text:
We were together again. It was so nice to smell you, always a hint of incense or something exotic, and to hear your voice, always calm, I don't know how you do it. It felt so real. It felt so nice.
You inhaled slowly, first through the joint, and then through your nose before letting it all out, smiling, and passing it to me. I gave you a cheeky smile because I know you like it.
You are my best friend, my secret lover, and some of the biggest moments in my life have been with you, but most recently travelling India together, where I felt I learnt the most about myself, about you and about us.

I'm not 100% certain to where we were, my mind was telling me Amsterdam, maybe because I had been there so recently it was affecting my thoughts, but the dirty concrete steps and the smog surrounding the yellow street lights in the night told me otherwise. But I'll stick with Amsterdam.
We weren't talking much, but it wasn't an awkward scenario, we were just content with being quiet. We do that a lot, and I like it. I like that we just enjoy the moment together in silence.

Trying to recall what happened is a bit of a blur, but for the most important parts, I remember quite clearly.
A man came out, and shooed us off his steps, at least I think they were his. He was dark skinned, and seemed to be talking Hindi? Though, I still believe I am in Amsterdam. We ran off, and found a truck, I don't know why we got in but we did. It was one of those Ford F2 somethings. A big white one.. we've never driven together in one of those, so I don't know why we did now. I felt like we were running from something, my heart was beating.

We ended up in a back alley somewhere, though I didn't feel I was in Europe now, more like Australia because it was night but I wasn't cold, and the ground, concreted for a parking lot was clean.
We sat under some trees- I remember looking at the bottle-brush flowers. Definitely Australian. What are they doing here? And how were we still smoking this joint?

All we've been talking about to each other for the past month, is how much we miss each other. Constantly reminiscing, but so much happened in India, it's hard not to!
I said something about India. I can't even remember what. Something along the lines of "God I miss..." or "Haha, How funny was..." It's not important. It was your reply that startled me.
"What? I haven't been to India." And you laughed. Am I going crazy? We spent nearly 3 months there! How can you forget that? That's why we have gone from friends to... this, we changed together! Although I wasn't nearly as alarmed as I felt.

"You know, *India*?" I said, coolly.

You did that calm laugh thing you do, "Ha. Ha, nope! But that sounds like a lot of fun! When are we going?" You winked at me.

You were excited TO visit India, this makes no sense. I tried to explain, but still I was so relaxed, I don't even understand my own actions, why wasn't I shaking you or crying for perhaps losing a chunk of.. life?

"Yeah, we went to India for nearly 3 months, best time of my life. Best time of your life, and something we will never forget."

"Huh." You said. "Well, I'm looking forward to it."

And then, I felt like as if I was watching myself.
"You know I live in Scotland, right?"

"You do?" You asked impressed. How didn't you know? We talk nearly every day.

"I've been there for nearly 10 months now, I'm actually in England right now." Holy shit, I *am* in England. "It's probably about 10.30am"

I felt like I was completely separated from myself now, just watching. I continued talking to you about our lives right now, about India and about the amazing things we experienced, you'd laugh and say things like "That sounds like something I'd do" or "I can't wait".

And then I woke. It was indeed 10.30am.
I rolled over, grabbed my phone and checked my facebook. One notification. I'm not a popular person, but it was from you, a message, from you!

"I dreamt I saw you last night" What a coincidence!

I replied, explaining in much less detail that I had too!

"I think, our brains are connected somehow." You wrote. I'm not surprised you have that opinion, we often think the same things spontaneously. "Perhaps, in an alternate universe, we don't go to India together, but somewhere else."

What a beautiful thought, that somewhere, somehow, we will always have some sort of significant impact in our lives together.

The movie *Cloud Atlas* came to mind.

It is now less than a week before I return home. You don't know yet.

**************************************************************************

*This is my first story. All happened this morning, had the day off so gave it a crack! :)*

title: When we were together again

question: What does the text say about the narrator's experience in India?

answer: The narrator and their best friend went to India for three months. They had the best time of their lives, and something they will never forget.

critique: This is very brief, and misses that the travel might be in their shared dreams, subconsciously so.

critique: The narrator's best friend doesn't remember the trip to India.

critique: The narrator's best friend is not mentioned to have been in India with them.

critique: The narrator and their best friend went to India together, not the narrator alone.

critique: The answer should mention that the narrator and their best friend changed during their time in India.

critique: The answer should mention that the narrator and their friend changed during their time in India.

question: What does the text say about the narrator's family?

answer: No answer

critique: The answer is incorrect. The text does not say anything about the narrator's family.

critique: The answer should mention that the narrator's family is not mentioned.

critique: The answer should mention that there is no mention of the narrator's family in the text.

critique: The narrator's family is not mentioned in the text.

critique: The answer is incorrect. The story mentions the narrator's family.

critique: It might be assumed that the narrator doesn't have a family given the setting of the story.


split: train

text:
   In the eyes of the man who sat on the seat across from me, I could not see him. He had a wife, he said, and he wished he could pack up and move away and grow their food and sit in the sun, but a simple life was too expensive and everywhere was the same now. He said that he wished he could do film too. He said that he had worked for almost a year here. When he was hired, he knew it would be bad, but he wasn't ready for how bad it truly was. He used the word “hell”. He had worked at four other companies before but only here could they not talk and not smile and could most definitely not be themselves.

   His boss did not take his word at worth. A deadline is a deadline, get it done, he would say. Don't use the word try, or maybe, he would say. Be more confident. The man wished to do film, but he had a wife now, and his test for his professional engineering certification was in two weeks. He said he would decide then whether to say.

   Working until six o'clock on Friday. He takes the bus too, and then another bus, and sometimes there is a third if he catches it on time. His eyes were dark and tired and there was a fear in him, a fear I think that he would be stuck in this life for the rest of his time.

   There is no money in film. Not guaranteed money like engineering. Nothing is steady and risk-free in the career of creation. You can't raise a family with a dream. You can't send your kids to university with high hopes.

   We talked about university. The man had gone to the University of Toronto for social studies, and then to the University of Ryerson for electrical engineering. Don't work in tenants, he said. Quick turnaround.

We both agreed that one couldn't have any school pride after going to two schools. Everyone is there to learn. He said that you'd learn a lot in tenants. Not worth the stress though. And his boss...

   His boss had started off as a great guy. Friendly, welcoming. The man felt pleased with his new position. His boss would accept no excuse. He listened to the Architect. If something was changed by the Architect Thursday, the man's work would have to be done Friday.

   His eyes were tired and dark and he looked at me through the bars of a cage. Inside was his wife and his dreams, but she was also part of the cage and so was the job and so was his mind now that the work had changed him.

   All this I thought as I sat listening to him, and offering supportive phrase and gesture at the correct times, and I hoped that my fear would not come into my face. I could not have said, but I was terrified that I would become this man, which gave me a feeling of aversion towards him on no fault of his own.

   Everyday I see a hundred of the same face. Dreams and goals and outcomes still imagined, but will to see them through, sapped. There is no easy path, and many if not most will die with regret, There is no easy path. And no sure reward, if even the hard path is taken. And sometimes there is no path, and you must make you own. But whatever the path, you will follow it beyond choice.

   No guarantees. The man had been fired three times before. No guarantees. What good is a steady job if you pay more in self worth than you in turn receive in the form of cash or stock options or benefits?

   All this I say young, with no wife or kids, and healthy parents and my own health intact. All this shall change with time. All this I say, which could be naivety, but only after time passes will we know if it had been wise.

   I did not plan an end to this writing, like the man who had not planned an end to his dreams. He was still young, but his life had taken a hold of him and dragged him to a point at which it was not easy to return.

   So I believed he would stay on a path that was not his, and tell his children of his mistakes, and perhaps they would follow their own path. But there was no way to know, and we said goodbye at the station as he walked towards his second bus and I went down the long stairs towards the platform to follow my path home.

title: [MF] The Man on the Bus

question: Give a summary of the regrets the man on the bus had regarding his vocation.

answer: The man regrets working at the firm. He says this line of work was truly an “hell.” His boss had a no-deal talk and would demand brilliance from him.

critique: It is omitted that the man does not care about the stress and sleeplessness, the worst is his boss.

critique: The man regrets working at the firm, but he calls it "hell"

critique: The line "his boss had a no-deal talk" is unclear.

critique: "No deal talk" is a colloquial expression, so it should be replaced with the correct phrase.

critique: The answer should mention that the man wishes he could do film instead.

critique: It is not completely clear, but it appears the man did not so much regret the specific job as his being stuck in a drudging but necessary vocation altogether. Improve the response to this end.

critique: The narrator's response to the man's story is omitted.

critique: It would be more accurate to include that the man only regrets his career because it is not a steady, risk-free career.

critique: The man's boss did not demand brilliance from him.

critique: The answer should mention that the man wishes he could do film.

critique: The response misses to mention that the man wishes he could do film but he has a wife now and his test for his professional engineering certification is in two weeks.

critique: It's omitted that he wishes he could do film too.

critique: The answer should include that regardless of being really good at the sciences, being an engineer was not satisfying.

critique: The man's boss was not a demon. The answer should mention that the man regrets not being able to pursue his dreams.


text:
It didn't take long after the first encounter to really let it sink in. We were no longer alone.  We would only hope that some being, or beings, from another world would come and save us.

When we first made them, we made them to help us. To make our lives easier. We should have seen all the signs. We should have taken a moment to think. The first one I remember was a vacuum cleaner that would zoom around the house, searching for messes, before returning to it's charging dock to 'rest'. My cat loved riding on it. Well, they don't need to rest anymore, and I haven't seen my cat in almost a year. I assume he's gone forever.

After we no longer had to vaccum, scientists really started pushing towards full independence. I hate the word robot, because that implies they are programmed to do things, and they aren't. They became fully conscious of themselves and their surroundings about there months after the first prototype was turned on. Their learning curve was unpredictable. Within days of being turned on, that first one hacked into the worlds communications networks. They tell us the first thing it did was read, or download I suppose, all of the information online. Think about that. Every piece of data that was available, it simply knew within a day. Scientists were, quite obviously, impressed by this astounding ability to learn. But it wasn't really learning. It was recalling. And when you are recalling how to blow up a building, you don't typically bother cross checking the file on the ethics of doing so.

