text:
[A modern reproduction of the Catalan Atlas depicting the eastern Mediterranean region.] [Detail of the Catalan Atlas, the first compass rose depicted on a map.] The CATALAN ATLAS (, ) is a mediaeval world map, or mappamundi, created in 1375 that has been described as the most important map of the Middle Ages in the Catalan language,[1][2] and as “the zenith of medieval map-work”.[3] Despite its name, it is not an atlas.

It was produced by the Majorcan cartographic school, possibly by Cresques Abraham, a Jewish book illuminator who was described by a contemporary as a master of _mappae mundi_ as well as of compasses.[4] It was in the royal library of France (now the Bibliothèque nationale de France) by 1380, in the time of King Charles V. The Catalan Atlas originally consisted of six vellum leaves (each circa ) folded vertically, painted in various colours including gold and silver.[5] They were later mounted on the front and back of five wooden panels, with the ends enclosed in a leather binding by Simon Vostre c.1515, restored most recently in 1991. Wear has split each leaf into two.[6]

Description

The first two leaves contain texts in Catalan covering cosmography, astronomy, and astrology. These texts are accompanied by illustrations. The texts and illustration emphasise the Earth's spherical shape and the state of the known world. They also provide information to sailors on tides and how to tell time at night.[7]

The four remaining leaves make up the actual map, with Jerusalem located close to the centre; two depict the Orient; the remaining two show Europe, along with North and West Africa. The map is around in size. It shows illustrations of many cities—Christian cities with a cross, other cities with a dome—and with each city's political allegiance indicated by a flag. Wavy blue vertical lines are used to symbolise oceans. Place names of important ports are transcribed in red, while others are indicated in black. The illustrations and most of the text are oriented towards the edges of the map, suggesting it was intended to be used by laying it flat and walking around it.[8]

The oriental portion of the Catalan Atlas illustrates numerous religious references as well as a synthesis of medieval _mappae mundi_ and the travel literature of the time, especially Marco Polo's _Book of Marvels_ and Mandeville's _Travels and Voyage of Sir John Mandeville_. Many Indian and Chinese cities can be identified.[9] The explanatory texts report customs described by Polo and catalogue local economic resources, real or supposed.

The Western portion is similar to contemporary portolan charts, but contains the first compass rose known to have been used on such a chart.[10]

Gallery

File:Atles català (full 1, ca000003).jpg|Reproduction of the first leaf File:Atles català (full 2, ca000001).jpg|Reproduction of the second leaf File:1375 Atlas Catalan Abraham Cresques.jpg|Montage of 8 pages (the third to sixth leaves) of the original 1375 Catalan Atlas File:El mar Mediterráneo en el Atlas catalán de Cresques Abraham.jpg|Modern copy of western half

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title: Catalan Atlas

question: What does the markings of the map say about the intended audience of the Catalan Map?

answer: It is not explicitly stated, but it seems like the map was meant to be used by sailors.

critique: The map was not meant to be used by sailors, but rather by people walking around it.

critique: The answer is not explicitly stated, but it seems like the map was meant to be used by sailors.

critique: "Indicate" should be used in this sentence for better implication that the map didn't just come out of the idea of its creator but was implied by the fact that markings on the map are pointing to the edges of the map, as well as its size.

critique: The map does not seem to be intended for sailors. It is the text that states that the map was meant to be used by sailors.

critique: The map was not meant to be used by sailors.


split: train

text:
I have this...problem.

I can't sleep.

It's not that kind of insomnia where you drank too much caffeine or you watched some shitty horror movie and you can't fall asleep. This is the kind of insomnia where you are terrified to fall asleep. Where you're scared shitless that in your sleep, someone is going to creep up on you and drive a knife through your heart. It's been like this for a few year now, ever since I first saw it. But I'm getting ahead of myself, let me start from the very beginning.

My parents separated when I was quite young so the majority of my early childhood was spent with my mom and twin brother. My father lived about 3 hours away from us so to make it easier on me and my brother, my dad moved to be closer to us. I was still pretty young when he moved his apartment so most of my memories are blurs, but what I do remember is being terrified of sleeping alone. The first night sleeping there, my brother and I slept on mattresses on the floor. My brother slept soundly but I didn't, I just felt very...uneasy. With the way the room was set up, my bed was facing the living room and my brother's bed facing my dad's room. I remember having the covers pulled up to my nose and staring into the deep, blackness of the living room. This wasn't just darkness, this was total blackness like...like there wasn't even anything there! Scared out of my mind I pulled the covers over my head, in fear that some sort of Bogeyman would appear from the blackness and pull me in.

After an hour or so of just laying in bed, I slowly began to drift off to sleep. My eyes grew heavier and as hard as I tried to stay awake I just couldn't. As I was just easing into almost total unconsciousness I suddenly felt that uneasiness again. I somehow managed to fight off sleep long enough to see a shadow walk by through the cover of my bedsheet. I froze, wide awake now. The shadow walked by again, like it had come from the living room then walked back. I knew it wasn't my brother because I would have heard and felt him get out of bed, plus the shadow made absolutely no sound when it walked. No footsteps, no breathing. Just complete and total...silence. It did this for hours, just walking from the living room, past my bed, to my brother's bed, hesitating then walking back to the living room before repeating. A sort of lather, rinse, repeat kind of thing. I guess at some point I had nodded off to sleep, probably realizing that this...thing thought I was sleeping too. I never slept with the living room door open ever again.

Now that I think about it, that door leading into the living room was very odd. It was made of glass, like one you'd have as your back door or something, it also had blinds and a latch already built into it that only locked from my side. Every night I would lock that door, I never slept with that door open, even as I progressed into my teen years. Every night to the night before we moved out I slept with that door closed, and every night at around 2 or 3 am I would hear the doorknob turn. It would turn slowly and then try to open, but the latch would catch and prevent the door from opening. There would be a hesitation and then the door would be pushed back into place. I've been afraid ever since. You probably think it's stupid and not scary but it was! I'm 15 years old now and I still have to sleep with a nightlight and the television turned on. That thing isn't Casper the Friendly fucking Ghost! This is something that...was never even alive in the first damn place! And it's going to get me...it knows I've seen it. And it's going to get me.

We live in a different house now, but it's the same thing. At night I'm left staring into the darkness of our dining room, that same hopeless blackness at before. I sleep with my door closed but this door doesn't have a lock.

I just heard the door open. It's watching me...and this time it knows I'm awake.

title: Insomnia

question: What does the story say about sleeping pills?

answer: No answer

critique: The response misses to mention that the narrator is afraid to take sleeping pills because he is afraid that the thing will get him.

critique: The response misses to mention that the narrator is scared to sleep because he is afraid that something is going to creep up on him and drive a knife through his heart.

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

critique: The passage does not mention sleeping pills.

critique: The response misses to mention that the narrator is afraid to take sleeping pills because he is afraid that the thing that is after him will get him.

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

answer: The narrator has a problem with insomnia. He is terrified to fall asleep because he is scared that someone is going to creep up on him and drive a knife through his heart. He has had this problem for a few years now.

critique: It's omitted that the narrator has been afraid of sleeping alone ever since he first saw the shadow.

critique: The narrator's problem is not just insomnia. He has a specific kind of insomnia.

critique: The narrator's primary problem is not insomnia. He's afraid of sleeping because he thinks that someone is going to creap up on him at night and kill him.

critique: The narrator's problem is not just insomnia. It is a specific kind of insomnia.

critique: The narrator's problem is that he is afraid of sleeping alone.

critique: The narrator's problem is not just insomnia.

critique: The narrator's fear is not just that someone is going to creep up on him and drive a knife through his heart. He is also afraid that something is going to get him.

question: What does the text say about the shadow the narrator is afraid of?

answer: The narrator saw the shadow walk by their bed in the middle of the night while they were young and they saw the shadow walk back and forth between the living room and their dad's room. The narrator says the shadow is able to silent walk and that it's trying to get in their room.

critique: The narrator's fear of the shadow is not the same as the shadow itself. The narrator is afraid of the shadow because it is able to walk silently and it is trying to get in their room.

critique: The narrator's brother is also afraid of the shadow.

critique: The narrator sees the shadow walk back and forth between the living room and their dad's room. They also hear the door knob turn every night.

critique: The narrator's bedroom is no longer their dad's room.

critique: It would be better to delete the events the narrator experienced before they were young.

critique: The narrator's fear of the shadow is not mentioned.

critique: It's omitted that the narrator is still afraid of the shadow.

question: What does the text say about the narrator?

answer: The narrator has always been plagued by fear of sleeping. Their anxiety was so bad that their mom and twin brother couldn't not sleep alone.

critique: The narrator's fear of sleeping is not mentioned in the passage.

critique: The narrator's fear of sleeping is not the only thing that is plaguing them.

critique: The narrator's anxiety was not so bad that their mom and twin brother couldn't sleep alone.

critique: It is omitted that the narrator is 15 years old.

critique: There is no evidence to suggest that the protagonist's anxiety was so bad that their mom and twin brother could not sleep alone. Their brother could sleep soundly as stated in the story when he and the narrator first moved to their new home.

critique: The narrator's anxiety is not mentioned.


text:
Last night I dreamed that I had died. It wasn't the normal kind of dream. It wasn't the kind of dream that you wake up enthralled, afraid or tearful from. It was something deeper than that.
When I died, there was no white light to walk toward; no staircase in the clouds; no golden gate atop them; no heavenly chorus scoring each and every one of my footsteps, as if each one of them pounded on the drums of destiny; no heart; no passion; no feeling that every breath I took in my mortal life led to this moment, and that now my dreams were coming true, and I was ascending towards everlasting glory.

