Exam 4: Critical Analysis & Reasoning Skills

Passage The traditional tea ceremony evolved from multiple strands of Japanese culture.  Variously referred to as "chanoyu," "sado," or "chado," meaning "the way of tea," the ceremony is a highly codified and choreographed performance in which tea-typically a ground green variety known as "matcha"-is prepared and presented to guests by a host.  The tea ceremony is practiced to promote the harmony of nature and humanity as well as to discipline the mind and calm the heart of those who seek enlightenment.During the ninth century, a Buddhist monk named Eichu brought green tea to Japan from China, where it had already been cultivated for more than 1,000 years and used by monks to facilitate meditation.  Earlier in the century, the Chinese master Lu Yu had composed a treatise on the cultivation and preparation of tea called Cha Jing, or The Classic of Tea.  This treatise was heavily influenced by Buddhist ideas, which then impacted the development of the Japanese tea ceremony.  Toward the end of the twelfth century, another Japanese monk, Myoan Eisai, traveled to China to study philosophy and religion, returning with the seeds of green tea plants.  Eisai went on to build the first Zen Buddhist temple in his native land and was the first of his nation to cultivate tea purely for religious purposes.A tea culture, or "teaism," in Japan was initially popular with the ruling class, and the samurai adopted it as a status symbol.  Indeed, the tea ceremony was in its origins closely entwined with the political elite of the country; by the fifteenth century, however, it had begun to spread to all classes.  Murata Shuko, known as "the father of the tea ceremony," had been largely responsible for moving the tea ceremony away from the political to become more "transformative" or spiritual in nature.  For instance, he greatly enhanced the simplicity of its presentation, making tea ceremonies less formal and more intimate.  Gatherings now took place in smaller tearooms or secluded teahouses rather than luxurious salons.It was the famous tea master Sen no Rikyu who later elevated the tea ceremony to a virtual art form and codified its performance.  This meant that every action and gesture on the part of the preparer-using the kettle, gazing at the teacup, measuring the tea powder into a cup-constituted a procedure to be performed in a prescribed manner.  Even the actions of the guests evolved to become scripted in a precise ritual.  Rikyu's teachings fostered the development of the way of tea based on four cardinal principles-harmony, respect, purity, and tranquility-which were meant to be incorporated into the daily life of the tea practitioner.Chiefly through the efforts of Shuko and Rikyu, the tea ceremony took on a distinctive artistic character and became known as wabi-cha.  The term "wabi," or often "wabi-sabi," refers to the quintessential Japanese aesthetic founded upon the three Buddhist marks of existence: impermanence, suffering, and emptiness.  Unlike the standard concept of beauty in the West that favors symmetry, proportion, and static perfection, wabi-sabi embraces the imperfect and celebrates the transient.  It exalts the rustic and the humble as exemplified by the pottery used in the tea ceremony, which is typically crude, ordinary looking, and even asymmetrical.  Moreover, it is thought that a chip or crack, and even the general wear and tear of repeated use, renders such objects more interesting and, hence, more aesthetically pleasing.  Outdoors, such beauty is found in the fleeting color of autumn leaves and the patina that forms on roof tiles after exposure to the elements.  The simplicity, humility, and naturalism epitomized by wabi-sabi thus became the hallmarks of the way of tea. -According to the passage, it can be assumed that a goal of teaism is to:

Passage First of all, the notion that more than one author was responsible for the composition of the Iliad and the Odyssey may fail to account adequately for the artistic unity and linguistic cohesion that mark these two works.  The idea of dual authorship instead privileges the inconsistencies between the texts stressed by late 19^th- and early 20^th-century scholars who suggested that the two epics are not, in fact, the work of a single poetic genius.  The promulgation of this theory served to undermine an earlier fundamentalist faith in a consensus from antiquity: one and only one poet called Homer authored both poems.Second of all, even if more than one author existed under the guise of Homer, there is no denying that these epics represent the culmination of a long tradition of oral poetry-specifically, oral verse concerning the Trojan War.  The existence of this oral tradition has sometimes been used to speculate that the texts we have of the Iliad and the Odyssey were merely strung together from shorter poems about warrior-heroes sung by itinerant bards to regale the aristocratic courts of ancient Greece.  In this context, the name "Homer" has been explained as a generic designation signifying either a group of ancient singer-poets or an imaginary author to whom a collective body of oral poetry was attributed.That epic poems of more than 12,000 lines could have been recited from memory has been well documented.  Research undertaken at the beginning of the 20^th century identified singers in the Balkans who could perform monumental epic poems from memory.  These performers seemed to have memorized discrete episodes or sections of poetry, arranging these as they recited.  Since then, it has been almost universally recognized that any theory about Homeric authorship must accommodate the oral tradition.Today many scholars find it unlikely that the same individual composed both Homeric epics.  Compellingly, even the ancient consensus that there was just one author cannot be traced further back than about 520 BCE when the two poems-which had been committed to writing in their recognizable form sometime after the introduction of the alphabet to Greece in the 8^th century BCE-were recited by bards at the festival of Athena.  Prior to this, there had already been some controversy regarding the authorship of the poems.  In particular, an alternative tradition claimed that the Odyssey had been written by the poet Melesigenes, who then appropriated the name Homer.Likewise, leading Homericists now conjecture more specifically that one poet wrote the Iliad and that the Odyssey was composed sometime later by a second.  This theory rests on two basic premises:  (1) Each poem has its own well-defined and unified design that discredits the possibility it is merely a pastiche of shorter poems passed down orally and finally stabilized in written form; and (2) differences between the poems seem to point to separate authors.  Scholars cite not only linguistic inconsistencies, including differences in vocabulary, but also discrepancies in background, underlying beliefs, ethics, and even geographical orientation.  Intriguingly, researchers have also found evidence in the Odyssey of imitation of passages from the Iliad.A few skeptics, however, continue to insist that the stylistic similarities between the two epics ascribed to Homer are too striking to support a theory of multiple authorship.  Far from clinging to idealistic notions of artistry or outdated modes of manuscript study, these single-author theorists have combined information technology and analysis of linguistic style to produce a legitimate body of evidence they can marshal against the prevailing trend. West, Martin. "The Homeric Question Today," in Proceedings of the American Philosophical Society, Vol 155. No. 4, December 2011. -Based on passage information, the existence of ditch, irrigation, and drainage channels indicates that the Maya:

Passage There may be reasons to reject the idea of lengthening the school day.  None of them, however, are good reasons.  Rather, the supposed demerits of such a proposal fall easily in the face of its numerous advantages.The first of these advantages lies in reducing the need for childcare.  It is a curious fact of American life that the adult's work schedule and the child's school schedule are misaligned.  Children rise with the sun to head to classes, only to be sent home again hours before parents return from their jobs.  In a society where, more often than not, both parents work, this discordance creates the need for an expensive arrangement to fill the gap in families' routines.  For instance, studies show that in 2016, childcare costs accounted for 9.5 to 17.5 percent of median family income, depending on the state.  Today, 40 percent of families nationwide spend over 15 percent of their income on childcare.  Transportation to and from care sites only adds to that expense.An extended school day also allows for greater diversity and depth in curricula.  Schools across the country have increasingly cut instruction in arts, music, and physical education (as well as recess) in order to meet objectives in reading and math.  While this unfortunate state of affairs can be partially blamed on overzealous attention to standardized tests, it points to the larger deleterious trend of narrowing students' instruction.  With a longer school day such eliminated subjects can be restored, enriching students with a more well-rounded education.To this proposal, however, critics may object that the added time would impose strain on educators.  Can we truly ask schoolteachers-already among the most overworked individuals in society-to endure even more hours in the classroom?  The answer is that a lengthened school day need not distress teachers nor add to their already cumbersome workload.  By providing for additional areas of study in the arts and humanities, the extension would give schools cause to hire new, perhaps specialized, faculty to offer these courses.  Moreover, the time could also be allocated to sports, academic clubs, and other extracurricular activities.However, this point speaks to another objection, namely, the cost of adjusting the school day.  Whether through paying current teachers more or hiring new ones, implementing such a proposal would entail a significant financial expenditure.  There are at least two responses to this line of thinking.  First is that this increase in the cost of schooling would be offset and likely surpassed by the aforementioned savings in childcare.  Thus, while it is true that schools would require greater funding (potentially necessitating higher property taxes), parents would ultimately pay the same or less overall, with greater educational opportunities for their children and fewer transportational burdens.  Second is that schools should be better funded regardless.  Recently, some schools-especially those in rural areas-have even reduced school weeks to only four days as a cost-saving measure.  It is beyond dispute that schools across the board both need and deserve a radically increased investment from citizens.  Lengthening the school day is simply one manifestation of how such funding should be utilized.With this one change, states can coordinate the lives of parents and children, expand curricular offerings, and reduce the need for costly childcare.  These worthy and desirable aims provide a clear justification for extending the school day. -The author provides the most support for which of the following passage assertions?

