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Medical College Admission Test: Verbal Reasoning, Biological Sciences, Physical Sciences, Writing Sample (Page 11 )

Our sense of smell is arguably the most powerful of our five senses, but it also the most elusive. It plays a vital yet mysterious role in our lives. Olfaction is rooted in the same part of the brain that regulates such essential functions as body metabolism, reaction to stress, and appetite. But smell relates to more than physiological function: its sensations are intimately tied to memory, emotion, and sexual desire. Smell seems to lie somewhere beyond the realm of conscious thought, where, intertwined with emotion and experience, it shapes both our conscious and unconscious lives.
The peculiar intimacy of this sense may be related to certain anatomical features. Smell reaches the brain more directly than do sensations of touch, sight, or sound. When we inhale a particular odor, air containing volatile odiferous molecules is warmed and humidified as it flows over specialized bones in the nose called turbinates. As odor molecules land on the olfactory nerves, these nerves fire a message to the brain. Thus olfactory neurons render a direct path between the stimulus provided by the outside environment and the brain, allowing us to rapidly perceive odors ranging from alluring fragrances to noisome fumes.
Certain scents, such as jasmine, are almost universally appealing, while others, like hydrogen sulfide (which emits a stench reminiscent of rotten eggs), are usually considered repellent, but most odors evoke different reactions from person to person, sometimes triggering strong emotional states or resurrecting seemingly forgotten memories. Scientists surmise that the reason why we have highly personal associations with smells is related to the proximity of the olfactory and emotional centers of our brain. Although the precise connection between emotion and olfaction remains a mystery, it is clear that emotion, memory, and smell are all rooted in a part of the brain called the limbic lobe.
Even though we are not always conscious of the presence of odors, and are often unable to either articulate or remember their unique characteristics, our brains always register their existence. In fact, such a large amount of human brain tissue is devoted to smell that scientists surmise the role of this sense must be profound. Moreover, neurobiological research suggests that smell must have an important function because olfactory neurons can regenerate themselves, unlike most other nerve cells. The importance of this sense is further supported by the fact that animals experimentally denied the olfactory sense do not develop full and normal brain function.
The significance of olfaction is much clearer in animals than in human beings. Animal behavior is strongly influenced by pheromones, which are odors that induce psychological or behavioral changes and often provide a means of communicating within a species. These chemical messages, often a complex blend of compounds, are of vital importance to the insect world. Honeybees, for example, organize their societies through odor: the queen bee exudes an odor that both inhibits worker bees from laying eggs and draws drones to her when she is ready to mate. Mammals are also guided by their sense of smell. Through odors emitted by urine and scent glands, many animals maintain their territories, identify one another, signal alarm, and attract mates.
Although our olfactory acuity can't rival that of other animal species, human beings are also guided by smell. Before the advent of sophisticated laboratory techniques, physicians depended on their noses to help diagnose illness. A century ago, it was common medical knowledge that certain bacterial infections carry the musty odor of wine, that typhoid smells like baking bread, and that yellow fever smells like meat. While medical science has moved away from such subjective diagnostic methods, in everyday life we continue to rely on our sense of small, knowingly or not, to guide us.
It can be inferred from the passage that the emotional element of human olfaction would be better understood through investigation into:

Our sense of smell is arguably the most powerful of our five senses, but it also the most elusive. It plays a vital yet mysterious role in our lives. Olfaction is rooted in the same part of the brain that regulates such essential functions as body metabolism, reaction to stress, and appetite. But smell relates to more than physiological function: its sensations are intimately tied to memory, emotion, and sexual desire. Smell seems to lie somewhere beyond the realm of conscious thought, where, intertwined with emotion and experience, it shapes both our conscious and unconscious lives.
The peculiar intimacy of this sense may be related to certain anatomical features. Smell reaches the brain more directly than do sensations of touch, sight, or sound. When we inhale a particular odor, air containing volatile odiferous molecules is warmed and humidified as it flows over specialized bones in the nose called turbinates. As odor molecules land on the olfactory nerves, these nerves fire a message to the brain. Thus olfactory neurons render a direct path between the stimulus provided by the outside environment and the brain, allowing us to rapidly perceive odors ranging from alluring fragrances to noisome fumes.
Certain scents, such as jasmine, are almost universally appealing, while others, like hydrogen sulfide (which emits a stench reminiscent of rotten eggs), are usually considered repellent, but most odors evoke different reactions from person to person, sometimes triggering strong emotional states or resurrecting seemingly forgotten memories. Scientists surmise that the reason why we have highly personal associations with smells is related to the proximity of the olfactory and emotional centers of our brain. Although the precise connection between emotion and olfaction remains a mystery, it is clear that emotion, memory, and smell are all rooted in a part of the brain called the limbic lobe.
Even though we are not always conscious of the presence of odors, and are often unable to either articulate or remember their unique characteristics, our brains always register their existence. In fact, such a large amount of human brain tissue is devoted to smell that scientists surmise the role of this sense must be profound. Moreover, neurobiological research suggests that smell must have an important function because olfactory neurons can regenerate themselves, unlike most other nerve cells. The importance of this sense is further

supported by the fact that animals experimentally denied the olfactory sense do not develop full and normal brain function.
The significance of olfaction is much clearer in animals than in human beings. Animal behavior is strongly influenced by pheromones, which are odors that induce psychological or behavioral changes and often provide a means of communicating within a species. These chemical messages, often a complex blend of compounds, are of vital importance to the insect world. Honeybees, for example, organize their societies through odor: the queen bee exudes an odor that both inhibits worker bees from laying eggs and draws drones to her when she is ready to mate. Mammals are also guided by their sense of smell. Through odors emitted by urine and scent glands, many animals maintain their territories, identify one another, signal alarm, and attract mates.
Although our olfactory acuity can't rival that of other animal species, human beings are also guided by smell. Before the advent of sophisticated laboratory techniques, physicians depended on their noses to help diagnose illness. A century ago, it was common medical knowledge that certain bacterial infections carry the musty odor of wine, that typhoid smells like baking bread, and that yellow fever smells like meat. While medical science has moved away from such subjective diagnostic methods, in everyday life we continue to rely on our sense of small, knowingly or not, to guide us.
Which of the following evidence does NOT support the author's statement that smell has an important physiological function?

"Bebop lives!" cries the newest generation of jazz players. During the 1980s, musicians like Wynton Marsalis revived public interest in bebop, the speedy, angular music that first bubbled up out of Harlem in the early 1940s, changing the face of jazz. That Marsalis and others thought of themselves as celebrating and preserving a noble tradition is, in one sense, inevitable. After the excesses of experimental or "free" jazz in the 1960s and the electronic jazz-rock "fusion" of the 70s, it is hardly surprising that people should hearken back to a time when jazz was "purer," perhaps even at the apex of its development. But the recent enthusiasm for bebop is also ironic in light of the music's initial public reception.
In its infancy, during the first two decades of the 20th century, jazz was played by small groups of musicians

