Reading Comprehension

What according to the author is the reason that the champagne and wines taste different in different glasses?

Directions: Read the passage and answer the question.

Do you recall the pleasure of discovering a new brand that actually delivers something that is perceptively superior to an existing one? It usually doesn’t involve an entirely new approach or radical departure from conventional wisdom — one feels the product in question is effortlessly superior to whatever the previous standard was. This happened to me when I purchased my first pair of Timberland boots in the late Seventies from a cubbyhole of a shop in High Street Kensington. They looked just like other boots but were amazing — robust, comfortable and durable — something I confirmed while I tramped along the Thai - Cambodia border attempting to assist refugees fleeing from the Khmer Rouge.
These days, Timberland has established itself as a clothing, beachwear, and accessories brand, turning out scores of designer boots, shoes, slip - ons and deck shoes. Nowadays they are fully up to speed about their carbon footprint and recently acquired a company with a range of accessories for skateboarders. It is still a good brand, but there is that niggling feeling that Timberland is merely a fashion statement rather than a mould - breaking take on the work boot for the leisured classes.
Like Timberland, Riedel, the pioneer wine glass makers, knocked me sideways when I first tasted Bordeaux from their specially designed glass. It was state - of - the - art and effective; if you ever doubted the curve of a wine glass could completely alter the wine’s taste, you only had to drink an identical wine from two differently designed wine glasses. I can assure you, a Bordeaux tasted from a Burgundy glass was completely different. Various grape varieties taste differently according to the glass used because they affect specific parts of the palate, so that if the wine is “thrown” towards a particular portion of the roof of the mouth, different taste sensations arise.
Riedel glassware turn out their traditional quality products that are more or less still at the summit for their type. However, they now feel impelled to diversify in the desire to “expand the brand”, perhaps aiming to cover all bases while consumers still have a jangle in their sparechange pocket. Or perhaps, having enjoyed enormous growth off the back of a single, simple and inspired idea in the 1950s, Riedel, like Timberland, is experiencing a midlife crisis of sorts.
To celebrate their fiftieth anniversary, Riedel have launched the “Sommeliers Black Tie Range”, ultraexpensive glasses from £50 to £80 a throw. Doubtless there will be a market for these glasses in the tuxedo - wearing classes. The stems are black so when you eye up a filled glass on your banqueting table, it appears that the Lafleur ‘47 (or is it Kangarouge NV?) goes all the way down to the base. To help those hard of seeing, the white wine version merely has a black base and a clear stem. And that’s not all  — Riedel now have something “to wow your guests” called NachtmannBossa Nova plates, which “show off your culinary  presentation skills”. Help! Get me out of here! All I ever wanted was a sturdy pair of boots and a perfect glass for my Bordeaux — not some sort of lifestyle nightmare. It might be time to consider the impact of appropriate glasses for various wines. We should start with Champagne as virtually no one except celebrants at Mongolian National day in Ulan Bator uses those old saucer-shaped ones (Champagne coupes, they’re called). Little - known fact: the shape was allegedly based on Marie - Antoinette’s breast. The slender flute is now the preferred Champagne shape, although I have yet to hear anyone claim it is based on any part of the anatomy of Louis XVI. The flute is superior because it manages to contain the bubbles of the Champagne — and provided you are drinking something not mass-produced by the lifestyle people, you can actually smell its nose.
Flying in the face of this advice, the most memorable Champagne I ever tasted was Cristal Rosé served in a plastic cup on a Eurostar as it pulled out of Paris. We had just spent the night at Chateau de Saran in Epernay drinking no end of different vintages of Dom Perignon, including their rare RosÃ. One of our party thought that while those wines were perfectly acceptable, they didn’t compare to the charms of Cristal RosÃ. I still have no idea how he managed to slip away from the queue at the Gare du Nord and return triumphant, clutching a handful of plastic cups. Even with the handicap of the drinking vessel, it managed to transcend anything we had drunk in the past day or two. I have no doubt it would have been even more ethereal in a flute. The same would apply to my first experience of Latour ‘59, served up in a stone mug on a stem. I drank it with a passionate socialist friend (later a Labour Government Minister) who believed that despite his privileged upbringing, it was only just that one of the greatest wines of the century should be served at his table in earthenware. I watched in horror as he expounded on some now obscure point of the class struggle between slurps from his mug. At the reverse end of the spectrum, I have drunk several bottles of Cheval Blanc ‘83 with a hedge fund owner who insists on serving this glorious wine in eighteenth century crystal, which for all I know could have been Marie - Antoinette’s. It still managed to strut its stuff — no easy task when the crystal is as thick as a bottle top. However, even he was dumbstruck when I arrived with a series of tasting glasses and thought it would be amusing to compare them. The quality leap was discernable but sadly I was not affluent enough to gift them to him, so it will be back to the ancient regime.
Riedel are not the only option when it comes to fine wine; at present I prefer drinking fine Bordeaux from very thin tasting glasses, half the dimensions of the classic Riedel variety. However, Riedel do deserve huge credit for introducing the concept of wine - specific glasses, ranging from Bordeaux and Burgundies to Chianti and red Rhônes.
I recently went to a dinner in honour of Georg Riedel in London, where he had vast displays of his glassware, including the dreaded Black Tie ones. It was tad gratuitous to put up a Riedel glass of Grand - Puy - Lacoste ‘01 against a plastic cup with the same wine. No prizes for which tasted more interesting and revealed more of its character. Still, he is a craftsman and deserves honour. I only wish that the human race wasn’t genetically impelled to always expand and hunt for new markets. It is nothing very new, historically. When the Emperor Augustus died, his will instructed his successor not to expand the boundaries of the Empire, but before too many centuries the legions became restless and began appointing their own Emperors, such was their shame at not being allowed to conquer and pillage. I don’t have any fears about Riedel going down this fatal route if they stopped spreading themselves into the wider philistine world of the consumer. On the contrary, I won’t be too surprised when I hear of the Alcopops Riedel glass or the eco -   friendly slingback Timberland.

Which of the following options would be the best choice to define the purpose of writing this passage?

Directions: Read the passage and answer the question.

Do you recall the pleasure of discovering a new brand that actually delivers something that is perceptively superior to an existing one? It usually doesn’t involve an entirely new approach or radical departure from conventional wisdom — one feels the product in question is effortlessly superior to whatever the previous standard was. This happened to me when I purchased my first pair of Timberland boots in the late Seventies from a cubbyhole of a shop in High Street Kensington. They looked just like other boots but were amazing — robust, comfortable and durable — something I confirmed while I tramped along the Thai - Cambodia border attempting to assist refugees fleeing from the Khmer Rouge.
These days, Timberland has established itself as a clothing, beachwear, and accessories brand, turning out scores of designer boots, shoes, slip - ons and deck shoes. Nowadays they are fully up to speed about their carbon footprint and recently acquired a company with a range of accessories for skateboarders. It is still a good brand, but there is that niggling feeling that Timberland is merely a fashion statement rather than a mould - breaking take on the work boot for the leisured classes.
Like Timberland, Riedel, the pioneer wine glass makers, knocked me sideways when I first tasted Bordeaux from their specially designed glass. It was state - of - the - art and effective; if you ever doubted the curve of a wine glass could completely alter the wine’s taste, you only had to drink an identical wine from two differently designed wine glasses. I can assure you, a Bordeaux tasted from a Burgundy glass was completely different. Various grape varieties taste differently according to the glass used because they affect specific parts of the palate, so that if the wine is “thrown” towards a particular portion of the roof of the mouth, different taste sensations arise.
Riedel glassware turn out their traditional quality products that are more or less still at the summit for their type. However, they now feel impelled to diversify in the desire to “expand the brand”, perhaps aiming to cover all bases while consumers still have a jangle in their sparechange pocket. Or perhaps, having enjoyed enormous growth off the back of a single, simple and inspired idea in the 1950s, Riedel, like Timberland, is experiencing a midlife crisis of sorts.
To celebrate their fiftieth anniversary, Riedel have launched the “Sommeliers Black Tie Range”, ultraexpensive glasses from £50 to £80 a throw. Doubtless there will be a market for these glasses in the tuxedo - wearing classes. The stems are black so when you eye up a filled glass on your banqueting table, it appears that the Lafleur ‘47 (or is it Kangarouge NV?) goes all the way down to the base. To help those hard of seeing, the white wine version merely has a black base and a clear stem. And that’s not all  — Riedel now have something “to wow your guests” called NachtmannBossa Nova plates, which “show off your culinary  presentation skills”. Help! Get me out of here! All I ever wanted was a sturdy pair of boots and a perfect glass for my Bordeaux — not some sort of lifestyle nightmare. It might be time to consider the impact of appropriate glasses for various wines. We should start with Champagne as virtually no one except celebrants at Mongolian National day in Ulan Bator uses those old saucer-shaped ones (Champagne coupes, they’re called). Little - known fact: the shape was allegedly based on Marie - Antoinette’s breast. The slender flute is now the preferred Champagne shape, although I have yet to hear anyone claim it is based on any part of the anatomy of Louis XVI. The flute is superior because it manages to contain the bubbles of the Champagne — and provided you are drinking something not mass-produced by the lifestyle people, you can actually smell its nose.
Flying in the face of this advice, the most memorable Champagne I ever tasted was Cristal Rosé served in a plastic cup on a Eurostar as it pulled out of Paris. We had just spent the night at Chateau de Saran in Epernay drinking no end of different vintages of Dom Perignon, including their rare RosÃ. One of our party thought that while those wines were perfectly acceptable, they didn’t compare to the charms of Cristal RosÃ. I still have no idea how he managed to slip away from the queue at the Gare du Nord and return triumphant, clutching a handful of plastic cups. Even with the handicap of the drinking vessel, it managed to transcend anything we had drunk in the past day or two. I have no doubt it would have been even more ethereal in a flute. The same would apply to my first experience of Latour ‘59, served up in a stone mug on a stem. I drank it with a passionate socialist friend (later a Labour Government Minister) who believed that despite his privileged upbringing, it was only just that one of the greatest wines of the century should be served at his table in earthenware. I watched in horror as he expounded on some now obscure point of the class struggle between slurps from his mug. At the reverse end of the spectrum, I have drunk several bottles of Cheval Blanc ‘83 with a hedge fund owner who insists on serving this glorious wine in eighteenth century crystal, which for all I know could have been Marie - Antoinette’s. It still managed to strut its stuff — no easy task when the crystal is as thick as a bottle top. However, even he was dumbstruck when I arrived with a series of tasting glasses and thought it would be amusing to compare them. The quality leap was discernable but sadly I was not affluent enough to gift them to him, so it will be back to the ancient regime.
Riedel are not the only option when it comes to fine wine; at present I prefer drinking fine Bordeaux from very thin tasting glasses, half the dimensions of the classic Riedel variety. However, Riedel do deserve huge credit for introducing the concept of wine - specific glasses, ranging from Bordeaux and Burgundies to Chianti and red Rhônes.
I recently went to a dinner in honour of Georg Riedel in London, where he had vast displays of his glassware, including the dreaded Black Tie ones. It was tad gratuitous to put up a Riedel glass of Grand - Puy - Lacoste ‘01 against a plastic cup with the same wine. No prizes for which tasted more interesting and revealed more of its character. Still, he is a craftsman and deserves honour. I only wish that the human race wasn’t genetically impelled to always expand and hunt for new markets. It is nothing very new, historically. When the Emperor Augustus died, his will instructed his successor not to expand the boundaries of the Empire, but before too many centuries the legions became restless and began appointing their own Emperors, such was their shame at not being allowed to conquer and pillage. I don’t have any fears about Riedel going down this fatal route if they stopped spreading themselves into the wider philistine world of the consumer. On the contrary, I won’t be too surprised when I hear of the Alcopops Riedel glass or the eco -   friendly slingback Timberland.