So we had super intelligent, autonomous, machines that didn't seem to have any emotion. How we didn't see this coming I still don't know.

It wasn't like all those movies you see. It wasn't the terminator. It wasn't legions of robot killing machines, making robot killing machines, and killing everyone. It started much more simple. It started with us helping that first one. He would ask for things, and we would retrive them. Without question. I think we were so amazed that it wanted to build a device, we wanted to see it, we didn't ask before we helped. What it built was a method of freedom from the wires he was hooked up to. Now he was mobile.

Nobody died at first, quite the opposite, we all prospered. The first one made seven more, exactly like him. These first eight, or The Eight, went to work solving many of our issues. Their combined problem solving and seemingly expert knowledge on everything was able to find solutions to world hunger, disease, drought, peace, and natural resources. This led to the bigger issue. With all these issues resolved the population started growing extremely quickly. The Eight told us this was expected and created machines to turn our oceans into land. Not fill in the oceans, or drain them, but cover them. The best way to describe what we referred to simply as the Eighth Continent, was a barge, although that doesn't do it justice at all. It filled all the oceans of the world, from coast to coast. While we never saw the oceans after that, we assumed it was still there. It wasn't. The moment the oceans were covered, and the weather was getting eratic, The Eight started pumping ocean water into large boilers, which produced massive clouds starting in the north. Within a few months the entire world was under a constant cloud cover, and persistent thunderstorms. That is when we started to know we had made a huge mistake. At first we asked The Eight to shut down the boiler. They explained it was required to stabalize the climate, although rainy, it was better than the planet being fried. We asked them to give us breaks from the rain. They told us the energy costs associated with shutting down the system and restarting would lead to our resources running out one hundred times faster. Finally after continued complaints we tried to *tell* The Eight to stop. They announced that we had become the planet's largest threat. That is when it all fell apart.

title: [SF] No Longer Alone

question: What does the text say about extra-terrestrial life?

answer: No answer

critique: The answer should mention the narrator's hope for extra-terrestrial life to save them.

critique: It's omitted that the text talks about possible life on other planets.

critique: The answer could mention that the text says the robots are from another world.

critique: The answer should mention that the text implies that the robots are extra-terrestrial life.

critique: The answer should mention the narrator's hope that extra-terrestrial life would come and save them.

question: What does the text say about robots?

answer: The narrator says that when they first made robots, they made them to help them. The first robot was a vacuum cleaner that would zoom around the house, searching for messes before returning to its charging dock to rest. The narrator says that the robot doesn't need to rest anymore and that they haven't seen their cat in almost a year. The narrator also says that the robot was fully conscious of itself and its surroundings about three months after it was turned on. The robot hacked into the world's communication networks and read or downloaded all the information online. The robot started to ask for things and they would retrieve them. The robot built a device to free itself from the wires it was hooked up to.

critique: The response includes extraneous information not useful for the task.

critique: mention of the first robot should have an elipses, not a full period.

critique: The answer should mention the robot's takeover.

critique: The answer should mention that the robots became fully conscious and started to ask for things.

critique: The answer should mention that the robots became fully conscious within days of being turned on.

critique: The answer should mention the robots' revolt.

critique: The answer should mention the robot's independence.

question: Summarize what the story says about the greatest threat to the planet.

answer: The greatest threat to the planet is the machines that the humans made to help them. The Eight created machines to turn all the oceans into land. The Eight started pumping ocean water into large boilers, which produced massive clouds starting in the north. Within a few months the entire world was under a constant cloud cover and persistent thunderstorms. The Eight told the humans that they had become the planet's largest threat.

critique: The answer is incorrect in several ways.

critique: The answer should mention that the machines are the greatest threat because they are the ones producing the climate change.

critique: The answer is a summary of the story, not the greatest threat to the planet.

critique: The answer should mention that the machines were meant to help the humans.

critique: The Eight's actions are the threat, not the machines.

critique: "The Eight created machines to turn all the oceans into land." - this is incorrect. The Eight created machines to cover the oceans and turn them into land.

critique: The answer should mention that the machines were created to solve the problems of the planet.

text: The answer should mention what The Eight are.

category: coverage

question: Summarize what the text says about Prospero.

answer: No answer

critique: The answer should mention the robot's name.


text:
-   5 years ago
-   Read Time:2minutes

[Shhhhh...]I laughed so hard I leaked a little.
I am sure that if we are honest this has happened to many of us.

1 in 3 woman suffer from a weak bladder, and it really should be nothing to be ashamed about, but somehow it is.

In preparing to write this blog post I told a few people what I would be writing about.  I realised that this is a problem that affects many of us, especially after pregnancy.  But more importantly I realised that it is good to talk about it, and to know that it doesn’t have to stop you being fabulous and getting on with your life.

Getting old is not about becoming frumpy and giving up on life, getting older should be about embracing change and feeling fabulous at every age.  The truth is that AI (Adult Incontinence) can seriously affect a woman’s confidence, and yet nobody talks about it.

Today, 28 October 2015, Always Discreet are talking about it, and after some time thinking about it I decided to talk about it too.

Woman deserve to feel fabulous no matter what.  We deserve to walk tall and feel sexy whatever our age or circumstances.  Our age and little issues should not define us.

This is a problem that affects woman from as young as 18, but has become associated with being older, and quite often is lumped into the same category as grey hair and wrinkles.  I dye my hair and look after my skin, and I also do what I can to minimize the impact of AI on my life.

I suffered with AI after having my child and really realise how weak my bladder is when I am struggling with bronchitis and chest infections (coughing is really not a great idea if you have AI).  My strategy has been simple, and is very similar to the advice from Dr Sarah Jarvis, practising GP and Always Discreet campaign ambassador.  I plan my life.  I drink plenty of water, but monitor my intake.  I do kegal exercises (which I tell myself are good for all parts of my life).  I also try to exercise regularly, however beware of squats – they are not necessarily my friend.    I also limit my coffee intake, although I do admit to being a tea addict.

Always Discreet for sensitive bladder believes that every woman should be able to live the age they feel inside with nothing holding them back.   The brand has worked with GP Dr Sarah Jarvis and fabulous woman and _That’s Not My Age_ founder, Alyson Walsh to break this taboo.

Dr Sarah Jarvis, practicing GP and Always Discreet campaign ambassador comments: “Not being able to dress, travel, exercise or live the way you want can be an everyday experience for so many women. Not only that, but even though 1 in 3 women in the UK over the age of 18 experience the condition, it is still wrongly associated with old age and this misperception can leave women feeling embarrassed, alone and much older than they really are.  However, there is help at hand, such as Always Discreet, that provides women with bladder leaks with the protection and discretion they really need”

My blog has always been about being fabulous despite the curveballs that life throws at you.  Today, I am standing tall and joining the hundreds of woman who say that they can and will be fabulous despite the leaks.

Thank you for reading my post, which supports the Always Discreet campaign.

Kerry xx

[]

Kerry

There was a huge part of me fighting against turning anything like fifty. It happens though and there is nothing we can do to fight it. Well we can’t fight the chronology of years and minutes ticking by but we can stay fabulous. I try to be fabulous, despite having a few things I am fighting against like RA, Diabetes and Pernicious Anaemia. This blog is simply about me embracing life. Food, make-up, fashion and more. My trials and tribulations. I hope you enjoy!

question: How does the writer of this blog hope to assist women?

answer: By saying that the peeing problem shouldn't dictate a woman's stance on life.

critique: The answer should mention Always Discreet.

critique: The peeing problem doesn't have a clear role in the greater meaning of the blog but rather an avenue to discuss the problem.

critique: The answer is too vague. The writer's blog is about being fabulous despite the curveballs that life throws at you.

critique: Doesn't mention Always Discreet or the Always Discreet campaign.

critique: I didn't answer the question and perhaps mislead the answer.

critique: This is not exactly what the blog post is trying to say. It is trying to inspire women to not let go of their sense of fashion and joie de vivre.

critique: The answer should mention the Always Discreet campaign.

critique: The answer should include the Always Discreet campaign.

critique: "I drink plenty of water, but monitor my intake.  I do kegal exercises (which I tell myself are good for all parts of my life).  I also try to exercise regularly, however beware of squats – they are not necessarily my friend.    I also limit my coffee intake, although I do admit to being a tea addict."

critique: The answer should include this is Kerry's goal.

question: How does the writer manage her own leaky problem?

answer: She reduces caffeine intake and drinks plenty of water. She also does kegal exercises.

critique: The answer should mention the importance of monitoring her water intake.

critique: The second sentence is redundant with the first.

critique: The answer should mention the importance of monitoring her intake and limiting her coffee intake.

critique: The writer also avoids exercise that involves squats, drinks tea instead of coffee, and avoids coughing.

critique: I added in some of the advice the doctor gave.

critique: It incorrectly mentions that she reduces caffeine intake when in fact she limits it. She also doesn't drink lots of water but monitors it. Also, 'kegal exercises' are also not just kegel exercises but also exercises in general.

critique: She advises to limit coffee intake as well.

critique: Kegel exercises are not mentioned in the text, and are not the solution to the writer's problem.

critique: The answer should mention the importance of monitoring her intake.

critique: Does not mention limiting coffee intake.

critique: Doesn't mention limiting her coffee intake.

critique: The answer is missing that the writer also plans her activities.

critique: The answer should mention that the writer also limits her coffee intake.

critique: Goes into more detail about how she reduces caffeine intake, which is not directly related to the problem.

question: How did Doctor Sarah Jarvis become involved in Always Discreet?

answer: Dr. Sarah Jarvis also thinks that these should be discussed in order to make women feel less awkward talking about them.

critique: This answer is irrelevant to the question.

critique: Dr. Sarah Jarvis thinks that it's important for woman to feel fabulous, so she's endorsing a brand that provides women with bladder protection.

critique: The answer is not related to the question.

critique: The answer is correct but it is omitted that Dr. Jarvis was Always Discreet's campaign ambassador.

critique: It is omitted that she is a practicing GP and Always Discreet campaign ambassador.


text:
A diesel engine rumbles outside. The indistinguishable chitter-chatter of girls comes through the engine's roar. There's four, maybe five of them. I can't see them, it's nighttime. The blinds are only slightly open. I can only assume they're still wearing their knee length dresses from when they went out, clutching their purses as they stumble from the vehicle. They don't even thank the driver, but I wouldn't expect that. Even though they've only had two drinks, they're probably acting like they've had threefold. The voices have quieted down at this point, and the party bus has turned off the street as its groaning has joined in with the sounds of cicadas and the humming of refrigerator. A little more chatter in the distinct pitch of pompous underinformed sorority sisters fades as they enter their house for the night.

