If we click on the link we will be taken to a simple and plain web page, with a white backgroung that is presented without any kind of picture or image on it.
In this web page we will find a big black title, Fairy Tales, and uder it we have seven different links that will take us to other places. The first four links that we have lead us to four similar pages, containing each one a story written by Mike Benedetti. This pages have been exactly equal designed. The four link/stories are called: Melchior, Errands, The Monkeys and The wedding. I have detected a mistake in the Errands story, because if you click on it, you have the right story but the title is The Monkeys again.
First of all, clicking on the Melchior link, we can see a big black title, with just the same form and writing that in the first page. We have a link at the beginning, showing us that this text is recorded as part of Stale Urine's Renal Suite. If we click on this link it leads us to a page with a green, in relief background, surrounding a pink window in which we can see three songs that are probably texts where the story Melchior appeared for the first time. In this window appear names of people that next to Benedetti contributed to those songs.
Going back to the Melchior page, we have a simple text, with a lot of dialogues, but with a normal white background. This is the whole page:
Mike Benedetti's Fairy Tale, June 1995:
Melchior
Recorded as part of Stale Urine's Renal Suite.Once upon a time, there lived a young peasant girl named Maria. She was quite beautiful, and so her father sent her to the prince of the land, hoping that he would become entranced by her and make her his wife.
The prince looked at her and said, "Yes, she is quite a beauty, but she's a bit tall." And so the prince cut two inches off the bottoms of her feet.
And the prince looked at her and said, "Better, but a little too short." So he nailed one inch wooden blocks to the bottoms of her feet. And she was just right.
Again, the prince looked at her and said, "The shoulders are a bit too wide." And so he cut off her arms. The prince was pleased, but he desired a bride with arms, so he took her to a blacksmith and had him join two pokers to her shoulders.
"Excellent," judged the prince, "but her hair should be trimmed." And so he cut off her head. "But now she has to lips to kiss, no eyes to treasure," he mourned. And so he had the head of a pig sewn on her neck.
"Perfect," said the prince. But by now, she was dead.
Maria's father got word of what had happened to her, and was struck blind in his rage. He called his three sons to him and said, "The prince has killed your sister. You must take revenge for this."
Luca, the oldest son, set out for the castle with a scythe in one hand and a skin of water in the other.
"My lord," he said to the prince, "I bring you a skin of our finest wine." As the prince sampled the water, Luca lopped off his head. The prince's guards fell upon Luca and cut him to pieces.
When the king heard of his son's death, he was deeply saddened. He sent his men to the home of Maria's father, where they killed everyone but the youngest brother, Melchior, who was passed out drunk in the fields.
When Melchior awoke and returned home he was horrified to find that his home had been burned and his family had been slaughtered. He fled to the woods and hid in a tree.
When he awoke the next morning, he was stiff all over, and took a walk to stretch his legs. He knelt by a stream to take a drink, and a fish said to him, "Melchior, the king killed your brother Luca."
"I know," said Melchior, "I know."
"Melchior," a bird said, "the king butchered your second brother, Phillip."
"I know," said Melchior, "I know."
"Melchior," a wasp said, "the king murdered your father and burned your farm."
"I know," said Melchior.
"Melchior," said a badger, "the king permitted the mutilation of your sister."
"Look," said Melchior, "if you animals are so concerned about the injustice done my family, why don't you do something about it?"
"We are of the forest and you are of the farm," they said. "Your affairs are no concern of ours."
Melchior was shamed by the animals' litany of death, and so he set out for the castle.
"I must speak to the king," Melchior told the guards at the castle gate.
"And who are you?" they asked him.
"I am Melchior, brother of Luca and Maria, murdered by his majesty."
"We shall have to consult him," they said. When they returned, they bound his hands and feet and took him to the banquet hall, where a feast had been prepared.
"Ah, he has arrived," said the king. "First we eat this glorious feast, and then I have my dessert."
The guards tied Melchior to a pillar.
Things looked grim for Melchior, but he was not concerned. He had disguised himself as a cook and had poisoned the wine for the banquet. Once the king and his guests had died, he came into the banquet hall and released himself.
Melchior helped himself to as much of the king's gold as he could carry. He travelled to a far land, where he was rich and happy till the end of his days.
