Input: The old vaulted church was stripped down: there was no cloth on the altar, just a DJ's toolkit and his beer. Through the dark, I could see three bolts left in the wall from where they'd taken down the crucifix. A confessional too beaten-up to have been sold was shaking in a way that suggested activity inside, and where the pews had been taken out, a couple hundred people were testifying to the DJ's moving sermon. Rachel stepped forward into the crowd while I took a moment to drink in the ceiling's blue-lit, shadowed vault and the light-catching haze from who-knows-what rising between the DJ and the crowd. There was a terrific echo, each beat reverberating inside of the next, and the old stained-glass windows rattled in their frames. On the dance floor, people moved with their eyes closed and their hands in the air. I danced with Rachel for a while, but then something by the bar seemed to be pulling her eyes. She told me that she was heading for a drink and slipped out of the crowd. When she hadn't come back halfway through the next song, I glanced over at the bar. It was just a little set-up where someone had stacked a few crates and brought something alcoholic to share, mostly beer. Rachel was standing with a plastic cup, looking like she was having a conversation, but I couldn't see anyone else there. The next time the crowd split, I saw him. He stood in front of a blue light, so I couldn't see him clearly, but what I saw was memorable. He wore a jacket of what might have been blue velvet, and his hair gleamed black against his white skin. The blue haze seemed to stop just shy of his pallor, setting off his striking face without illuminating its details, and his wrists flashed white in the darkness. He didn't move, just stared and held his drink. The next time I saw them, his mouth was moving. She nodded and he took her arm. I watched them through the crush of dancers as they squeezed along the wall, and the feeling came to me that something was very wrong. Saturday morning, I woke up and saw that she still hadn't come home.
"What was the man standing in front of when the crowd split?" is "A blue light"?

OPTIONS:
- no
- yes
Output: yes

Input: Sam Farragut is a sociopathic business executive in Southern California who forces a team of advertising agency employees to embark on a dangerous dirtbike trip to the Baja California desert in order to compete for his business . The men are Warren Summerfield , a suicidal middle-aged ad executive who has been fired from the agency ; the straightlaced Paul McIlvain who is inattentive to his wife , and brash art designer Maxon who feels suddenly trapped after his girlfriend announces she is pregnant . There are numerous long sequences of motorcycle riding on desert backroads . Summerfield has been having an affair with McIlvian's wife . He has not told his wife that he was fired and is simply serving out his tenure at the agency while looking for a new position . His wife is actually aware of the affair . Farragut convinces the ad men to make the motorcycle journey on the pretext of looking for a location to shoot a commercial . In reality , Farragut is reckless and looking to involve the men in spontaneous edgy adventure of his own manipulation . After they leave , McIlvain's wife suspects that Summerfield is planning to kill himself for the insurance money , but she can not convince Summerfield's wife to instigate a search . The four men travel deeper into Mexico on isolated dirt roads . At one point Summerfield contemplates plunging off a cliff . After being humiliated by a young American couple in a Baja bar , Farragut tracks them down on the beach while accompanied by Maxon .

Does the response "McIlvian's wife" correctly answer the question "Whose wife is having an affair with Summerfield?"?

OPTIONS:
- no
- yes
***
Output: no

Problem: To protect its seagoing interests and trade routes, Portugal established strategic garrisons in Goa (India), Malacca (East Indies), and Hormuz in the Persian Gulf. Portuguese explorers then embarked upon Macau (now Macao), the Congo, and various other parts of Africa, including the Sudan. The Portuguese policy was to avoid armed strife and to develop a trade empire, rather than to conquer nations. To this end it succeeded with relatively few blood-soaked episodes in its colonial history. Adventures abroad, however, proved disastrous during the second half of the 16th century. In 1557 the 14-year-old boy-king Sebastiao ascended the throne, the beginning of a calamitous reign that was to end at the battle of Alcacer-Quiber (Morocco) in pursuit of a vain crusade. Sebastiao's untimely demise, alongside some 18,000 ill-prepared, badly led followers, set the stage for a crisis of succession. For many years afterwards, legends and rumors bizarrely insisted that the king was still alive, and imposters turned up from time to time claiming the throne; those who were plausible enough to be deemed a threat were summarily executed. In fact, the only rightful claimant to the crown was the elderly Prince Henry. But after two years of alternating between the throne and his sickbed, he died, heirless. Surveying the situation and smelling an opportunity, Spain occupied the power vacuum, and Portugal's neighbor and long-time antagonist became its master. Spanish rule dictated Portugal's inadvertent involvement in Spain's ongoing wars. In 1587 a squadron of British ships commanded by Francis Drake attacked the Algarve (now a "legitimate target" as Spanish territory) and sacked Sagres, thus depriving the world of the relics of Henry the Navigator. Nine years later Faro was torched. The 1386 Treaty of Windsor, by which Britain and Portugal had pledged eternal friendship, seemed a distant memory. Portugal's empire was gradually eroded, and many of its trading posts (with the notable exception of Brazil) were picked off by the British and Dutch. Finally, after 60 years of Spanish rule, Portuguese noblemen (aided by the French, then at war with Spain) organized a palace coup and restored independence. The Great Disaster Portugal's greatest misfortune struck on All Saint's Day, 1 November 1755.

Question: "How easy was it for Portugal to expand?"

Answer: "Difficult"

OPTIONS:
- no
- yes
Answer:
no