Teacher:In this task, you are given a text of many news articles seperated by special token "|||||". Your task is to summarize them.
Teacher: Now, understand the problem? Solve this instance: WARCZone is a collection of outsider-uploaded WARCs, which are contributed to the Internet Archive but may or may not be ingested into the Wayback Machine. They are being kept in this location for reference and clarity for the Wayback Team, while also being accessible to the general public who are seeking any particular items they can regarding certain websites. ||||| Well, it finally happened. The man behind the incredibly popular, fake Twitter @MayorEmanuel has drawn back the curtain and shown himself. After months of anxious speculation, a lengthy profile in The Atlantic has revealed the writer to be Dan Sinker, a professor and the founder of the influential punk rock zine Punk Planet. 
  
 The feed purported to be Rahm Emanuel’s profanity-laced thoughts as he traversed the Chicago campaign trail and finished up as the actual Emanuel became the “Mayor Emanuel” and, in the fictional world of the Twitter, MayorEmanuel vanished into a time vortex (seriously). The feed became an enormous hit, gaining tons of followers, interacting with real life political figures, and inspiring the real Rahm Emanuel to offer a hefty sum for the Sinker’s identity. 
  
 In the profile, Sinker explains the difficulty he had in maintaining his secret double life. From The Atlantic: 
  
 “What’s stunning is that Sinker managed to preside over @MayorEmanuel without ever getting caught. Or at least outed. His secret was known only by his wife, a small circle of friends, and one Chicago Public Schools teacher, Seth Lavin, who figured out Sinker’s identity when Sinker used his personal bit.ly account to shorten a link that @MayorEmanuel later tweeted. Lavin kept it mum. Others came close to identifying him, Sinker said. An intern at the Wall Street Journal was onto him early, as was a reporter at Crain’s Chicago Business. But no one could muster any proof. As the weeks went by, the pressure began to take a toll on Sinker’s psyche. ‘The train rides became totally paranoia-inducing by the end. I would think, “Is anybody watching this? Why is that guy looking at my phone? Who is this?”‘ he said. ‘Your brain starts going a little crazy. I’m looking forward to my brain not feeling so crazy.'” 
  
 However, what’s even more interesting in the piece is the suggestion that Sinker may have stumbled upon a brand new kind of literature. As the feed evolved, it stopped being just silly non sequiturs and developed a whole universe with a continuing narrative and characters. However, when the tweets get collected and published in a printed form (as they undoubtedly will at some point), it won’t have the same effect as reading them live. As the Atlantic’s Alexis Madrigal points out, Sinker wrote stories that required the real time serialization for their full enjoyment. Pretty impressive for something that started with the tweet “fuck you right in your fucking face-hole.” 
  
 It’s an idea that has been employed a few times since the advent of Twitter. For example, a few months ago, the sitcom Community created fictional accounts for its characters and had them act out a “prequel” before this season’s premiere. But that was nothing like the sustained storytelling of the @MayorEmanuel feed. 
  
 Of course, all of that highfalutin literary stuff can be debated in the months and years to come. Right now all that’s important is we know who wrote @MayorEmanuel. His name is Dan Sinker and, in the words of his creation, he’s a fucking genius, bitches. 
  
 Have a tip we should know? tips@mediaite.com ||||| The real Rahm Emanuel offered to donate $5,000 to the charity of the anonymous tweeter's choice if the creator of the account would out himself (Update: Even now, the offer still stands). The Chicago Tribune's editorial board begged the account not to stop, saying, "The fun is just beginning," and comparing the mystery of the account's author to the "intrigue surrounding the identity of 'Anonymous,' the author of the 1996 novel 'Primary Colors,' a devastating insider take on Bill Clinton's 1992 presidential campaign." 
  
 If that seems like a lot of fuss over a Twitter account, you probably haven't been following @MayorEmanuel. The profane, brilliant stream of tweets not only may be the most entertaining feed ever created, but it pushed the boundaries of the medium, making Twitter feel less like a humble platform for updating your status and more like a place where literature could happen. Never deviating too far from the reality of the race itself, @MayorEmanuel wove deep, hilarious stories. It was next-level digital political satire and caricature, but over the months the account ran, it became much more. By the end, the stream resembled an epic, allusive ode to the city of Chicago itself, yearning and lyrical. 
  
 For weeks, journalists and insiders have urged the person behind @MayorEmanuel to reveal himself, but he (or she) demurred. Until now. After a protracted email negotiation, the author has outed himself to The Atlantic. He's receiving no compensation. 
  
 The genius behind @MayorEmanuel is Dan Sinker, who has a heart made out of Chicago and balls of punk rock. 
  
  
  
 * * * 
  
 Sinker is the founder of Punk Planet, a legendary zine that ran from 1994 until 2007. Sinker and his tiny staff put out 80 issues during that time and created a punk rock tent big enough to happily include Black Flag and the filmmaker Miranda July. Punk Planet wasn't just a music magazine. It was the distillation of a punk-rock worldview in magazine form. "Using punk's antagonist spirit as a guiding principle, Punk Planet transcended stereotypes to chronicle the progressive underground community, from thoughtful band interviews to exceptionally thorough investigative features," The Onion's AV Club wrote in its eulogy for the publication. 
  
 Sinker described the punk-rock mind-set in his introduction to a 2001 book that collected interviews from the zine. "[Punk] is about looking at the world around you and asking, 'Why are things as fucked up as they are?'" he wrote. "And then it's about looking inwards at yourself and asking, 'Why aren't I doing anything about this?'" 
  
 In some sense, the glory of @MayorEmanuel was that it exposed the dark humor that political operatives know and love, mixed with the drunken idealism that tends to drive the politicos. Politics is desperate and raw and exhausting, yet on TV it looks so polished and prim. It's a knock-down, drag-out war in which everyone has to fight in their Sunday best. @MayorEmanuel looked at that state of affairs and started cussing, not unlike what a lot of us do when we look at our politics. This take on politics would not be airbrushed, edited, or watered down. All the things public politics downplays, this feed would expand and celebrate. This feed would be festooned with anger and the drive for power and the F-word. It was the inverse of the real Emanuel campaign, or as the Tribune called it a "brilliantly imagined and unrestrained counter-script." |||||
Student:
The potty-mouthed scribe behind the hugely popular—and fake—@MayorEmanuel has outed himself after months of secrecy, reports Mediaite. A lengthy profile in The Atlantic reveals Dan Sinker to be the man behind the Twitter feed, which garnered 39,000 followers as a flamboyant, vulgar narrative of the new Chicago mayor as he campaigned, won, then—seriously—disappeared into a "time vortex." Sinker is the founder of a now-defunct punk rock zine, and his feed, writes Alex Madrigal, represents a new sort of literature. "Politics is desperate and raw and exhausting," writes Madrigal. "@MayorEmanuel looked at that state of affairs and started cussing, not unlike what a lot of us do when we look at our politics." For his part, Sinker, who told his secret only to his wife and a few friends, says he's glad to be casting off his alter ego: "The train rides became totally paranoia-inducing by the end. I would think, 'Why is that guy looking at my phone? Who is this?' Your brain starts going a little crazy. I’m looking forward to my brain not feeling so crazy.” Read the whole Atlantic article here.