input: OPTIONS:
- not enough information
- Because the road was not passable
- Because a man packed his vehicle nearby
- Because the school bus stopped by the road Now, answer this question: "India is OUR country" The quote we often preach but forget to deliver. I joined a club recently where I met a true Indian. I asked him about the most vivid memory of his life. One morning, as he was heading towards his office, he realized that the road he regularly takes was unusually bumpy. Upon inspection, he came to the conclusion that a truck carrying stones passed by on that road and unintentionally scattered few stones along the way. He believed that the authority of the truck will take care of this later that day. Next morning, the road situation was unchanged with stones still scattered. He parked his vehicle nearby, put on some music and started kicking the stones off the road. Within a few minutes, a school bus stopped by, students gathered around and started clapping for this true Indian. As he turned around, he said "Helping hands are better than clapping hands". As a repercussion, the students started helping this man kick the stones off the road. A task that would have taken hours to be done by one person was completed in a couple of minutes. What a great example of team work! It was this man's discretionary efforts that brought a change in the thought process of the students, India's next generation. We all point fingers and blame one another for societal problems but never act upon it. If this man, a true Indian, would have just blammed the truck driver and went on his way, would the road still be cleared? The next time we point fingers at someone for a social cause, we must keep in mind that that someone is an Indian just like us. Will a true Indian point fingers at an Indian? Are we pointing fingers at ourselves? In the end, we are all in the same team. Question: Why were the people kicking off the stones? === The answer to the above question is
A:
output: Because the road was not passable

I normally do not post certain types of things on my blog or on social media, like political messages, but today I feel compelled. I've been thinking for the last few days about the most recent school shooting in Parkland, and my overwhelming emotion right after grief is rage. I am so angry it makes me cry and for those of you out there who know me, angry-cry is the end-stage, top-of-the-gauge level of angry for me. I am angry that as a nation, we continue to wring our hands and bemoan each mass shooting but we don't take any action to stop the next one. I am angry that our elected officials have failed us in the most spectacular way possible by being unable to work together or to set aside special interests to protect the lives and safety of Americans, including our most vulnerable citizens, our children. I am angry that time and time again, we the people and our elected officials weigh the value of human lives against countless other things (Second Amendment, special interests, party disagreements, inertia, whatever) and the value of human life comes up short in the calculations. I am angry at myself for believing at any point in the last several years that I could trust lawmakers to address this epidemic and I am angry at myself for feeling so helpless that I have not personally taken action. This stops now. I am angry that in 2012, 20 6-7 year old children and 6 adults were murdered in Sandy Hook and in the 5+ years since, we have done nothing meaningful to stop this. To me, this is tantamount to saying that we as a nation are OK with this. I don't think we are, but that's the message we're sending if we don't force our government to do something. According to the New York Times, there have been 239 school shootings nationwide since Sandy Hook with 438 people shot, 138 who died. Question: What is the author angry about? === The answer to the above question is

OPTIONS:
- not enough information
- Vulnerable citizens.
- The school shooting in Parkland.
- Children.

Answer: The school shooting in Parkland.

Greg said goodbye to his last student at 8:15 PM, locked up the studio, and got into his car. He always looked forward to his evening rendezvous with Bonnie--his nickname for the Bonneville. He liked to put her top down, and drive her around town in the moonlight. Their route varied from night to night, but the ultimate destination was never in question. "May I help you?" The worn-out speaker was crackly, but he still recognized the particularly twangy East Texas voice of Fontana Fry. Over his six years of vocal training, he had become acutely aware of accents. This is true of all classically trained singers. Great emphasis is placed on precise pronunciation and enunciation. It is mandatory that the singer's repertoire include works written in English, Latin, Italian, German, and French. So, by the time Greg finished his graduate degree, his accent had been all but eliminated. He sounded somewhat like a network news anchor instead of an East Texan. "I would like a large--" "--a large dipped cone, the usual. Right?" The Dairy Queen drive-thru ordering station was located out in front of the restaurant, on the right side. He looked up, and saw the 19 year-old waving at him. She looked so cute in her little Dairy Queen outfit. Fontana was in her first year at Kilgore College. She planned to be an elementary teacher. He knew she would be a good one. Greg had met Fontana a few months earlier when she brought her 13-year-old brother to the studio to enroll for guitar lessons. The boy was holding a U.S. made, 1968 Harmony acoustic guitar his uncle gave him. The body and the frets were badly worn, but the instrument still played beautifully. It looked somewhat like a large violin, with arched top and f-holes. That shape produces a more mellow sound than flattops. And the guitar's age contributed additional warmth to the tone. Question: How often might Greg go to Dairy Queen? === The answer to the above question is
OPTIONS:
- Almost never
- Most days
- not enough information
- Only once

Answer:
Most days