Captured Moments by Will Shetterly I remember Papa's stopbox, a teal blue Tiempo Capturado that Mama brought home for his birthday. It was huge and inefficient, and she should never have spent so many pesos on a toy, but Papa would not let her return it. He used it to preserve baby tomatoes, cucumbers, and strawberries in translucent cubes that he stored in the pantry for spring-time meals in the middle of winter. Mama kept her mink jacket, a family hand-me-down, safe from time in a stopbox, and lent the capturador to my uncle for his stamp collection. Sometimes they would let us little ones to seal a treasured toy or a last piece of birthday cake until we begged them for its release, usually a few hours after enclosing it. When my father died, a year after my mother, my sisters and I cleaned out their apartment. We found our baby shoes protected in stopboxes. I took mine home, where they sat above my computer while I worked on my first play. One night when I did not believe love had ever existed for anyone, I used my own capturador, a sleek titanium Sanyo Tardar Ahora, to undo the stopbox. Bringing my face close to the shoes, I breathed deeply of air that my parents had trapped while closing up that symbol of their love for me. The instant would have been improved had my baby shoes been cleaned before they were encased. But as soon as I coughed, I laughed, and I did not try to kill myself that night.

Question: "What made the speaker cough?"

Answer: "Baby shoes had not been cleaned"

Response: yes

Life for the partners of Cates, Katalinic & Lund holds little of the glamour one might expect from a career in law. Instead of lunches at Lutce, they caucus at the Palace Diner in Queens. Wooing clients means passing out fliers on street corners, not securing box seats at Madison Square Garden. To make ends meet, one partner stacks pipe and cleans the yard at a plumbing warehouse. Another handles urine samples in a hospital lab. A sign of failure, of a feeble economy, perhaps? Hardly. They are heeding the call of a growing pool of law schools, which are for the first time pointing graduates in a new direction and teaching them how to get there. Forget the lure of large firms, the security of a government post. Here is how to grapple "in the service of justice," as many of the schools put it, instead. Convinced that corporate largess and government programs barely dent the nation's legal needs, the law schools are urging graduates to buck tradition, pass up big salaries and ignore mushrooming student debt to join tiny neighborhood practices or simply start their own, all with an eye toward charging no more than their clients can afford. This is not pro bono legal work; it is "low bono," a term the schools coined to define the atypical kind of law career they are training students for. While its practitioners do charge for their services, they are also dead set on turning no one away - or at least as few as possible. "When you go into this kind of social justice law, it's really brutal and you're almost guaranteed to struggle for a couple of years before there's a light at the end of the tunnel," said Fred Rooney, director of the Community Legal Resource Network at City University of New York School of Law, from which the lawyers of the newly formed Cates, Katalinic & Lund graduated last May. "But if our graduates don't do it, the millions of people who cannot access justice in this country will continue to soar." The movement, primly called the consortium, started four years ago by CUNY, Northeastern University, the University of Maryland and St. Mary's Law School in Texas. (St. Mary's later dropped out.) Since then, it has drawn seven additional law schools to its ranks: the University of Michigan, Rutgers and Syracuse Law Schools, New York Law School, University of New Mexico School of Law, Thomas M. Cooley Law School and Touro Law School. It has elicited at least initial interest from 19 more.

Question: "Who made this statement: "But if our graduates don't do it, the millions of people who cannot access justice in this country will continue to soar.""

Answer: "Thomas M. Cooley Law School"

Response: no

If you have a mass of 50 kg on Earth, what is your weight in newtons? An object with more mass is pulled by gravity with greater force. Mass and weight are closely related. However, the weight of an object can change if the force of gravity changes. On Earth, the force of gravity is the same everywhere. So how does the force of gravity change? It doesnt if you stay on Earth. What if we travel to another planet or moon in our solar system? Look at the photo of astronaut Edwin E. Aldrin Jr. taken by fellow astronaut Neil Armstrong in the Figure. They were the first humans to walk on the moon. An astronaut weighs less on the moon than he would on Earth. This is because the moons gravity is weaker than Earths. The astronauts mass, on the other hand, did not change. He still contained the same amount of matter on the moon as he did on Earth. If the astronaut weighed 175 pounds on Earth, he would have weighed only 29 pounds on the moon. If his mass on Earth was 80 kg, what would his mass have been on the moon? [Figure 3]

Question: "How is an astronaut's weight and mass different on the Moon?"

Answer: "Mass is same but weight reduces by six times"

Response:
yes