You can find it here: http://www.ugcs.caltech.edu/~benedett/tales/vengeance.html
Clicking on the Errands link we go to a same structured page, without any extra images or videos, and with the same type of writing and title. The only weird thing is the mistake with the title "The Monkeys". Here is Errands story:
Mike Benedetti's Fairy Tale, September 1997:
The Monkeys
Excerpted from the dramatic work Why Don't We Know Any Wood Owl?Once upon a time there was a handsome prince without a princess. Often, when he was riding around various kingdoms running errands, a princess would ask him to tarry and woo her. Always he would say, "Maybe when I'm done with my errands," and always he would forget to return to her.
The handsome prince had a problem: he was plagued by ghosts. Little ghosts, the size of your hand, in light colors and with exaggerated facial features. The ghosts would usually come out when he was alone. They would make him angry, or sad, or wistful, and completely distract him from the situation at hand. When he met a poor beggar, or a beautiful princess, he would try to be charitable, or charming, but always his thoughts were on the last appearance of the ghosts, or on the likelihood that they would appear again soon.
And so the prince roamed the land, running errands for wise men in exchange for advice about his affliction. Usually they said something like, "If only you truly believed in yourself, then the ghosts would fade and the gate to your heart would swing open." He knew that this advice was a bunch of bologna because he believed in himself as much as he had before the hauntings began, and even on days when he felt particularly arrogant the ghosts were there.
One day he was riding through the woods when his horse tripped over an old, gray man lying in the road. The horse landed in a crumpled pile. The prince landed in the soft boughs of a fir tree. The prince dusted himself off, glanced at his now-dead horse, and went to examine the corpse of the gray man.
"Old man," said the prince, "forgive my horse's clumsiness. He did not mean to kill you."
"Don’t try to blame this on your horse," said the gray man, sitting up.
"What luck!" cried the prince.
"No luck," said the gray man. "You might be surprised at the tricks we old ones know."
"Most of the old men I've met are full of crap," said the prince.
"Are you a connoisseur of the aged?" asked the gray man.
"I have been seeking release from a curse," said the prince. "Small ghosts haunt and badger me."
"I know something of curses and remedies thereof," replied the gray man. "How did this curse come about?"
"No idea," said the prince. "I’m just bothered by packs of small ghosts, each about the size of your hand."
"There’s a trick to that," said the old man. "You have to kill a really scary monster. The ghosts will be paralyzed with fright when they see the monster. Then, when you kill the beast, its spirit will eat the ghosts."
"I’ve never seen a monster," said the prince.
The gray man stroked his beard. "I think there’s a dragon in that castle over there."
"That one?" asked the prince, pointing.
"No," said the gray man, "the one on the right. But maybe before you go kill the dragon you should visit the castle on the left and tell the king of your plans. You see, the king and I had a falling out when I refused to turn virgins into gold for him."
"You can do that?" marveled the prince.
"It’s a bloody process," explained the gray man. "Anyway, I would consider it a personal favor if you would apprise the king of the situation. When he sees that my advice worked, perhaps he will let me return to his service."
The prince agreed to this plan and went off to see the king.
The king was pleased that the prince intended to slay the meretricious dragon, but he was annoyed that the gray man was involved.
"You know," said the king, "you seem like a very intelligent young man."
"Your majesty," said the prince.
"I have this daughter," said the king, "for whom I need to find a bridegroom. Most of the noblemen around here are nitwits, and the populace has frowned upon all of my daughter’s suitors. But you, once you have slain the dragon, will have proved yourself honorable, brave, et cetera, and will be a shoo-in to receive the princess’s hand."
The prince agreed to this arrangement. In his travels he'd met plenty of princesses better than this guy's daughter, so he figured he would skip town once the dragon was dispatched. Until then, there was no sense in arguing with the king of the land.
The dragon’s castle was not far away, so the prince walked over, wielding a borrowed sword.
The dragon was out front, eviscerating a horse.
"Avast," said the prince. "I am here to kill you."
The dragon threw the horse at the prince, knocking him to the ground and trapping him beneath the carcass.
"Now we can talk," said the dragon.
"I have no words for you but steel and death," said the prince.
"I notice you brought a cloud of paralyzed ghosts with you," said the dragon. "Were they meant to be a weapon?"
"No," said the prince, "I’d hoped that your dying soul would devour them and free me from their curse."
"Just a second," said the dragon, leaping into flight and soaring away. The scaly beast soon returned with a frightened horse in its talons.
