We live in trying times. Hurricane Ike has pulverized Texas. Wall Street is in turmoil. And, most horrific of all,
the New Kids On The Block are preparing for their reunion tour.
It's no wonder then that so many of us choose to bury our heads in the proverbial sand of cycling. I certainly do. It's far easier to live in a world where "tragic" means a really ugly fixed-gear conversion and "scandal" means your favorite rider has just tested positive for EPO. That's why when something enters the world of cycling that forces me to look beyond it and contemplate the larger issues I become especially angry. Like a child shut in his bedroom listening to music, I dread that moment when someone pounds on the door and tells me to turn it off and get to work.
The latest knock at the door came yesterday, in the form of an alleycat:
I'd seen this particular one advertised on the various bike blogs for quite awhile now. Apart from briefly sighing to lament the tiresome formula of pop culture appropriation to which all these alleycats seem to adhere (in this case it was the re-working of the Morbid Angel logo) I really didn't think anything of it. By the way, if you don't know what an alleycat is, it's something that used to be a messenger race, then became a race for people who copy messengers, and then became a race for people who copy people who copy messengers. And if you don't know who Morbid Angel are, they're a band. For every genre of music, there's a band that officially carves out the heart of that genre, discards it, and dances around in the carcass campily like Buffalo Bill from "Silence of the Lambs." Morbid Angel were that band for the subgenre of a subgenre called "grindcore," and they excised from it any social consciousness bands like Napalm Death may have had, slipped on the carcass of screaming and speed like a stage costume, and very successfully upped the ante of metal idiocy.
At any rate, I didn't give much thought to the "Metal Rage" alleycat, until I was checking in with
trackosaurusrex (home of the exclamation point!) and saw
this:
Clearly this wasn't just another contrived alleycat with a cutesy theme. This was full-bore, white-knuckle, hunched-over-the-neck-of-the-guitar, hair-swinging, cock-rocking stupidity. Aghast, I followed the link to the report, and learned this:
At each checkpoint you had to do a task like sign the manifest in your own real blood, bring roadkill, shotgun a beer, get slapped by a groupie, be anointed with fake blood and let all but 30 psi out of your tire.I also read this comment from a participant on one of the sponsor's sites:
Jack’s arm looked so fucking nasty. I watched it happen to. They gave us razor blades and said “cut yourself” and Jack pulled some fucking suicidal shit. His arm split open and he screamed…
I listened to Bathory and Dissectiont the whole night.
Now, as I mentioned, I was aghast. And the reason for my aghastation (sure, why not?) wasn't the theme, or the makeup, or the clothes. It wasn't even the idea of people cutting themselves open for what is essentially a big Easter Egg hunt. I mean, sure, all those things were pretty stupid, but that's not what was bugging me. It was the dead animals. I kept going back to the pictures of the dead animals.
I'm the first to admit that I'm a simpering wussbag when it comes to animals. I can't even watch a dog food commercial without getting emotional. And forget Animal Planet--all it takes is one story of a cat with cancer or something to bring me to my knees as I press my hands together and beg of the heavens, "Why? Dear God, why!?!" But still, I do have some perspective on it. I realize at least part of the reason for my extreme sensitivity in this area is because I'm so insensitive in others, and that I've sort of unevenly focussed all my compassion on the animal kingdom. I guess that's why I can shrug my shoulders at a person in distress, but if I see a pigeon with a limp or something I need to go have a drink. I also realize that I come from a place where the death of animals is not a part of my day-to-day life. Maybe if I'd grown up on a farm or something and chicken decapitations were as commonplace as mail delivery I'd see things a little differently.
Still, I think no matter where you are on the animal sensitivity spectrum, pictures like these should at least raise an eyebrow. I couldn't help wondering if at least some of the "roadkill" hadn't been alive before these people go their hands on it. (In fact, I have reason to believe this may indeed be the case.) And even if none of the "roadkill" had been killed by the participants, surely when a group of grown men are riding around New York City playing with bloody animals it is symptomatic of something in the "bike culture" that goes beyond simple stupidity. Here's another picture from the flickr page linked to on the trackosaurusrex site:
I've taken the liberty of annotating this particular photo in order to draw attention to the bloodied animal, the depraved expression, and the torso in dire need of a manssiere.
