Traps about Inadequate Interview Questions

The Double Question: Do you like writing or you still think that Obama should've picked senator Clinton as running mate?

The Wrong Choice Question: Who do you think is today's best soccer player in the world: Michael Jordan, Roger Federer or Eric Clapton?

The "Fuzzy Word" Question: So what's up with "He-Man's" giant cougar?

The Cover the World Question: What do you think about Subjectivism in the media?

Dream Question: What would like to see in the next Jerry Springer show?

Admissions: the department which concerns to us all.

This shall be my first attempt at making some productive research regarding my topic for this semester. Illegal immigrants have always been, unfortunately, an infamous topic. Those with the penmanship and those with the power have utilized their time and efforts in developing new paradigms which will only sink the ship that this problem represents. We are only going deeper in to the trench of the sea.
The Washington Post published an article, no less than two years ago, pertaining to a bill which attempted to bar illegal immigrants from college. The Virginia representatives of the Republican Party, who nonchalantly decided to speak their minds amidst such a critical time for proficient students, also added that they feel that illegal immigrants have no right to any sort of federal funds; the real issue, among his vast ignorance, deals with admissions instead of financial aid.
I am only submerging myself into this world of injustice and yet, I could already witness a great ethical differential which dichotomizes the morally right from the morally wrong. My efforts are all focused in showing how the only opportunity that the illegal immigrants need begins at admissions.

Mr. AK87

He talked smoothly and softly about a place named Russia, AK87 did. He talked about a cold childhood and thick scarves, frozen teardrops caged by the terribly low temperatures of that northern nation. His town, with a population around the five hundred thousand, was approximately three hundred kilometers away from the great Moscow. His routine was quite plain yet quite exciting. He inhabited a classroom along with the same people that he had met back in first grade. AK87 cherished the simple life that he had back in the days of his premature universe, he lingered (sometimes) in the dimension of past memories, he smirked when he told me that instead of kicking a soccer ball, he would play around with a can – which was as useful as most of the times. He leaned forward without rocking the chair when asked about the always-molesting homesickness. Both AK87 and I knew that, there will be always a place to miss. His complexion was as dynamic as his words. Briefly and without pondering too much, he talked to me about a group of friends that he will never forget. He can only remember, for life is that step we make forward, the life he once had.
His mom walked him out of his beloved Russia; she brought him to the U.S.