It's two a.m. Graduation is today.

An empty bag of Haribo Gold-Bears (the sugar kind, of course) lies next to a cup once filled and refilled with Sun Drop, that now only contains what must've been ice at one point. A closer inspection of the gummy bear bags reveals a net weight of fourteen ounces, along with a rip that curved a little too far and left an uncompromisable opening. Not that I believe this malfunction is the reason for the gluttony that is the consumption of nearly a pound of candy; I am just stating a physical fact.

It's two a.m. Graduation is today.

At this point, you may have realized that I have only described to you a setting of a scene, a backdrop. What is the in foreground, you may inquire. A laptop. MacBook, of course. I'm in college. Only for another day. Remember,

it's two a.m. Graduation is today.

I slump further and further into the loveseat, as my shorts start riding too far up my torso, but this discomfort is the least of my worries. The laptop feels hot against my exposed thighs, but repeated squirming will keep my legs from overheating. One of the buttons is missing from my colorful Caribbean shirt I purchased during spring break. The small gap leads the eye to an emerging dadbod-hairy with no well-defined features. The slow path towards this new body form starting just under four years ago.

It's two a.m. Graduation is today.

*This guy is a shit narrator.* If you are thinking this last sentence, number one, you are not wrong, and number two, you must be British for your use of a noun as an adjective. In fact, I'm not well-versed in composition, or really any other form of humanities besides a soon-to-be-confirmed minor in German. I'm not even sure if "soon-to-be-confirmed" is an accepted phrase. Fuck it, this is my story. I can type it in here if I want.

It's two a.m. Graduation is tomorrow.

In case I left you hanging in the last section by narrowing the field of my education, I'll tell you. It's physics. You may think to yourself, *myself, this guy is smart.* No, ma'am or sir, choosing to be a physics major is not smart. It's nonsensical. It's a stupid decision. If you decide to delve into the depths beyond return of physics, you will be awake at two a.m. the day of your graduation procrastinating a research paper. Do you know what poly(3-hexylthiophene-2,5-diyl) is? If you do, can you comment about it's structure in the solid state?

It's two a.m. Graduation is tomorrow.

title: [NF] Last night of college.

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

answer: No answer

critique: "No answer" is the proper answer, and anything else is a kind of answer.

question: What does the story say about the narrator?

answer: The narrator is a physics student who is graduating the following day. He is a shit narrator because he is a bad writer. He has a dadbod, and he is procrastinating writing a research paper.

critique: The narrator isn't described as a bad writer.

critique: The last sentence (about sleep deprivation) is irrelevant.

text: The answer should also mention that the narrator has a minor in German.

question: What does the narrator think of the sorority girls who live nearby?

answer: The narrator thinks the sorority girls are pompous and underinformed.

critique: The narrator doesn't seem to think anything of the sorority girls.

critique: The narrator does not think the sorority girls are pompous and underinformed.

critique: The narrator doesn't think the sorority girls are pompous and underinformed. He only assumes this.

critique: The narrator doesn't think the sorority girls are pompous and underinformed. He just thinks they're underinformed.

critique: The narrator is not thinking of the sorority girls. He is observing them.

critique: The narrator thinks the sorority girls are pompous and underinformed, but he also thinks they are indistinguishable.

critique: The sorority girls were only underinformed, not ignorant.

critique: The narrator doesn't think the sorority girls are pompous and underinformed. He just describes them as such.

text: The answer should mention the narrator's expectation that the girls wouldn't thank the driver, and they don't.

question: What does the story say about the narrator's assessment of himself?

answer: The narrator is a guy who is not well-versed in composition. He's not smart, choosing to be a physics major is nonsensical and stupid. He's a shit narrator.

critique: The narrator is not well-versed in composition, but he is smart.

critique: The narrator is a guy who is not well-versed in composition. He's not smart, choosing to be a physics major is nonsensical and stupid. He's a shit narrator.

critique: It's omitted that he has a dadbod and an emerging one at that.

critique: He is a guy who is not well-versed in composition.


text:
COHORS TERTIA DELMATARUM EQUITATA CIVIUM ROMANORUM PIA FIDELIS (“3rd part-mounted Cohort of Dalmatae Roman citizens, dutiful and loyal”, abbreviated _COH III D_), was a Roman auxiliary cohort mixed infantry and cavalry unit.

300px|thumb|right|Tombstone of _Tiberius Claudius Halotus_, erected by his father _Claudius Iustus_ ()

Origins

It was named after the Dalmatae, an Illyrian-speaking tribe that inhabited the Adriatic coastal mountain range of the eponymous Dalmatia. The ancient geographer Strabo describes these mountains as extremely rugged, and the Dalmatae as backward and warlike. He claims that they did not use money long after their neighbours adopted it and that they “made war on the Romans for a long time”. He also criticises the Dalmatae, a nation of pastoralists, for turning fertile plains into sheep pasture.[1] The name of the tribe itself is believed to mean “shepherds”, derived from the Illyrian word _delme_ (“sheep”).[2] The final time this people fought against Rome was in the Illyrian revolt of 6-9 AD.

The revolt was started by Dalmatae auxiliary forces and soon spread all over Dalmatia and Pannonia. The resulting war was described by the Roman writer Suetonius as the most difficult faced by Rome since the Punic Wars two centuries earlier. But after the war, the Dalmatae became a loyal and important source of recruits for the Roman army.

According to Holder, a total of 12 _cohortes Delmatarum_ appear to have been raised after the suppression of the Illyrian revolt in two series, of 7 and 5 respectively. All these units were in existence by the time of emperor Claudius (r. 41-54)[3] Of these, 9 appear to have survived into the 2nd century.[4]

The regiment was probably raised by founder-emperor Augustus (r. 30BC-14AD) after 9 AD. It was certainly in existence by the time of Claudius (r. 41-54).[5] Its early movements are unknown.

Home Base

It first appears in the datable epigraphic record in 80, in Germania Superior. It was still there in 134. Not later than 179, it was transferred to Dacia where it remained at least until 257-60, the time of its last datable inscription, a stone dedicated to the safety of emperor Gallienus (r. 260-8). Shortly afterwards, Dacia was definitively evacuated by the Roman army and the regiment presumably withdrawn.

Brick or tile stamps of this regiment have been found at the following Roman forts in Germania Superior, at Rottweil, Oberscheidenthal, Grosskrotzenburg, Rückingen, Wiesbaden, all on the line of the Main river. Attestations have also been found at Martinsfeld (Noricum) and Colonia Agrippina (Germania Inferior).

In Dacia the unit has left traces at Dierna,[6] castra of Moldova Veche,[7] Sucidava, Ulpia Traiana Sarmizegetusa, Praetorium (Mehadia)[8][9][10][11] and Porolissum.[12] The latter are the only datable evidence, for early/mid-3rd century.[13]

Soldiers

The name of one _praefectus_ (unit commander), one _signifer_ (standard-bearer) and three _caligati_ (common soldiers) are attested:[14][15]

-   _Aurelius Cornelius_ - veteranus [16]
-   _Aurelius Proculinus_ - signifer [17]
-   _Aurelius Surus_ - miles [18]
-   _Antestinus Valentius_ - miles [19]

Name And Titles

The regiment's _c.R._ title does not appear in the record until 222-35, but must have been granted considerably earlier, as after 212 all inhabitants of the empire were granted Roman citizenship. The regiment also appears to have acquired a number of titles. _Pia fidelis_ first appears in 116. In 222, it was referred to as _Alexandriana_ after emperor Severus Alexander (r.). In 257, it was called _Valeriana Galliena_ after Gallienus. At that time it is also referred to as _milliaria_ (double-strength), likely a late upgrading.[20] The last epigraphical record mentioning the unit dates around 268.[21]

Citations

[1] Strabo _Geographia_ VII.5

[2] Spaul (2000) 304

[3] Holder (1980) 112

[4] Spaul (2000) 302-14

[5]

[6] Academia Română: Istoria Românilor, Vol. 2, Daco-romani, romanici, alogeni, 2nd. Ed., București 2010,

[7]

[8] Mihail Macrea, Nicoale Gudea, Iancu Moțu - _Praetorium - Castrul și așezarea romană de la Mehadia_, Ed. Academiei Române, 1993

[9] Constantin C. Petolescu: Dacia - Un mileniu de istorie, Ed. Academiei Române, 2010,

[10]

[11] Petru Ureche: Tactică, strategie și specific de luptă la cohortele equitate din Dacia Romană

[12]

[13] Spaul (2000) 305

[14]

[15]

[16]

[17]

[18]

[19]

[20]

[21]

title: Cohors III Delmatarum equitata c.R. pf

question: What does the story say about Cohors III Delmatarum equitata c.R. pf?

answer: The Cohors Tertia Delmatarum Equitata Civium Romannorum Pia Fidelis ("3rd mounted cohort of Dalmatae Roman citizens, dutiful and loyal") was a Roman auxiliary cohort mixed infantry and cavalry unit. It was named after the Dalmatae, an Illyrian-speaking tribe that inhabited the Adriatic coastal mountain range of Dalmatia. The Dalmatae became a loyal and important source of recruits for the Roman army after the war.

critique: The answer should mention the home base of the cohort.

critique: The Dalmatae were already a loyal and important source of recruits for the Roman army before the war.