And here's a closer look at one of the photos from above:
I suppose if I heard about a bunch of 14-year-old kids in rural Kansas riding around doing something like this I might understand it. I've been to rural Kansas, and while it certainly has a certain beauty I could also imagine it breeding a certain restlessness and destructive boredom in an adolescent hungry for social and intellectual stimulation. However, it's much harder to understand something like this when the participants are a bunch of adults in one of the cultural capitals of the world, who have thousands of dollars of high-end bicycle equipment, and, at least in some cases, also have expensive educations and white-collar office jobs as well as access to all the socially and intellectually stimulating pursuits those assets afford them.
Could they not think of anything better to do with their bikes or themselves? Moreover, if any of these people actually have romantic partners, what kind of exchanges did they have with theirs the next morning?
"What did you do last night, honey?"
"A few of us stopped by an art gallery. Then we had dinner, talked for awhile, and saw a really great show. What did you do?"
"I pulled the wing off a dead pigeon, shotgunned a beer, and wrote my name in blood."
Then again, I guess I shouldn't be surprised when people choose the stupid route. If you want to race your bike, why should you enter an actual race? Those are hard, and sometimes require you to get up early. Why not do an alleycat instead? And if you want to have a visceral experience, why go hunting or fishing? That would require you to think, and to learn something, and to deal with the consequences of taking a life. Plus, you can't really do it while dressed as your favorite Norwegian black metal hero. Indeed, you can only sit in your office in front of you iMac for so long before you feel the desperate need to legitimize your brand-new knuckle tattoos by wrapping them around a bloody animal while dressed as the people who live the lives which you covet yet of which you are also afraid.
I hope I'm wrong in my suspicion that any animal, no matter how low on the food chain, might have been killed just for an alleycat. But even if I am wrong, I think a bunch of yuppies riding around playing with roadkill represents a new low. I'd love to see some comments from the participants, who can perhaps show me that I'm overreacting and can prove me wrong on all counts. I mean, I must be, right? After all King Kog, home of the vegan toe straps, was one of the sponsors.
Oh well, I'm glad all the frat boys are still managing to have fun after graduation.
286 comments:
«Oldest ‹Older 201 – 286 of 286At least we were spared a boring-ass lesson on the so-subtle-as-to-be-nonexistent distinction between Death Metal and Grindcore. I think one involves a certain insouciance generally found lacking in the other, n'est ce pas? But I forget which is which.
Saturday night I smoked some nice weed and went to a club to see the Hold Steady. I got pulled on-stage for their final song and ended up backstage where I partied with the band (from Brooklyn, but none of them ride fixies??!!). Anyhoo... I met these two beautiful girls who as it turns out were experimenting with bi-sexuality. Back at their place we all enjoyed a threesome, followed by a long restful sleep. The next morning they took me out for brunch at this great French bistro... Their treat!! Amazing food.
Your race sounds kinda fun too though.
Snobby,
You just locked up the veggie vote.
Sick Mother Fuckers!! Lame so-called cyclists who dont know what it's like to ride a fucking bike for real. What the fuck is this shit about, for real?
AH - I got stuck in those fucking winds from IKE on Sunday during an 85 mile ride down route 8 in KY. Couldn't even hold my bike up. Hope you got out and rode too!
Snob, all is good with the post but, as someone pointed out, you did call Morbid Angel a grindcore band. What's it matter?.. some might say, but to metal fans, the classification of bands is of utmost importance. You stuck your toe in those waters and you need to either defend or retract that statement. I'm on your side most days but I'm not sure I can help ya with this one.
I heard about this shit from a friend, and i told him he was lying. i read here that it's true and i'm beside myself. y'all are whack asses. riding bikes aren't good enough, now you've gotta kill birds, rip metal and cut ourselves to be a part of the club.
i'm all about getting a little crazy, drinking too much and maybe waking up to someone who was much more attractive the night before with a crazy hangover ringing whatever tunes i was dancing to over and over again...but fucking come on.
dead birds already or not, y'all are sick as fuck.
if any one person in my crew decided to fuck with a dead bird, worse yet, kill one at a party-i'd smack the shit out of him.
and it's not a NY hipster thing at all. i'm from the best city on earth and i was born and raised here. yeah i wear tight jeans, fuck yeah i ride a fixed gear, and i love metal. but you won't ever catch me doing any of that crazy as shit.
i'm with bisickle. have fun being hardcore and while you're at it, take off your campy seatpost, lube it up real nice and pleasure yourself. fags.
