The Pickle Jar

We hate u Lara Bingle, go die in a fire, u stupid Kunt

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UPDATE 9.08am: HEARTBROKEN cricketer Michael Clarke temporarily left his troubled personal life and ex-fiancee Lara Bingle behind today, to rejoin his team in New Zealand.

Clarke, 28, walked into the International airport at 7.10am dressed casually in the team's tracksuit.

He was ushered through to the Qantas flight to Wellington, without having to check in with other passengers, and he did not comment as he made his way through the large media throng.

Teammate Stephen Smith said Clarke's teammates will be there to support him as he has had a "pretty tough time" of late.

"I'm sure he's had a pretty tough time of it of late, so I'm not really sure what's going on with the matter. It's none of my business,'' Smith said.

"I guess he has some work to do when he gets there (New Zealand).

"He's a pretty tough customer so he's going to come back and want to do well for Australia''.

His flight left Sydney at 8.45am, while the Aston Martin he gave Bingle is up for sale and the $200,000 engagement ring is still down the loo.

That was the state of play for a bleary-eyed Michael Clarke two days after his messy split with Lara Bingle.

Plumbers will today sift through tonnes of sewage for the diamond ring Bingle is said to have flushed down the toilet during last week's break-up at their Bondi apartment.

As if things weren't bad enough, Clarke was embroiled in a heated confrontation with a young woman at one of Sydney's swankiest nightclubs early yesterday morning after she took a photo of him.

The most famous Aston Martin in Australia was sitting idle outside a car dealer's showroom in Petersham yesterday.

The deep blue Vantage V8 was briefly "stolen" from the couple's Bondi apartment block early this year.

The 2008 car is for sale for $219,000.

"It's Lara Bingle's car. It's an impressive thing," a salesman said.

Less impressed are the plumbers who will sift through the sewage pit under Clarke's apartment for a "small item", believed to be Bingle's engagement ring.

Although her agent Max Markson said the ring was safe and well, a spokesman at Twin Pipes plumbing confirmed they would continue the search for an item of jewellery today.

A spokesman for the company said plumbers visited the building at 3am on Saturday because it is best to search drainage systems "when the building is asleep".

He said the sewage pit would be pumped out to see if there is anything on the bottom.

In a bid to relax with mates after one of the toughest weeks of his life, Clarke chose one of the Sydney's most popular venues, the Establishment.

It ended with a confrontation at 1.30am when a woman took a photograph of the cricket star.

"We couldn't believe that he was even there, but my friend went up and asked him if she could take his photograph," a woman said.

"He was with a group of friends and said no, he didn't want to be photographed."

The woman moved away but still took a photograph.

She was spotted by one of Clarke's mates.

Clarke then shouted across the bar for the woman to delete it as other patrons watched in amazement.

Clarke's friend went around the bar and told the woman to delete it, trying to grab the camera before Clarke arrived on the scene and pleaded with her to delete it.

"It got quite heated and the guy with Clarke said he was going to have us thrown out, but we'd done nothing wrong and there was no way my friend was going to hand over the camera or delete the photo," the witness said.

She said more words were exchanged before security arrived and calmed the scene, with Clarke and his entourage of mates leaving.

A hotel spokeswoman played down the confrontation.

"It seems the incident ended amicably, with our security staff taking (Clarke) and his friends out the back door so they could avoid photographers out the front," she said.

Clarke is expected to fly to New Zealand soon to rejoin his teammates.

Related Coverage

* Pictures: Bloody hell, it's Lara Bingle
* Markson puts value on Bingle The Australian, 9 hours ago
* Bingle's Aston Martin up for grabs Adelaide Now, 12 hours ago
* Bingle flushes $200,000 ring down toilet Perth Now, 17 hours ago
 
u can has her loktar, all u need is 1mil to talk to her and guaranteed publicity and she's all urs...be warned tho....she be little bit psycho + u gotta slave drive her to clean up her dog's shit....
 
u can has her loktar, all u need is 1mil to talk to her and guaranteed publicity and she's all urs...be warned tho....she be little bit psycho + u gotta slave drive her to clean up her dog's shit....

