# data[].attributes.headline
Spoken interaction with Chantal van Dijk

# data[].attributes.subject
Spoken interaction with Chantal van Dijk

# data[].attributes.body
https://liveadminwindesheim-my.sharepoint.com/:v:/g/personal/s1153879_student_windesheim_nl/Ea-9DhDJV1hPhJnC9zf7Uh0BLvxvkt-CybBmkbv84u5kSw

Can/do statement: I can interact with a degree of fluency and spontaneity that makes regular interaction with native speakers quite possible. I can take an active part in discussion in familiar contexts, accounting for and sustaining my views.

# data[].attributes.body
https://liveadminwindesheim.sharepoint.com/sites/O365-Canterburyproject/Gedeelde%20documenten/General/Recordings/New%20meeting-20220323_140055-Opname%20van%20vergadering.mp4?web=1

Can/do statement: I can interact with a degree of fluency and spontaneity that makes regular interaction with native speakers quite possible. I can take an active part in discussion in familiar contexts, accounting for and sustaining my views.

# data[].attributes.body
https://open.spotify.com/episode/7IVFm4085auRaIHS7N1NQl?si=e333dd928d3a42b0

Joe Rogan is a comedian and a UFC presenter, who owns his own podcast. During this podcast he invited Jordan Peterson, a psychologist and motivational speaker, to come and have a chat. During this broadcast they've spoken about a wide variety of things: climate change, communism in China, Dr. Peterson's peculiar meat-only-diet and many other things.

I enjoy these kinds of podcasts, as you can listen to them everywhere you go and wherever you are. Whether that be in your car or at the gym. It's also quite relaxing and informative when you hear two men speak about certain events and give their opinions on these types of matters.

What I liked the most about this podcast was the discussion of some controversial topics. They had a discussion about something Dr. Peterson calls the gender paradox in where he states that the new rules about pronouns and people identifying themselves as a variety of things just doesn't work. I somewhat agree with this. Don't get me wrong; I'm not against the whole movement. I just believe that the people who use the pronouns xe, ze, zim, sie, etc. are searching to find themselves, so they could belong somewhere, but it's just not the right remedy. What's going to happen when you apply this is that people are becoming confused on how to talk to you or on how to approach you, which leads to further seclusion.

Can/do statement: can understand extended speech and lectures and follow even complex lines of argument provided the topic is reasonably familiar.

# data[].attributes.attachment_link.description
Listen to this episode from The Joe Rogan Experience on Spotify. Jordan Peterson is a clinical psychologist and the author of several best-selling books, among them "12 Rules for Life: An Antidote to Chaos," and "Beyond Order: 12 More Rules for Life."

# data[].attributes.body
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rlZRtQkfK04

To enlighten myself on how to improve my predictions on certain stocks, I've watched this guide to learn more about technical analysis. Technical analysis is the analysis of a chart, through searching for certain patterns in the given data to identify trends and therefore being able to make accurate predictions.

What's been discussed in this video are the following topics:
1. Basic chart elements.
2. Volume.
3. Moving averages.
4. Trends
5. Indicators
6. Candlestick psychology.

Basic chart elements:
The narrator starts this topic by telling a brief story of the history of a candlestick chart, which was invented in the early 1600s in Japan. After that he tells about what a candlestick represents. He followed this by presenting a chart as an example and explained what the colours and wicks meant.

Volume:
He explained how the volume is the amount of shares traded in a given time period. With knowing the volume you can measure the liquidity of a stock, which could let you be aware of certain buying opportunities in that stock.

Moving averages:
You've got Simple Moving Averages (SMA) and Exponential Moving Averages (EMA).
SMA = calculation of the average price on a given timeframe.
Explanation of EMA was not discussed, as it was more complex.

Moving averages show support and resistance on a chart.

The longer the given time is the stronger the moving average is.

Trends:
Distinguishing prevailing direction.
Uptrend: Higher lows and higher highs.
Downtrend: Lower high and lower lows.

Indicators:
A complex way of representing market data. They take price information, rework/manipulate/change it, and they find new interesting ways to visualise it. These changes are all due to mathematical calculations that all have their own goal, but use the same price information.

Indicators are descriptive and not predictive. They take old data over different periods of time and they average it, calculate it, they change it and use that data and represent it in new forms, thus telling us what has happened and not what's going to happen.

RSI = Relative Strength Index.
RSI is an indicator that tells you essentially if a particular is overbought or oversold and does this by presenting a 0 to 100 scale.
100 is an overbought condition and 0 is an oversold condition. Takes 14 periods of price information to determine an RSI.

Candlestick psychology:
A candlestick chart is human emotion depicted on charts. Where prices go up, it's possible that stocks will skyrocket only to be panic sold in the end.

