MCAT

What is the most likely reason why 226Ra is no longer used in household smoke detectors? A. Its decay product is a hazardous gas. B. It limits the useful lifespan of a smoke detector. C. Its decay mode is extremely harmful to humans. D. It results in alpha particle accumulation on the negative plate.

A. Alpha decay of 226Ra is described by the decay reaction: Radon-222, a hazardous gas, is one of the decay products making choice A the correct answer. Choice B is eliminated since Radon-222 has a half-life of 1602 years. Choices C and D are eliminated since alpha decay is present in 241Am smoke detectors that the passage describes as being in current use.

At which of the following combinations of pressure and temperature is the free energy of transformation from molten globule to the native protein a negative quantity? A. P = 0.2 GPa, T = 39oC B. P = 0.2 GPa, T = 43oC C. P = 0.1 GPa, T = 50oC D. P = 0.4 GPa, T = 60oC

A. For the free energy of transformation (ΔG) to definitively be a negative quantity, the combination of pressure and temperature must be located in a section of the phase diagram where only the native state is indicated, making choice A correct. The coordinates for choice B are on an equilibrium line, meaning that the free energy of transformation between the two phases is zero. Neither choices C nor D fall in the region marked N, so both can be eliminated.

Ribose-5-phosphate, a product of the PPP, is used in the formation of nucleotides. Which of the following is true regarding the structure of nucleotides? A. The purines, adenine and guanine, are double-ring structures. B. The pyrimidines, cytosine and thymine, are double-ring structures. C. The purines, adenine and guanine, are single-ring structures. D. The pyrimidines, guanine and thymine, are single-ring structures.

A. The 2x2 method can be used here. Adenine and guanine are the purines (remember the mnemonic PURe As Gold) and cytosine and thymine are pyrimidines (choice D can be eliminated). Pyrimidines are single-ring structures (choice B can be eliminated). It can be helpful to remember that purines are essentially a pyrimidine ring fused with an imidazole ring, making them the double-ringed nucleotides (choice C can be eliminated and choice A is correct).

Which of the following is/are true about the 1H NMR spectrum for the molecule shown below? I. The C-4 hydrogen is the most downfield signal and splits into a multiplet. II. The signal for the C-1 and C-7 hydrogens integrates for six hydrogens and splits into a doublet. III. The spectrum will have a total of 7 signals. A. I only B. I and II only C. I and III only D. II and III only

A. The main feature to this problem is that the molecule is symmetrical. Item I is correct because the C-4 hydrogen is closest to the electronegative element (chlorine in this case). Therefore, the chlorine will pull the electron density away from the hydrogen, which causes the hydrogen to have a higher chemical shift (be further downfield) than the other hydrogens. Since it has four neighboring Hs, by the n + 1 splitting rule, it will split into five peaks, or a multiplet (eliminate choice D). For Item II, it is true that the signal for both the C-1 and C-7 hydrogens will integrate for six (since the hydrogens on both carbons are chemically equivalent), but the splitting will not be a doublet as there are two nonequivalent neighbors thus the signal will actually split three times producing a triplet (eliminate choice B). As stated at the beginning, the molecule is symmetrical. Therefore, for Item III, the spectrum will not show seven signals (as that would not account for the symmetry), but rather show four signals (C-1 and C-7, C-2 and C-6, C-3 and C-5 with their respective hydrogens will be chemically equivalent in the aforementioned parings. C-4 has its own signal). Therefore, choice A is the best answer.

A monochromatic beam used in DEI is composed of photons with an energy of 30 keV. What is wavelength of the photons that reach the imaging screen after diffracting from an analyzer angle of Δθ = 5 μrad? (Planck's constant h = 4.14 × 10-15 eV·s.) A. 4.1 × 10-11 m B. 8.3 × 10-11 m C. 2.4 × 1010 m D. 1.2 × 1010 m

A. The relation between photon energy and wavelength is given by E = hc / λ, so λ = hc / E = (4.14 × 10-15 eV·s × 3 × 108 m/s) / (30 × 103 eV) = 4.1 × 10-11 m. The analyzer angle does not affect the energy of a given photon, but rather the number of photons that reflect toward the screen (beam intensity being proportional to number of photons): choice B is incorrect. Choices C and D are what you would get if you calculated the frequency instead of the wavelength.

According to figure 2, at approximately what analyzer angle Δθ should the images be taken for refraction contrast? A. 0 μrad B. ±4 μrad C. ±8 μrad D. ±10 μrad

A. According to the last paragraph, refraction contrast images "by comparing two images below and above Δθ = 0 μrad at half the maximum intensity." At the I / I0 value of 0.5 (half the maximum intensity), Δθ = ±4 μrad.

Which of the following is true of the differences between the forces exerted on a given object by water and mercury? (ρ = 13500 kg/m3) A. The maximum buoyant force is greater in mercury, and the maximum surface tension force is greater in mercury. B. The maximum buoyant force is greater in mercury, but the maximum surface tension force is greater in water. C. The maximum buoyant force is equal in both, but the maximum surface tension force is greater in mercury. D. The maximum buoyant force is equal in both, but the maximum surface tension force is greater in water.

A. The coefficient of surface tension is greater in mercury, so eliminate choices B and D; the maximum force of surface tension is greater in mercury. The force of buoyancy is given by Fb = ρfVsubg, and g should not change. The maximum value of V should not either; the object can always be fully submerged, so the maximum value of V is just the total volume of the object. (Note that the question does not ask about the value at any equilibrium, so whether the object would float without any other external forces on it is irrelevant; the object can always be pushed below the surface, and then the volume submerged is equal to the whole volume of the object; for the maximum buoyant force, the object must be fully submerged anyway.) Therefore, the only difference is ρf, which is greater for mercury, so eliminate C: the maximum buoyant force is greater in mercury.

Administration of hemin, a heme derivative, during an acute attack is recommended for most patients to mitigate the effect of the episode. What is the most likely mechanism of action in this application? A. Inhibition of ALA synthase B. Facilitating heme catabolism C. Activation of ALA dehydratase D. Activation of the sympathetic division of the autonomic nervous system

A. ALA synthase, the rate limiting enzyme in the production of heme, likely experiences feedback inhibition from the products of the pathway which would decrease the accumulation of both aminolevulinic acid and porphobilinogen, and would help alleviate symptoms of an acute attack. Administration of hemin likely serves a similar function (choice A is correct). Heme catabolism would further accelerate ALA synthase and activation of ALA dehydratase would increase the quantity of porphobilinogen accumulating. Both of these would exacerbate the condition (choices B and C are wrong). Activating the sympathetic branch of the autonomic nervous system would further increase heart rate and hypertension (choice D is wrong)

What are the components of the pellet formed after the second centrifugation step? A. Peptidoglycan, phospholipids, genome, proteins and enzymes B. Nucleic acids including the genome, RNA and the plasmid C. Cell wall and plasma membrane components, RNA and proteins D. Proteins and enzymes only

A. All the components of the bacterial cell (cell wall, plasma membrane, genome, RNA, plasmids, ribosomes) are going to be present in either the pellet or the supernatant. It is important to recall from the passage that the pellet is discarded and the supernatant is kept, and that the pellet after the second centrifugation step contains "cellular debris". Since the plasmid is the desired product and the pellet is not kept, it can be inferred that the plasmid is not part of the pellet (choice B can be eliminated). Since RNAase is added in the next step of the protocol, it can be inferred that the supernatant also contains RNA and that RNA is therefore not in the pellet (choice C can be eliminated). This leaves choices A and D. While both choices list proteins and enzymes, choice A also lists the other cell components that would be present after lysis, but that are not wanted as part of the final product. For example, the plasma membrane components that were degraded by adding the detergent SDS would be present in the pellet (choice A is better than choice D).

If the temperature was held constant at 40oC, at which pressure might one expect the width of the amide 1 band to measure 43 cm-1? A. 0.25 GPa B. 0.44 GPa C. 0.61 GPa D. 0.80 GPa

B. The pressure-induced transformation from the normal state to the partially unfolded state is monitored by the shift in the width of the amide 1 IR band, as depicted in Figure 1a. Figure 1a shows that at room temperature, this transition (where the width is ~43 cm-1, between the two end points) occurs a bit below 0.6 GPa, which is in line with this transition on the phase diagram. At 40oC, this transition happens at a lower pressure (eliminate choices C and D), but still well above 0.25 GPa (eliminate choice A). Choice B is the best answer of the given options.

Based on information presented in the passage, which of the following mechanisms is LEAST likely to be effective in treating cerebral edema in patients with diabetic ketoacidosis? A. Increasing cellular electrolyte uptake in central nervous system neurons B. Increasing the osmotic pressure of serum plasma C. Decreasing generation of ketone bodies D. Decreasing serum glucose concentration

A. As it would increase the osmotic pressure of the intracellular compartment, increasing cellular uptake of electrolytes would most likely increase the accumulation of fluid in the brain; plus, the passage mentions blocking a channel responsible for this function (NKCC1) as a novel treatment target for cerebral edema (choice A is the least effective treatment for cerebral edema and is therefore correct). Increasing the osmotic pressure of serum plasma (by administration of hypertonic saline) would pull fluid from the brain into the bloodstream where it can be excreted (choice B is a reasonable treatment and can be eliminated). Administration of insulin will result in the down-regulation of both lipolysis and ketogenesis, decreasing the generation of ketone bodies (choice C is wrong). Among other effects, a decrease in serum glucose will likely result from insulin administration. Whether this would ameliorate or exacerbate cerebral edema is unclear based on the data shown in Table 1; thus, it is unclear whether this intervention would be helpful or hurtful (the effect of choice D is not clear, making choice A a better answer). Note also that choices B and C are described in the passage as treatments, thus are likely to be effective and can be eliminated.

What is the effect of constriction of the efferent arteriole? A. Increased GFR, resulting in increased sodium excretion B. Decreased GFR, resulting in increased sodium excretion C. Increased GFR, resulting in decreased sodium excretion D. Decreased GFR, resulting in decreased sodium excretion

A. Constriction of the efferent arteriole will restrict the flow of blood out of the glomerulus and result in increased pressure within the glomerulus. This would increase GFR (choices B and D can be eliminated). An increase in GFR would result in more filtrate passing through the nephron, and increased loss of sodium (choice C can be eliminated and choice A is correct).

Which of the following describes the pathway GnRH takes after leaving the hypothalamus? A. GnRH is released into capillaries in the hypothalamus, travels around the body via the circulatory systems, and exits the capillaries in the anterior pituitary. B. GnRH travels down nerve axons from the hypothalamus to the anterior pituitary. C. GnRH is released into capillaries in the hypothalamus, and immediately exits from capillaries in the anterior pituitary. D. GnRH travels down nerve axons from the hypothalamus to the posterior pituitary.

A. GnRH is released into capillaries in the hypothalamus, travels around the body via the circulatory systems, and exits the capillaries in the anterior pituitary. B. GnRH travels down nerve axons from the hypothalamus to the anterior pituitary. C. GnRH is released into capillaries in the hypothalamus, and immediately exits from capillaries in the anterior pituitary. D. GnRH travels down nerve axons from the hypothalamus to the posterior pituitary.

What is the role of luteinizing hormone in men? A. Induce the interstitial cells to produce testosterone B. Stimulate the sustentacular cells to undergo mitosis C. Induce the interstitial cells to undergo mitosis D. To negatively inhibit further sperm production

A. Luteinizing hormone in men stimulates the interstitial (or Leydig) cells to produce testosterone (choice A is correct and choice C is wrong). The sustentacular (Sertoli) cells are stimulated by FSH (not LH, choice B is wrong) to assist in the process of spermatogenesis. Finally, inhibin, not LH, is secreted by the sustentacular cells to inhibit FSH release; this suppresses further spermatogenesis (choice D is wrong).

Nucleotides in nucleic acids must contain a: A. 3'-OH for generating a phosphodiester bond. B. 3'-OH for resistance to hydrolysis. C. 2'-OH for generating a phosphodiester bond. D. 2'-OH for resistance to hydrolysis.

A. Nucleotides in both DNA and RNA possess a 3'-OH which serve as a point of attachment for additional nucleotides during replication and transcription. These bonds between nucleotides are known as phosphodiester bonds (choice C is wrong and A is correct). The inclusion of a 2'-OH group in RNA results in decreased stability, making it more susceptible to hydrolysis, not less (choices B and D are wrong).

Which of the following is a true statement about RNAase? A. It contains peptide bonds and is degraded non-specifically in strong acid conditions. B. It increases the rate and the activation energy of a reaction. C. It is a biological catalyst and is consumed during catalysis. D. It is stable at extreme temperatures and pH.

A. RNAase is an enzyme that degrades RNA by breaking the phosphodiester bonds in the RNA backbone. Enzymes are proteins and are therefore made of amino acids connected by a covalent peptide bond. Proteins are degraded specifically by proteases and nonspecifically in strong acid conditions or extreme temperatures (choice A is correct and choice D is wrong). Enzymes increase the rate of the reaction by decreasing the activation energy in a reaction (choice B is wrong) and are not consumed in the reaction, but are regenerated (choice C is wrong).

Which of the following best describes the reaction catalyzed by E1? A. Thioester formation B. Transesterification C. Disulfide bond formation D. Aldol condensation

A. The passage states that E1 catalyzes the formation of a bond between a cysteine residue, containing a thiol (R—SH) functional group, and ubiquitin's C-terminus, containing a carboxyl group. A reaction between a thiol and carboxylic acid will produce a thioester (choice A is correct). Transesterification involves a nucleophilic addition-elimination between an ester and an alcohol (choice B is wrong). Disulfide bond formation involves the oxidation of two thiol groups to form a disulfide bridge (choice C is wrong). An aldol condensation reaction involves the addition of an enolate to a ketone or aldehyde resulting in the formation of an α,β-unsaturated carbonyl compound (choice D is wrong).

Which of the following mutations to the substrate protein would cause a failure in ubiquitination? A. K → T B. M→K C. C→W D. C→Y

A. The passage states that the final step in ubiquitination is the formation of an isopeptide bond between the C-terminus of ubiquitin and the epsilon amino group on a lysine residue on the substrate protein. If the lysine (K) in the substrate protein was mutated to a different amino acid, the final step could not occur (choice A is correct). Methionine (M) and cysteine (C) residues in the substrate protein are not involved in ubiquitination (choices B, C, and D are wrong).

An object passing through a light source will scatter light. In flow cytometry, both side scatter and forward scatter are measured and this gives information on particle size and topography, and solvent refractive index. The data presented in Figure 1 has already been gated on both side and forward scatter, in order to: A. Present data only on actual cells, and exclude data on cell fragments or antibodies not bound to antigen. B. Make sure all particles are treated equally as they pass through the flow cytometer. C. Ensure the solvent used in the experiment was an appropriate one for the type of cell under study. D. Exclude any cell that has a fluorophore-conjugated antibody bound nonspecifically to a surface antigen.

A. The question stem says that side and forward scatter give information on particle size and topography, and solvent refractive index. By gating on these parameters, you could make sure that all particles included on the dot plots are actual cells, instead of cell fragments or unbound antibodies (choice A is correct). Altering flow cytometer settings would ensure all particles are treated equally, but gating data would not do this (eliminate choice B). The same solvent would be used for both samples, and gating the data would not give any information on if the solvent used was a good one. Looking at side and forward scatter data may help you do this, but gating the collected data would not (eliminate choice C). Antibodies are very specific, and there is no way to determine if the fluorescently-labeled cells are the correct ones or not by only gating the data (eliminate choice D).

No one can think of a child and a story without thinking of the fairy tale. Is this a bad habit of an ignorant old world? Or can the fairy tale justify her popularity with truly edifying and educational results? If there were no other criterion at all, it would be enough that the children love the fairy tale; we give them fairy stories, first, because they like them. But that by no means lessens the fact that fairy tales are also good for them. How good? First, in their power of presenting truth through the guise of images. Elemental truths of moral law and human experience are presented in the fairy tale, and although the child is aware only of the image at the time, the truth enters with it, to be recognized at a later stage. How much the poorer should we be, mentally, without our early prophecy of the "ugly ducklings" we are to meet later in life! The English-speaking world bears witness to its verity in use of the title as an identifying phrase: "He has turned out a real ugly duckling" we say, and we understand the whole situation. The consideration of such familiar expressions as that of the ugly duckling suggests another good reason for giving the child his fairy lore. The reason is that to omit it is to deprive him of one important element in the full appreciation of mature literature. The literature of maturity is, naturally, permeated by the influence of the literature of childhood. The [one] whose infancy was nourished exclusively on tales adapted from science-made-easy, or from biographies of great men, must remain blind to these beauties of literature. He may look up the allusion, or identify the reference, but when that is done he is richer by only a fact or two; there is no remembered thrill in it for him, no suggestion to his imagination; and these are precisely the things which really count. Leaving out the fairy element is a loss to literary culture much as would be the omission of the Bible or of Shakespeare. For this, and for poetic presentation of truths in easily assimilated form, and because it gives joyous stimulus to the imagination, we may freely use the wonder tale. Another instructive form of children's literature is the nonsense tale. Under this head I wish to include all the merely funny tales of childhood. They all have a specific use and benefit, and are worth the repetition children demand for them. Their value lies, of course, in the tonic and relaxing properties of humor. It does us all good to laugh, if there is no sneer nor smirch in the laugh. But it especially does us good to laugh when we are children. More than this, however, humor teaches children, as it does their grown-up brethren, some of the facts and proportions of life. What keener teacher is there than the kindly satire? The wisdom which lies behind true humor is found in the nonsense tale of infancy as truly as in mature humor, but in its own kind and degree. Finally, let's consider the nature story. One of the best things good fiction does for any of us is to broaden our comprehension of other lots than our own. It is not possible wholly to sympathize with emotions engendered by experience which one has never had. The author who can write fiction of the right sort can do it; his is the gift of seeing inner realities, and of showing them to those who cannot see them for themselves. Fiction supplies an element of culture—that of the sympathies, which is invaluable. And the beginnings of this culture, this widening and clearing of the avenues of human sympathy, are especially easily made with children in the nature story. When you begin, "There was once a little furry rabbit," the child's curiosity is awakened by the very fact that the rabbit is not a child, but something of a different species altogether. He listens wide-eyed, while you say, "and he lived in a warm, cozy nest, down under the long grass with his mother." And because he has entered imaginatively into the feelings and fate of a creature different from himself, he has taken his first step out into the wide world of the lives of others. It may be a recognition of this factor which has led so many writers of nature stories into over-humanizing their four-footed or feathered heroes. The exaggeration is unnecessary, for there is enough community of lot suggested in the sternest scientific record to constitute a natural basis for sympathy on the part of the human animal. In one children's story, a bear cub is guided by her mother in how to prepare for approaching winter. The story turns particularly comical when the young bear encounters her first snow. Based on the passage, which of the following effects would the author expect this story to have on a young reader? A. An increased capacity to identify with beings different from him or herself B. An appreciation for the importance of wise preparation in order to avoid future hardship C. A greater appreciation for the ways in which nature tales teach children to sympathize with others D. A desire to learn more about how real mammals behave in the wild

A. This is a New Information question. A: Yes. The story in the question stem fits with the author's description of nature stories in the last paragraph of the passage: a story with animal characters, used as a way for a child to "step into the wide world of the lives of others" and "enter imaginatively into the feelings and fate of a [different creature]." B: No. This would be more like the "edifying and educational results" gained from fairy tales, which present "Elemental truths of moral law and human experience" (paragraph 1). Nothing in the story in the question stem indicates that it is a fairy tale. Rather, based on the last paragraph of the passage, it would be a nature story. And, there is nothing in the passage that suggests that nature stories teach this type of lesson. What they do instead is "broaden our comprehension of other lots than our own" by "widening and clearing of the avenues of human sympathy." C: No. While this nature tale may well teach the young reader to identify and sympathize with those different from him or herself (paragraph 5), there is no suggestion in the passage that young readers are aware of this effect. That is, the passage does not suggest that by reading nature tales children become more aware of the effect of reading nature tales. D: No. The author's description of nature stories in paragraph 5 (which fits the story in the question stem) suggests that children identify with the animals, not they become "young scientists" and want to learn more about actual animal behavior.

