Thoughts On The Dead

Musings on the Most Ridiculous Band I Can't Stop Listening To

Tag: donald trump (page 1 of 14)

#NOTMYWALL

  • Better than China’s.
  • WiFi, but just on the U.S. side.
  • Maybe a big mural of Trump and Jesus and a gun and Jesus again.
  • Difficult to phase or teleport through, in case there is a team of Mexican X-Men. (Bad X-Hombres!)
  • Should not topple over if leaned against by fat guy, even if he is very fat.
  • Alligators taped to Mexican side.
  • So thick that Sir Mix-A-Lot would hit that shit.
  • Embedded invisible fence within wall, and we put shock collars on all the Mexicans and also we make the Mexicans pay for their own shock collars.
  • Really, really, really mean dogs everywhere.
  • Every third sentry tower has a pitching machine cranked up to 90 mph hooked up a Raspberry Pi with pattern recognition software, and if you’re shaped like a Mexican then you get a fastball to the face.
  • Put the whole thing on wheels so we can move it a couple feet south every night; in a few years, we’ll be halfway to Durango.
  • Moat made out of:
    • Lava.
    • Used hypodermic needles.
    • All the shit from the alligators we taped to the Mexican side.
    • Boiling oil. (Estimated cost of keeping a a 2,000 mile-long, 20’x10′ river of oil at 400 degrees: all-the-money-in-the-world a month.)
    • C.H.U.D.s

On The Morality Of Dosing Trump

It should be noted that the following dialogue is both hypothetical and satirical in nature.

Should Trump be dosed?

No.

Well, that settles it.

It does.

It doesn’t. Defend your position.

I will argue first the categorical imperative, and then the historiochemical precedent.

Ooh. Calling your shots like Babe Ruth.

This ain’t my first rodeo.

Proceed.

Before I begin my arguments, I will first note that you shouldn’t do it because it’s, like, 100 years in federal prison.

So noted for the record.

The categorical: dosing people is wrong. It’s putting something in someone without their consent. It’s chemical rape.

But he sucks so bad.

Totally with you there, but a good deal of the reason for his suckiness is that he does stuff to people without their consent. This is a “two wrongs don’t make a right” situation.

Is there any situation in which dosing someone is acceptable?

Not a priori. The dosee can forgive the doser afterwards, but there’s never a time when it’s a moral act in and of itself.

What if you’ve got a bunch of friends who like dosing each other?

Then there’s an ongoing implied consent, and that would be fine. The group dosing strangers, however, would still be immoral.

What if a Grateful Dead doses you?

Like, Phil slips something in your grilled cheese at TXR?

Yeah.

Okay, there’s like one exception.

That would be awesome.

Totally.

But, Jesus: wouldn’t a little acid help? Couple thousand micrograms to shoot the evil out of the fucker?

And now we come to the second argument, which is historiochemical in nature.

Did you make that word up?

Obviously, but it’s self-explanatory. This whole “dose Trump” nonsense is based upon an unbelievably shaky premise: LSD turns people good.

That’s a bit glib.

Is it? Someone’s gonna give the Turnip a great wallop of tie-dye juice, and the next morning he’s gonna be in sandals converting us to solar energy?

A little.

Right. You know who took a shitload of acid?

I have a feeling your example is not going to be a kind and loving man.

He was a family man.

Manson?

Manson. Know who else?

Who?

Steve fucking Bannon. People want to dose the nasty fatso to make him compassionate? Well, the nasty fatso sitting right next to him ate as much acid as the next Deadhead, and he’s a literal monster. Nothing about this idea makes any sense.

It would be fun to watch, though.

It would be the Pay-Per-View event of the century. Still not right.

Aw.

Sorry, buddy.

Agencies Eliminated By The Trump Budget Plan Without Research

African Development Foundation I would suppose this helps Africa in its development.

Appalachian Regional Commission Without Research doesn’t mean I can’t half-remember stuff I read in the paper: this is for poor people who live in hollers with black lung and whatnot. As you might assume, the area has a Republican representative and he couldn’t have gotten on the phone to the reporter fast enough to say that the budget was unacceptable. This will be a theme.

Chemical Safety Board Clearly nonessential.

Corporation for National and Community Service No idea at all, but it certainly sounds noble. Why is a government agency a corporation, though?

Corporation for Public Broadcasting I don’t get why this is a corporation, either. I’m sticking to Without Research, but I think PBS is some sort of public/private scheme that combines the worst features of both worlds. Big Bird. Fucking Big Bird, man.

Delta Regional Authority This the same as the Appalachian thing, but for the Mississippi Delta. If you were to have a poverty-off, Appalachia and the Mississippi Delta would make the quarter-finals. (Indian Reservations will always win the poverty-off.)

Denali Commission The SUV or the mountain? If it’s the car, then I agree with the budget. If it’s the mountain, I do not.

Institute of Museum and Library Services Museums and fucking libraries. No more museums and libraries so we can go from having the largest military the world’s ever seen to a little bit more than that.

Inter-American Foundation Is the government looking inside my skin and bones? I did not consent to that, Mister Government. Get your foundation out from inside of this American. I hope the Allfather cuts your money off, and then your noses.

U.S. Trade and Development Agency I would imagine this agency is tasked with promoting American goods and services all over the world, and upon cheating and googling it, I am right.

Legal Services Corporation Fuck it: I looked this one up, too. Lawyers for the poor. Everyone go to their nearest railroad tracks and check for women tied down by the Trump Administration. We’re ten minutes away from Trump donning a black cloak and retelling the Tragedy of Darth Plagueis the Wise.

National Endowment for the Arts The fucking arts!

National Endowment for the Humanities The fucking humanities!

Neighborhood Reinvestment Corporation Another corporation. I totally don’t get it. Does it have to do with how the organization is structured? And here’s the scary question: you think Turnip’s got any idea, either?

Northern Border Regional Commission Wall.

Overseas Private Investment Corporation Okay, I looked this one up, too, and it seems like a CIA front.

United States Institute of Peace What’s the budget for the Institute of Peace? Twenty grand a year? Do they even get a building, or do they have to meet in Starbucks and steal the WiFi? Is the Institute of Peace also the Grateful Dead Ticketing Office? This cut is just pure, petty spite; I can’t imagine anything meaner and smaller than this.

United States Interagency Council on Homelessness I stand corrected.

Woodrow Wilson International Center for Scholars Wilson was a racist prick and a loser, so I might be okay with this one, too. On the other hand, if scholars do not exist, then I can’t make fun of them. Solution: Barack Obama International Center for Scholars.

What Other Programs That Feed The Elderly Have Been Cut From The Budget Besides Meals On Wheels?

  • Snacks in Backpacks.
  • BLT’s on ATV’s.
  • Peking Duck by Leaking Truck.
  • Subway on the Subway.
  • Feasts on Beasts. (Pizzas strapped to bears; bears set loose in old age homes.)
  • Delicatessen from a Pedestrian.
  • Scones from Drones.
  • Fags in Bags. (This is a British program that brings cigarettes to the housebound; I don’t know why we’re paying for it, and I salute Allfather Trump for cutting it.)
  • Egg Béarnaise on Segways.
  • Lamb Blintzes in Ambulances.
  • Gyros from Gyros. (Old-timey helicopters throw Greek food at old people from 500 feet up.)
  • Hotpot by Slingshot.

An Inexplicable Intersectionality

Can a Trump supporter be a Deadhead?

Oh, piss off with your politics.

This is important.

It’s the opposite of important. This topic is portant.

No, “im” isn’t a negating prefix in “important;” it’s part of the root.

Suck my root.

We’re doing this whether or not you want to.

Fine. Could you repeat the question?

Can a–

Yes.

You didn’t need me to repeat the question. You just wanted to interrupt me.

Also yes. I assume we’re having this discussion because of today’s article about Steve Bannon being a Deadhead?

Correct.

Yes, a Trump Supporter can be a Deadhead.

How?

It’s a free country, and there’s no secret handshake.

Yes, I’m aware there are neither rules nor laws forbidding such a thing, but what I’m asking is how someone can reconcile two such diametrically-opposed worldviews in order to be a fan of both Trump and the Dead

By completely misunderstanding either Trump or the Dead.

Ah.

That’s the theological reading, though, and rests on ferreting out unknowable thoughts and intentions. A doxological view would only judge actions. Go on tour for a few years, pull the lever for the liar, and there you go: Trump-loving Deadhead.

I prefer to baselessly speculate about people’s hidden agendas.

Me, too. Let’s do that.

I mean, it’s no fun to be so cut-and-dried.

Right, plus we haven’t declared anyone fake Scotsmans yet.

Oh, let’s do that now. Are you saying Trump supporters can’t be real Deadheads?

What’s a real Deadhead?

Someone who loves the band.

I don’t see the disconnect.

Wait. Somone who gets the band.

Ahhhh. I have no idea what that means.

A Deadhead understands the message of the Grateful Dead.

They had a manifesto?

No, they had a philosophy. A belief system. A half-baked cosmology. What about the lyrics?

The ones that Hunter made a point of never explaining?

There’s a correct interpretation of them.

Does this “correct” interpretation happen to be your interpretation?

Dude, I’m just fucking with you.

I mean, really.

You can argue about the precise theme of the Dead’s existence, but “Sell off the country while fomenting racial hatred and restarting the War on Drugs” was definitely not it.

What about Steve Bannon?

Steve Bannon is a racist beanbag chair full of stubble and rum.

What about him being a Deadhead?

First of all, Stevie is just one in a long, long, long line of Deadhead cult leaders. He’s that asshole from the Church of Unlimited Devotion, but instead of reading too much mysticism, he read too much history. The band has always attracted messianic dudes. (It’s always dudes.)

And second?

Second is that sometimes awful people have wonderful taste in music. Idi Amin was into The Stooges way before anyone else. Practically discovered Elvis Costello. They said he had the coolest record collection in Uganda. Of course, they had to say that or he’d throw them to crocodiles.

Focus.

Now I’m picturing Idi Amin as a record nerd forcing his friends to listen to his import singles.

Focus.

I’m back. Besides, Steve might not be the worst Deadhead ever, we don’t know.

He’s worse than Ann Coulter. Or the bow-tie dipshit. Same category, but Bannon’s got actual power.

True, true. Even before his new job, he would have been up there in the stratosphere of Embarrassing Deadheads, but now he’s clearly the winner. That wasn’t my point, though. There was almost certainly a Tour Strangler.

A what?

A serial killer who strangled his victims along the route of the Dead’s schedule. Tour Strangler. Gotta admit, it’s a great cover: the only trick is that you can’t ever murder any fellow ‘heads because that will bring too much heat. You would have to strangle, like, nuns or something. When the cops find Sister Crinoline’s body the next day, you’re already on your way to Hampton or Alpine Valley or wherever.

Why does your mind work this way?

I’m creative.

You’re saying that the only thing keeping Steve Bannon from the title of “World’s Worst Deadhead” is the imagined existence of a serial killer in a Microbus?

It’s not imagined. I now believe very strongly in the Tour Strangler.

Stop that.

It should be noted that Steve Bannon has not killed anyone yet, unless we’re holding him responsible for the botched SEAL raid and all the drone attacks.

I think we should.

Oh, then Steve Bannon has killed dozens of people.

Noted. Here’s the question: what draws assholes to the Dead?

Same thing that draws saints. The music.

I just don’t understand where the two spheres overlap.

There’s a couple points of intersection. Conspiracy fuckers love the Dead, and they love Trump. Money assholes, I suppose: can’t swing a cat on Wall Street without hitting some turd in a tie-dye and a red cap. Aging white men.

Aging white men.

Nitrous Mafia.

They’re not Deadheads. They’re violent parasites who stand outside concerts.

Definitely Trump folks, though.

I am not as sure of anything as I am sure that the Nitrous Mafia went for Trump in the election and still has his back.

The truth is that people are fucky squirrels, and they can juggle ideas in their head so that they never touch one another. The most pious priest can believe that Jesus preached to suffer the little children, and then make little children suffer. A slave owner can write a document guaranteeing freedoms. You ever see how many nurses smoke? Folks can cram all sorts of non-agreeable bullshit into their brains.

So a Deadhead can be a Trump supporter?

There is no litmus for Deadheadom, nor is there a purity test. Unlike certain parties, Deadheads do not believe in extreme vetting.

Can a Trump Supporter be an Enthusiast?

Fuck, no.

Why not?

I said so.

The Daily Recounting 3/6/17

Another big day, Enthusiasts: they’re all big days when you come to the end of them. Just the past 24 hours–you know the format–we’re just discussing the past 24 hours, and as usual I will not be linking to anything in hopes of discouraging you from viewing TotD as any sort of news source. Please do not get your news from me.

Let’s start with the flunkies and work our way up to the copper-colored comrade.

People used to not know Ben Carson was an idiot; in fact, the exact opposite was believed. He was (and still is, I suppose) a goddamned brain surgeon, but apparently it doesn’t take a rocket scientist to be a brain surgeon. The Republicans always have one black friend just like in sitcoms. Over the years, there’s been J.C Watt, and Allen West, and Herman Cain.

Oh, yeah, and Omarosa works at the White House now.

I know I didn’t break my paragraph right, but I thought maybe that sentence should sit all by itself in the void so that there would be nothing to distract you from it.

Anyway, he ran for president this year and behaved in exactly the same buffoonish way as J.C., Allen, and Herman did when they stood for the Republican nomination. It’s almost as if the only black people who join the Republican party are shitheads. (My favorite Ben Carson moment of the campaign was his claim that the pyramids were used for grain storage. Does he know we’ve been inside the pyramids, and that they’re not hollow? Has he never seen a grain silo? Every society that has ever grown grain figured out the grain solo very early on: first, they simply piled the grain up, but then it rained and the smart guy in the village said, “We should put the grain indoors,” and then the dumb guy in the village said, “You mean we should build a pyramid?” and then the smart guy got eaten by a sabre-toothed ostrich and the dumb guy went on to have many children who are our ancestors.)

But, while campaigning, he didn’t insult the paper-skinned piss-pot, so Benny got himself appointed to head up the Department of Housing and Urban Development. Dr. Carson has no background in public policy, nor experience leading a large organization, but he has criticized HUD repeatedly for enforcing anti-discrimination laws, so he fits in with the administration’s motif of hiring foxes to guard henhouses.

Today, he gave a speech in front of his department in which he described slaves as immigrants.

And I’ll just let that sentence sit there, too.

Capitol Hill was busy today, as well. The House leadership released their new health care plan; it contains neither health, nor care. Since the implementation of the Affordable Care Act, also known as Obamacare, the GOP has tried to kill it: they voted over 50 times to repeal or alter it, but like the dog that finally catches that damned Honda, they now have no idea what to do and have fallen back on their default: wanton cruelty in the service of the rich.

The new plan is dead on arrival: the more radical Tea Party assholes of the party think it’s not mean enough; the Senate hates it; and–most importantly–public support is growing for the ACA.

Also, fuck Paul Ryan.

Even if the new plan were passable, it may not be possible to get anything done for a little while: Republicans on the Hill have started to back away quietly from the White House and anything labeled “Trumpcare” might be toxic during their next campaign. Folks like Trey Gowdy and Jason Chaffetz–two soulless party hacks–are refusing to defend the president vis-a-vis the wiretapping thing.

Holy shit, we haven’t even gotten to the Muslim Ban yet. (Remember: they are doing this on purpose. They’re trying to overload you with bullshit. Plus: treacherous and shitty as the Congressional Republicans are, they’re not stupid. (Okay, Louie Gohmert is stupid.) But there are some real bright guys in that huddle. They know they only have so long to milk this cow.)

Okay, so: Muslim Ban 2: Electric Babaganoush. Second sura, same as the first. Once more, with extreme vetting. Whatever you want to call it, the president issued his updated Executive Order this morning; we are told it is of vital national security, which is why it doesn’t start for ten days. Oh, and it was ready to be signed last Tuesday, but the bawling tyrant decided to hold off because he was getting good reviews from his speech.

(Remember his speech? And how presidentially he read the sentences?)

Again: I’m not getting into the details because there are better places to find those. Here is the summary: same thing as the last one, but written at the top of the order–in very large letters–is “NOT a Muslim ban.” It might also be noted that since Captain Apocalypse and his Four Horsemen (War, Pestilence, Famine, and Steve Bannon) took office, no terrorist acts have been performed by any immigrant from the nations mentioned in the ban, while Trump supporters have shot three Indian-Americans.

Oh, and the White House tried to strongarm Planned Parenthood because it’s been a few days since they were shitty specifically to women.

Is that it? NO, fuck no, but I need to go back to the semi-fictional universe where everything makes sense.

This was the 46th day of our national nightmare; may we wake up soon. Courage.

The Daily Recounting 3/5/17

The Federal Bureau of Investigations was founded in 1908; the Department of Justice was created by Ulysses S. Grant in 1870. (You thought they were in the Constitution, didn’t you?) The FBI are basically national cops; they investigate crime. The DoJ is basically the national DA’s office; they prosecute the offenders. This is their story from today.

The FBI is led by a guy named James Comey, whom you may recall won raves for his portrayal of “The Loosest Cannon In The World” during the election; he sent a confusing, absurd, unprecedented, and roundly criticized letter to Congress regarding Hillary Clinton’s e-mails (remember those?) two weeks before Election Day, and it was one of the immense cascade of discrete pieces of bullshit that tipped the race in favor of a slumlord from Queens with scotch tape on his tie.

However, his record is not one of an ideologue hack: he was one of the few in the Bush Administration to oppose torture, plus he refused to sign off on the NSA’s domestic spying program, believing it unconstitutional. (I’ll recap for the Younger Enthusiasts and the older, more forgetful Enthusiasts: This was 2004, and Comey was acting AG because John Ashcroft–a man so foul and loathsome that he lost a Senate race to a dead guy–was in the hospital. Upon Comey’s refusal, Andy Card (White House Chief of Staff) and Alberto Gonzalez (White House counsel) drove to the hospital and badgered Ashcroft in his sick-bed. Comey then followed them to the hospital, so he and Ashcroft’s wife could physically toss the two men out of the room.)

So, today–remember, The Daily Recounting is only about the past 24 hours–Comey asked the Department of Justice to publicly refute the president’s claims that President Obama had ordered wiretaps on Trump Tower. The Department of Justice is run by a guy named Jeff Sessions, who is a short, weak, ugly man who believes in the inherent superiority of his genes, but Comey did not make the request to him because Jeff has recused himself from anything having to do with Russia since he got caught perjuring himself about it.

Got all that?

In simpler terms: America’s top cop asked the attorney general to confirm that the president is a liar.

The ball is now in the DoJ’s court, and they can do one of two things: say that there were no wire taps in Trump Tower, which means the president’s a liar; or say that there were, which means a federal judge saw enough evidence of collusion with a foreign power to grant a warrant.

And where was The Idiot? Golfing in Florida, of course, because he is a 70-year-old man and that’s what they do.

Good luck, and god bless America.

A Day In Our Life

The secret to immortality, at least until he gets us all killed, is having Donald Trump as the president, because every day feels like a million years; he is the Teddy Roosevelt of incompetent disgraces: he packs so much into 24 hours. Remember when every limpdick fuckhead on the teevee elbowed each other out of the way to call him “presidential” because he managed to give a speech without melting down? (You know who gave speeches? No, not Hitler. Me. Stood up in front of my third grade class and read the Gettysburg Address. Giving speeches is not all that impressive.) Remember that?

THAT WAS FOUR DAYS AGO. Seems like months, right? And maybe you’re saying, “Yes, TotD, we know about the perjury thing with the AG.” I would say to you, “Keep up, slopkins.” There’s something new today, because there’s something new every fucking day with this guy.

TotD presents the first (or only) of what will (or might or might not) become a running segment:

The Daily Recounting.

(NOTE: Just the past 24 hours. Literally only the past 24 hours. And I’m probably not going to link to any news sites or anything: this is just a summary, and both you and I know that you should not be relying on me for the news.)

Very early this morning, Donald Trump was left unsupervised for ten minutes and started what will most likely be the worst political crisis since Watergate. He also insulted Arnold Schwarzenegger.

This is what the president tweeted–and if the phrase “This is what the president tweeted” doesn’t make you want to cry until you shit yourself, then I don’t think I can hang out with you–this morning.

If you put aside the fact that presidents are bound by statute from ordering wiretaps and the fact that wire tapping someone would be Nixonian rather than McCarthyism; if you put aside the fact that meeting ambassadors is what the president does, and that 22 times in 8 years sounds about right; if you put aside the dreadful use of quotes for emphasis that shows him for the thickwit he is and–in my estimation–should be grounds for impeachment on their own; if you put all these aside, then there’s nothing really left to discuss.

Except for the fact that President Trump–it hurts my fingers to type that–has backed himself into a golden corner. There are only two options now: either there was a legitimate surveillance operation authorized by the FISA court, or President Obama is some sort of were-Nixon and a full moon came out last November, causing Obama to start ordering illegal wiretaps.

(Also: I guaran-fucking-tee you that the ninny thinks men in ski masks broke into Trump Tower and physically planted tiny microphones all over.)

Moreover, by publicly commenting on the investigation, Dumb Donald might have declassified the investigation

“Very sacred.” I wish there were a Hell, I truly do. He’d be down on the ninth level with Judas and Brutus and Cassius, and he’d be eaten by Satan forever and ever, and though I would necessarily be in Hell to witness this, my heart would reside in Heaven with the Lord.

“Tapp.” Y’know what? I don’t care if there’s a Hell or a Heaven: I just want to blow my brains out. This idiot thinks Gene Hackman is sitting outside in a van with a pair of headphones on.

Now: this is real. He’s lying about all the details, but the fact of the investigation is inarguable; the White House counsel spent today desperately trying to get ahold of the order. How do we know this? Because someone in the White House counsel’s office leaked it, most likely while their boss was still on the phone.

I told you he insulted Arnold.

What Else Does Donald Trump Not Realize Is Complicated?

He also seemed to express surprise at the complexity of the reform process. “I have to tell you, it’s an unbelievably complex subject,” Trump said. “Nobody knew that health care could be so complicated.” – Politico, 2/27/17

  • Feynman equations. (“Fermions go this way, bosons go that way. What’s so tough?”)
  • Raising children. (“Wife does it. Easy!”)
  • The digestive system of a panda. (“Bamboo goes in, poop comes out. What’s there to understand?”)
  • Gravity’s Rainbow. (“It’s about war and fucking.”)
  • The Hypertext Transfer Protocol. (“That’s cyber? Pssh. Ten-year-olds can do it.”)
  • Rocket science. (“It’s not brain surgery.”)
  • Brain surgery. (“It’s not rocket science.”)
  • Running a state-wide chain of supermarkets. (“Keep the place clean. Number one rule for a supermarket. Number two? Hot cashiers. After that, it all takes care of itself.”)
  • Organic chemistry. (“Organic, very organic. That’s what I’m about, organic. Great at the organic.”)
  • Bridge, card game. (“You know there’s a move in that game called the trump? Strong move.”)
  • Bridge, large object. (“Some hang on cables, some you put on things. You know: pylons, whatever. Simple.”)
  • The history of Chinese Manichaeism. (“Not tough!”)
  • The Dunning-Kruger Effect. (“Very basic stuff. I understand the Dunning-Kruger Effect completely. No one understands it better than me.”

A Call For Balance

The Right is right.

We–those of us at ill-ease with the current situation–have been upbraided since the election for our tone. It is your condescension, as the line goes, that forced us to vote for Donald Trump, and your current outrage and derision that inspires us to maintain our support. You have not honestly examined our concerns.

Furthermore, we are accused of being one-sided. Of not listening to alternative viewpoints. Elevating one view over another

Perhaps they are correct.

So, to remedy this, we must investigate the needs of these Americans. But–in keeping with the second point–we should also look into the lives of those who do not support him.

Let us send a reporter to a town 300 miles outside Chicago and ask about the violence in the city, and then to Chicago and ask someone who actually lives there and knows what’s going on.

A conversation with a Trump voter who supports the rollback of protections for transgendered students, but has never met a transgendered person, and a teenager who is now afraid to go to the bathroom at school.

Interview a man who believes Islam is incompatible with western civilization, and take his concerns seriously; give equal time to the Iranian computer nerd who does IT for a mid-level accounting firm in Cleveland, and now does not know if he can visit home, or whether he will be thrown out of the country.

Inquire–gently, gently–about a woman’s glee at the death of Obamacare, and then visit her neighbor with the pre-existing condition.

Sit with a Trump voter on the couch and hold them tight to your bosom and tell them it will be all right. But also sit with the guy from Guatemala or Ecuador who snuck in because the American Way of Life was, is, and always will be dependent on a bonded underclass and he made the terrible decision to be born there instead of here.

Talk to someone who doesn’t see what the big deal with Russia is, and then ask journalist Vladimir Kara-Murza oh wait you can’t because Putin had him killed this month.

So let us be kind to those who are happy at the things Trump is doing, but let’s not forget the people those things are being done to.

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