Can/do statement: I can understand extended speech and lectures and follow even complex lines of argument provided the topic is reasonably familiar.

# data[].attributes.attachment_link.title
Introduction to Technical Analysis for Beginners

# data[].attributes.body
https://poemuseum.org/the-masque-of-the-red-death/

The masque of the red death is a short story written by the famous author Edgar Allan Poe. It's a story that occurs during the time of the black plague, where noblemen and women had locked themselves up in a castle to be safe from the disease. However, this method was in vain as they've all succumbed to death. This story is a methaphor as the disease was displayed as an assassin/murderer who had silently killed each person in the castle during the night.

I really like the writing style of this author. How he portrays the scene in every detail gives it an ominous vibe, which complements the story itself. Edgar Allan Poe is famously known to write like this and is crowned as the godfather of gothic horror. I haven't read any other stories or books from him, but it really sound appealing to me to do so.

Can/do statement: I can understand contemporary literary prose.

# data[].attributes.attachment_link.readable_text
Hear "The Masque of the Red Death" read aloud.
The Masque of the Red Death

The "Red Death" had long devastated the country. No pestilence had been ever so fatal, or so hideous. Blood was its Avator and its seal - the redness and the horror of blood. There were sharp pains, and sudden dizziness, and then profuse bleedings at the pores, with dissolution. The scarlet stains upon the body and especially upon the face of the victim, were the pest-ban which shut him out from the aid and from the sympathy of his fellow-men. And the whole seizure, progress and termination of the disease were the incidents of half an hour.

But the Prince Prospero was happy and dauntless, and sagacious. When his dominions were half depopulated, he summoned to his presence a thousand hale and light-hearted friends from among the knights and dames of his court, and with these retired to the deep seclusion of one of his castellated abbeys. This was an extensive and magnificent structure, the creation of the prince's own eccentric yet august taste. A strong and lofty wall girdled it in. This wall had gates of iron. The courtiers, having entered, brought furnaces and massy hammers and welded the bolts. They resolved to leave means neither of ingress or egress to the sudden impulses of despair from without or of frenzy from within. The abbey was amply provisioned. With such precautions the courtiers might bid defiance to contagion. The external world could take care of itself. In the meantime it was folly to grieve, or to think. The prince had provided all the appliances of pleasure. There were buffoons, there were improvisatori, there were ballêt-dancers, there were musicians, there were cards, there was Beauty, there was wine. All these and security were within. Without was the "Red Death."

It was towards the close of the fifth or sixth month of his seclusion, and while the pestilence raged most furiously abroad, that the Prince Prospero entertained his thousand friends at a masked ball of the most unusual magnificence. It was a voluptuous scene that masquerade.

But first let me tell of the rooms in which it was held. There were seven - an imperial suite. In many palaces, however, such suites form a long and straight vista, while the folding doors slide back nearly to the walls on either hand, so that the view of the whole extent is scarcely impeded. Here the case was very different; as might have been expected from the duke's love of the bizarre. The apartments were so irregularly disposed that the vision embraced but little more than one at a time. There was a sharp turn at every twenty or thirty yards, and at each turn a novel effect. To the right and left, in the middle of each wall, a tall and narrow Gothic window looked out upon a closed corridor which pursued the windings of the suite. These windows were of stained glass whose color varied in accordance with the prevailing hue of the decorations of the chamber into which it opened. That at the eastern extremity was hung, for example, in blue - and vividly blue were its windows. The second chamber was purple in its ornaments and tapestries, and here the panes were purple. The third was green throughout, and so were the casements. The fourth was furnished and litten with orange - the fifth with white - the sixth with violet. The seventh apartment was closely shrouded in black velvet tapestries that hung all over the ceiling and down the walls, falling in heavy folds upon a carpet of the same material and hue. But, in this chamber only, the color of the windows failed to correspond with the decorations. The panes here were scarlet - a deep blood color. Now in no one of the seven apartments was there any lamp or candelabrum, amid the profusion of golden ornaments that lay scattered to and fro or depended from the roof. There was no light of any kind emanating from lamp or candle within the suite of chambers. But in the corridors that followed the suite, there stood, opposite to each window, a heavy tripod, bearing a brazier of fire that projected its rays through the tinted glass and so glaringly illumined the room. And thus were produced a multitude of gaudy and fantastic appearances. But in the western or black chamber the effect of the fire-light that streamed upon the dark hangings through the blood-tinted panes, was ghastly in the extreme, and produced so wild a look upon the countenances of those who entered, that there were few of the company bold enough to set foot within its precincts at all.