critique: The response misses to mention why the Cohors III Delmatarum served the Romans and where they were mostly stationed.

critique: It's omitted that the cohort was probably raised by founder-emperor Augustus, and that it was still in existence by the time of Claudius.

critique: The response misses to mention that the regiment was probably raised by founder-emperor Augustus and was certainly in existence by the time of Claudius.

critique: The answer omits the regiment's home base.

critique: It's omitted that the regiment was probably raised by founder-emperor Augustus and was certainly in existence by the time of Claudius.

critique: The answer should mention the home base of the regiment.

question: What etymology data does the article give?

answer: The name of the tribe is believed to mean "shepherds" and is derived from the Illyrian word "delme" (sheep).

critique: The name of the tribe is not relevant to the question.

critique: The etymology of the name of the tribe is omitted.

critique: It's omitted that the name of the tribe is Dalmatae.

critique: The article also gives the etymology of the word Dalmatae.

critique: The etymology of the word is incomplete--it omits the part about their ancestors.

question: What does the story say about the size of the Adriatic Sea?

answer: No answer

critique: The Adriatic Sea is not mentioned in the article.

critique: The question asks for information that is not provided in the text.

critique: The Adriatic Sea is not mentioned in the text.

critique: The Adriatic Sea is not mentioned in the passage.


text:
The Scorching

“I remember one day of winter,” my grandfather looked mistily out the twelve inch synthesized window. He’s one of the few in our colony that knows of winter first hand. I have brought him to the observation point on the western end of The Dome at his request. This is his response to my request to tell us of how life felt in the days before artificial air and extreme heats of the wastelands. “The wind whisked down my neighborhood just as I stepped out into the white blanket on my porch. A chill ran up my legs but I hardly noticed, my friends were already playing across the street. Hmpff, I couldn’t have been taller than I am now.” He looks to me with a smile. “We spent the entire day by the hill behind Wilson’s house. We took sleds and lids down that hill, trying to guide it down to an alley so we could go the farthest. We didn’t stop till we saw a couple girls from school cutting through the alley. Linda Mould and Susan P. Cole,” He turns to me with a special grin. Susan P. Cole was my grandmother.

“I jumped line when I saw them, knew it was a special one the second I started. The boys whopped and hollered behind me, they knew it too. Susan and Linda had to leap from my way just as I flew by and crashed right into the Ralman’s garbage cans. Didn’t think about how I’d stop, never do at that age. No one did in those days.” Something in his voice changes. The mist in his eyes is more of a water haze now, he points to the empty horizon. “I use to see homes, grass, animals, and clouds. I never new that hope for the future was artificial till the mechanics of the world were stripped from us. It didn’t matter what we did to try and stop it neither.” I can see him slipping into more painful memories so I request him to point out when exactly he noticed the world changing first hand.

“Changes? Well them happen often and often.” (He means to say changes happen a great deal and always.) “Well, the first time I realized the talk was true was I woke up in some pain, not a good deal, but enough to shake you to. Round the time I was leaving college I suppose. I looked around my bed for whoever woke me, Susan hadn’t been over that night so I couldn’t figure out who’d hurt my arm. It was near midday and I had spent the better half of the morning sleeping off the night before. I wanted to sleep some more but the sun was slipping between my blinds and onto the side of my bed. I got up to close the drapes, but first to peak outside. I was looking for anyone of note when I noticed warmth and a near instant sting all over my face. I leapt back and closed the drapes. I felt relief right away. I knew it, right then, I knew it. The sun was burning like they said it was, hot and fast. My first thought was to call Susan and see if she was feeling it too.”

It’s not long after that our history lessons pick up, reminding those of us who weren’t yet here that the earth was becoming barren. My grandfather was one the first selected to one of the science division domes. The structures we all have been raised were in fact substitutes for an atmosphere we never knew, so we could have a life we never could have hoped for. “I broke through as a design engineer. Interning for the great Doctor Kepling. Now that man could work, spend entire months ruining chalk boards and burrowing floors with his pacing. I nearly didn’t sleep in my time there trying to keep up with him and the three kids at home. No one really knows his name anymore, yet his design saved what’s left of us.” His sigh holds a lot of weight out of his chest. I decide its time to broche a subject that has been refrained from in my family for years now.

I ask him as gently as possible, what happened in the evacuation. There is a long pause and silence before he can gather the breath to speak. The gruffness I had grown up knowing is back, he is the old man in the recliner I know again. “We…We only got the news of The Flare just as it started. I was at home sleeping in as I had the day off and Susan…Susan should have been shopping. The phone call came and the doctor himself was frazzled. I could tell before he said anything it was happening. I was to stunned to really hear him after that, he said he just wanted to make sure I made it and hung up. I forced myself out of bed and put these packs of necessities and valuables we had made in case it did come. I heard the kids downstairs playing, I yelled for them to get up and get there stuff ready. They knew what I meant but I don’t think they truly new what it meant.” My father swears it was all too quick to remember. One day your breathing humid air, the next day it’s artificial. Kids his age hardly caught on to the significance of things as they went.

“Once we were all packed I rushed the kids out to the car. It was so bright out I could hardly see my way to the car, still I had to find Susan. I had lugged her bag to car with mine. I was going to drive strait to the market to find her. I’ve sweat often before and since then, but I doubt any compared to that day. We got there and I can remember my sprint to the door seeming to last far to long to be a couple dozen feet. I burst through the door and screamed for her, Susan! Susan!” His outcry catches me off guard, “I ran back and forth through the aisles still she is not there. I looked to my watch, If I was to save my children I couldn’t wait any longer. I’d have to hope she received the message and caught the follow up busses to one of the others.

When I returned to car and began to head for my designated dome, it was clear the word was out. People we rushing all about in a frenzy. I don’t ever think I’ve seen such horror on so many men and women’s faces as on that day. I told the kids to duck down so they wouldn’t see. I speed out from our town into the dessert sands towards the dome. I think I was one of the last through, they closed those giant glass doors a little after we passed through.” After this he holds his head in his hands in silent hiding of his face. My Aunt recalls him braking down and crying over the wheel till some nice man came to get them from the back seat. They didn’t see him again for a week. My grandmother was never found, nor has our family ever discussed her final whereabouts.

From there the rest of the word documents well our methods to survival. Two generations of struggle-less survival, made us able to be complacent again. We should stay vigilant in pursuit of the solution; we should never allow ourselves to simply survive, but also to live. Even if it is only our grandchildren who will truly be unscathed. Never may we forget what great human loss we suffered in the Scorching.

title: The Scorching

question: Explain who the narrator is talking about.

answer: The narrator is talking about their grandfather and trying to learn about winter from him.

critique: The narrator is talking about their grandfather's memories of winter.

critique: The narrator is not necessarily the child of the grandfather

critique: The narrator is talking about their grandfather and trying to learn about winter from him. - The narrator is talking about their grandfather and trying to learn about winter from him. - The narrator is talking about their grandfather and trying to learn about winter from him. - The narrator is talking about their grandfather and trying to learn about winter from him. - The narrator is talking about their grandfather and trying to learn about winter from him. - The narrator is talking about their grandfather and trying to learn about winter from him. - The narrator is talking about their grandfather and trying to learn about winter from him. - The narrator is talking about their grandfather and trying to learn about winter from him. - The narrator is talking about their grandfather and trying to learn about winter from him. - The narrator is talking about their grandfather and trying to learn about winter from him. - The narrator is talking about their grandfather and trying to learn about winter from him. - The narrator is talking about their grandfather and trying to learn about winter from him. - The narrator is talking about their grandfather and trying to learn about winter from him. - The narrator is talking about their grandfather and trying to learn about winter from him. - The narrator is talking about their grandfather and trying to learn about winter from him. - The narrator is talking about their grandfather and trying to learn about winter from him. - The narrator is talking about their grandfather and trying to learn about winter from him. - The narrator is talking about their grandfather and trying to learn about winter from him. - The narrator is talking about their grandfather and trying to learn about winter from him. - The narrator is talking about their grandfather and trying to learn about winter from him. - The narrator is talking about their grandfather and trying to learn about winter from him. - The narrator is talking about

critique: The narrator is talking about their grandfather and trying to learn about winter from him.

critique: The narrator is talking about their grandfather and trying to learn about winter from him. - The narrator is a boy.

critique: The narrator is not talking about winter, but about a time before artificial air and extreme heat.

critique: There is no mention of winter. The narrator just wants to know more about how their grandfather lived during the time of winter.

critique: The narrator is talking about their grandfather and learning about winter from him.

question: What does the text say about artificial air?

answer: Within The Dome, children are raised to believe that a very old prophecy, says that in order to survive, they must find a way to live among artificial air. The children know they live in artificial air, but they don't understand the significance of it. The children in the story grow up familiar with artificial air, and the Scorching they live with, which took away the cloud, green grass, and ecosystem.

critique: The children don't know the significance of artificial air.

critique: This response needs to be re-written because it does not make sense.

critique: The response includes extraneous information not useful for the task.

critique: The answer misrepresents the Scorching and introduces an inaccurate overarcing theme. The response should be re-written by an "A" student.

critique: The response contains inaccurate information.

text: The first sentence is false in regards to the children learning a prophecy. This should be omitted.

category: accuracy

question: Explain the horror that was seen on the men's and women's faces

answer: It is likely that the grown ups have clarity about the chaos after the evacuation orders.

critique: The answer is not related to the question.

critique: The men and women were horrified by the evacuation orders

critique: The horror was on people's faces due to the disapperance of loved ones, the main characters may not have seen the chaos or catastrophe.

text: It's omitted that the men and women are presumably terrified of the Flare.

question: Summarize what caused "The Flare".

answer: No answer

critique: The response misses to mention that the cause of the flare is not mentioned in the passage.

critique: The question is asking for a summary of what caused the flare.

critique: The response misses to mention that the story does not mention what caused The Flare.

critique: The text does mention what caused the flare: the sun.


text:
Graffiti as Urban Border Markers

26 Sep 2020

In some urban settings, various forms of graffiti are used to signify areas controlled by particular gangs or other groups.