In now taking my tenth or twentieth look at London I have been careful to keep about me a pocket vision of New York, so as to see what London is like by making constantly sure what it is not like. A pocket vision, say, of Paris, would not serve the same purpose. That is a city of a legal loveliness, of a beauty obedient to a just municipal control. But New York and London may always be intelligibly compared because they are both the effect of an indefinite succession of anarchistic impulses, sometimes correcting and sometimes promoting, or at best sometimes annulling one another. Each has been mainly built at the pleasure of the private person, with the community now and then swooping down upon him, and turning him out of house and home to the common advantage. The sum of such involuntary reflection with me has been the perception that London was and is and shall be, and New York is and shall be, but has hardly yet been. We have as yet nothing to compare with at least a half of London magnificence, whatever we may have in the seventeen or eighteen hundred years that shall bring us of her actual age. As we go fast in all things, we may then surpass her; but this is not certain, for in her more deliberate way she goes fast, too. The sky-scrapers, Brooklyn Bridge, Madison Square Garden, and some vast rocketing hotels offer themselves rather shrinkingly for the contrast with those miles of imperial and municipal architecture which in London make you forget the leagues of mean little houses, and remember the palaces, the law-courts, the great private mansions, the dignified and shapely flats, the large department stores, the immense hotels, the bridges, the monuments of every kind. New York would not look so relatively little, so comparatively thin, if New York were a capital on the same lines as London. If New York were, like London, a political as well as a commercial capital, she would have the national edifices of Washington added to the sky-scrapers in which she is now unrivalled, and her competition would be architecturally much more formidable than it is. She would be the legislative centre of the different States of the Union, as London is of the different counties of the United Kingdom. Nothing could be done in palliation of the comparative want of antiquity in New York, for the present, at least; but it is altogether probable that in the fulfillment of her destiny she will be one day as old as London now is. The American must still come to England for the realization of certain social ideals towards which we may be now straining, but which do not yet enjoy general acceptance. The reader who knows New York has but to try and fancy its best, or even its better, society dispersing itself on certain grassy limits of Central Park on a Sunday noon or afternoon; or, on some week-day evening, leaving its equipages along the drives and strolling out over the herbage; or receiving in its carriages the greetings of acquaintance who make their way in and out among the wheels. The spectacle is a condition of that old, secure society which we have not yet lived long enough to have known, and which we very probably never shall know. Such civilization as we have will continue to be public and impersonal, like our politics, and our society in its specific events will remain within walls. It could not manifest itself outside without being questioned, challenged, denied; and upon reflection there might appear reasons why it is well so. A contemporary political scientist has argued that due to globalization, New York—home of the Statue of Liberty, the skyscrapers of Wall Street, and the U.N. headquarters—stands internationally as a more prominent symbol of American identity and political power than does Washington D.C. How does this analysis, if valid, relate to the comparison of New York and London in the passage? A. The analysis suggests that one of the differences described in the passage has become less pronounced. B. The analysis indicates that the author of the passage has misunderstood the relationship between architecture and political significance. C. The analysis confirms a trend already described by the author of the passage. D. The analysis contributes to a more complete understanding of what the author of the passage described as the impersonal character of American politics. A. This is a New Information question. A: Yes. This new information suggests that New York (like the London the author describes) is a political center as well as a financial one, so the difference emphasized in paragraph 3 seems to have decreased. B: No. The issue isn't a misrepresentation of the relationship between architecture and power (a relationship suggested by both the passage and the new information) but an inaccurate representation of the real political meaning and role of the city of New York. C: No. There is no trend towards a greater political significance for New York that is described in the passage. D: No. The new information does not relate to the personal or impersonal character of politics (nor does this issue ever come up in the passage). A contemporary political scientist has argued that due to globalization, New York—home of the Statue of Liberty, the skyscrapers of Wall Street, and the U.N. headquarters—stands internationally as a more prominent symbol of American identity and political power than does Washington D.C. How does this analysis, if valid, relate to the comparison of New York and London in the passage? A. The analysis suggests that one of the differences described in the passage has become less pronounced. B. The analysis indicates that the author of the passage has misunderstood the relationship between architecture and political significance. C. The analysis confirms a trend already described by the author of the passage. D. The analysis contributes to a more complete understanding of what the author of the passage described as the impersonal character of American politics.

A. This is a New Information question. A: Yes. This new information suggests that New York (like the London the author describes) is a political center as well as a financial one, so the difference emphasized in paragraph 3 seems to have decreased. B: No. The issue isn't a misrepresentation of the relationship between architecture and power (a relationship suggested by both the passage and the new information) but an inaccurate representation of the real political meaning and role of the city of New York. C: No. There is no trend towards a greater political significance for New York that is described in the passage. D: No. The new information does not relate to the personal or impersonal character of politics (nor does this issue ever come up in the passage).

The California whose death Buchanan has mourned is an agricultural state. Its "third-worldization" was also the source of the protection for workers in one of its largest industries. Workers' dignity had to be fought for, and still does. And the most rigorous defense of workers' rights was achieved by immigrants, without the help of political parties, against moneyed growers, and sometimes against the state's military resources. Migration hasn't only built workers' rights, though. It has built models for non-racialism and environmental community which stand as beacons to the rest of California and, indeed, the world. Beneath the flight path to Los Angeles' LAX airport lie the gridded streets of South Central Los Angeles. From the plane window it's grey block and grey block after grey block. A flash of green. Then grey block and grey block. Two thousand feet in the air is about as close as most Angelinos come to South Central. Its reputation as the epicenter of racial tension and riots scare most of the middle class away. It's an odd place to find Daryl Hannah up a tree. But Hollywood's conscience has roused itself in defense of some 350 families, almost all immigrants, from South and Central America and Asia, who work in one of the USA's largest urban gardens. The space, fourteen acres, sits at 41st and Alameda (which is Spanish for "tree-lined avenue") in South Central, on the frontier of a zone of warehouses and light industry to the East and a low-rise residential area to the West, amid smog and trains. And just off Alameda, it's a haven of calm, and a riot of plants. The ones I can name are fairly basic: beans, strawberries, onions, corn, blackberries, industrial quantities of cilantro, Washington Apples, pomegranate. And then there are the ones I can't. Alfredo Vaquero (translation: "cowboy") has been here since the land was given to the community in the wake of the 1992 uprisings. Originally, the land had been expropriated by the City of Los Angeles for a trash incinerator, but the city was forced to back down by the community. Alfredo and his son Jose point to papalo, pipicha, chipilin, overas, chayote (plants for which translation, at least for me, is impossible). The streets, and the crime in South Central, are a concern to father and son, and both know of friends whose kids have drifted towards the gangs. But stronger than the push off the streets is the pull towards the garden. There are between 100 and 150 species of plant on the farm. It's an oasis in an urban jungle. There's very little green space in South Central; 0.35 acres per 1,000 people, compared to an average of 1.5 acres per 1,000 elsewhere in the city. Within the garden there are foods from around the world, a variety that owes everything to migration, to hybridity, to diversity. It is a lush, quiet and safe space in an urban zone left for dead by the city authorities. It is a place where parents and grandparents sit in the shade of trees, exchanging banter, gossip and snacks, while their children play together. It is part of immigration's bounty. And it, too, is embattled. When the city expropriated the land, it was worth little. Now they plan to sell it back to the developers from whom they expropriated it, for $5 million (though its market value is around $15 million). The community that has been built through the garden has been responsible for pulling up the value of the land. Despite this, and despite attempts by the community to raise enough money to buy the land outright, to get the legal system to come to their defense, and even to use Hollywood stars to bring attention to their plight, they are once again to be turfed off. It's important to take a moment to remember, here, against the language of parasitism and sponging with which migrants are confronted, that we bring histories, cultures and new ideas to our new homes. To forget this is a step towards xenophobia. Food in Britain, for instance, would be deeply impoverished without generations of migration. And, of course, The United States itself is a country founded on migration, and the extermination of those there before. Yet even after bringing memories and cultures across vast distances, escaping the collapse of the rural economy, it seems that some migrants are destined to end up fighting exactly the same fights for land, equality and justice, even in their new homes. What is the most direct threat to migrants in general, according to the author? A. That they might fail to attain equitable treatment, even in their new homes B. That the limited green space in South Central - 0.35 acres per 1,000 people, will threaten food production C. That gangs and guns cause violence in their communities D. That they are subject to the risk of deportation

A. This is a Retrieval question. A: Yes. The final paragraph states that "Yet even after bringing memories and cultures across vast distances, escaping the collapse of the rural economy, it seems that some migrants are destined to end up fighting exactly the same fights for land, equality and justice, even in their new homes." Therefore, because the phrase "equitable treatment" suggests justice, fairness and impartiality, and because the author is speaking here about migrants in general (perhaps not just in California), this choice is the best supported by the passage. B: No. While it is true that there is very little green space in South Central, the author doesn't emphasize the amount of food production as the main benefit of urban gardens. That is, you don't know from the passage that without urban gardens, there would be insufficient food. C: No. While gangs described as a threat to the people of South Central L.A., it is only mentioned once, at the end of paragraph 3, and then there is no mention of guns. There is not enough support in the passage to call gang violence "the most direct threat to migrants in general." D: No. This answer choice relies on an assumption that many migrants are in the country illegally an assumption that is never mentioned or implied in the text.

In now taking my tenth or twentieth look at London I have been careful to keep about me a pocket vision of New York, so as to see what London is like by making constantly sure what it is not like. A pocket vision, say, of Paris, would not serve the same purpose. That is a city of a legal loveliness, of a beauty obedient to a just municipal control. But New York and London may always be intelligibly compared because they are both the effect of an indefinite succession of anarchistic impulses, sometimes correcting and sometimes promoting, or at best sometimes annulling one another. Each has been mainly built at the pleasure of the private person, with the community now and then swooping down upon him, and turning him out of house and home to the common advantage. The sum of such involuntary reflection with me has been the perception that London was and is and shall be, and New York is and shall be, but has hardly yet been. We have as yet nothing to compare with at least a half of London magnificence, whatever we may have in the seventeen or eighteen hundred years that shall bring us of her actual age. As we go fast in all things, we may then surpass her; but this is not certain, for in her more deliberate way she goes fast, too. The sky-scrapers, Brooklyn Bridge, Madison Square Garden, and some vast rocketing hotels offer themselves rather shrinkingly for the contrast with those miles of imperial and municipal architecture which in London make you forget the leagues of mean little houses, and remember the palaces, the law-courts, the great private mansions, the dignified and shapely flats, the large department stores, the immense hotels, the bridges, the monuments of every kind. New York would not look so relatively little, so comparatively thin, if New York were a capital on the same lines as London. If New York were, like London, a political as well as a commercial capital, she would have the national edifices of Washington added to the sky-scrapers in which she is now unrivalled, and her competition would be architecturally much more formidable than it is. She would be the legislative centre of the different States of the Union, as London is of the different counties of the United Kingdom. Nothing could be done in palliation of the comparative want of antiquity in New York, for the present, at least; but it is altogether probable that in the fulfillment of her destiny she will be one day as old as London now is. The American must still come to England for the realization of certain social ideals towards which we may be now straining, but which do not yet enjoy general acceptance. The reader who knows New York has but to try and fancy its best, or even its better, society dispersing itself on certain grassy limits of Central Park on a Sunday noon or afternoon; or, on some week-day evening, leaving its equipages along the drives and strolling out over the herbage; or receiving in its carriages the greetings of acquaintance who make their way in and out among the wheels. The spectacle is a condition of that old, secure society which we have not yet lived long enough to have known, and which we very probably never shall know. Such civilization as we have will continue to be public and impersonal, like our politics, and our society in its specific events will remain within walls. It could not manifest itself outside without being questioned, challenged, denied; and upon reflection there might appear reasons why it is well so. The author describes a hypothetical spectacle in New York's central park in order to: A. illustrate a difference between New York and London in the behavior of those of a certain social class. B. provide a concrete example of the impersonal character of New York politics. C. counter the suggestion that New York has a more relaxed and genteel atmosphere than does London. D. emphasize the architectural differences between New York and London.

A. This is a Structure question. A: Yes. The author introduces the park example in paragraph 4 with the claim that certain social ideals not present in New York are present in London, and it is clear that the ideals concern the behavior of the "better" classes. B : No. This choice is fine up until the last word: "politics." There is in fact a suggestion (in paragraph 5) that New York society is more impersonal than London society. However, no connection is made to politics. C: No. The author does not indicate that anyone has suggested or argued that New York is more relaxed or genteel. To counter a suggestion, the suggestion must be made in the first place, and there is no support for this in the passage. D: No. This is the right answer to the wrong question. While the author contrasts the architecture of the two cities in paragraphs 2 and 3, there is no connection made in the passage between architecture and the hypothetical scenario in Central Park (paragraphs 4 and 5).

I met Marcel Proust many years ago at a Christmas Eve party: a dark, pale man, of somewhat less than forty, with black hair and moustache; peculiar; urbane; one would have said, an æsthete; he continually twisted his body, arms, and legs into strange curves. Although he had then published only one book, and although the book had had no popular success, Proust was undoubtedly in 1910 a considerable lion. He sat at the hostess's own table and dominated it, and everybody at the party showed interest in him. Even I was somehow familiar with his name. A few weeks before his death, while searching for something else in an overcrowded bookcase, I came across my first edition of his Du côté de chez Swann, and decided to read the book again. I cared for it less, and I also cared for it more, than in 1913. The longueurs of it seemed to me to be insupportable, the clumsy centipedalian crawling of the interminable sentences inexcusable. The lack of form or construction may disclose artlessness, but it signifies effrontery too. Why wouldn't Proust have taken the trouble to learn to "write," in the large sense? Further, the monotony of subject and treatment becomes tiring. On the other hand, at the second reading, I was absolutely enchanted by some of the detail. Again, he cannot control his movements; he sees a winding path off the main avenue, and scampers away further and further and still further, merely because at the moment it amuses him to do so. You ask yourself: He is lost—will he ever come back? The answer is that often he never comes back, and when he does come back he employs a magic but illicit carpet, to the outrage of principles of composition which cannot be violated in a work of the first order. This abandon applies not only to any particular work, but to his work as a whole. The later books are full of self-indulgence; the work has ruined the moral of the author: phenomenon common enough. About two-thirds of Proust's work must be devoted to the minutiæ of social manners, the rendering ridiculous of a million varieties of snob. At this game Proust is a master. (Happily he does not conceal that, with the rest of mankind, he loves ancient blood and distinguished connections.) He will write you a hundred pages about a fashionable dinner at which nothing is exhibited except the littleness and the naïveté of human nature. His interest in human nature, if intense and clairvoyant, is exceedingly limited. Proust never "presents" a character; he never presents a situation; he fastens on one or two aspects of a character or a situation, and strictly ignores all the others. And he is scarcely ever heroic in size, as Balzac always was; he rarely exalts, and he nearly always lends characters flaws in a tolerant way. There are achievements in Proust's output I should rank as great. One is the section of Swann entitled "Un amour de Swann." He had a large theme here - love and jealousy. The love is physical and the object of it contemptible; the jealousy is fantastic. But the affair is handled with tremendous, grave, bitter, impressive power. The one fault of it is that he lets Swann go to a soirée musicale and cannot, despite several efforts, get him away from it in time to save the interest of the situation. Yet in the soirée musicale there are marvelous, inimitable things. Speaking generally, Proust's work declined steadily from Swann. A l'ombre des jeunes filles en fleurs was a fearful fall, and as volume followed volume the pearls were strung more and more sparsely on the winding string. That Proust was a genius is not to be doubted; and I agree that he made some original discoveries in the byways of psychological fiction. But that he was a supreme genius, as many critics, both French and English, would have us believe, I cannot admit. It can be inferred that the author would most likely endorse a literary work that: A. gives a focused exploration of large themes. B. features characters of ancient blood and distinguished connections. C. avoids the tedium he considers typical of psychological fiction. D. leaves little to the imagination by presenting scenes in full detail.

A. This is an Inference question. A: Yes. In paragraph 3, the author criticizes Proust for losing focus on his subject. In paragraph 5, he praises Proust for his use of "large themes" in Swann. So, of the four options, this choice describes a work the author would most probably like. B: No. The author does say in paragraph 4 that "all of mankind" is interested in "ancient blood and distinguished connections," but he does not connect that interest to successful or unsuccessful literature. So, even though it's possible to surmise that, as part of all of mankind, the author himself is interested in upper class characters and stories, you cannot infer that he prefers literary works that have this as a theme. C: No. The author does not say psychological fiction is by definition tedious. This choice attributes a claim or opinion to the author that is not supported by the passage text. D: No. While this choice seems to relate to Proust's tendency to focus on only one or two aspects of a scene (see paragraph 4), the author is at least in part praising Proust for being a "master" at this kind of description. So, you can not say the author would endorse the opposite approach (that is, presenting every aspect of a scene, leaving little out).

No one can think of a child and a story without thinking of the fairy tale. Is this a bad habit of an ignorant old world? Or can the fairy tale justify her popularity with truly edifying and educational results? If there were no other criterion at all, it would be enough that the children love the fairy tale; we give them fairy stories, first, because they like them. But that by no means lessens the fact that fairy tales are also good for them. How good? First, in their power of presenting truth through the guise of images. Elemental truths of moral law and human experience are presented in the fairy tale, and although the child is aware only of the image at the time, the truth enters with it, to be recognized at a later stage. How much the poorer should we be, mentally, without our early prophecy of the "ugly ducklings" we are to meet later in life! The English-speaking world bears witness to its verity in use of the title as an identifying phrase: "He has turned out a real ugly duckling" we say, and we understand the whole situation. The consideration of such familiar expressions as that of the ugly duckling suggests another good reason for giving the child his fairy lore. The reason is that to omit it is to deprive him of one important element in the full appreciation of mature literature. The literature of maturity is, naturally, permeated by the influence of the literature of childhood. The [one] whose infancy was nourished exclusively on tales adapted from science-made-easy, or from biographies of great men, must remain blind to these beauties of literature. He may look up the allusion, or identify the reference, but when that is done he is richer by only a fact or two; there is no remembered thrill in it for him, no suggestion to his imagination; and these are precisely the things which really count. Leaving out the fairy element is a loss to literary culture much as would be the omission of the Bible or of Shakespeare. For this, and for poetic presentation of truths in easily assimilated form, and because it gives joyous stimulus to the imagination, we may freely use the wonder tale. Another instructive form of children's literature is the nonsense tale. Under this head I wish to include all the merely funny tales of childhood. They all have a specific use and benefit, and are worth the repetition children demand for them. Their value lies, of course, in the tonic and relaxing properties of humor. It does us all good to laugh, if there is no sneer nor smirch in the laugh. But it especially does us good to laugh when we are children. More than this, however, humor teaches children, as it does their grown-up brethren, some of the facts and proportions of life. What keener teacher is there than the kindly satire? The wisdom which lies behind true humor is found in the nonsense tale of infancy as truly as in mature humor, but in its own kind and degree. Finally, let's consider the nature story. One of the best things good fiction does for any of us is to broaden our comprehension of other lots than our own. It is not possible wholly to sympathize with emotions engendered by experience which one has never had. The author who can write fiction of the right sort can do it; his is the gift of seeing inner realities, and of showing them to those who cannot see them for themselves. Fiction supplies an element of culture—that of the sympathies, which is invaluable. And the beginnings of this culture, this widening and clearing of the avenues of human sympathy, are especially easily made with children in the nature story. When you begin, "There was once a little furry rabbit," the child's curiosity is awakened by the very fact that the rabbit is not a child, but something of a different species altogether. He listens wide-eyed, while you say, "and he lived in a warm, cozy nest, down under the long grass with his mother." And because he has entered imaginatively into the feelings and fate of a creature different from himself, he has taken his first step out into the wide world of the lives of others. It may be a recognition of this factor which has led so many writers of nature stories into over-humanizing their four-footed or feathered heroes. The exaggeration is unnecessary, for there is enough community of lot suggested in the sternest scientific record to constitute a natural basis for sympathy on the part of the human animal. As it is used in the second paragraph, the phrase "Elemental truths of moral law and human experience" most nearly means: A. real aspects of mature life. B. the plots of fairy stories. C. rules that should govern human behavior. D. sympathy for unattractive people.

A. This is an Inference question. A: Yes. The author suggests in this paragraph that when children read about certain situations in fictional fairy tales, they are primed to recognize and understand similar real-life situations when they encounter them later in life. B: No. Children learn these "elemental truths" from the plots of fairy stories; the plots are not the elemental truths themselves. C: No. This choice goes too far beyond the scope of the passage, and takes the phrase "moral law" out of context. While "moral law" can be used in other circumstances to refer to rules of behavior, the author does not indicate that fairy stories tell us how to behave in certain situations. She only suggests that they help us to recognize and understand situations common to human life. D: No. Be careful not to read too much into the author's reference to "ugly ducklings." While you might imagine that reading the story should engender sympathy, the author does not suggest this herself. She only indicates that reading the story of the "ugly duckling" as a child would help us to recognize and understand "ugly ducklings" we encounter later in life.

Which of the following could also be units of the surface tension coefficient? A. kg/m2 B. W/s2 C. N/s2 D. J/m2

D. The given units of the coefficient of surface tension are N/m. Since J = N?m, we have that N/m = (J/m) / m = J/m2. Choice A is wrong because N/m = (kg × m/s2) / m = kg/s2, which is not the same as kg/m2. Choice B is wrong because W = J/s, so W/s2 = (J/s) / s2 = J/s3, which is not the same as J/m2. Choice C is wrong because N/s2 is not the same as N/m.

Improvisation in dance is the act of creating movement spontaneously. For some, creating movement on the spur of the moment can be easy and natural, while for others it may seem impossible. It is interesting to note that it may be easier for a person who has little or no training in dance to improvise than it is for an advanced dancer. Most people might think that the opposite would be true. The scenario, however, is played over time and time again in dance classes across the country—while improvising, the advanced dancer with a lot of technical training will fall back on what they know, whereas the beginning dancer, who does not have any preconceived notions of what they think they "should" do, or what the steps "should" be, moves freely and organically. Since improvisation is not about doing actual dance steps that a person would learn in a class, the participants are encouraged to move in a way that is unique and original to themselves. The use of improvisation is not only limited to dance, but can be found in other art forms. For example, a director of a theatre production could utilize improvisation to help the actors discover more about their characters. A painter may improvise brush strokes on a canvas to see what different textures he or she can create. A musician could improvise on an instrument to develop a new melody. In dance, improvisation can have several functions. For the dancer, it is an important tool that can be used as a way to break old movement patterns. For example, if a dancer is very good at performing slow and sustained movements, but not so skilled in performing fast and sharp movements, then improvisation movements using these different dynamic qualities would be a good exercise for them. Improvisation is also a good way for dancers to learn more about themselves as movers, not only on a physical level but also on cognitive and emotional levels. Because improvisation requires a tremendous amount of spontaneity and exploration on the part of the participant, a great deal can be learned relative to likes and dislikes, as well as strengths and weaknesses. Many choreographers use improvisation as a means of creating new movement for their dances. In a rehearsal session, a choreographer might ask the dancers to improvise in certain sections of the dance and then make the improvised movement a permanent part of the dance (often, this process is referred to as setting the movement). Some choreographers may ask the dancers to always improvise certain parts of a dance on stage, although improvising during a live performance usually requires the talents of highly skilled dancers in order for it to be effective each time. Creative movement is similar to improvisation in that both genres require the participant to create movements spontaneously. The difference between the two dance forms is that improvisation is usually focused on the movement, whereas creative movement is usually focused on moving for self-discovery. Creative movement specialist Mary Joyce explains: "In creative dance there is no 'right' or 'wrong.' There are not set routines the dancer has to learn. What is important in creative dance is that the dancer draw upon inner resources to make a direct and clear statement." It is important to note that the main focus of creative movement is not the product, but the process. Dance teachers will often use this dance form with children, and may feel that children benefit more from practicing creative movement than some of the more formal techniques, such as ballet. With creative movement, the children's individual personalities influence how they are going to move. The teacher usually leads and guides the students through different exercises, so that participants make most of the creative decisions. Many wonderful creative movement exercises allow children to learn about different life skills, such as self-awareness, socialization, cooperation and discipline, in addition to experiencing the joy of moving. For example, if a teacher wanted the children to learn about spatial awareness, she or he might instruct the children to move as close together as possible without touching or bumping into each other. This exercise would allow the children to concentrate on one another and also work together to achieve their goal. With which of the following statements would the author be most likely to agree? A. Improvisation is a good way for dancers to learn about themselves more so on cognitive and emotional levels than on a physical level. B. An effective live dance performance requires more than ease in creating movements that are unique and original to the performers. C. The main focus of creative movement is the product, not the process. D. Although creative movement can have multiple benefits for children, formal training techniques such as those taught in ballet, are often more beneficial.