It was in this apartment, also, that there stood against the western wall, a gigantic clock of ebony. Its pendulum swung to and fro with a dull, heavy, monotonous clang; and when its minute-hand made the circuit of the face, and the hour was to be stricken, there came forth from the brazen lungs of the clock a sound which was clear and loud and deep and exceedingly musical, but of so peculiar a note and emphasis that, at each lapse of an hour, the musicians in the orchestra were constrained to pause, momently, in their performance, to harken to the sound; and thus the waltzers perforce ceased their evolutions; and there was a brief disconcert of the whole gay company; and, while the chimes of the clock yet rang, it was observed that the giddiest grew pale, and that the more aged and sedate passed their hands over their brows as if in confused reverie or meditation. But when the echoes had fully ceased, a light laughter at once pervaded the assembly; the musicians looked at each other and smiled as if at their own nervousness and folly, and made whispering vows, each to the other, that the next chiming of the clock should produce in them no similar emotion; and then, after the lapse of sixty minutes, (which embrace three thousand and six hundred seconds of the Time that flies,) there came yet another chiming of the clock, and then were the same disconcert and tremulousness and meditation as before.

But, in spite of these things, it was a gay and magnificent revel. The tastes of the duke were peculiar. He had a fine eye for colors and effects. He disregarded the decora of mere fashion. His plans were bold and fiery, and his conceptions glowed with barbaric lustre. There are some who would have thought him mad. His followers felt that he was not. It was necessary to hear and see and touch him to be sure that he was not.

He had directed, in great part, the moveable embellishments of the seven chambers, upon occasion of this great fête, and it was his own guiding taste which had given character to the costumes of the masqueraders. Be sure they were grotesque. There were much glare and glitter and piquancy and phantasm - much of what has been since seen in "Hernani." There were arabesque figures with unsuited limbs and appointments. There were delirious fancies such as the madman fashions. There was much of the beautiful, much of the wanton, much of the bizarre, something of the terrible, and not a little of that which might have excited disgust. To and fro in the seven chambers there stalked, in fact, a multitude of dreams. And these, the dreams - writhed in and about, taking hue from the rooms, and causing the wild music of the orchestra to seem as the echo of their steps. And, anon, there strikes the ebony clock which stands in the hall of the velvet. And then, momently, all is still, and all is silent save the voice of the clock. The dreams are stiff-frozen as they stand. But the echoes of the chime die away - they have endured but an instant - and a light, half-subdued laughter floats after them as they depart. And now again the music swells, and the dreams live, and writhe to and fro more merrily than ever, taking hue from the many-tinted windows through which stream the rays from the tripods. But to the chamber which lies most westwardly of the seven there are now none of the maskers who venture; for the night is waning away; and there flows a ruddier light through the blood-colored panes; and the blackness of the sable drapery appals; and to him whose foot falls upon the sable carpet, there comes from the near clock of ebony a muffled peal more solemnly emphatic than any which reaches their ears who indulge in the more remote gaieties of the other apartments.

But these other apartments were densely crowded, and in them beat feverishly the heart of life. And the revel went whirlingly on, until at length was sounded the twelfth hour upon the clock. And then the music ceased, as I have told; and the evolutions of the waltzers were quieted; and there was an uneasy cessation of all things as before. But now there were twelve strokes to be sounded by the bell of the clock; and thus it happened, perhaps, that more of thought crept, with more of time, into the meditations of the thoughtful among those who revelled. And thus, again, it happened, perhaps, that before the last echoes of the last chime had utterly sunk into silence, there were many individuals in the crowd who had found leisure to become aware of the presence of a masked figure which had arrested the attention of no single individual before. And the rumor of this new presence having spread itself whisperingly around, there arose at length from the whole company a buzz, or murmur, expressive at first of disapprobation and surprise - then, finally, of terror, of horror, and of disgust.

In an assembly of phantasms such as I have painted, it may well be supposed that no ordinary appearance could have excited such sensation. In truth the masquerade license of the night was nearly unlimited; but the figure in question had out-Heroded Herod, and gone beyond the bounds of even the prince's indefinite decorum. There are chords in the hearts of the most reckless which cannot be touched without emotion. Even with the utterly lost, to whom life and death are equally jests, there are matters of which no jest can be properly made. The whole company, indeed, seemed now deeply to feel that in the costume and bearing of the stranger neither wit nor propriety existed. The figure was tall and gaunt, and shrouded from head to foot in the habiliments of the grave. The mask which concealed the visage was made so nearly to resemble the countenance of a stiffened corpse that the closest scrutiny must have had difficulty in detecting the cheat. And yet all this might have been endured, if not approved, by the mad revellers around. But the mummer had gone so far as to assume the type of the Red Death. His vesture was dabbled in blood - and his broad brow, with all the features of the face, was besprinkled with the scarlet horror.