I'd clean up her dog poop if she let me fuck her.
 
lul how can someone that cute, manage to bring teh wrath of a nation upon her?
Esp when it was all going so well? EPIC FAILZ
 
As the winter winds litter London with lonely hearts
Oh the warmth in your eyes swept me into your arms
Was it love or fear of the cold that led us through the night?
For every kiss your beauty trumped my doubt

And my head told my heart
"Let love grow"
But my heart told my head
"This time no
This time no"

We'll be washed and buried one day my girl
And the time we were given will be left for the world
The flesh that lived and loved will be eaten by plague
So let the memories be good for those who stay

And my head told my heart
"Let love grow"
But my heart told my head
"This time no"
Yes, my heart told my head
"This time no
This time no"

Oh the shame that sent me off from the God that I once loved
Was the same that sent me into your arms
Oh and pestilence is won when you are lost and I am gone
And no hope, no hope will overcome

And if your strife strikes at your sleep
Remember spring swaps snow for leaves
You'll be happy and wholesome again
When the city clears and sun ascends

And my head told my heart
"Let love grow"
But my heart told my head
"This time no"

And my head told my heart
"Let love grow"
But my heart told my head
"This time no
This time no"
 
It's empty in the valley of your heart
The sun, it rises slowly as you walk
Away from all the fears
And all the faults you've left behind

The harvest left no food for you to eat
You cannibal, you meat-eater, you see
But I have seen the same
I know the shame in your defeat

But I will hold on hope
And I won't let you choke
On the noose around your neck

And I'll find strength in pain
And I will change my ways
I'll know my name as it's called again

Cause I have other things to fill my time
You take what is yours and I'll take mine
Now let me at the truth
Which will refresh my broken mind

So tie me to a post and block my ears
I can see widows and orphans through my tears
I know my call despite my faults
And despite my growing fears

But I will hold on hope
And I won't let you choke
On the noose around your neck

And I'll find strength in pain
And I will change my ways
I'll know my name as it's called again

So come out of your cave walking on your hands
And see the world hanging upside down
You can understand dependence
When you know the maker's land

So make your siren's call
And sing all you want
I will not hear what you have to say

Cause I need freedom now
And I need to know how
To live my life as it's meant to be

And I will hold on hope
And I won't let you choke
On the noose around your neck

And I'll find strength in pain
And I will change my ways
I'll know my name as it's called again
 
How fickle my heart and how woozy my eyes
I struggle to find any truth in your lies
And now my heart stumbles on things I don't know
My weakness I feel I must finally show

Lend me your hand and we'll conquer them all
But lend me your heart and I'll just let you fall
Lend me your eyes I can change what you see
But your soul you must keep, totally free

In these bodies we will live, in these bodies we will die
Where you invest your love, you invest your life
In these bodies we will live, in these bodies we will die
Where you invest your love, you invest your life

Awake my soul, awake my soul
Awake my soul
You were made to meet your maker
Awake my soul, awake my soul
Awake my soul
You were made to meet your maker
 
weep for yourself, my man,
you'll never be what is in your heart
weep little lion man,
you're not as brave as you were at the start
rate yourself and rape yourself,
take all the courage you have left
wasted on fixing all the problems that you made in your own head

but it was not your fault but mine
and it was your heart on the line
i really fucked it up this time
didn't I, my dear?

tremble for yourself, my man,
you know that you have seen this all before
tremble little lion man,
you'll never settle any of your score
your grace is wasted in your face,
your boldness stands alone among the wreck
learn from your mother or else spend your days biting your own neck

but it was not your fault but mine
and it was your heart on the line
i really fucked it up this time
didn't I, my dear?
 
The young man stands on the edge of his porch
The days were short and the father was gone
There was no one in the town and no one in the field
This dusty barren land had given all it could yield

I've been kicked off my land at the age of sixteen
And I have no idea where else my heart could have been
I placed all my trust at the foot of this hill
And now I am sure my heart can never be still
So collect your courage and collect your horse
And pray you never feel this same kind of remorse

Seal my heart and brake my pride
I've nowhere to stand and now nowhere to hide
Align my heart, my body, my mind
To face what I've done and do my time

Well you are my accuser, now look in my face
Your opression reeks of your greed and disgrace
So one man has and another has not
How can you love what it is you have got
When you took it all from the weak hands of the poor?
Liars and thieves you know not what is in store

There will come a time I will look in your eye
You will pray to the God that you always denied
The I'll go out back and I'll get my gun
I'll say, "You haven't met me, I am the only son"