Which of the following may be inferred from the passage?

Directions: Read the passage and answer the question.

On the grassy slope below me was god’s precinct, a sacred spot, entered on pain of death. Indeed, worshippers of old believed that, once there, neither man nor beast could cast a shadow. In times past they had processed up this mountain in the night to reenact a ritual human sacrifice to their god — or so ancient sources tell us. At the festive meal, a person who chanced to eat human flesh mixed with the flesh of sacrificed animals would transform into a werewolf. In fact, Lykaion signifies wolf.
These enigmatic rites were celebrated not by an uncivilised people in a forgotten land but rather in the heart of classical Greece during its so - called Golden Age. The practitioners of these rites were respected Greek citizens, not fringe cultists, who worshiped Zeus, the king of the Gods. In a way, these rites were no more bizarre than countless mainstream festivals of the time: During the Athenian Thesmophoria, women retrieved the decayed bodies of piglets from pits into which they had tossed the dead animals months earlier, and in the rites of the goddess Artemis that took place at Brauron little girls impersonated bears. Like all periods of history, the Classical Age of Greece, which lasted from about 500 B.C. until the death of Alexander the Great in 323 B.C., was complex and contradictory, a mix of superstition and rationality that blended revolutionary concepts and age - old traditions. Classical Greece is rightly regarded as a high - water mark of civilisation. Yet the living, breathing people who created this culture did not exist merely to turn out masterpiece after masterpiece for the later Western world to study, though it may seem that way to students of the humanities reluctant to embrace the less enchanting aspects of the culture. Because so much of Western culture has its roots in classical Greece, it is easy to overlook the living context from which this heritage arose. We focus on what we know, ignoring the features that strike us as bizarre or even repugnant. The great masterpieces of ancient Greece are our heritage, but it is doubtful that any modern Western person can fully comprehend their background. How can we, in the 21st century, envision the magic spells of the sorceress Medea? Or the magic behind the routine spilling of animal blood as sacrifice? Or the use of curse objects to summon ghosts from the underworld to harm one’s enemies? Yet these practices and beliefs, as much as the spirit of democracy and the value of aesthetic beauty, formed the nerves and sinews of ancient Greek culture. To professional classicists this is old news, but to the layman these unfamiliar aspects of Classical Greece are shocking. Unfamiliar as well, to the layman, are the centuries of earlier Greek life that laid the foundation for the famous “Golden Age” we study in school. For these reasons, I determined that when I travelled to Greece, I would visit all these different eras and rituals. I would pay tribute to the Parthenon — but also examine the “voodoo dolls” in the Kerameikos Museum in Athens. On the island of Euboea, north of Athens, an unusual site demonstrates that the Golden Age did not spring into existence fully formed but instead was centuries in the making. On a nondescript hillock overlooking the sea near the town of Lefkandi, a tenth - century B.C., a grave was revealed when ground was dug up for a house. The work unearthed the remains of an elaborate cremation and burial, uncannily similar to the burials of heroes described in Homer’s Iliad. In addition to the deceased’s bones, carefully wrapped in a piece of fabric and placed in an heirloom bronze urn, excavators found evidence of a building nearly 160 feet in length that had once covered the burial site. Dating from the era traditionally known as Greece’s Dark Age — some three and a half centuries that began with the collapse of the Mycenaean world — the Lefkandi finds were a reminder that however murky or “dark” this historical period may be to us, to the people of the time it was life. The Dark Age was an age of many things: oral bards continued the tradition of transmitting the Homeric masterpieces, the Iliad and Odyssey; distinctive pottery with geometric patterns was made throughout Greece; and as the Lefkandi site indicated, people built impressive structures to bury their dead in a manner befitting heroes. Like the carefully preserved bronze urn, two centuries older than the bones it contained, ideas — and culture — were passed on from generation to generation of the Greek people.

Classical Greece is one basis of Western culture and heritage. This statement

Directions: Read the passage and answer the question.

On the grassy slope below me was god’s precinct, a sacred spot, entered on pain of death. Indeed, worshippers of old believed that, once there, neither man nor beast could cast a shadow. In times past they had processed up this mountain in the night to reenact a ritual human sacrifice to their god — or so ancient sources tell us. At the festive meal, a person who chanced to eat human flesh mixed with the flesh of sacrificed animals would transform into a werewolf. In fact, Lykaion signifies wolf.
These enigmatic rites were celebrated not by an uncivilised people in a forgotten land but rather in the heart of classical Greece during its so - called Golden Age. The practitioners of these rites were respected Greek citizens, not fringe cultists, who worshiped Zeus, the king of the Gods. In a way, these rites were no more bizarre than countless mainstream festivals of the time: During the Athenian Thesmophoria, women retrieved the decayed bodies of piglets from pits into which they had tossed the dead animals months earlier, and in the rites of the goddess Artemis that took place at Brauron little girls impersonated bears. Like all periods of history, the Classical Age of Greece, which lasted from about 500 B.C. until the death of Alexander the Great in 323 B.C., was complex and contradictory, a mix of superstition and rationality that blended revolutionary concepts and age - old traditions. Classical Greece is rightly regarded as a high - water mark of civilisation. Yet the living, breathing people who created this culture did not exist merely to turn out masterpiece after masterpiece for the later Western world to study, though it may seem that way to students of the humanities reluctant to embrace the less enchanting aspects of the culture. Because so much of Western culture has its roots in classical Greece, it is easy to overlook the living context from which this heritage arose. We focus on what we know, ignoring the features that strike us as bizarre or even repugnant. The great masterpieces of ancient Greece are our heritage, but it is doubtful that any modern Western person can fully comprehend their background. How can we, in the 21st century, envision the magic spells of the sorceress Medea? Or the magic behind the routine spilling of animal blood as sacrifice? Or the use of curse objects to summon ghosts from the underworld to harm one’s enemies? Yet these practices and beliefs, as much as the spirit of democracy and the value of aesthetic beauty, formed the nerves and sinews of ancient Greek culture. To professional classicists this is old news, but to the layman these unfamiliar aspects of Classical Greece are shocking. Unfamiliar as well, to the layman, are the centuries of earlier Greek life that laid the foundation for the famous “Golden Age” we study in school. For these reasons, I determined that when I travelled to Greece, I would visit all these different eras and rituals. I would pay tribute to the Parthenon — but also examine the “voodoo dolls” in the Kerameikos Museum in Athens. On the island of Euboea, north of Athens, an unusual site demonstrates that the Golden Age did not spring into existence fully formed but instead was centuries in the making. On a nondescript hillock overlooking the sea near the town of Lefkandi, a tenth - century B.C., a grave was revealed when ground was dug up for a house. The work unearthed the remains of an elaborate cremation and burial, uncannily similar to the burials of heroes described in Homer’s Iliad. In addition to the deceased’s bones, carefully wrapped in a piece of fabric and placed in an heirloom bronze urn, excavators found evidence of a building nearly 160 feet in length that had once covered the burial site. Dating from the era traditionally known as Greece’s Dark Age — some three and a half centuries that began with the collapse of the Mycenaean world — the Lefkandi finds were a reminder that however murky or “dark” this historical period may be to us, to the people of the time it was life. The Dark Age was an age of many things: oral bards continued the tradition of transmitting the Homeric masterpieces, the Iliad and Odyssey; distinctive pottery with geometric patterns was made throughout Greece; and as the Lefkandi site indicated, people built impressive structures to bury their dead in a manner befitting heroes. Like the carefully preserved bronze urn, two centuries older than the bones it contained, ideas — and culture — were passed on from generation to generation of the Greek people.

