sentence-transformers How to use ashercn97/av-v2 with sentence-transformers:
from sentence_transformers import SentenceTransformer
model = SentenceTransformer("ashercn97/av-v2")
sentences = [
" Hello Fellow Bloggers! This is my final attempt at starting up a blog. I always start, it lasts DATE, and then I burn out. BUT this is something I would really like to get into, maybe it will last this time. For those of you who don't know, I am a DATE country girl lost somewhere in the big city. I have adapted well though, if I must say so myself. I have been living in GPE for DATE. My mother in PERSON live here also and I have a (almost) DATE dalmatian. I have been dating the same guy for DATE, and plan on making it last forever. I am a Signing Team Manager for a local ORG store, and love hanging out with my friends... I guess thats the basics, so lets go on to TODAY! It was DATE. Can I say any more? Everything that could go wrong, Did. I didn't get CARDINAL of what I wanted to get done accomplished, and.....WHOA... I don't wanna start of complaining, if I do that I will never get anyone to read my blog. DATE was DATE. Period. Does anyone else watch the Swan? I am a Reality Show Fanatic. I can't believe these people leave there family for DATE to make a physical transformation. I recently made a rather large transformation myself, but I don't think that I could have been so successful if I didn't have my friends and family there to back me up. Not that I am knocking the show by any means... I plan to watch it...in TIME. I gotta tape wrestling too. (I am NOT a redneck) I tape it, and then ORG and I watch it when he gets off. It has become a ritual. I never watched wrestling before PERSON and I got together. What is this effect guys have on us gals? Somehow they always tend to rub off on me. Before Gene it was PERSON and Matchbox Twenty... It's just weird how that happens. I promise as time progresses my posts will be more interesting. I just gotta get back in the swing of things. 'After a while you learn the subtle difference between holding a hand and chaining a soul, and you learn that love doesn't mean leaning and company doesn't mean security, and you begin to learn that kisses aren't contracts and presents aren't promises, and you begin to accept your defeats with your head up and your eyes open, with the grace of an adult, not the grief of a child. You learn to build all your roads on DATE because DATE's ground is too uncertain for plans. After a while you learn that even sunshine burns if you get too much. So, plant your own garden and decorate your own soul, instead of waiting for someone to bring you flowers. And you learn that you really can endure... that you really are strong, and you really do have worth.' ",
" ....The day we have all been waiting for, even if it has been for different reasons. TIME is the finale' of American Idol. I have no idea who is going to win DATE? I guess we will find out in TIME! Speaking of Television... Did anyone else out there watch the season finale of DATE? What an ending! I think next to The OC, that was my favorite show of the season. ORG, I know it seems like I am some huge TV/Movie Buff because I talk about it alot, but I am not that bad, I swear! DATE was a rather unproductive day at work, which was exactly what I needed since, DATE started off to be a huge mess. We had a visit with CARDINAL of the company big-wigs and he seemed to be pleased with everything my team has accomplished. That makes me feel good. Even when DATE goes wacky...that kinda made it worth it all, know what I mean? I haven't got to talk to Gene much DATE, and I won't get to see him TIME either. Turns out his fraternity is having a rush event, so I guess it will be DATE before we get together. I miss him already! UGHHHH!!! He did call me when he was on the way to the hospital earlier. CARDINAL of our friends, PERSON is in there, with a staff infection. I hope he gets better soon. He is such a sweetie! Why? Why is it that ex-boyfriends girlfriends always feel threatened by their ex-girlfriends? It's kinda sad, because you can't even remain friends with people you have dated because their current Significant Other has issues dealing with it. WHERE IS THE TRUST PEOPLE??? Oh well! That's my random thought for DATE. Oh... I almost forgot (man this blog post is all over the place) My friend PERSON is moving back to GPE DATE. I am going to miss her like crazy! Her Mom has PERSON and is really sick, so I understand COMPETELY why she has to leave. I hope everything works out for you girlie! 'I was so high I did not recognize the fire burning in her eyes, the chaos that controlled my mind. Whispered goodbye as she got on a plane, never to return again, always in my heart....OH! This love has taken it's toll on me....' urlLink What Classic Movie Are You? urlLink personality tests by similarminds.com ",
"What about civility? Jokes or not, are they intelligent? A long time ago, actual discussion was seen in the comments section instead of, lol OP is a fag . It's like a scientist explaining life found on Uranus but the audience giggles and says, lol, youranus .",
