In this task, you are given an article. Your task is to summarize the article in a sentence.

Ex Input:
But the sixty-minute session in which Facebook's founder was first interviewed by a journalist from Wired, then joined on stage by three mobile operators, was one big yawn, a missed opportunity.
Okay, the subject of the session - Facebook's mission to get people in the developing world online via something called internet.org - was not, on the face of it, controversial.
And Mr Zuckerberg was allowed to paint his business, in that typically happy-clappy Californian way, as motivated only by a desire to enrich more lives through an internet connection.
But there are some nagging questions to be asked about internet.org. It may sound great that mobile phone users in Kenya, for instance, are getting free internet access to sites like Wikipedia, one local Kenyan news site, BBC Swahili - and, of course, Facebook.
But who acts as the gatekeeper for this walled garden - and what about those other local news sites that aren't on the site and have to charge for access?
And what price net neutrality in Africa? A two-speed internet has just been ruled out in the United States by the Federal Communications Commission. But the laudable mission of internet.org could end up creating fast lanes for those deemed worthy by Mr Zuckerberg and his lieutenants.
Then there's the thorny question of Facebook's relationship with mobile phone operators. It was amusing to reflect that the three mobile companies represented on the stage could probably be gobbled up for breakfast by the hugely wealthy social network without a second thought.
Mobile networks are seeing their revenues threatened by messaging apps like WhatsApp, bought by Facebook a while back. Meanwhile, they are still much more heavily regulated - Deutsche Telekom's boss made a call in Barcelona for internet firms to face the same level of regulation.
But on stage the mobile operators joined in the love-in, praising Mr Zuckerberg's campaign for increasing the flow of data across their networks.
Facebook's founder was briefly asked about regulation. His answer, somewhat bizarrely for the chief executive of a major communications company, was that he did not understand the subject - "I'm not a regulator".
He kept repeating this phrase and was allowed to laugh off the very idea that regulation was anything to do with him.
The self-congratulatory session ended with little light shed on how the fractious relationship between the social network and the companies which have built the internet's infrastructure might develop.
But some time soon - just as Google has already discovered - the regulators will come knocking. Mr Zuckerberg will need to have some answers then.

Ex Output:
He's probably the single most influential figure in the world of mobile communications, so Mark Zuckerberg's appearance at the Mobile World Congress was always bound to be a hot ticket.