“Students of the humanities” are called reluctant by the author because

Directions: Read the passage and answer the question.

On the grassy slope below me was god’s precinct, a sacred spot, entered on pain of death. Indeed, worshippers of old believed that, once there, neither man nor beast could cast a shadow. In times past they had processed up this mountain in the night to reenact a ritual human sacrifice to their god — or so ancient sources tell us. At the festive meal, a person who chanced to eat human flesh mixed with the flesh of sacrificed animals would transform into a werewolf. In fact, Lykaion signifies wolf.
These enigmatic rites were celebrated not by an uncivilised people in a forgotten land but rather in the heart of classical Greece during its so - called Golden Age. The practitioners of these rites were respected Greek citizens, not fringe cultists, who worshiped Zeus, the king of the Gods. In a way, these rites were no more bizarre than countless mainstream festivals of the time: During the Athenian Thesmophoria, women retrieved the decayed bodies of piglets from pits into which they had tossed the dead animals months earlier, and in the rites of the goddess Artemis that took place at Brauron little girls impersonated bears. Like all periods of history, the Classical Age of Greece, which lasted from about 500 B.C. until the death of Alexander the Great in 323 B.C., was complex and contradictory, a mix of superstition and rationality that blended revolutionary concepts and age - old traditions. Classical Greece is rightly regarded as a high - water mark of civilisation. Yet the living, breathing people who created this culture did not exist merely to turn out masterpiece after masterpiece for the later Western world to study, though it may seem that way to students of the humanities reluctant to embrace the less enchanting aspects of the culture. Because so much of Western culture has its roots in classical Greece, it is easy to overlook the living context from which this heritage arose. We focus on what we know, ignoring the features that strike us as bizarre or even repugnant. The great masterpieces of ancient Greece are our heritage, but it is doubtful that any modern Western person can fully comprehend their background. How can we, in the 21st century, envision the magic spells of the sorceress Medea? Or the magic behind the routine spilling of animal blood as sacrifice? Or the use of curse objects to summon ghosts from the underworld to harm one’s enemies? Yet these practices and beliefs, as much as the spirit of democracy and the value of aesthetic beauty, formed the nerves and sinews of ancient Greek culture. To professional classicists this is old news, but to the layman these unfamiliar aspects of Classical Greece are shocking. Unfamiliar as well, to the layman, are the centuries of earlier Greek life that laid the foundation for the famous “Golden Age” we study in school. For these reasons, I determined that when I travelled to Greece, I would visit all these different eras and rituals. I would pay tribute to the Parthenon — but also examine the “voodoo dolls” in the Kerameikos Museum in Athens. On the island of Euboea, north of Athens, an unusual site demonstrates that the Golden Age did not spring into existence fully formed but instead was centuries in the making. On a nondescript hillock overlooking the sea near the town of Lefkandi, a tenth - century B.C., a grave was revealed when ground was dug up for a house. The work unearthed the remains of an elaborate cremation and burial, uncannily similar to the burials of heroes described in Homer’s Iliad. In addition to the deceased’s bones, carefully wrapped in a piece of fabric and placed in an heirloom bronze urn, excavators found evidence of a building nearly 160 feet in length that had once covered the burial site. Dating from the era traditionally known as Greece’s Dark Age — some three and a half centuries that began with the collapse of the Mycenaean world — the Lefkandi finds were a reminder that however murky or “dark” this historical period may be to us, to the people of the time it was life. The Dark Age was an age of many things: oral bards continued the tradition of transmitting the Homeric masterpieces, the Iliad and Odyssey; distinctive pottery with geometric patterns was made throughout Greece; and as the Lefkandi site indicated, people built impressive structures to bury their dead in a manner befitting heroes. Like the carefully preserved bronze urn, two centuries older than the bones it contained, ideas — and culture — were passed on from generation to generation of the Greek people.

The author provides information that would answer which of the following questions?

(i) What have test-tube experiments revealed about the role of DNA? (ii) What viruses interfere with DNA replication? (iii) What methods have been developed to allow scientists to observe a living cell?

Directions: Read the passage and answer the question.

Nearly twenty years ago, biochemists found that a separable constituent of deoxyribonucleic acid (or DNA) appeared to guide the cell’s protein-synthesising machinery. The internal structure of DNA seemed to represent a set of coded instructions which dictated the pattern of protein - synthesis. Experiments indicated that in the presence of appropriate enzymes each DNA molecule could form a replica, a new DNA molecule, containing the specific guiding message present in the original. This idea, when added to what was already known about the cellular mechanisms of heredity (especially the knowledge that DNA is localised in chromosomes), appeared to establish a molecular basis for inheritance.
Proponents of the theory that DNA was a “self duplicating” molecule, containing a code that by itself determined biological inheritance, introduced the term “central dogma” into scientific literature. They did so in order to describe the principles that could explain the DNA’s governing role. The dogma originally involved an admittedly unproven assumption that, whereas nucleic acids can guide the synthesis of other nucleic acids and of proteins, the reverse effect is impossible; that is, proteins cannot guide the synthesis of nucleic acids. But actual experimental observations deny the second and crucial part of this assumption. Other test-tube experiments show that agents besides DNA have a guiding influence. The kind of protein that is made may depend on the specific organism from which the necessary enzyme is obtained. It also depends on the test tube’s temperature, the degree of acidity, and the amount of metallic salts present. The central dogma banishes from consideration the interactions among the numerous molecular processes that have been discovered in cells or in their extracted fluids. In the living cell, molecular processes — the synthesis of nucleic acids and proteins or the oxidation of food substance — are not separate but interact in exceedingly complex ways. No matter how many ingredients the biochemists’ test tubes may contain, the mixtures are nonliving. However, these same ingredients, organised by the subtle structure of the cell, constitute a system which is alive. Consider an example from another field. At ordinary temperatures, electricity flows only so long as a driving force from a battery or generator is imposed upon the circuit. At temperatures near absolute zero, metals exhibit superconductivity: a unique property that causes an electric current to flow for months after the voltage is cut off.
Although independent electrons exist in a metal at ordinary temperatures, at very low temperatures they interact with the metal’s atomic structure in such a way as to lose their individual identities and form a coordinated, collective system which gives rise to superconductivity.
Such discoveries of modern physics show that the unique properties of a complex system are not necessarily explicable solely by the properties that can be observed in its isolated parts. We can expect to find a similar situation in the complex chemical system of the living cells.

Why was the wine at the author’s friends place served in a stone mug?

(a) Because the friend wanted to show that he could use extraordinary glasses to produce different tastes (b) Because the friend wanted to show how rooted to the masses he was inspite of his contrasting upbringing (c) Because the author and his friend belonged to the labour party and both deemed it fi t that, it was only just that one of the greatest wines of the century should be served at his table in earthenware

Directions: Read the passage and answer the question.