B. B. This is an Inference question. A: No. In paragraph 3 the author states that "Improvisation is also a good way for dancers to learn more about themselves as movers, not only on a physical level but also on cognitive and emotional levels." However, this choice claims that dancers who improvise learn more on cognitive and emotional levels than on a physical one, while the passage only indicates that they would learn on all three levels.B: Yes. In the first paragraph, the author states that beginning dancers may find it easier to improvise, that is, "to move in a way that is unique and original to themselves." However, in paragraph 4, the author states that "improvising during a live performance usually requires the talents of highly skilled dancers in order for it to be effective each time." Therefore, you can infer that more than just ease in improvising is required for an effective live performance. C: No. This is the opposite of what the author claims in paragraph 5: it is the process, NOT the product that matters for creative movement. D: No. This is the opposite of what the author suggests at the beginning of paragraph 6, where she states that many dance teachers believe that "children benefit more from practicing creative movement than some of the more formal techniques, such as ballet." While you don't know for sure that the author agrees with these dance teachers, there is no evidence that the author disagrees (that is, believes the opposite to be true).

Which of the following compounds could serve as the secondary oxidant for the conversion of Compound II to Compound III? A. H2SO4 B. NaClO3 C. NaBH4 D. PCl3

B. H2SO4 is a strong acid and would protonate rather than oxidize (eliminate choice A). NaBH4 is used for reduction (eliminate choice C). Choice D is known to convert carboxylic acids into acid halides (eliminate D). Choice B is correct since it is a mild oxidizing agent with several oxygen atoms bonded to a highly electronegative Cl atom.

Compound I could be described as: A. both a heptose and an aldose. B. both a hexose and an aldose. C. both a pentose and a ketose. D. both a hexose and a ketose.

B. In its open chain form (below), it can be seen that the most oxidized side of the chain is an aldehyde, making Compound I an aldose (if this were a ketone, the sugar would be a ketose as in choices C and D). Counting the carbons shows six carbons, making it a hexose (choice B) while seven would be a heptose (eliminate choice A).

Which of the following is correct regarding the indicated biochemical pathway and its products? I. The Krebs cycle produces NADH and FADH2 following oxidation of acetyl-CoA carbons. II. Beta-oxidation produces NADH and acetyl-CoA following oxidation of acyl-CoA. III. The electron transport chain produces NADH and ATP following oxidation of electron carriers. A. I only B. I and II only C. II and III only D. I, II, and III

B. Item I is true: The Krebs Cycle produces NADH and FADH2, as well as CO2, which result from oxidation of carbons present on acetyl-CoA (choice C can be eliminated). Item II is true: beta-oxidation involves oxidation of acyl-CoA molecules and yields NADH, FADH2, as well as acetyl-CoA as products. Note that choice A does not include Item II (choice A can be eliminated). Item III is false: the electron transport chain does produce ATP as the result of oxidation of electron carriers, but oxidation of those carriers would yield NAD+, not NADH (choice D can be eliminated and choice B is correct).

Which of the following is a possible change in the Vmax and Km for Na+ transport when the Na+/H+ transporter is treated with amiloride? A. Vmax(up) Km(down) B. Vmax(down), Km(up) C. Vmax(unchanged), Km(down) D. Vmax(unchanged), Km(up)

B. Mixed-type inhibition is characterized by a decrease in maximal reaction rate (Vmax) and a variable change in Km, depending upon the inhibitor in question (choice B is correct). Note that choice D represents competitive inhibition.

Which of the following is most correct regarding eukaryotic chromosomal organization? A. Euchromatin is highly condensed, transcriptionally active DNA found in the eukaryotic nucleus. B. The histones found in eukaryotic chromosomes contain a relatively large amount of lysine and arginine amino acids. C. Euchromatin has equal transcriptional activity when compared to heterochromatin, however heterochromatin displays greater steric hindrance to DNA transcription proteins. D. Eukaryotic chromosomes can be found in the cytosol during transcription.

B. Since DNA is largely negatively charged due to the many phosphate molecules in its nucleic acid backbone, the histones, which allow DNA to be tightly condensed, would contain many positively charged amino acids, such as arginine and lysine (choice B is correct). Euchromatin is loosely condensed, relative to heterochromatin, to allow a high transcriptional activity (choice A is wrong). It has greater transcriptional activity compared to heterochromatin (choice C is wrong). Both transcription, as well as eukaryotic chromosomes, are found inside the nucleus (choice D is wrong).

What best characterizes the relative affinity of the Na+/H+ transporter for Na+ and Li+? A. Sodium displays greater affinity B. Lithium displays greater affinity C. Sodium and lithium display equal affinities D. Additional information is required to establish this relationship

B. The affinity of a substrate for a protein can be assessed by comparing the Km values for each, which are inversely related to affinity. In Figure 1, the concentration of cation necessary to reach 1/2 Vmax (otherwise known as Km) for sodium is approximately 8 mM whereas for lithium it is 1 mM. As lithium has a smaller Km, the Na+/H+ transporter has a greater affinity for lithium (choice B is correct).

What would happen if an aluminum coin (ρ = 2700 kg/m3, L = 1 cm, V = 1 × 10-8 m3) were gently placed on the surface of water? A. The buoyant force by itself would be sufficient to make the coin float. B. The force of surface tension by itself would be sufficient to make the coin float. C. Neither the buoyant force alone nor the force of surface tension alone would be sufficient to make the coin float, but combined, they would make the coin float. D. The coin would sink.

B. The maximum buoyant force for the coin is given by Fb = ρfVsubg, which for the given situation is Fb = (1000)(10-8)(10) = 10-4 N. The weight of the coin is w = mg = ρcoinVg = (2700)(10-8)(10) = 2.7 × 10-4 N. The weight is greater than the buoyant force, so eliminate choice A: the buoyant force alone is not good enough. The maximum force of surface tension is Fst,y = γL (twice, because the passage says that there are two of them). This comes out to Ftotal surface tension = (2)(0.07)(0.01) = 1.4 × 10-3 N. That's greater than the weight, so the surface tension alone can balance the weight and allow the coin to float.

In aqueous solutions, HF is a much weaker acid than HCl. However, when combined with Lewis acids, fluorinated systems make much stronger superacids than chlorinated ones. Which of the following best accounts for this phenomenon? A. Aqueous, solvated F- ions are more stable in aqueous media than Cl- ions. B. F- forms very stable complex anions through strong bonding to Lewis acids. C. The basicity of the Cl- ion hinders its inclusion in complex anions. D. The larger size of the Cl- anion sterically prevents its inclusion in the complex anion with a metal like Sb.

B. The same property that makes HF a weak acid in aqueous systems (relative instability of F-) makes it a very strong acid in the Lewis/Brønsted acid partner. F-, being unstable on its own, makes strong bonds to Lewis acids and very stable complex anions. Choice A is incorrect because F- is less stable in aqueous media than Cl- based on the charge density of its small radius. Choice C is incorrect because F- is more basic than Cl-. Choice D is incorrect because, while Cl- is larger than F-, it isn't large enough to create steric issues. Steric issues are generally only taken into account with bulky ligands on metals; such as large organic entities.

A certain planet is three times as massive as the earth and has twice the radius. If an object weighs 100 N on the earth, what would it weigh on this planet? (Note: The universal gravitational constant, G, is 6.7 × 10-11 N⋅m2/kg2, the mass of the earth is 6.0 × 1024 kg, and the radius of the earth is 6.4 × 106 m.) A. 25 N B. 75 N C. 100 N D. 150 N

B. The weight of an object (i.e., the force of gravity) on the surface of a planet or moon is w = GMm / R2, where m is the mass of the object, M is the mass of the planet or moon and R is the radius of the planet or moon. Instead of plugging the values of G, M, and R into the equation, we can use the proportion w ∝ M / R2. Since the mass of the planet is three times that of the earth and the radius is twice that of the earth, the weight of the object would be 3/22 or 3/4 times its value on the earth. The weight would be (0.75)(100 N) = 75 N.

Pulmonary surfactant is a naturally occurring lipoprotein that greatly reduces the coefficient of surface tension of the pulmonary fluid. Synthetic versions of pulmonary surfactants are often given neonatally to treat respiratory distress syndrome. Which of the following best explains this treatment? A. Decreasing the surface tension coefficient decreases the amount of fluid in the lungs. B. Decreasing the surface tension of pulmonary fluid allows the wet alveoli to expand more easily during respiration. Correct Answer C. Decreasing the surface tension of pulmonary fluid increases the force that holds the alveoli open during respiration. Your Answer D. Decreasing the surface tension of pulmonary fluid increases blood flow and decreases the probability of blood clots.

B. The passage makes clear that surface tension is a binding force that resists increase in surface area. Because the alveoli are small wet sacks (roughly spherical), a higher surface tension would make these wet spheres of fluid more difficult to inflate, particularly when they were deflated after exhalation (because a smaller sphere has a higher ratio of surface area to volume). Choice B is therefore correct. Choice A can be eliminated because there is nothing in the passage to support it: there is no implied relationship between surface tension and total volume of fluid; though it is true that repiratory distress syndrome can lead to increased fluid in the lungs, this is not a direct consequence of surface tension. Choice C is a trap answer: surface tension is a force that tends to minimize surface area, not maximize it, so it makes no sense that it would force the alveoli open rather than pulling them closed. Choice D confuses blood flow with the pulmonary fluid.

How many chromosomes would compose the parental and offspring genomes, respectively, in the Down syndrome situation described in Case #2? A. 46, 47 B. 45, 46 C. 46, 46 D. 45, 47

B. From Figure 1, the infant has 46 chromosomes (choice A and D can be eliminated). Most Down syndrome cases have three copies of chromosome 21, but a small minority will have only two copies, plus an additional long arm of chromosome 21 attached to chromosome 14; this is the Robertsonian translocation described in the passage. The main idea (as described in the passage) is that the parent has the majority of their genome intact, but that the long arm of their chromosome 21 has moved and has attached opposite the long arm of chromosome 14. The short arms of chromosomes 14 and 21 are lost but the passage describes how this has little effect. This would appear on the parental karyotype as a missing chromosome 21 (and an elongated chromosome 14), thus the parent would appear to have only 45 total chromosomes (choice C can be eliminated and choice B is correct). Note that since all the genetic material is present (just moved), the parent in this case was unaffected. This is called a balanced translocation since genetic information is neither missing nor added. When this parent has offspring, one possibility is that she will pass on her normal chromosome 21 as well as the Robertsonian chromosome (the 14:21 combination). The father of the child will pass on his normal chromosome 21, and the child will thus inherit three copies of chromosome 21.

Which of the following does NOT correctly describe the control of gene expression in eukaryotes? A. Methylation of DNA prevents the binding of transcription factors and hinders gene expression. B. The promoter region is the start point of transcription and contains a binding site for RNA polymerase that can be modified by repressors and enhancers. C. One method of inactivating DNA transcription in eukaryotes involves methylation of histones and increased heterochromatin formation. D. RNA interference (RNAi) is a posttranscriptional method of regulating gene expression.

B. Methylation of DNA (called imprinting) and methylation of histones with subsequent heterochromatin formation can both silence gene expression (choices A and C correctly describe methods of controlling gene expression and can be eliminated). RNAi is mediated by siRNA (small interfering RNA) or miRNA (micro RNA). These small non-coding RNAs bind to complementary sequences on mRNA and the resulting double stranded RNA is degraded. The reduction in mRNA leads to a reduction in the gene product (choice D correctly describes a method of controlling gene expression and can be eliminated). However, the promoter is just the binding site for RNA pol; the start point of transcription is located downstream from the promoter, and typically the regulatory regions for repressor/enhancer binding are between them (choice B does NOT correctly describe the regulation of gene expression and is the correct answer choice).

Which medication would be the most likely to alleviate the insulin resistance seen in PCOS patients? A. A drug that increases glycogenolysis in the liver B. A drug that induces cells to take up more glucose C. A drug that increases production of cortisol D. A drug that decreases release of glucagon

B. One of the hallmark symptoms of PCOS is insulin resistance (type II diabetes). When cells are resistant to insulin, glucose stays in the blood. Over time, high blood sugar levels can cause damage to the kidneys, the eyes, and blood vessels, in addition to other side effects. Diabetes drugs work to reduce blood sugar by assisting in the movement of glucose out of the blood and into cells (choice B is correct). Glycogenolysis is a process via which the liver releases glucose into the bloodstream in response to low blood sugar levels; increasing glycogenolysis would increase blood sugar levels, rather than lower them (choice A is wrong). One of the roles of cortisol is to increase blood sugar levels, so increasing cortisol would also lead to increased, not decreased, blood sugar levels (choice C is wrong). Finally, while the release of glucagon does increase blood sugar levels, and therefore suppressing its release would lower blood glucose levels, the release of glucagon is likely already suppressed in an individual with diabetes as blood sugar levels are already quite high. Suppressing glucagon further is not likely to improve this condition as much as a drug that targets the main problem, insulin resistance (choice B is better than choice D).

In cellular respiration, which step causes the difference in ATP yield occur between prokaryotes and eukaryotes and by how many ATP? A. The difference occurs in glycolysis and is 2 ATP. B. The difference occurs in the electron transport chain and is 2 ATP. C. The difference occurs in glycolysis and is 4 ATP. D. The difference occurs in the electron transport chain and is 4 ATP.

B. Recognize the opportunity to handle this question as a 2x2 elimination. The difference in ATP yield between prokaryotes and eukaryotes is 2, with prokaryotes producing 32 ATP and eukaryotes producing 30 ATP (choices C and D are wrong). In prokaryotes, the 2 NADH produced in glycolysis have direct access to the cell membrane where the electron transport chain occurs. However in eukaryotes, the electrons from glycolytic NADH must be transported into the mitochondria before they can enter the electron transport chain; furthermore they do not begin their interaction with the ETC until its second protein (coenzyme Q, choice A is wrong and choice B is correct). Glycolysis has the same output in both prokaryotes and eukaryotes.

If a saturated ammonia solution were placed under a vacuum, what would be the effect on the ammonia? A. The vapor pressure of NH3 would decrease. B. The boiling point of NH3 would decrease. C. The pKb of NH3 would increase. D. The solubility of NH3 would increase.

B. The boiling point temperature of a substance is the temperature at which its vapor pressure equals the atmospheric pressure. If the atmospheric pressure is lowered, the substance will boil when its vapor pressure is lower, i.e., at a lower temperature, making choice B best. The vapor pressure of a substance is not affected by the external pressure (eliminate choice A). The only way of changing the value of an equilibrium constant, K, and therefore a value like pKb, is to change the temperature (eliminate choice C). The solubility of a gas decreases with decreasing pressure (eliminatie choice D).

Is musical drama viable, and if so how? Is Lully or Gluck, or Wagner, or Verdi really doing with the form what we think it is capable of? The postulates and ideals, the dissatisfactions and controversies are renewed for every generation. Musical drama is viable, and I believe that the present intellectual climate ought to be especially clement to the idea. We have certain new advantages; but the old disadvantage is still with us—the seeming contradiction between ideals and corrupt practice. Singers, audiences, and impresarios are responsible, as they always have been; artistic values are thoroughly confused by the jumble of good and bad that forms our current repertory. This makes a serious consideration of opera both difficult and rare. Sometimes ridicule can cut true, but we should do without that familiar indiscriminate satire on the genre as a whole, delightful or deserved as often this may appear. At present the greater need is for a reassertion of presumptive virtues. Addison and W. S. Gilbert, delightful writers, have had their bad effect on the course of opera in Britain. The instant appeal of their approach makes it all the more necessary to keep reformulating the humorless, idealistic position. In opera today flabby relativism is certainly the danger, as anyone knows who buys an opera season ticket. Under the tacit assumption that everything is all right in its own terms, extremes of beauty and triviality are regularly placed together. In our opera houses, art and kitsch alternate night after night, with the same performers and the same audience, to the same applause, and with the same critical sanction. Confusion about the worth of opera is bound to exist when no distinction is drawn publicly between works like Orfeo and The Magic Flute on the one hand and like Salome and Turandot on the other. Talk is seldom about meaning, but about peripheral topics like opera in English, "modern" production methods and television techniques; all without an idea of what opera can or should be, and what is in the first place worth translating, producing, and televising. This may be understandable in our first flush of enthusiasm of discovery, but it is hard to think that all our operatic activity can proceed much longer without standards. A serious search for dramatic values, with the kind of informed respect for the tradition that is elsewhere second nature nowadays, can begin to provide a basis for standards. At the same time, such a search can begin to subvert the general indulgence towards anything that happens to hold the stage; it need not lack Wagner's steady hostility toward cheapness and philistinism. The postulate is that opera is an art form with its own integrity and its own particular limiting and liberating conventions. The critical procedure involves a sharpening of musical awareness and an expansion of our range of imaginative response to drama. Mozart's opera The Magic Flute, premiered in 1791, has recently been staged with a modern, urban setting and rewritten in English to include modern slang. The author's attitude toward this contemporary presentation would most likely be: A. critical, because changing the language of the opera to contemporary English trivializes a tradition that should be upheld. B. positive, if the contemporary production upholds the fundamental beauty and meaning of the original. C. appreciative, because of the potential for this updated version to expand the audience for contemporary opera. D. dismayed, because of the evident conflict between the strong artistic ideals of the original opera and the poor production values of the updated version.

B. This is a New Information question. A: No. See paragraph 3. The author indicates that language is relatively unimportant: "Talk is seldom about meaning, but about peripheral topics like opera in English, 'modern' production methods and television techniques; all without an idea of what opera can or should be, and what is in the first place worth translating, producing, and televising." Therefore, there is no evidence from the passage that the author would be critical of this change. B: Yes. See paragraph 3. The author argues that meaning and value are the most important considerations when analyzing opera. Therefore, we can conclude that the author would react well to this opera as long as the fundamental intent of the opera remains the same. C: No. The author never suggests that popularity is a valuable quality, or that increasing popularity should be a goal. D: No. Although this does connect to the issue raised in the second paragraph of a "seeming contradiction between ideals and corrupt practice," there is no indication that this opera would have poor production values.

In now taking my tenth or twentieth look at London I have been careful to keep about me a pocket vision of New York, so as to see what London is like by making constantly sure what it is not like. A pocket vision, say, of Paris, would not serve the same purpose. That is a city of a legal loveliness, of a beauty obedient to a just municipal control. But New York and London may always be intelligibly compared because they are both the effect of an indefinite succession of anarchistic impulses, sometimes correcting and sometimes promoting, or at best sometimes annulling one another. Each has been mainly built at the pleasure of the private person, with the community now and then swooping down upon him, and turning him out of house and home to the common advantage. The sum of such involuntary reflection with me has been the perception that London was and is and shall be, and New York is and shall be, but has hardly yet been. We have as yet nothing to compare with at least a half of London magnificence, whatever we may have in the seventeen or eighteen hundred years that shall bring us of her actual age. As we go fast in all things, we may then surpass her; but this is not certain, for in her more deliberate way she goes fast, too. The sky-scrapers, Brooklyn Bridge, Madison Square Garden, and some vast rocketing hotels offer themselves rather shrinkingly for the contrast with those miles of imperial and municipal architecture which in London make you forget the leagues of mean little houses, and remember the palaces, the law-courts, the great private mansions, the dignified and shapely flats, the large department stores, the immense hotels, the bridges, the monuments of every kind. New York would not look so relatively little, so comparatively thin, if New York were a capital on the same lines as London. If New York were, like London, a political as well as a commercial capital, she would have the national edifices of Washington added to the sky-scrapers in which she is now unrivalled, and her competition would be architecturally much more formidable than it is. She would be the legislative centre of the different States of the Union, as London is of the different counties of the United Kingdom. Nothing could be done in palliation of the comparative want of antiquity in New York, for the present, at least; but it is altogether probable that in the fulfillment of her destiny she will be one day as old as London now is. The American must still come to England for the realization of certain social ideals towards which we may be now straining, but which do not yet enjoy general acceptance. The reader who knows New York has but to try and fancy its best, or even its better, society dispersing itself on certain grassy limits of Central Park on a Sunday noon or afternoon; or, on some week-day evening, leaving its equipages along the drives and strolling out over the herbage; or receiving in its carriages the greetings of acquaintance who make their way in and out among the wheels. The spectacle is a condition of that old, secure society which we have not yet lived long enough to have known, and which we very probably never shall know. Such civilization as we have will continue to be public and impersonal, like our politics, and our society in its specific events will remain within walls. It could not manifest itself outside without being questioned, challenged, denied; and upon reflection there might appear reasons why it is well so. According to the author, London and New York, at the time in question, may be said to differ in: I. the degree of government influence on city planning. II. the prevalence of city parks and natural beauty. III. their significance for national politics. A. I only B. III only C. I and III only D. II and III only

B. This is a Retrieval/Roman Numeral question. I: False. This can be concluded from the contrast drawn in paragraph 1 between New York and London on one hand, and Paris on the other with its "beauty obedient to a just municipal control." Therefore, the author is suggesting that both London and Paris have had less government influence on city (municipal) planning. Thus they are similar, not different in this respect. II: False. No claim is made concerning a difference in parks or beauty between the two cities. III: True. This is the main point of paragraph of paragraph 3. The author states: "New York would not look so relatively little, so comparatively thin, if New York were a capital on the same lines as London. If New York were, like London, a political as well as a commercial capital, she would have the national edifices of Washington added to the sky-scrapers in which she is now unrivalled, and her competition would be architecturally much more formidable than it is. She would be the legislative centre of the different States of the Union, as London is of the different counties of the United Kingdom."

