Lol intrigued I asked chatGTP if this sentence was grammatically correct and whether it made any sense. (Note: I didn’t think it was either) Here’s the answer given:
The sentence “He early ruined the samples for additional chemical tests” is grammatically incorrect and unclear logically.
Grammatical Issues:
“Early” is incorrectly placed – The adverb “early” is not typically used in this position. Instead, “too early” or “at an early stage” would be more natural.
Awkward phrasing – The sentence lacks clarity and sounds unnatural.
Logical Issues:
The intended meaning is unclear. Does it mean:
He ruined the samples too soon?
He ruined them before tests could be done?
Better Alternatives:
“He ruined the samples too early for additional chemical tests.”
“He damaged the samples before additional chemical tests could be performed.”
“He accidentally ruined the samples at an early stage, preventing further chemical tests.”
I’ve heard it said to be farming (Adam) but not so sure. His first "job seems to be naming the animals, so perhaps taxonomy would get a vote. But, it depends on what you mean by “profession.”
PROLOGUE
Almost everyone in Utah County has heard of the Lafferty boys. That’s mostly a
function of the lurid murders, of course, but the Lafferty surname had a certain
prominence in the county even before Brenda and Erica Lafferty were killed.
Watson Lafferty, the patriarch of the clan, was a chiropractor who ran a thriving
practice out of his home in downtown Provo’s historic quarter. He and his wife,
Claudine, had six boys and two girls, in whom they instilled an unusually strong
work ethic and intense devotion to the Mormon Church. The entire family was
admired for its industriousness and probity.
Allen—the youngest of the Lafferty children, now in his mid-forties—works as a
tile setter, a trade he has plied since he was a teenager. In the summer of 1984 he
was living with his twenty-four-year-old wife and baby daughter in American
Fork, a sleepy, white-bread suburb alongside the freeway that runs from Provo to
Salt Lake City. Brenda, his spouse, was a onetime beauty queen recognized
around town from her tenure as the anchor of a newsmagazine program on
channel 11, the local PBS affiliate. Although she had abandoned her nascent
broadcasting career to marry Allen and start a family, Brenda had lost none of
the exuberance that had endeared her to television viewers. Warm and outgoing,
she’d made a lasting impression.
On the morning of July 24, 1984, Allen left their small duplex apartment before
the sun was up and drove eighty miles up the interstate to work at a construction
site east of Ogden. During his lunch break he phoned Brenda, who chatted with
him for a minute before putting their fifteen-month-old daughter, Erica, on the
line. Erica gurgled a few words of baby talk; then Brenda told her husband
everything was fine and said good-bye.
Allen arrived home around eight that evening, tired from the long workday. He
walked up to the front door and was surprised to find it locked; they almost
never locked their doors. He used his key to enter, and then was surprised again
by the baseball game blaring from the television in the living room. Neither he
nor Brenda liked baseball—they never watched it. After he’d turned off the TV,
the apartment seemed preternaturally quiet to him, as though nobody was home.
Allen figured Brenda had taken the baby and gone out. “I turned to go and see if
maybe she was at the neighbors’,” he explained later, “and I noticed some blood
near the door on a light switch.” And then he saw Brenda in the kitchen,
sprawled on the floor in a lake of blood.
I’m going to vote for hunting, and harvesting wild edibles.
Oh – in that prostitution image it says “have your own pimp”; that reminded me of a story where it was mentioned that prostitutes (1) had a union and (2) organized their own “stables” and (3) hired their own managers. Not even unregistered prostitutes had pimps; the latter “profession” being classed as coercing involuntary servitude, for which the penalty was death by hanging. It was an interesting aside in a discussion of economics by two characters.
Well, maybe not king, and prophet maybe, but being a priest qualifies as a profession – especially in Babylon and Egypt where they were responsible for tracking the seasons and the weather so they were astronomers and meteorologists on a simple level.
I asked: Might one consider prophet, priest, and king as professions?
ChatGPT said:
Yes, one could consider prophet, priest, and king as professions, especially in historical, religious, or symbolic contexts. Each role represents a distinct vocation with specific duties:
Prophet: A person regarded as an inspired teacher or proclaimer of the will of a deity, often serving as a moral or spiritual guide.
Priest: A religious official authorized to perform sacred rituals, mediate between the divine and the people, and provide spiritual leadership.
King: A sovereign ruler of a nation or territory, responsible for governance, leadership, and the well-being of the people.
While not always professions in the modern sense (with formal training or payment structures), they are certainly life-defining roles with societal expectations and responsibilities.
++++++
BTW: The boys down at the bar agree: “Prostitution is the oldest profession” and “Relic forgery is the second oldest profession” is a cute way to slander or libel “shroudies”. And the point of my post–which nobody seems to have noticed–is that “the oldest and the second oldest professions” are more common and, IMO, respectable enough to sit in churches, alongside prostitutes and relic forgers. More over, the point of my reference to “Under The Banner Of Heaven” was that even Mormons have, historically, been up to their necks in fraud, murder, and “shenanigans” since Joseph Smith claimed he saw the Heavenly Father and Jesus in “the Sacred Grove” in western New York [1820] (Source: First Vision.)
And finally, since about 1990, I have been an avid, non-certified, unpaid genealogist–a key aspect of which has been collecting pictures of and “relics” owned by my kin. And I’ve never forged nor faked any of them.
While I have your attention, in An instructive inter-laboratory comparison: The 1988 radiocarbon dating of the Shroud of Turin I read this: In the report published in Nature, Damon et al. (1989) stated that their results, “…yield a calibrated calendar age range with at least 95% confidence for the linen of the Shroud of Turin of CE 1260–1390 (rounded down/up to the nearest 10 yr.).”
Obviously, even to me, “95% confidence” does not equal “100% confidence”; but would you consider 95% confidence kind of close to 100% confidence or not kind of close at all?
I never paid much attention in the lectures on statistics, but if anything like medical research, that is pretty good, In studies, it is often expressed as a p value, with a P value of 0.05 being significant, and meaning the true result is 95% likely to be within those parameters, and not due to chance. Nothing is 100%
So I would interpret that as saying the results are 95% likely to between those dates.
and reading that article, I am still pretty bored by that stuff.