The Time Has Come (the Walrus said) Archives


We’ve been watching “The Trip” on ABC.

(FYI this is a BBC production a couple of years back… things take a while to make it to the bottom end of the planet.)

This is one of those TV shows that The Lady Of The House just won’t watch – probably on the grounds that life is too short, or it’s more fun to much on ‘andful of broken glass.

The Chaps and I enjoy it though, in my case in a kind of masochistic and slightly horrified manner. I know it is supposed to be comedy, and some parts are hilarious. But it’s also kind of sad and horrifying – a parable of middle aged men and the things that amuse them. Perhaps that’s how I look to others. ~Shudder~ I still don’t know if the foibles and sadness are intentional or were an accidental consequence of the partly scripted, partly ad-libbed production. Whichever… it provokes a very mixed reaction.

The most amusing part was the Michael Caine impersonation in episode 1 (yours to recap on iView for a little longer) and available from Mr YouTube

The original blowing the doors off.

And just for the curious, Michael Caine impersonating himself.


For some reason this just came back to me…

Many years ago I worked at a place where we were writing lots of software. So we had a big tractor-feed sprocket-drive line printer which took fan-fold paper. The kind of thing you never see any more. In spite of this I can still instantly recall that there are 66 lines / page, and 132 columns / page. Why we retain useless facts like this when they are no longer important baffles me.

Anyhow, this was a mechanical pin-style ink-and-ribbon printer. That means that characters were formed by little pins pushing against the ribbon to make an impression on the paper. The correct arrangement of pins, and moving the print head fast means that these thing could work at a fair clip and even though using a ribbon and plain paper they could print almost anything. This particular machine was also extremely noisy, and when placed on a table it would shake that table violently and threaten (like my old washing machine) to walk across the room. The only saving grace with such appliances is that escape is foiled when they pull their power cable from the wall socket.

Anyhow, this printer was made by Brother – at that time not anywhere as well known as they are today. A Brother printer was something of a novelty. What next, Sister Scanners?

Enough of the tangents. I used to always refer to this printer as the Hallelujah Brother.

This used to really annoy one of the other people on the staff who was a very fervent Christian. Of course, such objections never made me stop saying it.

Does this make me bad?


For something completely different to the previous post, although it is a piece of blatant advertising…

This is humourous.

Wherever I Wish

This one came from Ken at work. Worth passing on.


A Department of Water Resources representative stops at a Longreach farm and talks with an old farmer. 

He tells the farmer, ‘I need to inspect your farm for your water allocation.’

The old farmer says, ‘Okay, but don’t go in that field over there.’

The Water representative says, ‘Mister, I have the authority of the Federal Government with me. See this card? This card means I am allowed to go WHEREVER I WISH on any agricultural land. No questions asked or answered. Have I made myself clear? Do you understand?’ 

The old farmer nods politely and goes about his work. 

Later, the old farmer hears loud screams and spies the Water Rep running for his life and close behind is the farmer’s bull. The bull is gaining with every step. The Rep is clearly terrified, so the old farmer immediately throws down his tools, runs to the fence and yells at the top of his lungs….. 

‘Your card! Show him Your card!

How to tell if in management

Once upon a time, in a nice little forest, there lived an orphaned bunny and an orphaned snake.

By a surprising coincidence, both were blind from birth. One day, the bunny was hopping through the forest, and the snake was slithering through the forest, when the bunny tripped over the snake and fell down.

This, of course, knocked the snake about quite a bit. “Oh, my,” said the bunny, “I’m terribly sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt you. I’ve been blind since birth, so, I can’t see where I’m going. In fact, since I’m also an orphan, I don’t even know what I am.”

It’s quite ok,” replied the snake. “Actually, my story is as yours. I too have been blind since birth, and also never knew my mother. Tell you what, maybe I could slither all over you, and work out what you are so at least you’ll have that going for you.”

“Oh, that would be wonderful” replied the bunny. So the snake slithered all over the bunny, and said, “Well, you’re covered with soft fur, you have really long ears, your nose twitches, and you have a soft cottony tail. I’d say that you must be a bunny rabbit.”

“Oh, thank you, thank you,” cried the bunny, in obvious excitement. The bunny suggested to the snake, “Maybe I could feel you all over with my paw, and help you the same way that you’ve helped me.”