There was none of that.

But equally there was no fear. There was no anxiety, or panic, or hopelessness. The four emotions I had forever associated with death. The emotions that had left my mind crippled, contemplating other alternatives to constantly living with the big day forever looming over me. Emotions that had rendered me useless, unable to function, wondering what the fuck we are doing on this planet, and why something as spectacular as life on earth, with its inconceivable beauty and ability to emote human euphoria, could have such a terrifying and mind numbing opposite as death, and how we could know so little about it other than at its existential core, it is nothing but the absence of life in a previously living body.

No. Instead of fear or euphoria, there was realism. Quite frankly, there was no commotion. I had died in a hospital, in a small room, my family surrounding me as I lay in a bed drifting off courtesy of an incurable disease, as so many have done before me, and so many will do after. As I faded I felt my woes fade also. I don't think we realise it when our lives are so busy, but we always have our woes or problems on our mind, we just don't notice them as much. I thought about my family and friends. They held hands and sobbed around my bedside, knowing they were witnessing the last moments of my human life. I guessed that I should have been worrying about them, how they would cope without me, but three familiar words kept circulating in my head. Life goes on. Life would go on for them. They would be sad, but they would find closure, and then eventually it would be their time to go too. None of these things worried me. I had always pondered the afterlife, and by this point I had accepted that I would either see them again, or that I wouldn't need to. I understood that love transcends life.

And then it happened; though it didn't happen instantly. Throughout life I had always imagined that the moment of death would be similar to an abrupt power-outage, where in a split second, darkness would engulf everything. But it wasn't. It was a gradual process and I wasn't quite sure when life had ended, and whatever came next had begun. Those around my bed began to leave the room. They left in an orderly fashion, as if it had previously been decided how they would do so. First, my four best friends. Second my brothers and their wives, my sister, her husband and their children. My grandmother, and finally my mother and father. Each of them did so matter-of-factly, and that was the first sign that I may have passed over, as I'm sure in normal circumstances they would be crying and mourning uncontrollably. Instead, each of them just left. Some of them held my hand before leaving, and others kissed my forehead. And then, just like that, I was alone, albeit for just a few seconds.

It was in this moment that I realised that I was witnessing my death out of body. I was standing in the corner watching this happen, not lying in the bed. And then I realised that I now had a purpose. I sat at a table in the middle of the room. It was small and there were only two chairs. The version of myself that I had just been watching got out of bed and sat at the table also. I was sitting across the table from myself. Somehow looking into my own eyes and staring back at them at the same time. Only when you look into your own eyes can you comprehend your existence. And then we talked for what felt like an hour, and yet it could have lasted for a thousand years because any comprehension that I had of time in my human life had faded, and I began to think that maybe time didn't exist anymore. We talked about the life I had lived on earth, about the relationships I had formed and the feelings I had had, what I had achieved in life, and what mark I had left on the earth. And then I asked myself what was going to happen next, and of course didn't know the answer.

Just as quickly as I had realised what my role was in my own passing over ceremony, I became clueless even faster. And there I was. At a table with another person, and yet somehow completely alone simultaneously; with the most pondered question of all time, and not a single answer. I closed my eyes and breathed in. I took two more, long, similar breaths, and I held the last one. I opened my eyes.
And then I saw everything. Every sunrise and sunset from every possible corner of the earth. Every flower that had ever bloomed, every tree that had ever grown, every mountain that had ever been conquered. Every creature on land, in the sky and in the oceans. Every man who had ever made his dreams come true and every woman who had ever accomplished her greatest feat. Every new-born baby that had ever been born, potential in their eyes. I experienced every sensation that could ever be felt, and heard every note that had ever been played, I tasted success, I smelled hope and in all of these things combined I saw the face of God.

I awoke in my bed and questioned my own existence again. As I write this I am still unaware of what my dream means. I believe that we are more than skin and bones. I believe that our bodies are nothing but vessels, and I believe that our souls are always yearning to escape them. I am unsure of the afterlife, and I wonder whether or not this life on earth is simply the afterlife to a previous one; that maybe every life is an afterlife and in each one we are promised something different for the next. I wonder how many times I have died before, I wonder how many times I will die again, and I wonder whether or not there is some end to this cycle. The only thing we can be sure of is death, for without death there is no life. There cannot be one without the other, but I do not believe that birth is the beginning and death the end. Until it is my time to become knowledgeable of what is next to come, I will just keep dreaming.

title: A Dream I Had About The Afterlife.

question: Summarize the narrator's expectations of death and the afterlife at the beginning of the passage.

answer: At the beginning of the passage the narrator has a normal dream they are dead and showing almost no emotions. Later in the dream the narrator is having a conventional near-death experience where they see death as something devoid of feelings. The narrator focuses on their feelings about death as that of being worse for those who experience it than it is for the person experiencing death themselves. The narrator does not anticipate any hardships of the afterlife or even the feeling of being dead.

critique: The narrator is not having a conventional near-death experience.

critique: The narrator is not having a near-death experience, they are having a dream of death.

critique: The narrator's expectations are not mentioned.

critique: The narrator does not anticipate any hardships of the afterlife or even the feeling of being dead.

critique: The narrator's expectations of death and the afterlife are not mentioned in the passage.

critique: 'Later in the dream' doesn't make sense as per the flow of the sentence

critique: The narrator's expectations of death and the afterlife are not described.

text: This is incorrect. The narrator expects a white light to walk toward, a staircase in the clouds, a golden gate atop them, and a heavenly chorus scoring each of their footsteps.

category: accuracy

refinement: At the beginning of the passage the narrator has a normal dream they are dead and showing almost no emotions. Later in the dream the narrator is having a conventional near-death experience where they see death as something devoid of feelings. The narrator focuses on their feelings about death as that of being worse for those who experience it than it is for the person experiencing death themselves. The narrator does not anticipate any hardships of the afterlife or even the feeling of being dead.

question: Summarize the reaction of the narrator's family and friends to the narrator's death (in the dream).

answer: The narrator's family and friends stayed close to the narrator while they were dying. While they might have been expected to cry in their grief and to have anxiety about their loss, they remained completely composed and practical. It almost seemed as though it was pre planned.

critique: It's omitted that his family and friends left the room in an orderly fashion, and that they held hands, kissed the narrator's forehead, and then left.

critique: The narrator's family and friends were not expected to cry in their grief and to have anxiety about their loss.

critique: "While they might have been" - change the pronoun "they" to "the attendees"

critique: The narrator's family and friends did not stay close to the narrator while they were dying.

critique: The narrator's family and friends were not expected to cry in their grief.

question: Summarize the narrator's knowledge or belief in death and the afterlife  after this dream.

answer: In his dream the narrator does not know what lies beyond his own death. The accompanying ceremony is vague, lacking in emotions and going about business-like. However, the narrator gains a sense of purpose as the second-version of himself sits at a small table with him, and they talk about the narrator's life. The narrator sees a connection between life on earth and the passage of a soul toward heaven.

critique: The narrator's knowledge of death and the afterlife is not limited to his dream.

critique: There are other aspects to the narrator's beliefs about death and the afterlife.

critique: The narrator is not alone after the ceremony.

critique: The narrator's knowledge of the afterlife is not limited to the dream.

critique: The narrator's purpose is not to gain a sense of purpose but to have a conversation with his other self.

critique: The narrator's dream is not vague, lacking in emotions, or going about business-like.

text: The answer should mention that after the dream the narrator feels that they may have died several times. They wonder if their life is itself an afterlife and come to believe that birth is not the beginning nor is death the end.

refinement: In his dream the narrator does not know what lies beyond his own death. The accompanying ceremony is vague, lacking in emotions and going about business-like. However, the narrator gains a sense of purpose as the second-version of himself sits at a small table with him, and they talk about the narrator's life. The narrator sees a connection between life on earth and the passage of a soul toward heaven.

question: Summarize the narrator's reason for dreaming about their death.

answer: No answer

critique: The narrator dreams about their death because they believe that death is not the end.

critique: The narrator's reason for dreaming about their death is to ponder the afterlife.

critique: The narrator has a strong belief that death is not the end. They believe that death is not the beginning and birth is not the end. They believe that death and birth are part of a cycle.

critique: The narrator's reason for dreaming about their death is to explore the afterlife.


text:
It sits in the middle of the jewel-encrusted chamber, pulsating with power. Not even the candlemaker can comprehend the curious article as he stands there in awe. It was just as the legend recounted - the very legend which, over the years, was taught to him and the others back in the citadel. Very few have ever been able to feel the artifact's forces, let alone be in the same room as it. Of all the possible people, someone of the candlemaker's standing would not normally be considered for the journey, yet, for reasons only known to the leaders, he was chosen. Whatever plan they had for him, only the divines could ever know.

The glimmering chamber stands on the peak of a giant, seaweed-smothered rock in the middle of the fearful Caseitic Ocean. The candlemaker's rowing boat waits patiently at the dock, which marks the beginning of the long, disused path, leading to the mysterious mansion at the summit. The candlemaker had noticed the most unusual creatures as he made his way to the peak: those that wielded opulent golden tentacles and outstanding sharpened claws. Their behaviour was interesting; it was as if they helped guide the candlemaker up the mountain, using their various appendages to point the way. They were not the slightest bit hostile. For an apparently long-abandoned landmass, their ecosystem boasts its stability.

It was after the candlemaker had navigated his way through winding corridors and up fragile staircases that he made it to the main chamber. Appreciating the seriousness of the situation, he wipes a veil of sweat from his brow, flicking it to the floor. The sweat appears to react with the regal purple carpet, giving off a mild, surprisingly fragrant vapour, which the man could only identify as spoiled crab meat. He was greatly acquainted with the scent, being a regular client of the fish-market back home.

