text:
“ Cap’n Wolfe?”

I reply with a simple “ yes”, snapping out of my daze.

“ You were thinkin’ Of ‘er again weren’t ye?”

“ Who?” I asked, although I knew damn well who.

“ Gracia, of course,” He says in a know it all tone.

“ No, I had something else on my mind,” I lie.

“ Well what’d ya expect? ‘Er bein’ a spanish whore an’ all. She-”

“ She wasn’t a whore!” I sna.

	If it were anyone else, I’d have had them maroooned at the moment, but I’ve known Northey for years. He’s quite crude, doesn’t know when to control his tongue, or for that matter, his mouth in general. The liquor and pork that man consumes could last at least six full winters. Still, I’d trust him more than the finest soldier in the kings bloody navy.

	“ Lawrence, I didn’t mean ta jab ya, I’m just sayin’ it’s over. She’sright dead ‘n’ gone. Nutin’ you could do ta save ‘er.”

	 Northey spoke in his deep, grisly voice. His voice was rough, and he always sounded slightly intoxicated, yet I could always find comfort in his drunken words.

“ It’s my fault she’s dead!” I said solemnly. I lowered my head, and concentrated on my boots.

“ Nothin’ ya could do! The prostitute wife of th infamous Captain Laurence “ the hound” Wolfe? It’s a mircle she made it out of the bloody port to begin with!” Northey argued.

	I didn’t respond. He was right. I may as well have dressed her in a bright red target, and hung her up myself. That just makes me feel worse about the whole situation.

	“ anyways, let’s not tread on the past, eh? I wanted to let you know, James, up in the crows nest spotted a brig a few clicks away,” Northey changed the subject.

	“ And? Our cargo bay’s full. remember that french merchant ship we raided a few weeks back?” I replied, not fully understanding why he’d want me to change the course to gather more loot, which we couldn’t carry.

	“ Ay, I remember. Although, this particular ship happens ta be a royal ship of the Kings navy... Looks quite similar to the one Admiral Harris is in command of.” Northey replies in a somewhat taunting way, luring me to his plan.

	I try my best, but I can’t hold back  a massive grin, stretching across my face. I’d felt a burst of rage rush through my veins like the spark of a flintlock, propelling the small rounf of ammunition hurling through the air at devestating speeds. I also felt an odd, faint, yet slightly offsetting feeling of happiness. I’m no stranger to the harsh terms of death. I’ve seen men caught in cannon fire, brains shot right out of their skulls, from the powerful burst of a musket, and multiple times, seen the cold, hard blade of a cutlass run straight through a mans still beating heart, stopping him before he could realise what he’s experienced. Hell, seen children taken, shot, infront of their own mothers eyes, because their drunken excuse of a father couldn’t pay off his gambling debt. Might as well admit, I’ve done quite a bit of it myself. I’ve managed to completely shake the feeling of seeing a mans eyes widen in shock, his mouth gasping, trying to make out one last thing to say, as theiir skin fades to the color of snow. Death doesn’t fase me. Taking a life means nothing to me anymore. Yet, when Northey informed me who that there is a chance Admiral Harris, the one who publicly hanged my wife was on that ship...
I wanted more than anything to kill him. I knew the pleasure I’d gain from taking his head. I wanted it.

	“ So.. What’s yer plan, Cap’n?” Northey asked. impatiently.

“ We charge his ship.. get on board, and I find Harris... And I mount that bastards head on the mast of this bloody ship,” I said, never taking my eyes off the beautiful red trim of the brig sailing towards us, Either way this ended, it would be for her, Gracia.

title: Cap'n Wolfe.

question: What is the main conflict in the story?

answer: The main conflict is the narrator's desire to avenge his wife's death.

critique: The answer should mention that the man responsible for her death is Admiral Harris.

critique: The answer should mention that the narrator's wife was hanged.

critique: The conflict is the narrator's desire to avenge his wife's death by killing Admiral Harris.

critique: The story does not explicitly state that the conflict is the narrator's desire to avenge his wife's death.

critique: It is omitted that he must face and kill Admiral Harris in the process.

critique: The answer should mention that the narrator's wife was killed by Admiral Harris.

critique: The answer should mention that the narrator is a pirate.

question: What does the story say about the pirate life?

answer: The pirate life is a life of violence and death. The narrator has seen men caught in cannon fire, brains shot out of their skulls, and multiple times, seen the cold, hard blade of a cutlass run straight through a man's still beating heart. The narrator has also seen children taken, shot, in front of their own mothers' eyes. The narrator has done quite a bit of this himself. The pirate life is a life of violence and death.

critique: The answer repeats the same sentence twice.

critique: "The pirate life is a life of violence and death. The narrator has seen men caught in cannon fire, brains shot out of their skulls, and multiple times, seen the cold, hard blade of a cutlass run straight through a man's still beating heart. The narrator has also seen children taken, shot, in front of their own mothers' eyes. The narrator has done quite a bit of this himself. The pirate life is a life of violence and death." - incoherent, repetitive, redundant, and lacks an answer for the question.

critique: This should be stated as what the narrator has seen and not what they have done.

critique: The last sentence is unnecessary and repetitive.

question: What does the story say about Northey?

answer: Northey is one of the pirates on the narrator's ship. He is crude, doesn't know when to control his tongue or mouth, and can't seem to stop drinking. The narrator trusts him more than the finest soldier in the King's bloody navy.

critique: The answer should mention that the narrator trusts him despite his crude nature.

critique: It's omitted that Northey is the one who tells the narrator about the chance to take down Admiral Harris.

critique: The answer should mention that the narrator and Northey have known each other for years.

critique: It's omitted that the narrator and Northey have known each other for years.

critique: It's omitted that Northey is the narrator's friend.

critique: The answer should mention that the narrator trusts him despite his crude behavior.

critique: It omits that he is also Captain Wolfe's oldest friend.


split: train

text:
{i wrote this some time ago. it was meant to be the opening chapter to a story I never finished. If i could get any feedback on this at all, itd be whether or not reading this made you want to read more. Thanks}

Darryl Zimbargo lay in bed with his wife, Jillian. For twenty eight years Darryl had slept in this bed; knees tucked to his chest, back facing toward his spouse. The bedroom had looked much the same for all those years. Same night stand, same television, same rug and even the same bed sheets and pillow cases. The only thing that had ever changed was the addition of a bright red rotary telephone eight years ago.

Jillian often wondered about the phone. After all, during the eight years since Darryl had brought it home, it hadn’t rung once. She knew better than to ask her husband about it, as she knew that he worked for the government on a number of highly classified projects; the nature of which she did not know or dare inquire about. Needless to say, Darryl was sworn to secrecy. Although Jillian sometimes recalled the one time she had asked her husband about the red rotary.

Eight years ago she had won an antique brass plate that was riddled with long, snake-like markings on it at an auction out of town. Upon bringing it home she scrutinized every flat surface of their home in order to find just the right spot for it. Due to her being a bit of a hoarder, literally every place was already inhabited by all of her other antiques, causing Jillian a great deal of discontent. Eventually she resolved to remove the red rotary telephone from their bedroom and place the brass plate in its stead, knowing that there were plenty of other spots for it. Besides, at the time the phone had only been there for two weeks and hadn’t rung once, what use could it be?

That night Darryl came home from an unusually long day at work. Like every other day, he walked in carrying a familiar yet almost alien smell on his clothing, slipped off his Testoni’s, and went to their bedroom to change into his casual wear. As Jillian was setting the pot roast on the table for dinner, Darryl ran into the kitchen with the brass plate in his hand and upon seeing the red rotary on the edge of the sideboard where she had left it, exploded into a fit of rage. He told her to never touch the phone again and threw the plate across the room. He then plugged the phone back into the wall and carried on as if nothing had ever happened. During the twenty years that she had been married to this man, Jillian had never seen her husband blow up like that and hadn’t any time afterward. It scared her.  So much in fact, that she hadn’t spoken a single word of the silent rotary nor even acknowledged its existence since.

She knew nothing of that phone other than that it was clearly very important to Darryl, or maybe more specifically to the people he worked for. That was all she knew and she was content not knowing anything more. What Darryl did at work was his business; who was she to pry into government affairs? The way she saw it, the phone was just another mystery about her husband that she had no interest in solving. If Jillian could simply live out the rest of her days tending to her garden, cleaning the house, making breakfast, lunch and dinner and sleeping silently at the end of each day—she’d be content.

Only on this particular night as the two slept soundly, the silence was broken. Jillian opened her eyes in confusion. It was midnight and there was not a noise to be heard all throughout the house. Except for that beeping. What was that beeping?

Beep
Beep
Beep

She wondered but somehow knew, subconsciously she knew exactly what that noise was. Suddenly Darryl sprung out of bed and snatched the red rotary phone’s receiver faster than she would have ever thought possible for her aging spouse. He brought it to his ear, saying nothing as if waiting for something. Then, permeating through the silence of their bedroom, a voice spoke two words that would echo in her ears for the rest of her life. The words frightened Jillian; she didn’t know why but it frightened her more than she had ever been in her life.

“UT-ZAH 1689”

title: [MS] The Red Rotary

question: What does the story say about the type of person Darryl is.

answer: Darryl is a man who works for the government on a number of highly classified projects. He is a man of few words, who doesn't speak much to his wife, Jillian. He is also a man who is quick to anger, as seen when he exploded in rage when Jillian moved the red rotary telephone.

critique: The answer should mention that Darryl is a man who is quick to anger, as seen when he exploded in rage when Jillian moved the red rotary telephone.

critique: "He is also a man who is quick to anger, as seen when he exploded in rage when Jillian moved the red rotary telephone." - this is inaccurate. He only exploded once when he was angry at Jillian for moving the phone.

question: Summarize the main source of conflict in the story.

answer: The main source of conflict in the story is the red rotary phone. Darryl Zimbargo has had the phone for eight years, and it has never rung. One day, Jillian decides to move the phone to another location in the house. Darryl is furious, and he throws a plate across the room. He then plugs the phone back in and continues as if nothing had happened. Jillian is scared of her husband's reaction, and she never touches the phone again. One night, the phone finally rings, and the two words that are spoken are "UT-ZAH 1689".

