Shortly after five, the hospital called. More precisely, the emergency room phoned to ask if Ray had a bed. Ray pretended to consult his admission log, just as he always did. The nightly hospital call meant one of three things: the chemical dependency floor was full (highly unlikely), the individual in question had fallen under the hospital's "one treatment episode every three months" sanction (also known as the Black List, and only moderately unlikely), or the prospective client had no insurance (in Ray's experience, very likely). The folks at the hospital knew, as did Ray, that federal law prohibited him from turning away individuals requesting detoxification services if he had an open bed. The hospital was generous enough to spring for a cab voucher for the intoxicate. In Ray's experience as well, overnight admissions were less interested in detox than in free food, a free bed and complimentary meds. For his two hour paperwork investment and aggravation, he would receive the benefit of knowing the client slept until noon then slipped out the side door and into another binge. Any bills for service generated for the brief stay would return in a week or so stamped "No Such Address" or simply "Return to Sender". On average, the clients of addictions services managed to muster a raging 25% of them who would ever pay a dime toward their bill. The night shift admission payment percentages were a quarter of that quarter in good years. Thus, the frequent calls from the hospital. They had little better luck in getting good addresses (or even with those, a client who stayed sober long enough to give a shit). No one relished treating the uninsured and uninsurable. It was fiscal suicide. The hospital was perfectly willing to let the local experts in deadbeats handle the workload. Tonight, Ray could tell them no. He liked telling them no, especially when it was the truth. What is Ray's job title? - Service manager - not enough information - Admissions clerk - Social worker
not enough information

(Question)
I'm going to take something that happened to my daughter for this answer. Billie Jo (our daughter) was probably around ten years old when it happened. We had a young Black Labrador dog who had become quite smitten with chewing things up that she wasn't supposed to. The list grew longer as the months passed. Looker, our black lab, had chewed up and eaten a $10 bill, my VCR remote control (probably around 1987), and a sticker-filled blackberry vine my wife had planted. How she did that one without serious repercussions is beyond me. She also had a habit of grabbing the mail as it slid through the slot that was in our front door, taking it out back and 'sorting' it for us. So what happened really came as no big surprise. My daughter was a very diligent student, never wanting to let down her teachers by not turning her homework in as soon as she got to school (at least until she hit 14). One morning our daughter was trying to find the math homework that she knew she had completed the night before. My wife assisted in the search and soon found a partially chewed up piece of our daughter's homework page. Our daughter was devastated! How could she possibly walk in to school and publicly announce, "My dog ate my homework!" without becoming the laughing stock of the school? Like this: Mama Bear (my wife) storms into the classroom and vehemently upholds our daughter's "dog ate my homework" bit, showing the teacher the half eaten paper. Funny thing was, the teacher would have never doubted our little girl for one minute. Back then, Billie Jo was the sweetest, cutest, most polite and well mannered child a parent could possibly hope for. And her teachers loved her. So, if you have partial proof, it can be a valid excuse. How long did it take to do the homework? - not enough information - one hour - a weekend - all day
(Answer)
one hour

Ques: Marnie Sleightholme was well chuffed when she got the chance to be carnival queen, and she couldn't give a shit if it was true what folk were saying about her only getting picked because she'd had her right arm ripped off. Ever since the accident, Deborah Bullock had been using twice as much make-up to disguise her rage. Marnie being picked as carnival queen had only made her pile it on even thicker. Deborah Bullock told anyone who would listen how it was a complete piss-take to give the job to a cripple. 'Imagine getting a wedding cake covered in frosty decorations and shit like that, but it's already got a big chunk bitten out of it. Well, that's exactly how it is.' Deborah Bullock had dreamed of being carnival queen since more or less the start of primary school. She used to tear their pictures out of the newspaper and dress up to look like them, and tell Marnie she never could because she was too fat and ugly even to pretend. It was Deborah Bullock's on-off boyfriend who'd been driving the car Marnie had been sitting in when it veered off the road and crashed into a tree halfway down Back South Lane. It was pointless trying to hide the truth. There was only one reason anybody went down Back South Lane at that time of night, and the flashing blue lights illuminated the exact location for the whole town to see. When Marnie came round in a hospital bed, the first face she saw was Deborah Bullock's. She felt an ache in her side and blinked her eyes. The room was bare and cold. There was an empty chair in the corner. Deborah Bullock slapped some cheap flowers down on the bed and leaned in. She smelled of talcum powder and nicotine. 'Do you want the good news or the bad news? The good news is you've finally lost some weight. The bad news is, they've chopped your right arm off. So you're still a fat bitch.' What does Deborah tells Marnie the good news is? - Marnie won carnival queen - Marnie finally lost some weight - Marnie is still alive - not enough information
Ans: Marnie finally lost some weight

There is no hiding from the impact agenda. The impact weighting of the Research Excellence Framework has been increased for 2021, and more recently the UK Government announced a new funding stream for knowledge exchange. But achieving impact isn't easy, especially for researchers early in their careers. If you ever have a spare week, or ten, it's worth reading through some of the 6,637 REF impact case studies on the HEFCE website. There are some brilliant and fascinating examples of how researchers have achieved impact, but what strikes me most is how different impact looks across different subjects. At the risk of being flippant, among many of the medical or technological examples there is a familiar pattern and a clear route to impact: make breakthrough; license drug/technology; save lives/millions. For social and political science (not to mention economics, languages, education, philosophy, etc.) the route to impact is much more fragmented. Among the 97 sociology case studies, for example, impact comes from numerous briefings of government officials and parliamentarians, before the academics join "networks" and "committees" discussing their research and wider issues. Their research is covered by national media, they meet even more people practitioners or third sector campaigning organisations to pass on their knowledge. And, after all that, and often a good deal more, sometimes there is a policy or practice change that can be pointed to as a direct impact, sometimes not. Central to much of the impact is "access". Prominent and experienced academics are more likely to get on the committees, know the right journalists and government officials, and have links into third sector organisations, etc. I worked with Professor Sir John Curtice, of election night fame, for a number of years. He didn't need much support. I advised and facilitated, but after 30 years in the game he knew Whitehall (and Holyrood) inside and out and they knew him. But many researchers, especially at the start of their careers, don't... Who did the author work with of election night fame? - Professor Jay Hammond - Professor John Howard - Professor Sir John Cutice - not enough information
Professor Sir John Cutice