Detailed Instructions: In this task, you are given a text of many news articles seperated by special token "|||||". Your task is to summarize them.
Problem:It's hard to resist a satire, even when it wobbles, that insists the most unbelievable parts are the most true. If you always thought the men who run U.S. military intelligence are wack jobs, here's the farce to prove it. Michigan journalist Bob Wilton (Ewan McGregor), reporting in Iraq circa 2003, stumbles on a story that dates back to the 1980s, when the government organized a secret unit of psychic warriors devoted to achieving peace through telepathy. These men can stare a goat down till its heart stops. And that's just for starters. Watch them try to walk through walls and read the minds of their foes. 
  
 Watch Peter Travers review The Men Who Stare At Goats on "At the Movies with Peter Travers" 
  
 Bob's source is Lyn Cassady, hilariously played by George Clooney with bulging eyes that indicate a man who is not (mixed metaphor ahead) cooking with a full deck. It's Lyn, now on a black-ops mission in Kuwait involving kidnapping and terrorism, who deep-backgrounds Bob on the New Earth Army organized by alcoholic Vietnam veteran Django (a killer-good Jeff Bridges, looking like the Dude on acid). Django conducts dance classes to let his hippie-warrior monks loosen up (the wigs alone on Bridges and Clooney make the scene a hoot). The mind-meld approach to vanquishing your enemies by these so-called Jedi (loved the deadpan on Obi-wan McGregor's face when the holy name is mentioned) pisses off group infiltrator Larry Hooper (Kevin Spacey spitting sarcasm in high-comic style). It's Larry who gets New Age-y Django kicked to the curb. Are you with me? No worries. Just go with the comic flow, wrapped in striking light and shadow by wizard cinematographer Robert Elswit. 
  
 Get more news and reviews from Peter Travers on the Travers Take. 
  
 Clooney's producing partner Grant Heslov — they collaborated on the Oscar-nominated screenplay for Good Night, and Good Luck — directs his second feature (following Par 6) with a true sense of the absurd, even as references to Abu Ghraib and Guantánamo chill the blood. The script that Brit Peter Straughan, of the misbegotten How to Lose Friends and Alienate People, carves out of Jon Ronson's nonfiction bestseller jumps back and forth in time so often you may need to stare at a goat just to maintain balance. But the go-for-broke performances help make all this paranormal activity too much fun to care. ||||| Web wide crawl with initial seedlist and crawler configuration from March 2011. This uses the new HQ software for distributed crawling by Kenji Nagahashi. 
  
 What’s in the data set: 
  
  
  
 Crawl start date: 09 March, 2011 
  
 Crawl end date: 23 December, 2011 
  
 Number of captures: 2,713,676,341 
  
 Number of unique URLs: 2,273,840,159 
  
 Number of hosts: 29,032,069 
  
 The seed list for this crawl was a list of Alexa’s top 1 million web sites, retrieved close to the crawl start date. We used Heritrix (3.1.1-SNAPSHOT) crawler software and respected robots.txt directives. The scope of the crawl was not limited except for a few manually excluded sites. 
  
 However this was a somewhat experimental crawl for us, as we were using newly minted software to feed URLs to the crawlers, and we know there were some operational issues with it. For example, in many cases we may not have crawled all of the embedded and linked objects in a page since the URLs for these resources were added into queues that quickly grew bigger than the intended size of the crawl (and therefore we never got to them). We also included repeated crawls of some Argentinian government sites, so looking at results by country will be somewhat skewed. 
  
 We have made many changes to how we do these wide crawls since this particular example, but we wanted to make the data available “warts and all” for people to experiment with. We have also done some further analysis of the content. 
  
 If you would like access to this set of crawl data, please contact us at info at archive dot org and let us know who you are and what you’re hoping to do with it. We may not be able to say “yes” to all requests, since we’re just figuring out whether this is a good idea, but everyone will be considered. ||||| Can the human mind be used as a weapon of war? It would be cheaper than a pilotless drone, for one thing, though not necessarily smarter. Those who wish to pursue this exciting possibility are advised to see “The Men Who Stare at Goats,” which is based on a book by the British journalist Jon Ronson. What Ronson discovered, in his researches, was a section of the United States military that was solely and specifically tasked with mental combat. “More of this is true than you would believe,” an opening title declares. What a tease. 
  
 Our Ronson-like protagonist is an American reporter named Bob Wilton (Ewan McGregor). He works in Ann Arbor, but craves a wider beat; the craving takes him to Iraq, or, at any rate, to a Kuwaiti hotel. There he meets Lyn Cassidy (George Clooney), who claims to be one of the Jedi Warriors, men who stared at goats until they—the goats, that is, not the men—fell down dead. (“What’s a Jedi warrior?” Wilton asks. So that’s why McGregor was hired: for the sake of an in-joke.) Staring was just one of the indispensable skills that were drilled into Cassidy and his comrades, years before, by Bill Django (Jeff Bridges), who vowed, “We must become the first superpower to develop super powers.” Django was a ponytailed visionary—if that’s not a tautology—who, following an epiphany in Vietnam, founded the New Earth Army, in order to establish whether love and peace can win wars. The answer is “They can’t,” but that didn’t stop his recruits from trying to run through walls, or the government from sponsoring the program. 
  