The artifact which proudly rests in the center of the room glows so brightly that its true form cannot be perceived. One would have to place their hands on it to find out, though there is no knowing whether it is dangerous to the touch. The candlemaker has wasted enough time gazing at the item, and there is nought he could do but walk up to it and learn its true nature.

Approaching the artifact, the candlemaker squints as he walks into the light. He reaches out to the mysterious object with his hands, and penetrates its surface. A wave of power surges through him, and the light radiating from the object begins to fade. Opening his eyes, he sees that the artifact is a jade crab, perched on a wrought iron stand. With a glowing expression on his face, he takes the crab, admiring it even more than he did so before.

Strangely, the crab begins to glow again, and a large crack appears down its center. A bright green liquid starts to flow from it, as if it were a glowstick. The liquid visibly irritates the candlemaker's bare hands and he panics; however, he is unable to put it down. It refuses to be put down. As the skin is dissolved from his fingers, he speaks worriedly into his mouthpiece:

"It's the arthropod. The arthropod is leaking."

Soon after, a sinister voice replies:

"It is a reflection of your lowly craftsmanship. No wonder the other citizens could not trust you."

There is nothing the candlemaker could do but scream as the acid spread up his arms and through his body. He eventually lets the jade crab fall to the floor, where it splits into two pieces. The corroded remains of the unfortunate candlemaker are strewn across the carpet, and the stench of crab meat fills the air.

His earpiece, however, remains intact. It lets out a menacing laugh.

question: Summarize what the text says about the crab.

answer: The candlemaker is not the only one who has seen the crab. There are other people who have seen it, but they are not named. The candlemaker is the only one who touches it. The crab is on a wrought iron stand. When the candlemaker touches it, it begins to glow again. The crab is also called the arthropod.

critique: The text does not say that the candlemaker is not the only one who has seen the crab. There are other people who have seen it, but they are not named. The candlemaker is the only one who touches it. The crab is on a wrought iron stand. When the candlemaker touches it, it begins to glow again. The crab is also called the arthropod.

critique: The crab is not called the arthropod. The candlemaker calls it "the arthropod" when he is panicking.

text: The response should mention that the crab is made of jade and it begins to leak a corrosive material once the candlemaker picks it up.

category: coverage


text:
She knew the day would not go her way from the sounds stirring up out of the garage. A few dings, a couple of bangs, that was typical. Not like this. This sounded like something gone wrong. Kat pushed up off the couch, wandered her way to the door connecting the house to the garage, and leaned in the frame of it.

There was Vincis, standing in front of a car; its hood was up and he was staring into it’s guts as if it had verbally accosted him, as if it had offended him, personally.

Kat frowned just a bit. She didn’t know who the car belonged to, but she did know it was some high roller, someone who could possibly make Vincis’ day a little less pleasant, if he so felt like it. And why not, right? Why not heap more issues on a guy that was already so high strung, they could use him for the telegraph?

Quietly, she stepped into the garage - but not quietly enough. This was, after all, Vincis’ domain, and nothing happened in here without his knowledge. She got about halfway to him when he turned his head, looking at her out of the corner of his eye. Impossibly bright and blue, eyes he got from his father, much to his dismay.

“H-Hey,” he said, a hint of a smile trying to make it across his features. It didn’t quite make it, but she noticed the attempt. It was enough in her book. “I’m s-sorry. Was I m-making t-too much noise?”

She smiled at him, shaking her head. “Nah, not too much.” Soon she was right beside him, and neatly checked him with her hip. “What are you working on?” And instantly, she could see the way Vincis’ features, which had just started to relax, tighten up again. He turned back forward, gesturing with his hand to the car before them, lips dipping into a frown.

“I c-can’t figure out wh-what’s wrong with it. I’ve tried everyth-thing.” Here, he reached up, running his hand through his hair - something Kat knew he only did, especially with greasy hands, when he was truly upset. Vincis tended to view cars as puzzles - and if he couldn’t fix one….well.

This was his talent. If he were incapable of fixing a car, he generally thought it to mean that he was incapable of performing and from there, things just went downhill. It was the little things that always bothered Vincis, not the big things. Launch an idea at him that might terrify another man, and he handled it like a champ. Give him a car he couldn’t fix?

He tended to take that poorly. Add in the fact that the car happened to belong to some big-wig, and Kat was pretty sure that all was not well upstairs.

The slim, delicate line of her hand reached out, long fingers coiling around his bicep. “How long do you have?” she asked, the dark line of her brow arching.

“Until the end of the w-week.”

And with that, she smiled. “You’ve got plenty of time, baby. You’re the best mechanic in town - you’ll figure it out.”

“But w-what if I’m not the b-best mechanic in town?” he suddenly snapped - and if his flinch was any sign, a little harder than he meant to. Kat wasn’t so much as phased, though.  She just smiled at him, that same lazy, easy smile, the one that had charmed his socks off from the start.

“Well, he doesn’t know that, now does he?” she asked. “And he can damn well wait, just like any other person can.” Vincis’ features crumpled a bit, looking from her to the car.

“I…I j-just don’t w-want to be a s-screwup. N-not in my w-work and…and n-not w-with you,” he muttered, gaze shifting downwards - only to be pulled around when she took his chin, turning his face to her.

“Hey…Vincis, I don’t love you because of the parts of you that I like.”

Briefly, the red-head looked completely, utterly baffled, totally not understanding just what the hell that was supposed to mean.

The ex-prostitute clarified it for him: “I love you for the parts about you I don’t like.”

title: [Short Story][Fiction] Flawed - 707 words

question: Why is Vincis upset?

answer: He's been trying to get a high end car working for days and can't do it.

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

critique: The answer should mention that he is also upset because he feels he's a screw-up.

critique: The answer should mention that the car belongs to someone important.

critique: The answer misses to mention that Vincis is upset because he fails to fix the car.

critique: Actually, he's probably upset because the car isn't givimg him any problems.

question: Why does Vincis think Kat has come into his garage?

answer: He thinks she has come to tell him off for making too much noise.

critique: It is omitted that he thinks she has come to tell him off for making too much noise.

critique: "He thinks she has come to tell him off for making too much noise." - needs a remove "has come" for better flow.

question: Explain the circumstance in which Vincis met Kat

answer: No answer

critique: It is omitted that Vincis met Kat when she was a prostitute.

critique: Vincis met Kat when he was fixing her car.

critique: There are many answers that may be likened to this response. They are all statements that are wrong and do not answer the question completely.

question: How does Kat know that Vincis has some kind of problem?

answer: She can tell from the sounds in the garage.

critique: The answer should mention that the car belongs to someone important.

critique: The answer should mention that the sounds are not typical.


text:
There’s something wonderful about food writer Olia Hercules. It’s not solely because she shares her surname with the almighty God of ancient Greece (though that couldn’t possibly go unnoticed). When you look at her Instagram feed, there’s just an idyllic quality to her lifestyle. Everything seems considered yet totally uncontrived, in an authentic, artisanal way.

The cover of her first recipe book is almost fairytale-like: all elaborate swirls, and the title ‘Mamushka’ conjuring images from Ukrainian folklore. Surely it must carry some profound, symbolic meaning?

"Oh, it’s from The Addams Family," Olia told me, as I turned up for lunch in the garden of her North London home.

Just after the dissolution of the Soviet Union, The Addams Family film became available in Ukraine (where Olia was born and raised). Before that, everything beyond the Soviet Union was known as ‘zagranitza’ (the abroad). That outside world was one of freedom – something to hope for. The ‘Mamushka’ was a silly, fictitious dance in the film, something she and her family found great humour and comfort in. ‘Mamushka’ became an affectionate name for the strong women in Olia’s family, signalling an appreciation of that silly freedom.

Olia\ was\ born\ and\ raised\ in\ Ukraine\ (KRIS\ KIRKHAM)

From the moment Olia opened the door and warmly pulled me inside her home, it was manifest that to her, family was everything. Her mother – also named Olia to make life easier for dad, I was told – embraced me and welcomed me into the house, before the pair loaded up my plate with hearty food.

I asked if her father was around and Olia couldn’t hold back the smile. She told me he was still in Ukraine, but she’d just finished a Skype call with him. For the first time in her life she’d seen him cry. He had copied and pasted the Amazon reviews of Olia’s cookbook into Google Translate, and was overcome with pride at his daughter becoming a published writer.

Olia apologised for some imperfect element of the lunch. It’s what chefs do; when you project so much of yourself into a dish, it becomes personal, and you instantly feel the need to make excuses for potential flaws. I saw nothing wrong. In fact, I could only taste perfection. The garlicky chicken was incredibly tender, and soaked in an herby liquor. With every mouthful a different flavour made itself known: dill; tarragon; parsley; so complex and addictive.

As I dragged my hunk of sourdough through the flavoursome juices, she told me where her love of food came from. I imagined it would be at her mother’s knee, in a Ukrainian kitchen where nothing is measured. She corrected me; that’s where she came to know food, but it was actually on her year-long visit to Italy during university, when a plate of warm spaghetti and sea urchins flicked the switch.