"Napoleon swallowed somewhat uneasily. \"I won\"t forget that, Clara. Truly I won\"t.\" Now it was Clara who slowly nodded. \"And I\"ll try not to push too hard, not to tighten the knot into a stranglehold. It isn\"t easy for me, Napoleon, to accept U.N.C.L.E.\"s very prominent and highly prized position in your life, but I am trying. I really am trying.\" Napoleon answered nothing for in truth what was there to say? They understood each other and accepted the limitations the personality of each imposed on the other. He would concentrate on that positive fact, and not stress on the negative possibility that his heart\"s devotion to Clara and his soul\"s dedication to U.N.C.L.E. might never result in any sort of comfortable lovers\" knot. July 1963Antwerp, Belgium Wandering the Meir was a rather invigorating experience. So much to see at every turn. Napoleon was definitely energized by the surroundings and was thoroughly enjoying his stroll. He was on the prowl for a new set of cufflinks, something to celebrate his recent promotion to Chief of Enforcement, Number 1 in Section II of the North American division of U.N.C.L.E. His superior, Alexander Waverly, had informed him of that promotion ten days ago in New York. The Old Man, as Waverly was respectfully if mischievously called by his subordinates behind his back, had congratulated his new CEA with a handshake and a \"Well deserved, Mr. Solo\" and then promptly sent him off to Brussels on a mission. So Napoleon hadn\"t even gotten the chance to make merry with a triumphant dinner in a tony restaurant or a festive bottle of vintage champagne. His mission had concluded successfully this morning and, since his flight back to New York was not until tomorrow afternoon, Napoleon had decided to take the short train ride from Brussels to Antwerp with its bustling diamond market. He wanted the cufflinks that would serve as a reminder of this moment in his career with the Command to be spectacular. Though he owned many a pair of the male-oriented shirt ornaments, he owned absolutely none that boasted diamonds in their design. So what better way to emphasize this personal turning point than with cufflinks bought from the world\"s largest diamond center? Napoleon had received cufflinks as gifts from various people close to him, from his Aunt Amy to his one-time fiancée Clara Richards, throughout his lifetime. Yet, with regard to any such items meant to commemorate a particular moment in connection with U.N.C.L.E., Napoleon always purchased them for himself. He probably couldn\"t have explained the why of that if asked; it just somehow seemed most right to him. His relationship with U.N.C.L.E. was far too internal to intimately share with others. He had tried that years ago with Clara and in the end she had walked away from him because U.N.C.L.E. was so integral to his soul. He didn\"t know why or when this kinesis of being had happened, but he was wise enough not to any longer deny it. Oh, there was also no denying Napoleon Solo adored women, found them exhilarating and as necessary to his everyday happiness as breathing was to his physical survival. Since Clara he\"d had many affectionate sexual liaisons, yet absolutely no passionate romantic affairs. He recognized now there really wasn\"t any compromise that could be reached between the continuously competing responsibilities of the heart and of the soul. Today though Napoleon wasn\"t dwelling on any of that. He was thoroughly at peace with the world and with himself. He hummed tunelessly as he \"window-shopped\" the displays at various swanky retail jewelry stores. He sauntered in and out of the establishments, nonchalantly browsing their wares, his senses on the alert for that one set of cufflinks that would draw his eye and tickle his fancy. And then he spotted them. They were bold yet elegant: designed as shooting stars, each with a five-pronged focal point accented by a curved ribbon that split into three separate tails. They literally glittered with diamonds as the brilliantly faceted stones covered every element of the motif, even leaving Napoleon unsure if the underlying metal was white gold or platinum. One could say perhaps they were a bit ostentatious, but they definitely made a statement that to Napoleon suited his current state of mind. He was himself glowing inside with the practical recognition received within his chosen field of idealistic endeavor. So why not let that glow show a bit on the outside with the radiance of diamonds when he shot his cuffs? Intent on claiming his prize, Napoleon thrust his hands casually into his trouser pockets as he cleared his throat to gain the attention of the salesman behind the glitzy counter. He had no doubt the cufflinks would be sybaritically costly in terms of legal tender, but hey, he had already more than paid his humanitarian dues in far more precious coin. November 1969London, England \"You\"re late,\" Illya Kuryakin commented a bit tartly to his partner. \"Oh? The plane hasn\"t taken off yet, right? So technically I\"m not late,\" responded Napoleon Solo in a teasing tone and with a mischievous grin. The two men had been in England for the past two weeks overseeing the security operation for the most recent U.N.C.L.E. Summit Five conference that had concluded the day before. It had been a relatively quiet affair for the organization\"s top enforcement team. No murders or jealousy-motivated vendettas or grandiose