Input: Take a look at this train in Figure 1.11. It looks very futuristic. What do you notice about it? Did you notice that the train has no wheels? How can a train have no wheels? It doesn't need wheels. It actually floats, or levitates, just above the track. Magnets enable the train to do this. This is not a normal train. This is a maglev train. The word maglev stands for magnetic levitation. Because it has no wheels, there is no friction. Some magnets hold the train up. Other magnets are used to move the train forward. This train can go very fast. It can reach speeds up to 480 kilometers (300 miles) per hour! Magnets are pretty cool. What exactly is a magnet? How is it able to exert such force?
"What do you notice about figure 1.11?" is "The train is like a helicopter"?
Output: no
Input: The next evening, she arrived with a stack of glistening stopboxes containing sushi, sashimi, oysters in their shells, and Terran vegetables fresh plucked from their hydroponic beds. Wondering about the reason for her extravagance, I asked how work had gone that day. "Emil came in. He's taking Dream's End." "Emil?" "You've no memory left, old one. Emil Malaquez." You did that to test my affections." "What?" "Calling him by his first name. I did that in a comedy once.'Nights with Karl and Groucho.' It was before your time." "The critics liked it." "I'm glad." A moment later: "That's not why I called him 'Emil'." "No. We lunched together. He's nice."
"What does the older speaker say the "critics liked?"" is "Nights with Karl and Groucho"?
Output: yes
Input: Let me begin again. I like life on the resort worlds -- always have and, after the upcoming mindwipe, always will. Last year, I rented a small house on Vega IV, a sea world, all islands and reefs and archipelagos, turquoise waters and aquamarine skies, sunrises like symphonies and sunsets like stars gone supernova. There's only one city: called Nuevo Acapulco in La Enciclopedia del Empirio de la Humanidad, it's N'apulco to the locals. The N'apulcans are mostly emigrants from Polaris II; the only difference between them and their Carribbean ancestors is that the ancestors fleeced NorAm tourists. Now the N'apulcans profit from their Hispanic siblings. I don't mean to sound cynical. I suppose I wish to show that I'm still capable of a certain authorial distance, a semblance of dispassionate observation. The following events may indicate otherwise. In fine tourist tradition, most homes on Vega IV are named. Mine was The Sleeping Flamingo, and its outer walls were coral pink. Were they mood-sensitive, they would have changed as I first viewed them. The rental agent, an attractive N'apulcan named Tasha Cortez, was not mood-sensitive either. She said, "It's beautiful, isn't it, Senor Flynn?" My instinct was to gesture curtly with a cupped hand that she lift the wind boat and take me elsewhere. But she was young and attractive (as I have said and may say again) and eager and so happy to be assisting the infamous Bernardo Flynn that I merely raised an eyebrow in mild scepticism. And then, because a playwright cannot resist a promising line, I said, "Your Sleeping Flamingo should be put to sleep."
"Who rented a small house on Vega IV?" is "Senor Flynn"?
Output:
yes