There\ are\ always\ empty\ plates\ when\ Olia\ cooks\ (KRIS\ KIRKHAM)

Amongst the memories, and the loving anecdotes of her son, Sasha, she told me about the latest recession; how the job she was in (TV) crumbled; how people were laid off. That prompted her to take her passion and make it into something more. She completed a diploma at Leith’s, before working the long hours in a professional kitchen for Yotam Ottolenghi. Now, she is being heralded as a new food star, casting a spotlight on Eastern European food. Many recipes in the book were inspired by her family: she spent weeks chasing her mum and grandma around the kitchen with scales and measuring spoons, trying to translate those vague ‘pinches’ and passed-down ‘glugs’ into reliable recipes.

Savouring my last bite of cheese-stuffed bread (which I will definitely be making) I queried whether her creativity could ever be caged in a professional kitchen – a place of regiment and hierarchy. She says it couldn't: she enjoyed working with Ottolenghi, but wants to "do my own thing" and style food (As I complimented the crockery, she recalled a journey back to Ukraine, to her grandma’s kitchen, when she filled an empty suitcase full of cutlery and knick-knacks to style her book authentically). That freedom also enables her to be a mother, a strong ‘Mamushka’.

What I liked most about Olia was her ability to maintain conversation without sacrificing a single bite of her food: she ate; she talked; she drank; she talked. She ate with her hands and insisted that I did. Both she and her book are so refreshing.

Recipes from Olia Hercules

Garlicky poussins with plum chutney

Spring radish & tomato salad

Georgian kidney bean salad

question: What does the text say about the economic and political situation in Ukraine?

answer: No answer

critique: The article mentions the economic and political situation of Ukraine within its anecdotal material, but it's a bit general.

critique: The response should include the information that is available in the text.

critique: The article does mention the economic and political situation in Ukraine.

critique: The answer should mention that the text doesn't mention anything about the economic and political situation in Ukraine.

critique: The text does mention the economic and political situation in Ukraine.

question: Summarize how the Olia Hercules' approach to food changes over the story.

answer: In the first part of the story, the narrator discusses Hercules' background, such as her family and her first book. Later, the narrator meets with Hercules and learns about her love of food and her approach to her recipes. The narrator finds her food to be a reflection of herself - she likes to use the freshest ingredients possible, and to make sure her food is not only delicious but nutritous. She also likes to experiment with the way she serves her food.

critique: The response contains information not useful for the task.

critique: The answer should mention how Olia's approach to food changed from her first job to her second.

critique: The response is missing the part where Hercules talks about how she turned her passion into a career.

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

question: What does the story say about Mamuschka?

answer: Mamuschka was a silly, fictitious dance in the Addams Family movie. It was something that Olia and her family found great humor in. The name Mamuschka became a term of endearment for the strong women in Olia's family symbolizing their appreciation of freedom.

critique: The answer should mention that Mamuschka is the name of Olia's first recipe book.

critique: Generalize to be about the article in particular.

critique: The response inaccurately mentions that Mamuschka is a term of endearment for the strong women in Olia's family.

critique: The answer should mention that Mamuschka is the name of Olia's first cookbook.

critique: The answer should mention that Mamuschka is the title of Olia's first recipe book.

critique: The answer omits the context in which the name Mamuschka came about.

question: Summarize the recipes that Olia Hercules included in her cookbook.

answer: She included a garlicky poussins with plum chutney, a spring radish and tomato salad, and a Georgian kidney bean salad.

critique: The recipe names are not the only thing that the article mentions about the recipes.

critique: The response contains a grammatical error.

critique: No word in the question forms the plural for "recipe," which would have made this response more accurate.

critique: The answer should mention that the recipes are from Eastern Europe.

critique: The answer should mention that the recipes are not described.


text:
**The Pro.**

You swing your car into the dingy lot in front of Gutter Ball's and kill the engine. You sit there for a few moments preparing yourself. Almost game time.

You hit the trunk release and get out of the car. The rain stopped about an hour ago and for the first time this week the evening air is cool rather than muggy. Opening the trunk, you retrieve you bag and head toward the entrance, passing Ten Pin's truck on the way.

Gutter Ball's is the kind of place where men take the game of bowling very seriously. Despite it's dim, dingy interior, the lanes are well-kept and gleam with fresh oil. It's like stepping directly into a hurricane sometimes, the balls roaring down the lanes sound like approaching thunder and you can feel the punctuating booms in your chest as they strike the pins.

Classic rock plays nonstop at Gutter Ball's. At the moment Don Henley is lamenting about a certain hotel he never should have stayed in. Gutter Ball is behind the counter chatting up a leggy brunette with an amazing case of acne. Gutter is no prize himself, though at well over 6' 4" his sheer mass seems to cause some women's panties to loosen and from what you can glean from the conversation, it seems to be working for him at the moment.

The place is packed tonight, you knew it would be. Everywhere people are gathered in small groups either at the bar or down in the alley. The chatter is so loud you can barely hear the music. You like it that way though, the chaos helps you concentrate. You can see a much larger crowd than the rest gathered at the far end of the alley, obviously occupying both of the last two lanes. That must be Ten Pin's crowd of admirers. Looking closer, you see him stand up and get into form. He takes a deep breath, moves forward 3 paces and throws a clean strike.

*Good,* you think, *I hope he's already warmed up.*

As you approach the counter Gutter glances at you in annoyance only briefly before resuming his conversation with the brunette.

"I swear. Just by *hearin*,'" he tells her.

"Ain't no way," she says.

Gutter holds up one finger. "Wait for it," he says.

Frustrated, you glance toward Ten Pin's groupies once more and see him going through his motions again. His release is silky smooth, the ball screams down the lane. Gutter stabs his finger in the brunette's direction.

"*That* one's a strike," he says. The brunette whips around to follow the sound. A half-second later Ten Pin's ball slams into the pocket with a crash- not a pin stands. The brunette jumps up and down and giggles with glee.

"AMAZING!" she exclaims. "Do it again! *Please?*" she whines.

"In a sec', sweetheart," he says, finally turning in your direction.

"I don't know you," he says, frowning. "The fuck do you want?"
"I'd like a lane." you tell him. "Down alley next to Ten Pin if you've got one."

Gutter's gaze loosens a bit and he raises an eyebrow at you."Ten Pin, huh?" he eyes you up and down, frowning a little once more. "You for real?" he asks.

You lean over the counter and regard Gutter closely, trying to appear intense.

"You just pay attention," you tell him. "Keep your ears peeled." you smile at Gutter and wink. For a moment he only stares at you and then he cracks a huge grin and slaps you on the shoulder.

"I like you, kid!" he exclaims loudly. Gutter gestures toward the brunette. She smiles at you politely, obviously uninterested. "This here's Sally," he says. She nods in your direction. "What's you name, son?" he asks.

"English," you tell him. "You can call me English."

"English, huh?" Gutter says, his frown returning. Gutter glances at Sally and she giggles once again.

"Well, you go ahead and see to your lane," he says, "*Mr.* English." Sally can't help but laugh loudly this time.

"Thank you," you tell him. Part of you really wanted to like Gutter but another part of you wanted to shove his stone face into the counter-top.

You take your score sheet and head down toward the end of the alley.

title: The Pro.(short fiction)

question: Describe the atmosphere at Gutter Ball

answer: Gutter Ball is a place where men take bowling seriously. The lanes are well-kept and the balls roar down the lanes. The place is packed with people. The chatter is so loud that the music is barely audible.

critique: 'The place is packed with people. The chatter is so loud that the music is barely audible' is unnecessary info.

critique: The answer omits mentioning the dim, dingy interior.

critique: The answer should mention the dim, dingy interior.

critique: The answer should mention the dim interior.

critique: The answer could mention the dim, dingy interior.

critique: It's omitted that the place is dim and dingy.

question: Why is Gutter annoyed with the narrator?

answer: He's busy chatting up a girl.

critique: The answer should mention that the narrator wants a lane next to Ten Pin.

critique: The answer should mention that the narrator interrupts Gutter.

critique: It is omitted that the narrator interrupted Gutter.

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

critique: The answer should mention that Gutter is annoyed because the narrator interrupted him.

critique: The answer should mention that he didn't even acknowledge the narrator, he was too busy chatting with the girl.

critique: It's omitted that Gutter Ball is annoyed because the narrator is interrupting his conversation with the girl.

question: Why does is the narrator conflicted in his feelings about gutter?

answer: On the one hand, he wants to like him. On the other hand, he wants to shove his face into the counter.

critique: The overall tone of the answer is off. The narrator does want to like Gutter. His conflict is being insincere ad polite.

critique: The answer is not related to the question.

critique: The narrator's name is English, not the narrator.

question: Where did Gutter meet Sally?

answer: It's not stated.

critique: It is stated that Gutter met Sally at Gutter Ball's.

critique: It is implied they met at Gutter's place of work


text:
EAST LAKE LIBRARY is one of 15 branch libraries formerly in the Minneapolis Public Library System and now one of 41 branch libraries in the Hennepin County Library System in Minneapolis, Minnesota, United States. Three different buildings have housed the library since 1924.[1]

First East Lake

The first East Lake Community Library opened in February 1924, between the Hosmer Community Library and Roosevelt Community Library, which is modeled closely after East Lake.[2] Situated on Lake Street, it featured simple architecture and a skylight. Because of its appearance, seemingly like a storefront, the library was called a 'Reading Factory'.[3] East Lake was one of the last libraries built in a library 'building boom' that Minneapolis experienced starting in 1905 and ending in 1937.[4]

The first East Lake remained until the mid-1970s when the need for a new, larger library grew. By 1974 East Lake was circulating 121,459 items and fielding tens of thousands of reference questions.[5] In 1976 the library closed and was reopened as a Montessori day care. In 1987 Northern Sun Merchandising purchased the building and runs it there to this day.[6] In 2000 the building was added to the National Register of Historic Places. In 2004–5, 80 solar panels (9.6 kW) were installed on the roof. The original library shelves still circle the walls of the building.