Seal my heart and brake my pride
I've nowhere to stand and now nowhere to hide
Align my heart, my body, my mind
To face what I've done and do my time

Well yes sir, yes sir, yes it was me
I know what I've done, cause I know what I've seen
I went out back and I got my gun
I said, "You haven't met me, I am the only son"
 
The rhizome itself assumes very diverse forms, from ramified surface extension in all directions to concretion into bulbs and tubers. When rats swarm over each other. The rhizome includes the best and the worst: potato and couchgrass, or the weed. Animal and plant, couchgrass is crabgrass. We get the distinct feeling that we will convince no one unless we enumerate certain approximate characteristics of the rhizome.

1 and 2. Principles of connection and heterogeneity: any point of a rhizome can be connected to anything other, and must be. This is very different from the tree or root, which plots a point, fixes an order. The linguistic tree on the Chomsky model still begins at a point S and proceeds by dichotomy. On the contrary, not every trait in a rhizome is necessarily linked to a linguistic feature: semiotic chains of every nature are connected to very diverse modes of coding (biological, political, economic, etc.) that bring into play not only different regimes of signs but also states of things of differing status. COLLECTIVE ASSEMBLAGES OF ENUNCIATION (df: original italicized) function directly within MACHINIC ASSEMBLAGES; it is not impossible to make a radical break between signs and their objects. Even when linguistics claims to confine itself to what is explicit and to make no presuppositions about language, it is still in the sphere of a discourse implying particular modes of assemblage and types of social power. Chomsky's grammaticality, the categorical S symbol that dominates every sentence, is more fundamentally a marker of power than a syntactic marker: you will construct grammatically correct sentences, you will divide each statement into a noun phrase and a verb phrase (first dichotomy...). Our criticism of these linguistic models is not that they are too abstract but, on the contrary, that they are not abstract enough, that they do not reach the ABSTRACT MACHINE that connects a language to the semantic and pragmatic contents of statements, to collective assemblages of enunciation, to a whole micropolitics of the social field. A rhizome ceaselessly establishes connections between semiotic chains, organizations of power, and circumstances relative to the arts, sciences, and social struggles. A semiotic chain is like a tuber agglomerating very diverse acts, not only linguistic, but also perceptive, mimetic, gestural, and cognitive: there is no language in itself, nor are there any linguistic universals, only a throng of dialects, patois, slangs, and specialized languages. There is no ideal speaker-listener, any more than there is a homogeneous linguistic community. Language is, in Weinrich's words, "an essentially heterogeneous reality." There is no mother tongue, only a power takeover by a dominant language within a political multiplicity. Language stabilizes around a parish, a bishopric, a capital. It forms a bulb. It evolves by subterranean stems and flows, along river valleys or train tracks; it spreads like a patch of oil. It is always possible to break a language down into internal structural elements, an undertaking not fundamentally different from a search for roots. There is always something genealogical about a tree. It is not a method for the people. A method of the rhizome type, on the contrary, can analyze language only be decentering it onto other dimensions and other registers. A language is never closed upon itself, except as a function of impotence.