improvising variations on blues tunes and popular songs. Most of the musicians were unable to read music, and their improvisations were fairly rudimentary. Nevertheless, jazz attained international recognition in the 1920s. Two of the people most responsible for its rise in popularity were Louis Armstrong, the first great jazz soloist, and Fletcher Henderson, leader of the first great jazz band. Armstrong, with his buoyant personality and virtuosic technical skills, greatly expanded the creative range and importance of the soloist in jazz. Henderson, a pianist with extensive training in music theory, foresaw the orchestral possibilities of jazz played by a larger band. He wrote out arrangements of songs for his band members that preserved the spirit of jazz, while at the same time giving soloists a more structured musical background upon which to shape their solo improvisations. In the 1930s, jazz moved further into the mainstream with the advent of the Swing Era. Big bands in the Henderson mold, led by musicians like Benny Goodman, Count Basie and Duke Ellington, achieved unprecedented popularity with jazz-oriented "swing" music that was eminently danceable.
Against this musical backdrop, bebop arrived on the scene. Like other modernist movements in art and literature, bebop music represented a departure from tradition in both form and content, and was met with initial hostility. Bebop tempos were unusually fast, with the soloist often playing at double time to the backing musicians. The rhythms were tricky and complex, the melodies intricate and frequently dissonant, involving chord changes and notes not previously heard in jazz. Before bebop, jazz players had improvised on popular songs such as those produced by Tin-Pan Alley, but bebop tunes were often originals with which jazz audiences were unfamiliar.
Played mainly by small combos rather than big bands, bebop was not danceable; it demanded intellectual concentration. Soon, jazz began to lose its hold on the popular audience, which found the new music disconcerting. Compounding public alienation was the fact that bebop seemed to have arrived on the scene in a completely mature state of development, without that early phase of experimentation that typifies so many movements in the course of Western music. This was as much the result of an accident of history as anything else. The early development of bebop occurred during a three-year ban on recording in this country made necessary by the petrol and vinyl shortages of World War II). By the time the ban was lifted, and the first bebop records were made, the new music seemed to have sprung fully-formed like Athena from the forehead of Zeus. And though a small core of enthusiasts would continue to worship bebop pioneers like Charlie Parker and Dizzy Gillespie, many bebop musicians were never able to gain acceptance with any audience and went on to lead lives of obscurity and deprivation.
According to the passage, which of the following is true about the bebop music of the 1940s?

"Bebop lives!" cries the newest generation of jazz players. During the 1980s, musicians like Wynton Marsalis revived public interest in bebop, the speedy, angular music that first bubbled up out of Harlem in the early 1940s, changing the face of jazz. That Marsalis and others thought of themselves as celebrating and preserving a noble tradition is, in one sense, inevitable. After the excesses of experimental or "free" jazz in the 1960s and the electronic jazz-rock "fusion" of the 70s, it is hardly surprising that people should hearken back to a time when jazz was "purer," perhaps even at the apex of its development. But the recent enthusiasm for bebop is also ironic in light of the music's initial public reception.
In its infancy, during the first two decades of the 20th century, jazz was played by small groups of musicians improvising variations on blues tunes and popular songs. Most of the musicians were unable to read music, and their improvisations were fairly rudimentary. Nevertheless, jazz attained international recognition in the 1920s. Two of the people most responsible for its rise in popularity were Louis Armstrong, the first great jazz soloist, and Fletcher Henderson, leader of the first great jazz band. Armstrong, with his buoyant personality and virtuosic technical skills, greatly expanded the creative range and importance of the soloist in jazz. Henderson, a pianist with extensive training in music theory, foresaw the orchestral possibilities of jazz played by a larger band. He wrote out arrangements of songs for his band members that preserved the spirit of jazz, while at the same time giving soloists a more structured musical background upon which to shape their solo improvisations. In the 1930s, jazz moved further into the mainstream with the advent of the Swing Era. Big bands in the Henderson mold, led by musicians like Benny Goodman, Count Basie and Duke Ellington, achieved unprecedented popularity with jazz-oriented "swing" music that was eminently danceable.
Against this musical backdrop, bebop arrived on the scene. Like other modernist movements in art and literature, bebop music represented a departure from tradition in both form and content, and was met with initial hostility. Bebop tempos were unusually fast, with the soloist often playing at double time to the backing musicians. The rhythms were tricky and complex, the melodies intricate and frequently dissonant, involving chord changes and notes not previously heard in jazz. Before bebop, jazz players had improvised on popular songs such as those produced by Tin-Pan Alley, but bebop tunes were often originals with which jazz audiences were unfamiliar.
Played mainly by small combos rather than big bands, bebop was not danceable; it demanded intellectual concentration. Soon, jazz began to lose its hold on the popular audience, which found the new music disconcerting. Compounding public alienation was the fact that bebop seemed to have arrived on the scene in a completely mature state of development, without that early phase of experimentation that typifies so many movements in the course of Western music. This was as much the result of an accident of history as anything else. The early development of bebop occurred during a three-year ban on recording in this country made necessary by the petrol and vinyl shortages of World War II). By the time the ban was lifted, and the first bebop records were made, the new music seemed to have sprung fully-formed like Athena from the forehead of Zeus. And though a small core of enthusiasts would continue to worship bebop pioneers like Charlie Parker and Dizzy Gillespie, many bebop musicians were never able to gain acceptance with any audience and went on to lead lives of obscurity and deprivation.
According to the passage, which of the following is true about the jazz of the 1920s?