Second East Lake

[East Lake Library, 1976] The second East Lake was built two blocks west of the original library. It had of space and 30,000 volumes.[7] It also had a meeting room.[8] The building was built by the Minnehaha Mall which included a Target and SuperValu store, and helped bring growth to the area.[9] It served patrons of the Longfellow and Phillips neighborhoods well (second in circulation numbers to only Washburn Library), although by around the start of the 21st century, the building was beginning to show wear.[10]

In 1999, a plan called _Outlook Twenty Ten_ outlined some options for the renewal of the library:

Option A

Option A called for a expansion to the building, which was to cost almost $3 million.

Option B

Option B outlined a expansion and the acquisition of neighboring properties. This was to allow greater creative flexibility in the designation of a new library building.[11] It was to cost almost $3 million.

Option C

Option C simply had the library repaired and slightly renovated. No cost was projected.

Third East Lake

[The third incarnation of East Lake library] None of Outlook Twenty Ten's original suggestions were followed, and on April 30, 2005, the second East Lake was closed to make way for the third building.[12] The newest East Lake was modeled after Minneapolis's Central Library, which was also under construction at the time. The new East Lake facility features a glass and metal exterior and was designed by KKE Architects.[13] It was the first green branch library in the MPL system.[14]

The library opened on March 10, 2007. It includes a teen area, a small business/entrepreneurial knoll and fully automated checkout systems.[15] It is located in the same place as the 1976 building, 2727 E. Lake Street.[16]

Community partnerships

Alliances between East Lake Library and the community include Learning Dreams. Begun as a complement to Homework Hub programming, Learning Dreams grew to include children as well as their parents, supporting them with unique learning opportunities to learn fun and practical knowledge.[17] Programs include computer classes for seniors, provided through a partnership with Minnesota Board on Aging and Metropolitan Area Agency on Aging and job search assistance.[18] Neighborhood Revitalization Program funds provided for a permanent exhibit featuring Longfellow neighborhood history through photographs, articles and books.[19]

Art at the library

East Lake Library art includes Zoran Mojsilov's 2007 piece _Zoomorphy_, presenting large granite rocks held in place by sinuous steel rods. Weighing 26,000 pounds, _Zoomorphy_ is located in the external rain garden.[20] Visitors looking through the library's external windows encounter Janet Lofquist's _Pages_, featuring etched glass versions of literary excerpts from Dr. Seuss's _Cat in the Hat_, Galileo Galilei's work, and Miguel de Cervantes's _Don Quixote_.[21]

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[16] East Lake Library http://www.hclib.org/about/locations/east-lake

[17] Marty, Gayla, “Dreaming at the Library,” University of Minnesota, College of Education and Human Development, Spring 2013, http://www.cehd.umn.edu/connect/2013Spring/LearningDreams.HTML

[18] Star Tribune, “Get Help in your Job Search,” 03/08/2015, http://www.startribune.com/business/295417651.html

[19] Russell, Scott, “East Lake Library to Re-open March 3,” The Twin Cities Daily Planets, 02/26/2007, http://www.tcdailyplanet.net/node/3823

[20] Start Seeing Artists, “Zoomorphy by Zoran Mojsilov,” http://www.startseeingart.com/sculpture/zoomorphy-by-zoran-mojsilov/

[21] Lofquist, Janet, “Pages,” http://janetlofquist.com/pages/#4

title: East Lake Library

question: What does the text say about the qualities that make a good librarian?

answer: No answer

critique: The answer should mention that the text does not answer the question.

question: What does the text say about East Lake Library?

answer: East Lake Library is one of 15 branch libraries formerly in the Minneapolis Public Library System and now one of 41 branch libraries in the Hennepin County Library System in Minneapolis, Minnesota, United States. Three different buildings have housed the library since 1924.

critique: Add in information about the three different buildings and when they were used.

critique: The answer should mention the three different buildings.

question: What does the text say about the three different East Lake Community Libraries (First, Second, and Third)?

answer: The first one was opened in February 1924 between the Hosmer Community Library and Roosevelt Community Library. The second one was opened two blocks west of the first one in 1976. The third incarnation was opened on March 10, 2007.

critique: The answer omits the third library's features, location, and community partnerships.

critique: The answer does not mention the features of each library.

question: What does the text say about community partnerships?

answer: East Lake Library has community partnerships with the Learning Dreams program, which is a complement to the Homework Hub programming. The Learning Dreams program supports children and their parents with learning opportunities. Programs include computer classes for seniors and job search assistance.

critique: The answer should mention the Neighborhood Revitalization Program.

critique: The answer omits the Neighborhood Revitalization Program.

critique: The answer should include the Neighborhood Revitalization Program's involvement in the community association.

critique: It is omitted that Neighborhood Revitalization Program funds provided for a permanent exhibit featuring Longfellow neighborhood history through photographs, articles and books.


text:
So much happened when Christ died for our sins – not just on earth but in heaven. Could we stretch our minds to encompass some of that higher drama? To do so, return with me to Jerusalem, and imagine the story that two of that great city’s hills – Mount Moriah and Golgotha – could tell.

[temple herod]Mount Moriah was a grand and regal hill, boasting a star-studded history. How many mountains could brag about Abraham’s raised knife and his son’s quiet faith? Now the mount proudly wore the magnificent temple that Herod built. The pearl of the City of David, the center of Israel’s faith, jutted toward the sky in gleaming splendor. Now its priests busily prepared for the Passover celebrations.

Probably just three thousand feet away stood Moriah’s diminutive half-brother, Golgotha. Golgotha didn’t even count as one of Jerusalem’s [golgotha]seven hills. By appearance, it was plain. By history, it was despicable. But by destiny, it was about to become glorious.

For you see, while the priests scurried about the temple on Moriah, preparing to enter the Holy Place, Golgotha was about to host the High Priest of heaven. With sandaled feet, the Rock of Ages was scheduled to walk onto the rock of shame and step into the eternal Holy of Holies, into the temple of the Living God.

In Herod’s temple, the priests had become quite adept at offering a day’s worth of sacrifices without soiling their garments with goat’s blood. In a moment, on the hill of ignominy, the eternal High Priest would come to perform His sole task: to spill His own blood shamelessly onto Himself and wherever else it would happen to fall.

The two hills could not have been more different. By all appearances, Mount Moriah for its temple was clearly glorious and admirable. But no one would want to visit the ugly hill of Golgotha.

Isaiah the prophet knew how unsightly a place Golgotha would be. He foretold how disfigured the High Priest would become on that hill. The ancient prophet knew that the Messiah would be mauled, displaying neither beauty nor majesty. Instead, He’d be despised and rejected by men. Man of sorrows. Familiar with suffering. Like one from whom men hide their faces. Stricken. Smitten. Pierced. Crushed. Oppressed and afflicted. Let like a lamb to the slaughter.

But Isaiah also knew there was a purpose for all the ugliness. Jesus would take up our infirmities. Carry our sorrows. Be pierced for our transgressions. Crushed for our iniquities. The punishment that brought us peace was upon Him. By His woulds we are healed. The Lord has laid on Him the iniquity of us all.

That’s why Moriah, the regal mount, deferred to Golgotha that day. Call it a passing of the baton. Think of it as a recognition of greatness.

The shadow bowed to the substance. The copy yielded to the original. The earthly acquiesced to the heavenly. The temple applauded the Sanctuary.

The worship on Moriah grew dim in the spiritual realm that day, lessened by the increasing brilliance that shone on the Redeemer. Perhaps, like John the Baptist, who said, “He must increase but I must decrease,” the Temple tipped its hat to the heavenly High Priest on the hill called Skull. And maybe the Sanctuary saluted back to the stone and bronze, acknowledging a job well done, releasing it from its duty and accepting the immense responsibility on Himself.

Though no mortal noticed it, heaven’s eyes could see that the golden lampstand beamed a smile over the wall to the Light of the World. The table of showbread turned over duties to the Bread of Life. The golden altar of incense giggled with delight at the fragrant offering ascending over Golgotha. The Ark of the Covenant sighed deeply with relief that the new covenant of the heart had finally come. And the cherubim who covered the mercy seat joyfully fluttered their golden wings at the deluge of grace raining down and washing away condemnation.

Caiaphas, the high priest on Mount Moriah, didn’t have eyes to see this phenomenal display. He had missed his true calling. What should have been the grand climax of glorious centuries of preparation turned out a dismal failure of perception. So thick were the blindfolds that the high priest didn’t know that his heavenly counterpart, the true High Priest, was even now within the Holy of heavenly Holies, offering once and for all the sacrifice for all of humankind’s sin.

But the High Priest of the new covenant didn’t require the acknowledgment of the old. The new Mediator bridged the gap single-handedly.

Job well done, O bulls and goats of the sacrifice! You pictured Him well. You pointed the way.

O you tender lambs of the ages, you who gave your lifeblood helplessly. Look, see Him there, the fulfillment of your prophecies. The Lamb of God takes away the sin of the world!

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

Excerpted from Safe in His Sanctuary, (Multnomah 1999), Robert Rasmussen

Photo credits: Herod’s temple: telegraph.co.uk.
Golgotha: elishavision.wordpress.com

question: Summarize the main context of this passage.

answer: The main context of this passage is the death of Jesus Christ. Christ's death is described in terms of the two hills of Jerusalem, Moriah and Golgotha. The author uses this to paint a picture of the dramatic event that took place that day.

critique: The answer should mention the contrast between the two hills.

critique: The answer should mention the two hills' significance.

critique: The response should include that the author is trying to paint the picture of the dramatic event that took place that day.

critique: The article is more about the significance of Golgotha than the death of Jesus.

