Exam 4: Critical Analysis & Reasoning Skills

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 the passage, the possible existence of Melesigenes is LEAST likely to support the claim that:

Passage People sometimes dance for joy, or report that they are so happy that they could dance for joy.  However, one might wonder why this is so.  What is it about happiness that would lead someone to dance?  What exactly is dancing, when one ponders this activity that might otherwise be taken for granted?  Is it only a human practice, or is dancing something in which other animals also engage?Indeed, some animals do seem to dance, although their reasons for doing so are goal-based.  For instance, bees dance to provide information to other colony members, using complicated movements to describe the location and quality of a food source.  This behavior is not emotive; it would seem odd, if not unscientific, to ascribe an emotive character to such displays.  Nevertheless, these displays are communicative, as are emotive human behaviors.Might this similarity bespeak a common evolutionary basis for the dance of humans and other animals?  Perhaps, although there are differences which cast doubt on that hypothesis.  A bee's dance is its main method of communication, whereas most human communication is vocal.  Even with non-vocal communication such as sign language, the types of bodily movements are qualitatively different than those used in dance, as dance movements signify at most a general feeling or impression rather than corresponding to specific words or ideas.  If the bee's dance functions like human sign language (albeit in a much less sophisticated form), it is questionable whether it is an appropriate analogue to human dance at all; the term "dance" would be simply a weak metaphor.  If the bee's dance is a type of language, then it is not the same sort of thing as human dance.Still, there are other types of animal behaviors that might more aptly be called dances.  Many animals engage in courtship displays of varying complexity, in which carefully choreographed movements are designed to win the favor of a potential mate.  Historically, a connection between human dance and courtship has also been assumed, and often cautioned against.  For instance, in the 1950s Elvis was denounced by parents as a corrupting influence upon the young women who swooned over him, and some of his dance moves were censored.  People often voice similar concerns with regard to the behavior of crowds in nightclubs and explicit lyrics in popular music.  Many believe that such an outcry may also be heard in the future, as the struggle of parental restraint against youthful vigor continues.It should not be thought, however, that all amorous dancing is subject to condemnation.  Weddings include dance as a matter of custom, suggesting a long-standing endorsement within socially approved couplings.  Through social tradition or natural instinct, dance seems linked with romance in the human mind.  Nevertheless, such a connection is clearly not the whole story.  One of the most fundamental uses of dance is the physical expression of music-a language not of words, but emotion.If music expresses emotion and dance expresses music, then, do we dance not only "for joy" but for all emotions?  Seemingly not, but why?  Certainly music itself conveys a wide spectrum of feelings.  Although we do not dance "for sadness" or "for anger," we do droop our bodies or clench our fists, and perhaps more subtle emotions produce other physical markers.  Still, happiness too can be seen in a smile, and to actually dance for joy is comparatively rare.  Is dance then truly an entity unto itself?  Or, is it merely one instance of a wider class of physical behaviors? -Based on passage information, which of the following assertions would be most justified?

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." -Based on passage information, which of the following inferences can most reasonably be drawn about the Mirror Stage?