"Bebop lives!" cries the newest generation of jazz players. During the 1980s, musicians like Wynton Marsalis revived public interest in bebop, the speedy, angular music that first bubbled up out of Harlem in the early 1940s, changing the face of jazz. That Marsalis and others thought of themselves as celebrating and preserving a noble tradition is, in one sense, inevitable. After the excesses of experimental or "free" jazz in the 1960s and the electronic jazz-rock "fusion" of the 70s, it is hardly surprising that people should hearken back to a time when jazz was "purer," perhaps even at the apex of its development. But the recent enthusiasm for bebop is also ironic in light of the music's initial public reception.
In its infancy, during the first two decades of the 20th century, jazz was played by small groups of musicians improvising variations on blues tunes and popular songs. Most of the musicians were unable to read music, and their improvisations were fairly rudimentary. Nevertheless, jazz attained international recognition in the 1920s. Two of the people most responsible for its rise in popularity were Louis Armstrong, the first great jazz soloist, and Fletcher Henderson, leader of the first great jazz band. Armstrong, with his buoyant personality and virtuosic technical skills, greatly expanded the creative range and importance of the soloist in jazz. Henderson, a pianist with extensive training in music theory, foresaw the orchestral possibilities of jazz played by a larger band. He wrote out arrangements of songs for his band members that preserved the spirit of jazz, while at the same time giving soloists a more structured musical background upon which to shape their solo improvisations. In the 1930s, jazz moved further into the mainstream with the advent of the Swing Era. Big bands in the Henderson mold, led by musicians like Benny Goodman, Count Basie and Duke Ellington, achieved unprecedented popularity with jazz-oriented "swing" music that was eminently danceable.
Against this musical backdrop, bebop arrived on the scene. Like other modernist movements in art and literature, bebop music represented a departure from tradition in both form and content, and was met with initial hostility. Bebop tempos were unusually fast, with the soloist often playing at double time to the backing musicians. The rhythms were tricky and complex, the melodies intricate and frequently dissonant, involving chord changes and notes not previously heard in jazz. Before bebop, jazz players had improvised on popular songs such as those produced by Tin-Pan Alley, but bebop tunes were often originals with which jazz audiences were unfamiliar.
Played mainly by small combos rather than big bands, bebop was not danceable; it demanded intellectual concentration. Soon, jazz began to lose its hold on the popular audience, which found the new music disconcerting. Compounding public alienation was the fact that bebop seemed to have arrived on the scene in a completely mature state of development, without that early phase of experimentation that typifies so many movements in the course of Western music. This was as much the result of an accident of history as anything else. The early development of bebop occurred during a three-year ban on recording in this country made necessary by the petrol and vinyl shortages of World War II). By the time the ban was lifted, and the first bebop records were made, the new music seemed to have sprung fully-formed like Athena from the forehead of Zeus. And though a small core of enthusiasts would continue to worship bebop pioneers like Charlie Parker and Dizzy Gillespie, many bebop musicians were never able to gain acceptance with any audience and went on to lead lives of obscurity and deprivation.
Based on the information in the passage comparing bebop to other movements in the history of Western music, it is reasonable to conclude that:
I). most movements in music history passed through a stage of experimentation before reaching mature expression.
II). World War II prevented bebop from reaching a more appreciative audience.
III). bebop did not go through a developmental stage before reaching mature expression.