3. Principle of multiplicity: it is only when the multiple is effectively treated as a substantive, "multiplicity," that it ceases to have any relation to the One as subject or object, natural or spiritual reality, image and world. Multiplicities are rhizomatic, and expose arborescent pseudomultiplicities for what they are. There is no unity to serve as a pivot in the object, or to divide in the subject. There is not even the unity to abort in the object or "return" in the subject. A multiplicity has neither subject nor object, only determinations, magnitudes, and dimensions that cannot increase in number without the multiplicity changing in nature (the laws of combination therefore increase in number as the multiplicity grows). Puppet strings, as a rhizome or multiplicity, are tied not to the supposed will of an artist or puppeteer but to a multiplicity of nerve fibers, which form another puppet in other dimensions connected to the first: "Call the strings or rods that move the puppet the weave. It might be objected that ITS MULTIPLICITY resides in the person of the actor, who projects it into the text. Granted; but the actor's nerve fibers in turn form a weave. And they fall through the gray matter, the grid, into the undifferentiated...The interplay approximates the pure activity of weavers attributed in myth to the Fates or Norns." An assemblage is precisely this increase in the dimensions of a multiplicity that necessarily changes in nature as it expands its connections. There are no points or positions in a rhizome, such as those found in a structure, tree, or root. There are only lines. When Glenn Gould speeds up the performance of a piece, he is not just displaying virtuosity, he is transforming the musical points into lines, he is making the whole piece proliferate. The number is no longer a universal concept measuring elements according to their emplacement in a given dimension, but has itself become a multiplicity that varies according to the dimensions considered (the primacy of the domain over a complex of numbers attached to that domain). We do not have units (unitÉs) of measure, only multiplicities or varieties of measurement. The notion of unity (unitÉ) appears only when there is a power takeover in the multiplicity by the signifier or a corresponding subjectification proceeding: This is the case for a pivot-unity forming the basis for a set of biunivocal relationships between objective elements or points, or for the One that divides following the law of a binary logic of differentiation in the subject. Unity always operates in an empty dimension supplementary to that of the system considered (overcoding). The point is that a rhizome or multiplicity never allows itself to be overcoded, never has available a supplementary dimension over and above its number of lines, that is, over and above the multiplicity of numbers attached to those lines. All multiplicities are flat, in the sense that they fill or occupy all of their dimensions: we will therefore speak of a PLANE OF CONSISTENCY of multiplicities, even though the dimensions of this "plane" increase with the number of connections that are made on it. Multiplicities are defined by the outside: by the abstract line, the line of flight or deterritorialization according to which they change in nature and connect with other multiplicities. The plane of consistency (grid) is the outside of all multiplicities. The line of flight marks: the reality of a finite number of dimensions that the multiplicity effectively fills; the impossibility of a supplementary dimension, unless the multiplicity is transformed by the line of flight; the possibility and necessity of flattening all of the multiplicities on a single plane of consistency or exteriority, regardless of their number of dimensions. The ideal for a book would be to lay everything out on a plane of exteriority of this kind, on a single page, the same sheet: lived events, historical determinations, concepts, individuals, groups, social formations. Kleist invented a writing of this type, a broken chain of affects and variable speeds, with accelerations and transformations, always in a relation with the outside. Open rings. His texts, therefore, are opposed in every way to the classical or romantic book constituted by the interiority of a substance or subject. The war machine-book against the State apparatus-book. FLAT MULTIPLICITIES OF N DIMENSIONS are asignifying and asubjective. They are designated by indefinite articles, or rather by partitives (SOME couchgrass, SOME of a rhizome...).

4. Principle of asignfying rupture: against the oversignifying breaks separating structures or cutting across a single structure. A rhizome may be broken, shattered at a given spot, but it will start up again on one of its old lines, or on new lines. You can never get rid of ants because they form an animal rhizome that can rebound time and again after most of it has been destroyed. Every rhizome contains lines of segmentarity according to which it is stratified, territorialized, organized, signified, attributed, etc., as well as lines of deterritorialization down which it constantly flees. There is a rupture in the rhizome whenever segmentary lines explode into a line of flight, but the line of flight is part of a rhizome. These lines always tie back to one another. That is why one can never posit a dualism or a dichotomy, even in the rudimentary form of the good and the bad. You may make a rupture, draw a line of flight, yet there is still a danger that you will reencounter organizations that restratify everything, formations that restore power to a signifier, attributions that reconstitute a subject -- anything you like, from Oedipal resurgences to fascist concretions. Groups and individuals contain microfascisms just waiting to crystallize. Yes, couchgrass is also a rhizome. Good and bad are only the products of an active and temporary selection, which must be renewed.