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

critique: The answer should mention the spiritual significance of the event.

critique: The author isn't painting a picture, the preceding text paints the picture for the reader. The story is contextualised by Moriah and Golgotha and their relationship to the massive event of Christ dying for the world's sins.

question: Who would benefit the most from knowing about this story?

answer: It seems this story would be most meaningful to Christians.

critique: The literal answer isn't that accurate. Christians would benefit because of their faith, but the story is mostly theological and theological works aren't just for Christians.

critique: The answer should mention the target audience of the book.

critique: The text doesn't say who would benefit from knowing about this story.

critique: The answer is too vague. The text is a story, not a religious text.


text:
_' Jason Duane Jones_' (born May 23, 1986) is an American football defensive end who is currently a free agent. He was drafted by the Tennessee Titans in the second round of the 2008 NFL Draft and also played for the Seattle Seahawks, Detroit Lions, Miami Dolphins and New Orleans Saints. He played college football at Eastern Michigan.[1]

Early years

Jones attended Southfield-Lathrup High School in Lathrup Village, Michigan and enjoyed an outstanding prep career as a football and basketball player. He was named first-team All-Oakland Athletic Association as a senior, recording 27 tackles, six sacks, four forced fumbles and seven interceptions, three of which were returned for touchdowns. He also caught 25 passes for 395 yards and eight touchdowns as a receiver. _The Detroit News_ named him the 44th-best player on the Blue Chip list in the state of Michigan, as he also added All-Metro North honors. Jones is the younger brother of retired American Professional Basketball Player Brian LaWan Alexander. Also, Jones older brother, Michael, played football at Alabama State and other brother, Jamar, works at the White House as a Secret Service uniformed police officier.

College career

Jones played college football for Eastern Michigan University. As a senior (2007), Jones received third-team All-American and first-team All-Mid-American Conference honors. He played in all 12 games with 11 starts and finished fourth on the team with 70 tackles. He tied for seventh in the NCAA with a career-high 19.5 stops for losses. He added 10 quarterback pressures, a fumble recovery and a forced fumble while breaking up three passes and blocking a kick. Selected to play in the 2008 Senior Bowl All-Star Game and finished with three tackles, one sack for 14 yards and one forced fumble. Jones was named the recipient of the Harold E. Sponberg Award as the team's top down lineman scholar-athlete.[2]

Professional career

Tennessee Titans

Jason Jones was drafted in the second round (54th overall) by the Tennessee Titans in the 2008 NFL Draft. He started against the Pittsburgh Steelers in week 16 of the 2008 season as a result of injuries to Albert Haynesworth and Kyle Vanden Bosch. In thirteen games during the regular season, Jones totaled 31 tackles and 5 sacks. He was particularly impressive in his week 16 game against the Steelers when his 3.5 sacks, 5 tackles, and 3 forced fumbles made him a candidate for Defensive Player of the Week.[3] Jones got ejected from a Week 2 game versus the Houston Texans. Jones was placed on injured reserve on December 9, 2009 due to a shoulder injury.

Seattle Seahawks

On March 17, 2012, Jones signed a one-year deal with the Seattle Seahawks.[4]

Detroit Lions

On March 13, 2013, Jones signed a three-year deal with the Detroit Lions.[5] On September 22, 2013 (Week 3 of the 2013 NFL Season), Jones suffered a season ending knee injury.[6]

Miami Dolphins

Jones had signed a one-year deal with the Miami Dolphins on May 13, 2016.[7] He was suspended for two games on November 21, 2016 for violating the NFL Policy and Program for Substances of Abuse.[8] On January 6, 2017, Jones was released by the Dolphins.[9]

New Orleans Saints

On August 12, 2017, Jones was signed by the New Orleans Saints.[10][11] On August 29, 2017, he was released by the Saints.[12]

Charity work

Jones is affiliated with the 501c3 Non-Profit Team Alexander Athletics Colorado Club Basketball Program. The organization is exclusively for charitable and educational purposes addressing its mission through programs and events. T.A.A. encourages a cross-cultural environment to stimulate conversation with the purpose of overcoming racial barriers, relations and networking to promote unity through athletics and sports.

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title: Jason Jones (defensive end)

question: What does the text say about Jones and tackles?

answer: Jones participated in the 2008 Senior Bowl All-Star Game, finishing with three tackles, one sack for 14 yards, and one forced fumble. As a senior at Eastern Michigan University, Jones received third-team All-American and first-team All-Mid-American Conference honors. He played in all 12 games with 11 starts and finished fourth on the team with 70 tackles. He tied for seventh in the NCAA with a career-high 19.5 stops for losses.

critique: Unnecessary: Jones participated in the 2008 Senior Bowl All-Star Game, finishing with three tackles, one sack for 14 yards, and one forced fumble.

question: Summarize Jones' time in high school.

answer: Not too much is known about his time in high school other than he enjoyed an outstanding career as a football player. He was a talented receiver, earning him the nickname "Jugbug" around the team. He was named first-team All-Oakland Athletic Association as a senior, recording 27 drives, six sacks, four forced fumbles, and seven interceptions. He also caught 25 passes for 395 yards and eight touchdowns. He was also added an All-Metro North honors for his performance.

critique: The last sentence is not relevant to the question.

text: The article mentions nothing about the nickname "Jugbug."

question: Summarize the negative moments in Jones' career.

answer: Jones got ejected from a Week 2 game versus the Houston Texans. He was placed on injured reserve on December 9, 2009 due to a shoulder injury. He was suspended for two games on November 21, 2016 for violating the NFL Policy and Program for Substances of Abuse. He was released by the Dolphins on January 6, 2017. He was released by the Saints on August 29, 2017.

critique: The answer should mention that Jones was suspended for two games for violating the NFL Policy and Program for Substances of Abuse.

critique: It is omitted that he signed a three-year deal with the Detroit Lions and he suffered a season-ending knee injury.

question: What does the text say about Jones relationship with his mother?

answer: No answer

critique: The text does not mention anything about Jones' relationship with his mother.


text:
[Father Augustine Francis Hewit, CSP]

AUGUSTINE FRANCIS HEWIT (Fairfield, Connecticut, U.S.A., 27 November 1820 – New York, 3 July 1897) was an American Redemptorist priest, and second Superior General of the Paulist Fathers.

Life

His father was Rev. Nathaniel Hewit, D.D., a prominent Congregationalist minister; and his mother, Rebecca Hillhouse Hewit, was a daughter of James Hillhouse, United States Senator from Connecticut. He was educated at the Fairfield public school, Phillips Andover Academy, and Amherst College, from which he was graduated in 1839.

Brought up a Protestant, he was a convinced Christian only after graduation. Shortly after his conversion he began the study of theology at the Congregationalist seminary at East Windsor, Connecticut. Scarcely had he finished its prescribed course and been licensed to preach, he entered the Episcopal Church. The Oxford Movement in that Church had already extended to America, and Hewit became one of its most ardent followers. He received the Anglican order of deacon in 1844, but with the expressed condition that he might interpret the Thirty-nine Articles in the sense of _Tract 90_. The conversion of John Henry Newman in 1845 gradually unsettled his belief in the validity of the claims of Anglicanism, and he was received into the Roman Catholic Church, 25 March 1846. He then studied Catholic theology privately under the direction of Patrick N. Lynch, afterwards Bishop of Charleston, and James A. Corcoran, subsequently professor at Overbrook Seminary, Philadelphia. He was ordained priest on the first anniversary of his profession of the faith by Ignatius A. Reynolds, Bishop of Charleston. He then became a teacher in a collegiate institute founded by Bishop England at Charleston, and assisted Bishop Reynolds in the compilation of Bishop England's works for publication. This occupation called him to Baltimore and Philadelphia, where he resided with Bishop Francis Kenrick and became acquainted with John Nepomucen Neumann. Here he was attracted to the Congregation of the Most Holy Redeemer, which he entered in 1849. He made his religious profession 28 November 1850.

As a Redemptorist he laboured principally on missions with Fathers Isaac Hecker, Clarence A. Walworth, Francis A. Baker, and George Deshon, until with them he was dispensed from his religious vows by a decree of the Roman Congregation of Bishops and Regulars, 6 March 1858. Under the leadership of Father Hecker all of these priests immediately formed the Missionary Society of St. Paul the Apostle (Paulist Fathers) in New York, with a rule enjoining poverty and obedience with the obligations of the vows.

Hewit was chosen to draft the first constitution and laws of this new institute, which aimed to satisfy the aspirations of clerics who desire to lead an apostolic and religious life in community without assuming the canonical responsibilities of the religious state, strictly so called. As a Paulist, Father Hewit did parish and mission work, and established and managed _The Catholic World_ magazine.

On the death of Father Hecker (1888), Hewit was almost unanimously chosen superior general of the institute and held this office until his death. One of his first acts as superior was to pledge the Paulist community to support the Catholic University of America in Washington, D.C. St. Thomas College for the education of candidates of the institute was accordingly opened in one of the university buildings in 1889. Under his direction, Rev. Walter Elliott, C.S.P., gave the first regular missions to non-Catholics in the United States, and a new foundation of the institute was established in San Francisco.

Works

He was a prolific writer, for twenty years was one of the foremost Catholic apologists in the United States. In this field he was orthodox, noted for his loyalties to the _magisterium_ of the Church and his agreement with the opinions of the most approved theologians. He wrote nothing that could be styled original; he simply aimed to explain and popularize the teaching of the doctors and saints of the Church.