"What’s with the horse?" said the prince.
"I’m planning to spend the afternoon eviscerating stuff out here," said the dragon. "All that time, your ghosts will be paralyzed. If you ride fast, by the time I leave and they are mobile you’ll be somewhere they’ll never find you."
"A good plan," said the prince.
"By the way," said the dragon, "did you get that sword from mine enemy the king?"
"Yes," said the prince. "I was supposed to return it to him after I'd killed you."
"Then in return for my mercy I ask a favor," said the dragon. "Give me your cloak. Disguised as you I will be able to penetrate the castle’s defenses and slaughter the king and his family."
"I don’t have much choice," said the prince. "But will my cloak fit you?"
"Don’t worry. These people are a bunch of nitwits," said the dragon. "Total jerks. Killing them off will do everyone in the area a big favor."
And so the prince rode away exorcised of his demons, and the dragon eviscerated the royal family, and the old gray man was at least happy that the king was dead. And the prince hooked up with a princess in a faraway land and they lived in blissful harmony.
http://www.ugcs.caltech.edu/~benedett/tales/errands.html
Before the story we have another link which indicates us that this text was excerpted from the dramatic work Why Don't We Know Any Wood Owl? Clicking on it we discover another page with a white background and an image of two pirates carrying the skull and crossbones. Yo can find it here http://www.landlubber.com/wood_owl/.
In this page we have a whole play, and Errand story belongs to that play. We have five different links showing us the different parts of the story. At the end of the page there are all the people that have contributed to this page, including Mike Benedetti, of course:
The stage is set with two loudspeakers in attractive cabinets and one scrawny floor lamp. The lamp will provide the only light. The cast and crew sit in the first row of the audience in wooden chairs. When a chair is needed on stage, the character who needs the chair will bring a chair from the front row onstage, then return it when the scene is finished.
Our toy opera begins with the lamp turned off. The room lights should be left on
"Why Don't We Know Any Wood Owl?" was first performed in Philadelphia on September 9, 1998 at Highwire Gallery.
SYNOPSIS
In this sequel to "A Nautical Tale," UNSOUND celebrates the traditional culture of river piracy. At the root of all pirate cultures is the commitment to family. "Wood Owl" dramatizes the strains and rewards of pirate fatherhood.
1. ERRANDS
The prince, diverted from his quest by the forces of the world, evokes the winding of the River and the spirit of the Riverwoman.
2.PILLS
"In 1933 a young man ‘Z’ thought sleep a waste of time and decided to conquer his need of it. He began the experiment at 5:00 a.m. on June 5, with the help of two researchers at the New York State Psychiatric Institute."--Mi-Mi Chen, "Sleep Deprivation" (1996)
3.GHOSTS
The Land wakes from its barren sleep. The voices of the River greet the Land.
4.ECHOES
Now the voices of Land and Water come together, tentatively at first, blossoming into a spectacular climax.
5.TIPS
"‘Doctors is all swabs,’ he said; ‘and that doctor there, why, what do he know about seafaring men? I been in places hot as pitch, and mates dropping round with Yellow Jack, and the blessed land a-heaving like the sea with earthquakes--what do the doctor know of lands like that?--and I lived on rum, I tell you. It’s been meat and drink, and man and wife, to me; and if I’m not to have my rum now I’m a poor old hulk on a lee shore, my blood’ll be on you, Jim, and that Doctor swab;’ and he ran on again for a while with curses."--Robert Louis Stevenson, Treasure Island
Details on the recordings are in the individual sections. The live performers:
Heather Batson (CHORISTER, singing) is a stern, uncompromising hedonist in this sick modern world of reckless, unbridled Puritanism.
Accordionist Mike Benedetti (stage manager, DUDE) has been performing in drag since 1982, and staging original and classic drama since 1984. If you want, he can teach you how to swim.
Jessie Bennett (CHORAGOS, singing) is not the droid you’re looking for. Move along. Move along.
American-born Mike Ciul (GUY, MIKEE, music) began his musical career in England with the goth-ska-pop band Fuse Box. He has flirted with respectability: he studied composition with Curt Cacioppo and electronic music with Ellen Fishman-Johnson from 1991-95 at Haverford College. In 1996 he continued his studies at Les Ateliers UPIC in Paris under Curtis Roads (editor of Computer Music Journal) and Bennington’s Randall Neal. He then formed the unruly and childish Unsound.