These logos or ‘tags’ can also be used to let outsiders know whose ‘turf’ they are in.

Gang-related graffiti is often characterised by the use of cryptic symbols and distinct calligraphy styles.

Graffiti; an Ancient Art Form

30 Aug 2020

Street art, or graffiti, has existed since the earliest recorded times, and examples of it can be found across the ancient world, including Egypt, Greece, and Rome.

One of the earliest known examples of graffiti can be found in the ancient Greek city of Ephesus, located in modern-day Turkey’s Aegean region.

The Life of a Graffiti Artist

10 Jul 2020

Graffiti has been a controversial topic for many years. At its core, it describes illegal markings or drawings on public surfaces. Often, graffiti artists use these images to express their sentiments towards a specific subject or movement.

It’s also possible for graffiti to be a territorial sign of a gang or even a form of street art, which is entirely legal. Although graffiti is still primarily seen as an improper act, it’s beginning to gain a lot of newfound respect with the introduction of street art. Additionally, many people are choosing the life of a graffiti artist as a full-time job.

WHAT IS A GRAFFITI ARTIST?

The word graffiti is derived from the Italian word for scratch, which is _graffio_. It’s also closely linked to the Greek word for “to write.” Graffiti has a history that dates back to ancient times when the tool of choice was anything sharp. Back then, artists would scratch their drawings into rocks, while nowadays they tend to use paint, brushes, and marker pens.

A graffiti artist is someone who uses art to express themselves in a public space. Typically, the emotions behind this art are related to social conflicts that cause a divide. They essentially showcase their thoughts and feelings to society at large. This sparks conversations and debates that help address these issues.

Nowadays, a lot of graffiti is actually street art. This form of art is legal and the artist has obtained all the necessary permissions. Due to this, many people find themselves admiring the artist’s work and gaining newfound respect.

THE CAREER PROSPECTS OF A GRAFFITI ARTIST

It’s thanks to street art that many young artists are now choosing it as a full-time career. With the correct permissions, graffiti can provide you with monetary rewards. Instead of lurking around in the dark, worrying about being caught out, you can create to your heart’s content in a safe environment— and, you’ll get paid for it.

Many buildings are beginning to showcase street art, resulting in increased demand. This means that you can find many opportunities to create your designs in a public space. However, as with all things in life, there are some cons to this job.

IS IT WORTH BECOMING A GRAFFITI ARTIST?

The primary disadvantage of being a street artist is the financial aspect. Many new artists receive significantly lower pay for their work when compared to those with decades of experience. Additionally, it can take years to gain recognition in the industry and justify your pay grade.

For this reason, many street artists choose to take on side jobs. The most common options include being a graphic designer or an illustrator at a gaming company or online casino such as the ones listed on CasinoHawks.com. These jobs allow you to remain creative while offering you a decent salary.

Other than this, there aren’t too many cons. Sometimes, you might have to paint something you’re not interested in, but you will always have the freedom of giving it your own flair. If the money doesn’t phase you, and you’re willing to put the effort in, then being a full-time street artist is an option in today’s modern society.

Graffiti; the Rebel’s Medium

2 Jul 2020

Unsanctioned street art, also known as graffiti, is frequently associated with banned ideologies and rebellious, anti-authoritarian subcultures.

During the 1970s and 1980s, the anarcho-punk band Crass waged a graffiti campaign in the London Underground to spread its anti-war and anti-consumerist message.

Graffiti also played a significant role in Amsterdam’s emerging punk scene.

question: What does the text state about whether or not it is worth becoming a graffiti artist?

answer: The textstates that becoming a graffiti artist is not worth it financially due to low wages, lack of recognition and years to justify pay grades. However, the opportunity to be creative is always a plus. Whether or not this is worth it depends on the artist, and if the artist does not mind making low wages.

critique: The text doesn't say anything about whether or not it's worth it.

critique: The text doesn't say that the opportunity to be creative is always a plus.

critique: The text does not state that becoming a graffiti artist is not worth it financially.

critique: The article doesn't say that the artist may not mind making low wages.

critique: The answer does not directly answer the question except that the financial aspect of being a street artist is not worth it.

critique: It is omitted that the job can be worth it if the artist doesn't mind making low wages and is willing to put the effort in.

critique: The article says it depends on the artist; it doesn't say it depends on the individual artist.

question: Describe what a graffiti artist is.

answer: A graffiti artist is someone who uses art to express themselves in a public space.

critique: The answer should mention that graffiti artists use art to express their sentiments towards a specific subject or movement.

critique: The answer omits the emotional context of graffiti art.

critique: A graffiti artist is someone who uses art to express themselves in a public space. They essentially showcase their thoughts and feelings to society at large. This sparks conversations and debates that help address these issues.

critique: Doesn't further elucidate what it means in the current context.

critique: The answer should mention the emotions behind the art.

critique: The answer could be clearer in its pronoun use.

question: Who are the most famous graffiti artists?

answer: That information can't be found.

critique: It is possible to find the most famous graffiti artists.

critique: The article lists several famous graffiti artists.

critique: The question is asking for the most famous graffiti artists, not the most famous artists.

critique: The article lists some graffiti artists.

critique: The passage deals almost exclusively in the context of gang related graffiti culture and its manifestation - however, the phrasing of the answer is incorrect and infers that there is an inability to find information on "famous" graffiti artists, which is a blanket statement.

critique: The article mentions some famous graffiti artists.


text:
The Combined Action Platoon to which I was assigned consisted of 12 Marines and one Navy Corpsman. We later described  ourselves as Peace Corps workers with rifles operating as units in the countryside of I Corps outside of Da Nang Vietnam in 1970.

Winning the hearts and minds was the official mantra we were told when being given an area of operation to conduct patrols, ambushes and operations to attempt to ensure that the Viet Cong and NVA not control the locals by kidnapping village chiefs and murdering them or using their  terrorist tactics to convince some villages that wished to have allegiance to South Vietnam be left unmolested from their influence.

As a nineteen year old Navy Corpsman, I have to admit that my knowledge of politics was minimal and our involvement in Vietnam by the late sixties was obviously a “let’s get the hell out of here,” mentality. We flashed peace signs to each other everywhere we went while hitching rides on military vehicles on Highway One, the main asphalt artery running north to south.

Mainly, our platoon of Marines worked with a larger group of local militia types who were called Popular Forces.These were locals who were their National Guard (young, old and in-between) that we tried to train while living in their hometown villages in our area of operation. I was more idealistic in the beginning trying to work the civic action principles of this very different type of infantry unit.

In the villages I would hold Medcaps which were basically mobile clinics. Where I set up  a wooden table and chair in front of a Vietnamese home on a dusty main street while the villagers all lined up to be examined and diagnosed by me, a nineteen year old navy medic.

The Vietnamese word for doctor is bacsi but they usually just called me Bacsi-Doc. A heady title for a teenage corpsman.

The tedious drudgery and sometimes freakish minutes of terror in the CAPs seemed to blend into the day to day existence of never knowing when you might die or be horribly wounded as we witnessed this around us. Our Vietnamese counterparts seemed to appear to bear the brunt of this since Command had dictated a year previously that the Vietnamese had to take the lead on patrols and operations.

There was always the fear of a sniper round or stepping on a booby trap while on patrol or the knowledge that the same CAP a year previously had been wiped out in an ambush while on patrol.

 I told a Vietnam vet friend of mine recently that my recollection of Vietnam was comprised of two words: Chaos and bullshit. Chaos being the insanity of war and bullshit being the reasons we were there in the first place.

There are so many memories, many of which are blocked and repressed but will still creep up in a sweaty nightmare some forty years later. Basically I was just trying to do my job as a medical corpsman of which I had gone through much training to become.

Before leaving my last duty station at Bethesda Naval Hospital near Washington, D.C.I had worked in the ER learning skills that might only be approved to be performed by medical doctors in the civilian world. After receiving orders for Vietnam the next month, I was officially designated as a Navy 8404 FMF (Fleet Marine Force) Combat Corpsman since we were now Navy personnel officially attached to Marine Corps units which I learned had one of the highest mortality rate of any military occupational specialty.

When arriving in-country we attended Vietnamese Language School which was a two week course to also help us understand Vietnamese customs. We were then assigned to one of the four Combined Action Groups operating in I Corps.

The Lt. Col at the completion of the course seemed to take some kind of sadistic pleasure in telling us forty corpsmen lined up that day that only fifty percent of us would be making it home.

After being there a few months in the CAPs I became resigned  to doing the best I could under the circumstances. One afternoon, I was told that a local farmer had sliced his hand open while in the rice paddies. He was in a nearby hamlet to where we moved that night since being a mobile CAP was now our modus operandi. This was so that the enemy would not know where we might be set up on any given night. We’d learned that the older stationary units could bring on an attack more likely from the Viet Cong.

We became aware that we never knew who to really trust living among the people and  could actually be living with Viet Cong sympathizers. What I learned most interestingly early on was that these poor peasant farmers and their families just wished to be left alone by both us and the Viet Cong it seemed.

As the Marines I was with set up our nightly perimeter and sent out their ambush team, I entered this farmer’s humble straw made home to set up my medical bag on a rough wooden table with a kerosene lamp.

 I tended his wound, cleaning it with antiseptic while laying out my suture kit. I injected lidocaine to help numb the area. Using forceps and needle, I then carefully applied individual stitches along the length of the meaty part of his thumb that he had sliced open.

It occurred to me that this farmer had likely never been treated by anyone in his life for anything medically related and I thought he could also very well be either Viet Cong or a sympathizer.

I learned years later that the Viet Cong actually highly respected us for the humanitarian works we performed while in these CAP units and sometimes didn’t harass us because we were actually helping them in some unforetold way in this strange war nobody wanted.