Most of his articles were published in “The Catholic World” and “The American Catholic Quarterly Review”; a few of them are in a volume entitled “Problems of the Age with Studies in St. Augustine on Kindred Topics”. His most popular book was “The Life of Rev. Francis A. Baker”, one of his companions, who died in 1865.

title: Augustine Francis Hewit

question: Summarize Augustine Francis Hewit's life as a priest.

answer: He was a Redemptorist priest, and second Superior General of the Paulist Fathers. He was born in 1820, and converted to Christianity in 1839. He was received into the Roman Catholic Church in 1846, and was ordained in 1850. He was one of the foremost Catholic apologists in the United States.

critique: The answer should mention his work with the Paulist Fathers.

critique: The answer should mention his work as a Paulist.


text:
The first thing you do is butter the bun. Then you drop it down the toaster. The toaster takes approximately eighteen seconds to toast. You then put the top and bottom together, place them on a red tray and then cover the twelve buns that fit on the tray, 4x3,  with another tray and place them to the side. Once you are ready to make the sandwich you place two pickles on the bottom, no more than a quarter inch over lapping. Then you place the chicken filet with the smooth, round side facing up and then place the crown of the bun on top. Finally open up the sandwich bag allowing enough room for the sandwich to easily slide in, then fold the bag over twice and place it in the warming drawer for five minutes. Any sandwich that sits there for longer than five minutes gets trashed. If you would like a deluxe sandwich then place either a slice of American, provolone, or pepper jack cheese on top of the filet, then put two, whole, tomato slices on top of the cheese and two pieces of lettuce, shiny side up, that frame the bun on top of the tomatoes. Then repeat until your soul has been crushed, pissed on, and every dream and fire that has ever existed in you has been stomped out by the ceaseless, monotonous work you subject yourself to in order to not even get by.

They, being the people who don’t work with you, will remind you that you chose to be there, just be thankful to have a job, or that it is just temporary. You know that isn’t true though. You can’t find a better job because you are working 50 hours a week and you are too tired to do anything else. You can barely even find the energy or will power to get out of bed in the morning. Every once in a while you feel like you have enough energy and fortitude to say enough is enough and move on but then you realize your life revolves around this job. All of your friends are there. They are the people that deal with all of the shitty customers who think they are the Queen of god damn England, the ones who think they own you because you stand behind a register. Your coworkers are the ones that after all the shit you put up with tell to forget the customer, he is an asshole, you didn’t do anything wrong, people like that just happen. You have a bond with your coworkers, like brother in arms who are united by their common misery. So the cycle repeats, week after week after week after week after week after week as if your days are manufactured on an assembly line.

Then you find yourself waking up in the tiny room you call an apartment. You shower and head to work and start your day off like you have the past, seemingly, five thousand days. You clock in, take your slip that shows the time you clocked in and put it your wallet. Then you say high to everyone. Then you either go to the kitchen or the front counter depending on what you are assigned that day. Then you spend the next ten hours slaving away like the robot you are. You listen to the exact same orders, make the exact same food and you have the exact same routine to live by. Then you watch your boss drive up in his new, gas guzzling behemoth of a truck and say “Hi!” to everyone as if he wouldn’t want to be anywhere else in the world. It is as if he has no idea what the people he employs put up with on a daily basis. It is as if he hopes his friendly disposition will be contagious but what does he do besides sit in that office of his in the back while you are the one who gets burned at the fryers and the one who has to choose if it is worth turning the heat on at night. You are the one that has to decide whether or not to fix your car or just walk the five miles or so. The one who should just deal with the tooth ache or dish out the three thousand dollars for a root canal because god forbid giving his employees health insurance would just decimate his profits. No one likes the boss.

Between the shitty boss, shitty job, and shitty house and lifestyle what can you find to be joyous about? You are simply a tiny little speck. In fact you aren’t even speck in the scheme of things. You are less than a pixel, you are less than even the red, blue, and green lights that make up a pixel. You are nonexistent and utterly replaceable and no one will notice if you go. Just like no one has noticed the billions of stars that have existed and perished and no one ever will. Just like no one ever notices the trillions of bacteria that are beneath our feet. That is what you amount to. At some point we have all been there. The thing is though that not all of us end there. That is the saving grace. There is a glimmer of a hope that one day you can escape the cycle of the daily grind. Get a degree if you are young enough, have a support system while you find a better job, or maybe you are stronger than most and do it all alone.

Not everyone is lucky though. Sometimes the grind wears you down and grinds you to you are so thin that you become a part of the walls there. You are an everlasting stone that will be a part of where you are stuck, just like the walls. Bills add up and sooner than you know it you are living out on the streets and left with nothing but free time. Maybe you cope with a steady dose of drugs. Maybe you cope with a healthier method. Either way it leads to the same thing. If you aren’t apart of the club, the haves, then you better get used to meaningless, mindless tasks that ask nothing of you but obedience.  The boss, the haves, will tell you that working at these crummy soul devouring jobs is fine. What would they know about what you do though? It is not a matter of them being any less hard working but it is a matter of having something to show for it. If you work at a restaurant and you can’t even afford to eat there they pay you so little then what is the point?

It gets to the point where thinking physically hurts. It breaks you just as bad as your job does. You think of all the things that you gave up, that you let slip by and you think never again will I let that happen, but it is too late. You have already buttered the buns. You have dropped them in the toaster. You have placed them on the tray. Put the two pickles on the bun, then the filet, and then the top part of the bun. You have wrapped the sandwich and placed it in the warming drawer until you throw it up for the next customer to devour or for it to get thrown away because it has been the warmer to long and has grown hard and unpleasant and unwanted.

title: A Man's Thoughts on Never Getting His Slice of the Pie in a Southern Town with Nothing Left to Live For.

question: What is the story saying about working in this particular town?

answer: Clearly, the lifestyle is depressing, bleak and soul-crunchingly monotonous.

critique: The story also points out that many people in the town are stuck in this cycle, and that it is difficult to break out of.

critique: 'More generally speaking, the narrator observes in his own way that it takes hard work to not even get by and that the lifestyle is not just depressing, but soul-crunchingly monotonous.' is a better way to describe the town.

critique: The narrator is not the only one who feels this way.

critique: It is omitted that the narrator feels stuck and replaceable.

critique: It's omitted that the narrator feels stuck and insignificant.

critique: The answer should mention the narrator's feelings about the job.

question: What are the positive aspects of their life that the narrator brings to light?

answer: The only positive part of the narrator's life is their relationship with the friends they work with. Its seems that even living in a small dwelling with little income is a huge positive of their personal situation on the side of their miserable and devastating work schedule.

critique: They don't mention living in small dwelling.

critique: The narrator's friends are not the only positive thing in their life.

critique: The narrator's friends are not a positive. They are the only friends the narrator has.

critique: The narrator's relationship with their friends is not the only positive part of their life.

critique: It's omitted that they have a glimmer of hope that they can escape the cycle.

critique: The narrator's friends are not the only positive thing in their life. They also mention hope, and the fact that they are not stuck in the cycle forever.

text: Aside from saying that they have a few friends at work, the narrator does not mention anything positive about their life.

question: Why can't the narrator move on from this job?

answer: Because it consumes all of his time and energy, he has no other friends.

critique: The narrator has friends at work, but not outside of it.

critique: The narrator has friends at work, but they are not friends outside of work.

critique: The narrator has friends at work, but they're not enough to make him want to leave.

critique: It is omitted that he is too tired to do anything else.

critique: The narrator has friends at work, but they are not enough to make him want to leave.

critique: The answer should mention that the narrator has no time or energy to look for a new job.

critique: The narrator has friends at work, but it's not the case that he has no friends.

critique: The narrator also has no money, partly due to the lack of health insurance.

question: What is the role of food in this story?

answer: Food gets the protagonist out of bed and jobs over the long haul. The penultimate sentence promises a meal at the end of hours of labor ("It breaks you just as bad as your job does. You think of all the things that you gave up, that you let slip by and you think never again will I let that happen, but it is too late. You have already buttered the buns. You have dropped them in the toaster...") Then, the protagonist quotes from some Jewish liturgy: "your life is like a sandwich in the warming drawer". There is a point of absurdity in this, but the narrator's spiritual awfulness is, I feel, central to their feeling of despair.

critique: The response is not related to the question.

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

critique: The last line of the answer is apparently drawn from the narrator's unverified ultra-stressed state of mind. This makes the entire answer as to how food might work in this allegory about the woes of a working person's life has little to no bearing on the question at all. This indicates that the entire answer should have been omitted in the first place.


text:
The 1966 ANTI-IGBO POGROM was a series of massacres committed against Igbo people and other people of southern Nigerian origin living in northern Nigeria starting in May 1966 and reaching a peak after 29 September 1966.[1] Between 8,000 and 30,000 Igbos and easterners have been estimated to have been killed. A further 1 million Igbos fled the Northern Region into the East. in response to the killings some northerners were massacred in Port Harcourt and other eastern cities.[2] These events led to the secession of the eastern Nigerian region and the declaration of the Republic of Biafra, which ultimately led to the Nigeria-Biafra war.