James Speer (HAT MAN, music) grew up in Massachusetts. He took a degree in music theory and composition at Haverford College under the advisement of Curt Cacioppo in 1990. He has written music for CD-ROM and television. He is a member of Broadside Electric and Unsound.
Michael Stanton (writer, director) presents new work frequently with Stanton-Walsh. His next "toy opera" will chronicle the lives of Cesare Borgia, Henry Morton Stanley, and Johnny Appleseed.
http://www.landlubber.com/wood_owl/
The third one is The Monkeys, the story that I'm dealing with. It does not include any link leading to another page, and it is, like the other texts, written with mainly dialogues, which makes the narration more active and exciting. The text is the following:
Mike Benedetti's Fairy Tale, July 1999:
The Monkeys
Once upon a time, in an ancient kingdom, there was a bad situation. Each year, the king demanded that each village produce a young boy who would act like a monkey for an entire day. Different villages had different procedures for choosing the boy, but always it was a stressful and festive event.
In one little village without a name there were only fifteen people, most of them old women near death. Only two of them could be passed off as "boys": the twelve-year-old Melchior and the one-year-old William. Neither boy had any living relatives, so the old women of the village got together to decide their fates.
"This Melchior, he is a hoodlum," said Agatha. "William may yet grow up to be a good man, but Mel's a lost cause. He is deserving of the fate of a monkey."
Agnes shook her fist at Agatha and growled, "If we were not bedridden, you'd get the licking of your life. At least we know Melchior has the strength to survive to manhood. For all we know, William will die of the croup before he's two."
"This room stinks of piss, but your arguments smell worse," laughed Adriatica. "How can we humble souls presume to decide the fates of the young? The thing about fate is, it takes care of itself."
"What do you suggest, then?" asked Alberta.
Adriatica sat up halfway and addressed the throng. "Ours is not a fertile village, agriculturally or parturitively. If one of these lads is a monkey this year, the other will surely be struck down by the burden twelve months thereafter."
"A wise pronouncement," said Agnes.
"Therefore," said Adriatica, "if our village is to survive, we must stop this zoological perversion once and for all."
Silence. Adriatica spoke treason. The old women leaned closer to hear it.
"We should train one of the boys in the dark martial arts, then send him to the king as our yearly monkey. When he has the opportunity, he can slay the foul tyrant. Even if he is killed thereafter, our surviving child will never have to play the monkey."
Abattreia's voice rose with hysteria. "Dark martial arts, you say. Do you mean--ninjistsu?"
"As you say," murmured Adriatica. "After all--are you yourself not a ninja?"
"Murder!" shrieked Abbatreia. "How dare you accuse me of such knowledge?"
The others stared at Abbatreia.
Finally, Agnes broke the tension. "You're not fooling anyone, Abbatreia. We all know you are ninja."
Abbatreia stared at the floor in shame as the others fleshed out the plan.
At the time of the summer solstice, the roads to the capitol ran over with cages on wagons, each cage containing a boy acting like a monkey. The air was filled with curses and reprimands as the villagers transporting their children exhorted them to be more monkeylike, to quit sulking and eat more fruit.
Finally, as the sun reached its peak, the dozens of monkey children assembled before the king. "Excellent!" he beamed. "Do not be scared, my young subjects. Tomorrow will come soon enough, but for today--you are monkeys!"
With that, the young lads jumped and scampered about the castle, wrestling and tearing stuff up and making cool screaming noises. The king gloried in their primal natures.
One tiny lad, perhaps only 14 months old, smeared with shit (it was William, we'll find out soon enough) approached the king and bowed. "Please, monkey," the king said, "such obeisances are not required of your ilk. Run and jump! Attack me, if you must, but please, no respect!"
With that, William grabbed the king's gown and tore the jeweled trim away. "Excellent, young one!" said the king. From his crouching position, William soared ten feet in the air and landed on the kings back, garotting him with the jeweled strip. The king's men were shocked into immobility. They watched, silent with horror, as the once-great monarch sunk to his knees, a sapphire braid around his neck, a dirty toddler squeezing the fire from him.
When the king finally collapsed, William turned to the king's men. "If it is death you will deal me, do so quickly, and give me also the chance to slay some of your own number."