Do you recall the pleasure of discovering a new brand that actually delivers something that is perceptively superior to an existing one? It usually doesn’t involve an entirely new approach or radical departure from conventional wisdom — one feels the product in question is effortlessly superior to whatever the previous standard was. This happened to me when I purchased my first pair of Timberland boots in the late Seventies from a cubbyhole of a shop in High Street Kensington. They looked just like other boots but were amazing — robust, comfortable and durable — something I confirmed while I tramped along the Thai - Cambodia border attempting to assist refugees fleeing from the Khmer Rouge.
These days, Timberland has established itself as a clothing, beachwear, and accessories brand, turning out scores of designer boots, shoes, slip - ons and deck shoes. Nowadays they are fully up to speed about their carbon footprint and recently acquired a company with a range of accessories for skateboarders. It is still a good brand, but there is that niggling feeling that Timberland is merely a fashion statement rather than a mould - breaking take on the work boot for the leisured classes.
Like Timberland, Riedel, the pioneer wine glass makers, knocked me sideways when I first tasted Bordeaux from their specially designed glass. It was state - of - the - art and effective; if you ever doubted the curve of a wine glass could completely alter the wine’s taste, you only had to drink an identical wine from two differently designed wine glasses. I can assure you, a Bordeaux tasted from a Burgundy glass was completely different. Various grape varieties taste differently according to the glass used because they affect specific parts of the palate, so that if the wine is “thrown” towards a particular portion of the roof of the mouth, different taste sensations arise.
Riedel glassware turn out their traditional quality products that are more or less still at the summit for their type. However, they now feel impelled to diversify in the desire to “expand the brand”, perhaps aiming to cover all bases while consumers still have a jangle in their sparechange pocket. Or perhaps, having enjoyed enormous growth off the back of a single, simple and inspired idea in the 1950s, Riedel, like Timberland, is experiencing a midlife crisis of sorts.
To celebrate their fiftieth anniversary, Riedel have launched the “Sommeliers Black Tie Range”, ultraexpensive glasses from £50 to £80 a throw. Doubtless there will be a market for these glasses in the tuxedo - wearing classes. The stems are black so when you eye up a filled glass on your banqueting table, it appears that the Lafleur ‘47 (or is it Kangarouge NV?) goes all the way down to the base. To help those hard of seeing, the white wine version merely has a black base and a clear stem. And that’s not all  — Riedel now have something “to wow your guests” called NachtmannBossa Nova plates, which “show off your culinary  presentation skills”. Help! Get me out of here! All I ever wanted was a sturdy pair of boots and a perfect glass for my Bordeaux — not some sort of lifestyle nightmare. It might be time to consider the impact of appropriate glasses for various wines. We should start with Champagne as virtually no one except celebrants at Mongolian National day in Ulan Bator uses those old saucer-shaped ones (Champagne coupes, they’re called). Little - known fact: the shape was allegedly based on Marie - Antoinette’s breast. The slender flute is now the preferred Champagne shape, although I have yet to hear anyone claim it is based on any part of the anatomy of Louis XVI. The flute is superior because it manages to contain the bubbles of the Champagne — and provided you are drinking something not mass-produced by the lifestyle people, you can actually smell its nose.
Flying in the face of this advice, the most memorable Champagne I ever tasted was Cristal Rosé served in a plastic cup on a Eurostar as it pulled out of Paris. We had just spent the night at Chateau de Saran in Epernay drinking no end of different vintages of Dom Perignon, including their rare RosÃ. One of our party thought that while those wines were perfectly acceptable, they didn’t compare to the charms of Cristal RosÃ. I still have no idea how he managed to slip away from the queue at the Gare du Nord and return triumphant, clutching a handful of plastic cups. Even with the handicap of the drinking vessel, it managed to transcend anything we had drunk in the past day or two. I have no doubt it would have been even more ethereal in a flute. The same would apply to my first experience of Latour ‘59, served up in a stone mug on a stem. I drank it with a passionate socialist friend (later a Labour Government Minister) who believed that despite his privileged upbringing, it was only just that one of the greatest wines of the century should be served at his table in earthenware. I watched in horror as he expounded on some now obscure point of the class struggle between slurps from his mug. At the reverse end of the spectrum, I have drunk several bottles of Cheval Blanc ‘83 with a hedge fund owner who insists on serving this glorious wine in eighteenth century crystal, which for all I know could have been Marie - Antoinette’s. It still managed to strut its stuff — no easy task when the crystal is as thick as a bottle top. However, even he was dumbstruck when I arrived with a series of tasting glasses and thought it would be amusing to compare them. The quality leap was discernable but sadly I was not affluent enough to gift them to him, so it will be back to the ancient regime.
Riedel are not the only option when it comes to fine wine; at present I prefer drinking fine Bordeaux from very thin tasting glasses, half the dimensions of the classic Riedel variety. However, Riedel do deserve huge credit for introducing the concept of wine - specific glasses, ranging from Bordeaux and Burgundies to Chianti and red Rhônes.
I recently went to a dinner in honour of Georg Riedel in London, where he had vast displays of his glassware, including the dreaded Black Tie ones. It was tad gratuitous to put up a Riedel glass of Grand - Puy - Lacoste ‘01 against a plastic cup with the same wine. No prizes for which tasted more interesting and revealed more of its character. Still, he is a craftsman and deserves honour. I only wish that the human race wasn’t genetically impelled to always expand and hunt for new markets. It is nothing very new, historically. When the Emperor Augustus died, his will instructed his successor not to expand the boundaries of the Empire, but before too many centuries the legions became restless and began appointing their own Emperors, such was their shame at not being allowed to conquer and pillage. I don’t have any fears about Riedel going down this fatal route if they stopped spreading themselves into the wider philistine world of the consumer. On the contrary, I won’t be too surprised when I hear of the Alcopops Riedel glass or the eco -   friendly slingback Timberland.

The author’s idea can be concluded best by which of the following options?

Directions: Read the passage and answer the question.

Poor citizens have little clout with politicians. In some countries the citizenry has only a weak hold on politicians. Even if there is a well functioning electoral system, poor people may not be able to influence politicians about public services. They may not be well informed about the quality of public services (and politicians know this); they may vote along ethnic or caste lines, placing less weight on public services when evaluating politicians; or they may not believe the candidates who promise better public services – for example, because their term in office is too short to deliver on the promise.

According to the author why does India have a “vital stake” in the matter of the U.S. – Iran – Iraq scenario?

(i) Since India is a neighbouring country and also one which is contributing to the regional security situation in Asia, it has a legitimate role to play in the above matter. (ii) Since India is a fast growing superpower with a neutral attitude, it should be given arbitration rights by virtue of being a neighbour. (iii) Since India is not an ally of any of the countries, it will have a position superior to the other countries in the region who are allies of either U.S. or Iran.

Directions: Read the passage and answer the question.

Coquetry has a place in life, and in politics. It has an element of intrigue and caprice. Nations indulge in it. The signals emanating from the current postures of the United States and Iran are truly fascinating. Lord Byron credited the ancient Persians with three skills: to draw the bow, to ride, and to speak the truth. Time and experience may have modulated some of these, transmuted others; the end product remains formidable.
American administrators, legislators, opinion-makers have themselves to blame for their myopic vision and frigid policies. They erred in 1979 and in subsequent decades added to follies in geometrical proportions. Isolation, containment, demonology, and outright hostility failed to produce the desired results. Iraq broke the camel’s back. Today, more and more Americans are coming round to the view that Iran remains “the ultimate test” of American leadership in a new world. The New York Times spoke for most when, on May 22, it opined editorially of “a grand bargain” that would include offer of full diplomatic relations and security guarantees “should Iran agree to verifiably contain its nuclear ambitions.”
And yet, this is precisely what was offered by Tehran in the spring of 2003, and rejected out of hand. So have other Iranian offers, including an external share in the ownership of the Iranian nuclear facilities. These are testified to by western commentators. Now, the outgoing Iranian Permanent Representative to the U.N. in New York, Javed Zarif (whose crucial role in the success of the 2001 Bonn conference on Afghanistan was acknowledged by American negotiators), has written a detailed account in the springsummer issue of the Journal of International Affairs.
“The interests of Iran and the United States,” writes Mr. Zarif, “have long been hostage to an outdated paradigm sustained by mutual mistrust and heavy historical baggage, and nurtured with facts or fiction generated by those benefiting from confrontation and war. Iran has a national security interest in restoring regional stability and preserving and strengthening disarmament and non - proliferation. But, preventing the manufactured `Iran threat’ from becoming the next global nightmare requires a drastic change in the U.S. approach — an approach that until now has impeded a genuine search for alternatives.”
If American arrogance lost the opportunity in 2003, the credit for rejecting a U.S. overture in 2005 goes to Iran. On both occasions, control of the high ground in Iraq provided the impulse. Iran has the satisfaction of having judged the evolving situation in Iraq correctly; hence the American anxiety at Sharm al Sheikh, matched by Iranian coyness in equal measure. Both were reflective of the ground reality, graphically reflected by Ghaith Abdul - Ahad in The Guardian on May 19: “You can’t move far in Basra without bumping into some evidence of the Iranian influence on the city” — from the market place to the militias. With so much at stake in terms of policies, interests, and national and individual egos, the enunciation of pre negotiating positions is of considerable relevance. Henry Kissinger would describe the statesmen on the two sides as representing “vastly different cultures,” fully aware that “mistakes are irretrievable.”
The U.S. policy of all options being on the table is, for the time being at least, modulated by the twin constraints of the Iraq quagmire and Congressional opinion. This does not prevent covert operations, said to be in full swing, particularly through Jundullah operating through the Sistan-Balochistan border. The financial squeeze resulting from the regime of sanctions imposed by the Security Council is also having an impact but will take much longer to be decisive. Regional opinion among friends in the Gulf Cooperation Council, as U.S. Vice - President Dick Cheney discovered, remains strongly opposed to war and to economic disruption. The taking of five Iranian Revolutionary Guards hostage in Erbil would make the Iranians sweat a bit to develop counter weights, but can hardly be decisive.
The Iranian approach to negotiations, and to the regional situation, has been spelt out with some candour in recent weeks. President Mahmoud Ahmadinejad’s talks in the United Arab Emirates and Oman focussed on stability in Iraq, security in the Persian Gulf, and economic cooperation and investments. He signalled willingness to talk to America while insisting on the latter’s withdrawal from Iraq and the Gulf. Foreign Minister Manouchehr Muttaki said on May 5 that two conditions must be satisfied for a meeting of Foreign Ministers: serious political will and substantive discussion by experts on “core issues.” Deputy Foreign Minister Abbas Arghachi emphasised the need on May 10 for “an exit strategy” for the U.S. and structured “face saving withdrawal” from Iraq to prevent descent into chaos. The most substantive senior level comment from Tehran came in a television interview given on May 17 by the former Foreign Minister, Ali Akbar Velayati, who is now Supreme Leader and Ali Khamenei’s senior adviser on international affairs. He said (a) a specific request for talks on Iraq has been received from the U.S. and has been agreed to from a position of strength; (b) this request is not a political gesture and has been made because “their problems are increasing on a daily basis”; (c) “Iran does not intend to provide circumstances whereby the occupiers can end their occupation gracefully”; (d) Iran agreed to talks because the Iraqi government “and good allies of the Islamic republic who are in various posts in Iraqi administration including people who have spiritual influence in Iraq” asked Iran to end the crisis and the occupation and accept America’s request; and (e) Iran has a duty to help the elected government of Iraq and will not remain indifferent to any attempt to “put another Saddam Hussein in Iraq.” Mr. Velayati added that negotiations would focus on Iraq and would not open the door for talks on other issues since talks can be useful only when they take place between countries in equal positions “without preconditions, claims, rudeness or negative propaganda.” He was emphatic in his assertion that “the domestic mindset that negotiations with America will solve all our problems is a mirage”; the government’s position on this is clear “but some ill considered positions here in the country might send false signals to the other party. The other party might imagine that there are two groups of Iranians — one group is eager for dialogue with the U.S. and the other group is against it.” He refuted a suggestion that Iran dilute its support to the Palestinians and the Hizbollah in Lebanon and cited in support of his argument a remark of Imam Ali: “no nation was ever defeated unless it sat at home and waited for the enemy to come.”
Mr. Velayati’s remarks are indicative of internal debate (and disagreement) on the strategy and tactics for talks. This is unavoidably linked to a wider domestic debate in which Mr. Ahmadinejad triumphed over the reformists in 2005; the latter, however, have regained some ground. The American effort is to influence this debate through (familiar) funding activities; these end up providing ammunition to the security establishment in Tehran. Many dissidents, therefore, consciously avoid a western embrace. A case in point is Akbar Ganji who wrote recently that “if the American goal is to achieve a just peace and regional tensions, inflaming the regime’s fear seems unlikely to succeed... Unilateral action against Iran in the absence of an overall plan for regional peace and security will be seen by most people of the region as aimed at safeguarding Israel’s supremacy and imposing an unjust peace on Palestinians and the Muslim world.”
Political change in Iran, he added, is necessary but it “must not be achieved by foreign intervention” and can only be achieved by Iranians through “a sustained, non - violent civil campaign.”
In the totality of this context, what possible direction would the talks scheduled for May 28 take? Both sides, for very different reasons, wish to discuss Iraq only. The U.S. would seek Iranian cooperation that may help pacification. The Iranians, recalling their Afghanistan experience with the Americans, would be in no mood to give something for nothing. The viewpoints would converge on creating conditions for stabilizing the Maleki government; the Americans, however, would seek far - reaching adjustments and concessions to give a measure of satisfaction to the Iraqi Sunnis and Iraq’s major Arab neighbors. Iran would insist, and America would not reject altogether, an end to American military presence in Iraq in its present form; the devil, however, would lie in the detail relating to the extent, manner and speed of withdrawal and on Mr. Velayati’s insistence on not facilitating a graceful exit. Where would the meeting point be?
Neither side visualizes an Iraq solution in a vacuum. The discussions inevitably would move to the region, to Iran’s legitimate aspirations, and eventually to the threat perception of Iran as well as that of its neighbours in the Persian Gulf. For this to be meaningfully addressed, the umbrella of a Pax Americana would not suffice. A new paradigm of regional security is indeed imperative. It cannot be developed without the U.S.; by the same token, it would not be adequate until all regional states — and all others having a stake in the security and stability of the Gulf region — are supportive. India, as a proximate neighbour, has a vital stake in the matter.

