Notice bibliographique
Résumé
Untitled Nalo Hopkinson (bio) Deedle, deedle dumpling, my son John, Went to sleep with his britches on. One shoe off and one shoe on, Deedle, deedle dumpling, my son John. "Not another word," said the policeman. "But I did do it—" He frowned at me. "Hush, girl," he hissed. His constable snickered from over by my vanity table, where he was going through the drawers one by one. I stopped my tongue, biting on the urge to get it all out, to spit the words out. Get this play started. Officer Stewart sighed and shifted a little on his feet. He was a tall, thickening white man who carried himself in his uniform with the loose ease of a man who knows he can trust his muscles. "You don't tell us a thing more until you have a lawyer. Do you understand me?" "But I want you to know—" His face reddened. "Christ on a crutch!" He had tattle-tale skin. "Don't you hear me telling you to hold your tongue?" He would have jowls in another few years, and more of a belly. But if he remained well, he'd always be strong. "Yes, sir. I hear you." I sat myself down on one arm of the sofa, but remembered I was dressed womanish today. I turned and perched proper on the sofa seat instead. "Don't you know," said Officer Stewart, "that murder's a hanging crime in Toronto?" "Did you ever play hockey?" I asked him. "Or box in the ring, maybe? You have the stance of an athlete." Officer Stewart and his constable exchanged a look. "No, I'm not insane," I told them. "And I know what I'm facing. Shall I come with you, then?" "Yes," said the officer. "I'm afraid you must." "I must do a lot of things," I replied. "Sometimes they're not pleasant." I held my wrists out to him. "Will you handcuff me?" He gave me a confused look and motioned the constable over to shackle me. The iron bit cold on my left side. I gritted my teeth against it, and stood. "I'm ready." I wasn't. I never was. [End Page 715] "She's enjoying this!" said the constable with a sneer. I smiled at the constable. "I bet your profession makes your heart beat quick sometimes," I said. As does mine, I didn't say. He scowled. I measured him with my eyes, like guessing the yardage in a bolt of cheap calico. "I'd wager you crave those times," I told him. He was only a little taller than I, with neither grace nor power in his movements. True though, it was exciting. All these years trying, badly, to make myself unremarkable, and now finally I would be visible for all to see. "Come, Clara," said Officer Stewart. "I'm coming. One thing, though." "Yes?" "You're not a little boy, that's plain. And I'm not a girl." The constable tittered at that. Officer Stewart's colour went high again. "That is true," he replied, probably calmer than he felt. "I'll mind my manners." The constable said, "Not a girl." His shoulders shook from laughing. Last month I gave a solid punch to the jaw to a young white man like him who had been taunting me on the streetcar, egging his friends on to do the same. Calling me pervert for wearing men's clothing. I followed them off the car and clouted him a good one. This body might be female, but it had some mass behind it. They all left me alone after that, though they had to pull away the loudmouth, who was holding his jaw and screaming, "Nigger bitch!" at me. Nigger bitch. Woman of Niger. Niger woman. I let that one bide [slide?]. I didn't fault someone for telling the truth, or as much of the truth as they could see. But disdain, that always set my blood running high. Officer Stewart guided me through my bedroom door almost as he would a lady. He really did mean to mind his manners with me from now on. That surprised me. My...
Récupéré en direct depuis OpenAlex et désinversé. Les résumés ne sont pas conservés dans cette base de données : les index inversés représentent 8,6 Go des 9,3 Go de texte de la base, et le serveur dispose de 13 Go libres.
Comment cette classification a été obtenuedéplier
Prédiction distillée sur la base complète
Imitation des enseignantsNi prévalence calibrée, ni vérité terrain. Validation humaine à venir. Apprise à partir de 10 348 étiquettes directes de Codex et de 10 348 étiquettes directes de Gemma. Le mode candidate est l'union des têtes enseignantes seuillées; le consensus est leur intersection. Ces sorties portent le statut machine_predicted_unvalidated et ne sont ni des étiquettes humaines ni des étiquettes directes de modèles de pointe.
Scores Codex et Gemma par catégorie
| Catégorie | Codex | Gemma |
|---|---|---|
| Métarecherche | 0,000 | 0,000 |
| Méta-épidémiologie (sens strict) | 0,000 | 0,000 |
| Méta-épidémiologie (sens large) | 0,000 | 0,000 |
| Bibliométrie | 0,000 | 0,000 |
| Études des sciences et des technologies | 0,000 | 0,000 |
| Communication savante | 0,000 | 0,000 |
| Science ouverte | 0,000 | 0,000 |
| Intégrité de la recherche | 0,000 | 0,000 |
| Charge utile insuffisante (le modèle a refusé de juger) | 0,005 | 0,002 |
Scores machine (provisoires)
Les deux têtes enseignantes du modèle étudiant, lues sur ce travail. Un score ordonne la base pour la relecture; il n'affirme jamais une catégorie, et le statut de validation accompagne chaque rangée tel quel.
Scores de référence d'un modèle non mature (critères de maturité non atteints, 7 itérations). Un score ordonne; il n'affirme jamais une catégorie.
score_only:v0-immature-baseline · tel quel depuis la passe de notation : score_only signifie que le nombre peut ordonner les travaux, et qu'aucune étiquette de catégorie n'en découleClassification
machine, non validéePrédiction automatique; les deux têtes enseignantes s’accordent sur ce qui est montré ici.
Le détail, modèle par modèle et score par score, se trouve en fin de page sous « Comment cette classification a été obtenue ».