I met Marcel Proust many years ago at a Christmas Eve party: a dark, pale man, of somewhat less than forty, with black hair and moustache; peculiar; urbane; one would have said, an æsthete; he continually twisted his body, arms, and legs into strange curves. Although he had then published only one book, and although the book had had no popular success, Proust was undoubtedly in 1910 a considerable lion. He sat at the hostess's own table and dominated it, and everybody at the party showed interest in him. Even I was somehow familiar with his name. A few weeks before his death, while searching for something else in an overcrowded bookcase, I came across my first edition of his Du côté de chez Swann, and decided to read the book again. I cared for it less, and I also cared for it more, than in 1913. The longueurs of it seemed to me to be insupportable, the clumsy centipedalian crawling of the interminable sentences inexcusable. The lack of form or construction may disclose artlessness, but it signifies effrontery too. Why wouldn't Proust have taken the trouble to learn to "write," in the large sense? Further, the monotony of subject and treatment becomes tiring. On the other hand, at the second reading, I was absolutely enchanted by some of the detail. Again, he cannot control his movements; he sees a winding path off the main avenue, and scampers away further and further and still further, merely because at the moment it amuses him to do so. You ask yourself: He is lost—will he ever come back? The answer is that often he never comes back, and when he does come back he employs a magic but illicit carpet, to the outrage of principles of composition which cannot be violated in a work of the first order. This abandon applies not only to any particular work, but to his work as a whole. The later books are full of self-indulgence; the work has ruined the moral of the author: phenomenon common enough. About two-thirds of Proust's work must be devoted to the minutiæ of social manners, the rendering ridiculous of a million varieties of snob. At this game Proust is a master. (Happily he does not conceal that, with the rest of mankind, he loves ancient blood and distinguished connections.) He will write you a hundred pages about a fashionable dinner at which nothing is exhibited except the littleness and the naïveté of human nature. His interest in human nature, if intense and clairvoyant, is exceedingly limited. Proust never "presents" a character; he never presents a situation; he fastens on one or two aspects of a character or a situation, and strictly ignores all the others. And he is scarcely ever heroic in size, as Balzac always was; he rarely exalts, and he nearly always lends characters flaws in a tolerant way. There are achievements in Proust's output I should rank as great. One is the section of Swann entitled "Un amour de Swann." He had a large theme here - love and jealousy. The love is physical and the object of it contemptible; the jealousy is fantastic. But the affair is handled with tremendous, grave, bitter, impressive power. The one fault of it is that he lets Swann go to a soirée musicale and cannot, despite several efforts, get him away from it in time to save the interest of the situation. Yet in the soirée musicale there are marvelous, inimitable things. Speaking generally, Proust's work declined steadily from Swann. A l'ombre des jeunes filles en fleurs was a fearful fall, and as volume followed volume the pearls were strung more and more sparsely on the winding string. That Proust was a genius is not to be doubted; and I agree that he made some original discoveries in the byways of psychological fiction. But that he was a supreme genius, as many critics, both French and English, would have us believe, I cannot admit. The author describes meeting Proust in person. Which element of his impression of Proust appears to most inform the author's criticism of Proust's work? A. Magnetic personality B. Awkward physicality C. Early notoriety D. Intense emotion

B. This is a Structure question. A: No. No connection is made between Proust's charisma (that is, the fact that he drew the attention of all the guests) at the Christmas party and his writing; Proust's writing is not described in the passage as "magnetic" or enthralling in any way. Even if you are tempted to equate "power" in paragraph 5 with magnetism (which would itself be too far of a stretch), the author is praising rather than criticizing Proust's work in that part of the passage. B: Yes. In paragraph 1, the author describes how Proust "continually twisted his body, arms, and legs into strange curves." In paragraph 3, the author parallels this language when he says, "Again, he cannot control his movements." C: No. The author makes no connection between Proust's fame as an author and the faults in Proust's work. D: No. No mention is made of intense emotion in the author's description of meeting Proust. Also, the author praises rather than criticizes Proust's depiction of intense emotion (paragraph 5).

I met Marcel Proust many years ago at a Christmas Eve party: a dark, pale man, of somewhat less than forty, with black hair and moustache; peculiar; urbane; one would have said, an æsthete; he continually twisted his body, arms, and legs into strange curves. Although he had then published only one book, and although the book had had no popular success, Proust was undoubtedly in 1910 a considerable lion. He sat at the hostess's own table and dominated it, and everybody at the party showed interest in him. Even I was somehow familiar with his name. A few weeks before his death, while searching for something else in an overcrowded bookcase, I came across my first edition of his Du côté de chez Swann, and decided to read the book again. I cared for it less, and I also cared for it more, than in 1913. The longueurs of it seemed to me to be insupportable, the clumsy centipedalian crawling of the interminable sentences inexcusable. The lack of form or construction may disclose artlessness, but it signifies effrontery too. Why wouldn't Proust have taken the trouble to learn to "write," in the large sense? Further, the monotony of subject and treatment becomes tiring. On the other hand, at the second reading, I was absolutely enchanted by some of the detail. Again, he cannot control his movements; he sees a winding path off the main avenue, and scampers away further and further and still further, merely because at the moment it amuses him to do so. You ask yourself: He is lost—will he ever come back? The answer is that often he never comes back, and when he does come back he employs a magic but illicit carpet, to the outrage of principles of composition which cannot be violated in a work of the first order. This abandon applies not only to any particular work, but to his work as a whole. The later books are full of self-indulgence; the work has ruined the moral of the author: phenomenon common enough. About two-thirds of Proust's work must be devoted to the minutiæ of social manners, the rendering ridiculous of a million varieties of snob. At this game Proust is a master. (Happily he does not conceal that, with the rest of mankind, he loves ancient blood and distinguished connections.) He will write you a hundred pages about a fashionable dinner at which nothing is exhibited except the littleness and the naïveté of human nature. His interest in human nature, if intense and clairvoyant, is exceedingly limited. Proust never "presents" a character; he never presents a situation; he fastens on one or two aspects of a character or a situation, and strictly ignores all the others. And he is scarcely ever heroic in size, as Balzac always was; he rarely exalts, and he nearly always lends characters flaws in a tolerant way. There are achievements in Proust's output I should rank as great. One is the section of Swann entitled "Un amour de Swann." He had a large theme here - love and jealousy. The love is physical and the object of it contemptible; the jealousy is fantastic. But the affair is handled with tremendous, grave, bitter, impressive power. The one fault of it is that he lets Swann go to a soirée musicale and cannot, despite several efforts, get him away from it in time to save the interest of the situation. Yet in the soirée musicale there are marvelous, inimitable things. Speaking generally, Proust's work declined steadily from Swann. A l'ombre des jeunes filles en fleurs was a fearful fall, and as volume followed volume the pearls were strung more and more sparsely on the winding string. That Proust was a genius is not to be doubted; and I agree that he made some original discoveries in the byways of psychological fiction. But that he was a supreme genius, as many critics, both French and English, would have us believe, I cannot admit. In the context of the passage, the mention of Balzac serves to: A. contrast Proust with a writer whom the author considers a genius of greater magnitude. B. add a dimension to the author's description of Proust's work. C. illustrate that writing need not be overly concerned with detail. D. justify a criticism of Proust's later works.

B. This is a Structure question. A: No. The author does not equate heroic style with genius. Nothing is indicated about the author's opinion of Balzac beyond that the author believes Balzac's work or style was "heroic in size." B: Yes. In paragraph 4, the author begins by describing Proust's work. Then Balzac is introduced with the continuation word "and," indicating another point in a similar vein. The author uses Balzac to define Proust's attention to minute detail by contrast to a writer (Balzac) who writes on a larger ("heroic") scale. C: No. This answer seems to imply the author prefers Balzac's "heroic" style to Proust's, but there is no support for this notion in the passage. In fact, the author is describing an aspect of writing at which "Proust is a master" in paragraph 4. Furthermore, even if the author were suggesting that Proust concentrates too much on detail at the cost of other things (such as depiction of human nature), this would be a critique of Proust himself, not of detailed writing in general. D: No. No connection is made between Balzac and Proust's later works, works which are mentioned in the third paragraph and in the final paragraph as part of separate points (Proust's self-indulgence and the decline in the quality of Proust's work).

Modern civilization's insulation from natural phenomena has, of course, altered our relationship to the weather substantially. The material successes of two centuries of applied science have thoroughly dislodged the old deities as active presences in earthly affairs, and our apparent control over nature has emptied it much of its metaphysical significance. Like the wilds that once confronted a traveler just outside the city's gates, the weather has been suburbanized and Disneyfied, its inclemencies signifying, for the most part, little more than inconvenience. In the intensely humanized environment where much of the First World lives—an environment so man-made as to often be called "dehumanizing"—we rarely pay attention to the sky as a scene of drama and omen; it would seem that for many people the TV weatherman has equal, if not more, phenomenal reality. And while we might find vestiges of an earlier relationship in the siege vocabulary of storm "watches," "alerts," and "warnings"—and the World War I-derived jargon of the weather "front"—even here our responses are directed by a sense of banal predictability. With modern telecommunications mobilizing the populace to greater preparedness, we can rest assured, the newscasters tell us, that the authorities will have the situation firmly under control. And yet there seems an inexorable logic in the return of the repressed. Recent events in New Orleans, for instance, not only revealed how fragile is our illusion of insulation from the elements, even in a rich industrial power like the United States, but also made starkly clear how human action or inaction can be a decisive factor in so-called natural disasters. Like the ancient floods, the submerged neighborhoods and floating corpses left by Hurricane Katrina spoke to us of much more than the mindless physical processes of wind and tide. It may be that our earlier myths about the weather were, in a certain sense, more accurate. Consider the implications of "Weather as a Force Multiplier: Owning the Weather in 2025," a white paper submitted to U.S. Air Force Chief of Staff General Ronald R. Fogelman in 1996 as part of a major study "to examine the concepts, capabilities, and technologies the United States will require to remain the dominant air and space force in the future." In a reprise of John von Neumann's 1950s project, "Owning the Weather" foresees a time in the coming two decades when ultrasophisticated computer-prediction models will allow U.S. "weather-force specialists" to make finely tuned, "routine" interventions in the atmosphere to "provide battlespace dominance to a degree never before imagined." As the authors, a panel of Air Force officers, write: Weather-modification is a force multiplier with tremendous power that could be exploited across the full spectrum of war-fighting environments. From enhancing friendly operations or disrupting those of the enemy via small-scale tailoring of natural weather patterns to complete dominance of global communications and counter-space control, weather-modification offers the war fighter a wide range of possible options to defeat or coerce an adversary. But despite their enthusiasm, the authors feel compelled to note certain theoretical problems, conceding that "concern about the unintended consequences of attempting to 'control' the weather is well justified." In a footnote citing an article titled "Chaos Theory: The Essentials for Military Applications," they explain that because weather is a chaotic system, it is extremely sensitive to minor changes, which cascade through the system's points of instability with wildly unpredictable outcomes—the proverbial butterfly effect, by which a flap of gossamer wings in China brings on a Category 4 hurricane in the Caribbean. In other words, you may get much more than you bargained for. "Clearly," they conclude, "there are definite physical limits to mankind's ability to control nature, but the extent of those physical limits remains an open question." If we can no longer believe that the sky, the oceans, and the forests are inhabited by a sacred presence that demands respect, and instead see nature, in Ruskin's words, only as "a succession of meaningless monotonous accident," ripe for our exploitation and destruction, we have become equally unable to understand our own proper place within Creation. The tragic irony of our egocentric disenchantment of the world is this: we may one day come to "own the weather" only to find that the weather has turned as ugly and as rapacious as we. What role does the second paragraph play in the author's argument as a whole in the passage? A. It illustrates the fact that humankind will never be able to truly predict the weather. B. It provides a tangible example supporting an idea expressed by the final sentence of the passage. C. It illustrates the author's concept of dramatic, Disneyfied nature. D. It likens Hurricane Katrina to past disasters of biblical proportions.

B. This is a Structure question. A: No. While the author suggests this to be true elsewhere in the passage, it isn't the purpose of the second paragraph. The example of Katrina is given to show how we are less insulated from the weather than we might think. B: Yes. This paragraph provides the example of Katrina to illustrate the point of this paragraph that old ideas about the weather may in fact be correct. The final sentence of the passage returns to this idea: that we cannot truly control the weather, and that it can turn against us. C: No. The Hurricane Katrina example is the opposite of the benign, man-made, Disneyfied nature the author describes in paragraph 1. D: No. This answer relies on an outside-knowledge embellishment of the author's mention of "ancient floods" in the second paragraph. In addition, the author is using the Hurricane Katrina example to illustrate an outcome of our contemporary approach to nature: its relation to past events is peripheral.

Modern civilization's insulation from natural phenomena has, of course, altered our relationship to the weather substantially. The material successes of two centuries of applied science have thoroughly dislodged the old deities as active presences in earthly affairs, and our apparent control over nature has emptied it much of its metaphysical significance. Like the wilds that once confronted a traveler just outside the city's gates, the weather has been suburbanized and Disneyfied, its inclemencies signifying, for the most part, little more than inconvenience. In the intensely humanized environment where much of the First World lives—an environment so man-made as to often be called "dehumanizing"—we rarely pay attention to the sky as a scene of drama and omen; it would seem that for many people the TV weatherman has equal, if not more, phenomenal reality. And while we might find vestiges of an earlier relationship in the siege vocabulary of storm "watches," "alerts," and "warnings"—and the World War I-derived jargon of the weather "front"—even here our responses are directed by a sense of banal predictability. With modern telecommunications mobilizing the populace to greater preparedness, we can rest assured, the newscasters tell us, that the authorities will have the situation firmly under control. And yet there seems an inexorable logic in the return of the repressed. Recent events in New Orleans, for instance, not only revealed how fragile is our illusion of insulation from the elements, even in a rich industrial power like the United States, but also made starkly clear how human action or inaction can be a decisive factor in so-called natural disasters. Like the ancient floods, the submerged neighborhoods and floating corpses left by Hurricane Katrina spoke to us of much more than the mindless physical processes of wind and tide. It may be that our earlier myths about the weather were, in a certain sense, more accurate. Consider the implications of "Weather as a Force Multiplier: Owning the Weather in 2025," a white paper submitted to U.S. Air Force Chief of Staff General Ronald R. Fogelman in 1996 as part of a major study "to examine the concepts, capabilities, and technologies the United States will require to remain the dominant air and space force in the future." In a reprise of John von Neumann's 1950s project, "Owning the Weather" foresees a time in the coming two decades when ultrasophisticated computer-prediction models will allow U.S. "weather-force specialists" to make finely tuned, "routine" interventions in the atmosphere to "provide battlespace dominance to a degree never before imagined." As the authors, a panel of Air Force officers, write: Weather-modification is a force multiplier with tremendous power that could be exploited across the full spectrum of war-fighting environments. From enhancing friendly operations or disrupting those of the enemy via small-scale tailoring of natural weather patterns to complete dominance of global communications and counter-space control, weather-modification offers the war fighter a wide range of possible options to defeat or coerce an adversary. But despite their enthusiasm, the authors feel compelled to note certain theoretical problems, conceding that "concern about the unintended consequences of attempting to 'control' the weather is well justified." In a footnote citing an article titled "Chaos Theory: The Essentials for Military Applications," they explain that because weather is a chaotic system, it is extremely sensitive to minor changes, which cascade through the system's points of instability with wildly unpredictable outcomes—the proverbial butterfly effect, by which a flap of gossamer wings in China brings on a Category 4 hurricane in the Caribbean. In other words, you may get much more than you bargained for. "Clearly," they conclude, "there are definite physical limits to mankind's ability to control nature, but the extent of those physical limits remains an open question." If we can no longer believe that the sky, the oceans, and the forests are inhabited by a sacred presence that demands respect, and instead see nature, in Ruskin's words, only as "a succession of meaningless monotonous accident," ripe for our exploitation and destruction, we have become equally unable to understand our own proper place within Creation. The tragic irony of our egocentric disenchantment of the world is this: we may one day come to "own the weather" only to find that the weather has turned as ugly and as rapacious as we. Which of the following situations is most analogous to the "tragic irony" outlined in the passage? A. A novice gardener fails to tend carefully to his plants, thinking that nature will take care of itself. After a drought and the presence of several pests uncontrolled by watering or pesticides, the plants in the garden fail to yield edible vegetables. B. A corporation introduces of a foreign species of plant into an agricultural area because its crops are more profitable than those of the local species. The newly imported plant thrives in the area but at the expense of nearly all other edible crops; consequently, the soil's acid levels become imbalanced and the land is no longer fit for agriculture. C. A woman assumes her pet dog has no capacity for violence because of his emotional attachment to her family. In a fit of jealousy, the dog one day bites the woman's youngest child, a toddler. D. A weatherman suggests a storm watch for his local area. Thousands of people prepare for heavy rains and gale-force winds. For the entire day the storm was anticipated, the sun shines, the temperature is 88 degrees, and there is scarcely a breeze.

B. This is an Analogy question. A: No. In the last sentence of the passage, the author says, "The tragic irony of our egocentric disenchantment of the world is this: we may one day come to 'own the weather' only to find that the weather has turned as ugly and as rapacious as we." The right answer for this question must therefore involve a scenario where someone assumes nature can be dominated only to have it respond in a seemingly vengeful way. In this scenario, the gardener exhibits neglect, thinking that nature will take care of itself; there is no attempt to control or manipulate nature. B: Yes. At the end of the passage, the author says, "The tragic irony of our egocentric disenchantment of the world is this: we may one day come to 'own the weather' only to find that the weather has turned as ugly and as rapacious as we." This extends the idea introduced in the previous paragraph that by trying to control the weather, we may unintentionally bring about catastrophic events. The right answer for this question must therefore involve a scenario where someone assumes nature can be dominated only to have it respond in a seemingly vengeful way. This answer choice involves the human attempt to dominate nature; by introducing a foreign species of plant, the corporation is attempting to manipulate nature for humans' (or at least the corporation's) benefit. Then, nature responds back by negatively affecting humans' lives (or at least subverting the corporation's goals). This is a good fit with the argument made in the passage. C: No. While this answer contains the essential element of nature turning ugly in the end, it lacks the element of attempted human dominance of nature. There is no information provided in this choice about an attempt to subdue or control the dog. D: No. This answer choice does not contain the "ugly" result of the "tragic irony" described in the last sentence of the passage. While it may be tempting because of the author's discussion of weathermen in the first paragraph, it doesn't answer the question being asked here.

I met Marcel Proust many years ago at a Christmas Eve party: a dark, pale man, of somewhat less than forty, with black hair and moustache; peculiar; urbane; one would have said, an æsthete; he continually twisted his body, arms, and legs into strange curves. Although he had then published only one book, and although the book had had no popular success, Proust was undoubtedly in 1910 a considerable lion. He sat at the hostess's own table and dominated it, and everybody at the party showed interest in him. Even I was somehow familiar with his name. A few weeks before his death, while searching for something else in an overcrowded bookcase, I came across my first edition of his Du côté de chez Swann, and decided to read the book again. I cared for it less, and I also cared for it more, than in 1913. The longueurs of it seemed to me to be insupportable, the clumsy centipedalian crawling of the interminable sentences inexcusable. The lack of form or construction may disclose artlessness, but it signifies effrontery too. Why wouldn't Proust have taken the trouble to learn to "write," in the large sense? Further, the monotony of subject and treatment becomes tiring. On the other hand, at the second reading, I was absolutely enchanted by some of the detail. Again, he cannot control his movements; he sees a winding path off the main avenue, and scampers away further and further and still further, merely because at the moment it amuses him to do so. You ask yourself: He is lost—will he ever come back? The answer is that often he never comes back, and when he does come back he employs a magic but illicit carpet, to the outrage of principles of composition which cannot be violated in a work of the first order. This abandon applies not only to any particular work, but to his work as a whole. The later books are full of self-indulgence; the work has ruined the moral of the author: phenomenon common enough. About two-thirds of Proust's work must be devoted to the minutiæ of social manners, the rendering ridiculous of a million varieties of snob. At this game Proust is a master. (Happily he does not conceal that, with the rest of mankind, he loves ancient blood and distinguished connections.) He will write you a hundred pages about a fashionable dinner at which nothing is exhibited except the littleness and the naïveté of human nature. His interest in human nature, if intense and clairvoyant, is exceedingly limited. Proust never "presents" a character; he never presents a situation; he fastens on one or two aspects of a character or a situation, and strictly ignores all the others. And he is scarcely ever heroic in size, as Balzac always was; he rarely exalts, and he nearly always lends characters flaws in a tolerant way. There are achievements in Proust's output I should rank as great. One is the section of Swann entitled "Un amour de Swann." He had a large theme here - love and jealousy. The love is physical and the object of it contemptible; the jealousy is fantastic. But the affair is handled with tremendous, grave, bitter, impressive power. The one fault of it is that he lets Swann go to a soirée musicale and cannot, despite several efforts, get him away from it in time to save the interest of the situation. Yet in the soirée musicale there are marvelous, inimitable things. Speaking generally, Proust's work declined steadily from Swann. A l'ombre des jeunes filles en fleurs was a fearful fall, and as volume followed volume the pearls were strung more and more sparsely on the winding string. That Proust was a genius is not to be doubted; and I agree that he made some original discoveries in the byways of psychological fiction. But that he was a supreme genius, as many critics, both French and English, would have us believe, I cannot admit. As it is described in the passage, the relationship between Proust and Balzac is most similar to that between: A. amateur and professional opera singers. B. microscopic and landscape photographers. C. archetypal heroes and villains. D. journalists and novelists.

B. This is an Analogy question. A: No. This choice represents a contrast in levels of skill; the author does not say in the passage that one author is more skilled, experienced, or competent than the other. B: Yes. This choice gives a contrast in size of subject. The author describes Proust as focusing on only one or two aspects of a scene or character, showing flaws, and then describes Balzac's work as "heroic in size." Photography on a microscopic level would be focusing on smaller parts of a much larger whole, whereas landscape photography would present the larger whole itself. Therefore, this is the best answer of the four options. C: No. This choice is playing on the word heroic, but to choose it is to lose sight of the question. Neither Proust nor Balzac is portrayed as heroic or villainous in character. D: No. The main difference between a journalist and a novelist is that the journalist reports on reality and the novelists invents. There is nothing to suggest either Proust or Balzac bases his work on experience or reporting, nor does the passage make a distinction between the two in that way.

