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| Weekly Post-Eds |

Weekly Post-Ed #63

by Robert Hyma January 31, 2024
written by Robert Hyma

SOME PRACTICAL ADVICE

Breakups are terrible. No matter how many times I go through one, they are just as painful and mysterious even after a catalogue of past experiences to compare them with. Over the past two months, I’ve been going through the process of moving on from a serious romantic relationship. And while I’ve assumed my usual role of private detective revisiting the scene of the crime in order to solve just what murdered love this time around, I also understand the relationship is dead and that there was no saving it. Since the breakup, I’ve read everything I could get my hands on that offers advice—some things have worked, others haven’t.

What’s fascinating about breakups is that we often find our own methods for soothing and moving on. I’ve found things that have worked that I’ve never found anywhere else. So, in case anyone finds this useful, I’d like to share the THREE THINGS that helped me move on from this past relationship.

***

YOU CAN ADMIT ALL OF THIS IS A LITTLE FUNNY

I remember distinctly the last time I saw my ex-girlfriend. I was driving to her house and had an existential moment of humor: Everything was so ridiculously wrong in that moment that it made me laugh. Everything felt wrong—from the strange distance growing between us, the unreasonable expectations and judgments (that I levied as well, I suppose), nothing felt organic. It was to be our last time seeing one another and I wondered why we were going through with it, honestly.

I’ve heard that there is a moment of understanding right before one dies, as though there’s a recognition that death is imminent and all becomes soberingly clear. I believe the same moment exists in romantic relationships bound to fail. And my advice for if you ever find yourself in that nebulous space is to laugh at it.

It’s ok to admit that what’s happening is funny.

Perhaps recognizing the absurdity of my dying relationship was why I handled the following evening so well.

I was broken up over a text message…after 8 months of being with someone.

I’m already laughing as I reflect writing this. In the world of relationships, you don’t get to break up with a text message after 8 months. To be clear, those 8 months included: exchanging “I love yous”, meeting family, spending nights and weekends together, and even mowing each other’s lawns (well, I mowed hers—which is a whole other story). Given that backstory, it doesn’t follow that a relationship like that should end with a SINGLE text message informing that things are over.

She sent it late at night: 

“Robert, I’ve been sorting through my feelings about our relationship the past few months and now I know that I don’t want this. Sorry it took me so long to process.” 

Ok: abrupt, a little remorseless, but not unfathomable—it’s not like we were a great couple. But still, breaking up over a text message?

It gets better. She added:

“Don’t call me, I won’t pick up. I’ll call you tomorrow or Monday if you want to talk about it.”

That’s when I laughed. 

Really hard.

Because until that moment, I didn’t know you could do that: Schedule a breakup in advance.

To her credit, it took the sting of the breakup away initially. The notion that you can break up with someone and then schedule to talk about it later is hilarious to me. It defies the act entirely: 

You’re breaking up RIGHT NOW.

It’s not worth bringing up the cowardice of ending things over a text message (which is also indicative of so much else that was wrong with the relationship), nor all the negative attributes of that moment that aren’t worth elaborating on either. What I will say, in hindsight, I am grateful that things ended so absurdly. There were tears when it happened, but mostly from laughter. It’s hard to completely fault someone else for at least ending things on a joke—even though it was at her expense.

Real tears were to follow, of course—I did love her—but this part was funny and worth laughing about. It was a good start to a long breakup process, really, which helped in the long run.

***

IT’S OK TO COMPARE PAST BREAKUPS

Another surprising strategy that has helped is comparing past breakups. The added benefit of having gone through many breakups is recognizing that some were better than others. In many cases, I started to think fondly of past relationships that ended in a way that was – for a lack of a better term – classy.

No one likes a breakup because it means something wasn’t working, but there is a sense of integrity in finding a fitting ending. I’ve found that those who breakup with a polite and professional message are the ones doing it right. For example, I once hated receiving the rejected job application breakup:

“Hey, sorry to do this, but I don’t think we’re clicking. While I think you’re a terrific candidate and will make some other employer extremely happy in the future, it just wasn’t the right fit for me or my company. I’ve decided to go in another direction at this time. Thanks for applying and I wish you the best going forward.”

It still hurts, and is inhumanly sterile in warmth or tone, but it is a nice sentiment compared to other ways people choose to breakup.