Passage At the forefront of the modernist poetry movement were T. S. Eliot, Wallace Stevens, and others, such as Ezra Pound, whose injunction, "Make it new!" characterized their artistic approach.  Hindered by the same internal conflict plaguing many intellectuals within the cultural upheavals of the time, these poets felt, on one level, that old linguistic certainties had evaporated and new forms must be embraced.  Yet many of them, particularly the later modernist poets, maintained a sentimental attachment to all that had been lost from the cultural certitude of earlier eras, their despondency reflected in much of their work.  At the periphery of the movement were E. E. Cummings and Robert Frost, who were named among modernist poets largely for the chronological classification of their poetry and not necessarily for their style or means of artistic production.A self-titled "poet" and "painter," Cummings was beyond his time in his efforts to innovate.  He would become well known for his erratic applications of punctuation and syntax, and, later, for his visual configurations of words.  Much of Cummings' writing also used idiosyncratic similes and metaphors.  This style, which later evolved to include symbolism and allegory, caused even some of the most progressive modernists to dismiss his work as eccentric, self-indulgent, and lacking depth.  However, as a quintessential dissenter, Cummings remained unaffected by the reactions of his contemporaries and focused more on creating a graphic effect with words.To Cummings, the artist was not one who discerns or describes, but one who feels.  He often contrasted the "doing" of others-scientists in particular-to the "being" of the artist.  Compared to what he defined as the "nonartist," Cummings held that the artist must be original, self-reliant, and free to live according to his or her own truth.  For Cummings, this meant disentanglement from any shackles of societal standards, ranging from the man-made notions of reality and reason to traditional literary conventions.Contrarily, Frost believed that a true poet could-and should-achieve poetic excellence without resorting to what he described as the "new ways of being new."  Consequently, his poetry was composed of ordinary sounds that derived from conventional language.  Although many contemporary critics dismissed his work as overly simplistic, or "too near the level of talk," Frost remained unperturbed by such views, holding that poetry sprang from the natural intonations of a person's voice and should remain true to traditional forms.Frost claimed that "a poem begins with delight, it inclines to the impulse, it assumes direction with the first line laid down."  This conception of a poem led Frost to elucidate that, behind the scenes, the poet must always approach writing intimately and organically, allowing the words to originate seamlessly from "a lump in the throat, a homesickness, a loneliness."  Provoking both poet and reader to recollect an oft-distant truth lingering in some obscure region of the brain, this practice culminates in wisdom that may be profound or just a momentary reprieve from the world.Uncompromising and not always popular, Frost and Cummings nevertheless mingled with the literary elite and developed long-term acquaintances with Ezra Pound, who especially championed Frost's literary career.  Each shared with other modernist poets an opposition to the scientific rationalism and commercialist vulgarity that had infiltrated Western culture after the Industrial Revolution.  Yet both poets also continued to exhibit a commitment to the role of nonconformist and favored aspects of the Romantic poetry movement-namely, the significance of the individual's experience and the rejection of societal scrutiny-over the tormenting self-doubt that had beset their peers.  Thus, even in an age defined by its pure and absolute originality, Frost and Cummings occupied unique positions within the modernist poetry movement. -As used in the passage, the term "injunction" is closest in meaning to:

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." -According to Paragraph 3, some people speculated that Agatha Christie:

Passage Of the myriad problems facing translators, perhaps the most significant lies in the tension between what a text conveys and the words used to convey it.  Strict fidelity to the specific words of a text often fails to capture the full sense of its meaning.  Beyond this loss of meaning can also arise a loss of artistry and structural features which often cannot be replicated.For instance, a fully evocative rendering of the 119th Psalm seems unattainable.  Comprising twenty-two strophes of eight lines each, the one hundred and seventy-six verses do appear somewhat poetic in translation.  But in the original Hebrew the Psalm is an acrostic: the verses of the first strophe all begin with the letter Aleph, those of the second with Beth, and so on, with Tav, the last letter of the alphabet, commencing the final eight verses.  The reader of a translation would, understandably, be ignorant of this fact.  While this does not affect the essential meaning of the verses, it does affect their character-something is lost from the original in its non-native presentation.  Although there have been occasional attempts to mimic this structure in other languages, they have all been unsuccessful.  The tortured and unnatural wording that results proves the wisdom of most translators in prioritizing readability.  Nevertheless, the Psalmist wrote with a particular purpose that is left untransmitted.  The sacrifice of the acrostic, however necessary, is regrettable.Another concern is what might be called translational multiplicity.  Argentinian writer Jorge Luis Borges famously remarked: "The Quixote, due to my congenital practice of Spanish, is a uniform monument, with no other variations… the Odyssey, thanks to my opportune ignorance of Greek, is an international bookstore of works in prose and verse."  To speak of "the" Odyssey, or more generally, "the" text of any work, runs headlong into the reality that for translated works, "the text" is not a unitary entity but a collection of candidates.  Thus, a perennial difficulty of translation is conveyed through Borges' idiosyncratic presentation.  Or is it?  For Borges' remarks are elsewhere listed as: "Since Spanish is my native language, the Quixote is to me an unchanging monument, with no possible variations….  But the Odyssey, thanks to my opportune ignorance of Greek, is a library of works in prose and verse."  That we might ask which of these translations more closely represents his actual words is a fact that Borges would likely have found amusing.Considerations of this sort are magnified when one approaches the writings not only of individual authors, but of past civilizations.  Despite being one of the world's foremost sinologists, the late D. C. Lau was convinced that none of us truly understand classical Chinese.  The sentiment was no mere expression of modesty; fellow scholar Roger Ames described Lau as "[h]aving assimilated the classical corpus through a lifetime of careful study and reflection."  Rather, Lau was keenly aware of the difficult truth that the fluidity of language and culture over time can shroud the works of the ancients in obscurities that may be inscrutable to even their most passionately curious descendants.Modern works may also be altered, however, and sometimes through more subtle types of translation.  The book known as Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone in England was changed to refer instead to the "Sorcerer's Stone" in the United States, reportedly due to a belief that the original title would be unpalatable to an American audience.  While that depressing assumption may indeed have been correct, the change removes a titular connection to a pre-existing myth.  The generic fantasy idea with which it is replaced thus fails to embody the full character of the original work. -The passage suggests that Simeon's pioneering stint in vertical reclusion:elicited displeasure from contemporary authorities.offered Tennyson a powerful emblem of self-glorifying martyrdom.may have served for Alypius partly as a goal for which to strive.