Thrush takeover plots like those that had made Summit Five in Berlin two years ago such an unpleasant memory, especially for Napoleon. \"You said you would meet me at the airport twenty minutes ago,\" Illya further challenged, perhaps a bit petulantly. Illya\"s own most poignant memory of the Berlin Summit Five was of his partner being \"psychologically\" tortured by U.N.C.L.E. itself. That had left a sour taste in his mouth, even though he now knew Napoleon had used that situation in an attempt to expose a mole within the organization. In the end that mole had been one of the five Continental Chiefs themselves, Harry Beldon, and he had been brought down before he could do any irreparable damage to U.N.C.L.E. Yet Beldon had also been the man Illya had worked for in the initial stage of his enforcement-agent career. Thus that Beldon had turned out to be a Thrush in U.N.C.L.E.\"s clothing had disquieted Kuryakin more than he would ever openly admit, even to his partner. So perhaps he was a bit more irritable today than was warranted by Solo\"s minor tardiness. It was just he wanted to mentally catalogue the latest Summit Five as completely over and done, and he could only do that with the finality of their current departure from London. Therefore the prospect of he and Napoleon possibly missing their scheduled commercial flight home had been particularly unsettling. \"And I have met you at the airport, just a bit behind schedule. So all\"s good,\" countered Napoleon wryly. Illya gave no verbal reply, but he did quite expressively roll his eyes, a sign of mild exasperation that Napoleon purposely ignored. Instead Solo gave the girl behind one of the airline desks a truly charismatic smile as he requested a customs declaration form. \"Whatever do you have to declare?\" Illya asked with some curiosity. Napoleon reached inside his jacket and pulled a small flat jewelry case from the inner pocket, laying it on the counter in front of Illya. The Russian opened the leather-bound container and gazed upon its contents. \"Another set of cufflinks, Napoleon? You own pairs enough already for a dozen men.\" Napoleon only shrugged. \"Don\"t tell me: you saw them in a shop window and couldn\"t pass them by.\" Again Napoleon only shrugged. He wasn\"t about to let his partner in on the truth that these particular shirt trinkets had been custom designed to his specifications. Though he did indeed own many pairs of cufflinks, he had never before himself commissioned any. He had come across all previous sets he had personally bought much as Illya had mentioned: he would see a set that fit some condition in his mind and purchase them \"off the shelf\", as it were. These cufflinks though were different. He had wanted something to memorialize the fifth anniversary of his permanent partnership with Illya, a milestone that had been reached that October. That particular landmark was not one the two men verbally discussed, yet was it ever-present in Napoleon\"s mind. He and Kuryakin were U.N.C.L.E.\"s top enforcement team, the cream of the crop, but it was more than that. With the Russian agent Solo had forged a bond of friendship unlike any he had ever formed with another human being. Oh, he had friends by the score, but those ties were always casual, close to the surface, fostered by commonalities of past upbringing, current character traits or future expectations. Napoleon shared none of those usual companionship roots with Illya. Where Napoleon had been nurtured within the open framework of democratic principles, Illya had been reared within the closed structure of communist tenets. Where Napoleon\"s nature was optimistic and idealistic, Illya\"s was pragmatic and realistic. Where Napoleon focused on fundamentally affirming opportunities, Illya concentrated on effectively negating threats. The two men could not seem more different, and yet there was an inner core where they melded together, each a separate half of the same whole and neither truly complete without the other. So, during this assignment in London that wound up fortunately not consuming his every waking hour, Napoleon had spared some time for a trip to Hatton Garden. At the shop of one of the area\"s renowned jewelers, he had batted back-and-forth with a master goldsmith ideas on the creation of a truly one-of-a-kind set of cufflinks. Something that represented himself and Illya and their unique synergy. The final result of that creative process had finally been ready today for his pickup, and now rested in the small leather case open on the surface of the airline courtesy desk. That artistic outcome had turned out exactly how Napoleon had wished: a bit of him, a bit of Illya, and a bit of what was shared between them imaginatively interpreted in the skillful twisting of fine metals. As the airline clerk returned with the form Solo required, Kuryakin took the case in hand and tilted it to-and-fro, examining its contents with a critical eye as the light reflected off the ornaments from various directions. Each cufflink consisted of a toothed leaf wrought in white gold that sported a short curved stem running through one side of a horizontally positioned yellow gold acorn. Another short curved stem ran out from the opposite side of the acorn into the main body of a serrated leaf fashioned of rose gold. The crossbar backed the white-gold leaf on the left cufflink and the rose-gold leaf on the right cufflink, thus placing the toothed leaf on the top of one link and the serrated leaf on the top of the other. The leaves themselves were angled in such a way that the set together formed an open circle, with a leaf of one kind seemingly stretching toward the leaf of the other kind on the opposite cufflink. \"The detailing of the leaves is exquisite,\" Illya conceded with honest appreciation for the workmanship, \"but I must assume the goldsmith had little familiarity with botany.