*cough* Like a text message that attempts to schedule an explanation a day or two later. *cough*

I have never appreciated ex-girlfriends like I have from this previous breakup. While those breakups felt cruel and unreasonable at the time, I now see that they also showed a maturity in recognizing the relationship wasn’t going to work and how best to approach its end. Perhaps it is the writer in me, but I always appreciate those who put effort into the endings of things. It isn’t necessary to have total understanding or closure from a relationship (because no explanation erases the reality that the relationship failed; and most often, seeking closure morphs into something unhealthy such as keeping the door open a crack just in case both want to try – and fail – again).

In many ways, I feel better about my other breakups. They seem nicer now, somehow.

***

WHEN IN DOUBT, IMAGINE WHAT YOUR HEROES WOULD SAY

One of the most useful techniques I’ve discovered is to imagine you are telling the story of your relationship to one of your heroes. If I were to honestly tell the story of what happened, how would they respond? Here are what a few of my heroes would have to say:

Colin Jost: “Her brother wore a gun on holster on his chest when meeting you? In his own home? Did he offer to chest bump you to make the gun go off? What a great way of getting away with murder for someone with a severe insecurity complex. “Chest bump with the safety off, bro!” C’mon, even in westerns the cowboys take off their guns in their own homes!”

Craig Mazin: “No. Just, no. You should have left when she said that her “true self” was someone selfish, blunt, crass, and mean. Here’s some advice: when someone says, ‘Oh, here’s who I really am’ and gets VERY specific about the terrible qualities they possess, you BELIEVE THEM. Get away. Get far, far away.”

Neil Gaiman: “You know, when I was writing Coraline, I had an idea to make the little doorway to the other world have a guillotine blade that would shutter down if one wasn’t looking carefully enough, cutting off a finger or an arm. But I found it didn’t work because – and I think this is much like what you were telling me about your ex-girlfriend who believes in conspiracy theories – it was a bit TOO much of the wrong thing.”

Lori Gotlieb: “She wanted to stop saying ‘I love you’ months after you both had declared love for one another, and this was because she didn’t want to say it in case the relationship wouldn’t last? I’m not sure you can preorder a breakup in a relationship, but I think that’s what she was doing there. And you must ask yourself: Does that quality make for a good partner? I think you already know the answer to that.”

***

CAST FOR SANITY

At this point in my life, I don’t know what makes for a healthy relationship because – honestly – I’ve never had one. However, I can imagine what it feels like to enjoy a healthy romantic relationship. I won’t constantly wonder if someone wants to build something with me or not. I don’t think there will be family members or a roommate constantly gossiping about what a wrong fit I am, even though they never asked much about me. Nor will there be constant judgment and seeking out all my faults because I wasn’t, suddenly, impressive anymore (8 months into a relationship, ain’t NO ONE impressive any longer).

In short: it just shouldn’t be so goddam hard.

The director Judd Apatow has said that when he casts actors for his movies, he first and foremost casts for sanity. 

Ultimately, I think this is the best advice for choosing a romantic partner. And it is casting: you are being selective about who earns the role of being in your life (just remember that you are also auditioning for theirs).

So, just remember: When the next audition shows up and says they found Jesus Christ at 4-years-old, has a sibling that is convinced you are a communist because IT WAS A THOUGHT THAT CAME INTO HIS BRAIN FOR NO REASON, and claims that a clinically obsessive roommate’s 20-30 texts in a row are because she’s “just looking out for me.”

You can pass.

Even better: You should laugh, think fondly about past auditions that weren’t so bad in hindsight (but that you wouldn’t cast, either), and that everyone around you – whom is reasonable and wise –  suggests you see other auditions.

Because there’s still a line of people waiting to read for the part outside.

And don’t worry: It’s a great movie. We all believe in it. And the right cast will make it even better.

Until then, you can tell the person in front of you with a smile and polite dismissal, “Thanks, I think we got it. We’ll let you know.” 

***

I have one song only to recommend this week and it is the new Justin Timberlake track “Sanctify” that debuted on Saturday Night Live this past weekend. I’ve had it on repeat the past few days and, for the first time, can confidently admit that I’m looking forward to JT’s new album dropping in March. Here’s the performance from SNL, it’s worth a watch:

https://youtu.be/zLC8XiBxV1k?si=cll-mC_-yBNYWN0Q

***

Wishing everyone as well as you can be. You’re not alone out there,

January 31, 2024 0 comments
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| Weekly Post-Eds |

Weekly Post-Ed #54

by Robert Hyma May 3, 2023
written by Robert Hyma

THANKS FOR JOINING US

“Robert! So good of you to join us,” she said. 

Or he said. 

