I had drunk too much, I confess, though we all had. Somehow, Tasha and I began to argue the worth of Solevgrad jazz, as inconsequential a topic as I can imagine. She had studied it in school, so she thought herself as an expert. I once had a neighbor who played it constantly, loudly, and badly, so I thought I knew it better. Malaquez tried to mediate, but I saw him as siding with Tasha. So, I think, did she. The subject shifted from music to Tasha's obsession with fame, undoubtedly by a leap that I made. She had no choice but to follow. (I do not remember any of this well, just now, nor do I care to. Those who are truly curious may look at the last act of "Captured Moments.") I remember suggesting, with characteristic tact, that she add Emil to her small list of major accomplishments. Malaquez glanced away, embarrassed. Tasha looked at me as if to say, "I will." She said, "I feel sorry for you, Nardo. I'll see Emil home." "Yes," I said, "Do that," and did not care what she did, or why. Emil asked, "You're all right?" I muttered something he must have interpreted as assent. They both walked up to Emil's home while I watched the scarlet moonlight ripple on distant waves. Disgusted with Tasha but more disgusted with myself, I finally realized she would not return that night and went into The Sleeping Flamingo to drink myself to sleep. She had not come home when I woke in mid-morning.

Question: "What is the name of the person Tasha was arguing with?"

Response: "Emil"
OPTIONS:
- no
- yes

A: no

Problem: Allan crouched over his desk once more, pen in hand and mind blank. He contemplated a story, an outline he had laboriously constructed some time ago. He had filled his pen and raised it, the nib descending towards the paper, before the sound came: the gentle, persistent tapping of the gnarled, primeval willow touching the window with long, insistent fingers. His eyes awoke with a passionate, determined flame, though the only light came from the glutted moon. Allan filled page after page, the words escaping from his mind onto the paper. Where before they had marched in regiments, practiced in ranks and followed their leaders' commands, the words now escaped in their true forms, unhindered by any stricture. He continued long into the night, until the eldritch orb had sunk into the waiting hands of the willow, raised perpetually skyward. Arthur looked up from the results of a night's frenzied labors and looked Allan in the eye. "What is this?" he queried, indicating the pages he held in his left hand. "I decided that since I wasn't having much success with more traditional stories, I might see what sort of work I produced if I let my imagination go freely," Allan replied, somewhat less self-assured than he had been the previous night. "What in G-d's name could have possessed you to do such a thing," cried Arthur, nearly raising his voice. "After all I said the day before, why have you abandoned centuries of literary progress for some self-indulgent fantasy?" He shook the papers at Allan, raising them like a belt above the head of a disobedient son. "This is nothing but a glorified Grimm's tale, a miscarried child of Stoker, a creation less fit to be published than to be told around an open fire at the hovel of some peasant!" He spoke the last word with such heavy intonation that Allan shrank back before the physical wave of sound emanating from Arthur's throat. "Do you hate the modern system of literature? Do you personally despise the works the Enlightenment or the progress made since Shakespeare?" For a moment, Allan could hardly do more than shake his head. "No, of course not I " "Then why," Arthur barreled on, "do you disregard them all and return to this superstitious babble, this morbid, paganistic drivel?

Question: "How many authors' surnames did Arthur mention?"

Answer: "Three"

OPTIONS:
- no
- yes
Answer: yes

Question:
He repeatedly calls on his followers to embrace martyrdom since "The walls of oppression and humiliation cannot be demolished except in a rain of bullets." For those yearning for a lost sense of order in an older, more tranquil world, he offers his "Caliphate" as an imagined alternative to today's uncertainty. For others, he offers simplistic conspiracies to explain their world. Bin Laden also relies heavily on the Egyptian writer Sayyid Qutb. A member of the Muslim Brotherhood executed in 1966 on charges of attempting to overthrow the government, Qutb mixed Islamic scholarship with a very superficial acquaintance with Western history and thought. Sent by the Egyptian government to study in the United States in the late 1940s, Qutb returned with an enormous loathing of Western society and history. He dismissed Western achievements as entirely material, arguing that Western society possesses "nothing that will satisfy its own conscience and justify its existence." Three basic themes emerge from Qutb's writings. First, he claimed that the world was beset with barbarism, licentiousness, and unbelief (a condition he called jahiliyya, the religious term for the period of ignorance prior to the revelations given to the Prophet Mohammed). Qutb argued that humans can choose only between Islam and jahiliyya. Second, he warned that more people, including Muslims, were attracted to jahiliyya and its material comforts than to his view of Islam; jahiliyya could therefore triumph over Islam. Third, no middle ground exists in what Qutb conceived as a struggle between God and Satan. All Muslims-as he defined them-therefore must take up arms in this fight. Any Muslim who rejects his ideas is just one more nonbeliever worthy of destruction. Bin Laden shares Qutb's stark view, permitting him and his followers to rationalize even unprovoked mass murder as righteous defense of an embattled faith. Many Americans have wondered, "Why do 'they' hate us?" Some also ask, "What can we do to stop these attacks?" Bin Laden and al Qaeda have given answers to both these questions. After reading the above, is "Peace has to be made between multiples and the West" the correct answer to the question "What are the basic themes of Qutb's writings?"? OPTIONS:
- no
- yes

Answer:
no

Input: Mechanical energy is a combination of the energy of motion or position. This type of energy describes objects that are moving or could move. A moving ball can have energy from motion. An arrow can also have the energy of motion. Both are types of mechanical energy. Can you think of some other examples? Where does the energy of motion come from? It comes from the energy created by position. This energy is stored energy. This means it is not moving yet, but it has the potential to move. How can you store energy? The arrow gains energy from the drawn bow. As the arrow is released, the bow releases its stored energy and puts the arrow into motion. Can you think of some other ways to store energy using position?

Does the response "Mechanical energy" correctly answer the question "What kind of energy do objects that are moving or could move possess?"?

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