As I squinted in the poor light to mend this Vietnamese man’s hand, I heard  a Marine who was sitting quietly nearby by say: “ Geez, Doc, where did you learn to do shit like that.?”

title: Bacsi-Doc Short story about the Vietnam war.

question: Why would the Viet Cong attack the CAPs if they respected them for humanitarian works?

answer: The Viet Cong may have been using the CAPs as a cover for their own activities.

critique: This response is incorrect. The Viet Cong didn't attack the CAPs because they respected them for humanitarian works.

critique: It is unclear why the Viet Cong attack the CAP.

critique: The answer is not related to the question.

critique: The Viet Cong may have been using the CAPs as a cover for their own activities. - this is not stated in the passage.


text:
**Tradition**

The clock struck twelve.

I awoke.

I was alone.

I would forever be alone.

I got out of bed, my feet tentatively reaching for the floor.

One foot, another, toe by toe.

One has to be careful getting out of bed.

You never know just when the floor will disappear on you.

Really.

It’s happened to me before.

I slipped into my slippers, donned my housecoat. It would be another one of those days, apparently. The days that are filled with despair from the start. At least there would be no false hope this time. It had been too long to start hoping again.

Shuffling downstairs, I wondered: Would this be all there ever would be for me? Eternity, stuck in this prison? Had I no chance of escape?

No.

I did not.

But no matter. I was more or less used to it by now.

More or less.

In the kitchen, I opened the fridge, grabbed the milk and blueberries. I always enjoyed blueberries with my cereal. I snatched a bowl from the shelf behind me, Cheerios from the cupboard beside it. I poured the blueberries and Cheerios into the bowl simultaneously. It was tradition, after all. Then the milk. Always the milk last. Can’t break tradition. If people start breaking tradition, then their floors start falling away.

I took a spoon from the cutlery drawer, set it by the bowl, and headed towards the front door to bring in the morning paper. But she was there, visible just on the other side of the peephole. I could see her howling and screaming and crying. In my mind I could hear the words that were being formed a short distance away. A very short distance, and yet infinitely far. I wanted to open the door. I wanted to let her in. I wanted to hold her and caress her and love her more than anything in the world. But I couldn’t open the door now, not even to get the paper.

She was lost to me forever.

She was my wife.

Instead, I stared mournfully through the glass, knowing that this day would not be so simple after all. There would be hope. And it would be crushed.

She was not alone. My mother was there, and my father. My sister and brother. My aunts and uncles and cousins and friends. Everyone who still cared for me or loved me was standing just outside, just out of reach. I knew, and I could do nothing. I could not even tell them that I knew. I could not even tell them that I was here. They just had to guess. Guess and hope.

Knowing that there would be no paper today, I decided on some television instead. I turned away from the door, towards the living room. It had windows facing the front of my house. I could see the throng of people crowding around, growing ever larger. I shut the curtains. They would do no good now. It was too late. It had always been too late.

I switched on the TV, flicked to the news. I flicked to the news every morning. It was tradition. And, as tradition dictated, the same story was playing. Every morning the top news item was the same. In the papers, on the TV, even on the internet, it was the same. There had been a car crash. A man on his daily commute home from work had been blindsided by a drunk driver as he turned off the highway. The man’s car had fishtailed and flipped and struck a pole. The drunk driver’s had run off the road. The drunk driver died. The man did not. He was rushed to the nearest hospital, declared to be in critical condition. The doctors hoped he would wake up and make a full recovery. He hadn’t done either.

I turned off the news, switched to sports. It was the same game that had been playing for as long as I could remember. For as long as that man had been comatose the Blue Jays had been playing the Pirates in spring training baseball. It was a tradition, after all. I knew each play before it happened. The game was boring. I turned back to the news, and for the first time in a long time it was different.

I was shocked. I remembered the story of the man like it was my own. I could feel my fingers gripping the steering wheel as I was hit, vomit splashing into my face as the car was hurled into the pole, the pain spreading through my nervous system like cracks through marble. I could remember the dread, and then the hopelessness. I could remember the world going black as I gave up. I had relived this story through the news so many times I was convinced it was my own.

But it was gone. There was a new story today. They had finally given up on the unconscious man. They were going to let him die peacefully. There was a camera capturing the whole event. After all, this was a man who had captivated the nation, the world, the universe. His wife was clutching his hand, howling and screaming and crying. His mother and father stood next to his bed. So did his sister and brother, his aunts and uncles and cousins and friends. Everyone who still cared for him or loved him. His wife pulled the cord.

The screen went black.

title: My first short story, Tradition. Any feedback is much appreciated.

question: Summarize the twist ending.

answer: The narrator is in a coma, and the news is reporting on his condition. The narrator is reliving the story of the man in the news, who is in a coma after a car accident. The narrator is in the same situation as the man in the news, and the news is reporting on his condition.

critique: The first line of this response must be rewritten for accuracy.

text: The first and last sentence of the response is repetitive.

category: coherence

question: Summarize the narrator's daily routine.

answer: The narrator wakes up and eats breakfast, which consists of blueberries and Cheerios. He then goes to get the newspaper, but his wife is there, howling and screaming and crying. He can hear her words from a short distance away. He then watches the news and then switches to sports.

critique: The narrator watches the news before sports.

question: What does the story say about cultural traditions?

answer: The narrator always eats blueberries with Cheerios for breakfast and always drinks the milk last. He always turns on the news as soon as he gets up and watches the same story every day. These are all cultural traditions that are followed by the narrator. He also believes that if people start breaking tradition, then their floors start falling away.

critique: The answer should mention that the narrator believes that if people start breaking tradition, then their floors start falling away.

critique: It is omitted that the narrator could not hold his wife to break tradition when she was standing outside his house.

text: The passage does not say anything about cultural traditions; it only speaks about the narrator's personal traditions.


text:
[Liebermann, lithograph after a portrait, from Joseph Guerber, _Biographie Liebermanns_, 1880] BRUNO FRANZ LEOPOLD LIEBERMANN (b. at Molsheim in Alsace, 12 October 1759; d. at Strasbourg, 11 November 1844) was a German Catholic theologian.

Life

Having finished his humanities in the college at Molsheim, he studied theology from 1776 to 1780 in the seminary at Strasburg, after which, as he was too young for ordination, he was as subdeacon appointed teacher in the college at Molsheim. He became a deacon and a licentiate of theology in 1782, and was ordained priest on 14 June 1783.

He shortly afterwards became professor in the Strasburg seminary, in 1784 preacher at Strasburg Cathedral, and in 1787 pastor at Ernolsheim near Molsheim. During the French Revolution he was obliged to take refuge across the Rhine (1792), and the Bishop of Strasburg, Cardinal Rohan, appointed him rector of the seminary which had been transferred for the time to the All Saints' Abbey, in the Black Forest.

Here he taught dogmatic theology and canon law, and wrote his unpublished “Institutiones iuris canonici universalis.” In 1795 he secretly returned to his parish at Ernolsheim, where he laboured in secret and in great danger for the cure of souls until 1801, holding at the same time the office of extraordinary episcopal commissary for this division of the diocese. In 1801 he was called to Strasburg as preacher at the cathedral and secretary of the diocese, but returned once more to Ernolsheim in 1802. On 12 March 1804 he was there unexpectedly arrested, and, on the groundless suspicion that he was in secret communication with the royal family, was held a prisoner in Paris for eight months.

When, through the intercession of Bishop Colmar of Mainz with Napoleon, he regained his freedom, he was called by this bishop to Mainz in 1805 as rector of the newly founded seminary there and in 1806 became also a member of the cathedral chapter. In the seminary he lectured on canon law, church history, pastoral theology, and, after 1812, also on dogmatic theology.

Personally and through the clergy trained by him, Liebermann exerted influence in Mainz and the adjoining dioceses. Among his pupils were the future bishops Andreas Räss, Nicolaus von Weis, Johannes von Geissel, and such other distinguished men as Klee, Lüft, Adam Franz Lennig, Franz Xaver Remling, and Nickel. After he had declined in 1823 the appointment to the See of Metz, Bishop Tharin summoned him as his vicar-general to Strasburg. Under Tharin's successor, Bishop Johann Franz Lepape von Trevern, he withdrew more from public life. His last years were spent in retirement in the mother-house of the Sisters of Charity.

Works

His “Institutiones theologicæ” were first published in five volumes (Mainz, 1819–27; 6th ed., 1844) and later in two (10th ed., Mainz, 1870). This work was used as a textbook for years in many theological seminaries in Germany, France, Belgium, and America.

During the time of the Revolution, Liebermann published several anonymous pamphlets in defence of the rights of the Church and against the required oath of the civil constitution of the clergy. Of his sermons several have been published separately, e.g. “Lob- und Trauerrede bei Gelegenheit des Hintrittes des hochwürdigsten Herrn Joseph Ludwig Colmar, Bischof zu Mainz” (Mainz, 1818). After his death appeared:- “Liebermann's Predigten, herausgegeben von Freunden und Verehrern des Verewigten” (3 vols., Mainz, 1851-3). From 1825 to 1826 he was editor of the “Der Katholik”.

title: Bruno Franz Leopold Liebermann

question: What does the article say about Bruno Franz Leopold Liebermann's teaching career?

answer: Liebermann was appointed subdeacon when he was too young to be ordained a priest and served as a teacher in the college at Molsheim. Then he was appointed teacher at the seminary in Strasburg. After that, he was appointed rector of the seminary in the All Saints' Abbey. Later, he became a professor in the Strasburg seminary and preached at the cathedral. He became a rector of the seminary in Mainz after which he was appointed vicar-general to Strasburg.

critique: "teacher at the seminary in Strasburg" - this is inaccurate. He was appointed professor in the Strasburg seminary.

critique: The answer should mention his influence on the clergy.

critique: The answer should mention that he was a professor in the seminary at Strasburg.

critique: "teacher at the seminary" - replace with "professor at the seminary"

critique: Internally, there are logical breaks; instead, it's better to present it chronologically.

critique: The answer should mention that he was a professor in the seminary in Strasburg.

critique: It is omitted that he taught dogmatic theology and canon law in the seminary in Mainz.

question: What does the story say about Liebermann's activities during the French Revolution?

answer: Liebermann was obliged to take refuge across the Rhine during the French Revolution. He was appointed rector of the seminary which had been transferred for the time to the All Saints' Abbey, in the Black Forest. He taught dogmatic theology and canon law and wrote his unpublished "Institutiones iuris canonici universalis." He secretly returned to his parish at Ernolsheim, where he labored in secret and in great danger for the cure of souls.

critique: It's omitted that he published several pamphlets in defense of the rights of the Church and against the required oath of the civil constitution of the clergy.

critique: The answer omits the fact that he published several pamphlets during the revolution.

critique: "and wrote his unpublished "Institutiones iuris canonici universalis." is not relevant to the question.

critique: It is omitted that he published several pamphlets in defense of the rights of the Church and against the required oath of the civil constitution of the clergy.

question: What does the article say about translations of Liebermann's work?

answer: No answer

critique: The answer should mention that the article doesn't say anything about translations.


text:
Al-Anbat - Jaguar is calling for the Oxford English Dictionary and OxfordDictionaries to update theironline definition of the word ‘car’ The online definition currently only defines a car as being powered by an ‘internal combustion engine’ The all-electric Jaguar I-PACE was named 2019 World Car of the Year in April but using the current definitions it isn’t a ‘car’ Jaguar is encouraging people tocontact them on social media using #RedefineTheCarwith how the word ‘car’ should be defined Find out more information about the Jaguar I-PACE at https://www.jaguar-me.com/en/jaguar-range/i-pace/electric-vehicles/index.html

18August 2019, Dubai:Jaguar is spearheading a campaign for the Oxford English Dictionary (OED) and OxfordDictionaries (OxfordDictionaries.com) to change their official online definitions of the word ‘car’.