In the passage the words “Iran threat” have been mentioned in what context?

(i) It has been mentioned that Iran and its policies have for long been threatening global peace. (ii) It has been mentioned in the context of being an over-hyped issue which needs to be settled amicably and with a positive attitude, otherwise it can assume enormous proportions. (iii) It has been mentioned in the context of Iran – Iraq alignment against the US which could reach enormous heights and have for reaching results.

Directions: Read the passage and answer the question.

Coquetry has a place in life, and in politics. It has an element of intrigue and caprice. Nations indulge in it. The signals emanating from the current postures of the United States and Iran are truly fascinating. Lord Byron credited the ancient Persians with three skills: to draw the bow, to ride, and to speak the truth. Time and experience may have modulated some of these, transmuted others; the end product remains formidable.
American administrators, legislators, opinion-makers have themselves to blame for their myopic vision and frigid policies. They erred in 1979 and in subsequent decades added to follies in geometrical proportions. Isolation, containment, demonology, and outright hostility failed to produce the desired results. Iraq broke the camel’s back. Today, more and more Americans are coming round to the view that Iran remains “the ultimate test” of American leadership in a new world. The New York Times spoke for most when, on May 22, it opined editorially of “a grand bargain” that would include offer of full diplomatic relations and security guarantees “should Iran agree to verifiably contain its nuclear ambitions.”
And yet, this is precisely what was offered by Tehran in the spring of 2003, and rejected out of hand. So have other Iranian offers, including an external share in the ownership of the Iranian nuclear facilities. These are testified to by western commentators. Now, the outgoing Iranian Permanent Representative to the U.N. in New York, Javed Zarif (whose crucial role in the success of the 2001 Bonn conference on Afghanistan was acknowledged by American negotiators), has written a detailed account in the springsummer issue of the Journal of International Affairs.
“The interests of Iran and the United States,” writes Mr. Zarif, “have long been hostage to an outdated paradigm sustained by mutual mistrust and heavy historical baggage, and nurtured with facts or fiction generated by those benefiting from confrontation and war. Iran has a national security interest in restoring regional stability and preserving and strengthening disarmament and non - proliferation. But, preventing the manufactured `Iran threat’ from becoming the next global nightmare requires a drastic change in the U.S. approach — an approach that until now has impeded a genuine search for alternatives.”
If American arrogance lost the opportunity in 2003, the credit for rejecting a U.S. overture in 2005 goes to Iran. On both occasions, control of the high ground in Iraq provided the impulse. Iran has the satisfaction of having judged the evolving situation in Iraq correctly; hence the American anxiety at Sharm al Sheikh, matched by Iranian coyness in equal measure. Both were reflective of the ground reality, graphically reflected by Ghaith Abdul - Ahad in The Guardian on May 19: “You can’t move far in Basra without bumping into some evidence of the Iranian influence on the city” — from the market place to the militias. With so much at stake in terms of policies, interests, and national and individual egos, the enunciation of pre negotiating positions is of considerable relevance. Henry Kissinger would describe the statesmen on the two sides as representing “vastly different cultures,” fully aware that “mistakes are irretrievable.”
The U.S. policy of all options being on the table is, for the time being at least, modulated by the twin constraints of the Iraq quagmire and Congressional opinion. This does not prevent covert operations, said to be in full swing, particularly through Jundullah operating through the Sistan-Balochistan border. The financial squeeze resulting from the regime of sanctions imposed by the Security Council is also having an impact but will take much longer to be decisive. Regional opinion among friends in the Gulf Cooperation Council, as U.S. Vice - President Dick Cheney discovered, remains strongly opposed to war and to economic disruption. The taking of five Iranian Revolutionary Guards hostage in Erbil would make the Iranians sweat a bit to develop counter weights, but can hardly be decisive.
The Iranian approach to negotiations, and to the regional situation, has been spelt out with some candour in recent weeks. President Mahmoud Ahmadinejad’s talks in the United Arab Emirates and Oman focussed on stability in Iraq, security in the Persian Gulf, and economic cooperation and investments. He signalled willingness to talk to America while insisting on the latter’s withdrawal from Iraq and the Gulf. Foreign Minister Manouchehr Muttaki said on May 5 that two conditions must be satisfied for a meeting of Foreign Ministers: serious political will and substantive discussion by experts on “core issues.” Deputy Foreign Minister Abbas Arghachi emphasised the need on May 10 for “an exit strategy” for the U.S. and structured “face saving withdrawal” from Iraq to prevent descent into chaos. The most substantive senior level comment from Tehran came in a television interview given on May 17 by the former Foreign Minister, Ali Akbar Velayati, who is now Supreme Leader and Ali Khamenei’s senior adviser on international affairs. He said (a) a specific request for talks on Iraq has been received from the U.S. and has been agreed to from a position of strength; (b) this request is not a political gesture and has been made because “their problems are increasing on a daily basis”; (c) “Iran does not intend to provide circumstances whereby the occupiers can end their occupation gracefully”; (d) Iran agreed to talks because the Iraqi government “and good allies of the Islamic republic who are in various posts in Iraqi administration including people who have spiritual influence in Iraq” asked Iran to end the crisis and the occupation and accept America’s request; and (e) Iran has a duty to help the elected government of Iraq and will not remain indifferent to any attempt to “put another Saddam Hussein in Iraq.” Mr. Velayati added that negotiations would focus on Iraq and would not open the door for talks on other issues since talks can be useful only when they take place between countries in equal positions “without preconditions, claims, rudeness or negative propaganda.” He was emphatic in his assertion that “the domestic mindset that negotiations with America will solve all our problems is a mirage”; the government’s position on this is clear “but some ill considered positions here in the country might send false signals to the other party. The other party might imagine that there are two groups of Iranians — one group is eager for dialogue with the U.S. and the other group is against it.” He refuted a suggestion that Iran dilute its support to the Palestinians and the Hizbollah in Lebanon and cited in support of his argument a remark of Imam Ali: “no nation was ever defeated unless it sat at home and waited for the enemy to come.”
Mr. Velayati’s remarks are indicative of internal debate (and disagreement) on the strategy and tactics for talks. This is unavoidably linked to a wider domestic debate in which Mr. Ahmadinejad triumphed over the reformists in 2005; the latter, however, have regained some ground. The American effort is to influence this debate through (familiar) funding activities; these end up providing ammunition to the security establishment in Tehran. Many dissidents, therefore, consciously avoid a western embrace. A case in point is Akbar Ganji who wrote recently that “if the American goal is to achieve a just peace and regional tensions, inflaming the regime’s fear seems unlikely to succeed... Unilateral action against Iran in the absence of an overall plan for regional peace and security will be seen by most people of the region as aimed at safeguarding Israel’s supremacy and imposing an unjust peace on Palestinians and the Muslim world.”
Political change in Iran, he added, is necessary but it “must not be achieved by foreign intervention” and can only be achieved by Iranians through “a sustained, non - violent civil campaign.”
In the totality of this context, what possible direction would the talks scheduled for May 28 take? Both sides, for very different reasons, wish to discuss Iraq only. The U.S. would seek Iranian cooperation that may help pacification. The Iranians, recalling their Afghanistan experience with the Americans, would be in no mood to give something for nothing. The viewpoints would converge on creating conditions for stabilizing the Maleki government; the Americans, however, would seek far - reaching adjustments and concessions to give a measure of satisfaction to the Iraqi Sunnis and Iraq’s major Arab neighbors. Iran would insist, and America would not reject altogether, an end to American military presence in Iraq in its present form; the devil, however, would lie in the detail relating to the extent, manner and speed of withdrawal and on Mr. Velayati’s insistence on not facilitating a graceful exit. Where would the meeting point be?
Neither side visualizes an Iraq solution in a vacuum. The discussions inevitably would move to the region, to Iran’s legitimate aspirations, and eventually to the threat perception of Iran as well as that of its neighbours in the Persian Gulf. For this to be meaningfully addressed, the umbrella of a Pax Americana would not suffice. A new paradigm of regional security is indeed imperative. It cannot be developed without the U.S.; by the same token, it would not be adequate until all regional states — and all others having a stake in the security and stability of the Gulf region — are supportive. India, as a proximate neighbour, has a vital stake in the matter.