 Most of these training sessions are viewed in flashback. The film’s director, Grant Heslov, flips constantly between the Django regime and the recent situation in Iraq, as Cassidy—who says he has been reactivated—crosses the border, with Wilton in tow, on a mission too secret to be revealed. If Heslov and his screenwriter, Peter Straughan, prefer to linger on the early days of the unit, it’s because that is where the action is, or was. Hence the quick, perfect scene in which an ambitious psychic named Hooper (Kevin Spacey) congratulates the happy couple at a wedding reception, and adds, “Sorry it doesn’t work out between you two.” 
  
 At moments like this, the movie feels rich in satisfactions. To watch actors as nimble as Bridges, Clooney, and Spacey clashing wits as if they were lightsabers is precisely the kind of fun—grownup fun, delivered by men, not kids, and lit not by special effects but by a serious love of the joust—that I demand from Hollywood and, for the most part, no longer get. Each man vies to be the most deadpan, determined to present his character, a solemn clairvoyant fruitcake, as nuttier than the rest. Clooney is probably the winner here, even turning to McGregor and wielding the famous “sparkly eyes” technique, as taught to super-spies, without a smirk. The most handsome and capable star in the world, and he doesn’t mind coming across as a total dork. It’s not fair. 
  
 It’s also not fair that the movie lets him down. Clooney gives it everything, but what does he get in return? A void where the story is meant to be. For a while, everything ambles along like a mashup of “Three Kings,” the 1999 Clooney film about the first Gulf War, and the Three Stooges, with Heslov dishing out roof tumbles, car smashes, and cheek slaps. Much of this is neatly framed—an eye poke, for some reason, is funnier in long shot—and you sit there for an hour, in good humor, waiting for the narrative to stop noodling around and get going, only to realize, to your consternation, that it’s winding down. In truth, there just isn’t enough motion here to sustain a motion picture. The material is a gift: Considering the mileage that Robin Williams got out of “military intelligence” for his radio riffs in “Good Morning, Vietnam,” you can imagine the glee with which he would have feasted on the news of psychic soldiering. As for Joseph Heller, it’s only the thought that some targets are just too pitifully easy that might have restrained his hand. In both cases, however, the Jedis would surely have supplied no more than a telling subplot, or a skit. After all, it’s not as if they ever achieved anything. 
  
 Late in the day, efforts are made to knock up a makeshift finale. In a covert facility in the desert, Wilton and Cassidy, the logic of whose actions is roughly half of that allotted to Hope and Crosby in “Road to Morocco,” stumble upon Django and other figures from the past. We get a communal acid trip—always a clear sign of a movie with nowhere to go—followed by pounding volleys of rock music, as a herd of goats, which have been shot at rather than merely stared at, are set free, together with a cluster of orange-suited enemy prisoners, who have been tortured. This sideways glance at a deeply uncomical and still potent issue is one hell of a misstep on Heslov’s part. Having urged us to take nothing seriously throughout, how can he expect us to switch, for a couple of minutes, to a thoughtful and disapproving frown? What is this, “Road to Guantánamo”? Safely back in America, Wilton pledges to “tell everybody what happened.” But that’s the problem, Bob. Nothing did. 
  
 Please make sure, when you buy a ticket for “Precious: Based on the Novel ‘Push’ by Sapphire,” to pronounce the title in full. I know you will. There was a plan to call it “Push,” until another movie got there first. But why not call the new one “Precious,” and leave it at that? After all, Deborah Kerr didn’t star in “The Innocents: Based on the Novella ‘The Turn of the Screw’ by Henry James,” and Dustin Hoffman didn’t star in “Rain Man: Based on the Overwhelming Desire to Win an Academy Award by Dustin Hoffman,” so why the change in rubric? |||||
Solution:
The Men Who Stare at Goats, a farce loosely based on a non-fiction book about the US military's '80s effort to form a psychic unit, is wildly uneven but often hilarious, say critics. The "over-the-top, absurdist satire" will be "inevitably likened to Dr. Strangelove," Owen Gleiberman writes at Entertainment Weekly, "though a better comparison might be the fractious, madcap-incoherent film version of Catch-22." Stars George Clooney, in one of his best performances, Jeff Bridges, and Kevin Spacey give it their all, writes Anthony Lane at the New Yorker, but "there just isn’t enough motion here to sustain a motion picture." The movie "jumps back and forth in time so often you may need to stare at a goat just to maintain balance, Peter Travers writes at Rolling Stone. "But the go-for-broke performances help make all this paranormal activity too much fun to care."