\" \"Oh?\" casually questioned Napoleon, seemingly intent on the task of filling out the customs declaration. But in truth he was watching Illya\"s reaction askance, pleased with his partner\"s obvious fascination with the design of the cufflinks. He had never shared with Illya the association behind his assorted collection of cuff ornaments. It was one of those rare private emotional places where he didn\"t unreservedly embrace the prospect of Kuryakin\"s interconnection. Between the partners there were still a few of those for each man. Still, Napoleon could not help but feel contentment with the fact the concept he had conceived as a representation of the unique harmony between the two of them did indeed intrigue the other man. \"Napoleon, even you must know that, though mighty oaks from tiny acorns grow,\" Illya paraphrased an old adage, \"powerful birches do not. And this rose-gold leaf is that of a birch just as surely as the white-gold one is that of an oak.\" \"Think about it, Illya,\" Napoleon\"s mind forwarded even while his lips merely inquired, \"Is it?\" \"Of that I have absolutely no doubt, my friend,\" Illya confirmed. \"I am quite familiar with the shape of that particular leaf as the birch is the national tree of Russia.\" \"You don\"t say,\" said Napoleon aloud as his brain silently noted, \"As the oak is the national tree of the United States, tovarisch.\" Illya ran a finger lightly over first one cufflink where it was nestled in its bed of velvet and then over the other. His brain was reaching toward a correlation with something, but his facial expression let on he wasn\"t sure just what. \"The acorn is U.N.C.L.E., my Russian cohort,\" Napoleon\"s wordless mental prodding continued as he seemingly concentrated on the form he was mechanically filling in as necessary, \"and from that \"tiny acorn\" have we both gotten the chance to grow: toward a conviction that has crossed rival political boundaries and into a trust that has bridged opposing personality traits.\" As if somehow hearing Napoleon\"s thoughts, Illya opened his eyes remarkably wide for a split second and then squinted hard at his ostensibly mundanely occupied partner. \"Napoleon,\" he ventured, \"is there anything in particular you want to tell me about these cufflinks?\" Again Napoleon shrugged. \"Just that I appreciate them as a set... more than I ever expected.\" Illya shut the small case with an audible snap, enveloping the separate halves once more within the protection of the same whole. \"Then you\"d best keep them close,\" he gravely admonished Solo as he extended the closed box back to the dark-haired man. Napoleon looked up toward his partner once more and accepted the jewelry case from his hand with a simple, \"Indeed.\" Then he carefully placed the box back within his inside jacket pocket, right over his heart. May 1974New York City, New York In the end Napoleon chose to wear to Waverly\"s retirement dinner the gold-and-star sapphire umbrella disk cufflinks he had purchased nearly two decades ago in Anegada. It somehow seemed appropriate to him that the ornaments he had selected to rejoice in his own triumphant entry into U.N.C.L.E. should now as well memorialize Mr. Waverly\"s graceful exit from the organization. Something in Alexander Waverly had always reminded Napoleon Solo of his grandfather, Franklin Milbourne. There was no doubt Mr. Waverly was more open-minded and less bound by old conventions than Napoleon\"s childhood guardian had ever been, yet were both incredibly righteous men internally compelled by the tenets of their own moral convictions. And in some ways Waverly\"s mentorship of Solo mirrored his grandfather\"s guardianship: caring but tough, expectant of a certain degree of adherence to set rules but also tolerant and even pleased by a certain degree of independent thought in his \"charge\". The mood of the dinner was nostalgic yet cheerful. The Old Man would be missed. It was he who had built the organization from the ground up, he who had helmed it into steady achievement of the admittedly difficult goal of non-partisan cooperation between nations. Yet the \"New Man\" held the promise of a bright continuing future for the Command. Napoleon Solo was a superb strategist who also recognized how to use congenial diplomacy to best advantage. His experience as a field agent gave him a ready understanding of the \"down in the trenches\" aspects of U.N.C.L.E., and his personal commitment to the underlying ideals of the organization was unparalleled. Only a tiny minority of practiced skeptics had any misgivings that he was the best mix of both personality and skill for the position of next \"first among