List of top Verbal Ability & Reading Comprehension (VARC) Questions

Analyze the following passage and provide appropriate answers for the questions that follow.

The ways by which you may get money almost without exception lead downwards. To have done anything by which you earned money merely is to have been truly idle or worse. If the laborer gets no more than the wages which his employer pays him, he is cheated, he cheats himself. If you would get money as a writer or lecturer, you must be popular, which is to go down perpendicularly. Those services which the community will most readily pay for, it is most disagreeable to render. You are paid for being something less than a man. The State does not commonly reward a genius any more wisely. Even the poet laureate would rather not have to celebrate the accidents of royalty. He must be bribed with a pipe of wine; and perhaps another poet is called away from his muse to gauge that very pipe. The aim of the laborer should be, not to get his living, to get “a good job,” but to perform well a certain work; and even in a pecuniary sense, it would be economy for a town to pay its laborers so well that they would not feel that they were working for low ends, for a livelihood merely, but for scientific, or even moral ends. Do not hire a man who does your work for money, but him who does it for love of it.

The community has no bribe that will tempt a wise man. You may raise money enough to tunnel a mountain, but you cannot raise money enough to hire a man who is minding his own business. An efficient and valuable man does what he can, whether the community pays him for it or not. The inefficient offer their inefficiency to the highest bidder, and are forever expecting to be put into office. One would suppose that they were rarely disappointed. God gave the righteous man a certificate entitling him to food and raiment, but the unrighteous man found a facsimile of the same in God’s coffers, and appropriated it, and obtained food and raiment like the former. It is one of the most extensive systems of counterfeiting that the world has seen. I did not know that mankind was suffering for want of gold. I have seen a little of it. I know that it is very malleable, but not so malleable as wit. A grain of gold will gild a great surface, but not so much as a grain of wisdom.
Analyze the following passage and provide appropriate answers for the questions that follow.

Ideas involving the theory of probability play a decisive part in modern physics. Yet we still lack a satisfactory, consistent definition of probability; or, what amounts to much the same, we still lack a satisfactory axiomatic system for the calculus of probability. The relations between probability and experience are also still in need of clarification. In investigating this problem we shall discover what will at first seem an almost insuperable objection to my methodological views. For although probability statements play such a vitally important role in empirical science, they turn out to be in principle impervious to strict falsification. Yet this very stumbling block will become a touchstone upon which to test my theory, in order to find out what it is worth.

Thus, we are confronted with two tasks. The first is to provide new foundations for the calculus of probability. This I shall try to do by developing the theory of probability as a frequency theory, along the lines followed by Richard von Mises. But without the use of what he calls the "axiom of convergence" (or "limit axiom") and with a somewhat weakened "axiom of randomness".

The second task is to elucidate the relations between probability and experience. This means solving what I call the problem of decidability statements. My hope is that the investigations will help to relieve the present unsatisfactory situation in which physicists make much use of probabilities without being able to say, consistently, what they mean by "probability".
Analyze the following passage and provide appropriate answers for the questions that follow.

The assumption of rationality puts an economist in a position to “explain” some features of market behavior, such as the dispersion of prices of psychophysically identical goods such as beer according to the amount spent on advertising them (no doubt, the fact that most beer is bought by individuals rather than as raw material by firms, which could be expected to be more rational than individuals, is part of the explanation.) Clearly something is wrong somewhere with the usual model of a competitive market with perfect information, for the virtually contentless advertising cannot be considered as increasing the utility of beer in an obvious way. But if one can keep the assumption of rational actors, one need not get into the intellectual swamp of sentiment nor of preferences that depend on price. If one agrees, for example, that consumers use advertising as an index of the effort a producer will put into protecting its reputation and so as a predictor of quality control efforts, one can combine it with the standard mechanism and derive testable consequences from it.

