TEXT A "I’m SORRY. "For days that’s been about all Japan has heard from its Olympic athletes. Those were the first words uttered by a young swimmer after competing in the 400-m individual-medley swimming event, a difficult exercise that takes more than 4 1/2 minutes to complete and requires four different strokes. Because her event took place on the opening day of Sydney 2000, her performance was considered especially significant for the fortunes of the nation. But with all of Japan watching, Yasuko Tajima fell short. Never mind that she earned a silver medal. "How disappointing," she said. "Next time I will win the gold." There is a unique form of pressure on Japan’s athletes. Competitors from every country face enormous expectations to win , to make the years of hard work and training pay off, to achieve greatness on the preeminent world stage. American cyclist Lance Armstrong ,winner of two consecutive Tour de France races after surviving a contest with cancer, noted last week that, "If I loses the Olympics, they’ll say, ’I thought he was supposed to be a good cyclist.’" "But whereas failure to win gold might cost Americans a fat endorsement contract, for Japanese a disappointing performance is even more disastrous, as individual failure is somehow wrapped up with a sense of national identity. "For non-Japanese, it’s very peculiar for athletes to say they are sorry. "says Mitsunori Urushibara, a professor of sports philosophy at Shikoku Gakuin University. "Failure is never just an individual matter in Japan. Athletes always face the terror of being excommunicated from the group." Understanding the culture in which Japanese athletes compete makes watching their defeats all the more painful. The agony of gymnast Naoya Tsukahara, whose hopes for an individual all-around medal were dashed last Wednesday when he inexplicably fell off the pommel horse, was obvious as he seemed to sleepwalk through his other events. His body was limp, his expression blank. "I didn’t want to disgrace my nation," he said. Another young swimmer, Tomoko Hagiwara, climbed out of the pool after finishing seventh in her 200-m individual-medley qualifying heat last Monday, her shoulders hanging downward, her head tilted downward. "What was the cause of your poor performance" snapped a reporter for NHK, the national TV network. Hagiwara answered that she didn’t shift smoothly between strokes and that her turns were poor. "Please remember those points and try to do better in the next race," the reporter lectured. "You feel as ff everyone in Japan feels ashamed of you, "former Olympic swimmer Hiroko Nagasaki commented on a Fuji TV broadcast. A memory that still haunts many in Japan is that of Kokichi Tsuburaya, the marathon, runner who finished third at the 1964 Tokyo Games. Four years later, while in training for the Mexico City Olympics, Tsuburaya killed himself by cutting his wrist in his dormitory. He was found holding his bronze medal. "I remember Tsuburaya’ s comments before he committed suicide," follow marathoner Kenji Kimihara told the Nikkan Sports newspaper this year. "He said ’I committed an inexcusable mistake in front of the Japanese people. I have to beg their pardon by running and hoisting the Hinomaru [national flag] in Mexico." The media are partly responsible for the pressure, but they reflect the general attitudes of the population. And the nation’s fans don’t seem to be having much fun. Last week, hundreds of Japanese endured a horrific schedule to watch their team battle Brazil in soccer. They took a nine hour flight from Osaka to Brisbane, traveled by bus to the stadium, dutifully watched the game and left immediately for the airport for the return trip to Osaka. They were home in time for work the next morning. "They got there and acted like the cheering was compulsory," says Urushibara. "They didn’ t seem to really enjoy the game. It is work. It is what members of the group do." Sadly, even when an athlete lives up to expectations, the demanding drum-beat for victory doesn’t cease. On opening day, Tadahiro Nomura won a gold medal in judo in impressive fashion by "dropping" his opponent in just 14 seconds. It was his second Olympic victory, but Nomura had little chance to savor the moment. "What about 2004" a reporter asked seconds after his victory. No one could blame the quiet champion if he felt like folding up his judo jacket and never putting it back on again. Who is not responsible for the pressure