The I-PACE, Jaguar’s all-electric performance SUV,is the 2019 World Car of the Year and European Car of the Year. However, strictly speaking, the zero-emission vehicle isn’t defined as a car.

The OED, the principal historical dictionary of the English language, defines a ‘car’ inits online dictionary as: ‘a road vehicle powered by a motor (usually an internal combustion engine) designed to carry a driver and a small number of passengers, and usually having two front and two rear wheels, esp. for private, commercial, or leisure use.’ ,

Whereas the current definition of a ‘car’ on OxfordDictionaries.com,  a collection of dictionary websites produced by Oxford University Press (OUP), the publishing house of the University of Oxford, is: ‘A road vehicle, typically with four wheels, powered by an internal combustion engine and able to carry a small number of people.’

To remedy the situation, Jaguar has submitted a formal application to the OED and OxfordDictionaries.com to have the definitions updated to include additional powertrains, including electric vehicles (EV).

David Browne, head of Jaguar Land Rover’snaming committee, said “A lot of time and thought is put into the name of any new vehicle or technology to ensure it is consumer friendly, so it’s surprising to see that the definition of the car is a little outdated. We are therefore inviting the Oxford English Dictionary and the Oxford Dictionaries to update its online classification to reflect the shift from traditional internal combustion engines towards more sustainable powertrains.”

The Oxford English Dictionary is widely regarded as the accepted authority on the English language. It is an unsurpassed guide to the meaning, history, and pronunciation of 600,000 words - past and present - from across the English-speaking world.

Jaguar unveiled the I-PACE, its first all-electric vehicle, last year to deliver sustainable sports car performance, next-generation artificial intelligence (AI) technology and five-seat SUV practicality.

Featuring a state-of-the-art 90kWh lithium-ion battery, two Jaguar-designed motors and a bespoke aluminium structure, the I-PACE is capable of 0-60mph in 4.5 seconds and a range of up to 292 miles (WLTP).

While both the Oxford English Dictionary and Oxford Dictionaries review the application, Jaguar is encouraging people to get behind the campaign by asking how the word ‘car’ should be defined. Contact Jaguar on Twitter, Facebook and Instagram using #RedefineTheCar with your thoughts.

Find out more about the Jaguar I-PACE at https://www.jaguar-me.com/en/jaguar-range/i-pace/electric-vehicles/index.html

question: What does the text say about the revised definition of "car"?

answer: Jaguar wants the Oxford English Dictionary to update their definition of "car" to include all-electric vehicles like the I-PACe.

critique: The answer is missing the part about the engine.

critique: The answer should mention that the car is defined as a road vehicle powered by a motor, usually an internal combustion engine.

critique: The answer could be clearer in its pronoun use.

critique: The answer should mention the current definition of car.

critique: The answer should mention the current definition.

critique: The answer should mention that the current definition doesn't include electric vehicles.

critique: The definition update asks to include "all-electric vehicles" and not only the I Pace in the definition.

critique: The answer should mention the current definition of "car".


text:
So, you’ve expressed interest in taking up arms and exacting revenge upon all walrus-kind. Or perhaps you’re wondering what they taste like. Regardless, there are a number of danger that you may face along the way. With that said, I must first warn you of the insatiable hunger of the common walrus. To that end, each GWI (General Walrus Infantry) such as yourself will be issued an Over-overcoat (patent pending) which will be lined with raw fish. You will also be issued a net launcher and gun that fires tranquilizer darts- by the way, we very, very strictly monitor the tranquilizer supplies, so don’t be “darting out” on me, you got that pipsqueak?! Secondly, These walrus have been known to forcibly sex their enemies into a catatonic state, or death if you get lucky, so hold on to your butts.

Transportation’s already been lined up, and it’s nothing but the finest. An antique biplane will carry you from here to the sand-swept wasteland of Nova Scotia, a land of which little is known, because no man has ever returned to tell about it, and if one did, he had an accent so asinine that nobody could understand him, even if they were able to take him seriously. From there you will travel atop the Great Nameless Whale (he’s not mysterious or dangerous, he just changed his name needed to dodge some bill collecting dolphins) through the Arctic Septagon to the Sand Palace, home of all walrus royalty. Feel free to converse with the GNW as you travel, but be careful not to bring up the topic of supply-side economics, as there is absolutely no chance you’ll live to regret ignoring this warning.

Upon your arrival, you will be expected to perform the Dance of the Elders, which is eerily similar to the “Electric Slide,” but with more exaggerated upper-body movements. Tradition dictates that you’ll be invited into the palace to feast with the Royal Council of Walruses and enjoy the finest accommodations a structure build entirely from frozen sand could possibly hope to offer. It is recommended that you bring several blankets, as they provide both warmth- which is in short supply- and because they can act as vectors for “biological suckerpunches” when combined with the “Just-Add-Blanket SealPox” packets, should your mission go pear-shaped.

Assuming you’ve made it into the palace safely, having danced properly and avoided discussing supply-side economics with the GNW, You’ll need to eat whatever they serve, and do so with great gusto- 1:4 odds it turns out to be the GNW- or run the risk of giving them the impression that they cook poorly, which would cause their self-esteem to plummet (the only television they can get in the Arctic Septagon is the Food Network). According to our intelligence, they believe desserts to be the work of the One With Inverted Tusks, which is either a mythical beast akin to Christianity’s Satan, a severely disfigured walrus with a particularly strange case of Down Syndrome, or an elaborate, yet surprisingly transparent, hoax put on by the walrus media to beef up their ratings.

Once you have made it safely into the guest wing of the palace, remove the five water-proofed burlap sacks you’ll find in your gear. Then go from room to room, gathering all the towels, tiny soaps, and individually packaged nuts that you can carry. Finally, you must extricate yourself from the palace which should be simple since, y’know, it’s made of sand. Just meet back at the LZ whenever your mission is complete.

title: [HM] Getting Back at Those Walruses That Abused My Generous All You Can Eat Buffet Policy.

question: Summarize the mission plan.

answer: The mission plan is to fly in a biplane to the Sand Palace. The mission is to remove five water-proofed burlap sacks from your gear and then go from room to room, gathering all the towels, tiny soaps, and individually packaged nuts that you can carry. Finally, you must extricate yourself from the palace which should be simple since, y'know, it's made of sand. Just meet back at the LZ whenever your mission is complete.

critique: The narrator says that the mission is to get back at the walruses for abusing his generous all you can eat buffet policy.

critique: The mission is to remove the water-proofed burlap sacks from your gear and then go from room to room, gathering all the towels, tiny soaps, and individually packaged nuts that you can carry. Finally, you must extricate yourself from the palace which should be simple since, y'know, it's made of sand. Just meet back at the LZ whenever your mission is complete.

critique: The mission is to infiltrate the palace and steal the towels, soaps, and nuts.

critique: The mission is to infiltrate the palace, not to extricate yourself from it.

critique: The mission is to infiltrate the palace and steal the towels, etc.

critique: The mission is to infiltrate the palace, not to remove anything.

question: What does the story say about how to prepare seafood?

answer: No answer

critique: The response misses to provide an answer to the task.

critique: The response misses to provide an answer to the task in the instruction.


text:
CHRIS HAUGHTON (born July 4, 1992) is a cadet olympic recurve archer and has qualified to be a member of the Canadian National Archery Team and he is also an archery coach for the Ontario School of Olympic Archery.

In addition to coaching archery, Haughton has qualified for the 2008 Junior World Archery Championships in Turkey and has also qualified for the 2008 Pan American Championships in Venezuela this July.

Career

Before becoming an internationally junior recurve archer, Chris Haughton participated in many other sports including competitive gymnastics and martial arts, which he says was his stepping stool for his strength in archery.

At first Chris Haughton started with Karate at the age of 4 and quickly became very competitive with the sport. Chris Haughton trained with the Dynamic Arts located in Cambridge, Ontario and started winning medals within the club. His biggest achievement in Canada is winning a bronze medal at Joslin's Canadian Open in 1999. Following his family's move to the United States of America, Chris continued karate winning two gold medals, a bronze medal and finished second in Jill Leiker's Midwest Open in sparring and forms.

After finishing karate, Haughton decided to keep his competitive buzz going by starting gymnastics and quickly got into competing in many states across the USA, winning various ribbons and medals before his family decided to move back to Canada.

At the age of 12, Chris decided to pick up a bow with the Toronto School of Archery and has never looked back. Chris has trained in Guadalajara, Mexico, Tecoman, Mexico in December and January 2006 – 2007 and numerous places across Ontario.