So the bunny felt the snake all over, and remarked, “Well, you’re smooth and slippery, and you have a forked tongue, no backbone and no balls. I’d say you must be either a team leader, supervisor or possibly someone in senior management.”

Better and better

101 Uses For a John Howard just gets better and better.

Check the latest entry: Green Machine.

I’m especially tickled by:

… there is a less dangerous source of power generation based on the principle of the Howard backflip. Once Johnny was hooked up to the generator with the monitor showing a continuous feed of opinion polls, the torque generated by the process of the little guy changing his story could power the planet.

Eventually, cloning and miniaturisation techniques would make possible the mass-production of the internal Howard engine, bringing an inexhaustible supply of energy to all humanity that, as long as the soundproofing was perfect, would be entirely free of toxic emissions.

Todays blatant rip-off – APEC

I found this rather amusing, especially Condi Rice:

Ripped off from Crikey (again):

Barry Everingham writes:

Our DFAT mole has reported that things in Canberra got very nasty last week when the spotlight was turned on our Second Lady and Lord Downer of Baghdad and Kabul following the American First Lady’s call to Janette saying she wouldn’t be coming down – I got a pinched nerve in my neck honey and my doctor said don’t fly.

Janette went spare, according to the mole, and she sent for the Man of Steel and her instructions were clear — fix this now.

Our Lame Duck leader in turn sent for Lord Downer and his instructions were very clear — get Condi on to this.

Damn and blast said LDPM. What if the Lame Duck President pulls out too? There would be more withdrawals than on Tony Abbott’s honeymoon. His lordship giggled with uncontrolled delight – “Yes sir,” he said to John. “Condi and I can talk about my two weeks with her when she showed me her country.”

LDPM’s patience was running thin by now – Janette hadn’t let up, the Embassy in Washington reported there was a real possibility Dubya wouldn’t make the trip either and without him the whole re-election campaign, called APEC, would be a flop.

“Lex,” said John. “Try to get a grip. Janette wants Laura and I need George. Tell me they are both getting ready for the trip.”

Condi alas was no help. “Get a grip (that phrase again) honey chile. Laura aint able to fly and the Massa ain’t decided whether he will or not. Baby, you’ll be the first to know,” she told his lordship, who by now was over the moon. And he was taking a grip, though probably not in the way Howard and Rice had in mind.

Meanwhile, back at Kirribilli House Janette was fuming. Her last hurrah was quickly turning into a disaster and her own doctor told her that as Air Force One was the size of football field, Laura could move around with ease, notwithstanding her neck.

At the time of writing, his lordship’s pleas had fallen on deaf ears – Laura will not be subjected to four days of campaigning against Maxine in Bennelong, the Lame Duck President looks like dropping in, Sydney is a total disaster, Janette won’t talk to John, Downer is still smirking and giggling and through it all Kevin Rudd is convinced there is a God after all.

Tape measure

This one, from XKCD, has a perverse appeal :)

Testing, testing

At work we employ quite a few testers. Their job is to test stuff, mainly software, to make as sure as possible that it’s all OK before release to customers and the great public.

One of the software developers found / came up with this (thanks Daniel):

Guy goes into a doctor’s office.

“Doctor,” he says, “my whole body hurts! Look at this,” and pokes himself in the shoulder with his finger .. “Ow!”.

Then he pokes himself in the knee, belly, cheek, and thigh, “Ow, Ow, Ow, Ow!”.

Doctor says, “You’re a software tester, aren’t you?”.

Guy says, “Yeah! How’d you know that?”.

Doctor says, “Your finger is broken.”

HTBAWW in 6 easy steps

How to be a Wine Wanker in 6 easy steps

What’s the difference between…

A normal person and a scientist / engineer ?

The Wine and Pizza Tour down South

Being twenny years and all that since getting hitched, t’other ‘alf and I decided to do something special – as in go away for a couple of days without the little gentlemens.

Living close to the Barossa means it was out of the question. When you are only 40 minutes from a really good wine region, there is only so much before it’s time to go somewhere else.

So we booked a B&B at McLaren Vale, took Friday off on leave, made arrangements with Grandma for the care and feeding of the chaps, and took off for a weekend of food and wine.