By bringing together in compact form all of the arts of show business, the television commercial has mounted the most serious assault on capitalist ideology since the publication of Das Kapital. Of course, the practice of capitalism has its contradictions. Cartels and monopolies, for example, undermine the theory. But television commercials make hash of it. The television commercial is not at all about the character of products to be consumed. It is about the character of the consumers of products. Just as the television commercial empties itself of authentic product information so that it can do its psychological work, image politics empties itself of authentic political substance for the same reason. Television gives image a bad name. For on television the politician does not so much offer the audience an image of himself, as offer himself as an image of the audience. And therein lies one of the most powerful influences of the television commercial on political discourse. It is a sobering thought to recall that there are no photographs of Abraham Lincoln smiling, that his wife was in all likelihood a psychopath, and that he was subject to lengthy fits of depression. He would hardly have been well suited for image politics. This transformation of politics would be surprising to the redoubtable George Orwell. When Orwell wrote in his famous essay "The Politics of the English Language" that politics has become a matter of "defending the indefensible," he was assuming that politics would remain a distinct, although corrupted, mode of discourse. That the defense of the indefensible would be conducted as a form of amusement did not occur to him. He feared the politician as deceiver, not as entertainer. Commercials have the advantage of vivid visual symbols through which we may easily learn the lessons being taught. Among those lessons are that short and simple messages are preferable to long and complex ones; that drama is to be preferred over exposition; that being sold solutions is better than being confronted with questions about problems. History can play no significant role in image politics. Television is a speed-of-light medium, a present-centred medium. Everything presented in moving pictures is experienced as happening "now." Moreover, television needs to move fragments of information, not to collect and organize them. In the Age of Show Business and image politics, political discourse is emptied not only of ideological content, but of historical content, as well. We are rendered unfit to remember. For if remembering is to be something more than nostalgia, it requires a contextual basis—a theory, a vision, a metaphor—something within which facts can be organized and patterns discerned. The politics of image and instantaneous news provides no such context. With television, we vault ourselves into a continuous, incoherent present. Orwell was wrong once again, at least for the Western democracies. He envisioned the demolition of history, but believed that it would be accomplished by the state. But as Huxley more accurately foretold it, nothing so crude as all that is required. Seemingly benign technologies devoted to providing the populace with a politics of image, instancy and therapy may disappear history just as effectively, perhaps more permanently. We ought also to look to Huxley, not Orwell, to understand the threat that television and other forms of imagery pose to the foundation of liberal democracy—namely, to freedom of information. Orwell quite reasonably supposed that the state, through naked suppression, would control the flow of information, particularly by the banning of books. Thus, Orwell envisioned that (1) government control over (2) printed matter posed a serious threat to Western democracies. He was wrong on both counts. What we are confronted with now is the problem posed by the economic and symbolic structure of television. Those who run television do not limit our access to information but in fact widen it. Our Ministry of Culture is Huxleyian, not Orwellian. What we watch is a medium which presents information in a form that renders it simplistic, nonsubstantive, nonhistorical and noncontextual; that is to say, information packaged as entertainment. By the "psychological work" (paragraph 2) of television commercials, the author most likely means: A. presenting information in a simplistic form. B. affecting people's choices. C. providing therapy. D. deceiving the public.

B. This is an Inference question. A: No. While the simplistic form of television ads may contribute to the "work" they do, their simplistic nature is not the work, that is the goal, in and of itself. That is, the form in which TV ads appear is a means to an end, not the end itself. B: Yes. This is the most reasonable inference of the four options. Paragraph 1 states that ads are presenting products to the public, and paragraph 2 discusses how political ads "offer" politicians to the public in a similar way. It is reasonable to conclude, therefore, that these ads are attempting to influence people's choices between products and politicians or political programs. C: No. While the author does refer to "Seemingly benign technologies devoted to providing the populace with a politics of image, instancy and therapy" (paragraph 4), this (as in answer choice A) is referring to how ads are presented rather than the "work" they are intended to accomplish. D: No. This choice mixes up Orwell's ideas with the author's argument. It was Orwell, not the author, who "feared the politician as deceiver, not as entertainer" (paragraph 3); the author of the passage argues that Orwell was mistaken. Furthermore, the author never indicates that ads are deceptive; make sure not to use your own opinion or outside knowledge to answer a CARS question.

Nothing short of this curious sympathy could have brought into close relations two young men so hostile as Roony Lee and Henry Adams, but the chief difference between them as collegians consisted only in their difference of scholarship: Lee was a total failure; Adams a partial one. Both failed, but Lee felt his failure more sensibly, so that he gladly seized the chance of escape by accepting a commission offered him by General Winfield Scott in the force then being organized against the Mormons. He asked Adams to write his letter of acceptance, which flattered Adams's vanity more than any Northern compliment could do, because, in days of violent political bitterness, it showed a certain amount of good temper. The diplomat felt his profession. If the student got little from his mates, he got little more from his masters. The four years passed at college were, for his purposes, wasted. Harvard College was a good school, but at bottom what the boy disliked most was any school at all. He did not want to be one in a hundred -- one per cent of an education. He regarded himself as the only person for whom his education had value, and he wanted the whole of it. He got barely half of an average. Long afterwards, when the devious path of life led him back to teach in his turn what no student naturally cared or needed to know, he diverted some dreary hours of faculty-meetings by looking up his record in the class-lists, and found himself graded precisely in the middle. In the one branch he most needed—mathematics—barring the few first scholars, failure was so nearly universal that no attempt at grading could have had value, and whether he stood fortieth or ninetieth must have been an accident or the personal favor of the professor. Here his education failed lamentably. At best he could never have been a mathematician; at worst he would never have cared to be one; but he needed to read mathematics, like any other universal language, and he never reached the alphabet. Beyond two or three Greek plays, the student got nothing from the ancient languages. Beyond some incoherent theories of free-trade and protection, he got little from Political Economy. He could not afterwards remember to have heard the name of Karl Marx mentioned, or the title of "Capital." He was equally ignorant of Auguste Comte. These were the two writers of his time who most influenced its thought. The bit of practical teaching he afterwards reviewed with most curiosity was the course in Chemistry, which taught him a number of theories that befogged his mind for a lifetime. The only teaching that appealed to his imagination was a course of lectures by Louis Agassiz on the Glacial Period and Paleontology, which had more influence on his curiosity than the rest of the college instruction altogether. The entire work of the four years could have been easily put into the work of any four months in after life. Harvard College was a negative force, and negative forces have value. Slowly it weakened the violent political bias of childhood, not by putting interests in its place, but by mental habits which had no bias at all. It would also have weakened the literary bias, if Adams had been capable of finding other amusement, but the climate kept him steady to desultory and useless reading, till he had run through libraries of volumes which he forgot even to their title-pages. Rather by instinct than by guidance, he turned to writing, and his professors or tutors occasionally gave his English composition a hesitating approval; but in that branch, as in all the rest, even when he made a long struggle for recognition, he never convinced his teachers that his abilities, at their best, warranted placing him on the rank-list, among the first third of his class. Instructors generally reach a fairly accurate gauge of their scholars' powers. Henry Adams himself held the opinion that his instructors were very nearly right, and when he became a professor in his turn, and made mortifying mistakes in ranking his scholars, he still obstinately insisted that on the whole, he was not far wrong. Student or professor, he accepted the negative standard because it was the standard of the school. Which of the following statements is/are supported by information in the passage? Adams was a man beholden to vanity regarding his appearance. Adams returned to teach and was motivated by instilling a new generation with useful information that was well received by his students. Adams had a predilection for politics and literature. A. I only B. III only C. I and III only D. I, II and III

B. This is an Inference/Roman Numeral question. I: False. This statement is not supported by the passage. While Adams' vanity is mentioned in the first paragraph, there was no mention of Adams being vain specifically about his appearance. II: False. While it is correct that Adams did teach, the passage states that Adams went "back to teach in his turn what no student naturally cared or needed to know" (paragraph 2). Therefore the claim that Adams was "motivated by instilling a new generation with useful information that was well received by his students" is inconsistent with the text. III: True. By stating that the Harvard experience "weakened the violent political bias of childhood" (paragraph 4), the author suggests that Adams did have an interest in, or predilection towards, politics in the first place. The author also mentions in paragraph 1 that because of Lee's request, "The diplomat felt his profession." As for literature, in paragraph 4 the author states: "Rather by instinct than by guidance, he turned to writing," suggesting that Adams had some interest himself in literature.

The formation of the lactone in Compound IV is an example of: A. an addition reaction. B. a tautomerization. C. an esterification. D. a saponification.

C. A new ester group (the lactone) is formed in Compound IV (choice C is correct). Ester formation is the result of nucleophilic addition-elimination, not nucleophilic addition (eliminate choice A). Tautomerization refers to a rapid equilibrium between structural isomers, often a ketone and its enol form, which are not present in this reaction scheme (eliminate choice B). Saponification is the process of transforming an ester into a carboxylic acid using base, the opposite of ester formation (eliminate choice D).

According to the passage and Figure 1, which of following are correctly paired as oxidizing and reducing agents for the reaction catalyzed by the enzyme acyl-coenzyme A dehydrogenase? A. Oxidizing agent: acyl-CoA; Reducing agent: FAD+ B. Oxidizing agent: FAD+; Reducing agent: acetyl-CoA C. Oxidizing agent: FAD+; Reducing agent: acyl-CoA D. Oxidizing agent: acyl-CoA; Reducing agent: FADH2

C. A reducing agent reduces another compound in a reaction and is itself oxidized. An oxidizing agent oxidizes another compound in a reaction and is itself reduced. One can determine a compound is reduced in a reaction by the gain of electrons and bonds to H. Acyl-CoA would be the compound oxidized due to the loss of electrons during double bond formation, making it the reducing agent. FAD+ is reduced to FADH2 making FAD+ the oxidizing agent (choice A is wrong and choice C is correct). Acetyl-CoA is the end product of β-oxidation and not involved in the first enzymatic reaction (choice B is wrong). FADH2 is the end product of the first enzymatic reaction and does not function as a reducing agent in β-oxidation (choice D is wrong).

Improvisation in dance is the act of creating movement spontaneously. For some, creating movement on the spur of the moment can be easy and natural, while for others it may seem impossible. It is interesting to note that it may be easier for a person who has little or no training in dance to improvise than it is for an advanced dancer. Most people might think that the opposite would be true. The scenario, however, is played over time and time again in dance classes across the country—while improvising, the advanced dancer with a lot of technical training will fall back on what they know, whereas the beginning dancer, who does not have any preconceived notions of what they think they "should" do, or what the steps "should" be, moves freely and organically. Since improvisation is not about doing actual dance steps that a person would learn in a class, the participants are encouraged to move in a way that is unique and original to themselves. The use of improvisation is not only limited to dance, but can be found in other art forms. For example, a director of a theatre production could utilize improvisation to help the actors discover more about their characters. A painter may improvise brush strokes on a canvas to see what different textures he or she can create. A musician could improvise on an instrument to develop a new melody. In dance, improvisation can have several functions. For the dancer, it is an important tool that can be used as a way to break old movement patterns. For example, if a dancer is very good at performing slow and sustained movements, but not so skilled in performing fast and sharp movements, then improvisation movements using these different dynamic qualities would be a good exercise for them. Improvisation is also a good way for dancers to learn more about themselves as movers, not only on a physical level but also on cognitive and emotional levels. Because improvisation requires a tremendous amount of spontaneity and exploration on the part of the participant, a great deal can be learned relative to likes and dislikes, as well as strengths and weaknesses. Many choreographers use improvisation as a means of creating new movement for their dances. In a rehearsal session, a choreographer might ask the dancers to improvise in certain sections of the dance and then make the improvised movement a permanent part of the dance (often, this process is referred to as setting the movement). Some choreographers may ask the dancers to always improvise certain parts of a dance on stage, although improvising during a live performance usually requires the talents of highly skilled dancers in order for it to be effective each time. Creative movement is similar to improvisation in that both genres require the participant to create movements spontaneously. The difference between the two dance forms is that improvisation is usually focused on the movement, whereas creative movement is usually focused on moving for self-discovery. Creative movement specialist Mary Joyce explains: "In creative dance there is no 'right' or 'wrong.' There are not set routines the dancer has to learn. What is important in creative dance is that the dancer draw upon inner resources to make a direct and clear statement." It is important to note that the main focus of creative movement is not the product, but the process. Dance teachers will often use this dance form with children, and may feel that children benefit more from practicing creative movement than some of the more formal techniques, such as ballet. With creative movement, the children's individual personalities influence how they are going to move. The teacher usually leads and guides the students through different exercises, so that participants make most of the creative decisions. Many wonderful creative movement exercises allow children to learn about different life skills, such as self-awareness, socialization, cooperation and discipline, in addition to experiencing the joy of moving. For example, if a teacher wanted the children to learn about spatial awareness, she or he might instruct the children to move as close together as possible without touching or bumping into each other. This exercise would allow the children to concentrate on one another and also work together to achieve their goal. Which of the following best summarizes the author's primary purpose? A. Analyzing the differences between improvisation dance and creative dance B. Discussing the ways in which both the spontaneous movements of improvisation and creative dance foster self-discovery C. Comparing and contrasting two related dance forms: improvisation and creative dance D. Arguing that creative movement is better for gaining self-awareness than improvisation

C. C. This is a Primary Purpose question. A: No. The passage is not focused entirely on the differences between the two dance forms but instead makes a point to mention similarities between the two as well. This choice therefore is too narrow to be the primary purpose of the entire passage. B: No. This choice claims that the passage was written primarily to demonstrate that the two different dance forms foster self-discovery. While the passage does discuss this, it is too narrow to be the primary purpose of the entire passage. C: Yes. The passage as a whole discusses both the similarities and differences between the two forms, and presents them as related. Therefore this is best expression of the primary purpose of the passage. D: No. The author maintains a neutral tone throughout the passage. Nothing in the way the information is presented implies that the author is arguing in favor of creative movement as opposed to improvisation dance.

Which of the following is LEAST likely involved in the antibiotic action of QACs? A. Membrane protein solubilization B. Leakage of cytosolic content C. Detergent for the cell membrane D. Disruption of the peptidoglycan layer

D. The passage states that QACs act as an "amphiphilic scaffold", containing a positively charged nitrogen head group and nonpolar tail groups. This amphiphilic behavior is common to lipids as well as detergent molecules. Since detergents are capable of disrupting a cell membrane by solubilizing its lipid and protein components, choices A and C are possible antibiotic mechanisms and thus incorrect. Disrupting the cell membrane layer will cause cytosolic contents to leak (eliminate choice B). QACs do not target the peptidoglycan layer and therefore choice D is correct.

How will a smoke detector behave if it were exposed to an environment composed of fluorine and neon rather than nitrogen and oxygen? A. It will be less sensitive since fluorine and neon have higher ionization energies. B. It will be less sensitive since fluorine and neon have lower ionization energies. C. It will be more sensitive since fluorine and neon have higher ionization energies. D. It will be more sensitive since fluorine and neon have lower ionization energies.

C. In this two-by-two problem, the second part of the answer choices is best to address initially. Ionization energy increases up and to the right on the periodic table. Since fluorine and neon are to the right of nitrogen and oxygen, they have higher ionization energies, eliminating choices B and D. In a fluorine and neon atmosphere, a smaller proportion of molecules between the plates will be ions, making the detector more sensitive to any factors that may neutralize them. For example, if 1 ion is neutralized, this will have a greater percentage impact on a detector with only 100 ions between the plates compared to one with 100,000 ions between the plates.

Release of which of the following peptides will increase the activity of β-oxidation? I. Glucagon II. Insulin III. Epinephrine A. I only B. I and II only C. I and III only D. II and III only

C. Item I is true: β-oxidation is activated when the body is low on glucose or energy and requires the production of ketone bodies via ketogenesis or ATP via the Krebs Cycle/ETC. Glucagon is one of the hormones released in a starved state (choice D can be eliminated). Item II is false: insulin is released in a fed state and results in glycogenesis and lipogenesis, not β-oxidation (choice B can be eliminated). Item III is true: epinephrine is a peptide released when the body is in greater need of energy in a sympathetic "fight or flight" state. It will induce the activation of β-oxidation to provide additional ATP for the cells (choice A can be eliminated and choice C is correct).

The addition of HCl(g) to SO3(g) yields the superacidic compound HSO3Cl(l). The oxidation state of sulfur in this reaction does which of the following? A. Increases by 2 B. Increases by 1 C. Remains unchanged D. Decreases by 1

C. SO3 incorporates HCl as H+ and Cl-, resulting in the product shown below: The sulfur atom makes a bond with Cl-, but formally breaks half of a double bond with oxygen, leading to no change in the oxidation state. An alternative solution is to assign oxidation states. For SO3, oxygen has an oxidation state of -2 and sulfur has an oxidation state of +6. In HSO3Cl, oxygen has an oxidation state of -2, contributing a total of -6. Chlorine has an oxidation state of -1 and hydrogen has an oxidation state of +1. Therefore, the oxidation state of sulfur remains at +6 in order for the molecule to maintain an overall neutral charge. Also, note that sulfur has 6 valence electrons, so its maximum oxidation state is +6. Since sulfur already has a +6 oxidation state in the starting compound SO3, the oxidation state cannot increase any further, making choices A and B impossible.

In the formation of Compound V, what is the purpose of the sodium methoxide? A. The oxygen acts as an electrophile to attack the carbonyl carbon. B. The sodium cation acts as an electrophile to attack the carbonyl carbon. C. The oxygen acts as a nucleophile to attack the carbonyl carbon. D. The methyl group acts as an electrophile, which is attacked by the carbonyl oxygen.

C. Sodium methoxide is an ionic compound with a negative charge on the oxygen and a positive charge on the sodium. As electron dense atoms make good nucleophiles, the oxygen will act as a nucleophile (eliminate choice A). Through both resonance and induction, it can be seen that the carbonyl carbon is electrophilic. Electrophiles react with nucleophiles, not other electrophiles, so choice B can be eliminated. The carbon of the methoxide anion is neither nucleophilic nor electrophilic, therefore, choice D can be eliminated. However, the electrophilic carbonyl carbon will react with the nucleophilic oxygen, which makes choice C the correct answer.

Which of the following is true regarding the specific enzymes involved in DNA replication? A. DNA topoisomerases function to produce supercoils during DNA replication. B. DNA polymerase can only initiate DNA replication following the placement of a RNA primer by the enzyme DNA primase. C. DNA ligase functions by catalyzing phosphodiester bond formation between the ends of two strands of DNA. D. Telomerase preserves genetic information found in DNA by adding a sequence of DNA onto the 5' ends of DNA strands.

C. The Okazaki fragments produced during DNA replication must be joined by DNA ligase with the formation of a phosphodiester bond (choice C is correct). DNA topoisomerases create cuts at portions of the DNA helix to remove supercoils created during replication (choice A is wrong). The enzyme responsible for creating the RNA primer is RNA primase (choice B is wrong). Telomerase adds DNA to the 3' ends of DNA strands (choice D is wrong).

Which of the following best explains the observed difference in electron affinity between chlorine and fluorine? A. Fluorine has a smaller atomic volume than chlorine, resulting in weaker repulsive forces between the existing electrons and the electron being added. B. Fluorine has a greater atomic volume than chlorine, resulting in weaker repulsive forces between the existing electrons and the electron being added. C. Fluorine has a smaller atomic volume than chlorine, resulting in stronger repulsive forces between the existing electrons and the electron being added. D. Fluorine has a greater atomic volume than chlorine, resulting in stronger repulsive forces between the existing electrons and the electron being added.

C. This problem can be approached with a two-by-two strategy. Atomic volume is proportional to atomic radius so fluorine is smaller than chlorine. This eliminates choices B and D. The smaller atomic volume leads to greater repulsive forces between the existing electrons and the electron being added, eliminating choice D and making choice C the best answer.

Which of the following best represents the signs of the thermodynamic changes associated with the transformation from the native state to the molten globule state? A. ΔH > 0; ΔS < 0 B. ΔH < 0; ΔS < 0 C. ΔH > 0; ΔS > 0 D. ΔH < 0; ΔS > 0

C. When going from the native state to the molten globule state, the highly ordered tertiary structure is "loosened," as per the passage. This implies a more disordered structure, and hence a positive ΔS. Increasing entropy very often follows with increasing temperature (eliminate choices A and B). The intramolecular interactions and van der Waals forces that hold the protein in its folded state must be broken to some degree to achieve this flexibility. This implies that ΔH is positive (eliminate choice D).

Compton scattering involves an inelastic collision between a photon and an electron in which an incident photon transfers some of its energy to the electron and is deflected. Which of the following best explains why Compton scattered photons affect conventional X-ray scans but are not detected in DEI scans? A. Compton scattered photons will always be deflected by at least 90° from their original paths. B. Even Compton scattered photons that reach the analyzer have shorter wavelengths that won't reflect from it. C. Even Compton scattered photons that reach the analyzer have longer wavelengths that won't reflect from it. D. The monochromatic X-rays used in DEI will not undergo Compton scattering.

C. Compton scattering reduces the energy of the X-ray photons in addition to deflecting them. According to the energy equation for photons, E = hf = hc / λ, as energy decreases, wavelength increases. This eliminates choice B and makes choice C correct. Choice A is false: there's no justification in the passage or question stem for the idea that Compton scattering must deflect electrons by at least 90°; moreover, if that were true, Compton scattered photons wouldn't reach the imaging screen in conventional X-ray scans either. Choice D is also false: there's no implied restriction on the wavelength of photons that can undergo Compton scattering (though it is true that more energetic photons are more likely to undergo Compton scattering than the lower energy photons that are absorbed via the photoelectric effect).

Which of the following explains why a water droplet forms a roughly spherical shape if not acted upon by external forces? A. Gravitational force attracts all the mass to an equal distance from the center of mass, forming a sphere. B. Surface tension pulls all the molecules apart as far as they can go, and the farthest apart they can be is distributed in a spherical shape. C. A sphere minimizes the surface area of the shape for a given volume, which yields the lowest-energy state for the molecules. D. The surface tension of the air, also a fluid, compresses the water into a spherical shape.