But why, logically speaking, does it not matter that any of us, with a few years’ training, could disprove the assumptions? It is for the same reason that the statistical mechanics of gases is not undermined when Rutherford teaches a lot of only moderately bright physicists to use X-ray diffraction to disprove the assumption that molecules are little hard elastic balls. The point is, departures that Rutherford teaches us to find from the mechanism built into statistical mechanics are small and hardly ever systematic at the level of gases. Ignorance and error about the quality of beer is also unlikely to be systematic at the level of the consumers’ beer market, though it would become systematic if buyers imposed quality control procedures on sellers in contracts of sale (as corporations very often do in their contracts with suppliers). So when we find beers that advertising can make the ignorance and error systematic at the level of markets, just as lasers with wavelengths resonant with the internal structures and sizes of molecules can make molecular motions in gases systematic. The interesting one is that virtually contentless advertising is nevertheless information to a rational actor.

I reported on the Iraq invasion as a “unilateral” journalist, which meant I rented an SUV from Hertz in Kuwait and sneaked across the border with the first US tanks. I wound up in Baghdad on April 9, 2003, and watched the Marines tear down the iconic statue of Saddam Hussein at Firdos Square. I returned to Iraq on several occasions to work on lengthy stories about the dismal turn of events as the occupation turned into a war of Americans against Iraqis, and Iraqis against Iraqis. The carnage, though heartbreaking, was almost the least shocking experience of my journeys between war in the Mideast and my home in New York City.
While Americans killed and got killed in Iraq, Americans back home shopped at Walmart and watched reality television. I had covered a lot of wars and thought I had grown accustomed to peaceful countries being unconcerned by other people’s quarrels. My unsentimental education had begun in the 1990s in Bosnia where I often had a Matrix-like experience. In the morning, I would wake up in Sarajevo or another cursed town that was blasted by bombs, frozen by winter and deprived of food. I would then begin my effort to get the hell out of hell. I would hope for a seat on what was known as Maybe Airlines. These were the UN relief flights that brought food into besieged Sarajevo. Maybe the shelling would be light enough for flights to land and take off, maybe not. If the flights were grounded, I could try to escape by driving along Sniper Alley and through a creepy no man’s land that constituted the only border that mattered in a nation cut and quartered by war. Distances are small in Europe. By the afternoon, I could be in Vienna or Budapest or London, enjoying the comfortable life that Europe offered many of its citizens: hot showers, good food, clean sheets, the certainty that I would not be killed by a mortar as I slept. I had a hard time believing these altered states existed in such close proximity. The contented Europeans eating apple strudel or shopping at Harrods on those 1990s afternoons– didn’t they realize war was being fought in their backyard? The answer was that they knew and didn’t care. Proximity isn’t destiny. Bosnia though close, wasn’t their home. Other people were killing and dying, not their people.
I had understood only half of it and learned the other half a decade later, on my return to America after sojourns in Iraq. Outside the tight-knit community of military families who cared deeply about the wars, nearly everyone in America went about his or her life as though Iraq and Afghanistan didn’t matter much. Nor had Americans been asked to change their way of life. It had become possible, I realized, for a nation to be at war without suffering the inconveniences associated with war– including the inconvenience of thinking about it.
World War II was a classic war in the sense of rationing, of drives for war bonds, of a draft the elite could not avoid with college deferments and of a ceaseless drumbeat in almost every sector of society that a great conflict was being fought that required great sacrifices of everyone. Even for families spared the loss of a loved one overseas, World War II was a visible– intentionally visible– aspect of life in the homeland; the nation’s leaders made it so. Life as it was before the war had to be suspended