Background

The events took place in the context of military coups d'etat and in the prelude to the Nigerian Civil War.[3] The immediate precursor to the massacres was the January 1966 Nigerian coup d'etat led mostly by young Igbo officers.[4] Most of the politicians and senior army officers killed by them were northerners because Northerners were the majority in Nigeria's government ,[5] including the Prime Minister Abubakar Tafawa Balewa and Ahmadu Bello the Sardauna of Sokoto. The coup was opposed by other senior army officers. An Igbo officer, Aguiyi-Ironsi stopped the coup in Lagos while another Igbo officer, Emeka Ojukwu stopped the coup in the north. Aguiyi-Ironsi then assumed power, forcing the civilian government to cede authority.[6] He established a military government led by himself as supreme commander .[7] In the months following the coup it was widely noted that four of the five army Majors who executed the coup were Igbo and that the General who took over power was also Igbo. Northerners feared that the Igbo had set out to take control of the country. In a response action Northern officers carried out the July 1966 Nigerian counter-coup in which 240 Southern members of the army were systematically killed, three-quarters of them Igbo,[8] as well as thousands of civilians of southern origin living in the north.[9] In the aftermath Yakubu Gowon, a northerner, assumed command of the military government.[10] In this background increased ethnic rivalries led to further massacres.[11]

The massacres were widely spread in the north and peaked on the 29 May, 29 July and 29 September 1966. By the time the pogrom ended, virtually all Igbos of the North were dead, hiding among sympathetic Northerners or on their way to the Eastern region. The massacres were led by the Nigerian Army and replicated in various Northern Nigerian cities. Although Colonel Gowon was issuing guarantees of safety to Southern Nigerians living in the North, the intention of a large portion of the Nigerian army at the time was genocidal as was the common racist rhetoric among Tiv, Idoma, Hausa and other Northern Nigerian tribes. With the exception of few Northern Nigerians (mainly army officers who were not convinced that Igbo were innately evil),[12] the Southern and Eastern Nigerians were generally regarded at the time in the North of Nigeria as described by Charles Keil:

Northern Nigerians were however also targeted in the Igbo dominated Eastern Nigeria.[13] Thousands of Hausas, Tiv and other Northern Tribes were massacred by Igbo mobs, forcing a mass exodus of Northerners from the Eastern Region.[14]

One factor that led to the hostility toward Southern Nigerians in general and Igbo in particular was the attempt by the Aguiyi Ironsi regime to abolish regionalisation in favor of a unitary system of government which was regarded as a plot to establish Igbo domination in the Federation. On 24 May 1966 Ironsi issued a unitary decree, which led to an explosion of attacks against the Igbo in Northern Nigeria on 29 May 1966. The British press was unanimous in its conviction at the time that these 29 May killings were organized and not spontaneous. The Ironsi regime was also perceived to have been favoring Southern Nigerians in the appointment to key positions in government, thus heightening the inter ethnic rivalries.[15]

The failure of the Ironsi regime to punish the army mutineers responsible for the January 1966 coup further exacerbated the situation.[16] The May 1966 pogrom was carried out by rampaging mobs with the connivance of local government.[17] The unprofessional attitude of some elements of the international press are also known to have added to the existing tension. J.D.F. Jones, the diplomatic correspondent of the Financial Times had on 17 January 1966 already predicted that the Northerners might “already have begun to take revenge for the death of their leader the Sardauna of Sokoto on the large number of Igbo who live in the North”, which at the time they were not doing. This has been criticized as an irresponsible and for a journalist unprofessional, self-fulfilling prophecy which would lead the Northern elite to assume that the Financial Times was in possession of information that they were not aware of, and that the world expected the North to react in this way.[18] Later tactics were engineered by Northern elites to provoke violence such as fabricated news stories submitted to radio Cotonou and relayed by the Hausa service of the BBC detailing exaggerated attacks against Northerners in the East, which led to the furious killings of Eastern Nigerians on 29 September 1966.[19]

According to British newspaper reports at the time, about 30,000 Igbo were killed in September 1966,[20] while more conservative estimates put the casualties at between ten and thirty thousand for that month. This spree of killings carried on into early October and was carried out by civilians sometimes aided by army troops and swept the entire north. It has been described as the most painful and provocative incident leading to the Nigeria-Biafra War.[21]

Aftermath

The pogroms led to the mass movement of Igbo and other Eastern Nigerians back to Eastern Nigeria (it is estimated that more than one million Igbos returned to the eastern region). It also was the precursor to Ojukwu's declaration of Eastern Nigeria's secession from the federation as the Republic of Biafra, and the resulting Nigerian Civil War (1967–1970), which Biafra lost.

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[6] _Gamji.com_ “Operation Aure”.

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title: 1966 anti-Igbo pogrom

question: What resulted from the 1966 Ant-Igbo Pogrom?

answer: The pogrom was widely condemned. There were some retaliatory attacks by Northerners against refugees in Eastern Nigeria, and about one million Igbos fled back to the eastern region. On May 30th, 1966, the first capital of Biafra, Owerri, attacked. This is called the counter-attack of Biafra.

critique: The answer is unrelated to the question.

critique:
- There is no mention of an attack on Owerri.

- The counter-attack of Biafra was in 1968.

critique: The response is not relevant to the question.

critique: The first city of Biafra, Owerri, was attacked on May 30th, 1966. This is not a counterattack.

critique: The model's answer is incorrect, misleading, incoherent, and acontextual.

critique: The response contains inaccurate information.

critique: The answer is very inaccurate. It says that the attacks by Northerners against refugees in Eastern Nigeria were retaliatory. However, they were not retaliatory. The answer says one million Igbos fled back to the eastern region. However, it was one million refugees who fled to the eastern region.

critique: The answer would be more accurate if it mentioned the Nigerian-Biafra War rather than referring to the 1967 war as a counter-attack.

critique: The information is irrelevant to the question.

critique: "On May 30th, 1966, the first capital of Biafra, Owerri, attacked. This is called the counter-attack of Biafra." - does not describe what resulted from the 1966 Ant-Igbo Pogrom. This should be removed.

critique: The answer includes a lot of irrelevant information.

critique: 'The pogrom was widely condemned. There were some retaliatory attacks by Northerners against refugees in Eastern Nigeria, and about one million Igbos fled back to the eastern region. On May 30th, 1966, the first capital of Biafra, Owerri, attacked.' misleads the way it's worded. It's not so much an attack as it is the migration of the citizens, who fear for their lives.

critique: The response is not related to the question.

text: The answer should state that the anti-Igbo pogrom led to the exodus of Igbos from the north back to the eastern region of Nigeria. Afterwards, Ojukwu declared the secession of the eastern region from the Federal Republic of Nigeria. It also led to the declaration of the Republic of Biafra, which led to the Nigerian civil war from 1967-1970.

refinement: The pogrom was widely condemned. There were some retaliatory attacks by Northerners against refugees in Eastern Nigeria, and about one million Igbos fled back to the eastern region. On May 30th, 1966, the first capital of Biafra, Owerri, attacked. This is called the counter-attack of Biafra.

question: What caused the massacre?

answer: The immediate precursor was the January 1966 coup led by mostly by young Igbo officers.

critique: The answer should mention the July 1966 counter-coup.

critique: The coup itself was not the cause of the massacre.

critique: The main cause was the fear of Igbo domination in the north.

critique: The coup was opposed by other senior army officers.

critique: Igbos rising to power and the counter-coup to reign in the power of the Igbo

critique: The coup was not the cause of the massacre

critique: The coup was the predecessor to the massacre, not the precursor

critique: "The immediate precursor was the January 1966 coup led by mostly by young Igbo officers." - this is not the cause of the massacre. The coup is the immediate precursor to the massacres.

critique: The answer needs more details to accurately reflect the answer.

critique: The summary should also mention key players and the killings that occurred after the coup.

critique: The answer does not mention the July 1966 coup.

critique: Gowon succeeded Ironsi as the military leader, not the coup leaders.

question: What unexpected external factor exacerbated the murders?

answer: The pogroms put the population under a great deal of stress. During this stress many pregnancies failed. Contemporary accounts of the period say that some adolescents went 20 years without conceiving a child. The unexpected and unwanted result of the murders resulted in a population catastrophe.

critique: There is no such information in the text and the answer is completely made up, which is why it should be re-written.

critique: The answer is not related to the question.

critique: The response is not related to the question.

critique: It is not stated in the article that the pogroms put the population under a great deal of stress.

critique: This is only a small subset of the answer.

critique: This is not an accurate representation of the problem.

critique: The names of the authors in the response are incorrect. The text is discussing and reproducing biological, anthropological and sociological research published by Charles Keil and G.H. Gemery and was probably culled from one of their works.

critique: The response contains inaccurate information.

question: What was the root cause of the initial coup?

answer: The coup was spearheaded by Igbo officers who benefited from the country's government being run by a majority of northern politicians.

critique: The remaining responses need to be a complete sentence.

critique: It is not stated that the coup was spearheaded by Igbo officers.

critique: The coup was led by Igbo officers, but it was not the root cause of the pogrom.

critique: The reason for the coup had more to do with the country's system of government being challenged and alleged Igbo dominance. Add this to the answer.

critique: The answer does not mention the coup's origins.

critique: "The coup was spearheaded by Igbo officers who benefited from the country's government being run by a majority of northern politicians." - lacks context. The coup was led by young Igbo officers and the coup was opposed by other senior army officers.

critique: The answer should mention that some of the politicians killed were northerners.

critique: The coup was led by Igbo officers, but it was not the Igbo officers who benefited from the country's government being run by a majority of northern politicians.

critique: The response misses to include the reasons for the coup.

critique: The coup was led by young Igbo officers.

critique: The coup was led by Igbo officers who were angered by the deaths of their colleagues.

critique: The answer doesn't mention that the coup's leader, Aguiyi-Ironsi orchestrated the coup to overthrow the government and establish a military government with himself as supreme commander.

critique: The answer is missing that the Igbo coup was opposed by other senior army officers.

critique: It is omitted that the coup was opposed by other senior army officers.