C. The passage indicates at the end of the first paragraph that the lowest-energy state is one of minimum surface area. Choice C is true, that a sphere encloses the greatest volume with the lowest surface area of all three-dimensional shapes. Choice A is wrong because gravity is an extremely small force here and has negligible effect, and furthermore, if the mass were all an equal distance from the center, the shape would be a hollow sphere, not a solid one. Choice B is wrong because surface tension comes from a force that pulls molecules together, not apart; it's attractive, not repulsive. Choice D is wrong because air, as a gas, has essentially zero surface tension (its intermolecular forces are very, very small).

Addition of reactants to an equilibrated system will result in a change of which of the following? A. Keq B. ΔG°' C. ΔG D. The rate constant k

C. Addition of a reactant (or a product) would change the ΔG for that reaction (choice C is correct). The remaining three kinetic and thermodynamic constants do not vary with reagent concentration. The relationship between ΔG°' and ΔG is described by the equation ΔG = ΔG°' + RT ln Q. Given that Q changes with reagent concentration, ΔG must also change. As ΔG°' specifies a specific set of reagent concentrations, temperature, and pressure.

Which of the following metabolic derangements are most likely to be found in DKA? I. Accumulation of intracellular glucose II. Increased plasma fatty acid concentration III. Decrease in plasma pH A. I only B. III only C. II and III only Correct Answer D. I, II, and III Your Answer

C. Item I is false: Due to the lack of insulin, cells will experience a shortage of intracellular glucose due to a lack of expression of GLUT4 channels which are responsible for transporting extracellular glucose in to the intracellular compartment (choices A and D are wrong). Item II is true: the passage states that a lack of insulin leads to increase lipolysis and release of free fatty acids into the bloodstream (choice B can be eliminated and choice C is correct). Note that Item III is also true: the "acidosis" part of "ketoacidosis" implies a decreased plasma pH.

Which of the following are possible causes of prerenal acute renal failure? I. Hemorrhage II. Diabetes mellitus III. Myocardial infarction A. I only B. II only C. I and III only Correct Answer D. I, II, and III

C. Prerenal acute renal failure, as stated in paragraph 2, is a fast onset renal failure that results from diminished blood flow to the kidneys. Item I is true: Hemorrhaging would cause decreased blood volume, and thus decreased blood flow to the kidneys. This could lead to renal failure (choice B can be eliminated). Item II is false: Although diabetes mellitus can lead to renal failure, this is due to cumulative glomerular and tubular damage that occurs over a long period of time. This would lead to chronic renal failure, not acute renal failure (choice D can be eliminated). Item III is true: A myocardial infarct (heart attack) can cause a lower cardiac output, and thus decreased blood flow to the kidneys (choice A can be eliminated and choice C is correct).

The process by which the autonomic nervous system activates HCN channels is best described by which of the following? A. Sympathetic stimulation causes acetylcholine release, thereby activating cardiac tyrosine kinase receptors, resulting in elevated cAMP levels. B. Parasympathetic stimulation causes acetylcholine release, thereby activating tyrosine kinase receptors, resulting in elevated cAMP levels. C. Sympathetic stimulation causes epinephrine release, thereby activating G-protein coupled receptors, resulting in elevated cAMP levels. D. Parasympathetic stimulation causes epinephrine release, thereby activating G-protein coupled receptors, resulting in elevated cAMP levels.

C. The passage states that cAMP binding opens and activates HCN channels, causing increased depolarization of the heart, and therefore should increase heart rate. The sympathetic nervous system is responsible for increasing heart rate, while the parasympathetic nervous system is responsible for slowing it (choices B and D are wrong). Activation of the sympathetic nervous system results in the release of norepinephrine from post-ganglionic neurons and epinephrine from the adrenal medulla (choice A is wrong). Epinephrine acts on G-protein coupled receptors, which activate adenylate cyclase to convert ATP to cAMP (choice C is correct).

According to information in the passage, in which of the following solvents would the fluorescence of solvent-exposed tryptophan be expected to occur at the shortest wavelength? A. Acetone B. Isopropyl amine C. Ethanol D. Benzene

D. The passage states that as the tryptophan residue is exposed to a more polar environment, which accompanies the unfolding of the protein molecule, a shift of the fluorescence maximum to longer wavelengths is observed. By this logic, the most nonpolar solvent environment should give fluorescence with the shortest wavelength. Of the four choices, benzene is by far the least polar, and is hence the correct answer.

Based on the results presented in Table 1, which of the following statements is correct? A. Increased serum sodium is associated with decreased risk of cerebral edema because the RR is less than 1. B. Increased serum glucose predicts increased risk of cerebral edema because the upper limit of the confidence interval is greater than 1. C. Increased serum urea nitrogen is associated with increased risk of cerebral edema because the lower bound of the confidence interval is greater than 1. D. Increased serum bicarbonate is associated with the greatest risk of cerebral edema because its upper confidence interval limit is the highest amongst the compounds tested

C. The relative risk (RR) ratio provides us with meaningful information as to whether or not there is an increased risk associated with a given condition (in this case, increased concentration of four different electrolytes) and the occurrence of an event (i.e., cerebral edema). In order to be statistically meaningful, both the RR and lower bound of the confidence interval (CI) must exceed 1 (choice C is correct). True, the RR for increased sodium is less than 1; however, the lower limit of the CI is below 1 and the upper limit is above 1, so we cannot determine a statistically significant relationship between increased serum sodium and cerebral edema (choice A is wrong). Serum glucose has both RR and upper CI limit greater than 1 but the lower limit for the CI is less than 1; thus, the result is equivocal and we cannot say that increased serum glucose increases the risk of cerebral edema (choice B is wrong). RR is not the best statistical test for comparing the relative effects of different variables on the incidence or severity of any given event; in addition, the result for bicarbonate has a lower CI limit less than 1 (choice D is wrong).

Ten mL of a 1 M NaOH solution is added to equal volumes of two saturated solutions. One solution contains an excess of Zn(OH)2(s) and the other an excess of Fe(OH)2(s). Why does more Zn(OH)2 dissolve in the first flask, but more Fe(OH)2 precipitate in the second flask? COMPOUND KSP Zn(OH) 21.8 x 10-14 Fe(OH) 21.1 × 10-14 A. The Ksp of Zn(OH)2 is greater, allowing more solid to dissolve. B. The Ksp of Fe(OH)2 is smaller, so its molar solubility is lower. C. Zn(OH)2 acts as an acid and neutralizes the NaOH, while Fe(OH)2 cannot neutralize the NaOH. D. Due to the common ion effect, the Zn(OH)2 equilibrium shifts to the right while the Fe(OH)2 equilibrium shifts to the left.

C. The solubility of a compound increases as Ksp for that compound increases. More moles of the Zn(OH)2 will be dissolved than Fe(OH)2 in the starting solutions based on Ksp values. Choices A and B are true statements, but they don't answer the question of what happens after the NaOH is added. The dissociation equation for either compound has the general form: . When NaOH is added, the OH- concentration is increased and we would expect the equilibria of both solutions to shift to the left as predicted by Le Chatelier's principle (or the common ion effect). We would not expect the equilibrium to shift one way for the Zn(OH)2 and the other way for the Fe(OH)2 based on this principle. Therefore, D is eliminated and only C can be the correct answer by process of elimination. When excess hydroxide reacts with solid Zn(OH)2 it forms a new soluble coordination compound according to the following reaction: . The Fe(OH)2 does not have the ability to form such a soluble compound, and therefore behaves as predicted by the common ion effect.

Nothing short of this curious sympathy could have brought into close relations two young men so hostile as Roony Lee and Henry Adams, but the chief difference between them as collegians consisted only in their difference of scholarship: Lee was a total failure; Adams a partial one. Both failed, but Lee felt his failure more sensibly, so that he gladly seized the chance of escape by accepting a commission offered him by General Winfield Scott in the force then being organized against the Mormons. He asked Adams to write his letter of acceptance, which flattered Adams's vanity more than any Northern compliment could do, because, in days of violent political bitterness, it showed a certain amount of good temper. The diplomat felt his profession. If the student got little from his mates, he got little more from his masters. The four years passed at college were, for his purposes, wasted. Harvard College was a good school, but at bottom what the boy disliked most was any school at all. He did not want to be one in a hundred -- one per cent of an education. He regarded himself as the only person for whom his education had value, and he wanted the whole of it. He got barely half of an average. Long afterwards, when the devious path of life led him back to teach in his turn what no student naturally cared or needed to know, he diverted some dreary hours of faculty-meetings by looking up his record in the class-lists, and found himself graded precisely in the middle. In the one branch he most needed—mathematics—barring the few first scholars, failure was so nearly universal that no attempt at grading could have had value, and whether he stood fortieth or ninetieth must have been an accident or the personal favor of the professor. Here his education failed lamentably. At best he could never have been a mathematician; at worst he would never have cared to be one; but he needed to read mathematics, like any other universal language, and he never reached the alphabet. Beyond two or three Greek plays, the student got nothing from the ancient languages. Beyond some incoherent theories of free-trade and protection, he got little from Political Economy. He could not afterwards remember to have heard the name of Karl Marx mentioned, or the title of "Capital." He was equally ignorant of Auguste Comte. These were the two writers of his time who most influenced its thought. The bit of practical teaching he afterwards reviewed with most curiosity was the course in Chemistry, which taught him a number of theories that befogged his mind for a lifetime. The only teaching that appealed to his imagination was a course of lectures by Louis Agassiz on the Glacial Period and Paleontology, which had more influence on his curiosity than the rest of the college instruction altogether. The entire work of the four years could have been easily put into the work of any four months in after life. Harvard College was a negative force, and negative forces have value. Slowly it weakened the violent political bias of childhood, not by putting interests in its place, but by mental habits which had no bias at all. It would also have weakened the literary bias, if Adams had been capable of finding other amusement, but the climate kept him steady to desultory and useless reading, till he had run through libraries of volumes which he forgot even to their title-pages. Rather by instinct than by guidance, he turned to writing, and his professors or tutors occasionally gave his English composition a hesitating approval; but in that branch, as in all the rest, even when he made a long struggle for recognition, he never convinced his teachers that his abilities, at their best, warranted placing him on the rank-list, among the first third of his class. Instructors generally reach a fairly accurate gauge of their scholars' powers. Henry Adams himself held the opinion that his instructors were very nearly right, and when he became a professor in his turn, and made mortifying mistakes in ranking his scholars, he still obstinately insisted that on the whole, he was not far wrong. Student or professor, he accepted the negative standard because it was the standard of the school. The author's primary purpose in the passage is to: A. detail the academic life of a sub-par college student's experience and lobby for changing the system of education B. argue for the necessity of a liberal arts education in order to create a well-educated citizenry. C. critically recount Adams' college experiences. D. recount the positive and negative experiences of students at Harvard.

C. This is a Main Point/Primary Purpose question. A: No. While the passage does provide some details about Adams' education, it does not explicitly lobby for, or make suggestions concerning, education. B: No. There is no mention of preparing well-educated citizens. C: Yes. The author casts a critical eye on Adams' college experiences by speaking throughout the passage in largely negative terms; the value gained in lessening Adams' political biases (paragraph 4) still came out of the negative nature of the experiences themselves. D: No. While one could infer that some of the experiences described applied to other students as well (e.g., how they were evaluated), the main focus of the passage is on Adams himself. Furthermore, the emphasis is on the negative experiences; even the positive outcome mentioned in the beginning of the last paragraph came out ofnegative experiences.

Nothing short of this curious sympathy could have brought into close relations two young men so hostile as Roony Lee and Henry Adams, but the chief difference between them as collegians consisted only in their difference of scholarship: Lee was a total failure; Adams a partial one. Both failed, but Lee felt his failure more sensibly, so that he gladly seized the chance of escape by accepting a commission offered him by General Winfield Scott in the force then being organized against the Mormons. He asked Adams to write his letter of acceptance, which flattered Adams's vanity more than any Northern compliment could do, because, in days of violent political bitterness, it showed a certain amount of good temper. The diplomat felt his profession. If the student got little from his mates, he got little more from his masters. The four years passed at college were, for his purposes, wasted. Harvard College was a good school, but at bottom what the boy disliked most was any school at all. He did not want to be one in a hundred -- one per cent of an education. He regarded himself as the only person for whom his education had value, and he wanted the whole of it. He got barely half of an average. Long afterwards, when the devious path of life led him back to teach in his turn what no student naturally cared or needed to know, he diverted some dreary hours of faculty-meetings by looking up his record in the class-lists, and found himself graded precisely in the middle. In the one branch he most needed—mathematics—barring the few first scholars, failure was so nearly universal that no attempt at grading could have had value, and whether he stood fortieth or ninetieth must have been an accident or the personal favor of the professor. Here his education failed lamentably. At best he could never have been a mathematician; at worst he would never have cared to be one; but he needed to read mathematics, like any other universal language, and he never reached the alphabet. Beyond two or three Greek plays, the student got nothing from the ancient languages. Beyond some incoherent theories of free-trade and protection, he got little from Political Economy. He could not afterwards remember to have heard the name of Karl Marx mentioned, or the title of "Capital." He was equally ignorant of Auguste Comte. These were the two writers of his time who most influenced its thought. The bit of practical teaching he afterwards reviewed with most curiosity was the course in Chemistry, which taught him a number of theories that befogged his mind for a lifetime. The only teaching that appealed to his imagination was a course of lectures by Louis Agassiz on the Glacial Period and Paleontology, which had more influence on his curiosity than the rest of the college instruction altogether. The entire work of the four years could have been easily put into the work of any four months in after life. Harvard College was a negative force, and negative forces have value. Slowly it weakened the violent political bias of childhood, not by putting interests in its place, but by mental habits which had no bias at all. It would also have weakened the literary bias, if Adams had been capable of finding other amusement, but the climate kept him steady to desultory and useless reading, till he had run through libraries of volumes which he forgot even to their title-pages. Rather by instinct than by guidance, he turned to writing, and his professors or tutors occasionally gave his English composition a hesitating approval; but in that branch, as in all the rest, even when he made a long struggle for recognition, he never convinced his teachers that his abilities, at their best, warranted placing him on the rank-list, among the first third of his class. Instructors generally reach a fairly accurate gauge of their scholars' powers. Henry Adams himself held the opinion that his instructors were very nearly right, and when he became a professor in his turn, and made mortifying mistakes in ranking his scholars, he still obstinately insisted that on the whole, he was not far wrong. Student or professor, he accepted the negative standard because it was the standard of the school. Which of the following best characterizes the author's opinion of Adams' college experience? A. Positive, because Harvard College was a good school B. Negative, because the four years at college were a complete waste C. Mixed, because while Adams learned little, there was some value to the experience D. It cannot be determined from the passage because the opinions expressed are Adams', not the author's.

C. This is a Tone/Attitude question. A: No. While the author does state in paragraph 2 that Harvard was a good school, the passage has a largely negative tone about Adams' experience. For example, the author states that Adams "got little more from his masters" than from his peers (paragraph 2), that in mathematics "his education failed lamentably" (paragraph 2), and that Adams got little out of his study of ancient languages, political economy, and chemistry (paragraph 3). The author also criticizes Adams' professors in paragraph 2. B: No. While the tone is largely negative, the author states in paragraph 4 that "Harvard College was a negative force, and negative forces have value. Slowly it weakened the violent political bias of childhood, not by putting interests in its place, but by mental habits which had no bias at all." Therefore, "complete waste" is too strong. C: Yes. While the author describes the failings of Adams' education in paragraphs 2 and 3, the author also states that there was some value to the experience: "Harvard College was a negative force, and negative forces have value. Slowly it weakened the violent political bias of childhood, not by putting interests in its place, but by mental habits which had no bias at all" (paragraph 4). D: No. While the passage does suggest Adams' opinion, it also clearly indicates the author's opinion of Adams as a student (paragraph 1), of the professors at Harvard (paragraph 2), and of Adams' education as a whole, including the value Adams did get out of the experience (paragraph 4).

Is musical drama viable, and if so how? Is Lully or Gluck, or Wagner, or Verdi really doing with the form what we think it is capable of? The postulates and ideals, the dissatisfactions and controversies are renewed for every generation. Musical drama is viable, and I believe that the present intellectual climate ought to be especially clement to the idea. We have certain new advantages; but the old disadvantage is still with us—the seeming contradiction between ideals and corrupt practice. Singers, audiences, and impresarios are responsible, as they always have been; artistic values are thoroughly confused by the jumble of good and bad that forms our current repertory. This makes a serious consideration of opera both difficult and rare. Sometimes ridicule can cut true, but we should do without that familiar indiscriminate satire on the genre as a whole, delightful or deserved as often this may appear. At present the greater need is for a reassertion of presumptive virtues. Addison and W. S. Gilbert, delightful writers, have had their bad effect on the course of opera in Britain. The instant appeal of their approach makes it all the more necessary to keep reformulating the humorless, idealistic position. In opera today flabby relativism is certainly the danger, as anyone knows who buys an opera season ticket. Under the tacit assumption that everything is all right in its own terms, extremes of beauty and triviality are regularly placed together. In our opera houses, art and kitsch alternate night after night, with the same performers and the same audience, to the same applause, and with the same critical sanction. Confusion about the worth of opera is bound to exist when no distinction is drawn publicly between works like Orfeo and The Magic Flute on the one hand and like Salome and Turandot on the other. Talk is seldom about meaning, but about peripheral topics like opera in English, "modern" production methods and television techniques; all without an idea of what opera can or should be, and what is in the first place worth translating, producing, and televising. This may be understandable in our first flush of enthusiasm of discovery, but it is hard to think that all our operatic activity can proceed much longer without standards. A serious search for dramatic values, with the kind of informed respect for the tradition that is elsewhere second nature nowadays, can begin to provide a basis for standards. At the same time, such a search can begin to subvert the general indulgence towards anything that happens to hold the stage; it need not lack Wagner's steady hostility toward cheapness and philistinism. The postulate is that opera is an art form with its own integrity and its own particular limiting and liberating conventions. The critical procedure involves a sharpening of musical awareness and an expansion of our range of imaginative response to drama. Which of the following best exemplifies the "old disadvantage" to which the author refers? A. An overly meticulous analysis of Wagner's Ring operas B. A stilted "biblical" interpretation of Wagner's Parzifal C. An ambitious performance of Rigoletto which is botched by ineffectual contemporary staging D. A humorless and overly hostile critical approach to evaluating comic opera

C. This is an Analogy question. A: No. The old disadvantage is the contradiction between ideals and corrupt practice; this answer choice only addresses analysis. B: No. The old disadvantage is the contradiction between ideals and corrupt practice; this answer choice only addresses interpretation. C: Yes. Since the old disadvantage is the contradiction between ideals and corrupt practice, this answer choice best exemplifies both (poor staging of a highly regarded opera). D: No. The author is in fact a proponent of humorlessness and hostility in certain circumstances. Thus these qualities would likely be seen by the author as hoped-for advantages, not "old disadvantages."

The standard reduction potentials (E°) of Cl2 and Na+ are 1.36 V and -2.71 V respectively. What is the standard free energy change in the following reaction (F = 96,485 C/mol e-, 1 V = 1 J/C)? Cl2 + 2Na → 2NaCl A. 285 kJ/mol B. 772 kJ/mol C. -285 kJ/mol D. -772 kJ/mol

D. The solution requires the formula ΔG° = -nFE°. By summing the voltages for the oxidation of Na (2.71 V) and the reduction of Cl2 (1.36 V) we arrive at a total voltage change for the reaction of +4.07 V. Since E° is positive, the answer must be negative (eliminate choices A and B). Substitute +4.07 volts into the equation, using an approximate value of F ~ 105: ΔG° = -(2)(105)(4) = -8 × 105 J. Only choice D is close to this value.

I met Marcel Proust many years ago at a Christmas Eve party: a dark, pale man, of somewhat less than forty, with black hair and moustache; peculiar; urbane; one would have said, an æsthete; he continually twisted his body, arms, and legs into strange curves. Although he had then published only one book, and although the book had had no popular success, Proust was undoubtedly in 1910 a considerable lion. He sat at the hostess's own table and dominated it, and everybody at the party showed interest in him. Even I was somehow familiar with his name. A few weeks before his death, while searching for something else in an overcrowded bookcase, I came across my first edition of his Du côté de chez Swann, and decided to read the book again. I cared for it less, and I also cared for it more, than in 1913. The longueurs of it seemed to me to be insupportable, the clumsy centipedalian crawling of the interminable sentences inexcusable. The lack of form or construction may disclose artlessness, but it signifies effrontery too. Why wouldn't Proust have taken the trouble to learn to "write," in the large sense? Further, the monotony of subject and treatment becomes tiring. On the other hand, at the second reading, I was absolutely enchanted by some of the detail. Again, he cannot control his movements; he sees a winding path off the main avenue, and scampers away further and further and still further, merely because at the moment it amuses him to do so. You ask yourself: He is lost—will he ever come back? The answer is that often he never comes back, and when he does come back he employs a magic but illicit carpet, to the outrage of principles of composition which cannot be violated in a work of the first order. This abandon applies not only to any particular work, but to his work as a whole. The later books are full of self-indulgence; the work has ruined the moral of the author: phenomenon common enough. About two-thirds of Proust's work must be devoted to the minutiæ of social manners, the rendering ridiculous of a million varieties of snob. At this game Proust is a master. (Happily he does not conceal that, with the rest of mankind, he loves ancient blood and distinguished connections.) He will write you a hundred pages about a fashionable dinner at which nothing is exhibited except the littleness and the naïveté of human nature. His interest in human nature, if intense and clairvoyant, is exceedingly limited. Proust never "presents" a character; he never presents a situation; he fastens on one or two aspects of a character or a situation, and strictly ignores all the others. And he is scarcely ever heroic in size, as Balzac always was; he rarely exalts, and he nearly always lends characters flaws in a tolerant way. There are achievements in Proust's output I should rank as great. One is the section of Swann entitled "Un amour de Swann." He had a large theme here - love and jealousy. The love is physical and the object of it contemptible; the jealousy is fantastic. But the affair is handled with tremendous, grave, bitter, impressive power. The one fault of it is that he lets Swann go to a soirée musicale and cannot, despite several efforts, get him away from it in time to save the interest of the situation. Yet in the soirée musicale there are marvelous, inimitable things. Speaking generally, Proust's work declined steadily from Swann. A l'ombre des jeunes filles en fleurs was a fearful fall, and as volume followed volume the pearls were strung more and more sparsely on the winding string. That Proust was a genius is not to be doubted; and I agree that he made some original discoveries in the byways of psychological fiction. But that he was a supreme genius, as many critics, both French and English, would have us believe, I cannot admit. The phrase "the pearls were strung more and more sparsely on the winding string" (paragraph 6) suggests that: A. as Proust's age advanced, the sharpness of his psychological insight declined steadily. B. Proust's tendency to write at great length made his most remarkable passages fewer and farther between. C. Proust's later works were less consistently successful than his earlier ones. D. critics became less complimentary of Proust as his career progressed.