When the eyes of the Prince Prospero fell upon this spectral image (which with a slow and solemn movement, as if more fully to sustain its rôle, stalked to and fro among the waltzers) he was seen to be convulsed, in the first moment, with a strong shudder either of terror or distaste; but, in the next, his brow reddened with rage.

"Who dares?" he demanded hoarsely of the group that stood around him, "who dares thus to make mockery of our woes? Uncase the varlet that we may know whom we have to hang to-morrow at sunrise from the battlements. Will no one stir at my bidding? - stop him and strip him, I say, of those reddened vestures of sacrilege!"

It was in the eastern or blue chamber in which stood the Prince Prospero as he uttered these words. They rang throughout the seven rooms loudly and clearly - for the prince was a bold and robust man, and the music had become hushed at the waving of his hand.

It was in the blue room where stood the prince, with a group of pale courtiers by his side. At first, as he spoke, there was a slight rushing movement of this group in the direction of the intruder, who at the moment was also near at hand, and now, with deliberate and stately step, made closer approach to the speaker. But from a certain nameless awe with which the mad assumptions of the mummer had inspired the whole party, there were found none who put forth hand to seize him; so that, unimpeded, he passed within a yard of the prince's person; and, while the vast assembly, as if with one impulse, shrank from the centres of the rooms to the walls, he made his way uninterruptedly, but with the same solemn and measured step which had distinguished him from the first, through the blue chamber to the purple - through the purple to the green - through the green to the orange, - through this again to the white - and even thence to the violet, ere a decided movement had been made to arrest him. It was then, however, that the Prince Prospero, maddening with rage and the shame of his own momentary cowardice, rushed hurriedly through the six chambers - while none followed him on account of a deadly terror that had seized upon all. He bore aloft a drawn dagger, and had approached, in rapid impetuosity, to within three or four feet of the retreating figure, when the latter, having attained the extremity of the velvet apartment, turned suddenly round and confronted his pursuer. There was a sharp cry - and the dagger dropped gleaming upon the sable carpet, upon which instantly afterwards, fell prostrate in death the Prince Prospero. Then, summoning the wild courage of despair, a throng of the revellers at once threw themselves into the black apartment, and, seizing the mummer, whose tall figure stood erect and motionless within the shadow of the ebony clock, gasped in unutterable horror at finding the grave-cerements and corpse-like mask which they handled with so violent a rudeness, untenanted by any tangible form.

And now was acknowledged the presence of the Red Death. He had come like a thief in the night. And one by one dropped the revellers in the blood-bedewed halls of their revel, and died each in the despairing posture of his fall. And the life of the ebony clock went out with that of the last of the gay. And the flames of the tripods expired. And Darkness and Decay and the Red Death held illimitable dominion over all.
Edgar Allan Poe Published 1842 Image by Byam Shaw

# data[].attributes.attachment_link.description
Hear "The Masque of the Red Death" read aloud. The "Red Death" had long devastated the country. No pestilence had been ever so fatal, or so hideous. Blood was its Avator and its seal - the redness and the horror of blood. There were sharp pains, and sudden dizziness, and then profuse bleedings at the pores, with dissolution.

# data[].attributes.body
This book was written by Robert E. Howard, mostly known as the author of Conan, the barbarian books. The savage tales of Solomon Kane, isn't a book about one story. It's a bundle of a wide variety of stories about the man and his adventures.

Solomon Kane is a puritan swordsman from England, who's sole mission is to purge earth from evil, even though it'll cost him his own soul. Each story is different from one another, yet they all share a trait of having a supernatural twist. In one story it's about a cut-off hand able to move on its own from a dead necromancer, and in the other it's about a dead African tribe that have cursed themselves to still roam the earth. Even though the stories are quite fanciful, don't be mistaken for thinking the book's for a young audience. The stories themselves are gruesome at times and the writing style is quite profound and eloquent. That's why I've considered this book to be of high level standard.

What I really liked about the book was the two chapters of poems about the peregrinations he went on. It gave the book a bit of diversity and it was fun to read. The least favourite part of the book was the story of the woman who had to be safed from pirates in an abandoned lighthouse. I also don't remember a lot from that story anymore, so that only figures how much I paid attention to it.

As I said, the writing style is quite erudite, which sometimes makes it difficult to read. However, this didn't matter to me, because I learned a lot from it. Besides a broad expansion of my vocabulary range, I also tried to mimic the writing style in this book, which you could find back in the short story I'm currently writing.

Can/do statement: I can understand contemporary literary prose.