Ex Input:
"Le onze Septembre Francais" declared the banner headline in France's Le Monde newspaper. "A French September 11th."
But now France also has 1/11, another set of numbers etched in the annals of the terrible history of terrorism and stirring stories of people who fight back.
Nearly four million took to the streets and squares across France on Sunday 11 January for a Unity march in the wake of three days of terror that left 17 dead, and a nation saddened, stunned, and - it is hoped - strengthened in a new solidarity.
Never have so many French citizens turned out in such large numbers since the liberation of Paris from Nazi Germany in 1944.
"I'm proud of my country," reflects French journalist Nicolas Henin. "People often join protests for more jobs or higher salaries, but this wasn't for something immediate. It was for France's future."
More than a decade ago, in the wake of the shocking attacks in New York and Washington on 11 September, the slogan that sounded from many capitals was: "We're standing shoulder to shoulder."
Now there is a new version of the same refrain in the most pronounced show of solidarity since then: "Le monde se leve" (The world rises) was the Sunday morning headline in Le Journal du Dimanche.
The morning after, one word was splashed across many front pages in France - "Debout" (Standing). "The world stands with France" was the top line of the International New York Times.
Nearly 50 world leaders cleared their diaries to literally stand shoulder to shoulder again.
They marched, arms linked, along part of the route to be, and be seen to be, part of a French story of pain and resolve.
Now, more than ever, this battle is recognised as a global fight against rising extremism. But some leaders had other reasons too.
The media watchdog Reporters Without Borders condemned the presence of "predators… the leaders from countries where journalists and bloggers are systematically persecuted".
"It's shocking to see some of the leaders here," laments journalist Nicolas Henin.
But, as we stand in the midst of the densely packed, diverse, cheering, flag-waving crowd at the main gathering place of La Place de la Republique, he speaks of a "feel-good day" for millions of people who came from across France and beyond.
"I had to come too," he remarks.
It was in this very place that smaller but still significant crowds had gathered every month, for 10 months, to call for his release, and for the three other French journalists who had been held hostage by the Islamic State group in Syria.
Sunday's call for unity came in the wake of the attack on the satirical magazine Charlie Hebdo and the murder of  four legendary French cartoonists who have long wielded the sharpest of pens.
Theirs is a history of France, from the street protests of 1968, to the civil conflict in Algeria in the 1990s, to the worst terrorist attack in half a century that cost them their lives.
By Friday, a series of attacks had also claimed the lives of three policemen, four members of the Jewish community, a cleaner and a bodyguard at the magazine's offices who got caught in the line of fire.
"Terrorism is about attacking symbols," remarks the Paris-based veteran US correspondent Christopher Dickey, Foreign Editor for The Daily Beast.
"This is the real similarity between the 9/11 attacks of New York and Washington and what happened in France," he said.
Both attacks struck at the very heart of a society and its sense of self.
The dramatic collision with the tall gleaming towers of New York, symbols of US economic enterprise and ambition, was in France a bloody strike against a very French freedom of expression: the right to satirise, to provoke, to push people and propaganda from pedestals of piety and power.
In the tributes that flowed from the pencils and pens of cartoonists worldwide, Ruben Oppenheimer sketched the twin towers as two tall sharp pencils, with an airplane headed their way.
In the gruesome mathematics of murder, the attacks are decidedly different.
The al-Qaeda attacks in the US killed some 3,000 people in New York and Washington by turning aircrafts into mammoth, metal suicide bombers.
Seventeen people died in three days of terror in France unleashed by three gunmen wielding assault rifles and rocket launchers.
But day in, day out, since Wednesday's shooting at Charlie Hebdo, people I have met in the streets and squares have invoked that fateful date.
"It is our 9/11" one man declared in the Place de la Republique just hours after the Paris shooting. "It's an attack on our Republic. It's an attack on our humour."
"In very French fashion, people are exclaiming Voltaire has been murdered," said one of France's leading journalists Christine Ockrent in a reference to the French philosopher and satirist of the 18th century, who deployed his sharp wit against the intolerance, religious dogma, and politics of his day.
"But our democracies must face the fact that it is no longer 9/11," she reflects. "A far different war is taking shape in so many countries."
9/11 was a sudden jolt from outside. France's moment emerged from within, as it has in other Western capitals from London to Ottawa to Sydney.
It shocked but it did not surprise.
In France, a country with the largest Muslim and Jewish populations of Europe, there have been growing strains and recurrent violence.
In a nation where many immigrants adhere to the Muslim faith, there has been growing anger and estrangement fuelled by economic disparities, and a polarising debate over values and freedoms.
The burning question now is what percentage of France's Muslim population shares the extremist ideology of the three gunmen who carried out these latest attacks and created a massive security operation on an unprecedented scale.
At Sunday's rally I met countless Muslims from across France and beyond, who condemned extremism and expressed fears of a possible backlash.
"I didn't like the Charlie Hebdo cartoons," said one man of the irreverent drawings which some saw as insensitive and sensational.
"But that's the cartoonists' business, not mine," he added. "They never killed anyone."
9/11 has another echo in France where many believe it was not the event itself but the reaction to it that has helped fuel mounting militancy.
"Its reaction was the Patriot Act, the Iraq war, Guantanamo Bay, repression, aggression and paranoia," wrote prominent French analyst Dominique Moise who is a senior adviser at the French Institute of International Affairs.
"The modern history of the United States falls into two periods, "before 9/11" and "after 9/11," he said.
"In the history of France, there will be also be a before… and after."
Now France has its 1/11, a day when the people of France made a statement, and made history.
Now its politicians and intelligence services have an even greater task of reconciling much vaunted freedoms with greater vigilance.
Will it still be fractious politics as usual, with the far-right, anti-immigration National Front (FN) party of Marine Le Pen gaining in popularity?
Will there still be what Jewish leaders say is about three anti-Semitic acts a day? Other communities complain of everyday racism.
"We need to stand up for more than a day," remarked one man who told me he came to La Place de La Republique because he felt "lost" after the attacks.
"We need to stand together for a long time to come."

Ex Output:
In France, many reached for the phrase recognised by all - 9/11.


Ex Input:
He was giving evidence at the start of the trial of west Belfast man Christopher O'Neill, who denies murdering his baby daughter Cárágh .
Three-month-old Cárágh Walsh died on 7 February 2014.
She died two days after being rushed to hospital from her Glasveigh Park home in Twinbrook.
Mr O'Neill, 26, from Whiterock Road appeared at Craigavon Crown Court, sitting in Armagh, on Tuesday.
The court heard that the baby had been left alone in her father's care but within half an hour or so Mr O'Neill made a 999 call for help because she had stopped breathing.
Later, the rapid response paramedic revealed that he was just moments away when the 999 call came in and on arriving found a "distressed and agitated" O'Neill outside.
Under cross-examination the medic accepted it had been 'upsetting' and that Mr O'Neill was in an 'extremely distressed state', such as any father worried about an injured child would be.  The medic also accepted that despite working on the infant for sometime, he noticed nothing unusual about her appearance, or of her being cut or bruised in any way.
The prosecution barrister said that O'Neill claimed, on differing occasions, he had just lifted the 14-week-old and shook her in an attempt to revive her.
However the prosecution said her condition deteriorated and she later died.
He also revealed that subsequent post-mortem investigations revealed that the infant not only suffered brain injury, but also had a number of fractured limbs and bruises.
They were not consistent with limited shaking, but were more akin to swinging by the arms and legs and with impacts on the child's head.
"The version of events, as put forward by Mr O'Neill, does not constitute a plausible cause of the injuries which Caragh received," said the lawyer.
He concluded by telling the jury it was not suggested that Mr O'Neill intended to kill his baby daughter, but that being unable to quieten her, he "must have lost self-control and that he caused those catalogue of injuries identified by the pathologists".
The trial, expected to last up to three weeks, continues on Wednesday.

Ex Output:

A paramedic with over 30 years experience broke down in court as he described finding a baby girl with the "glazed look of a child not breathing".