C. This is an Inference question. A: No. Although the author does say Proust's work declined, nothing in the last paragraph specifically points to his advancing age or declining insight as the cause. In fact, paragraph 3 claims Proust's later works became increasingly self-indulgent—seemingly a different reason for their decline in quality. B: No. The previous sentence, "Proust's work declined steadily from Swann," gives enough context to tell us his work got worse over time, not that his best scenes were lost in works of increasing length (we don't know that his work got even longer, or that this was the reason for the decline in quality). Also note that the cited sentenced states that "as volume followed volume the pearls were strung more and more sparsely." This further suggests that we are talking about a series of books, not passages strung out within a book. C: Yes. This is a good paraphrase of the author's figurative language. In the previous sentence the author writes: "Speaking generally, Proust's work declined steadily from Swann." Then, the sentence cited in the question stem reads in full as "A l'ombre des jeunes filles en fleurs was a fearful fall, and as volume followed volume the pearls were strung more and more sparsely on the winding string." This indicates that the author is speaking of a decline in the quality of Proust's later works. While "successful" might on one hand be interpreted as financial or critical success (which is not an issue in this part of the passage), "successful" can just as reasonably be read as referring to the quality of the work (which is the issue in this part of the passage). D: No. Be careful: although this paragraph does go on to mention other critics' views of Proust, at this point, the author is only giving his own opinion. Also note that these other critics' views are more positive than the author's view. Therefore the negative tone of the quote would not match up with the other critics' positive attitude towards Proust.

Which of the following best explains why F2 is higher than Cl2 in the reactivity series? A. F2 is more electronegative than Cl2. B. F2 has a more negative electron affinity than Cl2. C. Cl2 has a more positive reduction potential than F2. D. F2 has a more negative Δ(SE)° than Cl2.

D. Although choice A is a true statement, electronegativity refers to behavior within a covalent bond and not in a reaction between molecules. The passage states that chlorine has a more negative electron affinity than fluorine, so choice B can be eliminated. According to the series in the passage, F2 is more reactive than Cl2 and will extract an electron from Cl- in a reaction analogous to reaction 1. Therefore, F2 has a more positive reduction potential than Cl2, eliminating choice C. According to Equation 1, if the Δ(SE)° is more negative for F2, the overall ΔG° is more negative indicating it is more energetically favorable to add an electron to F2 compared to Cl2.

What is the maximal rate of lithium transport by the Na+/H+ transporter when in the presence of amiloride? A. 1umol.sec-1mg protein-1 B. 2umol.sec-1mg protein-1 C. 5umol.sec-1mg protein-1 D. 10umol . sec-1 mg protein -1

D. Amiloride serves as a competitive inhibitor for lithium transport by the Na+/H+ transporter and will therefore have no impact on the maximal rate of transport. According to Figure 1, lithium transport reaches its maximal rate of transport at 2 fluorescent units sec-1 mg protein-1 and given that 1 fluorescent unit ≈ 5 µmol cation transported, the maximal rate of transport would be (choice D is correct).

Which of the following amino acids it most likely to be found in the binding pocket of QacA? A. C B. V C. K D. D

D. As stated in the passage, QacA binds to (mono- and bis-)QACs to expel them in the efflux pump. QACs have a positive charge so an anionic amino acid is most likely present in the binding pocket in order to interact with a QAC. Choice D, aspartic acid (D), is the only anionic amino acid listed and thus correct.

Which of the following is true regarding 63Ni decay? A. It decreases the number of protons because it has too many protons. B. It increases the number of protons because it has too many neutrons. C. It decreases the number of neutrons but the number of protons stays the same. D. It increases the number of protons but the number of neutrons stays the same.

D. From the table in the passage, Nickel-63 undergoes beta decay: In beta decay, an unstable nucleus with too many neutrons attempts to become more stable by converting a neutron to a proton and emitting an electron. The atomic mass stays the same. Thus the atomic number (number of protons) increases by one (eliminate choices A and C) and the number of neutrons decreases by one (eliminate choice D; choice B is correct).

Which of the following would best explain why a high energy monochromatic X-ray source is important for DEI used to image tumors in soft tissue? A. Only monochromatic X-ray photons will refract when passing through tissues of different densities. B. High energy X-rays are more readily absorbed by tumor cells than low energy X-rays. C. High energy X-rays undergo fractionally more Compton scattering than low energy X-rays. D. Monochromatic X-ray photons will refract at same angle when passing through the same changes in tissue density and thickness.

D. This question requires careful application of process of elimination that pays attention to details from the passage as well as recollection of physical optics. Snell's Law of refraction does not indicate that only some frequencies of EM radiation refract, so choice A is incorrect. Indeed, the wave property of dispersion, the spreading out of a polychromatic beam into its constituent color components, shows that all wavelengths (and frequencies) refract, but that shorter wavelengths refract more than longer ones at the same angle of incidence. Thus a polychromatic beam would spread out and blur the refraction contrast image where a monochromatic beam would not (choice D is correct). Choice B is incorrect: high energy X-ray photons are less readily absorbed than low energy photons. This is indicated by the first paragraph, where it is stated that Compton scattering becomes more likely for higher energy photons. Choice B is also false because the point of DEI is not to emphasize absorption but rather refraction/transmission (see the end of the passage). Choice C is a trap answer: it is true that Compton scattering is more common for higher energy X-rays, but Compton-scattered photons are eliminated by the analyzer before they can contribute to the final image.

A urinalysis specific for porphyria (diseases related to heme production) is conducted on a patient suffering an acute attack who had been previously diagnosed with AIP. Which of the following is/are most likely elevated in the patient's urine? I. Hydroxymethylbilane II. Aminolevulinic acid III. Porphobilinogen A. I only B. II only C. I and III only D. II and III only

D. AIP arises due to a mutation in PBG deaminase resulting in the accumulation of intermediates before this step in the synthesis of heme. Both aminolevulinic acid and porphobilinogen would be present in higher than normal levels in the urine (choice D is correct). Hydroxymethylbilane, the product of the step catalyzed by PBG deaminase would be present in lower than normal quantities.

A flash of 482 nm light containing 160 photons generates 15 photoisomerizations per melanopsin ganglion cell. If the cells were flashed with 590 nm light, how many photons would be required to generate the same response? A. 16 B. 160 C. 1600 D. 16000

D. According to the nomogram in Figure 1, cells are approximately 100 times less sensitive to light at a wavelength of 590 nm than they are to light at a wavelength of 482 nm (note that the vertical axis is a logarithmic scale; each step represents 10-fold change, so -2 means 100-fold less). Therefore a flash would need to be 100-fold brighter (contain 100 times as many photons) in order to generate the same response (choice D is correct).

Which of the following viruses does NOT have an immediately infective genome? A. An enveloped (+)RNA virus B. A naked (+)RNA phage C. A retrovirus D. A (-)RNA virus

D. All (+)RNA viruses have infective genomes because the genome acts like mRNA and can be immediately translated to produce viral proteins (choices A and B can be eliminated). A retrovirus is a type of (+)RNA virus that undergoes the lysogenic cycle (choice C can be eliminated). In contrast, (-)RNA viral genomes are not immediately infective. The (-)RNA must be converted to (+)RNA by an RNA-dependent RNA polymerase (this enzyme must be carried by the virus and encoded in the viral genome) to generate mRNA that can be translated to make viral proteins. If the genome (and only the genome) of a (-)RNA virus enters a cell or is combined with active host cell extracts, nothing will happen. If RNA-dependent RNA polymerase is added, the genome will then be infective and viral progeny will form (choice D is not immediately infective and is the correct answer choice).

The administration of insulin to a patient with diabetic ketoacidosis will have the most direct effect on which of the following reactions? A. Combination of two acetyl-CoA molecules into acetoacetyl-CoA B. Conversion of acetoacetyl-CoA to HMG-CoA C. Breakdown of acetoacetate into acetone and D-β-hydroxybutyrate D. Breakdown of adipose triglycerides

D. Based on the description in the passage, the biochemical process which gives rise to diabetic ketoacidosis in the context of severe insulin deficiency is ketogenesis following the breakdown of triglycerides in adipose tissue, release of free fatty acids into the blood, and subsequent β-oxidation of those free fatty acids. Thus the most direct effect of the administration of insulin would be to reduce the breakdown of adipose triglycerides (choice D is correct). While the rate of ketogenesis would decrease upon administration of insulin to a DKA patient, all of the steps of ketogenesis in Figure 1 would be affected downstream from the decrease in triglyceride breakdown (decreased rate of the ketogenic steps described in answer choices A, B, and C would be indirect effects of insulin admi

Wavelengths that stimulate S-type cones result in a suppression of the action potential firing rate in ipRGCs, while wavelengths that stimulate L- and M-type cones increase the firing rate. Which of the following is a possible mechanism that could account for the observed fall in action potential firing rate upon S-cone stimulation? A. Hyperpolarization of the cone results in a direct sign-conserving synapse onto the ipRGC B. Hyperpolarization of the cone results in a direct sign-inverting synapse onto the ipRGC C. Neural adaptation results in a decrease in resting potassium permeability D. Activation of chloride channels in ipRGCs

D. Cones do not directly synapse on to ganglion cells (choices A and B are wrong); however note that a "sign-conserving" synapse is one in which the polarity of the response is maintained (e.g., depolarization of the presynaptic cell results in depolarization of the post synaptic cell) while a "sign-inverting" synapse reverses the polarity of the response. A decrease in action potential firing rate likely indicates a hyperpolarization of the cell in response to S-cone activation. This could be accomplished several ways, including opening of chloride channels to allow for an influx of chloride (choice D is correct). A decrease in resting potassium permeability would lead to a depolarization (as more potassium is retained in the cells); this would increase the likelihood of firing an action potential (choice C is wrong).

Which of the following would be ideal growth conditions for the E. coli culture used in the miniprep? A. 30°C, continuous shaking, nutrient rich media containing ampicillin B. 37°C, minimal shaking, nutrient rich media containing no ampicillin C. 30°C, no shaking, nutrient rich media containing ampicillin D. 37°C, continuous shaking, nutrient rich media containing ampicillin

D. Like humans, E. coli grow best at 37°C; this can be inferred from the fact that our colons are full of these bacteria (E. coli) that flourish at our body temperature of 37°C (choices A and C can be eliminated). If bacteria are growing in liquid culture, they must be continuously shaken to ensure proper mixing and distribution of nutrients, and to provide a constant oxygen supply. Finally, the passage says that the bacteria are grown in the presence of a selective antibiotic and ampicillin is the most commonly used antibiotic in biological laboratories (choice B can be eliminated and choice D is correct).

Which of the steps in Figure 1 most likely utilizes a molecule of NADH? A. Step 1 B. Step 2 C. Step 3 D. Step 4

D. NADH is often utilized as a cofactor in both catabolic and anabolic reactions as a hydrogen donor; the conversion of acetoacetate to D-β-hydroxybutyric acid shown in Step 4 is the only of the four that involves an isolated addition of a hydrogen atom (choice D is correct). Step 1 involves the combination of two acetyl-CoA molecules without the need for NADH (choice A is incorrect). Step 2 involves the addition of another acetyl molecule to the acetoacetyl-CoA molecule at the 3-carbon position via a condensation reaction which does not require a reducing agent (choice B is wrong). Step 3 is characterized by the loss of acetyl-CoA facilitated by HMG-CoA lyase; there is no indication that hydrogen atoms are gained in this step (choice C is wrong).

The liver produces proteins that remain trapped in the blood. These proteins: A. increase osmotic pressure due to their charged amino acids, causing flow of water out of the blood vessels. B. increase osmotic pressure due to their concentration, causing flow of water out of the blood vessels. C. increase osmotic pressure due to their charged amino acids, causing flow of water into the blood vessels. D. increase osmotic pressure due to their concentration, causing flow of water into the blood vessels.

D. Osmotic pressure is a colligative property, and therefore is not affected by the charge of the molecules, but rather by the number of particles dissolved in the solvent (eliminate choices A and C). Since the proteins are trapped within the blood vessels, their elevated concentration would induce flow of water into the blood (eliminate choice B and choice D is correct).

Why might women with PCOS be at higher risk of endometrial cancer? A. Increased levels of estrogen lead to increased levels of progesterone. B. Increased levels of testosterone lead to endometrial cancer. C. Damage to the endometrial lining from increased blood sugar levels leads to tissue damage. D. Increased estrogen disrupts the luteal phase of the menstrual cycle.

D. The passage states that women who are exposed to high levels of estrogen unopposed by progesterone are at higher risk of endometrial cancer. Women with PCOS have high levels of estrogen and are not ovulating, thus the luteal phase of the menstrual cycle is disrupted. Because of the failure to ovulate, the corpus luteum (the only source of progesterone during the menstrual cycle) never develops, thus women with PCOS have very low levels of progesterone (choice D is correct and choice A is wrong). Increased levels of testosterone lead to hirsutism (increased male secondary sex characteristics such as facial hair), but does not lead to increased risk of endometrial cancer (choice B is wrong). Increased blood sugar levels can lead to a host of complications such as renal failure, blindness, impaired wound healing, and increased risk of myocardial infarction, but endometrial cancer is not caused by increased levels of blood sugar (choice C is wrong).

I met Marcel Proust many years ago at a Christmas Eve party: a dark, pale man, of somewhat less than forty, with black hair and moustache; peculiar; urbane; one would have said, an æsthete; he continually twisted his body, arms, and legs into strange curves. Although he had then published only one book, and although the book had had no popular success, Proust was undoubtedly in 1910 a considerable lion. He sat at the hostess's own table and dominated it, and everybody at the party showed interest in him. Even I was somehow familiar with his name. A few weeks before his death, while searching for something else in an overcrowded bookcase, I came across my first edition of his Du côté de chez Swann, and decided to read the book again. I cared for it less, and I also cared for it more, than in 1913. The longueurs of it seemed to me to be insupportable, the clumsy centipedalian crawling of the interminable sentences inexcusable. The lack of form or construction may disclose artlessness, but it signifies effrontery too. Why wouldn't Proust have taken the trouble to learn to "write," in the large sense? Further, the monotony of subject and treatment becomes tiring. On the other hand, at the second reading, I was absolutely enchanted by some of the detail. Again, he cannot control his movements; he sees a winding path off the main avenue, and scampers away further and further and still further, merely because at the moment it amuses him to do so. You ask yourself: He is lost—will he ever come back? The answer is that often he never comes back, and when he does come back he employs a magic but illicit carpet, to the outrage of principles of composition which cannot be violated in a work of the first order. This abandon applies not only to any particular work, but to his work as a whole. The later books are full of self-indulgence; the work has ruined the moral of the author: phenomenon common enough. About two-thirds of Proust's work must be devoted to the minutiæ of social manners, the rendering ridiculous of a million varieties of snob. At this game Proust is a master. (Happily he does not conceal that, with the rest of mankind, he loves ancient blood and distinguished connections.) He will write you a hundred pages about a fashionable dinner at which nothing is exhibited except the littleness and the naïveté of human nature. His interest in human nature, if intense and clairvoyant, is exceedingly limited. Proust never "presents" a character; he never presents a situation; he fastens on one or two aspects of a character or a situation, and strictly ignores all the others. And he is scarcely ever heroic in size, as Balzac always was; he rarely exalts, and he nearly always lends characters flaws in a tolerant way. There are achievements in Proust's output I should rank as great. One is the section of Swann entitled "Un amour de Swann." He had a large theme here - love and jealousy. The love is physical and the object of it contemptible; the jealousy is fantastic. But the affair is handled with tremendous, grave, bitter, impressive power. The one fault of it is that he lets Swann go to a soirée musicale and cannot, despite several efforts, get him away from it in time to save the interest of the situation. Yet in the soirée musicale there are marvelous, inimitable things. Speaking generally, Proust's work declined steadily from Swann. A l'ombre des jeunes filles en fleurs was a fearful fall, and as volume followed volume the pearls were strung more and more sparsely on the winding string. That Proust was a genius is not to be doubted; and I agree that he made some original discoveries in the byways of psychological fiction. But that he was a supreme genius, as many critics, both French and English, would have us believe, I cannot admit. Suppose a piece of a literary work were to be discovered without attribution and that some scholars suggest it may be Proust's work because it contains an unusually long scene set at a garden party. Which of the following, if it were to be a component of the scene, would the author most likely point to as evidence that the scene was unlikely to have been written by Proust? A. Detailed descriptions of the characters' use of cutlery according to the rules of polite society B. A satirical depiction of upper class characters C. Characters who do not fully appreciate the significance of their actions and those of others D. A retelling of many major events of the party from each attendee's point of view

D. This is a New Information question. Note: The correct answer will be the one that is most inconsistent with the author's description of common qualities of Proust's fiction. A: No. This is consistent with the author's observation in paragraph 4 that much of Proust's work is concerned with "the minutiae of social manners." B: No. This is consistent with the author's observations in paragraph 4 that Proust was interested in the upper class and "render[ed] ridiculous a hundred types of snob." C: No. Characters who are not fully aware of the significance of what's around them may fairly be described as "naïve," so this choice is consistent with the author's observation that Proust aimed to show the naiveté of human nature (paragraph 4). Compare this choice to choice D, which is much more clearly inconsistent with the author's description of Proust's work. D: Yes. This would be inconsistent with the author's suggestion in paragraph 4 that Proust would focus on one aspect of a scene or character and "strictly ignores all others." Because it is the most inconsistent with the author's description of Proust's style, this is the correct answer.

The California whose death Buchanan has mourned is an agricultural state. Its "third-worldization" was also the source of the protection for workers in one of its largest industries. Workers' dignity had to be fought for, and still does. And the most rigorous defense of workers' rights was achieved by immigrants, without the help of political parties, against moneyed growers, and sometimes against the state's military resources. Migration hasn't only built workers' rights, though. It has built models for non-racialism and environmental community which stand as beacons to the rest of California and, indeed, the world. Beneath the flight path to Los Angeles' LAX airport lie the gridded streets of South Central Los Angeles. From the plane window it's grey block and grey block after grey block. A flash of green. Then grey block and grey block. Two thousand feet in the air is about as close as most Angelinos come to South Central. Its reputation as the epicenter of racial tension and riots scare most of the middle class away. It's an odd place to find Daryl Hannah up a tree. But Hollywood's conscience has roused itself in defense of some 350 families, almost all immigrants, from South and Central America and Asia, who work in one of the USA's largest urban gardens. The space, fourteen acres, sits at 41st and Alameda (which is Spanish for "tree-lined avenue") in South Central, on the frontier of a zone of warehouses and light industry to the East and a low-rise residential area to the West, amid smog and trains. And just off Alameda, it's a haven of calm, and a riot of plants. The ones I can name are fairly basic: beans, strawberries, onions, corn, blackberries, industrial quantities of cilantro, Washington Apples, pomegranate. And then there are the ones I can't. Alfredo Vaquero (translation: "cowboy") has been here since the land was given to the community in the wake of the 1992 uprisings. Originally, the land had been expropriated by the City of Los Angeles for a trash incinerator, but the city was forced to back down by the community. Alfredo and his son Jose point to papalo, pipicha, chipilin, overas, chayote (plants for which translation, at least for me, is impossible). The streets, and the crime in South Central, are a concern to father and son, and both know of friends whose kids have drifted towards the gangs. But stronger than the push off the streets is the pull towards the garden. There are between 100 and 150 species of plant on the farm. It's an oasis in an urban jungle. There's very little green space in South Central; 0.35 acres per 1,000 people, compared to an average of 1.5 acres per 1,000 elsewhere in the city. Within the garden there are foods from around the world, a variety that owes everything to migration, to hybridity, to diversity. It is a lush, quiet and safe space in an urban zone left for dead by the city authorities. It is a place where parents and grandparents sit in the shade of trees, exchanging banter, gossip and snacks, while their children play together. It is part of immigration's bounty. And it, too, is embattled. When the city expropriated the land, it was worth little. Now they plan to sell it back to the developers from whom they expropriated it, for $5 million (though its market value is around $15 million). The community that has been built through the garden has been responsible for pulling up the value of the land. Despite this, and despite attempts by the community to raise enough money to buy the land outright, to get the legal system to come to their defense, and even to use Hollywood stars to bring attention to their plight, they are once again to be turfed off. It's important to take a moment to remember, here, against the language of parasitism and sponging with which migrants are confronted, that we bring histories, cultures and new ideas to our new homes. To forget this is a step towards xenophobia. Food in Britain, for instance, would be deeply impoverished without generations of migration. And, of course, The United States itself is a country founded on migration, and the extermination of those there before. Yet even after bringing memories and cultures across vast distances, escaping the collapse of the rural economy, it seems that some migrants are destined to end up fighting exactly the same fights for land, equality and justice, even in their new homes. What is the primary purpose of this passage? A. Advocating for the migrant workers whose land is about to be sold by the city of Los Angeles B. Supporting the founding of urban gardens in large cities across the country C. Explaining the negative and positive impact of immigration in California D. Explaining how migration is a threatened force for equality, community, and urban agricultural development

D. This is a Primary Purpose question. A: No. While the author is describing how others (Darryl Hannah, celebrities) are advocating for this urban garden and the author might himself reasonably be seen as an advocate as well, this answer leaves out some of the major themes of the passage, such as the achievements of migrants and the role played by migration in creating positive models for others to follow. Therefore this answer choice is too narrow. Compare it to choice D, which includes more of the major themes of the passage. B: No. This answer choice is also too narrow. The author does imply that South Central's urban garden, farmed by immigrants, is a paradigm: "It has built models for non-racialism and environmental community which stand as beacons to the rest of California and, indeed, the world" (paragraph 1). However, this choice does not encompass what the passage, overall, is trying to do. For example, it leaves out the theme of the role on migrants in creating not only this urban garden but larger changes as well. C: No. The author does not discuss the negative impact of migration in California: the author's attitude towards migration is entirely positive. D: Yes. The author's stance on migration is a main topic of this passage, most specifically presented in paragraphs 1 and 6. For example, the author states: "Migration hasn't only built workers' rights, though. It has built models for non-racialism and environmental community which stand as beacons to the rest of California and, indeed, the world" (paragraph 1). Therefore, the author is presenting migration as a force for equality and community in California and around the world. The other main topic is the value of the urban garden in L.A. (paragraphs 2-6). Finally, the author suggests that the garden itself and the migrants' access to "land, equality, and justice" is threatened (paragraphs 5 and 6). While this choice may sound too broad, note that the passage is discussing aspects of migration that go beyond just California or L.A. (see for example paragraphs 1 and 6). Therefore, this choice is the best of the four at incorporating all the major themes of the passage without going beyond its scope.