In the 1980s there was a proliferation of poetry collections, short stories, and novels published by women of Latin American descent in the United States. By the end of the decade, another genre of U.S. Latina writing, the autobiography, also came into prominence with the publication of three notable autobiographical collections: Loving in the War Years: Lo Que Nunca Pasó Por Sus Labios, by Cherríe Moraga; Getting Home Alive, by Aurora Levins Morales and Rosario Morales; and Borderlands/ La Frontera, by Gloria Anzaldúa.
These collections are innovative at many levels. They confront traditional linguistic boundaries by using a mix of English and Spanish, and they each address the politics of multiple cultural identities by exploring the interrelationships among such factors as ethnicity, gender, and language. This effort manifests itself in the generically mixed structure of these works, which combine essays, sketches, short stories, poems, and journal entries without, for the most part, giving preference to any of these modes of presentation.br> In Borderlands/La Frontera, Anzaldúa presents her personal history and the history of the Mexican American community to which she belongs by juxtaposing narrative sequences and poetry. Moraga’s Loving in the War Years is likewise characterized by a mixture of genres, and, as she states in her introduction, the events in her life story are not arranged chronologically, but rather in terms of her political development. According to one literary critic who specializes in the genre of autobiography, this departure from chronological ordering represents an important difference between autobiographies written by women and those traditionally written by men. Getting Home Alive departs even further from the conventions typical of autobiography by bringing together the voices of two people, a mother and her daughter, each of whom authors a portion of the text. The narratives and poems of each author are not assigned to separate sections of the text, but rather are woven together, with a piece by one sometimes commenting on a piece by the other. While this ordering may seem fragmentary and confusing, it is in fact a fully intentional and carefully designed experiment with literary structure. In a sense, this mixing of structures parallels the content of these autobiographies: the writers employ multigeneric and multivocal forms to express the complexities inherent in the formation of their identities.

In the first scene of “Hitchcock Loves Bikinis”, a young mum is playing happily with her baby. Next comes a close-up shot of Alfred Hitchcock, the late movie director, smiling. Clearly, he is a man whose heart is warmed by this sweet glimpse of maternal love. In the next scene, we see a bikini-clad woman sunbathing followed by exactly the same shot of Hitchcock smiling. Instead of a benign grandfatherly figure, this time we see a lecherous old man. The moral of the story is simple: context is everything.
Mr. Kagan’s effort, “Psychology’s Ghosts,” consists of his assessment of four problems in psychological theory and clinical practice. The first problem is laid out in the chapter “Missing Contexts”: the fact that many researchers fail to consider that their measurements of brains, behaviour and self-reported experience are profoundly influenced by their subjects’ culture, time and experience, as well as by the situation in which the research is conducted. In his second essay, “Happiness Ascendant”, Mr. Kagan virtually demolishes the popular academic effort to measure “subjective well-being”, let alone to measure and compare the level of happiness of entire nations. No psychologist, he observes, would accept as reliable your own answer to the question: “How good is your memory?” Whether your answer is “great” or “terrible”, you have no way of knowing whether your memory of good or bad memories is accurate. But psychologists, Mr. Kagan argues, are willing to accept people’s answers to how happy they are as if “it is an accurate measure of a psychological state whose definition remains fuzzy.”
In the third and fourth essays, “Who Is Mentally Ill?” and “Helping the Mentally Ill”, Mr. Kagan turns to the intransigent problems of psychiatric diagnosis and treatment. The Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders (DSM) “regards every intense bout of sadness or worry, no matter what their origin, as a possible sign of mental disorder.” Mr. Kagan laments. But “most of these illness categories are analogous to complaints of headaches or cramps. Physicians can decide on the best treatment for a headache only after they have determined its cause. The symptom alone is an insufficient guide.”
Nonetheless, the DSM is primarily a collection of symptoms, overlooking the context in which a symptom such as anxiety or low sexual desire occurs and what it means to an individual. It might mean nothing at all. What it means to an American might mean nothing to a Japanese. The same one-size-fits-all approach plagues treatment: “Most drugs can be likened to a blow on the head,” Mr. Kagan observes, they are blunt instruments, not precisely-tailored remedies. Psychotherapy depends largely on the clients’ belief that it will be helpful, which is why all therapies help some people and some people are not helped by any. No experience affects everyone equally — including natural disasters, abuse, having a cruel parent, losing a job or having an illicit affair — though many therapists wish us to believe the opposite