A. The media.
B. The Japanese culture.
C. The general attitude of the Japanese population.
D. The sportsmanship.
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TEXT E As people age, their cells become less efficient and less able replace damaged components. At the same time their tissues stiffen, For example the lungs and the heart muscle expand less successfully, the blood vessels become increasingly rigid, and the ligaments and tendons tighten. Few investigators would attribute such diverse effects to a single cause. Nevertheless, researchers have discovered that a process long known to discolor and toughen foods may also contribute to age-related impairment of both cells and tissues. That process is nonenzymatic glycosylation, whereby glucose becomes attached to proteins without the aid of enzymes. When enzymes attach glucose to proteins (enzymatic glycosylation), they do so at a specific site on a specific protein molecule for a specific purpose. In contrast, the nonenzymatic process adds glucose haphazardly to any of several sites along any available peptide chain within a protein molecule. This nonenzymatic glyeosylation of certain proteins has been understood by food chemists for decades, although few biologists recognized until recently that the same steps could take place in the body. Nonenzymatic glycosylation begins when an aldehyde group (CHO) of glucose and an amino group (HN2) of a protein are attracted to each other. The molecules combine, forming what is called a Schiff base within the protein. This combination is unstable and quickly rearranges itself into a stabler, but still reversible, substance known as an Amadori product. If a given protein persists in the body for months or years, some of its Amadori products slowly dehydrate and rearrange themselves yet again, into new glucose-derived structures. These can combine with various kinds of molecules to farm irreversible structures named advanced glycosylation end products (AGE’s). Most AGE’s are yellowish brown and fluorescent and have specific spectrographic properties. More important for the body, many are also able to cross-link adjacent proteins, particularly ones that give structure to tissues and organs. Although no one has yet satisfactorily described the origin of all such bridges between proteins, many investigators agree that extensive cross-linking of proteins probably contributes to the stiffening and loss of elasticity characteristic of aging tissues. In an attempt to link this process with the development of cataracts (the browning and clouding of the lens of the eye as people age), researchers studied the effect of glucose on solutions of purified crystallin, the major protein in the lens of the eye. Glucose-free solutions remained clear but solutions with glucose caused the proteins to form clusters, suggesting that the molecules had become cross-linked. The clusters diffracted light, making the solution opaque. The researchers also discovered that the pigmented cross-links in human cataracts have the brownish color and fluorescence characteristic of AGE’ s. These data suggest that nonenzymatic glycosylation of lens crystallins may contribute to cataract formation. According to the passage, which of the following statements is true of the process that discolors and toughens foods
A. It takes place more slowly than glycosylation in the human body.
B. It requires a higher ratio of glucose to protein than glycosylation requires in the human body.
C. It does not require the aid of enzymes to attach glucose to protein.
D. It proceeds more quickly when the food proteins have a molecular structure similar to that of crystallin proteins.
TEXT B She stood before us looking very. composed as she gave us good morning. Sabri cleared his throat, and picking up the great key very delicately between finger and thumb -- as ff it were of the utmost fragility -- put it down again on the edge of the desk nearest her with the air of a conjurer making his opening dispositions. "We are speaking about your house," he said softly, in a voice ever so faintly curdled with menace. "Do you know, that all the wood is... "he suddenly shouted the last word with such force that I nearly fell off my chair, "rotten!" And picking up the key he hanged it down to emphasise the point. The woman threw up her head with contempt and taking up the key also banged it down in her turn exclaiming:" It is not." "It is. "Sabri banged the key. "It is not. "She banged it back. "It is. "A bang. "It is not." A counter-bang. All this was certainly not on a very intellectual level, and made me rather ill at ease. I also feared that the key itself would be banged out of shape so that finally none of us would be able to get into the house. But these were the opening chords, so to speak, the preliminary statement of theme. The woman now took the key and help it up as if she were sweating by it. "The house is a good house," she cried. Then