First stop, seeing as we had to go pretty much via Adelaide anyhow, was the central market to load up on cheese, bread, a bit of fruit and so on. Somebody had beautiful Roma tomatoes for about $1.50 / kg. A screaming bargain. Shame we were going away or I would have bought a whole lot to do the Italian tomato sauce thing.

We got a very nice mild goats cheese, a strong sticky squashy cheese, salami, sun-dried olives (mmmmmm), and a few other goodies.

Then off through the horrors of the drive South. I’m pretty disgusted at the road system to the South of Adelaide. It’s an unplanned, slow-moving shambles – and this was at midday!

Made it finally to McLaren Vale and just had to try a few wee drinkies here or there. Some very nice wines come from this region and there were no disappointments.

After checking in to the place we were staying at, and mooching around a bit, come sunset we decided to head to Willunga and try out Russell Jeavons pizza’s. This place is a legend. They used to only open Friday nights – but now they do Saturday as well if things are busy. The only sign is a battered bit of metal with something that looks written on in texta. It took 4 drives past to find the place, not helped by the large sign outside saying “Minko Wines”! The vast number of parked cars was a bit of a giveaway, though. Trouble was, without a booking, we had no chance.

Sun setting over the vines…

Back instead to McLaren Vale, where Oscars diner came to the rescue. They do pizza too! Oscars sorted us out with a small pizza each. Now how is this for a pizza:

  • Mediterranean: roast pumpkin, roast capsicum, eggplant, caramelised onion, rocket and fetta. Gee was this good!
  • Moroccan: braised lamb, roasted eggplant, Spanish onion, tzatziki and citrus zest. Again, very nice.

All this accompanied by a couple of glasses of sparkling Shiraz from the Settlement Wine Company, which went down very well indeed.

She Who Must Be Obeyed was sucked in by sticky date pudding for desert and had to be restrained from licking the plate clean.

And so to Saturday. We’ve been told many times to go to the Willunga farmers market, held every Saturday morning.

I was skeptical but came away surprised and with the wallet a lot lighter. Good olive oil, delicious lemon tarts, and many, many more things for sale. If we had been going straight home we could have filled the car several times over. Perhaps it’s a good thing we had another night to stay. How about beautiful peaches for $1.10 / kg? Freshly made cheeses, freshly baked bread, vegetables… And more.

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(Click to make ‘em bigger)

And then, more wine tasting. After all, it is wine region! Stand-outs:

  • Fox Creek. We tried the entire list from top to bottom. Sascha and her offsider were very patient with us, and also wouldn’t let us skip anything. We got the story of the dog who spends all day running up and down the rows of grapes when one of the wires is plucked, chasing the sound – and then has to be carried home because his paws hurt! And they did great imitations of American customers :) And they have all this cool stuff made from old barrels and bits of wood and things. Wine not cheap, but very, very good.

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(And click these to embiggerate as well)

  • Foggo Road Wines. Small, chosen on whim. Again, very good. Sandi the winemaker was behind the counter. She and Bruce the Kiwi Grape Picker spent an hour chatting, suggesting things to try, talking about what the season was like, how terrible the yields are this year because of drought (now) and frost (spring last year), and how the whole region is suffering. I don’t know if Bruce was his real name, but it made an entertaining afternoon.
  • The Settlement Wine Company. Had to go after the wine with pizza the night before. These folks have a smaller range, all good, and I was blown away by the prices. The standout bargain highlight of the trip. EVERYTHING was about 1/2 the price of everywhere else. These people are crazy – they were underselling themselves.
  • And finally, Beresford, who just happen to run the B&B we were staying in. The local chocolatier is also the barista, so after trying and buying some wine, it was time for coffee and hot chocolate. REAL hot chocolate made with lumps of chocolate, and milk, and steam. SWMBO was in heaven.

So… that brings us to try #2 at Russells Pizza. Our booking was in the courtyard – inside being very very very small, and chock-full. The courtyard was a little breezy, and verging on cold. But so what!

Russells is real wood oven pizza, in a “restaurant” with charm and a LOT of character. Tables have been scavenged from all over, so have the chairs.