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. -Which of the following pieces of information would be most important to know in order to evaluate the author's argument?

Passage The word "edutainment" refers to educational entertainment, media designed to educate while entertaining the audience.  One of the more successful of such enterprises was Square One, a television show that aired in the 1980s and 1990s.  Focusing on mathematics, Square One aimed to instruct elementary school children in a way that captured their attention and made them eager to learn.  Such objectives are common to most attempts at teaching.  But well-made educational entertainment goes a step further than simply trying to make learning enjoyable; ideally, the program is of a quality such that audiences find it worthwhile to watch for its entertainment value alone.Square One approached this goal in a number of ways, its iconic music videos being one of the most memorable.  Songs like "Angle Dance" and "Less Than Zero" described concepts such as acuteness or negative numbers, while the lyrics of "Archimedes" lauded the mathematical insights of that famous thinker.  Most of the songs contained humorous elements: the exhausted singers of "That's Infinity" tried vainly to reach the largest number, while "Eight Percent of My Love" saw a boy serenade his girlfriend about the small fraction of love he could give her (having already given away 92 percent to friends, the USA, his bicycle, and other things).  All of the songs boasted high production values and talented performers, subconsciously encouraging viewers to continue humming their lessons to themselves even after the show's closing credits.The creativity of these songs featured popular culture aspects that were often more noticeable to parents than to the child viewers themselves.  For instance, adults could easily guess that "Ghost of a Chance" (a song about probability) was inspired by Michael Jackson's "Thriller," and "Juan Cougar" was a reference to an actual singer, John Cougar Mellencamp.  Other parts of the show included similar references.  Details such as these functioned as a bonus, however, as the target audience found the material compelling despite not grasping all the references that elicited smiles from their elders.  Cabot and Marshmallow's "What's in a Name?" was comedic even without knowledge of the famous Abbott and Costello "Who's on First?" skit from which it was derived.  The math-based detective work of "Mathnet" was amusing and instructional even to those too young to have seen Dragnet.In addition to the music, skits, cartoons, and parodies constituting many of the program's segments, game shows were another way in which Square One imparted instruction.  The prizes were unexciting (everyday apparel bearing the Square One logo), but that was to be expected for a production that aired on public broadcasting.  Of course, the prizes were also not the point.  Part of the draw of a commercial game show may be a fabulous package of expensive prizes and money, but the game shows of Square One focused on education.In light of that distinction, one can imagine the most typical criticism of any educational entertainment program.  Education and entertainment are, at their cores, not aimed at the same ends.  Whether it is the worse crime to be insufficiently didactic or to be excessively didactic may depend on whom one asks; either way, one might worry that a work attempting to impart both amusement and instruction would ultimately fail in at least one of those objectives.  Yet Square One was that rare instance in which both goals were met.  Many children who disliked mathematics in school still enjoyed viewing a show with songs and skits about the subject, and for those who already enjoyed mathematics, all the better.  Teachers had good reason to be happy about the show's existence, and its lively presentation of educational concepts can surely be credited with the improved academic performance of many students. -The claim in Paragraph 1 that a well-made educational entertainment program would be "worthwhile to watch for its entertainment value alone" suggests that:

Passage To consult diverse interpretations is beneficial, especially in literature purporting to speak to the fundaments of human experience.  Reviewing alternative readings not only undermines complacency in scholarship, it reminds us that questions of meaning should seldom be viewed as settled but instead as suggestive of various avenues of discovery.Nevertheless, another pitfall lies at the opposite extreme.  The fear of missing genuine interpretive possibilities may lead one to imagine more differences in readings than truly exist, obscuring a hidden homogeneity among seemingly divergent understandings.  It has been said that to truly understand a people one must synthesize its stories; we must also acknowledge that to truly understand a story one must synthesize its interpretations.David McKee's deceptively rich Not Now, Bernard is an instructive example.  The plot initially concerns the futile attempts of a child to gain his parents' attention, to which, no matter the circumstance, the busy adults invariably reply: "Not now, Bernard."  The culmination of these encounters comes when Bernard informs them of a monster outside that wants to eat him, only to receive the same dismissive response.  Bernard walks into the yard and approaches the monster, whereupon "The monster ate Bernard up, every bit."The reader's shock at this turn of events is only increased upon seeing the reaction of Bernard's parents, who are entirely unfazed.  Indeed, they are entirely unaware.  The monster enters the house, eats Bernard's dinner, breaks Bernard's toy, and even bites Bernard's father, all the while finding itself just as ignored as Bernard had been.  Finally facing the indignity of being tucked into bed, the monster complains: "But I'm a monster," only to be told-naturally-"Not now, Bernard."Marina Warner views this delightfully savage story as informed by the same primal motivations which produced the carnivorous fiends of traditional fairy tales.  Referencing the psychoanalytic theories of Melanie Klein, Warner writes: "the ogre who used to stalk children has now been internalized as the image of inner compulsions, especially greed and the ferocious survival instinct….  [I]t is the child who can be understood to be the potentially insatiable devourer, the possible monster of greed and gratification and excess."  Bernard's parents "cannot tell the difference between a tiny tot and an angry beast because the two are all the same to them: that is how they see Bernard."  Thus Warner casts McKee's tale as an incisive commentary on "parents who are so automatic in their oblivion-and rejection-that they do not notice when their child has been eaten."Intriguingly, writer Sheila Hancock assumes that Bernard's parents are not oblivious.  On her interpretation no one has been eaten and replaced; rather, the monster is Bernard.  It is worth noting that of the two lines spoken by the monster, the first is simply "ROAR," a bestial vocalization that makes little impression upon Bernard's mother ("Not now, Bernard").  The human-sounding "But I'm a monster" comes later, after a series of events in which the presence of a monster in the house has been treated as unremarkable.  The apparent powerlessness of the monster to be perceived as anything but mundane suggests it could be merely the external manifestation of the child's frustrated psyche.Even so, Hancock's view would not completely absolve Bernard's parents, who consistently ignore their son even if they do not literally allow him to be devoured.  Nor does the story lose its significance on Hancock's symbolic interpretation of events; rather, the latent psychological motivations identified by Warner would be just as operant.  Hence, whether the monster is literal or metaphorical, these seemingly divergent interpretations in fact exhibit a clear and striking coherence. -The author most likely refers to the monster's "bestial vocalization" (Paragraph 6) in order to:

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's argument would be most challenged if which of the following were determined about lengthening the school day?

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 information in the passage, Japanese culture used the tea ceremony to accomplish which of the following?I)                    Encourage enlightenmentII)                  Inspire artistsIII)                Support political status

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." -Why does the author ask readers to "imagine that the die has not six but six billion sides" (Paragraph 5)?