Which of the following is LEAST likely to contribute to the incidence of cerebral edema? A. Increased cerebral blood flow B. Increased cerebrospinal fluid C. Increased neuronal intracellular fluid D. Increased serum glucose

D. While increased serum glucose is associated with the electrolyte balance for most DKA patients, there is no evidence presented in the passage or the literature from which it is drawn to suggest that it contributes to the incidence of cerebral edema (choice D is not causative and thus correct). Cerebral edema would be influenced by processes increasing fluid delivery to or retention of fluid in the brain (choices A, B, and C will contribute to cerebral edema and are wrong)

By bringing together in compact form all of the arts of show business, the television commercial has mounted the most serious assault on capitalist ideology since the publication of Das Kapital. Of course, the practice of capitalism has its contradictions. Cartels and monopolies, for example, undermine the theory. But television commercials make hash of it. The television commercial is not at all about the character of products to be consumed. It is about the character of the consumers of products. Just as the television commercial empties itself of authentic product information so that it can do its psychological work, image politics empties itself of authentic political substance for the same reason. Television gives image a bad name. For on television the politician does not so much offer the audience an image of himself, as offer himself as an image of the audience. And therein lies one of the most powerful influences of the television commercial on political discourse. It is a sobering thought to recall that there are no photographs of Abraham Lincoln smiling, that his wife was in all likelihood a psychopath, and that he was subject to lengthy fits of depression. He would hardly have been well suited for image politics. This transformation of politics would be surprising to the redoubtable George Orwell. When Orwell wrote in his famous essay "The Politics of the English Language" that politics has become a matter of "defending the indefensible," he was assuming that politics would remain a distinct, although corrupted, mode of discourse. That the defense of the indefensible would be conducted as a form of amusement did not occur to him. He feared the politician as deceiver, not as entertainer. Commercials have the advantage of vivid visual symbols through which we may easily learn the lessons being taught. Among those lessons are that short and simple messages are preferable to long and complex ones; that drama is to be preferred over exposition; that being sold solutions is better than being confronted with questions about problems. History can play no significant role in image politics. Television is a speed-of-light medium, a present-centred medium. Everything presented in moving pictures is experienced as happening "now." Moreover, television needs to move fragments of information, not to collect and organize them. In the Age of Show Business and image politics, political discourse is emptied not only of ideological content, but of historical content, as well. We are rendered unfit to remember. For if remembering is to be something more than nostalgia, it requires a contextual basis—a theory, a vision, a metaphor—something within which facts can be organized and patterns discerned. The politics of image and instantaneous news provides no such context. With television, we vault ourselves into a continuous, incoherent present. Orwell was wrong once again, at least for the Western democracies. He envisioned the demolition of history, but believed that it would be accomplished by the state. But as Huxley more accurately foretold it, nothing so crude as all that is required. Seemingly benign technologies devoted to providing the populace with a politics of image, instancy and therapy may disappear history just as effectively, perhaps more permanently. We ought also to look to Huxley, not Orwell, to understand the threat that television and other forms of imagery pose to the foundation of liberal democracy—namely, to freedom of information. Orwell quite reasonably supposed that the state, through naked suppression, would control the flow of information, particularly by the banning of books. Thus, Orwell envisioned that (1) government control over (2) printed matter posed a serious threat to Western democracies. He was wrong on both counts. What we are confronted with now is the problem posed by the economic and symbolic structure of television. Those who run television do not limit our access to information but in fact widen it. Our Ministry of Culture is Huxleyian, not Orwellian. What we watch is a medium which presents information in a form that renders it simplistic, nonsubstantive, nonhistorical and noncontextual; that is to say, information packaged as entertainment. The author indicates that Orwell incorrectly predicted all of the following EXCEPT the extent to which: A. the state would act to lessen the organization and coherence of information received by the public. B. democracy would be limited by state control of information. C. politicians would act to deceive the public. D. history would be demolished.

D. This is an Inference EXCEPT question. Note: The correct answer will be the one that is NOT supported by the passage. A. No. The author argues in paragraph 4 that Orwell incorrectly supposed that the state would accomplish the "demolition of history," and the previous paragraph describes the demolition of history as occurring through the removal of context and organization from information. Therefore, this choice is supported by the passage. B. No. The author states in paragraph 5 that Orwell reasonably but mistakenly believed that the state would undermine democracy openly suppressing the flow of information. Therefore, this choice is supported by the passage. C. No. The author argues in paragraph 3 that Orwell "feared the politician as deceiver, not as entertainer," but that he did not understand the extent to which "the defense of the indefensible would be conducted as a form of amusement" rather than through lies. Therefore, this choice is supported by the passage. D. Yes. Orwell, according to the passage, was wrong about how history would be demolished (he believed it would be brought about through actions taken by the state, when in fact it is occurring through the influence of television), not the extent to which it would be demolished. This choice is NOT supported by the passage, and therefore it is the correct answer to this EXCEPT question.

Nothing short of this curious sympathy could have brought into close relations two young men so hostile as Roony Lee and Henry Adams, but the chief difference between them as collegians consisted only in their difference of scholarship: Lee was a total failure; Adams a partial one. Both failed, but Lee felt his failure more sensibly, so that he gladly seized the chance of escape by accepting a commission offered him by General Winfield Scott in the force then being organized against the Mormons. He asked Adams to write his letter of acceptance, which flattered Adams's vanity more than any Northern compliment could do, because, in days of violent political bitterness, it showed a certain amount of good temper. The diplomat felt his profession. If the student got little from his mates, he got little more from his masters. The four years passed at college were, for his purposes, wasted. Harvard College was a good school, but at bottom what the boy disliked most was any school at all. He did not want to be one in a hundred -- one per cent of an education. He regarded himself as the only person for whom his education had value, and he wanted the whole of it. He got barely half of an average. Long afterwards, when the devious path of life led him back to teach in his turn what no student naturally cared or needed to know, he diverted some dreary hours of faculty-meetings by looking up his record in the class-lists, and found himself graded precisely in the middle. In the one branch he most needed—mathematics—barring the few first scholars, failure was so nearly universal that no attempt at grading could have had value, and whether he stood fortieth or ninetieth must have been an accident or the personal favor of the professor. Here his education failed lamentably. At best he could never have been a mathematician; at worst he would never have cared to be one; but he needed to read mathematics, like any other universal language, and he never reached the alphabet. Beyond two or three Greek plays, the student got nothing from the ancient languages. Beyond some incoherent theories of free-trade and protection, he got little from Political Economy. He could not afterwards remember to have heard the name of Karl Marx mentioned, or the title of "Capital." He was equally ignorant of Auguste Comte. These were the two writers of his time who most influenced its thought. The bit of practical teaching he afterwards reviewed with most curiosity was the course in Chemistry, which taught him a number of theories that befogged his mind for a lifetime. The only teaching that appealed to his imagination was a course of lectures by Louis Agassiz on the Glacial Period and Paleontology, which had more influence on his curiosity than the rest of the college instruction altogether. The entire work of the four years could have been easily put into the work of any four months in after life. Harvard College was a negative force, and negative forces have value. Slowly it weakened the violent political bias of childhood, not by putting interests in its place, but by mental habits which had no bias at all. It would also have weakened the literary bias, if Adams had been capable of finding other amusement, but the climate kept him steady to desultory and useless reading, till he had run through libraries of volumes which he forgot even to their title-pages. Rather by instinct than by guidance, he turned to writing, and his professors or tutors occasionally gave his English composition a hesitating approval; but in that branch, as in all the rest, even when he made a long struggle for recognition, he never convinced his teachers that his abilities, at their best, warranted placing him on the rank-list, among the first third of his class. Instructors generally reach a fairly accurate gauge of their scholars' powers. Henry Adams himself held the opinion that his instructors were very nearly right, and when he became a professor in his turn, and made mortifying mistakes in ranking his scholars, he still obstinately insisted that on the whole, he was not far wrong. Student or professor, he accepted the negative standard because it was the standard of the school. All of the following are suggested as occupations or interests held by Adams EXCEPT: A. college professor. B. paleontology. C. chemistry. D. military officer.

D. This is an Inference question. A: No. Paragraph 2 states: "Long afterwards, when the devious path of life led him back to teach in his turn what no student naturally cared or needed to know, he diverted some dreary hours of faculty-meetings by looking up his record in the class-lists, and found himself graded precisely in the middle." This suggests that Adams returned to Harvard as a professor. B: No. Paragraph 3 states: "The only teaching that appealed to his imagination was a course of lectures by Louis Agassiz on the Glacial Period and Paleontology, which had more influence on his curiosity than the rest of the college instruction altogether." This suggests Adams had an interest in paleontology. C: No. Paragraph 3 states: "The bit of practical teaching he afterwards reviewed with most curiosity was the course in Chemistry, which taught him a number of theories that befogged his mind for a lifetime." Even if Adams was confused by chemistry, the passage suggests that he did have some interest in or "curiosity" about it. D: Yes. There is no mention of Adams having any interest in military affairs. The passage does talk of Lee accepting a military commission (paragraph 1), but not of Adams doing the same or having any interest in military affairs.

By bringing together in compact form all of the arts of show business, the television commercial has mounted the most serious assault on capitalist ideology since the publication of Das Kapital. Of course, the practice of capitalism has its contradictions. Cartels and monopolies, for example, undermine the theory. But television commercials make hash of it. The television commercial is not at all about the character of products to be consumed. It is about the character of the consumers of products. Just as the television commercial empties itself of authentic product information so that it can do its psychological work, image politics empties itself of authentic political substance for the same reason. Television gives image a bad name. For on television the politician does not so much offer the audience an image of himself, as offer himself as an image of the audience. And therein lies one of the most powerful influences of the television commercial on political discourse. It is a sobering thought to recall that there are no photographs of Abraham Lincoln smiling, that his wife was in all likelihood a psychopath, and that he was subject to lengthy fits of depression. He would hardly have been well suited for image politics. This transformation of politics would be surprising to the redoubtable George Orwell. When Orwell wrote in his famous essay "The Politics of the English Language" that politics has become a matter of "defending the indefensible," he was assuming that politics would remain a distinct, although corrupted, mode of discourse. That the defense of the indefensible would be conducted as a form of amusement did not occur to him. He feared the politician as deceiver, not as entertainer. Commercials have the advantage of vivid visual symbols through which we may easily learn the lessons being taught. Among those lessons are that short and simple messages are preferable to long and complex ones; that drama is to be preferred over exposition; that being sold solutions is better than being confronted with questions about problems. History can play no significant role in image politics. Television is a speed-of-light medium, a present-centred medium. Everything presented in moving pictures is experienced as happening "now." Moreover, television needs to move fragments of information, not to collect and organize them. In the Age of Show Business and image politics, political discourse is emptied not only of ideological content, but of historical content, as well. We are rendered unfit to remember. For if remembering is to be something more than nostalgia, it requires a contextual basis—a theory, a vision, a metaphor—something within which facts can be organized and patterns discerned. The politics of image and instantaneous news provides no such context. With television, we vault ourselves into a continuous, incoherent present. Orwell was wrong once again, at least for the Western democracies. He envisioned the demolition of history, but believed that it would be accomplished by the state. But as Huxley more accurately foretold it, nothing so crude as all that is required. Seemingly benign technologies devoted to providing the populace with a politics of image, instancy and therapy may disappear history just as effectively, perhaps more permanently. We ought also to look to Huxley, not Orwell, to understand the threat that television and other forms of imagery pose to the foundation of liberal democracy—namely, to freedom of information. Orwell quite reasonably supposed that the state, through naked suppression, would control the flow of information, particularly by the banning of books. Thus, Orwell envisioned that (1) government control over (2) printed matter posed a serious threat to Western democracies. He was wrong on both counts. What we are confronted with now is the problem posed by the economic and symbolic structure of television. Those who run television do not limit our access to information but in fact widen it. Our Ministry of Culture is Huxleyian, not Orwellian. What we watch is a medium which presents information in a form that renders it simplistic, nonsubstantive, nonhistorical and noncontextual; that is to say, information packaged as entertainment. Based only on passage information, the author of the passage most likely assumes the truth of which of the following statements? A. Capitalism is fundamentally based on the character of consumers rather than on the products being consumed. B. Commercials that offer solutions are preferable to those that only raise questions in the viewers' minds. C. Orwell was wrong in claiming that politicians would come to defend indefensible ideas. D. We prefer to see images of ourselves as happy and healthy individuals.

D. This is an Inference question. A: No. The author assumes the opposite. In paragraph 1 the author writes: "By bringing together in compact form all of the arts of show business, the television commercial has mounted the most serious assault on capitalist ideology since the publication of Das Kapital....The television commercial is not at all about the character of products to be consumed. It is about the character of the consumers of products." If television commercials assault capitalism by focusing on the consumer rather than on the product, capitalism must be based on the product rather than on the consumer. B: No. This choice reverses and contradicts the author's argument. The author's statement that commercials offer solutions rather than raising questions is part of the author's criticism of the effect of commercials in paragraph 3. Therefore, the author assumes that raising questions, not offering solutions, is to be preferred. C: No. The author argues that Orwell was wrong in his conception of how politicians would "defend the indefensible." When the author states "That the defense of the indefensible would be conducted as a form of amusement did not occur to [Orwell]," he is suggesting that such a defense does in fact occur, but in a different form than predicted by Orwell (paragraph 3). D: Yes. In paragraph 2 the author states that Lincoln "would hardly have been well-suited for image politics" because "there are no photographs of Abraham Lincoln smiling, ...his wife was in all likelihood a psychopath, and... he was subject to lengthy fits of depression." This is part of the author's argument that image politics entails "offering an image of the audience." Therefore, you can infer that the author assumes that people would prefer to be presented with happy and healthy images of themselves, rather than with images that convey sadness or psychological problems.

Modern civilization's insulation from natural phenomena has, of course, altered our relationship to the weather substantially. The material successes of two centuries of applied science have thoroughly dislodged the old deities as active presences in earthly affairs, and our apparent control over nature has emptied it much of its metaphysical significance. Like the wilds that once confronted a traveler just outside the city's gates, the weather has been suburbanized and Disneyfied, its inclemencies signifying, for the most part, little more than inconvenience. In the intensely humanized environment where much of the First World lives—an environment so man-made as to often be called "dehumanizing"—we rarely pay attention to the sky as a scene of drama and omen; it would seem that for many people the TV weatherman has equal, if not more, phenomenal reality. And while we might find vestiges of an earlier relationship in the siege vocabulary of storm "watches," "alerts," and "warnings"—and the World War I-derived jargon of the weather "front"—even here our responses are directed by a sense of banal predictability. With modern telecommunications mobilizing the populace to greater preparedness, we can rest assured, the newscasters tell us, that the authorities will have the situation firmly under control. And yet there seems an inexorable logic in the return of the repressed. Recent events in New Orleans, for instance, not only revealed how fragile is our illusion of insulation from the elements, even in a rich industrial power like the United States, but also made starkly clear how human action or inaction can be a decisive factor in so-called natural disasters. Like the ancient floods, the submerged neighborhoods and floating corpses left by Hurricane Katrina spoke to us of much more than the mindless physical processes of wind and tide. It may be that our earlier myths about the weather were, in a certain sense, more accurate. Consider the implications of "Weather as a Force Multiplier: Owning the Weather in 2025," a white paper submitted to U.S. Air Force Chief of Staff General Ronald R. Fogelman in 1996 as part of a major study "to examine the concepts, capabilities, and technologies the United States will require to remain the dominant air and space force in the future." In a reprise of John von Neumann's 1950s project, "Owning the Weather" foresees a time in the coming two decades when ultrasophisticated computer-prediction models will allow U.S. "weather-force specialists" to make finely tuned, "routine" interventions in the atmosphere to "provide battlespace dominance to a degree never before imagined." As the authors, a panel of Air Force officers, write: Weather-modification is a force multiplier with tremendous power that could be exploited across the full spectrum of war-fighting environments. From enhancing friendly operations or disrupting those of the enemy via small-scale tailoring of natural weather patterns to complete dominance of global communications and counter-space control, weather-modification offers the war fighter a wide range of possible options to defeat or coerce an adversary. But despite their enthusiasm, the authors feel compelled to note certain theoretical problems, conceding that "concern about the unintended consequences of attempting to 'control' the weather is well justified." In a footnote citing an article titled "Chaos Theory: The Essentials for Military Applications," they explain that because weather is a chaotic system, it is extremely sensitive to minor changes, which cascade through the system's points of instability with wildly unpredictable outcomes—the proverbial butterfly effect, by which a flap of gossamer wings in China brings on a Category 4 hurricane in the Caribbean. In other words, you may get much more than you bargained for. "Clearly," they conclude, "there are definite physical limits to mankind's ability to control nature, but the extent of those physical limits remains an open question." If we can no longer believe that the sky, the oceans, and the forests are inhabited by a sacred presence that demands respect, and instead see nature, in Ruskin's words, only as "a succession of meaningless monotonous accident," ripe for our exploitation and destruction, we have become equally unable to understand our own proper place within Creation. The tragic irony of our egocentric disenchantment of the world is this: we may one day come to "own the weather" only to find that the weather has turned as ugly and as rapacious as we. Which of the following courses of action or beliefs would the author be most likely to advocate? A. Human interference with nature must stop, and technological development must be slowed. B. Do not trust your TV weatherman, for he stands on false authority and cannot actually predict the weather with any accuracy. C. The military does not act in the best interests of people. D. The environment is a dynamic, mysterious, living being.

D. This is an Inference question. A: No. This answer is extreme. While the author is highly critical of humans' egoism in their approach to the environment, he does not advocate the complete abandonment of all manipulation of nature or the slowing down of technological advancement in general. B: No. This choice is extreme. The author does not argue that TV weathermen are usually wrong. Rather, the author criticizes the larger view of the weather as mundane, banal, and even controllable. While the author does have a negative attitude towards the human view that we are largely insulated from the weather and mentions weathermen in that context, the critique is of the view itself, not of the general accuracy or inaccuracy of weather reports. Note that the example given in paragraph 2 is of an unusual and catastrophic event, not of everyday occurrences. C: No. The passage is merely critical of a particular report issued by the Air Force which is illustrative, according to the author, of a larger issue of humans' attitude towards nature. This answer choice is too limited and overly critical of the military as a whole. D: Yes. This answer choice is supported throughout the passage, but most specifically in the first and final paragraphs. The author is critical of the view that the environment is banal, predictable, meaningless, and monotonous: he therefore advocates the treating of the environment as something like a living thing that cannot be fully understood or controlled.

Helicobacter pylori, a bacterium found in the stomach and duodenum, has been implicated in the formation of peptic ulcers (lesions due to inflammation and low pH). Which of the following would be the most effective treatment to eliminate the infection and allow for healing? A. Solid antacids to neutralize the stomach acid B. Parietal cell agonist to kill the H. pylori C. Oral antibiotic and solid antacids D. Oral antibiotic and parietal cell antagonist

D. To treat peptic ulcers we must both eliminate the infection (so that the ulcer does not recur) and neutralize the stomach acid (to reduce the inflammation and allow healing). Treatment with the appropriate antibiotic will eliminate the infection (choices A and B are wrong) and blocking release of HCl by parietal cells with an antagonist will provide a sustained higher stomach pH than will solid antacids (either alone or in combination, choice D is better than choice C). Note that choice B might be particularly harmful; an agonist would increase acid secretion, the exact opposite of what we are trying to accomplish.

Retinitis pigmentosa initially involves the death of rods and the eventual death of cones leading to complete blindness. Which of the following visual functions would be disrupted? A. Pupillary constriction in response to light B. Pupillary dilation in the absence of light C. Photoentrainment (setting the circadian clock) D. Object edge detection

D. Without primary photoreceptors (rods and cones), only melanopsin-expressing ganglion cells would be capable of responding to light. Object edge detection, which relies upon image-forming vision, would not be possible without rods and cones (choice D is correct). According to the passage, ipRGCs are responsible for 'non-image-forming' functions including pupillary constriction in response to light (choice A is wrong). Presumably, the dilation of the pupil would also be mediated by melanopsin activity (choice B is wrong). Photoentrainment is another function of the visual system that does not rely upon image formation, instead it responds to mean luminance (choice C is wrong).

Which of the following mutations in PBG deaminase would be LEAST likely to result in AIP? A. A base transition in intron 1 B. A base transversion in exon 1 C. A base transition in a codon from UAA to CAA D. A base transition in a codon from UAA to UAG

D.Transitions are the substitution of a purine with a purine or a pyrimidine with a pyrimidine while a transversion is the substitution of a purine with a pyrimidine or the reverse. This has no particular importance in whether a mutation will be deleterious to the function of a protein however. Point mutations can have a significant impact on the function of a protein if they occur in an intron or an exon. Of the examples provided, the substitution of UAA for UAG will be least likely to influence the structure of a protein as both codons are stop codons (choice D is correct).