You want a candle outside? No worries, it’s in an old jam tin. The menu is salad, pizza, and a cake of some kind for desert. The cake changes each day, thats about all that does. No cutlery – if you really want that, take it yourself. We were told some people take their own chairs! The place is justly famous though, the pizza was fabulous. We managed a 1/2 and 1/2:

  • Chili Chicken: chicken, garlic, yogurt, pickled lime, tomato and coriander.
  • Lamb: Slow cooked lamb, yogurt, pickled lime, tomato, dukkah and mint.

I’ve never had anything like this, really good flavours on a pizza without cheese (!), and with a crust that was thin, very crisp, and perfectly cooked. And so much we could barely make it through a single large one.


And that brings us to home day, today. Wine tasting was out of the question. I was beginning to feel like it was oozing out of my pores. Instead, a jolly good healthy walk was in order.

Followed by an ice-cream, of course.

Finally, we decided not to keep going with the ham / cheese / olives lunches of the last two days, but instead stopped in at the Woodstock Coterie, where who should be waiting tables but our host of the previous day from Fox Creek. Her suggestion was the soup – Sweet Potato and Pear (with a bit of ginger and chilli) which was outstanding. The Roo, the Smoked Salman Tart, and the Jazz Trio all made for a very good lunch and a nice way to finish the day before heading off to rescue grandma and head back to normality.

That be a Smoked Salmon Tart!

And that be 3 blokes playin’ Jazz

Only one thing about Woodstock was unusual. We must have been close on the youngest people there. Excluding the staff, the average age of the customers must have been about 60. Made us feel young and sprightly!

Tomorrow, unfortunately, is back to normal.

Thought for the day

Looking for a gift?

Give CHILLIES – the gift that gives twice!

Reminds me of my fathers old, old joke:

You heard about the constipated accountant?

He couldn’t budget!

(think about it…)


He worked it out with a pencil

(now you can groan, in more ways than one)

Pullout from where?

This one came by email a few days ago:


Regardless of where you stand on the issue of the U.S. involvement in Iraq, here’s a sobering statistic:

There has been a monthly average of 160,000 troops in the Iraq theatre of operations during the last 22 months, and a total of 2,112 deaths.

That gives a firearm death rate of 60 per 100,000 soldiers per month.

The firearm death rate in Washington D.C. is 80.6 per 100,000 persons for the same period.

That means that you are about 25% more likely to be shot and killed in the U.S. Capital than you are in Iraq.

*Conclusion: The U.S. should pull out of Washington*

Completely insane???

The US Motion Picture association wants registration of home theatres, and fines for non-compliance.

This is crazy – they want a fee for every viewer of a DVD, so it would be illegal to invite friends of family around to watch a DVD. They consider this to be a breach of copyright.

Ahhh… It’s a pisstake. Satire. Thank heavens for that!

Dazz & Bazz

Can’t remember if I posted this before or not:

The Cane-Toad movie: Dazz pondering the disappearance of his mate Bazz.

Available for DivX or Quicktime… its big… if on dial-up you will need to let it go overnight. Damn good though (but I’m sure non-Australians won’t understand most of it.)


Another that works best by reading it aloud:


Mahatma Gandhi, as you know, walked barefoot most of the time which produced an impressive set of calluses on his feet. He also ate very little which made him rather frail and, with his odd diet, he suffered from bad breath.

This made him (Oh, man, this is so bad, it’s good)… a super calloused fragile mystic hexed by halitosis!


You really need to read this aloud:


A woman has twins and gives them up for adoption.

One of them goes to a family in Egypt and is named “Ahmal.”

The other goes to a family in Spain; they name him “Juan.”

Years later, Juan sends a picture of himself to his birth mother. Upon receiving the picture, she tells her husband that she wishes she also had a picture of Ahmal.

Her husband responds, “They’re twins! If you’ve seen Juan, you’ve seen Ahmal.”

Bush’s Clock

A man died and went to heaven. As he stood in front of St. Peter at the Pearly Gates, he saw a huge wall of clocks behind him.

He asked, “What are all those clocks?”

St. Peter answered, “Those are Lie-Clocks. Everyone on Earth has a Lie-Clock. Every time you lie the hands on your clock will move.”

“Oh ,” said the man, “whose clock is that?”

“That’s Mother Teresa’s. The hands have never moved, indicating that she never told a lie.”

“Incredible,” said the man. “And whose clock is that one?”