Passage At the forefront of the modernist poetry movement were T. S. Eliot, Wallace Stevens, and others, such as Ezra Pound, whose injunction, "Make it new!" characterized their artistic approach.  Hindered by the same internal conflict plaguing many intellectuals within the cultural upheavals of the time, these poets felt, on one level, that old linguistic certainties had evaporated and new forms must be embraced.  Yet many of them, particularly the later modernist poets, maintained a sentimental attachment to all that had been lost from the cultural certitude of earlier eras, their despondency reflected in much of their work.  At the periphery of the movement were E. E. Cummings and Robert Frost, who were named among modernist poets largely for the chronological classification of their poetry and not necessarily for their style or means of artistic production.A self-titled "poet" and "painter," Cummings was beyond his time in his efforts to innovate.  He would become well known for his erratic applications of punctuation and syntax, and, later, for his visual configurations of words.  Much of Cummings' writing also used idiosyncratic similes and metaphors.  This style, which later evolved to include symbolism and allegory, caused even some of the most progressive modernists to dismiss his work as eccentric, self-indulgent, and lacking depth.  However, as a quintessential dissenter, Cummings remained unaffected by the reactions of his contemporaries and focused more on creating a graphic effect with words.To Cummings, the artist was not one who discerns or describes, but one who feels.  He often contrasted the "doing" of others-scientists in particular-to the "being" of the artist.  Compared to what he defined as the "nonartist," Cummings held that the artist must be original, self-reliant, and free to live according to his or her own truth.  For Cummings, this meant disentanglement from any shackles of societal standards, ranging from the man-made notions of reality and reason to traditional literary conventions.Contrarily, Frost believed that a true poet could-and should-achieve poetic excellence without resorting to what he described as the "new ways of being new."  Consequently, his poetry was composed of ordinary sounds that derived from conventional language.  Although many contemporary critics dismissed his work as overly simplistic, or "too near the level of talk," Frost remained unperturbed by such views, holding that poetry sprang from the natural intonations of a person's voice and should remain true to traditional forms.Frost claimed that "a poem begins with delight, it inclines to the impulse, it assumes direction with the first line laid down."  This conception of a poem led Frost to elucidate that, behind the scenes, the poet must always approach writing intimately and organically, allowing the words to originate seamlessly from "a lump in the throat, a homesickness, a loneliness."  Provoking both poet and reader to recollect an oft-distant truth lingering in some obscure region of the brain, this practice culminates in wisdom that may be profound or just a momentary reprieve from the world.Uncompromising and not always popular, Frost and Cummings nevertheless mingled with the literary elite and developed long-term acquaintances with Ezra Pound, who especially championed Frost's literary career.  Each shared with other modernist poets an opposition to the scientific rationalism and commercialist vulgarity that had infiltrated Western culture after the Industrial Revolution.  Yet both poets also continued to exhibit a commitment to the role of nonconformist and favored aspects of the Romantic poetry movement-namely, the significance of the individual's experience and the rejection of societal scrutiny-over the tormenting self-doubt that had beset their peers.  Thus, even in an age defined by its pure and absolute originality, Frost and Cummings occupied unique positions within the modernist poetry movement. -Based on passage information, which of the following claims about egg donation could most easily be challenged by contradictory evidence?

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 main point of Paragraph 1 is that:

Passage Christ Church, a colonial-era Anglican church near Weems, Virginia, is far from a typical house of worship.  Completed in 1735, the building has been conjectured by some to be based on a prototype by the renowned English architect Christopher Wren-indeed, it bears a more than canny resemblance to Farley Church in Wiltshire, England, which Wren designed back in the 1660s.  Christ Church was originally an unassuming wooden construct commissioned in 1665 by John Carter, a wealthy Virginia tobacco planter who sailed from his native England to American shores in 1635.  In 1730, his son Robert-who had by then become one of the wealthiest and most influential figures in the region-was determined to replace the wooden structure with a brick one.  He died in 1732, leaving three male offspring to oversee the completion of what experts would later hail as "the most finely crafted Anglican parish church in all of colonial Virginia."  Historical websites laud the church as "an extraordinary example of eighteenth-century architecture, featuring meticulous brickwork, vaulted ceilings, and gorgeous compass-headed windows."  Notably, it also contains a triple-decker pulpit-a rare but distinctive feature of its era.  In recent decades, however, Christ Church has become an object of interest more for what it conceals than for what it reveals.The remarkable intricacies of this church's architecture point to its dual nature as not just a religious sanctuary, but as a veritable temple to the Enlightenment, a kind of shrine to rationality.  Beneath its surface, Christ Church represents an architectural feat of mathematical precision in harmony with nature's laws.  In fact, horologist H. Stephen Stewart has characterized it as "a building of numbers"-specifically, calendric, solar, and lunar numbers.  As Stewart explains, two weeks after the vernal equinox, on the mean date for Easter, a sunbeam shines through the oval window above the main entrance that faces due west and rests upon the altar; this phenomenon repeats itself two weeks prior to the autumnal equinox.  Additionally, a shadow cast from a cornice of the church tracks the progression from spring to fall as it moves vertically along the church's outer west wall at the pace of a single row of bricks per day.  Moreover, for eight hours each day, the building serves as a sundial, casting its shadow on its north lawn.  This seemingly multifunctional edifice has been aptly pronounced "a time machine" by Stewart.The church's locale and physical orientation are critical; not just any site could have offered the perfect astronomical alignment.  Yet, as journalist Joy Aschenbach describes, "The Church's location was a rather lonely one, with woods all around, few or no houses near, and no good roads."  Its geographical remoteness and splendid isolation are reminiscent of another unusual sanctuary, the fifth-century BCE Temple to Apollo, the god of the sun and rationality, at Bassae in Greece.  As with the church, the temple's structure has been attributed to a famous architect, Iktynos, designer of the Athenian Parthenon.  Thrust deep into the countryside, it sits atop Kotylion Mountain, holding dominion over a desolate landscape through which, until the last century, no truly passable road led.  Thus, virtually inaccessible, the imposing sanctuary stood long forgotten.  In contemporary times it has been under restoration and studied for how, positioned north to south rather than east to west, it tracks the annual phases of the sun.  Likewise, Christ Church has resurged from encroaching dilapidation to bask in "lonely majesty" even as scientists figure the calculus of its blueprint.Clearly neither of these structures acquired its characteristics through happenstance.  The spaces created are at once pragmatic and sacred, their purposes overtly divine even while their designs honor nature and extol reason. -The author views the willingness of scholars to overlook the "deficiency" in Putnam's argument as:

Passage To consult diverse interpretations is beneficial, especially in literature purporting to speak to the fundaments of human experience.  Reviewing alternative readings not only undermines complacency in scholarship, it reminds us that questions of meaning should seldom be viewed as settled but instead as suggestive of various avenues of discovery.Nevertheless, another pitfall lies at the opposite extreme.  The fear of missing genuine interpretive possibilities may lead one to imagine more differences in readings than truly exist, obscuring a hidden homogeneity among seemingly divergent understandings.  It has been said that to truly understand a people one must synthesize its stories; we must also acknowledge that to truly understand a story one must synthesize its interpretations.David McKee's deceptively rich Not Now, Bernard is an instructive example.  The plot initially concerns the futile attempts of a child to gain his parents' attention, to which, no matter the circumstance, the busy adults invariably reply: "Not now, Bernard."  The culmination of these encounters comes when Bernard informs them of a monster outside that wants to eat him, only to receive the same dismissive response.  Bernard walks into the yard and approaches the monster, whereupon "The monster ate Bernard up, every bit."The reader's shock at this turn of events is only increased upon seeing the reaction of Bernard's parents, who are entirely unfazed.  Indeed, they are entirely unaware.  The monster enters the house, eats Bernard's dinner, breaks Bernard's toy, and even bites Bernard's father, all the while finding itself just as ignored as Bernard had been.  Finally facing the indignity of being tucked into bed, the monster complains: "But I'm a monster," only to be told-naturally-"Not now, Bernard."Marina Warner views this delightfully savage story as informed by the same primal motivations which produced the carnivorous fiends of traditional fairy tales.  Referencing the psychoanalytic theories of Melanie Klein, Warner writes: "the ogre who used to stalk children has now been internalized as the image of inner compulsions, especially greed and the ferocious survival instinct….  [I]t is the child who can be understood to be the potentially insatiable devourer, the possible monster of greed and gratification and excess."  Bernard's parents "cannot tell the difference between a tiny tot and an angry beast because the two are all the same to them: that is how they see Bernard."  Thus Warner casts McKee's tale as an incisive commentary on "parents who are so automatic in their oblivion-and rejection-that they do not notice when their child has been eaten."Intriguingly, writer Sheila Hancock assumes that Bernard's parents are not oblivious.  On her interpretation no one has been eaten and replaced; rather, the monster is Bernard.  It is worth noting that of the two lines spoken by the monster, the first is simply "ROAR," a bestial vocalization that makes little impression upon Bernard's mother ("Not now, Bernard").  The human-sounding "But I'm a monster" comes later, after a series of events in which the presence of a monster in the house has been treated as unremarkable.  The apparent powerlessness of the monster to be perceived as anything but mundane suggests it could be merely the external manifestation of the child's frustrated psyche.Even so, Hancock's view would not completely absolve Bernard's parents, who consistently ignore their son even if they do not literally allow him to be devoured.  Nor does the story lose its significance on Hancock's symbolic interpretation of events; rather, the latent psychological motivations identified by Warner would be just as operant.  Hence, whether the monster is literal or metaphorical, these seemingly divergent interpretations in fact exhibit a clear and striking coherence. -Literary scholarship has always included debate about how to conceive of the standard interpretation of a work.  Which of the following conceptions most closely reflects the author's view 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 passage author most likely mentions that James "had himself delved into spiritualism" in Paragraph 3 in order to:

Passage Because frequent consumption of unhealthy foods is strongly linked with cardiometabolic diseases, one way for governments to combat those afflictions may be to modify the eating habits of the general public.  Applying economic incentives or disincentives to various types of foods could potentially alter people's diets, leading to more positive health outcomes.Utilizing national data from 2012 regarding food consumption, health, and economic status, Peñalvo et al. concluded that such price adjustments would help to prevent deaths related to cardiometabolic diseases.  According to their analysis, increasing the prices of unhealthy foods such as processed meats and sugary sodas by 10%, while reducing the prices of healthy foods such as fruit and vegetables by 10%, would prevent an estimated 3.4% of yearly deaths in the U.S.  Changing prices by 30% would have an even stronger effect, preventing an estimated 9.2% of yearly deaths.  This data comports with that found in other countries: "These results are in line with previous modeling studies in South Africa and India, where a 20% SSB [sugar-sweetened beverage] tax was estimated to reduce diabetes prevalence by 4% over 20 years."  The effects of price adjustments would be most pronounced on persons of lower socioeconomic status, as the researchers "found an overall 18.2% higher price-responsiveness for low versus high SES groups."This differential effect based on socioeconomic status contributes to concerns about such interventions, however.  In Harvard Public Health Review, Kates and Hayward ask: "Well-intentioned though they may be, at what point do these taxes overstep government influence on an individual's right to autonomy in decision-making?  On whom does the increased financial burden of this taxation fall?"  They note that taxes on sugar-sweetened beverages, for instance, "are likely to have a greater impact on low-income individuals…because individuals in those settings are more likely to be beholden to cost when making decisions about food."However, "well-intentioned though they may be," the worries that Kates and Hayward express are to some extent misguided.  In particular, the idea that taxing unhealthy foods would burden those least able to afford it misses the point.  Although the increased taxes would affect anyone who continued to purchase the items despite the higher prices, the goal of raising prices on unhealthy foods is precisely to dissuade people from buying them.  As Kates and Hayward themselves remark, "those in low-income environments may also be the largest consumers of obesogenic foods and therefore most likely to benefit from such a lifestyle change indirectly posed by SSB taxes."  As the goal of the taxes is to promote those lifestyle changes, the financial burden objection is a non-starter.Given this recognition, the question regarding autonomy constitutes a more substantial issue.  Nevertheless, that concern also rests on a dubious assumption, as people's autonomy is not necessarily respected in the current situation either.  The fact that those of lower socioeconomic status are more likely to have poorer diets suggests that such persons' food choices are the result of financial constraint, not fully autonomous, rational deliberation.  Hence, by making healthy foods more affordable relative to unhealthy ones, government intervention might actually facilitate autonomous choices rather than hindering them.On the other hand, suppose that the disproportionate consumption of unhealthy foods-and associated higher incidence of disease-among certain groups is not the result of financial hardship but rather the result of those persons' perceived self-interest.  If so, that would suggest that members of these groups are being encouraged to persist in harmful dietary habits for the sake of corporate profits.  In that case, violating autonomy for the sake of health may be permissible anyway, as that practice would be morally preferable to the present system of corporate exploitation. -Suppose that despite the author's argument, a government remained reluctant to risk violating citizens' autonomy.  Which of the following possibilities represents the most reasonable compromise between the author's public health goals and the concerns raised by Kates and Hayward?

Passage Since its origins in India around the 5th century C.E., the game of chess has gradually evolved into the modern form now played across the globe.  Although most people have some idea of what chess entails, there are many misconceptions about its practice.  For instance, a non-player might wonder about the maximum number of moves that can be planned in advance, but an experienced player would find that question naïve.  The unsatisfying but accurate answer is that it depends on the position, because the opponent's potential moves will at some points require calculating numerous possibilities but at other points will be an entirely forced sequence.  Similarly, a common scenario in fiction is for a player to defeat an opponent by sudden surprise-the rival's look of confidence morphing into complete disbelief as the winner unexpectedly proclaims "Checkmate."  In real chess such abrupt triumph occurs rarely or never, as the inevitability of checkmate will have been readily apparent to both sides.Checkmate is the primary goal of chess, but it is not the only way in which games may end, nor even the only way in which games may be won.  Indeed, at higher levels of play checkmate is uncommon, because the losing side typically resigns rather than prolong an unavoidable defeat by playing until checkmate has occurred.  One may also win "by flag" if the opponent runs out of time.  Nonetheless, not all games of chess result in a win for either side.  A draw may ensue by agreement of the players, by stalemate, or under certain other conditions.Public discourse about chess can occasionally veer into the ridiculous.  In 1912, it was reported that a move made by chess champion Frank Marshall elicited such admiration from onlookers that they showered gold pieces onto the board.  While the move may indeed be considered a brilliancy (thought by some to be the most beautiful chess move ever played), the story must otherwise be spurious.  Even supposing that the viewers were so impressed as to engage in such specific and effusive praise, precisely how much gold were they supposed to have had?At one time, the prospect of machines playing chess was widely deemed absurd.  Writer Edgar Allan Poe declared that its impossibility could be established a priori because, unlike the steps of a mathematical demonstration, "[n]o one move in chess necessarily follows upon any one other."  In the early 19th century, a human-shaped machine labeled "The Turk" toured the United States as a supposed chess-playing automaton.  Although its owner claimed and seemed to prove that it was purely mechanical, Poe correctly concluded that the device was actually operated by a real person hidden inside its cabinet.  Despite this subterfuge, however, machine chess was not fundamentally impossible as Poe believed.  The early chess computers of the 1960s possessed only limited abilities, but by 1997 IBM's "Deep Blue" had defeated world champion Garry Kasparov.  Today, the strongest chess computers are unbeatable in fair contests by even the most skilled human grandmasters.Nevertheless, however unassailable in the realm of calculation, computers will always lack the most valuable trait of any chess player.  Blaise Pascal once wrote: "When the universe has crushed him man will still be nobler than that which kills him, because he knows that he is dying, and of its victory the universe knows nothing."  In a similar sense, although computers may "win" at chess, they can never experience their victory.  The artistry of a move like Marshall's will forever be lost on them, while a human being can view and partake in its beauty, making the enjoyment of chess a distinctly human pleasure. -Which of the following is an assumption in the passage?