equals\" Continental Chief. Napoleon sat to Waverly\"s left at the head table, the other four Continental Chiefs ensconced to the Old Man\"s right. Illya sat on Napoleon\"s left as he had so often at Waverly\"s round desk during their enforcement agent years, both men listening to the Old Man speak challengingly then of their next assignment in the field as he now spoke contentedly of their next roles in the organization. The food was delectably mouth-watering, the champagne delightfully nerve-relaxing, the toasts either warmly or humorously celebratory, and the atmosphere a perfect blend of fond conclusion and eager anticipation. As the last of dessert was being happily consumed by the attendees with an additional cup of coffee or tea poured by the servers, Mr. Waverly asked to speak to Napoleon privately for a moment. Concerned that perhaps there was to be one more piece of crucial but heretofore confidential information that needed to be passed on by the exiting Section I Number 1 of North America to his successor, Napoleon\"s countenance took on a very serious mien as he nodded his assent. The two men walked off toward a small private sitting room in the secured catering hall. Once there, Mr. Waverly chided with a wry smile, \"You needn\"t look so tense, Mr. Solo. I\"m not about to reveal some hush-hush situation that could result in World War III and thus that you must rectify immediately.' Napoleon\"s shoulders visibly relaxed. \"That\"s good to hear, Mr. Waverly.\" \"I simply wanted to personally present you with a little gift.\" Napoleon\"s eyebrows rose upward toward his hairline at that disclosure. Ignoring the younger man\"s astonishment, Alexander Waverly removed a small jeweler\"s case from the inside pocket of his tuxedo jacket and extended it toward Solo. Napoleon accepted the box from the hand of the older man and silently opened the hinged container. Inside was a pair of gold cufflinks. The motif was of a framework dove, wings outstretched, with the main of the body formed by a globe. To Napoleon it looked very akin to a religious symbol he remembered from his Catholic-educated childhood: the Holy Ghost protecting the world. But he noted that the globe was the skeletal globe of the insignia of U.N.C.L.E. He glanced back up at Mr. Waverly\"s face and saw the sly amusement in the Old Man\"s eyes. \"I know you collect cufflinks, Mr. Solo.\" Napoleon slowly nodded. It would seem the cunning old fox knew much more than simply that. That somehow he had found out the particular associations Napoleon attached to those collected cufflinks. \"A long time ago, when the idea of U.N.C.L.E. was first conceived,\" Mr. Waverly revealed now in a conversational manner, \"Winston Churchill said to me that it was akin to \"a pregnant belly in the body of the dove of peace, alive with the fledgling hope for a better world\". I always thought that a particularly poignant sentiment and one worth remembering. So it seemed to me appropriate, with your rite of passage in taking over the reins of the Command, that you have something to forever serve as a reminder of that most apt description of our organization... your organization.\" \"I will cherish them, Mr. Waverly,\" Napoleon stammered out. Now it was Waverly who nodded. \"And U.N.C.L.E. as well, Mr. Solo. I have no qualms about leaving the \"belly of the dove\" for delivery into your guiding hands. You have the right mindset, the right heart-vibe and the right soul-sense to lead the United Network Command for Law and Enforcement into the future. And, where any excess sentiment triggered by your romanticized idealism or over-expectation instigated by your energized optimism might occasionally interfere with more exacting judgment, you\"ll have Mr. Kuryakin\"s steadying hold on unembellished reality and dead-on grasp of a pragmatic viewpoint to keep you on an even keel.\" \"Yes sir,\" Napoleon found himself responding automatically, since he just didn\"t know what else to say. Mr. Waverly\"s lips curved into another wry smile. \"Go enjoy the remainder of the evening, Mr. Solo. Myself I\"m too old a man to unnecessarily keep these late hours. I\"m going to find my wife and suggest we take our leave.\" \"Yes sir,\" Napoleon answered automatically once more, as more expressive words simply failed him. Then Waverly was gone from the room and he was left standing alone, staring at the boxed cufflinks in his hand, the moisture of startling tears blurring his vision. \"Everything all right?\" a very familiar and most reassuring voice suddenly brought him out of his emotional daze. Napoleon turned to look at Illya standing beside him: the mission partner a master tactician had unerringly matched with him, the other half of the whole, he who could ably assist in the delivery of the promise held in the belly of the dove. The new Continental Chief of U.N.C.L.E. North America smiled his most brilliant smile. \"Everything is just how it was meant to be,\" Napoleon stated cryptically, thinking of how utterly complete was this particular brief capsule of time in his life and how perfectly it would always be commemorated by Waverly\"s extraordinary gift. -The End-"
]
embeddings = model.encode(sentences)
similarities = model.similarity(embeddings, embeddings)
print(similarities.shape)
# [4, 4] 