You're not hardcore. Try being invited to dinner when you were a kid only to be told afterwards that your friends hick grandfather pan fried roadkill armadillo...taste like chicken my ass...
I'm surprised you didn't use the picture from the Flickr stream of the guy eating raw bacon next to a kid staring at the camera with terrible face paint.
Also, I was a participant. And I killed no animals. I bought the bacon at a deli. And it was a splendid time. What those pictures don't make you recognize is that at least half of the participants weren't dressed up at all, had no interest in metal. Just enjoyed racing and doing something active.
Who said anyone killed any animals?
It's road KILL. Get your heads out of your asses and READ!
We didn't kill anything but a bunch of beer!
I still cant get past the fact that they are touching dead animals and cutting themselves..... not the best things to mix together or do alone.
"I'm from nyc and I call people fags"
Upper East or West Side?
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Great post. Too bad the knuckle-dragging faux-street rich white kids won't read it. They're too busy planning the next Prolly approved venture into playfunland where a make believe EXTREME event will satisfy their adventure craving childishness. I think they drink at Second Chance Saloon if you want to catch them after hours.
Ok, so first I removed this... but I just want to say:
- I didn't plan this event
- This event was fun
If the organizers threw it again this Saturday, would I go? Yes.
I'll be at Interbike, so all you wonderfully eloquent internet trolls, come say hey.
does anyone else think that most of the ghost bikes are the result of brakeless fixed gear bike-salmon running red lights while talking on their cell phones at night with no light or reflective gear? These self-conscious throw-backs fit the bill. Can I still party at your williamsburg condo?
yeah dudes! yous guys need to bring that caveman shit down here to Philly!
Bikesnob, I think you and I are soulmates...
Well wait a sec, between the postings of recipes and Mr. Corneluis' Proustian Remembrance of Pigeons Repast, one could get the impression the Alley Cat involved eating road kill.
Perish the thought.
That would be uncivilized even if the winner's metier (his metier and potatos, so to speak) were the bicycle delivery of take out food with a side of runny brio.
But just in case eating road kill is on the menu for the next Alley Cat, I'll risk putting the a la carte before the horse, and suggest a tasty alternative.
Jelly Bean soup.
Herewith the recipe.
Take five Cliff Cran-Razz Shot Blocs and melt in a large pot over a can of Sterno, stirring briskly counter-clockwise every five minutes.
Add 8 oz Hawaiian Punch, 8 oz Fruit Punch Gatorade, and 8 oz Accelerade (any flavor, they all taste the same to me).
When soup is simmering, fold in two packages of grape Kool Aid, and add 1/2 pound of jelly beans (any flavor).
Chill.
While chilling, also cool the soup.
Before serving, add sugar to taste.
Serves 3. Insulin chaser optional.
Alley Cat contestants should enjoy 8 oz of Jelly Bean Soup at each checkpoint to avoid bonking.
We all know how important it is to keep your energy level up on Race Day.
http://www.fixedgeargallery.com/2008/sept/2/moabiker11_aim.htm
nyc sucks and i think every resident knows it, and secretly blames themselves for it, thats why most of them are dicks. all their lives they are constantly hearing about its inherent "coolness" and since this "coolness" doesnt really exist they feel excluded which makes them try really hard to set trends. however once trend is set they must hate everyone else for seeming to suck from it its originality, not realizing that they were just copying something from japan.
yabai and coaster ftw
we did an alleycat in orlando where you had to watch "she's all that" at a checkpoint. now thats fuckin tough
morbid angel isn't grindcore, it's death metal.
stick to what you know dude.
also the difference being grindcore is rooted in crust punk (amebix, electro hippies) whilst death metal was rooted in nwobhm (witchfinder general, venom)
Eating raw bacon? Mark, meet trichinosis. Trichinosis, this is Mark. Must be a goyisha thing; meshugana traif.
"rawb acon"
dear world,
i am upset about how some people are choosing to ride their bikes.
sincerely,
some jewish dude
"we agree!" the bikesnob reading whitecollar masses exclaim in unison, "snob you're the best!!". they then go out to use the word "hipster" like it's going outta style, and use various other descriptions so hilariously out of touch with the type of people choosing to race alleycats it makes my youthful puppy eyes well up with crocodile tears.
in summation, 75 percent of the readers of this extraordinarily hit or miss blog need to get a clue.