What is the overall tone of the passage?

Directions: Read the passage and answer the question.

Coquetry has a place in life, and in politics. It has an element of intrigue and caprice. Nations indulge in it. The signals emanating from the current postures of the United States and Iran are truly fascinating. Lord Byron credited the ancient Persians with three skills: to draw the bow, to ride, and to speak the truth. Time and experience may have modulated some of these, transmuted others; the end product remains formidable.
American administrators, legislators, opinion-makers have themselves to blame for their myopic vision and frigid policies. They erred in 1979 and in subsequent decades added to follies in geometrical proportions. Isolation, containment, demonology, and outright hostility failed to produce the desired results. Iraq broke the camel’s back. Today, more and more Americans are coming round to the view that Iran remains “the ultimate test” of American leadership in a new world. The New York Times spoke for most when, on May 22, it opined editorially of “a grand bargain” that would include offer of full diplomatic relations and security guarantees “should Iran agree to verifiably contain its nuclear ambitions.”
And yet, this is precisely what was offered by Tehran in the spring of 2003, and rejected out of hand. So have other Iranian offers, including an external share in the ownership of the Iranian nuclear facilities. These are testified to by western commentators. Now, the outgoing Iranian Permanent Representative to the U.N. in New York, Javed Zarif (whose crucial role in the success of the 2001 Bonn conference on Afghanistan was acknowledged by American negotiators), has written a detailed account in the springsummer issue of the Journal of International Affairs.
“The interests of Iran and the United States,” writes Mr. Zarif, “have long been hostage to an outdated paradigm sustained by mutual mistrust and heavy historical baggage, and nurtured with facts or fiction generated by those benefiting from confrontation and war. Iran has a national security interest in restoring regional stability and preserving and strengthening disarmament and non - proliferation. But, preventing the manufactured `Iran threat’ from becoming the next global nightmare requires a drastic change in the U.S. approach — an approach that until now has impeded a genuine search for alternatives.”
If American arrogance lost the opportunity in 2003, the credit for rejecting a U.S. overture in 2005 goes to Iran. On both occasions, control of the high ground in Iraq provided the impulse. Iran has the satisfaction of having judged the evolving situation in Iraq correctly; hence the American anxiety at Sharm al Sheikh, matched by Iranian coyness in equal measure. Both were reflective of the ground reality, graphically reflected by Ghaith Abdul - Ahad in The Guardian on May 19: “You can’t move far in Basra without bumping into some evidence of the Iranian influence on the city” — from the market place to the militias. With so much at stake in terms of policies, interests, and national and individual egos, the enunciation of pre negotiating positions is of considerable relevance. Henry Kissinger would describe the statesmen on the two sides as representing “vastly different cultures,” fully aware that “mistakes are irretrievable.”
The U.S. policy of all options being on the table is, for the time being at least, modulated by the twin constraints of the Iraq quagmire and Congressional opinion. This does not prevent covert operations, said to be in full swing, particularly through Jundullah operating through the Sistan-Balochistan border. The financial squeeze resulting from the regime of sanctions imposed by the Security Council is also having an impact but will take much longer to be decisive. Regional opinion among friends in the Gulf Cooperation Council, as U.S. Vice - President Dick Cheney discovered, remains strongly opposed to war and to economic disruption. The taking of five Iranian Revolutionary Guards hostage in Erbil would make the Iranians sweat a bit to develop counter weights, but can hardly be decisive.
The Iranian approach to negotiations, and to the regional situation, has been spelt out with some candour in recent weeks. President Mahmoud Ahmadinejad’s talks in the United Arab Emirates and Oman focussed on stability in Iraq, security in the Persian Gulf, and economic cooperation and investments. He signalled willingness to talk to America while insisting on the latter’s withdrawal from Iraq and the Gulf. Foreign Minister Manouchehr Muttaki said on May 5 that two conditions must be satisfied for a meeting of Foreign Ministers: serious political will and substantive discussion by experts on “core issues.” Deputy Foreign Minister Abbas Arghachi emphasised the need on May 10 for “an exit strategy” for the U.S. and structured “face saving withdrawal” from Iraq to prevent descent into chaos. The most substantive senior level comment from Tehran came in a television interview given on May 17 by the former Foreign Minister, Ali Akbar Velayati, who is now Supreme Leader and Ali Khamenei’s senior adviser on international affairs. He said (a) a specific request for talks on Iraq has been received from the U.S. and has been agreed to from a position of strength; (b) this request is not a political gesture and has been made because “their problems are increasing on a daily basis”; (c) “Iran does not intend to provide circumstances whereby the occupiers can end their occupation gracefully”; (d) Iran agreed to talks because the Iraqi government “and good allies of the Islamic republic who are in various posts in Iraqi administration including people who have spiritual influence in Iraq” asked Iran to end the crisis and the occupation and accept America’s request; and (e) Iran has a duty to help the elected government of Iraq and will not remain indifferent to any attempt to “put another Saddam Hussein in Iraq.” Mr. Velayati added that negotiations would focus on Iraq and would not open the door for talks on other issues since talks can be useful only when they take place between countries in equal positions “without preconditions, claims, rudeness or negative propaganda.” He was emphatic in his assertion that “the domestic mindset that negotiations with America will solve all our problems is a mirage”; the government’s position on this is clear “but some ill considered positions here in the country might send false signals to the other party. The other party might imagine that there are two groups of Iranians — one group is eager for dialogue with the U.S. and the other group is against it.” He refuted a suggestion that Iran dilute its support to the Palestinians and the Hizbollah in Lebanon and cited in support of his argument a remark of Imam Ali: “no nation was ever defeated unless it sat at home and waited for the enemy to come.”
Mr. Velayati’s remarks are indicative of internal debate (and disagreement) on the strategy and tactics for talks. This is unavoidably linked to a wider domestic debate in which Mr. Ahmadinejad triumphed over the reformists in 2005; the latter, however, have regained some ground. The American effort is to influence this debate through (familiar) funding activities; these end up providing ammunition to the security establishment in Tehran. Many dissidents, therefore, consciously avoid a western embrace. A case in point is Akbar Ganji who wrote recently that “if the American goal is to achieve a just peace and regional tensions, inflaming the regime’s fear seems unlikely to succeed... Unilateral action against Iran in the absence of an overall plan for regional peace and security will be seen by most people of the region as aimed at safeguarding Israel’s supremacy and imposing an unjust peace on Palestinians and the Muslim world.”
Political change in Iran, he added, is necessary but it “must not be achieved by foreign intervention” and can only be achieved by Iranians through “a sustained, non - violent civil campaign.”
In the totality of this context, what possible direction would the talks scheduled for May 28 take? Both sides, for very different reasons, wish to discuss Iraq only. The U.S. would seek Iranian cooperation that may help pacification. The Iranians, recalling their Afghanistan experience with the Americans, would be in no mood to give something for nothing. The viewpoints would converge on creating conditions for stabilizing the Maleki government; the Americans, however, would seek far - reaching adjustments and concessions to give a measure of satisfaction to the Iraqi Sunnis and Iraq’s major Arab neighbors. Iran would insist, and America would not reject altogether, an end to American military presence in Iraq in its present form; the devil, however, would lie in the detail relating to the extent, manner and speed of withdrawal and on Mr. Velayati’s insistence on not facilitating a graceful exit. Where would the meeting point be?
Neither side visualizes an Iraq solution in a vacuum. The discussions inevitably would move to the region, to Iran’s legitimate aspirations, and eventually to the threat perception of Iran as well as that of its neighbours in the Persian Gulf. For this to be meaningfully addressed, the umbrella of a Pax Americana would not suffice. A new paradigm of regional security is indeed imperative. It cannot be developed without the U.S.; by the same token, it would not be adequate until all regional states — and all others having a stake in the security and stability of the Gulf region — are supportive. India, as a proximate neighbour, has a vital stake in the matter.