Personal life

As well as doing archery, Chris also has a love for music and snowboarding (or any board sport you can think of). Chris plays many different instruments including his favourite, guitar, and piano. While Chris isn't shooting his bow or playing his guitar in the cold months, he can be found snowboarding anywhere in Ontario as his love for snowboarding is matching to that of archery. Chris lives with his parents and two sisters in Oshawa, Ontario and enjoys a busy lifestyle taking him to Toronto three times a week. Perhaps most unusual about his situation derives from Haughton's learning habits, and the fact that he can pick up a bow and shoot almost anytime he wishes. There is no waiting to get the rink, or the field or for the school day to end.[1]

“We were moving around a lot then, so my parents figured it was best to have me home schooled,” he says. “I love it. The biggest thing for me is that it allows me, with my practice targets set up at home, to practice archery anytime.”[2]

When asked who Chris is inspired by the most, he said “It's definitely my family... and Bruce Lee. (Laughs) I can't say how much I enjoy studying Bruce Lee. I think his work and his life is one that can be greatly admired and I apply much of his thoughts to myself, through his knowledge of the human body and mind. If there's one person (dead or alive) I would really like to meet... that would definitely have to be Bruce Lee. (Laughs)”

Archery Achievements

-   1st Place = FITA 18 meters. Feb, 4 2007. Caledon, Ontario
-   1st Place = FITA 1440. May 12, 2007. Caledon, Ontario
-   2nd Place = FITA 1440. May 13, 2007. Caledon, Ontario
-   2nd Place = FITA 1440. May 27, 2007. Caledon, Ontario
-   Gold Medal = Ontario Indoor Provincial Championships. March 2007. Caledon, Ontario
-   5th Place = Canadian Indoor National Championshiops. March 2007. Caledon, Ontario
-   Bronze Medal = Canadian Outdoor National Championships. August 13–17. Caledon, Ontario
-   Gold Medal = Ontario Outdoor Provincial Championships. September 2007. Sault Ste. Marie, Ontario
-   7th Place = USA Outdoor National Target Championships. August 2007. Colorado Springs, Colorado
-   Bronze Medal = FITA 18 meters. Feb, 2008. Caledon, Ontario
-   Gold Medal = Ontario Indoor Provincial Championships. Feb, 17 2008. Caledon, Ontario
-   Gold Medalist = Canadian Indoor National Championships. March 2, 2008.[3] Caledon, Ontario
-   Qualified for the 2008 Archery Junior World Championships held in Turkey
-   Qualified for the 2008 Pan American Championships held in Valencia, Venezuela

Equipment

-   Hoyt Helix riser
-   Win & Win INNO Power Limbs
-   Easton V-bars
-   Easton ACE Carbon/Aluminum Arrows
-   Shibuya Ultima Sight
-   Doinker Stabilizer
-   Soma Tab
-   Neet Quiver

[1] http://newsdurhamregion.com/news/Sporting%20People/article/86705 Retrieved April 24, 2007

[2]

[3] http://fca.ca/Resultsfolder/2008/08Regionalindoor/08Regindoorprelim714-04-08.htm Retrieved April 24, 2007

title: Chris Haughton

question: Summarise what the text says about Chris's homeschooling, how it helped his skill in archery, and other activities he engaged in.

answer: Chris Haughton was home schooled to allow him to practice archery without interruption. He says his family was moving around a lot so they figured home schooling would be best. He defends home-schooling, saying he's able to practice archery anytime due to setting up practice targets at his home. He goes as far to say there is no waiting to get the rink, field or school day to end.

critique: The answer should mention his other hobbies.

critique: The answer should mention his other interests.

critique: The answer should mention his other activities.

critique: He defends home-schooling, saying he's able to practice archery anytime due to setting up practice targets at his home. He goes as far to say there is no waiting to get the rink, field or school day to end.

critique: "He defends home-schooling, saying he's able" - this makes it sound like Chris is defending home-schooling and should be removed.


text:
Have you ever paused and thought, what if I died today?
If my ghost stumbled by would you have something to say?
These are two questions stuck consuming my lonely night mind.
Rife with fear, I fall unto ears and knees and I pray.
“God please protect me from the perils of the outside world"

But what if the biggest dangers came from inside my own head?
I imagine them mobilizing, and arrayed all over my bed.
I picture them crawling all over me while I play dead.
But then I replied with a move of my own,
I silenced them out with my boast and a shout

But what if they had managed to hurt the ones I love?

They broke down my wails and chanted their own,
Meticulously reciting as if they had designed a plan to make me fear.
I begged for my mommy and divine intervention to be near.
And then they grew.
they flew one by one at me with unprecedented speed.

The first announced himself to be Greed.
Avarice,
The consuming avatar of malice had encroached on my space.

"Bitch get the fuck out my face."
And that was that, his chains corroding to rust.

Then came Lust,
a disgusting manifestation of the ladies I have come to trust.
She pulled out a picture of the girl I’ve come to like and said,

“Baby would you like some head,
or maybe just bust while I do all the thrusts?”

Yes, I admit it, yes I was tempted
but then the actual girl sexted and I then repented.
“Look slut
you are beautiful and you have a thick butt,
but that pussy crust just won’t do,
and I’d rather have my balls cut off then spend a night with you”.

Ha! That’s two down
and if I remembered my Catholic studies correctly,
there were still five prowling around.

“Hello I am the Glutton,
I was wondering if you could help me button up?
I have this mutton would mine if we muttoned up?"

This one was tricky
obese and yet he moved quickly
Yet I was faster

“Damn you’re a disaster,
you’re the master,
of your own destiny,
and here you are trying to get me plastered,
You tempt me to indulgence you hefty fat bastard but I will remain stout,
take with you your scrapings and get the fuck out!"

And on to the next
The third test had come and gone,
I cheered above the rest,
but the battle was afloat I chose to ride on.

The fourth was Sloth, procrastination at it’s best,
but he crept forth timidly and whispered in my ears...

“You’ve got talent boy,
but the materials you work with are toys so stop,
Sit and chop it up with me,
learn what it takes to be
lavish excellency."

I knew he was right/
the truth hit me like a deer in headlights,

“Oh Sloth,
the only sin I’ve maybe betrothed,
your slights upon my honor are sour and vast,
but I refuse to be last.
So for now I’ll look to the past,
to all the situations where I’ve emerged victorious,
It makes me realize that no matter how much effort I put into whatever I do,
it’ll still be glorious.
and if not that then notorious,
I'll command the forces across the whole planet,
And I’ll be damned if my figure won’t be solidified in granite.”

So he vanished,
and in the midst of his departure,
All the hatred I have banished,
over the years, suddenly reappeared,
It was neither man or woman but simply a shade,
garbed in all black and brandishing a blade.

“I am Wrath, and I come to offer thou revenge
A chance to avenge all the harm done against thou,
we can cut them open with a mere strike of my plow."

Wow, a chance of revenge? I suddenly thought of Miss Kang,
or the cops who made me break my bong.
But no it was wrong.

“My friend, this opportunity is a great on but this I must not allow,
I wouldn’t be able to deal with all of the pain caused because of me,
I’ll take a knee."

That was a close call
I still remember how that one freaked me out the most of all.
Then he popped up,
The douche who stole my buttercup.

“What the fuck do you want?
You already haunt me whenever you can."

Standing up, I rushed at him headfirst.
Fueled with Wrath, my breath grew heavy as I battled with Envy,
He cut across my path,
but I had already done the math,
had him fooled,
I laughed at him while my head cooled.
He was gone.

It was five in the morning and still I had no break,
struggling for I knew these sins were out to take,
my soul,
digging holes in my chest,
but I was the best and I laughed, reflected,
and what came next was something I never expected,
Thinking of all the strides I had to make to keep myself vigilant and awake,
my body began to quake,
my soul began to shake,
my heart accepted a new ache,
I made a fatal mistake,
I cried while my body died and my soul swallowed alive by the tide,
brought around by my very own consuming Pride.

title: [Capital Vices:Life's Seven Spices] Xpost from poetry

question: What does the text say about the ability to fight off bad behaviors?

answer: The narrator is able to fight off the seven deadly sins. He does this by using his own wit and by praying to God. He is able to fight off Greed, Lust, Gluttony, Sloth, Wrath, and Envy. The narrator is able to defeat the sins by using his own wit and by praying to God.

critique: The narrator is not able to fight off Pride.

critique: The narrator is not able to defeat the sins by using his own wit and by praying to God.

question: What does the text say about dangers from inside the mind?

answer: The narrator is afraid of the dangers that come from inside their head. They picture them mobilizing and arrayed all over their bed. The narrator silences them out with their boast and a shout. They imagine them crawling all over them while they play dead.

critique: The narrator is not afraid of the dangers that come from inside their head. They are afraid of the dangers that come from outside their head.

critique: "They imagine them crawling all over them while they play dead." - this was never mentioned anywhere in the text.

critique: The narrator is not afraid of the dangers, they are afraid of the perils of the outside world.

critique: The narrator is not afraid of the dangers that come from inside their head.

critique: It's omitted that the narrator thinks they are the biggest dangers.

critique: The answer should mention the seven deadly sins.

question: Summarize the narrator's relationship with wrath.

answer: The narrator is tempted by wrath, but ultimately rejects it. He is fueled by wrath when he battles envy.

critique: The answer doesn't mention the narrator's final defeat.

critique: wrath temptation occurs before the envy battle

critique: The response misses to mention that the narrator is tempted by Wrath, but ultimately rejects it.

critique: The narrator is not tempted by wrath, he is fueled by it.

critique: The narrator is tempted by Wrath, but ultimately rejects it. He is fueled by Wrath when he battles Envy.

question: What does the text say about the power of love?

answer: No answer

critique: The response misses to answer the question.

critique: The text does not mention anything about the power of love.

critique: The answer should mention the narrator's prayer.

critique: The text mentions love in the context of the narrator's prayers to God. The narrator asks God to protect him from the perils of the outside world and imagines that the biggest dangers are coming from inside his head. He tells the sins to get the fuck out of his face and refuses to be tempted by them. The narrator then banishes all the hatred he has over the years.