How could movements of deterritorialization and processes of reterritorialization not be relative, always connected, caught up in one another? The orchid deterritorializes by forming an image, a tracing of a wasp; but the wasp reterritorializes on that image. The wasp is nevertheless deterritorialized, becoming a piece in the orchid's reproductive apparatus. But it reterritorializes the orchid by transporting its pollen. Wasp and orchid, as heterogeneous elements, form a rhizome. It could be said that the orchid imitates the wasp, reproducing the image in a signifying fashion (mimesis, mimicry, lure, etc.). But this is true only on the level of the strata -- a parallelism between two strata such that a plant organization on one imitates an animal organization on the other. At the same time, something else entirely is going on: not imitation at all but a capture of code, surplus value of code, an increase in valence, a veritable becoming, a becoming-wasp of the orchid and a becoming-orchid of the wasp. Each of these becomings brings about the deterritorialization of one term and the reterritorialization of the other; the two becomings interlink and form relays in a circulation of intensities pushing the deterritorialization ever further. There is neither imitation nor resemblance, only an exploding of two heterogeneous series on the line of flight composed by a common rhizome that can no longer be attributed to or subjugated by anything signifying. Remy Chauvin expresses it will: "the APARALLEL EVOLUTION of two beings that have absolutely nothing to do with each other." More generally, evolutionary schemas may be forced to abandon the old model of the tree and descent. Under certain conditions, a virus can connect to germ cells and transmit itself as the cellular gene of a complex species; moreover, it can take flight, move into the cells of an entirely different species, but not without bringing with it "genetic information" from the first host (for example, Benveniste and Todaro's current research on a type C virus, with its double connection to baboon DNA and the DNA of certain domestic cats). Evolutionary schemas would no longer follow models of arborescent descent going from the least to the most differentiated, but instead a rhizome operating immediately in the heterogeneous and jumping from one already differentiated line to another. Once again, there is APARALLEL EVOLUTION, of the baboon and the cat; it is obvious that they are not models or copies of the other (a becoming-baboon in the cat does not mean the cat "plays" baboon). We form a rhizome with our viruses, or rather our viruses cause us to form a rhizome with other animals. As Francois Jacob says, transfers of genetic material by viruses or through other procedures, fusions of cells originating in different species, have results analogous to those of "the abominable couplings dear to antiquity and the Middle Ages." Transversal communications between different lines scramble the genealogical trees. Always look for the molecular, or even submolecular, particle with which we are allied. We evolve and die more from our polymorphous and rhizomatic flus than from hereditary diseases, or diseases that have their own line of descent. The rhizome is an anti-genealogy.

The same applies to the book and the world: contrary to a deeply rooted belief, the book is not an image of the world. It forms a rhizome with the world, there is an aparallel evolution of the book and the world; the book assures the deterritorialization of the world, but the world effects a reterritorialization of the book, which in turn deterritorializes itself in the world (if its capable, if it can). Mimicry is a very bad concept, since it relies on binary logic to describe phenomena of an entirely different nature. The crocodile does not reproduce a tree trunk, any more than the chameleon reproduces the colors of its surroundings. The Pink Panther imitates nothing, it reproduces nothing, it paints the world its color, pink on pink; this is its becoming-world, carried out in such a way that it becomes imperceptible itself, asignifying, makes its rupture, its own line of flight, follows its "aparallel evolution" through to the end. The wisdom of the plants: even with something else -- with the wind, an animal, human beings (and there is also an aspect under which animals themselves form rhizomes, as do people, etc.). "Drunkenness as a triumphant irruption of the plant in us." Always follow the rhizome by rupture; lengthen, prolong, and relay the line of flight; make it vary, until you have produced the most abstract and tortuous of lines of N dimensions and broken directions. Conjugate deterritorialized flows. Follow the plants: you start by delimiting a first line consisting of circles of convergence around successive singularities; then you see whether inside that line new circles of convergence establish themselves, with new points located outside the limits and in other directions. Write, form a rhizome, increase your territory by deterritorialization, extend the line of flight to the point where it becomes an abstract machine covering the entire plane of consistency. "Go first to your old plant and watch carefully the watercourse made by the rain. By now the rain must have carried the seeds far away. Watch the crevices made by the runoff, and from them determine the direction of the flow. Then find the plant that is growing at the farthest point from your plant. All the devil's weed plants that are growing in between are yours. Later...you can extend the size of your territory by following the watercourse from each point along the way." Music has always sent out lines of flight, like so many "transformational multiplicites," even overturning the very codes that structure or arborify it; that is why musical form, right down to its ruptures and proliferations is comparable to a weed, a rhizome.