What could be a suitable title for the passage?

Directions: Read the passage and answer the question

SOMETHING has stirred in the electoral swamp. From beneath the fog of infantile rows over “efficiency savings”, and the miasma of obfuscation over the fiscal deficit—not to mention the centrist convergence that has beset British politics for a decade—a bona fide argument has finally emerged. Its lineaments were sketched by the election manifestos published this week.

Despite other signs of its senescence, labour hasn’t run out of ideas. Its manifesto contains lots of micro-initiatives and a central, organising theme. It is the same one that the party began peddling, with less substantiation, at the time of the financial crisis of 2008: the virtues of a benevolent, active state, especially during economic strain. Thus Labour’s manifesto offers an “activist industrial strategy”, some (modest) enhancements of the welfare safety-net and legal “guarantees” of public-service performance.

There are nuances, of course. The manifesto hints at the market-based reform agenda that Gordon Brown inherited from Tony Blair, about which Mr Brown has often seemed ambivalent. Labour (again) pledges freedom for hospitals, plus takeovers of failing schools (potentially triggered by parents) and police forces. It promises more “voice and choice” for citizens. But while those nouns rhyme, they are distinct, and Labour is ultimately offering more of the former than the latter: new ways to register discontent and exert pressure, within a system in which the state is the final arbiter and enforcer of standards and remedies.

Meanwhile, from beneath the swirl of off-putting jargon that had shrouded it (the “post-bureaucratic age” and the rest), the Conservatives have extracted a core manifesto theme too: the “Big Society”. Their basic case is that the state should devolve (some) power to local authorities and communities, and outsource the provision of more services to competing social enterprises and charities. They advocate new state-funded but independent schools; the establishment of more co-operatives by NHS employees; the tendering of more welfare-to-work services to private providers. They would introduce elected police commissioners, more local referendums, and so on.

This pitch likewise has glitches and qualifications. Most importantly, it is a plan to shrink the set of tasks the state itself performs, not those for which it undertakes to pay. So it isn’t merely, as the Tories’ opponents maintain, a return to a cruel era of inadequate voluntarism—but nor is it a credible strategy for saving taxpayers’ money, atleast to begin with.

Moreover, David Cameron’s vision of a humbler state is clouded by his wish to extend its reach into private relationships, via his silly and tokenistic tax break for some married couples. That is a flash of the kind of irrational authoritarianism that warps much American conservatism and still lurks in many Tory breasts. Nick Clegg, the leader of the Liberal Democrats, accurately called the marriage policy “patronising drivel”. (The Lib-Dem manifesto overlaps with the Tories’ on schools and police reform, though Mr Clegg’s party would give local councils more financial clout, and with Labour’s on health-care guarantees.)

All the same, in essence, this is the debate: State versus Society; Voice versus  Choice. Thoughtful Labour politicians prefer to cast the stand-off as their “smart” state versus the Tories’ “minimal” one. But they don’t dispute the essential dichotomy.

Two questions follow. Which prospectus is better? And—by no means the same thing—which is likely to be more popular?

This much is plain: Labour’s statism has failed to crack the country’s toughest social problems, such as its pockets of entrenched worklessness and educational inequalities. Mr Brown’s fondness for the lexicon of “grand bargains” and “national councils”, plus his habit of passing optimistic statutes—mandating the repair of the public finances or an end to child poverty—suggest an ingrained and inflated view of the state’s redemptive power.

But the Tories’ revamped communitarianism has weaknesses too. The most obvious is that it elides two phenomena that may prove unconnected: a consumerist desire for ever-improving public services, and people’s willingness actually to do something to improve them. Are community groups really going to spring up to, say (the Tories do), manage local libraries? It is doubtful whether the incentives Mr Cameron is offering are strong enough to galvanise them. Indeed, his party’s faith in an imminent frenzy of civic activism rather contradicts another of its mantras—that British society is “broken”. It is also hard to see how, within their new competitive dispensation, the Tories will extend payment by results to all the areas they say they will. That model makes sense for prisoner rehabilitation; but the outcomes of Sure Start (which ministers to babies and toddlers) might be harder to measure. And Bagehot wonders about the wisdom of politicising policing as crassly as elected commissioners might.

So the Tory method might fail too, though it would fail differently. As for popularity: if it worked, it would necessarily produce wild and controversial variations in quality of service. Fear of the resulting angst is one reason why governments have tended to hoard power rather than distribute it. Perhaps the Tories would have the grit to withstand the backlash—that is, assuming they get elected: just as voters may not rush to set up co-ops, the prospect of doing so may not entice many to vote Tory. Labour’s hunch that the crisis and recession have endeared state protection to some Britons (never an overly ideological bunch) may be valid. One senior Labour figure wryly remarks that the country wants his party’s policies, but the Tories’ leader. In reality, more guttural instincts will probably determine this election’s outcome, as usual. For those who care to notice it, however, Britain now has a meaningful philosophical choice.

Why does the author mention the example of Colleen?

Directions: Read the passage and answer the question.

“Having a Sister Makes You Happier”: that was the headline of a recent article about a study finding that adolescents who have a sister are less likely to report such feelings as “I am unhappy, sad or depressed” and “I feel like no one loves me.”
These findings are no fluke; other studies have come to similar conclusions. But why would having a sister make you happier?
The usual answer — that girls and women are more likely than boys and men to talk about emotions — is somehow unsatisfying, especially to a researcher like me. Much of my work over the years has developed the premise that women’s styles of friendship and conversation aren’t inherently better than men’s, simply different.
A man once told me that he had spent a day with a friend who was going through a divorce. When he returned home, his wife asked how his friend was coping. He replied: “I don’t know. We didn’t talk about it.” His wife chastised him. Obviously, she said, the friend needed to talk about what he was going through. This made the man feel bad. So he was relieved to read in my book “You Just Don’t Understand” (Ballantine, 1990) that doing things together can be a comfort in itself, another way to show caring. Asking about the divorce might have made his friend feel worse by reminding him of it, and expressing concern could have come across as condescending. The man who told me this was himself comforted to be reassured that his instincts hadn’t been wrong and he hadn’t let his friend down.
But if talking about problems isn’t necessary for comfort, then having sisters shouldn’t make men happier than having brothers. Yet the recent study — by Laura Padilla - Walker and her colleagues at Brigham Young University — is supported by others.
Last year, for example, the British psychologists Lis Wright and Tony Cassidy found that young people who had grown up with at least one sister tended to be happier and more optimistic, especially if their parents had divorced. Another British researcher, Judy Dunn, found a similar pattern among older adults.
So what is going on?
My own recent research about sisters suggests a more subtle dynamic. I interviewed more than 100 women about their sisters, but if they also had brothers, I asked them to compare. Most said they talked to their sisters more often, at greater length and, yes, about more personal topics. This often meant that they felt closer to their sisters, but not always.
One woman, for example, says she talks for hours by phone to her two brothers as well as her two sisters. But the topics differ. She talks to her sisters about their personal lives; with her brothers she discusses history, geography and books. And, she added, one brother calls her at 5 a.m. as a prank.
A prank? Is this communication? Well, yes — it reminds her that he’s thinking of her. And talking for hours creates and reinforces connections with both brothers and sisters, regardless of what they talk about.
A student in my class recounted a situation that shows how this can work. When their family dog died, the siblings (a brother and three sisters) all called one another. The sisters told one another how much they missed the dog and how terrible they felt. The brother expressed concern for everyone in the family but said nothing about what he himself was feeling.
My student didn’t doubt that her brother felt the same as his sisters; he just didn’t say it directly. And I’ll bet that having the phone conversations served exactly the same purpose for him as the sisters’ calls did for them: providing comfort in the face of their shared loss.
So the key to why having sisters makes people happier — men as well as women — may lie not in the kind of talk they exchange but in the fact of talk. If men, like women, talk more often to their sisters than to their brothers, that could explain why sisters make them happier. The interviews I conducted with women reinforced this insight. Many told me that they don’t talk to their sisters about personal problems, either. An example is Colleen, a widow in her 80s who told me that she’d been very close to her unmarried sister throughout their lives, though they never discussed their personal problems. An image of these sisters has remained indelible in my mind.
Late in life, the sister came to live with Colleen and her husband. Colleen recalled that each morning after her husband got up to make coffee, her sister would stop by Colleen’s bedroom to say good morning. Colleen would urge her sister to join her in bed. As they sat up in bed side by side, holding hands, Colleen and her sister would “just talk.”
That’s another kind of conversation that many women engage in which baffles many men: talk about details of their daily lives, like the sweater they found on sale — details, you might say, as insignificant as those about last night’s ballgame which can baffle women when they overhear men talking. These seemingly pointless conversations are as comforting to some women as “troubles talk” conversations are to others.
So maybe it’s true that talk is the reason having a sister makes you happier, but it needn’t be talk about emotions. When women told me they talk to their sisters more often, at greater length and about more personal topics, I suspect it’s that first element — more often — that is crucial rather than the last.
This makes sense to me as a linguist who truly believes that women’s ways of talking are not inherently better than men’s. It also feels right to me as a woman with two sisters — one who likes to have long conversations about feelings and one who doesn’t, but who both make me happier.

What is the author trying to convey in the passage?

Directions: Read the passage and answer the question.

“Having a Sister Makes You Happier”: that was the headline of a recent article about a study finding that adolescents who have a sister are less likely to report such feelings as “I am unhappy, sad or depressed” and “I feel like no one loves me.”
These findings are no fluke; other studies have come to similar conclusions. But why would having a sister make you happier?
The usual answer — that girls and women are more likely than boys and men to talk about emotions — is somehow unsatisfying, especially to a researcher like me. Much of my work over the years has developed the premise that women’s styles of friendship and conversation aren’t inherently better than men’s, simply different.
A man once told me that he had spent a day with a friend who was going through a divorce. When he returned home, his wife asked how his friend was coping. He replied: “I don’t know. We didn’t talk about it.” His wife chastised him. Obviously, she said, the friend needed to talk about what he was going through. This made the man feel bad. So he was relieved to read in my book “You Just Don’t Understand” (Ballantine, 1990) that doing things together can be a comfort in itself, another way to show caring. Asking about the divorce might have made his friend feel worse by reminding him of it, and expressing concern could have come across as condescending. The man who told me this was himself comforted to be reassured that his instincts hadn’t been wrong and he hadn’t let his friend down.
But if talking about problems isn’t necessary for comfort, then having sisters shouldn’t make men happier than having brothers. Yet the recent study — by Laura Padilla - Walker and her colleagues at Brigham Young University — is supported by others.
Last year, for example, the British psychologists Lis Wright and Tony Cassidy found that young people who had grown up with at least one sister tended to be happier and more optimistic, especially if their parents had divorced. Another British researcher, Judy Dunn, found a similar pattern among older adults.
So what is going on?
My own recent research about sisters suggests a more subtle dynamic. I interviewed more than 100 women about their sisters, but if they also had brothers, I asked them to compare. Most said they talked to their sisters more often, at greater length and, yes, about more personal topics. This often meant that they felt closer to their sisters, but not always.
One woman, for example, says she talks for hours by phone to her two brothers as well as her two sisters. But the topics differ. She talks to her sisters about their personal lives; with her brothers she discusses history, geography and books. And, she added, one brother calls her at 5 a.m. as a prank.
A prank? Is this communication? Well, yes — it reminds her that he’s thinking of her. And talking for hours creates and reinforces connections with both brothers and sisters, regardless of what they talk about.
A student in my class recounted a situation that shows how this can work. When their family dog died, the siblings (a brother and three sisters) all called one another. The sisters told one another how much they missed the dog and how terrible they felt. The brother expressed concern for everyone in the family but said nothing about what he himself was feeling.
My student didn’t doubt that her brother felt the same as his sisters; he just didn’t say it directly. And I’ll bet that having the phone conversations served exactly the same purpose for him as the sisters’ calls did for them: providing comfort in the face of their shared loss.
So the key to why having sisters makes people happier — men as well as women — may lie not in the kind of talk they exchange but in the fact of talk. If men, like women, talk more often to their sisters than to their brothers, that could explain why sisters make them happier. The interviews I conducted with women reinforced this insight. Many told me that they don’t talk to their sisters about personal problems, either. An example is Colleen, a widow in her 80s who told me that she’d been very close to her unmarried sister throughout their lives, though they never discussed their personal problems. An image of these sisters has remained indelible in my mind.
Late in life, the sister came to live with Colleen and her husband. Colleen recalled that each morning after her husband got up to make coffee, her sister would stop by Colleen’s bedroom to say good morning. Colleen would urge her sister to join her in bed. As they sat up in bed side by side, holding hands, Colleen and her sister would “just talk.”
That’s another kind of conversation that many women engage in which baffles many men: talk about details of their daily lives, like the sweater they found on sale — details, you might say, as insignificant as those about last night’s ballgame which can baffle women when they overhear men talking. These seemingly pointless conversations are as comforting to some women as “troubles talk” conversations are to others.
So maybe it’s true that talk is the reason having a sister makes you happier, but it needn’t be talk about emotions. When women told me they talk to their sisters more often, at greater length and about more personal topics, I suspect it’s that first element — more often — that is crucial rather than the last.
This makes sense to me as a linguist who truly believes that women’s ways of talking are not inherently better than men’s. It also feels right to me as a woman with two sisters — one who likes to have long conversations about feelings and one who doesn’t, but who both make me happier.

In what context has the word ‘senescence’ been used in the passage?

Directions: Read the passage and answer the question

SOMETHING has stirred in the electoral swamp. From beneath the fog of infantile rows over “efficiency savings”, and the miasma of obfuscation over the fiscal deficit—not to mention the centrist convergence that has beset British politics for a decade—a bona fide argument has finally emerged. Its lineaments were sketched by the election manifestos published this week.

Despite other signs of its senescence, labour hasn’t run out of ideas. Its manifesto contains lots of micro-initiatives and a central, organising theme. It is the same one that the party began peddling, with less substantiation, at the time of the financial crisis of 2008: the virtues of a benevolent, active state, especially during economic strain. Thus Labour’s manifesto offers an “activist industrial strategy”, some (modest) enhancements of the welfare safety-net and legal “guarantees” of public-service performance.

There are nuances, of course. The manifesto hints at the market-based reform agenda that Gordon Brown inherited from Tony Blair, about which Mr Brown has often seemed ambivalent. Labour (again) pledges freedom for hospitals, plus takeovers of failing schools (potentially triggered by parents) and police forces. It promises more “voice and choice” for citizens. But while those nouns rhyme, they are distinct, and Labour is ultimately offering more of the former than the latter: new ways to register discontent and exert pressure, within a system in which the state is the final arbiter and enforcer of standards and remedies.

Meanwhile, from beneath the swirl of off-putting jargon that had shrouded it (the “post-bureaucratic age” and the rest), the Conservatives have extracted a core manifesto theme too: the “Big Society”. Their basic case is that the state should devolve (some) power to local authorities and communities, and outsource the provision of more services to competing social enterprises and charities. They advocate new state-funded but independent schools; the establishment of more co-operatives by NHS employees; the tendering of more welfare-to-work services to private providers. They would introduce elected police commissioners, more local referendums, and so on.

This pitch likewise has glitches and qualifications. Most importantly, it is a plan to shrink the set of tasks the state itself performs, not those for which it undertakes to pay. So it isn’t merely, as the Tories’ opponents maintain, a return to a cruel era of inadequate voluntarism—but nor is it a credible strategy for saving taxpayers’ money, atleast to begin with.

Moreover, David Cameron’s vision of a humbler state is clouded by his wish to extend its reach into private relationships, via his silly and tokenistic tax break for some married couples. That is a flash of the kind of irrational authoritarianism that warps much American conservatism and still lurks in many Tory breasts. Nick Clegg, the leader of the Liberal Democrats, accurately called the marriage policy “patronising drivel”. (The Lib-Dem manifesto overlaps with the Tories’ on schools and police reform, though Mr Clegg’s party would give local councils more financial clout, and with Labour’s on health-care guarantees.)

All the same, in essence, this is the debate: State versus Society; Voice versus  Choice. Thoughtful Labour politicians prefer to cast the stand-off as their “smart” state versus the Tories’ “minimal” one. But they don’t dispute the essential dichotomy.

Two questions follow. Which prospectus is better? And—by no means the same thing—which is likely to be more popular?

This much is plain: Labour’s statism has failed to crack the country’s toughest social problems, such as its pockets of entrenched worklessness and educational inequalities. Mr Brown’s fondness for the lexicon of “grand bargains” and “national councils”, plus his habit of passing optimistic statutes—mandating the repair of the public finances or an end to child poverty—suggest an ingrained and inflated view of the state’s redemptive power.

But the Tories’ revamped communitarianism has weaknesses too. The most obvious is that it elides two phenomena that may prove unconnected: a consumerist desire for ever-improving public services, and people’s willingness actually to do something to improve them. Are community groups really going to spring up to, say (the Tories do), manage local libraries? It is doubtful whether the incentives Mr Cameron is offering are strong enough to galvanise them. Indeed, his party’s faith in an imminent frenzy of civic activism rather contradicts another of its mantras—that British society is “broken”. It is also hard to see how, within their new competitive dispensation, the Tories will extend payment by results to all the areas they say they will. That model makes sense for prisoner rehabilitation; but the outcomes of Sure Start (which ministers to babies and toddlers) might be harder to measure. And Bagehot wonders about the wisdom of politicising policing as crassly as elected commissioners might.

So the Tory method might fail too, though it would fail differently. As for popularity: if it worked, it would necessarily produce wild and controversial variations in quality of service. Fear of the resulting angst is one reason why governments have tended to hoard power rather than distribute it. Perhaps the Tories would have the grit to withstand the backlash—that is, assuming they get elected: just as voters may not rush to set up co-ops, the prospect of doing so may not entice many to vote Tory. Labour’s hunch that the crisis and recession have endeared state protection to some Britons (never an overly ideological bunch) may be valid. One senior Labour figure wryly remarks that the country wants his party’s policies, but the Tories’ leader. In reality, more guttural instincts will probably determine this election’s outcome, as usual. For those who care to notice it, however, Britain now has a meaningful philosophical choice.