Passage The word "edutainment" refers to educational entertainment, media designed to educate while entertaining the audience.  One of the more successful of such enterprises was Square One, a television show that aired in the 1980s and 1990s.  Focusing on mathematics, Square One aimed to instruct elementary school children in a way that captured their attention and made them eager to learn.  Such objectives are common to most attempts at teaching.  But well-made educational entertainment goes a step further than simply trying to make learning enjoyable; ideally, the program is of a quality such that audiences find it worthwhile to watch for its entertainment value alone.Square One approached this goal in a number of ways, its iconic music videos being one of the most memorable.  Songs like "Angle Dance" and "Less Than Zero" described concepts such as acuteness or negative numbers, while the lyrics of "Archimedes" lauded the mathematical insights of that famous thinker.  Most of the songs contained humorous elements: the exhausted singers of "That's Infinity" tried vainly to reach the largest number, while "Eight Percent of My Love" saw a boy serenade his girlfriend about the small fraction of love he could give her (having already given away 92 percent to friends, the USA, his bicycle, and other things).  All of the songs boasted high production values and talented performers, subconsciously encouraging viewers to continue humming their lessons to themselves even after the show's closing credits.The creativity of these songs featured popular culture aspects that were often more noticeable to parents than to the child viewers themselves.  For instance, adults could easily guess that "Ghost of a Chance" (a song about probability) was inspired by Michael Jackson's "Thriller," and "Juan Cougar" was a reference to an actual singer, John Cougar Mellencamp.  Other parts of the show included similar references.  Details such as these functioned as a bonus, however, as the target audience found the material compelling despite not grasping all the references that elicited smiles from their elders.  Cabot and Marshmallow's "What's in a Name?" was comedic even without knowledge of the famous Abbott and Costello "Who's on First?" skit from which it was derived.  The math-based detective work of "Mathnet" was amusing and instructional even to those too young to have seen Dragnet.In addition to the music, skits, cartoons, and parodies constituting many of the program's segments, game shows were another way in which Square One imparted instruction.  The prizes were unexciting (everyday apparel bearing the Square One logo), but that was to be expected for a production that aired on public broadcasting.  Of course, the prizes were also not the point.  Part of the draw of a commercial game show may be a fabulous package of expensive prizes and money, but the game shows of Square One focused on education.In light of that distinction, one can imagine the most typical criticism of any educational entertainment program.  Education and entertainment are, at their cores, not aimed at the same ends.  Whether it is the worse crime to be insufficiently didactic or to be excessively didactic may depend on whom one asks; either way, one might worry that a work attempting to impart both amusement and instruction would ultimately fail in at least one of those objectives.  Yet Square One was that rare instance in which both goals were met.  Many children who disliked mathematics in school still enjoyed viewing a show with songs and skits about the subject, and for those who already enjoyed mathematics, all the better.  Teachers had good reason to be happy about the show's existence, and its lively presentation of educational concepts can surely be credited with the improved academic performance of many students. -What is the main point of the passage?