St. Peter responded, “That’s Abraham Lincoln’s clock. The hands have moved twice, telling us that Abe told only two lies in his entire life.”

“Where’s President Bush’s clock?” asked the man.

“Bush’s clock is in Jesus’ office. He’s using it as a ceiling fan.


Sitting together on a train, travelling through the Swiss Alps, were a Kiwi guy, an Australian bloke, a little old Greek lady, and a young blonde Swiss girl with large breasts.

The Train goes into a dark tunnel and a few seconds later there is the sound of a loud slap. When the train emerges from the tunnel, the Kiwi has a bright red hand print on his cheek.

No one speaks.

The old Greek lady thinks: The Kiwi guy must have groped the blonde in the dark and she slapped his cheek.

The blonde Swiss girl thinks: That Kiwi guy must have tried to grope me in the dark, but missed and fondled the old lady and she slapped his cheek.

The Kiwi thinks: The Australian bloke must have groped the blonde in the dark. She tried to slap him but missed and got me instead.

The Australian thinks: I can’t wait for another tunnel, just so I can smack the Kiwi again

New IR Laws (again)

A man walking along a Gold Coast beach in Queensland was deep in prayer.

Suddenly, the sky clouded above his head and, in a booming voice, the Lord said, “Because you have tried to be faithful to me in all ways, I will grant you one wish.”

The man said, “Build a bridge to Hawaii so I can drive over anytime I want.”

The Lord said, “Your request is very materialistic. Think of the enormous challenges for that kind of undertaking. The supports to the bottom of the Pacific! The concrete and steel it would take! It will nearly exhaust several natural resources. I can do it, but it is hard for me to justify your desire for worldly things. Take a little more time and think of something that would honour and glorify me.”

The man thought about it for a long time. Finally he said, “Lord, I want a fair and reasonable industrial relations system in Australia, where workers would have no issues with OH&S, be paid appropriate wages, not be jerked around by their employers, and have the right to have their say against an absolute joke of a Government.”

The Lord replied, “You want two lanes or four on that bridge?”

Spielberg would be pleased

I was at the Adelaide Central Market the other day, and took the “travelator” up from the arcade level to the car park.

At the top, proudly displayed in steel on the grate was the name of the maker: “Schindler”.

That’s why I think Spielberg would like it: It’s Schindlers Lift.

Yes, I know, it’s a lousy joke.

England v France

Tim in California sent this. As Tim says, you need to know a few people from France and England to really appreciate it:

An Englishman is having breakfast one morning (coffee, croissants, bread, butter and jam) when a Frenchman, chewing bubble-gum, sits down next to him. The Englishman ignores the Frenchman who, nevertheless, starts a conversation.

Frenchman: “You English folk eat the whole bread??”

Englishman (in a bad mood): “Of course.”

Frenchman: (after blowing a huge bubble) “We don’t. In France, we only eat what’s inside. The crusts we collect in a container, recycle it, transform them into croissants and sell them to Britain.” The Frenchman has a smirk on his face.

The Englishman listens in silence.

The Frenchman persists: “Do you eat jam with the bread??”

Englishman: “Of Course.”

Frenchman: (cracking his bubble-gum between his teeth and chuckling). “We don’t. In France we eat fresh fruit for breakfast, then we put all the peels, seeds, and leftovers in containers, recycle them, transform them into jam and sell the jam to Britain.”

After a moment of silence, The Englishman then asks: “Do you make love in France?”

Frenchman: “Why of course we do”, he says with a big smirk.

Englishman: “And what do you do with the condoms once you’ve used them?”

Frenchman: “We throw them away, of course.”

Englishman: “We don’t. In Britain, we put them in a container, recycle them, melt them down into bubble-gum and sell them to France.”


This came in from David, and I quite liked it:

An Australian, an Irishman and an Englishman were sitting in a bar.

There was only one other person in the bar; a man. The three men kept looking at this other man, for he seemed terribly familiar. They stared and stared, wondering where they had seen him before, when suddenly the Irishman cried out, “My God, I know who that man is. It’s Jesus”. The others looked again and, sure enough, it was Jesus himself, sitting alone at a table.

The Irishman call out, “Hey!, you!!! Are you Jesus?”

The man looks over at him, smiles a small smile and nods his head. “Yes, I am Jesus” he says.