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

question: What does the story say about they type of person Jillian is?

answer: Jillian is a quiet, simple-minded woman who is content with her life. She is a hoarder who has collected a lot of antiques that she keeps in her house. She is married to a man who works for the government on highly classified projects, and she knows better than to ask him about it. She seems to be a good and loyal wife who is content with her life and does not pry into her husband's business.

critique: "She is married to a man who works for the government on highly classified projects, and she knows better than to ask him about it." - this is incorrect. Darryl works for the government, not Jillian's husband.

text: "who is content with her life and does not pry into her husband's business" - this is redundant and should be removed.

category: coherence

question: What does the story say about Jillian's job?

answer: No answer

critique: The answer should mention that Jillian is a housewife.

critique: The answer should mention that Jillian doesn't have a job.

critique: The story does not mention anything about Jillian's job.

critique: There is nothing about Jillian's job in the passage.


text:
It’s the kind of thing that you daydream about.  It’s the kind of power to end all others.  It’s what you’d use for bad, because how would you be caught?  It’s what nobody deserves to have, and it’s what nobody should have, yet I have been bestowed with such a so-called “blessing”.  Why would it be me?  I am not worthy of superiority, for I am just a corrupt, feeble human with faults like any other person.  However, because of my capability, I make sure to do only the best of things I can do.  Why should I not use my advantage to bless other people, even if such a slim margin compared to what I have?  I don’t deserve this, and so I want to give back to the people around me.  I want to make their lives better in ways that they will never notice: “random” luck, close calls, and other minute details others would call insignificant.  It’s these little ways that I influence the people around me for the better, and while there is a limit to what I can do, I do the best I can.  Some might consider me a god were they to know, but I would laugh in their face and deny such a misguided praise, for I am not a god.  Nobody knows, and as such I am treated like a normal human being.  I will forevermore keep it that way.  That’s the way I like it and it’s better that way.  Besides, even though there are ways that I could prove it, I doubt people would take my insane words as little more than crazy.

I control time.  Believe this outlandish claim that I spew forth, or not, I affect the flowing of time.  Time is not absolute to me, the one-of-a-kind freak that I am.  I like to pretend that I’ve been entrusted with such a glorious, mind-bending power due to my fantastic heart and my good-will towards others, but I say otherwise.  My power made me the benevolent person that I am today, and it’s through my ability that I attribute my behavior.  Yet even still, it takes care to not stray from the straight and narrow.  The temptation is overwhelming, and it takes every ounce of effort to not use this gift for something less than righteous.

One must, at times, take a step back and have themselves a break from the fast life that they live.  Stress overtakes if they don’t combat it through relaxing and a carefree vacation from hectic schedules, even if unoften.  This is fact, known by many, but practiced by far too few.  Thankfully, it’s easy for me.  I have all the time in the world to take a hike, clear my mind, and enjoy a stunning view of the drudgery, all while preparing myself for everybody else’s next day.  I am an overseer, an overwatcher, a sentinel of those who I find in my circle of friends and family.  It’s hard work, and it’s difficult coping with it, but I can take my time.  I try and monitor as many people as I can, and often take the time to visit those thousands of miles away.  It matters not to me, for as time is at a standstill, my body ages not, and I feel no hunger or thirst for whatever I may do.  These treks give me plenty of time to think, and thinking has become my favorite pass-time.  Thinking has become my escape from the world, because time and time again the world fails me and disrespects what responsibility I try to take as well as I can.  Thinking gives me a cool temper and a level head, and I am constantly striving to perfect it.  At least I have plenty of time to try and focus my thoughts on a better mind, something that I take for granted for often than I fear to admit to myself.

Spending such a long time in so many moments of frozen eternities has given me quite the opportunity to analyze and study the very nature of what power binds my life.  I do not age, hunger, thirst, or feel other symptoms that one might suffer from the sailing of time down a river, towards the eventual waterfall of death.  Unfortunately, I do feel pain, tiredness in the mind and muscles, and injuries do not heal in these episodes, so I must take the greatest of cares to not inflict damage to my body.  As a side effect from all the journeys I embark on, I find that I do strengthen as one would, were they to do the things I do in the trap of time.  This is a blessing as it allows me to prevent any more wounds to my body, though hiding it is the real difficulty.  How does one explain an ability to run for miles, all while seeming to never get out and do much?  It’s a part of me that I want to use, but I fear for the questioning of my habits and daily life.  I cannot form lies in the face of others, and delivering them with sincerity is even more difficult, so I try to live as honestly as possible by avoiding conflict wherever viable.

I question my ability to maintain deep relationships with others.  Is indulging in personal pleasures allowed when I am bestowed with a benevolent ability?  Despite the great lengths I go to conceal it, when within a deeper relation with another what of the possibility of what I possess getting found out?  Lying is not possible for me, and so it’s a risk that I must weigh meticulously.  I believe that as a side effect of my gift, I am bound to a limited degree of intimacy with any given person.  Even so, while some might call a life of loneliness miserable and insufferable, they don’t have the responsibilities that I have nor have they had ages to reflect upon their duty like I have.  Such is the life that I have received, yet I will live it to the end, that much I have decided and accepted.

Anyone who sees me passing by in the crowd would never pick me out as special, and it is that way which I prefer.  I don’t wish to be recognized as someone different, superior, or even inferior.  Though I am far from the same, living with my façade grants me a limited degree of experiencing life as a normal person would.  So many take their ability to *be* for granted, and of that potential to be just like any other person without hidden weight is a potential that I long for.  I long for a pardon from my life of servitude towards others, though I do understand that that is one wish that will never be sanctioned to me.

What I live with will not change and that is a fact I have learned to submit to and to the end I will live to my fullest capacity, lest I fall into decay.   I know my purpose, yet for as long as I exist, always lurking and waiting for the opportune moment is the depravity that longs for me.  This I know is the hardest part of my reality: defying decadence.

title: [MF] Ageless

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

answer: No answer

critique: The text does mention the narrator's family.

text: There is something said about the narrator's family. The narrator says they're a sentinel for their family.

category: accuracy


text:
Damn. Now I really didn't see this happening. Of all the things to happen at this bland school and this is the shit that happens. Wow. I guess I'm getting a bit carried, let me start from the beginning.
          My school, Jefferson Middle School, is rather boring, nothing really exciting happens here except the occasional girl drama that usally goes like, "Brian likes me! Not you, skany hoe!" And ends in a matter of three days. I'm usually quiet, if you were to call me "popular girl," you would be wrong but calling me a "nerd" wouldn't be right either. I was just sort of there. I had my friends and that's all I needed. That's where this story starts. With my friend, Daniel. Daniel was a pretty intresting boy. All acceralted classes, loved video games and comics, and wasn't bad looking at all. Over the first year of middle school, Daniel and I became pretty close. Hanging out after school and learning about eachother. It was pretty nice. Daniel loved life and he wasn't afraid to show it. If he had something to say, oh would he say it, but he was never disrespectful about it. He was always being a gentlemen. People always said shit about him.
         "Oh! Did you hear about Daniel? I heard he was sucking cock in the bathroom!"
         "Daniel the fag!"
         "Daniel should go burn in fucking hell with all the other fags that enjoy buttsex!" Get the trend here? They kept on saying he was gay, over and over. Through messages on Facebook, notes, or even writing on bathroom walls, which is very cliche. There have been times where I have asked if he was gay and I would get the same answer every time.
          "Do you think I am?" Over and over, he never changed it. Daniel was really proud and he felt as if he shouldn't state if he were gay or not and I really admire that about him. 8th grade started and I assumed that the gay jokes would have gotten old by now, but they didn't. They actual got worse. More people started calling him a "fag, dick-sucker," and spreading rumors that I don't even wanna remember. I noticed a change in Daniel, he wasn't as outgoing, didn't speak his mind, became less quite, less proud. I tried helping him, I really did but it never worked. He seemed to just become more depressed. Those kids never noticed either, they just attacked him more and more, getting more ruthless with each insult. This drama was lasting way more than three days and I wasn't sure what would happen. Shit even got worsed.
          That's when I heard the intercom come on one day during class.
       "Students, I am sad to announce that our student, Daniel Rigsbee, has died yesterday." They didn't tell us how he died, but we all knew. He killed himself. The voice of the principal announcing his death was so fucking emotionless, it made it seem as if Daniel was some character in a movie that died. Everyone was silent. I was filled with anger. Those ruthless bastards did this. They didn't know when to stop. The minute the bell rang, I sprinted to his house asking if it was true was they said today. His father simply nodded and beckoned me in. He said that there was a note left in his room directed to me and "bitches." I walked to his room, feeling as if I was going to puke. I found the note, all directed in rainbows, colors, and smiley faces. It made me sick. I opened the note with nervoness and read.
        "Dear Juno and the son of bitches at school. Let me make this clear. I am not fucking gay. I am as straight as the pole your mom dances on. I should not have to tell people this, it's my life and you shouldn't be butting in. Pun intended. You caused this and I hope you feel great. You did it! You've killed me! I'm not gonna say that this wasn't your guys' fault because fuck that. It totally was. I hope you live with that burden that you killed me for your whole life. Juno, I hope you live a great life and don't cry over me, you didn't cause this. You are amazing and don't let people do what they did to me to you. I would punch their neck. (:
                                            Bye,
                                                  Daniel-Not fucking gay-Rigsbee
        What the fuck? That wasn't sad at all. This was the Daniel that I knew. He killed himself because he was done of the shit. I don't think he felt sorry or anything. I don't even know. As I turned to leave, I found something else. It was another note reading, "I hope this was exciting enough for you, Juno. I am a coward. I wasn't gonna deal with this anymore. They didn't win, remerber that. I won. They get to deal with my death. -Daniel"
         Fucking. Daniel.

title: Uhhmm...Well I'm 13 and I would like to be a writer when I get older so here's one of my short stories. Reviews? Be honest.

question: What does the story say about bullying?

answer: The author believes bullies didn't care about Daniel and that their bullying tactics might have made Daniel commit suicide. She believes the bullies are the ones who killed her friend. She points out that the bullies were unrelenting, and the only resolution he could find was to kill himself.

critique: The first sentence is a bit confusing. It would be better to say that the author believes bullies didn't care about Daniel and that their bullying tactics might have made him commit suicide.

question: Summarize the narrator's relationship with Daniel.

answer: Juno and Daniel are best friends and have been since 8th grade. She cares deeply for him. However, she didn't notice the student body's cruelty towards him. She was angry when she heard he committed suicide.

critique: The answer should mention that Daniel is the one who committed suicide.

critique: The narrator's anger at Daniel's death is omitted.

question: Summarize the school's reaction to Daniel's death.

answer: No answer

critique: The answer should mention that the school's reaction was emotionless.

question: What does the story say about the bullies' reaction to Daniel's note?

answer: No answer

critique: The response can include the actual content of the note because it's declared to be public in the story.

critique: The response is incorrect. The story does not say anything about the bullies' reaction to Daniel's note.

critique: The response is not related to the passage.

critique: The answer should mention that the bullies did not react to the note.

critique: The answer should mention that the bullies didn't have a reaction.


text:
Blackness greeted me when I woke. It took me a few more seconds to realize that the darkness was probably attributed to the fact that my eyes were closed. There was no improvement upon opening them, however, and I grew more and more concerned. I seemed to be in a box of some kind. I knew not where I was, or how I had gotten there. After a moment of panic I noticed a gentle soothing sound, almost similar to the sound of water rushing along rocks. I listened to it for a few more seconds, attempting to gain control of my mounting panic.

The control failed and my imagination took over. The sound began to seem more and more like the sound of dirt falling slowly onto a coffin. Was I being buried alive? My body stiffened at the thought. My hands ran over the inside of my box, searching for a way out. I would dig out if I had to. The air seemed to becoming thinner. How long would it be before I suffocated completely? I strained against the walls. I kicked the roof. I scratched the floor. Everything was smooth and metallic in texture except the soft memory-foam like material that I was resting on.

Then, my fingers caught on a depression in the metal, just above my chest. I brought both of my hands up to try and figure out what it was. A click and a soft hissing noise filled my small enclosure as I pushed the button. Light spilled in from the sides, as the lid of what I had thought was my casket began to open automatically. I sat up slowly, blinking away the spots that had showed up in response to the light.

The sight that greeted me was hardly the dark gloomy setting of a cemetery. I seemed to be in a long white hallway. What looked like windows on the walls were made from one-way glass, blocking my view of what was outside of my mysterious hallway. All around me were more of the coffin-shaped boxes, although I could see now that they were very modern in their design. They were made of the same white plastic material that made up the rest of the hallway and each had a gently glowing blue light on the end. Upon closer examination I realized that my light had turned to a harsh red.
I began to try and stand up when a screen suddenly came to life on the wall across from mine and a thin, almost fake-looking woman’s face appeared in the center.

Her voice rang through the halls with a short message: “Hello, and welcome to the future! It is very possible that you are experiencing momentary memory loss. We apologize for the inconvenience, but we assure you that it is only temporary. To help your memory recover, please watch the following film summarizing your own history and that of the others around you. Enjoy!”

The screen flickered and images began to run across the screen of what I assumed were important events in the past. I saw ruined cities, flooded plains, dried-out farms, and homes on fire. A new, gentler voice began to narrate the images.

“In the past, it became clear to us that history was repeating itself over and over again. The same problems were reccurring every few hundred years, sometimes with disastrous consequences. After going through the same types of issues many times, it became obvious that the outcomes of those events were based mainly on the leading people of the nations involved. Environmental problems were best addressed when someone with the correct motivation and personality was able to come out and lead others away from destructive tendencies. Social problems were an enigma to those who did not have an intuitive sense of how to deal with them. Wars were lost without leaders who truly understood the principles or war. That is why we developed a way to keep those types of people in reserve for a rainy day. You are aboard the product of that research right now. You are on the Starship Ares.”

Once the video stopped, all that remained was the strange watery sound that I had heard before. I figured now that it was the sound of some sort of machinery aboard the ship, but it still made me somewhat nervous. I had never been aboard a spaceship that I could remember, no matter what the lady in the television was telling me. Then again, I couldn’t remember much of anything.

I began to try and stand up, but just as I started to move, a door opened at the end of the corridor and an extremely pale man walked through. I tried to rise faster, but found that my legs were almost completely useless. I could barely move them.

“Just a moment, master. I’ll be right there,” said the pale man as he came towards me. “Your leg muscles have atrophied a bit, I imagine. It has been a long time since you were last woken.”

I didn’t respond, but stared warily at the stranger. He seemed to know me, and yet his face was not familiar. He came up to the side of my box and knelt beside it. He was very tall, and even on his knees he towered over me. He wore a flowing robe of white, with four separate pockets sewed in to the sides. Out of one he pulled what looked like a gun. I strained my legs in trying to rise and defend myself, but he pushed me gently back down onto the foam beneath me.

“Relax, master. It will help you to move your legs and the rest of your body. It is a drug that will stimulate growth in your muscles. You have been in one position for a very long time, and though the ship has done its best to care for you, there are some side-effects. This will counter them.”
Realizing that I didn’t have much of a choice, I relaxed my body back down and allowed him to inject me with whatever it was. He applied it to each separate major muscle in my legs, and I could feel a cool soothing feeling travelling up my legs. I found I could move my toes and eventually I was able to shift my legs. He continued with the same process around the rest of my body. I had been very sore initially, and this brought great relief.

“Who are you?” I asked. “What am I doing here?”

He looked at me with an almost bemused look. His face was long and his eyes were an almost luminous blue. He had no hair or eyebrows, and when he opened his mouth, I could see that it was almost black. Even with this somewhat alarming combination of facial features, he had a kind face.

“I am hurt, master. You do not remember me? I have served by your side for many years, and in many battles. I am Frederick, but you usually call me Fred unless you are angry at me,” he said, smiling. “As for what you are doing here, the video explained that. You are here to save the world,” he continued, before saying finally, “again.”

title: A friend of mine wrote this in two parts for a weekly class writing assignment. Help me convince him to continue it.

question: Summarize how the main character changes over the story.

answer: The main character wakes up in a box, not knowing how they got there or where they are. They panic and begin to attempt to escape from the box. A screen comes to life and a voice explains that they are in the future. They are on a ship with many other boxes. They are woken and find that their muscles have atrophied. They are unable to move and an alien comes to inject them with a drug that restores their muscles. The alien explains that the main character is there to save the world again.

critique: Doesn't mention that they get visited by their old friend and loyal servant Fred, who wakes them.

critique: The answer omits the main character's interaction with the alien.

critique: The answer omits the main character's conversation with Fred, the alien.

critique: The answer should mention that the main character is woken by a man named Fred.

critique: The answer should mention that the main character is on a spaceship.

critique: The answer omits the main character's interaction with Fred.

critique: The answer omits the main character's reaction to the video and to the alien.

question: What does the story say about the past?

answer: The narrator wakes up in a coffin-shaped box and hears a video about the past. The narrator sees ruined cities, flooded plains, dried-out farms, and homes on fire. The narrator also sees a video about how the past was the same problems repeating itself over and over again. The narrator learns that the past was a time when the world was in chaos.

critique: The response should include that the narrator learns that the past was a time when the world was in chaos and the people who were best suited to deal with certain issues were put in a state of suspended animation.

critique: The response inaccurately mentions that the narrator sees a video about how the past was the same problems repeating itself over and over again. The narrator actually sees a video about the past.

critique: The content related to the video is convoluted.

critique: The response inaccurately mentions that the narrator sees a video about how the past was the same problems repeating itself over and over again. However, the narrator sees a video about how history was repeating itself over and over again.

critique: The narrator learns that the past was a time when the world was in chaos.

critique: The narrator is not in a coffin-shaped box.

critique: The narrator doesn't see the video about the past, but hears it.

critique: The narrator learns that the past was a time when the world was in chaos. - this is incorrect. The narrator learns that the past was a time when the world was on the brink of disaster.

question: Summarize Frederick's role in the story.

answer: Frederick is in service to the narrator/master. He tells the narrator that he has been sleeping for many years, and that he is needed to save the world again. Frederick seems to be on board the Spaceship Ares, and serves as narrator's caretaker. He builds up young master's muscles, which have atrophied while the narrator was sleeping.

critique: The answer should mention that Frederick is the narrator's servant.

question: Summarize the construction of the Starship Ares.

answer: While there is no specific information about the construction being given in the story, the author implies that the starship was invented for the purpose of combating the same problems: wars, environmentalism, and central enabling figures. The ship is designed to keep people trapped until it's absolutely necessary. The cold robotic nature of the ship is foreboding, from the naming convention alone, but it appears to run smoothly with the exception of the tubes that connect to the sleepers.

critique: The response contains inaccurate information.

critique: Almost all of the specific details about the construction of the ship, as relayed by the narrator, are missing. They should be added to bring the answer up to par.


text:
FRONTLINE SUPPORT

Marine Corps Veteran, and FDNY first responder; Christian Zamora, discusses his dual roles on the frontline as an Emergency Medical Technician, and VRL member supplying PPE to essential personnel at the epicenter of the COVID-19 Pandemic, in New York City.

[Registered veterans nonprofit organization in New York City, founded 2011]

WHO WE ARE

Veterans Rebuilding Life is a registered nonprofit focused on providing support services to veterans and children that were harmed in the crossfire of war. Instead of replicating services already available, VRL targets areas that lack support, and provides alternative solutions that have a proven record of success.

These solutions are implemented by volunteers from all walks of life. We are soldiers, social workers, firefighters, and first-responders. Click below to learn more:

[Veterans Rebuilding Life is comprised of veterans from all branches of service, cultures, and creed.]

WHAT WE DO

VRL provides evidence based, holistic solutions through: Project 360º. The program is derived from empirical analysis of the combat experiences shared by veterans suffering from chronic PTSD. This data established the basis for extensive clinical research on the efficacy of holistic integration as an effective treatment alternative for PTSD.

Project 360º participants are paired with a fellow vet and mentor who is trained to implement holistic treatment modalities. This unique combination of military experience and professional training, allows participants to establish trust with their mentor, so together, they can set tangible goals, and achieve measurable outcomes.

[Seen centered is VRL supporter: Jim Nekos, of Edge Technologies, accompanied by the VRL Vixens, and the US Marines.]

HOW WE DO IT

To ensure the integrity of the mission remains intact, Veterans Rebuilding Life does not accept financial support from Government agencies, or special-interest groups. Our volunteer members carry out a mission that’s made possible through the continued support of our donors:

[Centered: VRL Director Marikay Satryano accompanied by the NYPD Community Affairs Division.]

MEASURED RESULTS

This year alone, Veterans Rebuilding Life successfully conducted more than 400 humanitarian missions, resulting in the provision of over 1,840 support services, all at no-cost to those we serve. Click the links below to learn more:

Helping families facing hardship in quarantine

VRL volunteers mobilized to deliver healthy meals to local families suffering hardships in quarantine. VRL collaborated with local organizations including Hello Fresh, who donated food supplies, packaged by volunteers from the Division of Veteran Services.

VRL transported the donated meals to the Salvation Army Astoria Corps, who distributed them to local families in need. Each meal contains fresh ingredients, organic produce. The humanitarian initiative is part of the ongoing mission VRL feeds NYC.

[Manhattan Veterans Affairs Hospital received 950 medical face shields and 2,000 pairs of latex gloves.]

Supplying PPE to essential workers

In response to essential workers critical need for Personal Protective Equipment, Veterans Rebuilding Life partnered with 3D Brooklyn, a locally-owned, small business focused on 3D printing technology, in order to develop-and-deliver medical face shields to essential personnel on the frontline of the COVID-19 pandemic. VRL members volunteered to transport the Brooklyn-made PPE to emergency personnel across the tristate area, including:

-   _NY Harbor Healthcare System_
-   _Dept. of Veterans Affairs Hospitals_
-   _North Amityville Fire Company_
-   _NYPD Community Affairs Outreach Division_
-   _FDNY Emergency Medical Services_
-   _Ryker’s Island Dept. of Corrections_

-   _Salvation Army Astoria Corps_
-   _Queens Community Centers_
-   _Nassau Inter-County Bus Services_
-   _FDNY Bronx Borough Command_
-   _Pedestrian Traffic Mgmt. Staff_
-   _Veterans of Foreign Wars Post 9592_

[VA Hospital Nurses on the frontline, wearing medical face shields donated by Veterans Rebuilding Life]

The following donors helped save essential lives on the frontline:

Louis Thorne

Genny Popow

Tyler Bitterman
Laura Barbieri
Kaya Ceci
Lou Costa
Ana Marie Cruz
Paula Damasceno
Kelly Davis
Desiree Delia
Allen DeWitt
Rosalie Dudek
Paul Englert
Kristy Englert
Ellis Eisner
Virginia Frazzitta
Lauren Forbes
David Forbes

Frontstream

Fidelity Charitable

Matvei Brodski

Bill Russo
Lisa Redmond
Tom Deirlien

Kerry Gallager
Stephan Ginochio
Joe Goldsmith
Ysette Guevara
Shanice Harris
Chris Hancock
George Hlynsky
David Hornback
Dana Humphrey
Deb Kaplan
Jaclyn Kiernan
Gerald Koval
John Koval
Charles Kramer

Rubin Frost Trust

Marlene Marban
Quincy Krull
Nick Yagoda

Felicia Raidl
Natasha Ryder
Jason Sagebiel
Marikay Medina
Zoe Scurletis
Joshua Seidman
Jen Sherman
Mike Sherman
Persis Sopariwala
David Swift
Regina Thorne
Chris Valencia

Kevin Vargas-colon
Claudyne Vielot
Lindsay Walker

Enterprise Rentals

Jim Nekos
Joe Quadara
Jissel Ravelo
Mini Zhang

Nicole Kung
Kayla Krstyen
Mehron Kugler
Maeve Lenahan
Tashi Lhamu
Sasha Lynn
Saury Martinez
Irwin Medina
Jocelyn Mendez
Kyle Moored
Brian O’Conachtaigh
Jeff Pedersen
Jenna Pereg
Kathy Plumhoff

National Grid
VERG Program

RECORD OF INTEGRITY

Veterans Rebuilding Life is the only registered nonprofit organization in the U.S. to commit 100% of all donations directly toward the humanitarian mission. No profit is made by the all-volunteer staff. Even basic operating expenses are paid for by VRL’s board of directors, to ensure our donors that every contribution counts:

question: What does the text say about pursuing a career in the military?

answer: No answer

critique: The passage does not discuss careers in the military.

critique: The text does not discuss pursuing a career in the military.

critique: Because this answer is "no answer", it doesn't help readers understand the question, so it's best to brainstorm appropriate answers.

critique: The text does not say anything about pursuing a career in the military.

question: What does the text say about Veterans Rebuilding Life?

answer: Veterans Rebuilding Life (VRL) is a registered veterans non-profit focused on providing support services to veterans and children harmed in the crossfire of war. VRL targets areas that lack support and provides alternative solutions that have a proven record of success.

critique: The answer should mention what VRL does.

critique: The answer could mention some of those solutions.

critique: The answer should mention VRL's mission.

critique: Measures results, not just support services.

critique: The answer could mention some of the solutions VRL provides.

critique: The answer should mention the services VRL provides.

question: What does the text say about Project 360º?

answer: Veterans Rebuilding Life (VRL) focuses on providing support services to veterans and their children who are are harmed in the crossfire of war. Project 360º is derived from empirical analysis on combat experiences and holistic treatment modalities. Participants in Project 360º are paired with a fellow veteran and mentor who is trained to implement holistic treatment modalities. This combination has proven to be helpful in achieving measurable outcomes.

critique: Project 360º is not part of VRL's history, only a service it provides.

critique: The answer omits how Project 360º is conducted.

critique: The answer does not mention VRL's mission.

critique: The answer omits that Project 360º is a holistic treatment for chronic PTSD.

critique: The text doesn't say anything about Project 360º being derived from empirical analysis on combat experiences.

critique: The answer should mention the program's goals.

question: What does the text say about how the VRL helped families in quarantine?

answer: In response to the need for more aid for quarantined families, VRL mobilized with other organizations like Hello Fresh to package and deliver donated food supplies. The volunteers transported the supplies to the Salvation Army who distributed them to families in need. Each meal box contains fresh ingredients, oxonic produce.

critique: The donated food boxes are not oxonic produce

critique: The response is missing several important details about VRL and families in quarantine.

critique: The answer should mention the face shields.


text:
_'Edmund (or EDMOND) Meyrick_' (or MEYRICKE) (1636 – 24 April 1713) was a Welsh cleric and benefactor of Jesus College, Oxford, where scholarships are still awarded in his name. He is a member of the Meyrick family.

Life

Meyrick was born at Garthlwyd, Llandderfel (near Bala, Merionethshire) and christened in Llandderfel on 11 June 1636. He attended four schools, including one year at Ruthin School, before matriculating at Jesus College, Oxford in 1656. He was elected to a scholarship in 1658 and obtained his BA degree in 1659.[1] He was ordained both deacon and priest by Robert Skinner, Bishop of Oxford, on 30 August 1660 in the chapel of New College, Oxford.[2] In 1662, he was elected to a probationary Fellowship of the college, but married in 1663 and became ineligible for a full fellowship. He became vicar of Eynsham on 10 August 1663.[3] He was chaplain to Richard, Earl of Carbery — the Meyricks and the Carberys being related – and this connection led to Meyrick's appointment to a number of lucrative positions in West Wales.[4] Meyrick became vicar of Llangathen in 1665, vicar of Llanegwad and a Canon of St David's Cathedral in 1667, rector of Burton, Pembrokeshire in 1670, treasurer of St David's in 1690 and rector of Penboyr in 1713. He was also a canon of Christ College, Brecon and vicar of Carmarthen; he held many of these positions at the same time. He died in Carmarthen, where he was then living, on 24 April 1713, and was buried in St Peter's Church; a memorial to him was placed on the north wall of the chancel.[5]

Bequests

Meyrick's wife and only child had predeceased him, enabling a more generous disposition of his assets.[6] He had extensive property interests, in both North and South Wales. The family seat was in Ucheldre, Gwyddelwern, Merionethshire and Meyrick also owned several houses in Carmarthen.[7] In 1708, he set up a charity school in Carmarthen but for some reason directed in his will that the school and master should be moved to Bala, where it became the Bala Grammar School.[8] The will provided for an annual payment of £15 to the schoolmaster together with the use of the schoolhouse, and £15 per year for clothing for the students.[9]

His will, dated 25 March 1712, said: He left family property in Denbighshire and Merionethshire, as well as his Carmarthen property after expiration of some life interests, to the college to provide six scholarships of £10 and six exhibitions of £8. The scholarships and exhibitions were to be awarded to Jesus College students from North Wales, until they obtained their Master of Arts degree or were receiving more than £40 per year from a parish appointment. Any surplus was to be used to buy advowsons so that the College might present one of the scholars (or in default of a suitable scholar, a Meyrick exhibitioner or a North Wales fellow of the College) to a parish position.[10] Whilst the estate produced a surplus, only one living was purchased by the trustees, that of the rectory of Llandow in 1735. Further increases in the surplus led to an increase in payments to Bala School and to the scholars and exhibitioners, and to the purchase of other property in Cheltenham and Carmarthen.[11][12] This proved to be a profitable investment since, by 1840, the college had received more than £10,000 through the sale of trust land near Cheltenham for railway purposes. Payments to Bala School ended in 1862, when the annual payments were commuted for a lump-sum payment of £5,333.[13]

Meyrick scholarships and exhibitions are still awarded to students at Jesus College, based on academic merit. Students performing consistently at a first-class standard during the year in the opinion of their tutors may be awarded a Meyrick scholarship, with consistent performance at upper second to first-class standard potentially leading to the award of a Meyrick exhibition.[14] The restriction in Meyrick's bequest that the scholarships were for students from North Wales only was relaxed in 1857 to cover students from all of Wales and Monmouthshire.[15][16] The restrictions have been further relaxed and students who were not born in Wales are also now eligible for a Meyrick scholarship or exhibition if they are the child of a native of Wales, are able to speak Welsh or they were educated for the last three years of secondary school in Wales.[17]

[1]

[2]

[3]

[4]

[5]

[6]

[7]

[8]

[9]

[10]

[11]

[12]

[13] Baker, p. 62

[14]

[15]

[16] Hardy, p. 197

[17]

title: Edmund Meyrick

question: Describe Meyrick's relationship to Wales.

answer: He appears to have had strong ties to Wales. He attended schools there, was a clergyman there, and owned a house there.

critique: He is buried in Wales, which may be more indicative of the strength of the relationship to Wales.

critique: It is omitted that he was also a member of the Meyrick family.

critique: "He appears to have had strong ties to Wales" is not a very specific answer to the question. It would be better to rewrite the answer completely.

critique: Meyrick had extensive property interests in North and South Wales.

critique: He also held several positions in West Wales.

critique: The response misses to mention that he was also a benefactor of Jesus College, Oxford, where scholarships are still awarded in his name.

critique: It would help if it is stated that Meyrick was a clergyman based in West Wales.

critique: It should be pointed out that his most lucrative connections were in West Wales, not all of Wales

critique: Meyrick also received many lucrative positions in West Wales.

critique: He also seems to have had an extensive property portfolio in Wales.

critique: This is an accurate fact, but it does not show the extent of Meyrick's relationship to Wales.

critique: Meyrick was a clergyman in Wales, but the answer should mention that he was also a benefactor of Jesus College, Oxford.

critique: The response misses to mention that Meyrick was a Welsh cleric and benefactor of Jesus College, Oxford, where scholarships are still awarded in his name.

question: When did Meyrick live?

answer: 1636 to 1713

critique: The answer could be phrased as a complete sentence.

critique: The answer should give the dates in a proper format.

critique: He died in 1713, but this doesn't mean that he was born in 1636.

critique: The answer should be written in a full sentence.

critique: Include the month and year of Meyrick's death in the answer.

critique: It is omitted that he was born in 1636 and died in 1713.


text:
NORRIS JONES, better known as SIRONE (September 28, 1940[1] – October 21, 2009)[2] was an American jazz bassist and composer.

Biography

Born in Atlanta, Georgia,[3] Sirone worked in Atlanta late in the 1950s and early in the 1960s with “The Group” alongside George Adams; he also recorded with R&B musicians such as Sam Cooke and Smokey Robinson.[4] In 1966, in response to a call from Marion Brown, he moved to New York City,[5] where he co-founded the “Untraditional Jazz Improvisational Team” with Dave Burrell.[6] He also worked with Brown, Gato Barbieri, Pharoah Sanders, Noah Howard, Sonny Sharrock, Sunny Murray, Albert Ayler, Archie Shepp, and Sun Ra,[7] as well as with John Coltrane when he was near the end of his career.[8]

He co-founded the Revolutionary Ensemble with Leroy Jenkins and Frank Clayton in 1971; Jerome Cooper later replaced Clayton in the ensemble, which was active for much of the decade.[9] In the 1970s and early 1980s Sirone recorded with Clifford Thornton, Roswell Rudd, Dewey Redman, Cecil Taylor, and Walt Dickerson.[10]

In the 1980s, he was member of Phalanx, a group with guitarist James “Blood” Ulmer, drummer Rashied Ali, and tenor saxophonist George Adams.

From 1989 he lived in Berlin, Germany where he was active with his group 'Concord' (with Ben Abarbanel-Wolff and Ulli Bartel.) He was involved in theater, film, and was a practicing Buddhist.

He died on October 21, 2009.[11]

Discography

As leader or co-leader

-   1978: _Artistry_ (Of The Cosmos) with James Newton, Don Moye, Muneer Bernard Fennell[12]
-   1982: _Life Rays_ (Soul Note) with Walt Dickerson/Andrew Cyrille'''
-   2003: _Sirone's Concord_ (Not Two Records)
-   2005: _Live_ (Atavistic Records)
-   2005: _Configuration_ (Silkheart Records) with Billy Bang

WITH THE REVOLUTIONARY ENSEMBLE

-   1972: _Vietnam_ (ESP-Disk)
-   1972: _Manhattan Cycles_ (India Navigation)
-   1975: _The Psyche_ (Mutable Music)
-   1976: _The Peoples Republic_ (A&M/Horizon)
-   1977: _Revolutionary Ensemble_ (Enja)
-   2004: _And Now..._ (Pi Recordings)
-   2008: _Beyond the Boundary of Time_ (Mutable)
-   2013: _Counterparts_ (Mutable)

WITH SABIR MATEEN AND ANDREW BARKER

-   2013: _Infinite Flowers_ (Sagittarius A-Star)

WITH OLUYEMI THOMAS AND MICHAEL WIMBERLY

-   2010: _Beneath Tones Floor_ (NoBusiness Records)

As sideman

WITH GEORGE ADAMS

-   1989: _Nightingale_ (Blue Note)

WITH THE ALL EAR TRIO (JOHN TCHICAI, THOMAS AGERGAARD, AND PETER OLE JORGENSEN)

-   2008: _Boiler_ (Ninth World Music)

WITH ALBERT AYLER

-   2004: _Holy Ghost: Rare & Unissued Recordings (1962–70)_ (Revenant)

WITH BILLY BANG

-   1988: _Valve No. 10_ (Soul Note)

WITH GATO BARBIERI

-   1967: _In Search of the Mystery_ (ESP-Disk)

WITH DANE BELANY

-   1975: _Motivations_ (Sahara Records)

WITH MARION BROWN

-   1966: _Why Not?_ (ESP-Disk)
-   1966: _Three for Shepp_ (Impulse!)

WITH DAVE BURRELL

-   1968: _High Won-High Two_ (Black Lion)

WITH WALT DICKERSON

-   1982: _Life Rays_ (Soul Note)

WITH ZUSAAN KALI FASTEAU

-   2004: _Making Waves_ (Flying Note)

WITH CHARLES GAYLE

-   1988: _Always Born_ (Silkheart)
-   1988: _Homeless_ (Silkheart)
-   1988: _Spirits Before_ (Silkheart)
-   2003: _Shout!_ (Cleanfeed)

WITH NOAH HOWARD

-   1966: _At Judson Hall_ (ESP-Disk)
-   1969: _The Black Ark_ (Freedom)

WITH THE JAZZ COMPOSER'S ORCHESTRA

-   1973: _Numatik Swing Band_ (JCOA)
-   1975: _For Players Only_ with Leroy Jenkins (JCOA)

WITH WILLIAM PARKER

-   2006: _Requiem_ (Splasc(H)) – with Charles Gayle

WITH PHALANX

-   1987: _Original Phalanx_ (DIW Records)
-   1988: _In Touch_ (DIW Records)

WITH DEWEY REDMAN

-   1973: _The Ear of the Behearer_ (Impulse!)
-   1974: _Coincide_ (Impulse!)

WITH PHAROAH SANDERS

-   1969: _Izipho Zam (My Gifts)_ (Strata-East)

WITH SONNY SHARROCK

-   1969: _Black Woman_ (Vortex)

WITH CECIL TAYLOR

-   1974: _Spring of Two Blue J's_ (Unit Core)
-   1978: _One Too Many Salty Swift and Not Goodbye_ (hat Hut)
-   1978: _Live in the Black Forest_ (MPS)
-   1978: _3 Phasis_ (New World)
-   1978: _Cecil Taylor Unit_ (New World)
-   1993: _Always a Pleasure_ (FMP)

WITH CLIFFORD THORNTON

-   1972: _Communications Network_ (Third World)

Filmography

-   2008: _Teak Leaves at The Temple_ by Garin Nugroho

[1] [ Sirone Allmusic]

[2]

[3] John Fordham Obituary, _The Guardian_, 9 November 2009

[4]

[5]

[6]

[7]

[8]

[9]

[10]

[11]

[12]

title: Sirone (musician)

question: Summarize Sirone's career during the 1960s.

answer: He worked with the group alongside George Adams late in the 1950s and early in the 1960s. He recorded with R&B musicians Sam Cooke and Smokey Robinson. He moved to New York City in 1966 and co-founded the "Untraditional Jazz Improvisational Team" with Dave Burrell. He worked alongside Brown, Gato Barbieri, Pharoah Sanders, Noah Howard, Sonny Sharrock, Sunny Murray, Albert Ayler, Archie Shepp, and Sun Ra, as well as John Coltrane when he was near the end of his career.

critique: "late in the 1950s and early in the 1960s" - this is inaccurate. Sirone worked in Atlanta during the late 1950s and early 1960s.

critique: It's omitted that Sirone worked with Clifford Thornton, and Roswell Rudd, Dewey Redman, Cecil Taylor, and Walt Dickerson in the 1970s and early 1980s.

critique: The co-founding of his jazz trio is unnecessary for the question.

critique: The answer should mention his work with the Revolutionary Ensemble.

critique: Remove the sentence about John Coltrane.

critique: The last two sentences are irrelevant to the question.

critique: The answer omits Sirone's work with Marion Brown.

question: What does the article say about Sirone's personal life?

answer: No answer

critique: The answer should mention that Sirone was a practicing Buddhist.

critique: The article does mention Sirone's personal life.

critique: The article provides some information about Sirone's personal life.

critique: The answer should mention Sirone's death.

critique: The model should consider writing a response in its own words to pass this task.


text:
is a 1977 Japanese animated television series produced by Nippon Animation.

Plot

The first scene opens with a letter of arrival from Sherlock Holmes' niece, Angie Islington, a young 12-year-old noble girl who loves to investigate cases. One day, she stumbles upon a case of robbery which involves the Queen of The United Kingdom's ring that had gone missing during a garden party. Rewarded with a new title of honorary detective and a pendant an emblem of recognition, she embarks on an adventure. She is assisted by Inspector Jackson, a detective of the Scotland Yard, his dashing assistant Michael, and Angie's best friend Franck. They are going to settle numerous problems and bring peace back into the town.

Settings

Originally planned by Takahara Planning to have a story of a Gypsy girl travelling across Spain looking for her mother, with unbeknown reason transformed into a British detective drama. [1] Set in the 19th century of London, the whole city has an old rustic vibe, yet still appears to be modern. Landmarks one of such is the Big Ben is present in the story giving an insight of the foreign world of English history.

Inspector Jackson is never fond of Angie as he constantly feel threatened by the fact that the 12-year-old girl is much sharper and intelligent, eventually taking his spotlight away from him. Throughout the whole series, Angie has difficulty in gaining trust on adults whom she just met. That thought of doubt however, vanished as soon as they saw the pendant that the Queen awarded to Angie for claiming her lost ring. The pendant has an inscription behind it written “Protect Charlotte in my name; Victoria Queen of England”. Which tells anyone who are brave enough go against her will have to address to the Queen themselves.

Publications

The screening of the series was spread throughout Europe and the Arabs. During the 1980s, the release of Sherlock & Me from Portland Films in the UK and The Casebook of Charlotte Holmes in the U.S. Charlotte Holmes is an animation-only version made by Mexican TV, dubbed in Spanish. In America however, it was edited strangely, by using a real-life clip of Sherlock Holmes and his assistant Doctor Watson, indirectly introducing Angie as his niece through a letter.

In 1982, it was broadcast and dubbed in Italy.

Two years after the first release at the UK market, Charlotte made a second display as a “Bonus Cartoon” on Ringo Goes West, a Mountain Video's production. It is an English dub of Toei's Three Musketeers in Boots.

Angie's activities was last seen at France. In 1990 it was aired on French TV, a total amount of ten years after her debut in most other parts of Europe and thirteen years since she was produced in Japan.

Cast

-   Keiko Han as Angie
-   Hiroko Kikuchi as Poppins
-   Ichirō Nagai as Jackson
-   Kaneta Kimotsuki as Benjamin
-   Kazuyuki Sogabe as Michael
-   Miyoko Asou as Barbara
-   Seiko Nakano as Frank
-   Takeshi Aono as Roger
-   Tetsuo Mizutori as Alfred
-   Toku Nishio as Jimmy
-   Yōko Asagami as Helen
-   Yūji Fujishiro as Hirari

Broadcast

_Angie Girl_ aired on ABC from 13 December 1977 to 27 June 1978.

Some episodes of _Angie Girl_ were released in the United States as part of _The Casebook of Charlotte Holmes_.[2] The stories were framed by live-action segments featuring actors Michael Evans and Bernard Fox playing the roles of Sherlock Holmes and John Watson.[3]

[1]

[2]

[3]

title: Angie Girl

question: What does the text say about the challenges Angie faces and how she solves them?

answer: A 12-year-old girl named Angie is tasked with recovering a missing Queen of the United Kingdom's ring. The ring was stolen by an unknown person from an undisclosed location. Angie is to assist Inspector Jackson and his assistant Michael, as well as her best friend Franck. Jackson is jealous of how intelligent and sharp she is, causing him to not trust Angie with the investigation. Angie is able to gain the trust of the adults by working hard and staying focused on the case.

critique: It's not made clear in the text that the ring was stolen by an unknown person.

critique: The answer is incorrect in almost every detail.

text: There are a number of inaccuracies, for example that recovering the Queen's ring is just the first of numerous challenges, or that Angie is assisted by Jackson, Michael and Franck rather than the other way around, or that Angie struggles to gain the trust of adults until they see the Queen's pendant Angie was awarded.

question: What does the text say about Sherlock Holmes' exploits?

answer: Sherlock Holmes' niece, Angie Islington, a 12-year old girl, solves cases in the show. It is different from what it says in the article because the original story was a Gypsy girl traveling to Spain. It is then changed and it enters into the British detective mystery genre.

critique: The answer is not related to Sherlock Holmes' exploits.

text: There is very limited mention of Sherlock Holmes' exploits as the article concerns a TV series about a character who is Holmes' niece. However it is mentioned that in 'The Casebook of Charlotte Holmes', Sherlock Holmes and Doctor Watson are seen introducing Angie as Holmes' niece.

category: coverage


text:
John MacAndrew bent to the ground, picking up the last piece of wood, he placed it with the others.  John's wife sent him out to the woods to find firewood for the night.

On his way back to the farm, John noticed three men in the woods, traveling down an animal made path.  John was expecting them.  Reivers who were sent out to find John and kill him.  Reivers were raiders along the Scottish/English border consisting of both nationalities.  John had earlier joined forces with the Ross clan who where pursuing a group of reivers who had stolen the cattle of the Ross Clan.  John was one archer of supreme skill and made a name for himself killing reivers with his bow.  At the end of the pursuit, John pulled out his bow and struck the Chief reiver in the eye.

As the men walked down the path they noticed a young man carrying a bundle of wood.  The young man was not a tall one, actually he was rather short in stature, and seemed to have trouble carrying the wood as he stumbled and dropped one piece after another.
"You there boy," the reiver said.  "Do you know a John MacAndrew?"
"I know him," John said.  "I'm the servant."
"I need you to show us where he lives."
"Not sure if I can do that, he doesn't like visitors."
What a surprise, thought the reivers.  John MacAndrew was known for his run-ins with border raiders and was constantly in danger from one seeking a vendetta.
"Tell you what," one of the reivers said.  "I will give you two shillings if you bring us to MacAndrew."
"Two shillings? I guess I could take you to his house."
They followed the boy up the path to a small farm and up to the farm house.  The house was not much to look at, at most it looked like it held two rooms.  Outside the house was an old oak tree, it looked as if it been there for centuries.

Claire MacAndrew placed the last log into the fireplace.  She sat at the large table at the center of the room, the table itself almost took up the entire room, leaving little space to walk.  Where is he?  John should be home by now, thought Claire.  It was a cold night and the fire would not last much longer.  There was a knock on the door.  Claire got up from her seat and opened the small wooden door.  Standing outside was her husband and three large men.  John took off his hat and held it with both hands.
"Excuse me Ms,"  John said.  "Is your husband around?"
"He ran off about an hour ago, but he should be around here somewhere."
Claire and her husband had many encounters with reivers.  She knew all about the dangers that seemed to follow John wherever he went.  Once again she would have to help John escape his troubles.  Where would he be without me?  Dead, perhaps, thought Claire.
"Would you like to come in?"
"Do you have food?" said one of the reivers.
"We always have food for guests, please sit down."
The reivers one by one walk in and sat down at the table.  John also walked it with his hat still in hand as he stood patently by the door.
"Samuel,"  Claire turned to John.  "Go fetch the master,  I think he went to check on the cows."
"Yes Ms."
With a smile John put his hat back on and ran out the door, closing the door behind him.

Once outside, John made his way to the barn located behind the house.  The barn was where the MacAndrew's kept farm equipment and newly slaughtered animals.  Inside there was a newly killed cow.  John placed the cow on his shoulder and carried it back to the house.  Placing the cow against the door, with the flesh side up, made it more of a challenge to open the door from the inside.  John turned around to face the old oak tree.  My favorite tree, thought John as he started to climb.  About six meters up, John reached into a hollow crevice within the tree.  He pulled out a bow and a quiver with a supply of arrows.

Placing three cups on the table, Claire poured water for each of the three men at the table.
"I thought you had food."
"I'm bringing you food, I thought you would want some water first."
At the far end of the house Claire opened the pantry where she stored a small provision of food.  She gathered a arm full of small whole wheel size of cheese.
"I hope you all like cheese."
"Cheese?" said one man.  "She has cheese!"
"A whole wheel of cheese." Claire said.  She made her way over to the men, still seated, eagerly awaiting the first meal in half a day of travel.  While walking to the reivers she slipped and fell onto the newly swept dirt floor.  The balls of cheese bounced and rolled away from her in every direction.  The three men all in a hurry flew from their seats and dived for the cheese, fighting each other for the food.  As if they where rodents, desperate for food, crammed the food into their own mouths as if there was no time to chew.  Suddenly the room was filled with the cry of the young man.
"MacAndrew is coming!"  the boy yelled.  "John MacAndrew is on his way!"
The men struggled to get to their feet.  One choked as he tried to spit a large piece of cheese from his mouth.  They rushed for the door, but there was something pressing against the small wooden door, slowing their escape.

John watched as if someone was struggling to open the door.  The fresh cow carcass was doing what he wished.  John pulled out an arrow from his quiver.  Pulled back on his bow, aimed at the door and waited.  The door slowly by little budged open more and more.  A large jut finally flew the door open as the carcass fell in front of the door with the skinned side facing upwards.  The first of the reivers rushed out.  He slipped on the skinned carcass and landed on his back.  John released his first arrow.  The arrow struck the man in the neck entering from the lower part of the neck and traveled upwards towards the skull.  Reiver number two emerged from the farm house, sword in hand.  He looked around, as if he was scanning his surroundings.  John released his second arrow.  The reiver looked upwards towards the oak tree.  The arrow struck the man in the head, killing him instantly.  The third and final reiver staggered out, still choking on his piece of cheese roll, sword in hand.  The third arrow left John MacAndrew's bow.  Striking the man in the spleen.  The man fell as he screamed in agony.  John released a fourth arrow.  Hitting the man in the stomach, followed by a fifth arrow to the chest.

John placed his quiver of arrows and bow back into the crevice of the old oak tree.  As the climbed back down his wife came out to see what had happened.
"You know they will send more men to find you."
"Let them come,"  John said.  "They are not the first, and they will not be the last raiders I kill."
"Don't you think it would be wise to move north?"  Claire said.  "I mean--away from the border, away from the cattle raiders?"
"Why?  John asked.  "This is our home.  If they want to steal my cattle and my way of living they will have to get past me first.  I'm not going to be chased away from my home."
"I'm just not sure how many times I can get you out of trouble John."
"Don't worry, I'm the best archer this place has ever seen.  I'm not going anywhere soon."

title: John MacAndrew and the Reivers

question: What does the story say about why John disguised himself as someone else when he encountered the reivers in the woods?

answer: The reivers were sent to find John and kill him, so he wanted to be sure they don't see him or run into him. He claimed he was a servant and took the reivers to his farm, where his wife Claire helped him in his plan. John pretended he went to check on their cows, but was actually killing their recently-slaughtered cow against their door to make entry harder, while positioning himself high up in their favorite tree. He also took out his bow and arrows, ready to fire at the reivers.

critique: "He claimed he was a servant and took the reivers to his farm, where his wife Claire helped him in his plan." - this is incorrect. John was never a servant and he didn't take the reivers to his farm. He just pretended he was a servant and took them to his farm.

critique: The answer should mention that John was disguised as a servant because he was short in stature.


text:
	Rushing out of the lobby and into the street, Carol had never realized how harsh the cold was. Looking back at the building where she had once sought solitude, she wondered to herself how such a nightmare could take place in a building so regular. a building where people come and go as they please all day long.
	"These things weren't supposed to happen in this neighborhood”. she thought to herself.
	This would be the last time Carol would step onto the "LR Suites" door mat. With her son Ian waiting with the doorman, she was able to hail a taxi much quicker than she expected. Luck was something Carol had never been blessed with.
	"Mommy I'm cold, why are we outside?" Ian's innocent voice questioned.
	"We are going on an adventure, but you mustn't speak until you can see the sunlight poke through the skyscrapers." Carol answered.
	The doorman carried out the lone suitcase, the one Carol had gotten on her wedding night, and loaded it into the trunk of the taxi. This was the first time that suitcase had seen any action since He did not like travel. Carol picked up Ian in his light blue footie pajamas and set him in the seat next to her, already asleep. There is a calming innocence about children sleeping. A knock on the window startled her.
	"Have a nice night Mrs. Oakland." said the doorman, tipping his blue suede hat as she walked out the door.
	"Please, just Carol now." she murmured.
	She directed the taxi to the airport, and took a deep breath as the car sped off into the early morning. After all the commotion, she hadn't had time to look at herself. Her quaint corporate body, trained and ready for a triathlon, was now shivering, even with the taxi's heat on full. She was smart, but not smart enough to avoid letting Him do this to her. A pearl necklace, one that had been ripped away from her neck, was clutched in her hands. She dawned the necklace, or what was left of it, and put her arm around Ian. Every car behind her made question if He was in one of them. He would not be awake until later that next day though. Looking at her toned thighs, she tried to cover up the marks by pulling down her dress. this only caused more marks to show on her shoulders. pulling up to the airport terminal, Carol paid the man 100$, refused change and scurried into the building with a drowsy Ian following.
	"When does your next flight leave?" She asked a bored looking attendant.
	"To where?" the attendant answered.
	"Anywhere, any flight." She replied hastily.
	"Okay, well the next flight isn't until 6:30. To Houston." Said the attendant.
	Without a 'thank you' Carol dragged Ian off to the correct airline and purchased the tickets in cash. Ready to go through security, the sturdy 1980s suitcase was loaded onto the belt and she got through with ease.
	"Where are you off to in such a sleepy attire young man?" asked a jolly TSA officer.
	"My mommy says we are going on an adventure. But I'm not allowed to talk until the sun comes up so don't tell her we spoked." Ian whispered to the man.
	"Haha well you enjoy yourself sir! and I won't tell anyone, it'll be our little 	secret." The officer replied, his light blue shirt slightly constricting his goodbye-wave.
	Carol almost felt better now that she was through security. The more
barriers she could put between herself and Him, the better. Sitting in the terminal she thought of her expensive apartment, the dainty furniture, the elaborate devices, and of course, the extensive liquor cabinet in the office. That was where He had spent all of his time. Sitting across from her, an old woman smiled and knitted with pretty blue yarn. An officer stood by the door to the plane, not too far from where she was. Carol felt safe, almost. She could not lose focus though, she had to protect Ian and make sure she didn't fall asleep. She had to make this flight, or else He would show up. The clock above her read 5:53 and she almost couldn't believe they had sat there for an hour. Time becomes irrelevant when your body goes into its basic hardwired state. The old woman across from her took a closer look at Ian and was horrified. Carol saw that the bruises were starting to surface and covered his neck with her scarf, choosing to show her own instead. There was no denying it now, the officer, the old woman and perhaps the doorman had all seen the marks.
	"Mommy, mommy! I can see the sunlight! does our adventure begin now?" Ian's happy little voice asked.
	"Almost honey, almost..." Carol answered quietly. She was almost calmed down all the way, almost ready to smile, when she heard a ruckus coming from the security area. there was screaming and there was yelling, all men's voices, and a terrifying thought ran through her head: "It's Him." And indeed it was. He had found them, and now He was ready to finish the job. A siren rang out overhead and the shouting got closer. She picked up Ian and started to walk in other direction when He turned a corner and saw them.
	"YOU BITCH, AFTER ALL IVE GIVEN YOU, UNGRATEFUL SLUT, I WILL K-"
	Shots rang out. The officer stood, quivering. The officer collapsed from
shock. Carol stood there and wanted to feel sadness, but none came to her. She wanted to be hurt, the man she had loved was now dead, but she still felt nothing. She wanted to cry out and attack the officer that had shot her, but now she wanted to thank him. Ian started crying, but she ignored him. The old woman came up beside her. Carol took off the necklace He had given her, and put it in the hands of the old woman, who then in return, wrapped a blue knitted scarf around Carol’s neck.

title: [RF] Blue Morning

question: What does the story say about why the airport officer kills Carol's husband?

answer: No answer

critique: The officer kills Carol's husband because he is a threat to Carol and her son.

critique: The response is ungrammatical and it is incorrect.

critique: The answer should mention that the officer shoots Carol's husband because he is trying to kill Carol.

question: What does the story say about Carol's relationship with her husband?

answer: They were married for about six years, but Carol decides that she doesn't want to live anymore because of the repeated violence. She wants to end the relationship but was unable to make her decision known to her husband, who would be abusive during these six years.

critique: The response is inaccurate. Carol and her husband were married for more than six years.

critique: The story does not say how long they were married.

critique: It is not stated that they were married for about six years.

critique: The answer is inaccurate and doesn't make sense.

critique: The story does not say that Carol was married for six years.

critique: It is not stated that her husband would be abusive during the six years.

critique: The text does not say anything about the duration of their marriage.

question: What does the story say about Carol's husband's childhood?

answer: No answer

critique: The response misses to mention that Carol's husband was violent and abusive to her.


text:
[A Pua Kumbu in Sheepstor parish church, on Dartmoor. It was donated to the church by the people of Sarawak in memory of the White Rajahs.]

PUA KUMBU is a traditional patterned multicolored ceremonial cotton cloth used by the Iban people in Sarawak, Malaysia.

Legends on the origins of Iban weaving

There are many legends about the origin of Pua Kumbu, all revolving around the characters of Menggin and Dara Tinchin. The story starts with Menggin, an Iban hunter who shot a beautiful bird with his blowpipe. As he ran to retrieve his game, what he found was a woven skirt instead of a bird. He kept the woven skirt as he had never seen one before. However, he did not know that it belonged to Dara Tinchin Temaga, eldest daughter of a petara known as Singalang Burong. She was looking for her kain everywhere. When she met Menggin, he returned the skirt. In return, Dara married Menggin, although she was already married. She brought him to her home, the other world, the land of the Gods. They also had a son, Sera Gunting. After a year, Dara’s first husband returned home. She asked Menggin and Sera to return to the Iban world and for their journey to wear a jacket known as baju burong and her kain that she had woven. From that day onwards, the jacket and kain have been passed down to many Iban women so they can weave the same designs and remain close to the Gods. And that is how the weaving of pua kumbu began.[1][2]

Dyeing and weaving process

The process starts with preparing the yarn for the weaving, which consists of the following:

-   NABU’ - winding the thread into balls
-   MUAI - to sort out
-   NGIRIT - the process of stretching and pulling a skin of thread horizontally, one thead at a time, to form the base or warp
-   NGARAP - the selection of alternate warp
-   NGEBAT - tying
-   MAMPUL - to cover
-   MUKA’ TANCHANG - untying
-   NGEREMBAI - unfolding
-   ANAK and ARA – adding side designs

Weaving

In order to prepare for the weaving process, the yarns are unfolded and carefully arranged on a wooden frame. Before the actual weaving begins, the side sections of the unfolded yarn known as anak or ara are carefully arranged. Nenun or Weaving is done using a backstrap loom placed in a convenient spot within the longhouse. The final stage involves finishing of the top and bottom edges with a crowfeet pattern.

Dyeing

All of the raw materials for the natural dyes are harvested from the rainforest. The Iban have traditionally made use of a large number of plants to produce a range of rich beautiful dyes. The rengat plant produces an ‘indigo’ colour in many different tones. The akar penawar landak is used to obtain yellow color dye. For the Engkudu dye, if kapok or quicklime is added the colour will turn brown. The yarn is dipped into the combination, turned until it is well saturated and left to soak before it is dried under the sun. after the dye process yarns are further prepared by tying sections to build up the design.[3][4]

Further reading

-   Traude Gavin, _Iban Ritual Textiles_. KITLV Press. 2003. xi, pp. 356 ().
-   “Pua Kumbu,” _The Asian Civilisations Museum A-Z Guide to its Collections_. p. 258. Asian Civilisations Museum. 2003. National Heritage Board, Singapore.

[1] http://rhgareh.com, adapted from Margaret Linggi “The ties that bind” (2001) & story told by Bangie ak Embol

[2] Textile tales of Pua Kumbu – Polysensory Intermedia Exhibition, published by University of Malaya

[3]

[4]

title: Pua Kumbu

question: Summarize the origin of Pua Kumbu.

answer: It was created, legend has it, when Menggin shot a bird with his blowpipe. He discovered a beautiful woven skirt; however, he didn't know it belonged to Dara Tinchin. She had lost it and was looking for it when Menggin found it. In exchange, she married him. They had a child, Sera Gunting, who passed the weaving and jacket down to many women.

critique: It's omitted that Dara's first husband returned.

critique: The answer omits the part where Dara's first husband returns and she asks Menggin and Sera to return to the Iban world.

critique: The answer is a bit confusing. The first sentence is a bit off.

critique: The answer omits the part where Dara's husband returns and she asks Menggin and Sera to return to the Iban world.

critique: The answer should mention that Dara is already married.

critique: The answer omits that Dara Tinchin was married when she married Menggin.

question: Summarize the process of Pua Kumbu weaving.

answer: The yarn is first wound into balls, sorted out, stretched, and pulled. Then the base or warp is formed. The alternate warp is then selected. The thread is then tied, covered, untied, unfolded, and added side designs. The yarn is then unfolded and carefully arranged on a wooden frame. The side sections of the yarn are then carefully arranged. The weaving is then done using a backstrap loom. The yarn is then finished with a crowfeet pattern.

critique: The answer could be more specific about the weaving process.

critique: While this is a good overview of the process, the answer omits the backstrap loom.

critique: The answer is a summary of the weaving process, but it's not a complete summary.

critique: The answer should mention the yarn dyeing process.

text: The answer should go into more detail about the dyeing process.

question: Summarize how the yarn is dyed for Pua Kumbu weaving.

answer: The yarn is dyed using natural dyes from the rainforest. The rengat plant produces an indigo color in many different tones. The akar penawar landak is used to obtain yellow color dye. The Engkudu dye, if kapok or quicklime is added, will turn brown. The yarn is dipped into the combination, turned until it is well saturated, and left to soak before it is dried under the sun.

critique: The yarn is not dipped into the combination, but into the dye.

critique: The answer should mention the preparation of the yarn.

critique: The final sentence of the response is redundant and should be removed.

critique: The yarn is not dipped into the combination, but the combination is added to the yarn.


text:
BETTY HALL JONES (January 11, 1911 – April 20, 2009),[1] was an American boogie-woogie pianist, singer, songwriter and arranger.