231 yes!
oh man i forgot the abuse of the word "yuppie" too
i doubt most of those dudes are more of a yuppie then you.
sheldon brown is rolling over in his grave
rip SB...
...good god, cornelius...both you & critical ass...
...you can dress 'em up by calling them "squabs" but pigeons are still just "feathered rats"...
...french...i just know it...
KNUC KLES
ILIK EYOU
PIEP LATE
FUCK YALL
Ball Bags...
For the knuckles
Y'all just jealous! Don't be hatin'!
UBAS TARD
"suck dick"
"BLAH BLAH"
Yeah, you know.. for the knuckles..
POOP ANTS
I don't think I know anyone who knows the difference between grind core and death metal. I hope that is the case.
He he! New Kids are back, and now they are Tough Guys. Oooooohhh!
TWOF IFTY
The genres in metal remind me of the days I used to go to raves(except without girls on E).
"No, this is acid house, not electrostep, GOD get it right!"
NKOT BROX
NYCS ucks
Andy,
I would not recommend merlot with the bird. Most urban foraging dishes call for something like this. And plastic bats can be really scary if you take enough acid.
You have to check out the softride on fgg...I wouldn't claim it either.
I hope it's (the softride) is supposed to be a joke. It would be a strange coincidence since BSNY has had both Softride bikes and bullhorns in the last month i think.
no animals were hurt. most of the blood in those pictures, such as that around the dismembered pigeon was actually corn syrup. there actually weren't enough dead animals on the course, i think maybe 3 or 4 people found road kill over 30 miles of nyc roads. thats why mark and i bought raw bacon, and i'm pretty sure prolly convinced some guy barbecuing fish to give him some. that race was a shitload of fun, and honestly, an amazing saturday night compared to the last dozen or so i've spent in a lame bar or at a lame party. also, sheldon brown can't be rolling in his grave, we extracted him for the race because it's so fucking metal.
on a side note, stop calling people gay or fags while still attempting to have any credibility. thats more archaic and stupid than anything we could have possibly done this past saturday night.
I dunno, I always liked Death better than Morbid Angel. Especially during the James Murphy years... The next band I heard that I liked as much as Death was At the Gates - I'm still waiting for a worthy successor...
Oh wait, relevant to the post, I was in a death metal band for 10+ years and I was constantly amazed by the weird obsessions and attitude of some of the other bands (especially the Scandinavian ones) and never felt an urge to imitate them - even in an ironic fashion.
Whatever, I don't live a cool state anyway and I used my fixed gear to get from point A to point B when I get sick of 20 gears and coasting...
"seriuosly though these people are to bicycling what burningman is to society"
Best comment award! Nail on the head.
it's not proverbial sand, because it has nothing to do with a proverb.
I wish I botherd comment racing this post
good post, bikesnob. i'm with you on the issue of loving animals / disgusted with humans. this group of idiots only confirms that.
RYAN!
You believe in money.
You work with my boyfriend.
;)
nyc sucks
Meta Lsux, for the knux of course!
Sat night i stayed late at the shop and finished some wheels, then ate dinner, had a nap, then stopped by a friends place on my way to see Spiritualized, after which I went straight to bed in order to get up at 5:30 for a 300km ride, which I didn't finish. Lack of sleep I think.
I liked alleycats more when they were messnger only...I can still remember the first one here that wasn't and what a stink it caused.
Being hardcore is gay, and saying gay is funny.
I too will be at Interbike. Now if you'll excuse me I need to go clean Sniffys cage.
Yours truly, Matt Barber, Vancouver
"Fixed gear", hipsters, trustafarians -- or whatever you wish to call it, as the middle class subculture it has turned out to be -- is CANCER. I repeat: CANCER.
Because these people ARE cancer. They pick up a cultural phenomena and abuse it, until the corporations discover it, and then again rape its dying corpse.
Everything positive said about a fixed gear bike might potentially be true, but that doesn't matter right now, for to me it's PARIA.
