Input: Dirk Diggler was born as Steven Samuel Adams on April 15 , 1961 outside of Saint Paul , Minnesota . His parents were a construction worker and a boutique shop owner who attended church every Sunday and believed in God . Looking for a career as a male model , Diggler dropped out of school at age 16 and left home . He was discovered at a falafel stand by Jack Horner . Diggler met his friend , Reed Rothchild , through Horner in 1979 while working on a film . Horner slowly introduced Diggler to the business until he became noticeable within the industry . Diggler became a prominent model and began appearing in pornographic films , after Which his career took off . He had critical and box office hits Which led him to stardom . The hits and publicity led to fame and money Which led Diggler to the world of drugs . With the amount of money Diggler was making he was able to support both his and Rothchild's addictions . The drugs eventually caused a breakup between Diggler and Horner since Diggler was having issues with his performance on set . After the breakup Diggler tried to make a film himself but the film was never completed . He then attempted a music career Which was also successful but led him deeper into drugs because of the amount of money he was making . He then starred in a TV show Which was a failure both critically and commercially . Having failed and with no work , Diggler returned to the porn industry taking roles in low-budget homosexual films to help support his habit .
"In what year did Diggler drop out of school?" is "Around 1961"?
Output: no
Input: My father was named James Page Jackson because he was born on the old Jackson plantation in Lancaster county, Virginia. He named one of his daughters Lancaster for a middle name in memory of his old home. Clarice Lancaster Jackson was her full name. A man named Galloway bought my father and brought him to Arkansas. Some called him by the name of Galloway, but my father always had all his children keep the name Jackson. There were fourteen of us, but only ten lived to grow up. He belonged to Mr. Galloway at the time of my birth, but even at that, I did not take the name Galloway as it would seem like I should. My father was a good carpenter; he was a fine cook, too; learned that back in Virginia. I'll tell you something interesting. The first cook stove ever brought to this town was one my father had his master to bring. He was cook at the Anthony House. You know about that, don't you? It was the first real fine hotel in Little Rock. When father went there to be head cook, all they had to cook on was big fireplaces and the big old Dutch ovens. Father just kept on telling about the stoves they had in Virginia, and at last they sent and got him one; it had to come by boat and took a long time. My father was proud that he was the one who set the first table ever spread in the Anthony House.
"What was the Anthony House?" is "House"?
Output: no
Input: 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.
"What did Nardo think he knew better?" is "Solevgrad jazz"?
Output:
yes