Really, anyone who had a turn to come up and say hello at church after I hadn’t attended in a while used to say this phrase to me. I’m not sure why this specific passive-aggressive line was used by literally everyone who came over to shake my hand. Maybe it was rehearsed. I like to think a group gathered to collectively agree about how best to subtly insult someone who hadn’t been present at church in several months, and that there must have been other phrases that didn’t quite make the cut:

“Glad you could make it this time!” | (Pretty good, but perhaps a little bitter)

Or: “I thought you were dead; I’m glad to see you’re not! Ha ha ha.” | (Maybe a little too much wishful thinking mixed in with that one)

“Didn’t you grow out of puberty years ago; why do you need to sleep in until noon in your twenties?” | (Oddly specific and definitely NOT autobiographical)

And I would smile, trying not to squirm from the cold, clammy hands of the elderly ladies, or the overly aggressive, bone-breaking squeezes of the elderly men. I smiled because there was nothing for me to say: 

They were right to point out that I had been gone for some time without any explanation.

The explanation was simple for me. I was off living a life that required my being elsewhere to fully live it. The fault was in assuming I could return to a place where I supposed there would be no difference in opinion from when I was last there. In fact, I expected a warmer welcome—like a guest hosting SNL or that nod of gratefulness from librarians after returning books to the library after years of being overdue (definitely NOT another autobiographical detail).

There wasn’t any excuse worth giving. I didn’t feel a need to explain myself. I was back. And I was excited to get to the real conversation. 

“You look taller, have you grown?”

“Have you lost weight?”

Yes. And, yes I have. Thanks for asking.

“Glad to be here,” I’d say, smiling through clammy or overly aggressive handshakes, relieved the good part of the conversation could finally begin. “I’ve been busy.”

Truly. Here’s what I’ve been up to:

***

MARIO’S MOVIE

Image courtesy of Universal Pictures

A little behind the times, but I had some thoughts on The Super Mario Bros. Movie.

Quick side review: The movie was excellent! There were so many easter eggs and musical score references to previous games layered throughout the movie that really could only be appreciated by fans of the longstanding game series: The score included pieces from Super Mario 64, Super Mario 3D World, Luigi’s Mansion, Yoshi’s Island, and so much more. The voice-acting immediately made sense once Mario (voiced by Chris Pratt) said his first lines, and the likes of Luigi, Bowser, and Princess Peach came to life in ways that the games hadn’t touched upon in franchise history. This was truly a movie for generations of fans to come together to get another view of Mario and company in a new way. Mario truly warps to an interconnected world featuring arctic regions (with snowball launching penguins), dangerous lava pits, overgrown mushroom stalks, rainbow roadways, and even a land of rampaging apes (including Donkey Kong and kin). By the end of the movie, there was a call for more: More Nintendo franchises to appear, more worlds to explore (including Mario Galaxy references throughout that included a comically depressed celestial starlit, Luma, that hinted at the eventual introduction of Rosalina). 

The Nintendoverse appears to be getting started, which brings a slew of stories that stand apart from the usual superhero canon that has so saturated moviegoer imaginations for the last decade. It’s an added bit of fun, a twist on nostalgia that was both needed and appreciated by generational audiences. It was a movie made with love by fans of Super Mario for fans of Super Mario.

 And not to mistake it: This was a movie made for the fans.

For critics, on the whole, did not appreciate The Super Mario Bros. Movie.

Underneath the joy that fans emoted during the movie, there was a discord of critical review. The Super Mario Bros. Movie scored incredibly high by fans but poorly amongst critics. After having watched the movie, I understand critical arguments that were made about the film: There wasn’t a groundbreaking story, nor was there much emotional depth with any character; and the stakes appeared low as it was clear Mario would save the day…give or take a few extra lives along the way.

And yet, I wholly disagree with just about every critic that scored the movie as subpar.

Where critics lost objectivity in their reviews was in assuming that “good” movies consisted of essential story tentpoles: a rich backstory, high stakes, emotional growth, and a surprising but inevitable conclusion. It’s true that these features are lacking in The Super Mario Movie, but anyone who left the theater thinking the film a failure missed the point.

A movie can be greater than its individual parts—traditionally acclaimed story elements included.

The magic of the Super Mario Bros Movie sparked from its delivery of nostalgia. The movie was a celebration of something so beloved, and by so many, that the fact it exists in a way that compliments the original experience of the video games is a testament to a different kind of satisfaction. There was much more working in the movie than those basic arguments critics were making.