she put it back on the desk. Sabri took it up thoughtfully , blew into the end of it as ff it were a sixshooter, aimed it and peered along it as if along a barrel. Then he put it down and fell into an abstraciton. "And suppose we wanted the house. "he said," which we don’t, what would you ask for it" "Eight hundred pounds." Sabfi gave a long and stagy laugh, wiping away imaginary tears and repeating. "Eight hundred pounds" as if it were the best joke in the world. He laughed at me and I laughed at him, a dreadful false laugh. He slapped Iris knee. I rolled about in my chair as if on the verge of acute gastritis. We laughed until we were exhausted. Then we grew serious again. Sabri was still as fresh as a daisy. I could see that. He had put himself into the patient contemplative state of mind of a chess player. "Take the key and go, "he snapped suddenly, and handing it to her, swirled round in his swivel chair to present her with his back; then as suddenly he completed the circuit and swiveled round again. "What!" he said with surprise. "You haven’t gone." In truth there had hardly been time for the woman to go. But she was somewhat slow-witted, though obstinate as a mule: that was clear. "Right," she now said in a ringing tone, and picking up the key put it into her bosom and turned about. She walked off stage in a somewhat lingering fashion. "Take no notice, "whispered Sabri and busied himself with his papers. The woman stopped irresolutely outside the shop, and was here joined by her husband who began to talk to her in a low cringing voice, pleading with her. He took her by the sleeve and led her unwillingly back into the shop where we sat pointedly reading letters. "Ah! It’s you," said Sabri with well-simulated surprise. "She wishes to discuss some more," explained the cobbler in a weak conciliatory voice, Sabri sighed. "What is there to speak of She takes me for a fool." Then he suddenly turned to her and bellowed. "Two hundred pounds and not a piastre more." It was her turn to have a paroxysm of false laughter, but this was rather spoiled by her husband who started plucking at her sleeve as ff he were persuading her to be sensible. Sabri was not slow to notice this. "You tell her, "he said to the man. "You are a man and these things are clear to you. She is only a woman and does not see the truth. Tell her what it is worth !" Sabri dismissed the woman because ______.
A. he had had enough of the argument
B. he wanted to show his disgust at the suggested price
C. he wanted to give the impression that he had lost all interest in the sale
D. he wanted time to think the matter over
Caroline Hartman: Thanks for the terrific article on U2’s Bono and his efforts to save Africa from financial ruin. He’s not a saint. He is a hard-working, real man, using his gifts to inspire us in song and make a difference in the world. Some issues are so serious that most of us don’t even try to fix them. Bono can’t save the world by himself, but like others who have shown the way, such as Martin Luther King, Jr. and Mohandas Gandhi, he is proving that one man can make a difference. Molly Leuschel: Bono may be smarter, better informed and more committed than other stars, but Africa’s problems are larger than his ambition. After living in Africa nearly six years, I returned to the U.S. with more questions than answers. Debt relief is a noble idea, but most foreign aid does little to enrich the life of the average African. Amanda Adichie: I am a 24-year-old Nigerian and have often viewed stars "concern" for Africa with resentment. My reaction to Bono was different: I was impressed. He is right in recommending not only debt relief but the lowering of trade restrictions on African countries. What Africa needs is not gifts of fish but fair access to the fishing pond. Malini Ranganathan: Your story on the smartest superstar on the planet was brilliant. I felt like I was right there with him, there to nod my head in approval and to believe in the potential of his African-debt-relief campaign, there to appreciate the peculiar, stubborn, witty and human sides to a guy who seems too famous to be real. Hats off to you for capturing these features so aptly and for making Bono’s personality so real, his cause so true. Lynne Pereira: I loved your article on Bono, but why the annoying wording on your cover: "Don’t laugh — the planet’s biggest rock star is on a mission to make a difference" Who would want to laugh Bono has proved that he’s willing and able to do what plenty of world leaders can’t or won’t do: put his money where his mouth is and make a difference. Statements[A] Competition on an equal footing is vital to Africa.[B] Bono should save himself from himself.[C] One man’s power, though limited, is significant.[D] Africa’s problems are insolvable.[E] You have presented a real image of Bono.[F] Africa is faced with other issues besides debts.[G] Bono’s cause is a serious business. Amanda Adichie