The men looked on the child with grave fear. "I'm not messing with any ninja baby," the head guard replied, and the others nodded their agreement.
"You are cowards," opined the child, "but you have wisdom. One day, you may be of consequence. Good luck to you in all you do." And, with the catlike speed that has characterized the ninja throughout recorded history, he was gone.
http://www.ugcs.caltech.edu/~benedett/tales/monkeys.html
The forth one is The Wedding link, which doesn't have any link either. The presentation and the background is exactly the same one more time, and we have a lot of dialogues as well.
Mike Benedetti's Fairy Tale, June 1999:
The Wedding
Once the princess was to be wed. The king was very happy because the wedding would change all the aspects of his kingship for the better.
Four days before the wedding, the wizard sent a message to the king, demanding that he be sent a maiden. Ordinarily this would be no problem, but all the maidens were needed as bridesmaids and to cook and clean for the wedding feast.
The king asked his woodsman to take care of things.
The woodsman played his flute and there emerged from the wood a she-wolf. The woodsman dressed the wolf as a maiden and told the wolf to travel to the home of the wizard without stopping for food and drink. The tasty wizard would be her reward.
After a long day's journey the hungry she-wolf arrived at the cave of the wizard. "That's a pretty strange looking maiden," said the wizard. "Looks like a wolf." The wizard caused a small deer to emerge from the wood, and the she-wolf fell upon it, staining the ground with steaming blood.
As he watched, the wizard said to himself, "This is pretty cool, but not as cool as a maiden."
The next day, the king received another message from the wizard, demanding a maiden. The king yelled at the woodsman, then asked his blacksmith to take care of things.
The blacksmith happened to have a metal woman in the back of his shop, which he had made to occupy his lusts in the days before he had a wife. The blacksmith attached a clever trap which would ensnare the wizard. Then he oiled the woman, dressed her as a maiden, and sent her to the home of the wizard.
After a long day's journey the metal woman arrived at the cave of the wizard. The wizard's assistant was alone in the cave. The assistant thought he would take advantage of this mute and awkward maiden, so he embraced her and wrestled her to the ground. Like praying hands, two metal prongs thrust from the belly of the woman into the chest of the assistant, ripping his torso as they spread in anguish.
As he watched, the wizard said to himself, "This is pretty cool, but not as cool as a maiden."
The next day, the king received a third message from the wizard, demanding a maiden. The king yelled at the blacksmith, then asked his scribe to take care of things.
The scribe took scroll and pen in hand and wrote a description of a maiden, a description so real that while reading it you might believe an actual maiden stood before you. Then he cleverly segued into a ghost story so scary that it would kill anyone who read it.
The scribe mailed the scroll to the wizard.
After a long day's journey the scroll arrived at the cave of the wizard. When the wizard read it, he did indeed have the illusion that a beautiful maiden stood before him. Then he read the ghost story, but as it turns out the ghost was an old friend, and the wizard knew that the ghost would never do any of the horrible things that happened in the story, and so the wizard was not frightened one bit. The wizard cut the scroll in two, placing the part about the maiden under his mattress, and placing the part about the ghost story in the fire, where the flames licked the edges and freed the ghost's ghost from the letters in a yellow blaze.
As he watched, the wizard said to himself, "These guys are pretty inventive. I wonder why they can't manage to send a maiden?"
The wedding day was festive. Flowers, food, and all that. The church was packed with nobles and servants and lots of maidens in cloudlike dresses.
Music filled the air, snuggling against the beams of sunlight that drifted through the windows of the church.
The Archbishop stood at the front of the church, smiling condescendingly. The king sat in his pew, smiling heartily. This would be a good wedding.
Suddenly, the stench of brimstone. The Archbishop grew pale, then turned and vomited beside the altar. And there, smelling the like insides of an Archbishop, was the wizard.
"Where is the king?" yelled the dazed wizard, looking around. The wedding guests began to yell in anger at him, and the king's guards raced forward with bright swords.
"Silence!" yelled the wizard, this time augmenting his voice with magical reverb, and burning the curtains off the walls with lightning. Everyone was quiet with terror.
"I have not received my tribute!" yelled the wizard, this time using his natural voice. "A maiden I demanded! And none did I receive! Where is the king?"
The king stood up in his pew. "Here I am!" he shouted.
