instruction:
Write the right answer to the question based on the context passage.
question:
The doctors told me I would be placed on a seventy-two hour hold for observation. Knowing this was the only way out, I obeyed and diligently signed all the papers. I hated my parents but still felt the inescapable drive to prove to them that I was worth something. I had to show them I wasn't crazy. As the hours passed, I was shown to a blank room with plastic sheets and plastic pillows, which caused me to wonder what kind of distant confused souls had been imprisoned in this sterile place. There were bars on the windows and the only door out of the unit was locked 24/7. I knew my only refuge for the time being would be through the hour a day art therapy class and the smoke breaks I could take at will. They had given me a legal pad after my parents had told them of my affinity for writing. With it I set to work on the flow of words and the river of thoughts, both dark and hopeful that careened through my tired mind. Instead of sleep, I would write. I expressed my vicious frustration for the place and thought constantly of the passing hours, counting them down as they went. Because of this I was thankful for the eight to ten I would use up easily in my escapes to the world behind my eyelids. There I was free and could experience a life unhindered by limitations of ethics or gravity. When I'd awake I'd write what I could remember of my escapes on the obtrusive legal pad. I had the suspicion that the attendants would come in and read my thoughts as I was eating meals or watching TV and I wondered if this was hindering my ability to get out. I wondered what kind of opinions and judgments they were forming about me. I had bared my soul on those pages explaining desperately how the thoughts would not leave even in this place, where it mattered most that they were gone. The fuckers would never leave. Maybe I was crazy. Question: Who might have been forming judgments about the speaker?
answer:
attendents

question:
Out of boredom, two scientists from the New Contagious Diseases Research Centre devised themselves a new game. One day, as a result of the suspension of a research project dealing with a dynamically mutating vaccine following the pattern of the eyesocket flu bacillus, they had absolutely nothing to do until the end of the day, because the boss didn't order them to wash test-tubes.
They decided to play a game of hockey under the microscope. For a puck they used one of the millions of experimental bacillus, and one-arm pincettes, which as it happened also resembled hockey sticks, served as sticks.
The bacillus was not happy with it at all. It wanted to rest after an exhausting task involving vaccine discouragement, and these whitecoats here planned to put it to work yet again. And this time the work was much more labor-intensive and even more exhausting than before, but the condition and health of the tired bacillus not as good as in the times of youth, about two hours ago.
The scientists got excited. On a microscope slide they etched a hockey rink with laser, agreed on the rules, connected the microscope's camera to the big screen display and played until the morning. They had to change pucks several times, but that was fine, they had millions of them in stock.
The next day they didn't have anything to do either and they continued to play. They even invited other colleagues and the popularity of the game was so huge they could afford to play it in a championship system. Soon, the games were joined by the guys from the car-repair garage next door. They were tough opponents and even tougher fans - they took from the lab and carried away with them several flasks and some equipment, as it turned out - to set up their own game station in pit number 5. Question: Who played hockey?
answer:
The scientists

question:
At an early meeting of the British Sociological Association's "Activism in Sociology Forum" members met to discuss how we might play a more campaigning role in the world outside the academy. Pragmatically, academics tend to work long hours. We are faced with multiple and competing demands: teaching, administration, publishing, marketing, research, grant-bidding, and so on. The REF has ramped up the requirement to demonstrate the efficacy of our research in "the real world" (our impact upon society, economy, and culture rather than upon knowledge per se, or upon the academic discipline). Maybe here I suggested, as my contribution to the meeting was a chance for those of us interested in progressing social justice to lever officially sanctioned space, in our busy day-to-day lives, to do more of this sort of work? Maybe we should welcome the REF impact agenda?
I learned afterwards that eminent British sociologists, whom I respect enormously, regarded such a viewpoint as "naive" and "embarrassing". Indeed, critics interpret REF as just one mode of the heightened, neoliberal, managerial control that is degrading academic life and infesting universities. So, how should we think about the REF impact agenda?
Because of its obvious connections with social improvement and reform through policy action, social policy is regarded as one disciplinary area that is well-placed to meet and benefit from the impact agenda. Yet there has been surprisingly little concerted discussion amongst scholars about REF and impact. This is despite the fact that many millions of pounds of public funding accrue to the proposed or claimed impact of research (with monies channelled through research councils to individual projects or via regular, six-yearly centralised assessments of the quality of research in university departments). In addition, there is substantial funding directed toward the "impact industry"; the consultants, think tanks, PR firms, funding schemes, new software programmes, impact managers, specialist impact case study authors, etc., that have become embedded in the academy. Question: Who are faced with multiple and competing demands?
answer:
academics