Passage The name "Sun Tzu" is readily recognized by scholars and non-scholars alike; as the author of The Art of War, he is identifiable even to those who have never studied Chinese history or military strategy.  Much less familiar to the layman is his descendant Sun Bin, who one and a half centuries later (circa 350 BCE) extended the discussion of battlefield tactics with his own insights.  Although some deem Sun Bin's thinking to lack the philosophical depth displayed by his predecessor, the two strategists in fact bear many similarities, and we should not be overhasty in our evaluation of Sun Bin's contribution.An instructive example can be found in a historical record of his advice to another commander concerning a horse race: Sun Bin then said to Tian Ji, "You just go ahead and make a large wager; I will see to it that you win."…Just as the contest was to begin, Sun Bin counseled Tian Ji, "Pit your third-best team against their finest, your finest against their second-best, and your second best against their third."  When all three horse races were finished, though Tian Ji had lost the first race, his horses prevailed in the next two, in the end winning a thousand pieces of the king's gold.It would be easy to dismiss this episode as a demonstration merely of cunning or desire for personal gain.  However, Sun Bin's tactic essentially aligns with Sun Tzu's famous maxim: "If you know the enemy and know yourself, you need not fear the result of a hundred battles."  Nothing had changed about the horses, but Sun Bin arranged their deployment in a way that ensured an overall victory.  Hence, the story is not out of place in a context of military tactics because it illustrates the adaptation of circumstance to one's advantage.Similarly, while The Art of War remains of interest to the modern military mind, its study is even more often applied to non-martial contexts, such as commerce, politics, or simply how to live.  In one chapter, Sun Tzu gives the instruction to "throw your soldiers into positions whence there is no escape, and they will prefer death to flight.  If they will face death, there is nothing they may not achieve."  The military application is obvious, but the underlying idea extends much further: when one cannot give up, there is no choice but to strive for victory with full abandon.  The question then becomes whether one can play both general and soldier, throwing oneself into the inescapable position that must be confronted.Sun Bin refers to the success or failure of an army when saying: "If you take a road that goes nowhere, even Heaven and earth cannot make you prosper; if you take the right road, even Heaven and earth cannot waylay you."  Nevertheless, his words apply far beyond a military perspective.  By situating warfare within "the pattern of the heavens and the earth," Sun Bin conceives it as a microcosm of a larger and more abstract natural harmony.  To act in accordance with this harmony is to secure victory; to fail to do so is to ensure defeat.  Consequently, success in battle is achieved in the same way as success in any endeavor; as with the horse race, one must adapt to the natural propensities of a situation.  Ultimately, Sun Bin provides a compelling picture of battlefield tactics and strategy.  As with Sun Tzu's more famous insights, however, the true depth and value of Sun Bin's thinking lie in its broader scope and application. -Based on passage information, studying Sun Tzu's The Art of War may be useful for all of the following EXCEPT:

Passage The traditional tea ceremony evolved from multiple strands of Japanese culture.  Variously referred to as "chanoyu," "sado," or "chado," meaning "the way of tea," the ceremony is a highly codified and choreographed performance in which tea-typically a ground green variety known as "matcha"-is prepared and presented to guests by a host.  The tea ceremony is practiced to promote the harmony of nature and humanity as well as to discipline the mind and calm the heart of those who seek enlightenment.During the ninth century, a Buddhist monk named Eichu brought green tea to Japan from China, where it had already been cultivated for more than 1,000 years and used by monks to facilitate meditation.  Earlier in the century, the Chinese master Lu Yu had composed a treatise on the cultivation and preparation of tea called Cha Jing, or The Classic of Tea.  This treatise was heavily influenced by Buddhist ideas, which then impacted the development of the Japanese tea ceremony.  Toward the end of the twelfth century, another Japanese monk, Myoan Eisai, traveled to China to study philosophy and religion, returning with the seeds of green tea plants.  Eisai went on to build the first Zen Buddhist temple in his native land and was the first of his nation to cultivate tea purely for religious purposes.A tea culture, or "teaism," in Japan was initially popular with the ruling class, and the samurai adopted it as a status symbol.  Indeed, the tea ceremony was in its origins closely entwined with the political elite of the country; by the fifteenth century, however, it had begun to spread to all classes.  Murata Shuko, known as "the father of the tea ceremony," had been largely responsible for moving the tea ceremony away from the political to become more "transformative" or spiritual in nature.  For instance, he greatly enhanced the simplicity of its presentation, making tea ceremonies less formal and more intimate.  Gatherings now took place in smaller tearooms or secluded teahouses rather than luxurious salons.It was the famous tea master Sen no Rikyu who later elevated the tea ceremony to a virtual art form and codified its performance.  This meant that every action and gesture on the part of the preparer-using the kettle, gazing at the teacup, measuring the tea powder into a cup-constituted a procedure to be performed in a prescribed manner.  Even the actions of the guests evolved to become scripted in a precise ritual.  Rikyu's teachings fostered the development of the way of tea based on four cardinal principles-harmony, respect, purity, and tranquility-which were meant to be incorporated into the daily life of the tea practitioner.Chiefly through the efforts of Shuko and Rikyu, the tea ceremony took on a distinctive artistic character and became known as wabi-cha.  The term "wabi," or often "wabi-sabi," refers to the quintessential Japanese aesthetic founded upon the three Buddhist marks of existence: impermanence, suffering, and emptiness.  Unlike the standard concept of beauty in the West that favors symmetry, proportion, and static perfection, wabi-sabi embraces the imperfect and celebrates the transient.  It exalts the rustic and the humble as exemplified by the pottery used in the tea ceremony, which is typically crude, ordinary looking, and even asymmetrical.  Moreover, it is thought that a chip or crack, and even the general wear and tear of repeated use, renders such objects more interesting and, hence, more aesthetically pleasing.  Outdoors, such beauty is found in the fleeting color of autumn leaves and the patina that forms on roof tiles after exposure to the elements.  The simplicity, humility, and naturalism epitomized by wabi-sabi thus became the hallmarks of the way of tea. -Based on the passage, which of the following descriptions would best represent the character of the tea ceremony imparted by Murata Shuko in fifteenth-century Japan?