The Irishman calls the bartender over and says to him “I’d like you to give Jesus over there a pint of Guinness from me.”

So the bartender pours Jesus a Guinness and takes it over to his table. Jesus looks over, raises his glass, smiles thank you and drinks.

The Englishman then calls out, “Errr, excuse me Sir, but would you be Jesus?”

Jesus smiles and says, “Yes, I am Jesus.”

The Englishman beckons the bartender and tells him to send over a pint of Newcastle Brown Ale for Jesus, which the bartender duly does. As before, Jesus accepts the drink and smiles over at the men.

Then the Australian calls out, “Oi, you! D’ya reckon you’re Jesus, or what?”

Jesus nods and says, “Yes, I am Jesus.”

The Australian is mighty impressed and has the bartender send over a pot of Victoria Bitter for Jesus, which he accepts with pleasure.

Some time later, after finishing the drinks, Jesus leaves his seat and approaches the three men. He reaches for the hand of the Irishman and shakes it, thanking him for the Guinness. When he lets go, the Irishman gives a cry of amazement. “Oh God, the arthritis is gone,” he says. “The arthritis I’ve had for years is gone. It’s a miracle!”

Jesus then shakes the hand of the Englishman, thanking him for the Newcastle Brown Ale. Upon letting go, the Englishman’s eyes widen in shock. “By jove”, he exclaims, ” The migraine I’ve had for over 40 years is completely gone. It’s a Miracle!”

Jesus then approaches the Australian, who has a terrified look on his face

The Aussie whispers … “P*** off, mate. I’m on workers comp.”

Wallace and Gromit

Yesterday afternoon I went with the extended family to see “Wallace and Gromit and the curse of the Were-Rabbit”.

I want to see it again. There were so many jokes, both visual and spoken, that I could not catch them all. The creators obviously had LOTS of fun making this…

If you have not seen it, then make sure you do, and watch out for Wallace’s jar of “middle-aged spread”, and the obvious paying homage to King Kong.

I’ll be getting this when it comes out on DVD – if only so I can watch it slowly to try and catch all the gags I missed.

Todays joke

This one arrived the other day:

IN PRISON… you spend the majority of your time in an 8×10 cell.
AT WORK… you spend the majority of your time in a 6×8 cubicle.

IN PRISON… you get three meals a day.
AT WORK… you only get a break for one meal and you pay for it.

IN PRISON… you get time off for good behavior.
AT WORK… you get more work for good behavior.

IN PRISON… the guard locks and unlocks all the doors for you.
AT WORK… you must carry around a security card and open all the doors
for yourself.

IN PRISON… you can watch TV and play games.
AT WORK… you get fired for watching TV and playing games.

IN PRISON… you get your own toilet.
AT WORK… you have to share with some idiot who pees on the seat.

IN PRISON… they allow your family and friends to visit.
AT WORK… you can’t even speak to your family.

IN PRISON… the taxpayers pay all expenses with no work required.
AT WORK… you get to pay all the expenses to go to work and then they deduct taxes from your salary to pay for prisoners.

IN PRISON… you spend most of your life inside bars wanting to get out.
AT WORK… you spend most of your time wanting to get out and go inside bars.

IN PRISON… you must deal with wardens.
AT WORK… they are called managers

Joke of the day

I received this the other day and thought it was worth passing on…

A bloke starts his new job at the zoo and is given three tasks.

First, is to clear the exotic fish pool of weeds.

As he does this a huge fish jumps out and bites him. To show the others who’s boss he beats it to death with a spade. Realising his employer won’t be best pleased; he disposes of the fish by feeding it to the lions, as lions will eat anything.

Moving on to the second job of clearing out the Chimp house, he is attacked by the chimps that pelt him with coconuts. He swipes at two chimps with a spade, killing them both.

What can he do? Feed them to the lions, he says to himself, because lions eat anything. He hurls the corpses into the lion enclosure.

He moves on to the last job, which is to collect honey from the South American Bees.

As soon as he starts he is attacked by the bees. He grabs the spade and smashes the bees to a pulp. By now he knows what to do and throws them in.

Later that day a new lion arrives at the zoo. He wanders up to another lion and says,
“What’s the food like here?”

The lion says “Absolutely brilliant. Today we had fish and chimps with mushy bees.”

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