The middle class is essentially capitalism's Trojan horse within the working class body. Still working class, from a strict Marxist point of view, but truly totally domesticated and submitted to the spirit of capitalist society, driven by the only capital they have --social capital-- they recapitulate and transform a cultural expression and it into the only thing they now; a commodity, more precise: the commodity of "cool" and "one-upmanship". Hence totally alienating it from its roots.
But we don't have to worry too much. As always with capitalism there is the fear of inflation. As "fixed gear culture" are getting more widespread, popularized (and monetized) its "status" as a high-value social mark will water down and they will move on to another host. They will say it has lost its "genuinity", its "roots". They might even say that "fixed gear have sold out". See, the middle class is always looking for something "genuine", something "underground". Of course, something like that never exist.
Add to that the current stock market crash. It will surely hit the "PistaDEX" too, and I'll put all my underwear on stake that Craigslist soon will be flooded with cheap fixed gear bicycles.
Wave yer panties in the air like u jes don't kare!
And have some pigeon zoup wid dat grindcore wydontcha?
Umm, Morbid Angel are NOT grindcore, not even close..
I KNOW YOU CAN DO IT 300 POSTS ASSHOLES!
working class...
I'll trade you my fixed gear for your semblance of education. It's too bad that Cragslist doesn't have a for sale section for Liberal Arts degrees.
I can't wait for the market to crash, so I can finally build that Pista-only tall bike I've been dreaming about.
Prolly and his friends are a bunch of pussies. The problem with this alley cat is that there wasn't any REAL killing. The metal scene in NY is filled with poseurs. Even when Absurd played its infamous show in Queens, the crowd was mostly skinheads.
Morbid Angel is to Queensryche
AS
A white 1992 GT Avalanche is to A purple 1990 GT Backwoods
SPANDEX WEARING PUSSIES EAT DICKS FOR DINNER ON THEIR DELECTABLE DELICATE CARBON FRAMES FILLED WITH DOUCHEBAG DISCHARGE AS THEIR DEBUTANTE DAUGHTERS DELIGHTFULLY DIP THEIR BOYFRIENDS DICKS IN THEIR DEEP ASSHOLES.
F
U
C
K
A
L
L
Y
O
U
B
I
T
C
H
E
S
GET REAL RIDE MTB
Hey you upstairs could ya keep it down some of us have jobs
Curious as to how many of you ill-mannered Bike Snob whoreshipers drive your cars to ride your bikes on the weekends with your buddies?
Who ever said these guys don't ride (I think it was that ex-druggie triathlete up there - wear a fucking helmet bitch), most of those people log more miles in a week than you do in a month and they don't drive their cars to ride their 12 lb race bikes on some back country roads.
Haven't driven since GW's daddy was prez, there baby pop. BTW I would be honored if Sarah Palin ran my alleycat, just to make things dumber, they won't take my bike till they pry it from cold dead thighs after they pry my gun out of my cold dead fingers. 273 can this thing get sillier?
"By the way, if you don't know what an alleycat is, it's something that used to be a messenger race, then became a race for people who copy messengers, and then became a race for people who copy people who copy messengers."
such a brilliant observation.
Kale, you're the idiot.
Working class's observations are basic, true, and well-written. You could take a Poly Sci 101 class and write what he wrote.
What's different about our current counter cultures such as hipsters and their many subgroups, bike hipsters included, is that something semi creative is introduced, companies grab a hold of it and very quickly sell it right back to them. They think that they are creating more, being different, but they're not. They're being sold a style, eating it up, and then crying when everyone else has the same great idea.
MASH had Phil Wood hubs before the movie was even released. And by the time that movie even hit the market after over a year of the preview circulating, the Fast Friday preview had hit the web, and the MASH kids were suddenly passe.
Fancy that.
But yeah, these trends have nothing to do with commodification, social capital, or supply and demand.
it's a godawful small affair... the film is a saddening bore...oh man, look at those cavemen go... wonder if he'll ever know, he's in the best selling show
What did I do on my Saturday night? the same thing I do every Saturday night. I get off of work because I don't have a trust fund I have to work for a living. I rode loops in Prospect Park then went to the bar and drank two beers for every loop I did. I'll take that over your roadkill fondling race any day.
"BALL SACK"
"KNOG CYST"
everyone in new york has a trust fund right? just like you gnarles. stop lying.
BHAAP-
I never saw Hawkeye with a track bike.