Passage Certain schools of thought that arose in the mid- to late 20th century and have since been labeled "poststructuralist" are well known for their propensity to "problematize," "destabilize," or "radicalize" the concepts of previous thinkers.  For example, the controversial French poststructuralist and psychoanalyst Jacques Lacan sought to reenvision the concept, first introduced by Freud in the early 1900s, of the ego as the autonomous agent of the psyche.  Hence in his salient 1949 essay, "The Mirror Stage as Formative of the 'I' Function as Revealed in the Psychoanalytic Experience," Lacan variously describes the formation and consequent function of the ego as a schismatic event of misrecognition, an epiphenomenon of narcissism, and a process of dialectical tension.  The latter sets up an interchange between identification and alienation, generating confusion between being a subject as opposed to an object, between self and other, between what is "me" and "not me."The drama of the ego's emergence in what Lacan has designated "the Mirror Stage" explains its contrary nature.  Somewhere between 6 and 18 months of age, an infant will likely encounter his (or her) own reflection in a mirror.  At this phase of development, the child lacks any sense of a unified self but, encouraged by an adult, is able to recognize his reflection in the glass and, at the same time, comes to understand that the specular image looking back at him is, in fact, not himself.  In other words, the image provides the infant with the first glimpse of himself as an object and specifically as "other."  According to Lacan, the initial fascination and pleasure the child experiences upon self-recognition dissolves into confusion at being unable to distinguish between what is and what is not himself.  Therefore, such recognition amounts to a kind of misrecognition, the French term for which, méconnaissance, implies an essential misunderstanding or lack of knowledge.Furthermore, while the reflection in the mirror appears coherent, coordinated, and whole, the child himself continues to perceive his body as uncoordinated and fragmentary, resulting in a profound sense of incongruity and disharmony.  By exuding mastery and harmony, the mirror image serves as a gestalt; it holds up an "Ideal-I" or future self that promises completeness and perfection-a condition, Lacan believes, that is ultimately unattainable, though we will likely spend the rest of our lives in pursuit of it.  Overall, the infant's reaction to the image or Ideal-I is narcissistic: he feels both attraction to it as a model and aggression toward it as a rival.Alienation, lack, absence, and conflict are thus constitutive of the Lacanian ego.  The child's image and, hence, the emerging ego mark an ontological gap that serves as a repository for the projections and desires, whether conscious or unconscious, of parents and others.  Consequently, this image is, as Adrian Johnston points out, "always already overwritten" with words that are not the child's own.  For Johnston, the ego could more properly be described as "a coagulation of inter- and trans-subjective alien influences."  Rather than a "fluid and autonomous subject," it becomes a rigid and "heteronomous" entity.  Derived from the desires of others, this ego is, in Lacanian terms, "extimate," or internally exterior.  It is an irreducible contradiction, both alien and alienating.This ego paradigm diverges from the more familiar and cohesive Freudian notion of the ego as the sovereign organizer of the personality, the rational mediator between internal drives and social pressures that in the interests of self-preservation will also resort to deceptions and defense mechanisms.  From a Lacanian perspective, the ego is intrinsically and irreparably divided; it functions mainly to support the fictional construct we identify-or rather, misrecognize-as the "self." -In his ascent to the presidency, Garfield was probably LEAST motivated by which of the following?

Passage A crucial part of Pinker's argument against the theory of the blank slate is to address people's motivations for wanting that theory to be true.  As he sees it: "To acknowledge human nature, many think, is to endorse racism, sexism, war, greed….  Any claim that the mind has an innate organization strikes people not as a hypothesis that might be incorrect but as a thought that it is immoral to think."  People thus want to believe there is no such thing as human nature, in order to avoid the negative consequences they think would follow from its existence.  Pinker argues that this position not only must ignore the compelling scientific evidence that the mind does have an innate organization, but also depends upon a fundamental mistake about the implications of that idea.For example, suppose that the relative incidence of some desirable trait was higher in certain populations than in others.  If genetics plays no part in this phenomenon, then such a difference can be attributed solely to social conditions.  Not only would that analysis uphold our commitment to the fundamental equality of persons, but it would also mean that the difference is correctable-we have only to organize society in the proper way, and the disparities between groups would disappear.  On the other hand, if any part of the difference is attributed to genetics, then it would seem to open the door to stereotyping, mistreatment of individuals based on ethnicity, and other ills.  Thus the impulse to reject the prospect of a genetic component is strong, even if the evidence were to suggest such a correlation.However, this worry is based on two misconceptions.  Pinker notes that variance of traits by population would not justify treating members of some populations differently, because it is still wrong-logically as well as morally-to judge a particular person based on the average traits of a group.  Aside from recognizing that people should be evaluated as individuals, it is simply a fact that members of a group will display a variety of characteristics that may be closer to or farther away from a statistical average.  I would add that a supposed justification of differential treatment based on inborn traits does not reflect our normal moral intuitions.  For instance, if Person A is brighter than Person B, we do not therefore conclude that Person B deserves fewer rights or less human dignity.  In the same way, differences between groups also would not justify such a view.Similarly, Pinker argues that putative differences between the sexes are dismissed out of fear that such differences would promote an evaluative hierarchy between men and women.  However, the assumption that men and women cannot be equal unless they are the same ought to strike us as deeply troubling.  That claim would seem to imply that any difference must entail a difference of value, a position which is neither plausible nor morally legitimate…Such considerations also relate to the concerns about human perfectibility alluded to earlier.  Improving people through social institutions does not require that humans be blank slates; in fact, the opposite may be true.  If we ignore the realities of human nature, then the best-intentioned social programs may be ineffective or even harmful.  Moreover, the idea that human beings are completely malleable and can be "molded" as desired ought arguably to inspire more horror than optimism….  On the other hand, acknowledging the existence of human nature enables us to organize society in ways that work with humans as they really are.  Human traits and tendencies are not the straitjackets some imagine, and recognizing their influence allows nurture to work with nature instead of against it. -Based on the passage, "human nature" is used to refer to which of the following phenomena?I. Inherent structure within the human mind /_II. Characteristics more prevalent in some groups than others /_III. Tendencies toward sex-differentiated social traits

Passage Evil can most accurately be defined as the direct antithesis of good.  However, when a human situation does not lend itself to clear designations of ultimate good and ultimate evil, or of right and wrong, then the best that one can hope for is to be able to make an informed decision about which course of action is "more right" and which is "more wrong."Consider the hypothetical case of Dr. Jones, who, in discovering the antidote to a poison (Poison H) has so far concocted only a single vial.  Now suppose that six citizens have drunk from a well whose water has been contaminated with Poison H, but Citizen A has consumed an inordinate volume of the contaminated water.  Accordingly, the doctor has only enough of the antidote to save either Citizen A or the five other citizens.It may seem clear that a doctor could not justifiably allocate the entirety of an antidote to preserving one citizen's life at the expense of losing five others.  However, suppose that Citizen A is the only patient currently present in the doctor's clinic, as the remaining patients are being transferred to Dr. Jones' facility by their respective physicians.  Citizen A is, in fact, Dr. Jones' longtime patient.  The doctor must therefore decide between two exigencies:  to save his own patient's life or to await the arrival of the five remaining citizens.Would Dr. Jones be acting unethically in sacrificing Citizen A given the prospect of administering the antidote to the remaining citizens in time?  This dilemma asks the judicious individual to take into account additional factors that might encumber his or her ability to save the citizens who have not yet arrived.  One should consider, for instance, how long each patient can survive without the antidote.  Unfortunately, no one has a crystal ball to predict future events.  A decision must be made in conjunction with the information available at the time.With this in mind, one may argue that the determination of good versus evil in making a decision lies in the doctor's motivations as he considers the consequences of his impending actions.  Imagine Dr. Jones' nurse exclaiming, "But the doctor cannot make an objective comparison between the lives of other citizens and his own patient!"  Yet, perhaps the doctor would be selfishly inclined to save Citizen A, as Citizen A is the only one whose death would be considered a grievous personal loss.But are such selfish human instincts then to be labeled as evil?  The same propensities labeled as selfish underlie characteristics classified as decent human virtues, such as compassion, empathy, and loyalty.  There are particular circumstances in which the doctor would indeed be remiss to the point of what could be argued as evil-as in cases where he opts to dismiss or distrust his individual conscience.  Consider the case in which he doubts his ability to arrive at a judicious conclusion and abdicates his responsibility for making this grave decision to the nurse.  Or consider the case in which he concludes that it is indeed more valiant to save the five citizens, yet fails to act on his decision out of personal anguish at losing Citizen A or to put an end to the ordeal.In such circumstances, the decision between right and wrong, or the moral dilemma, escalates into what is more accurately a personal determination of good and evil.  In this way, the relative construct of right and wrong, as determined by one's best attempts at logic and sense, must be subordinated to a moral imperative that may be said to be absolute:  namely, that one must abide by an internal commitment to what one has reasoned to be the right decision and follow a corresponding course of action in the allotted time. -The author probably mentions the crystal ball to:

Passage An untamed but generative masculine spirit, ubiquitous though often elusive, haunts the interconnection of humans with nature.  Among its most prominent images are the carved faces, formed from leaves or sprouting them, that peer out from medieval church ceilings and walls.  At once comic and forbidding, this foliate head is neither a gargoyle nor a merely decorative motif, but an archetype whose history stretches as deeply into the mists of time and myth as the roots of a tree.  Nevertheless, it was only as recently as 1939 that British scholar Julia Hamilton Somerset, better known as Lady Raglan, noting a carved face of entwined leaves in a church in southeast Wales, initiated a study of similar images and christened this mysterious male presence the "Green Man."Like many mythological figures, the Green Man is syncretic, interweaving several images and themes or variations on a pattern.  He is, as writer John Matthews claims, "far larger than any simple attempt to define him."  Chiefly, the Green Man symbolizes the union of humans and nature.  Indissolubly linked with the vegetative cycle and the agricultural year, he exudes vitality and fertility and signals both material and spiritual abundance.  Whether as the foliage-covered King of the May Day, also called Jack-in-the-Green, or as the King of the Harvest, John Barleycorn, the Green Man has been an indispensable element of traditional European village celebrations.  He is Keeper of the Forest as well as woodwose, the wild man of the woods, and is sometimes recognized as the consort of Mother Nature.Green Man images can be found in mosaics and carvings from the early Roman Empire.  Originally a pagan icon, the Green Man was incorporated into early Christian iconography, reaching a zenith of architectural popularity in Europe from the eleventh through the fifteenth century.  Notably, Chartres Cathedral in France, built in 1194, features 70 foliate heads, while in Rosslyn Chapel in Scotland, constructed in 1446, no fewer than 103 such heads can be counted.  The Green Man was also known farther east; for instance, near Hatra in present-day Iraq, an imposing leafy countenance stares out from the façade of an ancient temple.The Green Man's lineage is multifaceted.  In the West he is a variant of Dionysus, the god of the vine who dies and is reborn.  Indeed, the fifth-century BCE statue of a leaf-clad Dionysus or Bacchus in Naples, Italy, is perhaps his oldest surviving image, although Dionysus may himself descend from the green-skinned Egyptian god Osiris who likewise dies and rises.  The Green Man is thought to be related to the rustic Greco-Roman deities Pan and Silvanus, and, more speculatively, to Cernunnos, the Celtic horned god of the hunt and lord of the animals.  In the East this mythic being manifests in the figure of Al-Khidir, the Verdant or Green One who is a spiritual guide of heroes in the Koran.Green Man figures also pervade Western literature, which was influenced at its origin by the Sumerian Epic of Gilgamesh and its character of Enkidu, a wild, shaggy nature man fashioned by the gods as a counterpart to the young King Gilgamesh.  Later the medieval tales of King Arthur feature the baffling Green Knight, who, like the eastern Al-Khidir, is a warrior guide.  In the fifteenth century, the Green Man reemerges as Robin Hood; in the twentieth century, J. M. Barrie's eternally youthful Peter Pan is tellingly "clad in skeleton leaves and the juices that flow from trees."In Matthews' view, the Green Man is the embodiment of "unvanquishable greenness."  This perspective might explain the recurrence of his image and its recent adoption by environmental awareness movements as an assurance of ecological renewal. -The passage implies that the mythic figure of the Green Man emerged from:

Passage Certain schools of thought that arose in the mid- to late 20th century and have since been labeled "poststructuralist" are well known for their propensity to "problematize," "destabilize," or "radicalize" the concepts of previous thinkers.  For example, the controversial French poststructuralist and psychoanalyst Jacques Lacan sought to reenvision the concept, first introduced by Freud in the early 1900s, of the ego as the autonomous agent of the psyche.  Hence in his salient 1949 essay, "The Mirror Stage as Formative of the 'I' Function as Revealed in the Psychoanalytic Experience," Lacan variously describes the formation and consequent function of the ego as a schismatic event of misrecognition, an epiphenomenon of narcissism, and a process of dialectical tension.  The latter sets up an interchange between identification and alienation, generating confusion between being a subject as opposed to an object, between self and other, between what is "me" and "not me."The drama of the ego's emergence in what Lacan has designated "the Mirror Stage" explains its contrary nature.  Somewhere between 6 and 18 months of age, an infant will likely encounter his (or her) own reflection in a mirror.  At this phase of development, the child lacks any sense of a unified self but, encouraged by an adult, is able to recognize his reflection in the glass and, at the same time, comes to understand that the specular image looking back at him is, in fact, not himself.  In other words, the image provides the infant with the first glimpse of himself as an object and specifically as "other."  According to Lacan, the initial fascination and pleasure the child experiences upon self-recognition dissolves into confusion at being unable to distinguish between what is and what is not himself.  Therefore, such recognition amounts to a kind of misrecognition, the French term for which, méconnaissance, implies an essential misunderstanding or lack of knowledge.Furthermore, while the reflection in the mirror appears coherent, coordinated, and whole, the child himself continues to perceive his body as uncoordinated and fragmentary, resulting in a profound sense of incongruity and disharmony.  By exuding mastery and harmony, the mirror image serves as a gestalt; it holds up an "Ideal-I" or future self that promises completeness and perfection-a condition, Lacan believes, that is ultimately unattainable, though we will likely spend the rest of our lives in pursuit of it.  Overall, the infant's reaction to the image or Ideal-I is narcissistic: he feels both attraction to it as a model and aggression toward it as a rival.Alienation, lack, absence, and conflict are thus constitutive of the Lacanian ego.  The child's image and, hence, the emerging ego mark an ontological gap that serves as a repository for the projections and desires, whether conscious or unconscious, of parents and others.  Consequently, this image is, as Adrian Johnston points out, "always already overwritten" with words that are not the child's own.  For Johnston, the ego could more properly be described as "a coagulation of inter- and trans-subjective alien influences."  Rather than a "fluid and autonomous subject," it becomes a rigid and "heteronomous" entity.  Derived from the desires of others, this ego is, in Lacanian terms, "extimate," or internally exterior.  It is an irreducible contradiction, both alien and alienating.This ego paradigm diverges from the more familiar and cohesive Freudian notion of the ego as the sovereign organizer of the personality, the rational mediator between internal drives and social pressures that in the interests of self-preservation will also resort to deceptions and defense mechanisms.  From a Lacanian perspective, the ego is intrinsically and irreparably divided; it functions mainly to support the fictional construct we identify-or rather, misrecognize-as the "self." -The author provides the most evidence to support which of the following claims in the passage?