Biography

She was born Cordell Elizabeth Bigbee in Topeka, Kansas. Archie Bigbee,[2] her father, was a part-time cornetist and leader of a brass band. Music ran through her family. She learned piano from her uncle in California, where she was raised after her family moved there in 1921. She learned piano, starting at the age of five, going through her first year of college. A Las Vegas Columnist once described Betty Hall Jones as a “tiny 70-year-old black songstress-pianist who tore up the joint.”[3]

Around 1927, she married a banjoist, George Hall, and then had two children but divorced after a few years. In 1936, as Betty Hall, she got a job as a backup pianist for Buster Moten in Kansas City. She returned to Los Angeles to play with Roy Milton from 1937 through 1941, then joined Luke Jones' trio, with whom she recorded. Additionally, she was also the colluder of the Satin Dolls, a group of musicians, Dixieland.[4] She married Jasper Jones in the early part of the decade, taking the name Betty Hall Jones. By 1942 she had joined Paul Howard's Quality Serenaders as pianist and arranger, but also led her own Betty Hall Jones Trio in clubs and hotels, mostly in southern California where she was raising her children.[5] Her family did not approve of the type of music that she was involved in.[6] She died in Torrance, California, in 2009, aged 98.[7]

Career

In 1946 she wrote songs recorded by Alton Redd's band, and, with Luke Jones, recorded with Joe Alexander's Highlanders on the Atlas label. She also recorded under her own name in 1947 for Atomic Records, leading a group that included Jones and, on some recordings, saxophonist Maxwell Davis. She signed for Capitol Records in 1949, and released a string of singles on the label including “This Joint's Too Hip For Me”, probably her best-known recording. As a writer, her songs were recorded by Ray Charles (“Ain't That Fine”) and Nellie Lutcher (“My New Papa's Got To Have Everything”). However, her own recordings were not chart hits. She left the Capitol label the following year, but continued to perform widely, and recorded for the Dootone and Combo labels in the early 1950s. She worked at the Hotel Sorrento in Seattle, Washington, for seven years, and became noted for the flamboyant hats which she wore while performing, switching from one to another between songs.[8] Betty performed a large number of shows for charity. She performed charity shows for the USO and routinely performed for nursing homes.[9]

A compilation of her recordings, _The Complete Recordings 1947-1954_, was issued in 2005.[10]

She was the mother of two children, and married, then divorced, George Hal.[11] She professed to admire Mary Lou Williams, Art Tatum, Teddy Wilson, Fats Waller, Pete Johnson, and Duke Ellington as influences and peers.[12]

Tours

In the 1960s and 1970s she did USO tours in East Asia and toured Australia and Mexico in addition to regular dates in nightclubs on Sunset Boulevard. She toured Sweden and England in the 1980s, and continued performing into the 1990s despite illness.[13] In the 1950s she extended her itinerary from Canada to the Southwest.[14]

[1]

[2]

[3]

[4]

[5] Marv Goldberg, “Betty Hall Jones”, _Marv Goldberg's R&B Notebooks_, 2015. Retrieved 17 November 2016

[6]

[7]

[8]

[9]

[10] Allmusic.com, _The Complete Recordings 1947-1954_

[11]

[12]

[13]

[14]

title: Betty Hall Jones

question: What does the text say about the name of Betty Hall Jones?

answer: Betty Hall Jones was born Cordell Elizabeth Bigbee. She took the name Betty Hall Jones after she married Jasper Jones. She was also known as Betty Hall.

critique: The article mentions that her mother took her a stage name, 'Betty Hall', of which she had already used it.

critique: The answer should mention that she was born Cordell Elizabeth Bigbee.

critique: She took the name Betty Hall Jones after she married George Hall.

critique: The answer should mention that she was also known as Betty Hall Jones.

critique: It's omitted that Jones was known as a "tiny 70-year-old black songstress-pianist"

text: It is omitted that she took the name Betty Hall after she married her first husband, George Hall.

question: Summarize what happened in the 1920s.

answer: Betty Hall Jones learned piano from her uncle in California, where she was raised after her family moved there in 1921. She married a banjoist, George Hall, and had two children, but then divorced after a few years.

critique: The response is missing the part where Jones moved to California with her family.

question: What does the passage say about Ella Fitzgerald?

answer: No answer

critique: The answer should mention that Ella Fitzgerald is not mentioned in the text.

question: Summarize Betty's biography.

answer: Betty Hall Jones was born Cordell Elizabeth Bigbee in Topeka, Kansas. Her father was a part-time cornetist and leader of a brass band. Music ran through her family. She learned piano from her uncle in California, where she was raised after her family moved there in 1921. She learned piano starting at the age of 5, going through her first year of college. She married a banjoist, George Hall, and then had two children but divorced after a few years. In 1936, as Betty Hall, she got a job as a backup pianist for Buster Moten in Kansas City. She returned to Los Angeles to play with Roy Milton from 1937 through 1941, then joined Luke Jones' trio, with whom she recorded. Additionally, she was also the colluder of the Satin Dolls, a group of musicians, Dixieland. She married Jasper Jones in the early part of the decade, taking the name Betty Hall Jones. By 1942 she had joined Paul Howard's Quality Serenaders as pianist and arranger, but also led her own Betty Hall Jones Trio in clubs and hotels, mostly in southern California where she was raising her children. Her family did not approve of the type of music that she was involved in. She died in Torrance, California, in 2009, aged 98.

critique: It is irrelevant to mention how Music ran through her family.

critique: The answer is too long and should be rewritten.

critique: The answer should mention Jones's career.

critique: "She married a banjoist, George Hall, and then had two children but divorced after a few years." - this is incorrect. She married George Hall and had two children, but divorced him after a few years.

critique: The answer is a summary of her entire biography, not just her early years.

critique: The answer is too long and should be trimmed down.

critique: The date of 1921 is not mentioned in the text.

question: Summarize the commentary on the war.

answer: No answer

critique: It cannot be said that there is no answer to the question that is asked in the task. The answer should mention at least something about the topic of war.


text:
    During life people are called many things, some good, some bad. Within a short eight years I’ve been called; a student, worker, son, good listener, hero, savior, and many more. Since I was ten I’ve been talking people out of suicide online. During my eight years of helping people, I’ve helped many people, created an online organization, and learned many new things. This has forever and will constantly change my life.

    Many people ask me, how did this happen? How does a ten year old get mixed up with people’s lives? It was three days after my tenth birthday, the smell of my moms homemade cake was still tangible in the air. I logged onto the computer and found a chat room. I came across a man inside the room. He was talking about ending his life because his wife was cheating on him and getting his kids. My heart was in my ears beating hard, my palms were clammy and wet like a river. I talked with him till late in the night past any ten year olds bed time. This man was set and ready to die, a mere child stopped him. Me.

    A few months after helping the man, I met a girl my age who was rather interested in the “work” I did. She wanted to be part of the action. Lillie and I decided to work together helping people we would find in chat rooms. This continued for about a year. Lillie started to struggle with herself, the constant pressure of someone’s life in your hands at that young of an age takes a heavy toll upon the beholder. Lillie messaged me one night, “Dominic I have a problem” I asked her what it was and she stated, she wanted to die. She couldn’t take helping people anymore. I remember crying, panicking, wanting her to see it my way and not do what she was planning. It all ended so fast only three words remained “Lillie Signed Off.”

    Three years have passed since Lillie’s death, I created an online organization, filled with teens helping people out of dark thoughts. I created this organization in memory of Lillie. DarkShadows. DarkShadows, was constructed of teens from around the world, looking for people with suicidal thoughts that wanted to help prevent suicide. One hundred and ninety-seven teens joined DarkShadows. Each night we would have meetings and we would talk with one another to see if everyone was ok. I learned that this “job” is to hard for one child to take on alone day in and day out, there needs to be an escape route. DarkShadows showed some amazing results, the teens in DarkShadows were able to talk to five hundred plus people out of suicide. With every construction there is a destruction.

    I had a hard time destroying DarkShadows for I was proud of it. I closed down DarkShadows because the stress was enormous, two people were talking people into suicide, three people committed suicide from the pressure, and people started to not care. DarkShadows lasted three years and I was shocked that I could uphold it for so long, but I knew it had to go. I will never forget what I’ve learned from these past experiences.

    I’ve learned, many things over the past few years. I’ve learned that even though the world seems to burn like a raging fireball, there are many people out there still that care for others. I’ve learned that it doesn’t take a hero to save someone, you don’t need a utility belt, powers, cape, gadgets, or a “cool” name to save someone. All you need is a heart, and the will power, and the determination. Everyone is a hero in a way, you’re a hero to your kid, give someone some change for the bus, do something that is not expected from you. You are a hero.

    My life has changed drastically due to this “job”. I have become a better listener, I became mature, I met new people. I think back from when I was ten, I would have never imagined that helping that one guy would take me this far. I feel that due to this, I have a good understanding of people. I can “read” them easier. At times I have thought is it worth it? Is it worth spending hours upon hours helping someone that I don’t even know? When you help someone the end result of them being alive thanks to you is by far the best feeling you can think of. My life will never be the same due to this and for that I am grateful.

    During my short life span I’ve been a lot of things and experienced even more things. Do these names and experiences define me? Or simply give a better understanding of me? By helping one man live through the loss of his wife and kids. I met a great friend that I hold dear in my heart. I became a leader, making tough decisions for a lot of people. I learned, people still care for one another in this world. This has ultimately affected, and effected my life forever and I will never forget it. To be a Hero, you don’t need a cape or a utility belt, just a heart.

title: To Be A Hero You Need A Heart (True Story)

question: What would have happened if Lillie did not kill herself?

answer: Dominic owns and runs DarkShadows, a global organization that tries to help people in need as well as prevent suicide. If Lillie did not kill herself and was still part of his life, Dominic would have never created DarkShadows.

critique: The answer is a bit speculative. It is possible that Dominic would have started the group even if Lillie did not kill herself.

critique: "Dominic owns and runs DarkShadows, a global organization that tries to help people in need as well as prevent suicide. If Lillie did not kill herself and was still part of his life, Dominic would have never created DarkShadows." - this is incorrect. Dominic created DarkShadows because he was inspired by Lillie's death.

critique: Dominic created DarkShadows in memory of Lillie.