The event looks very similar to the Bone Deth BMX jams. Fixed gear culture seems intent on aping BMX in the most pathetic ways imaginable.
Wow, what a case of Cultural Degeneration (and I mean the original post, not the follow-on messages). I'm afraid it's more a symptom of the Big City. After all, the more people are in a given area, the more liberal, and, therefore, more restrictive and constrained it becomes. To the point where people do strange (sick?) things to express themselves (analogous to squeezing on a pile of goo and having it squirt out in unexpected places). I put it down to the Abdication of Responsibility tenet of the left.
For the folks in a typical metropolis (NYC, LAX, etc.), think about how many rules you have to deal with on a daily basis - where you can work/live/park/drive/ride/walk, finances, self-defense, pet ownership, taxes, etc. and compare that with what someone living in rural Nebraska or Utah. Not that it's all skittles & beer out here, after all in the neighboring county we have to put up with retards like Oscar Goodman and Chester Stiles.
I'd be willing to bet that the NYC Penal Code alone is considerably more lengthy than the entire Nevada Revised Statute.
So it leaves me with a question that I often ask, "How do more laws increase your freedom?"
The benchmark seems to be the backwater bumpkin in rural Nebraska. However, I'd point out that, while perhaps slovenly, he's undoubtedly freer and happier than the folks depicted above.
PS - What a choice: John "Lipstick Pig" McCain, or Obama "Kill Whitey" bin Laden. Good thing I'm voting Libertarian.
An Oscar Goodman reference on the Bikesnob comment board? This is like shopping at the Goodwill store. You never know what you're liable to stumble across.
I usually find BS's posts to be witty to the point of milk-out-nostrils laughter, but this was just sort of boring. Sure the tried and true anti-brooklyn quips are there as is the holier than thou reference to the bygone era of "real" alleycats (can you really hold someone's birthdate against them?). And the veritable landslide of applause from the peanut gallery follows with the type of venom that it seems only John Prolly can draw.
I don't see what harm was done by this race, no animals were hurt by them (please, if you're so concerned about roadkill's dignity, take the initiative to give each a proper burial), they had some fun albeit not the type of fun some of you would likely have on a normal weekend. It takes different strokes, folks.
I take issue though with the people who constantly hate on Prolly's interest in doing tricks on a fixed gear bike. Let me separate it from the rest of the paragraph here so it's clear.
Who fucking cares?
The simple fact is that we all (presumably) ride bikes of some sort and with whatever amount of dedication we're ready to shout about over the internet. The stuff he and the others in that scene are doing is pretty hard, in a weird way it's a type of progress within cycling, and far be it from me to be out of tune with the Snob's children of Hamelin, but I think any progression of skill on a bicycle is a good thing. If nothing else it gets more people into the idea of riding a bike.
I respect the Snob for callin' em like he see's 'em, and I respect John for standing up to the lot of you pussies in the face of such blatant attempts at being somehow validated by constantly rewording what bsny has observed. If tomorrow he's backing McCain, I'll expect you bitter sheep will follow suit.
Houston did get pulverized. I'm glad there was no power because I think I would have descended into deep depression after seeing the news that weekend.
I care.
I own a small BMX shop in Middle America and my ability to raise a family has been diminished by Mr. Prolly's usurpation of the trick-bike culture. It used to be, back in the good ol' days, that bikes were utilitarian objects, made for specific tasks. It took a lot of elbow grease and trial and error to come up with the BMX bike: a bike designed for tricks and wheelies and such. Now I won't disregard the fact that it looks silly and ironic to do a wheelie on a road bike, but spare my family the hardship and do the tricks on a good ol' BMX. Sorry if that means doing harder tricks to get some limelight, I know those professionals are good n' all, but don't let that stop you.
Hahahahaha Job for a cowboy... once you think you can finally escape those fanboys of pseudo metal at the shows, you see them at a pseudo alleycat... (After having stood over an hour and a half waiting for Behemoth to play at Slims two years ago, I never cared to hear that name again... fucking terrible.) They bastardized the Morbid Angel logo too! Fooools! May they all be raped by a thousand wolves in the darkest of forests they'll never go.
I followed a well known blog until i read this post. Disgusting behavior really..... why freak bags hide behind a bike to be a loser i'll never know.
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