5 and 6. Principle of cartography and decalcomania: a rhizome is not amenable to any structural or generative model. It is a stranger to any idea of genetic axis or deep structure. A genetic axis is like an objective pivotal unity upon which successive stages are organized; a deep structure is more like a base sequence that can be broken down into immediate constituents, while the unity of the product passes into another, transformational and subjective, dimension. This does not constitute a departure from the representative model of the tree, or root -- pivotal taproot or fascicles (for example, Chomsky's "tree" is associated with a base sequence and represents the process of its own generation in terms of binary logic). A variation on the oldest form of thought. It is our view that genetic axis and profound structure are above all infinitiely reproducible principles of TRACING. All of tree logic is logic of tracing and reproduction. In linguistics as in psychoanalysis, its object is an unconscious that is itself representative, crystallized into codified complexes, laid out along a genetic axis and distributed within a syntagmatic structure. Its goal is to describe a de facto state, to maintain balance in intersubjective relations, or to explore an unconscious that is already there form the start, lurking in the dark recesses of memory and language. It consists of tracing, on the basis of an overcoding structure or supporting axis, something that comes ready-made. The tree articulates and hierarchizes tracings; tracings are like the leaves of a tree.

The rhizome is altogether different, a MAP AND NOT A TRACING. Make a map, not a tracing. The orchid does not reproduce the tracing of the wasp; it forms a map with the wasp, in a rhizome. What distinguishes the map from the tracing is that it is entirely oriented toward an experimentation in contact with the real. The map does not reproduce an unconscious closed contact with the real. The map does not reproduce an unconscious closed in upon itself; it constructs the unconscious. It fosters connections between fields, the removal of blockages on bodies without organs, the maximum opening of bodies without organs onto a plane of consistency. It is itself a part of the rhizome. The map is open and connectable in all ot is dimensions; it is detachable, reversible, susceptible to constant modification. It can be torn, reversed, adapted to any kind of mounting, reworked by an individual, group, or social formation. It can be drawn on a wall, conceived of as a work of art, constructed as a political action or as a meditation. Perhaps one of the most important characteristics of the rhizome is that it always has multiple entryways; in this sense, the burrow is an animal rhizome, and sometimes maintains a clear distinction between the line of flight as passageway and storage or living strata (cf. the muskrat). A map has multiple entryways, as opposed to the tracing, which always comes back "to the same." The map has to do with performance, whereas the tracing always involves an alleged "competence." Unlike psychoanalysis, pyschoanalytic competence (which confines every desire and statement to a genetic axis or overcoding structure, and makes infinite, monotonous tracings of the stages on that axis or the consituents of that structure), schizoanalysis rejects any idea of pretraced destiny, whatever name is given to it -- divine, anagogic, historical, economic, structural, hereditary, or syntagmatic...
 
Hello, I'm [random LiveJournal community] member #278. Most of you have never seen me post. A few of you know me from [insert link for this weeks drama filled post] where I was in a rather heated online argument. I have to say I'm disappointed in [livejournal community]. I won't name names in this post even though the entire community knows who I'm talking about. That way I can always point to my post saying, "I NEVER SAID YOUR NAME!" This gives me the upper ground. I didn't like the way that you did that thing you did. And the photoshopped pictures about me hurt my feelings. Yes, I realize there are different opinions in a community this size but I'll let the comments of a few posters color my whole perception of this place. So I'm leaving forever. Forever ever? And ever ever? Yes. Although I will still answer all the comments people leave me and I'll reappear if my name is mentioned. But after that, I'm TOTALLY gone.

Now I'll write about all the cool things I used to like about this community and talk about how it has changed for the worse. But I don't realize that by knocking the community, I'm basically insulting everyone who chooses to stay even if they weren't involved in [insert link for this weeks drama filled post]. I make people feel like they have to justify why they'd remain in such an evil community. After all, if I'm leaving, it has to be horrible. I make some general negative comments about the entire community, once again making us into a mono-faceted group of people just because we have one thing in common. Not like me, however because I'm different. I see the dark undercurrent beneath [livejournal community]. Obviously, livejournal is serious business to me. Because when you click the link titled, "leave community" it didn't make me write this post. No, I wanna leave with a BANG! I want to appear righteous. But here is the part I don't understand. Even if I'm polite and have several valid points, no one will care because goodbye posts are rude internet etiquette. So by being rude, I'm just as bad as the people I'm angry at. But keep a look out for me in the future! Because almost everyone who has written a goodbye post continues to lurk and eventually comes back a few months later, hoping the community has forgotten.

Now I will prepare to be baffled by the immensely negative response my post gets.

Signed, [livejournal community] member #278




—Loser with no life
 
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