Passage In September 1940, near the tiny village of Montignac in the southwest region of France, a band of four youths and a dog accidentally stumbled upon the opening to a series of underground caverns whose walls were covered with prehistoric paintings.  Their monumental discovery unleashed a mystery that has continued to puzzle scholars: What function did these magnificent caves perform for the society that painted them?  One plausible theory, yet unproven, is that they constituted a kind of sacred space, perhaps a site for religious ceremonies.Decades of work recording and analyzing the contents of this labyrinthine underworld, which came to be called Lascaux, have yielded some clues.  Pollen testing, carbon-14 dating, and the examination of flint and bone tools within the caves have been used to calculate the time period during which these subterranean reaches were painted and served their function.  The paintings date from between 17,000 and 12,000 BCE, which places them within the Upper Paleolithic era.  More specifically, they belong to the Magdalenian period of the last ice age that preceded the dawn of the current geological epoch and the invention of agriculture.More than 2,000 paintings and symbols cover the insides of the caverns.  Approximately 900 of these depict horses, bison, stags, large felines, and hares, clearly reflecting a society of hunter-gatherers.  Various pigments, mainly red, yellow, and brown, were used.  By employing a novel method that took advantage of the edges and curvatures of the cave walls, the artists were able to give lifelike dimensions to these images and endow them with a sense of motion.  Nevertheless, the cave art of Lascaux suggests a purpose that goes beyond artistic expression.It is likely these chambers served as a sanctuary within which the paintings would have corresponded to the iconography of a temple.  Moreover, countless footprints shown to have belonged to adolescent males suggest that the caves may have hosted initiation rituals marking a boy's passage from childhood to maturity.  At this critical juncture, the youths would have traditionally been separated from their families by the adult males and put through frightening ordeals.  The boys might have been tattooed, confined, or presented with physical challenges.  The purpose of such traumas was to prepare the adolescent for the physical and psychological rigors of the hunt, the brutalities of warfare, and the inevitable trials of adulthood.  Theologian Karen Armstrong describes such experiences as triggering "a regressive disorganization of the personality" followed by "a constructive reorganization" of the individual's faculties.  In other words, the rites were meant to force the youth to call upon inner resources of which he was not yet aware, thereby inducing a kind of psychological death and rebirth.Lying deep within the earth, the caves would have provided the perfect container for these traumatic rites-a fact that became evident when Lascaux was opened to the public in 1948.  As mythologist Joseph Campbell recalled of his visit there, when the lights were out, all normal orientation and sense of time were suspended and "you were never in darker darkness in your life."  In primitive societies, descending into the darkness of the caves must have seemed like immersing oneself in what religious historian Mircea Eliade has termed "sacred time," a kind of dissociative state conducive to the deeply transformative experience of the initiate.  When illuminated against the blackness, the realistic murals would have become a moving spectacle that simulated the hunt, the wonder and gravity of which was forever imprinted upon the boys' psyches. -If the author were to claim that the initiation rites described in Paragraph 4 served as an effective means for the adolescent boys to mature, the evidence provided for such an inference would be:

Passage Jorge Luis Borges' 1946 short story "On Exactitude in Science" plays with the well-known aphorism, "The map is not the territory."  In this paragraph-long fable, an empire's ambitious cartographers produce a map so spectacularly isomorphic it corresponds precisely in scale and detail with the kingdom it represents.  Perfect yet useless, the map is virtually indistinguishable from the landscape until it begins to decay.  In a 1981 treatise, Simulacra and Simulation, French sociologist Jean Baudrillard cites Borges' tale as "the finest allegory" of his own provocative proposition that, in the current era, we have lost the ability to distinguish between reality and its representation.  Thus, Baudrillard-known as an extreme cultural relativist and often mocked as "the high priest of postmodernism"-postulates that "it is no longer a question of either maps or territories"; rather, "[s]omething has disappeared: the sovereign difference, between one and the other," that, he laments, once "constituted the charm of abstraction."  Indeed, our postmodernist world is saturated with signs, symbols, and images that are never neutral or transparent but, by mediating reality, come to construct it.  Consequently, in a sinister twist on the story, Baudrillard can assert that "today it is the territory whose shreds slowly rot across the map."  As he elaborates, "[T]he territory no longer precedes the map, nor does it survive it."  Instead, "[i]t is…the map that precedes the territory…that engenders the territory."  In other words, representation can be seen to precede, produce, and ultimately surpass reality.But how can a copy be the antecedent of an original?  How does an image become so alienated from reality?  In Baudrillard's scheme, signs are subject to degeneration.  Initially, a sign reflects reality, substituting for an original; like a carefully crafted counterfeit, it is a faithful but identifiable copy.  In the next stage, the sign devolves into a less faithful copy of the original, thus distorting what it represents and masking reality.  In its penultimate phase, the representation no longer pretends to be the original but now instead pretends to be a copy; hence, it masks an absence of reality and erodes the distinction between the real and representation.  For instance, when images are mass produced, they propagate, taking on a life of their own and diminishing the authoritative aura of the original.  In the final stage of the sign's devolution, it can claim "no relation to any reality whatsoever"; it no longer reflects or refers to reality but instead signifies nothing but signification.  It has become a pure simulation, a suspiciously specious semblance Baudrillard calls the simulacrum.In Baudrillardian theory, when the distinction between representation and reality, sign and referent, original and reproduction disintegrates, the real disappears; we are left with copies of copies that no longer have-or never had-an original.  What remains, then, is a "hyperreality" of simulacra and simulation.  So, Baudrillard maintains, "[s]imulation is no longer that of a territory, a referential being, or substance....  It is no longer a question of imitation, nor duplication, nor even parody."  It is instead a question of substitution, of "substituting the signs of the real for the real."  As one writer describes it, "The simulation is no longer a reflection of reality, nor a reference to it, but a creation of a new real by models that are not based on reality."  This new real may be genetically engineered, as with cloning, or possibly computer generated.  Even something as essential as currency has been progressively replaced, first by checks and then by credit and debit cards, until finally only numbers, divorced from any concrete reality, are exchanged on money transfer apps.  Likewise, as reality dissolves into the hyperreality of simulacra, human experience devolves into "a simulation of reality." -The author's central point regarding the existence of the universe is that:

Passage Norwegian artist Edvard Munch's instantly identifiable painting Der Schrei der Natur or, more simply, The Scream, destabilizes the very concept of a work of art as discrete and unique.  Boasting two versions in pastel and two in oil as well as a lithograph-all generated between 1893 and 1910-Munch's masterpiece arguably constitutes not a single but a multiplicitous work.  Moreover, Munch originally conceived of the painting not as a freestanding piece but as part of a more ambitious project called the Frieze of Life.  The Frieze included 22 panels portraying life circumstances and moods, such as illness, love, and death; the panel depicting despair was the precursor for The Scream.In a poem based on an 1892 diary entry, Munch relates the genesis of what would become his most celebrated work.  He was walking across a bridge with two friends in the vicinity of Ekeberg Hill, overlooking Oslo, when "…the sun was setting-suddenly the sky turned blood-red-I paused, feeling exhausted, and leaned on the fence-there was blood and tongues of fire above the blue-black fjord and the city--my friends walked on and I stood there trembling with anxiety-and I sensed an infinite Scream passing through nature."The artistic consequence of Munch's terrifying epiphany is a black-shrouded figure, ill-defined and ghostlike, whose sickly pale face stares out at the viewer against the menacing background of a bloodshot sky.  Mouth wide open, eyes bulging, hands clasped to its ears in a pose more horrified than horrifying, the figure appears to tremble on a bridge over turbulent waters.The Scream aptly captured both the self-indulgence and despair characterizing the turn of the twentieth century at the same time that it heralded the existential angst of the mid-century.  Influenced by luminaries such as the impressionist painter Monet and the more deeply expressive Van Gogh, Munch's free-form style, vivid colors, and striking juxtapositions mark this work as avant-garde.Nevertheless, as art curator Martha Tedeschi asserts, The Scream is one of only a handful of paintings in the history of art able to "communicate a specific meaning almost immediately to almost every viewer"; its primitive character transmits a raw emotionality and subjectivity.  Unsurprisingly, then, the painting has over-spilt the bounds of traditional art to become an icon of popular culture.  In the 1970s, Andy Warhol mass-produced the image on silk, the serial replications reflecting the painting's own multiplicity.  Wildly appropriated and often misused, the image-through which Munch purported to be doing nothing less than studying his own soul-has appeared on everything from keychains to dormitory posters and is in danger of becoming kitsch.Interestingly enough, two different versions of The Scream have been the targets of unusual thefts; however, in both instances the paintings were recovered.  First, a version was stolen from the National Gallery in Oslo during the 1994 Olympics in Lillehammer.  In an almost comical heist, two men employed a ladder to easily access a second-story window and abscond with the painting, taking the time to leave a postcard that read, "Thanks for the poor security."  Then, in 2004, robbers entered Oslo's Munch Museum in broad daylight, intimidated museum guards with firearms, and used a wire cutter to extract another version of The Scream from the wall along with Munch's Madonna painting.Munch was a remarkably prolific painter; when he died in 1944, he left a legacy of over a thousand paintings, several thousand drawings, and more than 15,000 prints.  Ironically, however, it is the "single" provocative image of The Scream that, as both masterpiece and pop icon, has eclipsed all this artist's other works. -The poem based on Munch's diary entry is most likely incorporated into the passage (Paragraph 2) to:

Passage For decades, socialism has been a pervasive bogeyman laying siege at the periphery of the American psyche.  Policies and candidates alike are dismissed out of hand by pronouncing them "socialist," the term sufficing to preclude further consideration.  However, such reactions to any topic ought to give us pause: have we truly judged an idea as unworthy, impractical, or unjust?  Or do we simply demonstrate an unreflective fear of a label?Initial prejudice notwithstanding, legitimate scrutiny is warranted.  Perhaps the gravest threat of socialist programmes to capitalist America is their perceived unfairness-that the rewards of labor or industry will be siphoned from those who rightfully own or generate them and bestowed upon those who did not contribute to their production.Shall we accept without question, however, the assumptions intrinsic to such notions of "rightful" ownership, or more generally, those of fairness itself?  In fact, capitalists and socialists will likely agree on the broad outlines of what fairness entails.  The objection to redistribution of wealth rests on the idea that it takes from the more deserving and gives to the less-if not to the lazy or the layabout.  Given equality of opportunity, why should he who toils be denied the right of harvest?  Why should he who idles be afforded an equal reward?Nonetheless, this claim of initial social equality is precisely what socialism rejects as illusory.  Let us suppose that everyone in society begins life upon equal footing.  None are afforded a greater portion of opportunity, but all are competitors in open tests of skill over time.  By merit, coupled with the vicissitudes of fortune, some ascend to the heights of success, others plummet to the depths of failure, still more inhabit some middle ground.  Equality is shattered, but justly, and from an early uniformity of status rise differences in wealth, garnered according to the abilities and enterprise displayed by each person.As time passes, however, the wealth or destitution of one generation is bequeathed to the next, and then inequality becomes ingrained.  What was before an earned difference of outcome is now an unearned difference of potential.  One individual has an advantage that another lacks-not gained through striving and perseverance but inherited through accident of birth.Such effects only compound over time.  Inevitably, dynasties of wealth accrue by which a few through mere circumstance enjoy economic mastery over the many, who face through the tyranny of chance an undeserved impediment.  The socialist's claim, then, is that complaints against redistribution of wealth fail in light of the very concern for fairness upon which they are founded.This same concern has led various leaders throughout history to implement socialism.  For instance, eleventh-century Chinese statesman Wang An-shih instituted state control of the economy "with a view to succoring the working classes and preventing them from being ground into dust by the rich."  This noble goal met with only temporary success, however, as the system later fell to governmental corruption, private greed, and untimely droughts and floods.Are the dismissive reactions towards socialism then justified?  Not as such.  Capitalism has many virtues, but it is equally liable to exploitation.  In post-industrial America, governmental reforms and regulations on commerce and industry were required to redress the systemic injustices perpetuated by dynastic wealth, as well as to protect the welfare of a multitude bound to wages insufficient to secure life's necessities.  Perhaps the lesson to be drawn is that a "pure" form of either capitalism or socialism will ultimately prove destructive.  Rather than embrace or reject one system from the outset, we must avoid a focus on labels and instead inquire which ideas, and in what combination, best promote the justice whose value we profess. -Based on passage information, the author would most likely suggest that countries should implement which of the following kinds of taxes?

Passage In 1482, a thirty-year-old Leonardo da Vinci left his art studio in Florence and traveled to Milan to seek employment at the court of Duke Ludovico Sforza.  A drafted letter of application to the duke detailed Leonardo's many useful skills, the majority of which concerned military developments such as "methods for destroying any fortress" and making "unassailable armored chariots."  Peacetime talents such as "guiding water from one place to another" or producing "sculpture in marble, bronze and clay" were mentioned only at the end of the letter.  Nevertheless, one of the most intriguing items is the entry stating, "I have designed extremely light and strong bridges, adapted to be easily carried": in other words, portable bridges.Modern scholars question whether most of the devices mentioned in Leonardo's letter could really have been constructed.  For instance, Krull describes the fact that Leonardo never sent the letter as "a good thing, as it was mostly bluff."  Isaacson, though a bit more charitable, similarly declares that Leonardo's "boasts were aspirational."  Regarding the bridge, however, there is no doubt that the design is workable.According to at least one account, Leonardo really did make such a bridge for Sforza.  More significantly, examples of the bridge have been built and used in contemporary times.  A sketch in one of Leonardo's notebooks illustrates the bridge's construction, which includes different sets of wooden beams cut to specific lengths.  Requiring no nails, ropes, or other fasteners, nor any tools, the bridge can be assembled by a mere handful of people, and even some children could potentially build a small version or model.When the bridge is constructed correctly, each component helps to hold all the other components in place.  The original sketch calls for the beams to be notched so that the pieces of the bridge lock together.  However, in some cases this feature can be omitted, provided the wood is sufficiently rough.  This version of the bridge then stands and bears weight due to friction, gravity, and the physical integrity of the pieces.  In this way, the structure depends entirely on the interplay of physical forces upon its parts.The design is modular and repeatable, meaning that a longer bridge can be made by simply adding another section, with the supports interlocked accordingly.  Given enough materials, time, and manpower, such a bridge could in principle be made to quite a great length.  However, in longer bridges the notches would in fact be needed, because some of the beams would be at steeper angles.Despite the relative ease of constructing the bridge, there is one challenge: building it requires access to both sides of the region to be crossed, as well as the area in between.  Such a consideration might seem obvious in building any bridge, but it can still prove problematic.  If a bridge is meant to help cross a body of water, not all members of the group attempting to cross will receive its benefit, as some would have to stand in the water during the bridge's construction.  Of course, this assumes that it is safe to enter the water in the first place.  Crossing a chasm or a deep pit would pose even greater difficulties, as the bridge's prospective builders would, like the ancient Greek mathematician Archimedes, lack a place to stand.  Leonardo may have confronted that problem as well and considered how to make a bridge that was not only portable and freestanding, but constructible in sequence from one end to the other.  Although no evidence exists of such a design in the known pages of his notebooks, many pages have been lost to history and might one day be rediscovered. -Based on the author's discussion of Leonardo's letter of application to Duke Ludovico Sforza, one can infer that:

Passage The destruction of the White House was not the fault of its original builders.  When James Hoban designed a presidential palace to reflect George Washington's vision for a residence in 1792, he upheld the best architectural standards of his day.  By the time of the 1948-1952 renovation, however, there were plenty of people to blame for the White House's condition.  A combination of poor planning, carelessness, and neglect throughout the intervening years caused a catastrophic deterioration.Robert Klara recounts a history of changes to the White House that gradually compromised its structural integrity, beginning as far back as 1833 when Andrew Jackson had pipes installed for running water.  Subsequent presidents added modern conveniences in pace with technological developments: gas lighting for James Polk, a telephone system for Rutherford Hayes, and air conditioning for Chester Arthur, among others.  None of these advancements could have been anticipated by Hoban, and they had the dual effect of increasing the load borne by the house while decreasing its ability to bear that burden.  The builders responsible for the many additions performed "careless and foolish maneuvers that a first-year architecture student would never have made," such as installing doorways in load-bearing walls or destroying the keystones of a brick arch.  Deep cuts were carved into crucial support beams to make room for pipes, wiring, and air ducts, weakening the beams and concentrating weight that would otherwise have been more evenly distributed.By the turn of the twentieth century, the structural failings of the White House had become difficult to ignore.  The building was likely beyond saving at that point, and President Roosevelt didn't help matters by allowing architect Charles McKim only four months to make repairs.  McKim reinforced the second floor as well as he could within the time allotted, but his efforts only delayed the inevitable.  In 1925, Calvin Coolidge scoffed at reports that the White House roof was unsafe until "[a] chunk of it broke off and bonked President Coolidge in the head."  Poetic justice notwithstanding, the repairs to which he only then begrudgingly agreed had a disastrous side effect: the weight of the roof was shifted away from the stronger outer walls to the weaker inner ones, causing enormous structural strain.The need to reconstruct the mansion reached a breaking point during the Harry Truman administration.  Walls continued to sink and pull away from ceilings; heavy chandeliers swung dangerously from movement on the floor above them; the entire East Room required scaffolding to prevent the collapse of its ceiling.  More dramatic incidents involved daughter Margaret Truman's piano.  Not only did the floor of her sitting room begin to sway up and down while she was playing a duet with a friend, but no steps were taken to move the piano away from the weak floor afterward.  Predictably, White House residents and staff were later horrified when one of the piano's legs crashed through, puncturing the overtaxed wood and sending debris cascading into the room below.  As for Margaret, Klara relates how she called the Steinway company to ask for "a man who could come over to rescue a piano."That event was the crescendo in a long string of architectural warnings.  Ultimately, there was little choice but to tear down and rebuild the White House.  The exterior façade was preserved, as were a few of the interior's furnishings and decorations.  Still, the extensive transformation left many feeling that the White House was no longer the same. -For which of the following statements does the author provide the LEAST evidence in the passage?

Passage An untamed but generative masculine spirit, ubiquitous though often elusive, haunts the interconnection of humans with nature.  Among its most prominent images are the carved faces, formed from leaves or sprouting them, that peer out from medieval church ceilings and walls.  At once comic and forbidding, this foliate head is neither a gargoyle nor a merely decorative motif, but an archetype whose history stretches as deeply into the mists of time and myth as the roots of a tree.  Nevertheless, it was only as recently as 1939 that British scholar Julia Hamilton Somerset, better known as Lady Raglan, noting a carved face of entwined leaves in a church in southeast Wales, initiated a study of similar images and christened this mysterious male presence the "Green Man."Like many mythological figures, the Green Man is syncretic, interweaving several images and themes or variations on a pattern.  He is, as writer John Matthews claims, "far larger than any simple attempt to define him."  Chiefly, the Green Man symbolizes the union of humans and nature.  Indissolubly linked with the vegetative cycle and the agricultural year, he exudes vitality and fertility and signals both material and spiritual abundance.  Whether as the foliage-covered King of the May Day, also called Jack-in-the-Green, or as the King of the Harvest, John Barleycorn, the Green Man has been an indispensable element of traditional European village celebrations.  He is Keeper of the Forest as well as woodwose, the wild man of the woods, and is sometimes recognized as the consort of Mother Nature.Green Man images can be found in mosaics and carvings from the early Roman Empire.  Originally a pagan icon, the Green Man was incorporated into early Christian iconography, reaching a zenith of architectural popularity in Europe from the eleventh through the fifteenth century.  Notably, Chartres Cathedral in France, built in 1194, features 70 foliate heads, while in Rosslyn Chapel in Scotland, constructed in 1446, no fewer than 103 such heads can be counted.  The Green Man was also known farther east; for instance, near Hatra in present-day Iraq, an imposing leafy countenance stares out from the façade of an ancient temple.The Green Man's lineage is multifaceted.  In the West he is a variant of Dionysus, the god of the vine who dies and is reborn.  Indeed, the fifth-century BCE statue of a leaf-clad Dionysus or Bacchus in Naples, Italy, is perhaps his oldest surviving image, although Dionysus may himself descend from the green-skinned Egyptian god Osiris who likewise dies and rises.  The Green Man is thought to be related to the rustic Greco-Roman deities Pan and Silvanus, and, more speculatively, to Cernunnos, the Celtic horned god of the hunt and lord of the animals.  In the East this mythic being manifests in the figure of Al-Khidir, the Verdant or Green One who is a spiritual guide of heroes in the Koran.Green Man figures also pervade Western literature, which was influenced at its origin by the Sumerian Epic of Gilgamesh and its character of Enkidu, a wild, shaggy nature man fashioned by the gods as a counterpart to the young King Gilgamesh.  Later the medieval tales of King Arthur feature the baffling Green Knight, who, like the eastern Al-Khidir, is a warrior guide.  In the fifteenth century, the Green Man reemerges as Robin Hood; in the twentieth century, J. M. Barrie's eternally youthful Peter Pan is tellingly "clad in skeleton leaves and the juices that flow from trees."In Matthews' view, the Green Man is the embodiment of "unvanquishable greenness."  This perspective might explain the recurrence of his image and its recent adoption by environmental awareness movements as an assurance of ecological renewal. -The central idea of the passage is that:

Passage No one would argue that much good has ever come out of the crucible of war, and certainly not from the kinds of atrocities that characterized the Second World War.  However, the horror of the Dutch famine that occurred toward the end of the war, what in the Netherlands is commonly called the Hongerwinter, has provided epidemiologists a unique opportunity to research the long-term health effects of nutritional deficiency in utero on a specific cohort of individuals.Because it was so widespread-affecting as many as 4.5 million people in the German-occupied Netherlands-but limited in duration and swiftly followed by a return to prosperity, the Dutch famine constituted a highly aberrant situation of deprivation in a modern, developed nation.  The devastation began in September 1944 when Allied Airborne Forces failed to seize control of the bridge that crosses the Rhine River at Arnhem.  To impede German ground troops and assist the Allies, the Dutch government then ordered a railway strike, prompting the Germans to retaliate with an embargo that cut off food and fuel supplies to the central and western provinces of the Netherlands, including the country's largest urban centers.  Even after the embargo ended, railways remained dismantled and the Germans continued to requisition goods, stalling supplies.  This already dire situation was exacerbated by war-ravaged agricultural regions and an unusually harsh winter that froze the canals.  As the fighting dragged on, food rations dwindled.  Faced with escalating scarcity, urban dwellers desperately scoured the countryside seeking anything edible for which they could trade their valuables.  Many were reduced to eating tulip bulbs and grass.  The death toll from starvation alone reached 20,000.The famine was among the best documented in modern history, and the Dutch Hunger Winter Study has been the first study to examine the long-term consequences of intrauterine starvation.  The study compared 422 individuals exposed to adverse intrauterine conditions with 463 siblings who were the products of pregnancies that either came to term before the famine began or occurred afterward.  The initial results, published in 1976, revealed that, among other health consequences, individuals exposed to deprivation during early gestation had much higher than normal rates of obesity as adults.  Research by scientists from both the Netherlands and the US, together with new information from the field of epigenetics (the study of changes in gene expression barring alteration of the genetic code), now suggests that nutritional restriction during early gestation effectively inactivates specific genes.Additional studies have shown that genetic expression can be altered through the addition of a methyl group, an organic compound consisting of one carbon and three hydrogen atoms, to a DNA molecule.  This methylation can modify gene expression without altering the DNA sequence.  In other words, it changes an individual's phenotype, or the observable genetic expression, but does not change the genome.  With this discovery, scientists now theorize that in individuals whose mothers suffered near-starvation during the early stages of pregnancy, DNA methylation silenced specific genes that normally help boost the rate at which the body consumes cellular energy.  The inactivation of these genes lowers metabolism, causing an increased tendency toward adult obesity.Other factors such as diet, environment, and even stress have been shown to alter methylation patterns on genes.  Furthermore, it has now been documented that the offspring of the Hunger Winter babies frequently exhibit the same health problems as their parents, including not only obesity, but also diabetes and cardiovascular disease.  Thus, with the advancement of genomics, this unfortunate period of starvation in the Netherlands offers strong evidence that DNA methylation is heritable-invaluable knowledge that can be used to understand a multitude of disease processes. -From the discussion in Paragraph 3, one can reasonably conclude that prior to World War II, there were NO studies that:

Passage Let us consider a widely accepted principle, what is called the "Principle of Voter Rationality."  It states that rationally motivated members of a democratic society ought to vote, as it is in their own best interest to do so.  The idea behind this principle is remarkably simple, of course: rationally motivated people ought to do whatever is in their own best interest.  Democratic societies provide citizens with the opportunity to exercise their will through the process of elections.  Rationally motivated citizens ought to vote, then, because electing candidates who will act on their behalf is in their own best interest.  If true, the principle elegantly justifies the scaffolding that upholds democracy itself: citizen engagement with the democratic process.As it turns out, there are excellent reasons to reject this principle.  Notice that the probability that any single vote will have an impact on the outcome of an election decreases as the number of voters increases.  In nationwide elections in democratic societies, the probability that any one vote will change the outcome of an election is infinitesimally small; so small, in fact, that a modest estimate for presidential elections in the US puts this probability at roughly one in one hundred million.  For all practical purposes, it is true to say that any single person's decision to vote will not affect the outcome of an election.Citizens who are rationally motivated in the relevant sense, when deciding whether to vote in an election, must weigh the potential benefits of voting against its known costs.  And there are many such costs: the loss of one's personal time, frustration caused by long lines at the polling station, the energy needed to sufficiently educate oneself about candidates' policies, and so on.  Because the probability that one's vote will have any significant impact on the outcome of the election is so minuscule, however, citizens can be practically certain that the costs of voting will outweigh its potential benefits.  Therefore, contra the Principle of Voter Rationality, citizens must conclude that it is not in their best interest to participate in the democratic process…Moreover, if we are willing to assume, in the way the principle does, that democratic citizens are rationally motivated, then, given a sufficiently large population of citizens who deliberate about whether to engage in voting behavior, the democratic process should break down.  For each citizen should find that he or she ought to abstain from participating in this process due to the aforementioned reasons…In truth, the democratic process is fully intact.  The problem with the Principle of Voter Rationality is that it assumes, falsely, that voting behavior is "rationally motivated" when and only when it is done for the purpose of influencing the outcome of an election.  But other sources of justification are available.  As I see it, it is a commitment to the principles of democracy itself that should compel rational citizens, independently of whether it furthers their personal interests, to participate in the democratic process.  For with such a commitment comes a civic duty to prevent the breakdown of one's own democracy and, with this, comes the justification for voting behavior.But what can be said about the nature of "civic duties," and why should we suppose that there are any such duties in the first place?  For my part, I believe that a democratic government's policies and its citizens' civic duty to vote derive from the more general obligation upon man to help his fellow citizen, to increase the welfare of others with no expectation of a reward, a duty for altruism… -Why does the author discuss the "thought experiment" that appears in in Paragraph 2?

Passage The Aran Islands, a trio of carboniferous limestone slabs, likely more than 350 million years old, are situated at the mouth of Galway Bay off the western coast of Ireland, on what in ages past must have seemed the very periphery of the civilized world.  For those who have dared to test the habitability of these rocky fragments, one certainty has always awaited: challenge.  Indeed, the presumed prototype of the Aran economy has been one of bare subsistence, a veritable experiment in self-sufficiency, demanding resourcefulness, endurance, and, above all, austerity.Of the three isles, Inishmore, the largest and westernmost, whose length forms a 9-mile breakwater against the Atlantic, has perhaps also been the most economically diverse and certainly the most historically colorful.  The island hosted the first monastic communities of Ireland and withstood the blunt force of Viking raiders and, centuries later, Cromwellian soldiers.  Following these invasions, the population-and the economy along with it-managed to flourish despite a landscape whose barrenness offered an almost equal shortage of arable land and surface water.  In addition, Inishmore's prolonged growing season, the result of year-round moderate temperatures, afforded an exquisite irony: the flora and fauna it supported, a curious admixture of that which could be found in alpine, Mediterranean, and arctic climes, were wonders for the naturalist to behold but worthless to inhabitants seeking to sustain themselves on the land's bounty.  Nevertheless, the island has long been able to defy its hardscrabble character and has demonstrated a talent for economic self-reinvention, all the while retaining its image as pristine, primitive, and inhospitable.By the early 19th century, the denizens of Inishmore had learned to effectively counterbalance the meagerness of their island's natural resources by swiftly focusing on new and evermore efficient ways to exploit them.  For example, the abundance of seaweed off its shores supplied a remedy for the scarcity of soil.  Once most of the boulders were cleared away, the sand could be layered with the seaweed, which, as it rotted, transformed the granular matter into fertile earth in which common crops such as barley, rye, oats, and potatoes have since been cultivated.  More land also meant more livestock could be raised, and the grass-fed calves of the island are still prized by mainlanders.  Seaweed could also be harvested by the ton and burnt in kilns to produce kelp, the sale of which on the mainland continues to be a thriving, if seasonal, industry, often more reliable than fishing.This is not, however, to say that life on the Aran isles was ever easy; in fact, the lifestyle of the inhabitants demanded a delicate equilibrium, and in the face of economic marginality most households resorted to occupational plurality-to include any combination of fishing, agriculture, kelp-making, boat-making, fowling, textiles, and manual labor.  Yet, despite this ever-shifting quest for resources, life on Inishmore even in the 1800s was a far cry from that depicted in Robert J. Flaherty's self-styled documentary film of 1934, Man of Aran, which dramatized the islanders' daily existence as a never-ending and desperate struggle against the elements, particularly the constant apocalyptic threat of the sea.Eighty years later, this image of Aran life endures, perpetuating a myth that has arguably become a commodity as real as the Man of Aran sweater sold on Inishmore but typically knit elsewhere in Ireland-a symbol of the island's dual character, of its commercial nature that so patently contradicts its celebrated identity as isolated and self-sufficient.  Still, the persistence of this image of remoteness, exposure, and inexorable hardship, however fabricated or embellished, has helped the island reinvent its economy as one heavily reliant on the outside-particularly on a tourist industry that brings in as many as 2,000 visitors a day by ferry-rather than self-sufficient. -Based on the passage, the marketing of the Man of Aran sweater indicates that inhabitants of Inishmore are: