May 13, 2014

Y’all know what I think of the Obama administration and its socialist agenda and outright incompetence. But, because pictures say a thousand words, here’s the evolution of American foreign policy through its administrations over the past sixty years:

Truman at Potsdam:

Kennedy meets Kruschev:

Nixon goes to China:

Carter arranges peace between Israel and Egypt:

Reagan and Brezhnev at Reykjavik:

And now? Ladies and gentlemen, meet the Obama administration’s foreign policy strategy. Call it #hashtag foreign policy. First, our State Department’s bold and assertive response to Vladimir Putin’s aggression in the Ukraine:

And, most recently, our the official U.S. response to the kidnapping of those school girls in Nigeria:

As George Will so succinctly put it:

“Are these barbarians in the wilds of Nigeria supposed to check their Twitter accounts and say, ‘Uh oh, Michelle Obama is very cross with us — we better change our behavior’?” Will said on Fox News Sunday.

“It’s an exercise in self-esteem,” he said of the practice. “I do not know how adults stand there, facing a camera, and say, ‘Bring back our girls.’”

Oh yeah, if I’m an enemy of America, freedom and democracy I’m definitely shaking in my boots. This country is truly being run by fools, a bunch of juvenile incompetents who have taken us all for the chumps we are for putting them in power in the first place.

God help us if our enemies ever take action against us.

Filed in: Politics & World Events by The Great White Shank at 01:02 | Comments Off on #Hashtag Foreign Policy
May 12, 2014

“I don’t know what to say. I don’t feel bad about the game, but mentally I’m just really soft right now. I’m having a hard time focusing on the shot. I’m having a hard time seeing the ball go in the hole. But the physical game doesn’t feel bad. I don’t feel bad about the way I’m hitting it. I don’t feel like the misses are bad. I haven’t driven the ball this well ever, for how I feel anyways, but getting the ball to the hole, getting the shots close, getting the putts to go, I just haven’t been able to do it. So I feel like it’s more of a mental issue and I’ll go home and see if I can work on it.”

Phil Mickelson, after missing the cut at THE PLAYERS. Here we are in mid-May, and Phil has yet to post a top-ten finish this year – proving, no matter how good you are, just how hard it is to play, and do so consistently, at the level professional golfers do, day in and day out.

“To win on Mother’s Day … we show our parents way too little. We always need some occasions to show them, which is what you realize when they’re not there anymore. So to win on those days … it adds a little bit of a nice thing to the whole week.

I think about her every day. I don’t need a Mother’s Day.”

— Martin Kaymer, after winning THE PLAYERS championship, speaking about the significance of winning on Mother’s Day and the fact his mother passed away (from cancer) six years ago. The way he played until Sunday’s rain delay was beyond impressive. Then, watching the drama unfold on the last three holes as he almost gave it all away, was as good a spectacle for television viewing as there is. Making that par on 17 from where his tee shot ended up is something that will be replayed at THE PLAYERS telecasts year after year.

“[Calling it a major] makes sense from a marketing standpoint. The tour wants to make every tournament matter and draw the best ratings possible. A simple way to do that is to label them as important. But prestige comes with an aura of exclusivity as well, and TPC Sawgrass will always have an element of that because it’s so unique.

It’s just not a major.”

SBNation’s Michael Jones, arguing – and with good reason – why THE PLAYERS should remain as it is. Not quite a major, but something just beneath that, for the sake of its own exclusivity, puts winning it in a very special category. I’m good with that.

“It was really good. I think the biggest takeaways were that I was gripping the club way too tight, was opening up with my upper body too early, and that I have to learn to swing more with my arms and hands. As the saying goes, over-analysis leads to paralysis, and those shanked warm-up shots a week ago left me questioning everything I was doing. He gave me a couple of simple drills to try when I’m at the range, and we’re both feeling confident that I’m not far away at all from where I need to be. All is good.”

— The Great White Shank, following his latest session with swing guru Alex Black.

“We extend our deepest sympathies to the friends and family of Ian at this time. Following consultation with the players and caddies involved, however, it has been decided that play should continue and the tournament should finish.”

— The European Tour’s official statement upon the news that Ian McGregor, a 52-year-old caddie on the bag of Alastair Forsyth, passed away on Sunday after suffering a heart attack on the 9th fairway, Forsyth’s last hole of the Madeira Islands Open. Play was suspended for over a hour after the incident, with Forsyth deciding to complete the hole despite the tragic news. My prayers go out to McGregor’s family and loved ones, and that his soul will rest in peace. At the very least, they can take comfort in the fact that he died doing what he loved; not many of us will be able to say the same. In that regard, he was one lucky man, indeed.

Filed in: Golf & Sports by The Great White Shank at 02:19 | Comments Off on Golf Quotables
May 11, 2014

Happy Mother’s Day to my wonderful mom and all the moms out there. The best gift you can give a mom besides telling her you love her and maybe some flowers and a card is something to make her smile. If this doesn’t do it, nothing will.

Filed in: Uncategorized by The Great White Shank at 03:46 | Comments Off on Happy Mother’s Day!
May 9, 2014

Thanks to Tikiyaki Orchestra for the title, I just think it’s cool.

There’s really no other point to this post except to the expound the virtue of the Mai Tai recipe at the legendary Wu Loon Ming, courtesy of Steve (at least I think it was his name) the bartender. Heck, even the bartender at the Wynn Las Vegas’ Country Club bar thought it was better than his own.

But I digress.

Anyways, last year I couldn’t find passion fruit juice so I tried to compensate with a combination of orange juice and guava juice. Big mistake. Fortunately, yesterday I found passion fruit juice at the local Fry’s and made Mai Tais for me and my main squeeze, and they tasted right out of the Wu. The only thing missing were the eggrolls, but what are you going to do?

Just so we’re all on the same page, here is Steve’s ultimate Mai Tai recipe:

Start with a chilled old fashioned-size glass
Muddle a few mint leaves with 1/2 of a lime cut into quarters
1/2 oz. orange curacao
Dash of Orgeat syrup
1 1/2 oz. of passion fruit juice (1 oz of orange juice and 1/4 oz. of guava juice OK can be substituted)
Add ice to top

Now comes the good part:

1/2 oz. of light rum (I prefer the Cruzan light rum)
1 1/2 oz. of dark rum (I prefer Meyers)
Garnish with a twist of anything colorful

Admire the marvelous dusky color before you stir and enjoy!

My recommendation is that frequent commenter Jana gather all the necessary materials together so we can share one over a Skype session next Monday, just before I hop a red-eye back home to Massachusetts for a week. Can’t wait for that.

Filed in: Uncategorized by The Great White Shank at 00:33 | Comments (4)
May 8, 2014

This is a pretty one…

“How fair doth Nature
Appear again!
How bright the sunbeams!
How smiles the plain!
The flow’rs are bursting
From ev’ry bough,
And thousand voices
Each bush yields now.
And joy and gladness
Fill ev’ry breast!
Oh earth!–oh sunlight!
Oh rapture blest!
Oh love! oh loved one!”
– Goethe, May Song

As is this one. Any poem that mentions rabbits is OK by me…

“Ah! Spring is here. The rabbits quit their dens,
The dormant grass begins once more to grow.
The trees release their airborne allergens.
It’s time to tune the Toro and to mow,
To fertilize and lime and thatch and seed
As-groveling on dirty, servile knees—
You pluck the dreaded dandelion weed
And rub your itching eyes and start to sneeze.
Wherever grass encroaches, you must edge,
And don’t forget to stir the compost heap
And trim the junipers’ unruly hedge,
While forfeiting a needed hour of sleep.
Those poets penning praise to spring and tillage
Are domiciled in lofts in Greenwich Village.”
– Bob McKenty, A Sonnet for Spring

Hat tip: egreenway.com

Filed in: Uncategorized by The Great White Shank at 00:57 | Comments Off on May Poetry
May 7, 2014

Whereas back home in Massachusetts May can be a dicey month filled with weather extremes, for us here in the Valley of the Sun, May is the first summer month. The pool hit 80 last week, and were it not for the serious mix of chemicals I threw into it this past weekend, I would have taken my first serious swim on Sunday when our outdoor thermometer hit 100 for the first time this year.

The front and back yards are ready for the serious heat. The queen palms have been given their magnesium feedings and are now getting a pail of water poured into their bowls every 2-3 days. Carmelo and I have our bushes trimmed and cleaned up so there’s not much more for anyone to do between now and October except cut the grass. I’ve also rearranged some of the whimsical Margaritaville signs and wind chimes out back to give it a bit of a fresher look. Pictures to come as soon as I figure out how to take and upload photos from our new LG phones.

The only thing left to do is recapture the Tiki bar area for recreational pleasure. I’ve had a tarp covering the area for the past few weeks as a way to inform the neighborhood cat we’re no longer open for business (and I do mean business!), and we’ve seen no sight of him since that time. In another couple of weeks or so I’ll remove the tarp and the top layer of sand in the areas where the cat was using, and then seriously water down the area to drain whatever urine smell that remains into the ground beneath. After that, I’ll replace the area with a fresh coating of sand, lay down on top of that some screen material, then cover that with a light coating of sand. I don’t think the cat will be very happy with that arrangement, even if he were to return.

All that’s left after that is to wait for the monsoon season.

Filed in: Uncategorized by The Great White Shank at 01:33 | Comments Off on Summer Prep
May 6, 2014

Hello, Goodboys Nation blog fans, this is Golf Channel’s Kelly Tilghman reporting from Gilbert, Arizona, home of Doug “The Great White Shank” Richard, who, given all the controversy surrounding this past Sunday’s post, invited me down for a one-on-one interview. Rather than being on the defensive and combative in the face of swirling controversy, I found this “Founding Father” of the Goodboys Invitational warm, engaging, and insightful. I hope you enjoy our interview.

KT: Great White Shank, it’s a pleasure to sit down with you.

TGWS: You can call me Shank, Kelly. Here, have a Mai Tai – I made it especially for you.

KT: Thanks. Your Sunday post about the state of your golf game nearly two months before the 2014 Goodboys Invitational sent shock waves through your camp, to the point where even your brother Dave suggested that your entire mental approach to the game needs to be re-evaluated. Your comment?

TGWS: You know, Kelly, there are always going to be doubters out there, as well as folks that attack something you write without understanding the whole context in which they were meant.

KT: For example?

TGWS: Well, for starters, the idea that I’m not enjoying the game when I’m not firing on all cylinders out there. Folks gotta understand that I’m perfectly capable of enjoying a round of golf with strangers even when I’m scrambling my butt off and trying to post a low number out there. Remember, working from home with just a couple of rabbits in the other room means that a round of golf for me is as much a social occasion as it is a test of my ability to take all the hard work I’ve been putting in on the driving range out to the golf course. It’s not one thing or the other, and I’m perfectly capable of doing both at the same time.

KT: What happened on the driving range at Papago, and – if you don’t mind me asking – why did a couple of shanked practice shots result in you losing your swing partly on Friday and having it carry into Saturday?

TGWS: Well, it was just the strangest thing. There I was, just putting a bunch of good swings together and was finishing off my session as I always do by hitting a couple of irons in preparation for the par 3s. Sometimes I’ll hit a 5 or 6-iron, sometimes it might be an 8 or a 9. In this case I had a 7-iron in my hand and hit a dead-ass shank. It surprised me more than anything else, so I grabbed a pitching wedge, took a couple of easy swings, and proceeded to shank that one as well. A minute later, I’m standing on the tee at a tricky par-5 and I’ve got all these negative thoughts running through my head – y’know, don’t go right, don’t hit into that waste area or pond, Hillary being elected President in 2016 – the kinds of negative thoughts your body doesn’t process well.

KT: In other words, what you don’t want to do instead of what you should be focused on…

TGWS: That’s right, just putting good swings on it and making the shots. But it wasn’t as if I was solely focused on that – after all, I was playing with three nice guys – a younger fellow and two others playing for money from the tips, so it was still good fun. A lot of work, but good fun.

KT: Because you were scrambling throughout the round…

TGWS: Oh, God, yes, like a big rat, and on Saturday as well! Probably more on Saturday, where I never found my swing at all. But that was still a great time as well, playing with probably the nicest guys I’ve ever hooked up with. It was like we were friends who had played together a dozen times before. They were single handicaps and here I am scrambling my butt off, pulling rabbits outta my hat around every green. Only 28 putts for the round. And even though I’m skulling drives, fairway woods, and hybrids, I get to 17 only two holes away from shooting in the mid-90s. Put my drive just off the fairway and the roof caved in. A couple of bad decisions and I make a ten. On 18, I really didn’t care and double-parred that hole as well. Shanked a 5-iron and a 3-hybrid. Still shot a 54…

KT: The big number you wrote about.

TGWS: Which is why I just had to head straight out to the driving range and try and exorcise the demons. You really don’t want a bad finish to pollute your head. So I hit balls until I got my swing back. [Laughs] At least until the next ball I hit. My Goodboys friends will probably laugh at this, but I feel as close as I’ve ever felt to shooting in the low 90s consistently. My short game is as good as it’s ever been, and I’m averaging between nine and ten holes every round at bogey or less. Four or five pars every round. Seems like I’m playing very good golf for fourteen holes and spitting the bit on the other four. That’s gotta stop, obviously, and when I’m finally able to break through that barrier I’m going to be a bogey golfer and staying that way until the end of Hillary’s second term, at least. I know it. I feel it. It’s just a matter of time.

KT: So how do you break through that barrier?

TGWS: It’s pretty simple: learn to hit my fairway woods and my hybrids with greater consistency and without fear. Those clubs are killing me right now, and there’s really no way of avoiding them. There are times when the shots are right there: I hit a fairway on a long par-5 and that opportunity for birdie is just staring you in the face, like Michelle Obama starin’ down Carla Bruni. And you have to find a way to embrace it. Out here in Arizona, you can shank or skull shots off folks’ houses and sub-division walls most of the time, but those New England courses, those Goodboys Invitational courses with tree-lined fairways, you’ve got to have a go-to club you can count on, and right now, let’s just say my hybrids and fairway woods are auditioning for a place in Palookaville.

KT: You’ve been criticized by some in your camp of being too score-focused, as opposed to recognizing you’re a twenty-seven handicap and just accepting it for what it is – you know, “you are what you are”. Your response?

TGWS: Some say the objective of golf is to put this little orange ball [holding up a Wilson orange 50] in the hole in as few strokes as possible. Hell, if I wanted to, I’d deep-six the hybrids and fairway woods and just go out there with ten clubs and hit 5-irons and pitching wedges all day. And I’m guessing there are some out there who think that’s exactly what I ought to do. But I can’t do that. This game is all about honor, integrity, and tradition, and by, golly, the good Lord willing, I’m going to master those clubs before this year’s Goodboys Invitational. And when I do, it’s the Long Island Expressway to bogey golf. You can bank the farm on it.

KT: Great White Shank, it’s been a pleasure.

TGWS: Same here, Kelly.

Filed in: Golf Quest by The Great White Shank at 00:22 | Comments (2)
May 5, 2014

The National Weather Service has been warning us about an El Nino cycle developing for this year, and if this is true then we folks in Arizona really do have an active monsoon season and winter to look forward to.

Of course, where most things in life are a blessing and a curse, wishing for an active monsoon season comes with its own risks, as the more active the monsoon, the greater the chances for severe thunderstorm activity and moist storms as opposed to the predominantly dry and dusty ones we’ve seen the past couple of years. I love thunderstorms as much as anyone else, but I find the older I get, the more I can do without the severe kind. I’ve got young queen palms in my backyard, and their sprouts need to be allowed to grow into big and full branches. Heavy thunderstorms tend to raise havoc with that.

And once you’re done with monsoon season, an active El Nino means more winter weather and wet storms coming off the Pacific. Those I don’t mind – in fact, I look forward to the first of those storms right around the first week of December when everyone is putting up their Christmas lights. Unfortunately, before and after winter storms come cold (at least for around here) temperatures, which means getting out the covers for all the flora and fauna in the back yard. It’s more of a nuisance than anything else, but the young queens are going to have to be wrapped in protective material as well.

At the very least, an active El Nino pattern brings with it real “weather” for us here in the Valley of the Sun. It’s a nice change from the usual, and it will be interesting to see how this year’s monsoon season evolves.

Filed in: Uncategorized by The Great White Shank at 00:42 | Comments Off on El Nino Rising
May 4, 2014

I’m fourteen months removed from my first golf lesson with Alex Black and before I go any further, let me just say that he has played a huge part in transforming my game. Unfortunately, Alex isn’t the one swinging the clubs, and I now find myself stuck in an awkward somewhere between the swing and game I used to have, and the one we’ve been cultivating together. For sure, the ability to hit real shots – the kind that create a sense of exhilaration and accomplishment – with greater regularity has been gratifying, especially considering the amount of work I’ve put in over the past year. But then I run into stretches where all the work I’ve been putting on seems to go for naught when I’m putting up the big number.

By big number, I’m talking triple bogey or higher. And while a big number on the occasional hole once or twice in a round isn’t going to hurt you too bad, a couple of additional quadruple bogies and quintuple bogeys will tear your round to shreds, destroying all the otherwise good work you have put in. And the problem I’m dealing with right now is the gradual influx and alarming return of the big number in a big way. No matter how many pars and bogeys you put up, a few (or more than a few) big numbers will wreck your round, and pronto.

For me, the big number never presents itself exactly the same way twice, but it usually involves not being able to get out of trouble once I’m in it, or getting into trouble courtesy of my 5-wood or the 3- and 4-hybrids – three clubs I just can’t seem to hit consistently. And the trouble doesn’t have to be like deep woods or water, it can lurk just a few paces off the fairway, like yesterday when, after a solid drive that ended up on dirt no more than a couple of yards off the fairway, I shanked a 5-wood into someone’s yard, then, taking a drop, pulled a 5-iron across the fairway where I had to take another drop after an unplayable lie. A mangled chip and two putts later, I’m staring at a quintuple bogey ten. On Friday, I had put my drive dead center of the fairway on a tight par-4, then shanked my 7-iron approach shot. Two chunky chips and four putts from twenty feet later, I turned a fairway hit into a quadruple bogey eight. And that was just two holes after I had posted a quintuple-bogey ten on the par-5 opening hole (don’t ask what happened there).

The problem with these big numbers – other than, of course, your ballooning score – is that they create tension and subconsciously force you to play defensive golf and take defensive swings to avoid making another big number, which in turn only increases the chances for more big numbers. Not to mention the fact that ultimately you’ll wear yourself down trying to avoid hitting bad shots when you should be trusting your swing and just letting it all happen naturally.

And yet, even with the big numbers, I know I’ve improved since working with Alex. The two 103s I put up on Friday and Saturday would have been 112s or better in pre-Alex times. Consider: on Friday my 103 featured nine holes where I played bogey or better against six holes with triple-bogey or worse; on Saturday (where my swing pretty much fell apart during my warm-up and I never really got it back), I had ten holes at bogey or better against four holes at triple or worse.

Clearly there is work left to do, but I’m not exactly sure where the problem lies. Certainly, I need to hit my longer clubs better, and I still have work to do on the course management front. What really bothers me is how I lost my swing: during my Friday warm-up at Papago Golf Course I had been hitting the ball great, then I shanked a 7-iron, then a pitching wedge. I have no clue where that came from (then again, who knows where the shanks come from, they’re just like a virus), but all of a sudden I found myself not trusting my swing any longer and trying to avoid shanking shots. I found my swing on the back nine, but then lost it again during Saturday morning’s warm-up at Trilogy Golf Club and never found it again during the whole round.

I was so frustrated that after Saturday’s round that I headed right back to the range and hit a large bucket just to free myself from all the negative thoughts. I made a couple of minor adjustments with my ball position and set-up, and got my swing working with all my clubs (including 5-wood and hybrids). Not sure how these changes will translate going forward, but there was no way I was going back home with my tail between my legs and me moaning, “I’ve lost my swing!”.

But that’s golf – once you think you have it all figured out you’re back at square one trying to put all the pieces back together. And with just a little over two months to go before the 2014 Goodboys Invitational, that’s not exactly the place I want to find myself in.

Filed in: Golf Quest by The Great White Shank at 02:09 | Comments (3)
May 2, 2014

I know my Mom and Dad an Auntie Marge and Uncle Don will laugh at this, but there are days when I really feel my age. Today my left foot and right foot took turns exchanging weird bouts of pressure pain where I’d have trouble walking on one foot, then it shifts to the other foot for a few hours, and then it goes back to the other one again. This on top of the fact that my tennis (actually, golf) elbow has really flared up again, and yesterday I threw out my back carting water to the queen palms.

But that doesn’t mean I’m not playing golf today.

I’ve always been the kind of guy that isn’t afraid to admit how much of a flawed human being I am – most certainly, God knows. I’ll also admit that, like my brother Dave and my late brother Mark (may he rest in peace), I’m not afraid to call a spade a spade and tell it like it is – no filter. Not sure who we got that from, and it hasn’t necessarily always served us well, but on the other hand no one can question what I think about things, one way or the other. My tongue (actually fingers), are an open book. You may agree or disagree, but you know I’m writing always from the heart.

I have a hard time with ambivalence, but that’s not what God put us on the earth for. If some college or university were to invite me to speak at their commencement, my speech would be a very short one, indeed: Be who you are, and as long as you don’t hurt anyone in the process, don’t be afraid to be yourself. And if anyone has a problem with that, tell them to go f… er, pound sand.

Which, to get to the point of today’s post, is why I would never be good at politics. I could never see myself like that phoney ass Jay Carney standing up in front of a group of reporters and lying my ass off on a daily basis with a straight face. It’s one thing to perpetrate a lie when you’re talking about congressional budgets, Barack’s latest golf outing, or his mooching wife bilking the taxpayers while living it up at some oh-so-trendy corner of the globe – I get that, it’s politics. But how on God’s earth could anyone – anyone– stand at a podium and lie with a straight face about events where our ambassador to Libya and three other heroes were left to die without any action whatsoever on the part of our miltary?

Maybe it’s just me, but I couldn’t do that. Maybe it takes a bigger – or smaller – man than I to do that. Obviously, Mr. Carney has no problem looking at himself in a mirror on a daily basis. That takes guts in my view.

There’s little question now that, whether it was President Obama, Secretary of Defense Leon Panetta, or Secretary of State Hillary Clinton, someone, or all of them, left innocent people hung out to die in Benghazi. You want to call me some dumb Republican conservative who won’t let go of a narrative? Go for it. But I happen to believe that the lives of four people mean something – to this country, and to the families, friends, and loved ones who still seek answers to what actually happened on that night twenty months ago. Perhaps Nancy Pelosi (D-Dingbat) can’t figure out why Republicans continue to focus on the events at Benghazi, but I can tell her why: because, you jerk, FOUR PEOPLE DIED THAT NIGHT, and not one person – NOT ONE – has been held accountable to date. That’s why.

As I’ve said before, no one died as a result of Watergate. Barack Obama, Leon Panetta, and Hillary Clinton have the blood of American innocents on their hands. And who, if anyone, will hold them accountable? John Hinderaker of Power Line blog, I think, knows who and what is behind this travesty:

Did Obama and Clinton make a cynical decision to let the defenders of the State Department’s facility in Benghazi die, because sending in reinforcements risked a bloodier, more politically dangerous conflict? Did they freeze up, and fail to make any decision at all? Or were they never even in the loop, as the emails suggest?

After Ted Kennedy drowned Mary Jo Kopechne at Chappaquiddick Island, the Kennedy family’s lawyers and other advisers held a conclave at the Kennedy compound in Hyannis Port to plot a survival strategy. It was reported that Teddy himself did not participate in the meeting. Instead, he was on the beach flying a kite: Teddy was considered too dumb to be of any use.

Are Barack and Hillary viewed the same way within the administration? Are they mere seat-warmers, considered too inept to be involved in serious decision-making? Are golfing and fundraising Obama’s only skills? Is Hillary useless in the clutch? If the Democrats think these questions are going away, they are mistaken. Obama doesn’t have to stand for election again, so maybe he can brazen it out. But if Hillary runs for president in 2016, the question everyone will want to know the answer to is: What did you do on the night of September 11, 2012?

I’ll tell you what they did, they left four people to die in a dusty, deadly, and bloody outpost. Like they said in The X Files, “the truth is out there”, and ultimately the truth will come out. And there’s nothing that shameless Jay Carney or Hillary Clinton is going to be able to do to refute HER utter incompetence that night, nor the blood that remains underneath her manicured fingernails.

You know, I keep thinking “what goes around, comes around”, but I’m not so sure anymore. I’m a dinosaur, living my life under a code of ethics and conduct that, while imperfect for sure, increasingly I find outdated and outmoded. How else to think in a world where people can just stand there with cameras watching and lie with impugnity and just get away it. It makes me sad, but it also makes me glad I’m at the age I am.

It makes me not want to even care anymore.

I think I’ll go play some golf.

Filed in: Politics & World Events by The Great White Shank at 00:31 | Comments Off on Dinosaur

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