"Good," said the wizard. "You have brought down this misfortune on your people, and it is good for you to witness it."
Confusion.
The wizard, quickly realizing that he'd left something out, clarified: "Since you did not give me the maiden I demanded-- four whole days ago--I claim ALL these maidens as my own."
Shock and anger.
A vast palanquin appeared in the center of the church. A shadowy figure appeared behind each maiden and shoved her into the palanquin. As soon as it was fully-loaded, the figures lifted the palanquin onto their shoulders.
"This is an outrage," said the king. "This aggression will not stand."
The wizard sneered at the king.
"Listen," said the king, "I would gladly give you all of these maidens if you would wait until after the wedding."
"I cannot bear the indignity of waiting another hour," said the wizard. "And anyway, once your daughter is wed she'll no longer be a maiden, so that's one less in the bargain."
"Pardon me," said a voice from inside the palanquin. The crowd turned to see the princess, waving her hand.
"There is one solution that I see," said the princess, "a solution that will make everyone happy, especially me. Why don't I marry the wizard? Then he won't have to wait, he'll get all the maidens, and the wedding will still go on as planned."
"We have an excellent feast planned for later," said the king to the wizard. "Plenty of beet soup, which I know is your favorite."
The wizard bashfully accepted this proposal, and the wedding went on as planned, and it was a smashing success. And despite the years of fighting between the wizard and king which followed, and the angry ex-groom who kept plotting to overthrow the kingdom, the princess lived happily every after, and that's all that really matters.
http://www.ugcs.caltech.edu/~benedett/tales/wedding.html
Those forth stories have one more thing in common. At the beginning of each page we can see a Mike Benedetti's link which leads us to a brief biography of the author. http://www.ugcs.caltech.edu/~benedett/about.html. The biography is the following:
Michael Drew Benedetti was born in Glen Dale, West Virginia. After growing up in Oklahoma and West Virginia, he spent several years in Southern California, New Jersey, New York City, and Massachusetts.
In the summer of 2006, he will be living in South Bend, Indiana, sheltering the homeless and working for peace & justice. He is a web designer and Catholic Worker.
Mike has worked as a lifeguard (and swimming instructor), short order cook (made fries for Yevgeny Yevtushenko), programmer (C and perl), technical writer, software consultant, and baker.
Mike's interests include hiking, citizen journalism, movies, beer, and the works of mercy.
He is an Eagle Scout.
Mike's e-mail address: benedett@ugcs.caltech.edu
His website: http://www.ugcs.caltech.edu/~benedett
An image of a screaming face comes with this author's life summary. At the end of the page it's shown his e-mail address and his website. If we click on his website link we have all his works, interviews, reviews and essays, etc, and an important quote for him which is:
—Daniel Pinkwater
This page includes a picture of Benedetti too.
If we click on Yevgeny Yevtushenko we are taken to the poet's biography, and to a three poems that he wrote.
On the other hand, if we click on hiking link we are taken to a page where several hikes done by Mike are shown.
Index of /~benedett/hikes
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http://www.ugcs.caltech.edu/~benedett/hikes/
If we look at the top of each Benedetti's story we can appreciate three different links: Mike Benedetti (which leads us to his web page that I showed before), content where we find this.
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Here we have all the different and varied things that Mike have done. And finally we have a link indicating Fairy Tales, which will lead us back to the seven stories written by the author.
The last two stories are included in http://www.landlubber.com/, that is shown throughout another link. In this page we have a different and pink background, with several articles.
The stories are called Captain Mikee1 and Captain Mikee2, structured in two different links, and placed in a web page with the same pink background, that from my point of view, is a common colour used in children's stories. At the end of the page appear a link which leads to the names and pictures of the ten authors that have contributed to this. http://www.landlubber.com/colophon/ you can find it here.
That is mainly the structure of the web page where The Monkeys text appear.
CONCLUSION
As a conclusion I will say that this text is not the right one for the tools analysis, but instead of that, I have tried to show all the links and features that make this page worthy of been analized. After have reading the text I have discover and learnt several interesting words, such as "bedridden", "peak", "sulking", etc. I think this is not a text to be read by children, because it is probably quite difficult to read and understand by adults.
And another positive thing after have working on this text from the tools perspective is that I have learnt to investigate on the web and click on all the links that I find to understand the whole meaning and to learn more about an author, in this case Mike Benedetti.