It reminded me of good cooking, and so I thought:

“Story doesn’t necessitate a good movie, much like a prime cut of beef doesn’t necessitate a great meal: The joy of eating has everything to do with how its prepared, who its eaten with, and if you like to eat beef in the first place.“

I would venture to claim many critics didn’t like beef Super Mario before they sat in their chairs to dine out.

Which is fine. Movies live beyond the confines of bad reviews. And from the joyous applause and laughter and excited anticipation for what Nintendo franchise could possibly appear on the big screen next, I looked around at an audience that was one-third kid and two-thirds adult fans of the Mario games: There will surely be second helpings of this dish.

My critical advice: It’s not too late to acquire a better taste for the games before watching next time. It’s a delicacy to many, after all.

***

COLLEGE, SURVIVAL, AND ESPRESSOS

I’m writing a bit extra in this Weekly Post-Ed to say a little more about what I’ve been up to since I last posted: Hope you don’t mind.

I’ve just completed my first year back to college full-time. Two semesters of attending classes, doing homework, studying for exams…and all at the age of 34-years-old. Everyone that I’ve mentioned my current occupation (“full-time university student”) has said, “I could never do what you’re doing. I could never go back to college.”

After a year’s worth of experiences and tribulations, I can conclude these people are 100% right: Being older doesn’t make college easier because, by design, it’s meant to be survived.

That’s because college is not a series of tests that assess how smart you are, but rather how resilient you are. The amount of information that’s taught in lecture, expected to be read and understood for class discussion with assigned readings, and the gauntlet of tests, essays, and exams throughout a semester is designed for most to flounder. The totality of information aside, the performance pressure students place on that holiest-of-idols, FINAL GRADES, leads to scholarship opportunities that are either accepted or revoked. It’s a painful reality since the cost of college is so laughably high that one wonders why there isn’t a “Tip Your University” screen when paying tuition by credit card—just an added cost to an already paid-for service.

(Of course, one could argue there is a “Tip Your University” feature: It’s called alumni donations.)

I’m writing this as a situated adult, someone who has arrived on the other side of young adulthood. I watched my classmates, undergrads ranging from 18-21, mostly, who worried about campus living, friend groups, where the parties were at, how to get sex (and from whom), and who is older and can score some beer. Many worked side jobs, juggling full loads of coursework as well as 20-30 hours as a restaurant server, cashier, cook, tutor. Many experienced homesickness, many traveling across state to attend and live on campus to survive on their own.

I write all of this assuming we’re all comfortable acknowledging the absolute frantic age of always-connected electronic life we live in. Texts, emails, Google searches, late-night notifications, social media likes, 24-hour news, mass shootings (including a particularly close-to-home tragedy at Michigan State University only a few months ago), the still-present Covid-19 variants running amuck, and a slew of intangibles that are probably worth listing but I’ve run out nerve. The constant draw of attention to devices and crises that are pushed into eyeballs at rapid speed makes for a life unlike what past generations have experienced. 

College feels like a triple espresso, now, instead of a double; just enough to induce a constant state of shakiness that is advertised as the new normal. The body can only take so much, however, which is both literally and metaphorically the case with students today.

College life encompasses all of this, condensed into an ecosystem that demands excellence and flaunts those who somehow possess the superhuman strength to achieve everything on the course syllabus with a 4.0 GPA. Attending college is a Herculean effort, one that tests mettle in ways both arcane and unreasonable. And, I have no problem identifying as someone who had it easier than most. Out of my population of college students, I’m quite privileged. For all the reasons I’ve stated above, I didn’t have to work a side job, nor did I have to wrestle with forging an identity amongst a landscape of raging hormones and brand new adulting experiences like my classmates did. I was solely on a mission to broaden my intellectual horizons and gain a bachelor’s degree: A piece of a paper that equates to, essentially, a deli line ticket acting as an expensive placeholder that says, “I have a right to the working world, too.”

And yet, despite all the setbacks and travel and intensive mental Olympics required to survive each semester, it truly was an invaluable experience being back in college. I have so much more to share, about what it meant to succeed as well as what doesn’t work about current education, but all of that can wait for another time. 

I’m thankful for a break before heading back for a final year. There’s a lot to unpack about these past few months, so stay tuned.

***

Courtesy of CAPCOM

This week’s Weekly Finds features the upcoming Original Soundtrack from Street Fighter 6. The themes of each roster character have been fully revealed and feature a dance-centric, urban catalogue of hip-hop, cultural inversion, and it makes for a damn entertaining setlist to fight to in-game. While the musical direction of Street Fighter 6 has bristled many fans of the series who wished for a more traditional remix of song selections from previous titles, I’ve quite enjoyed the new direction for this iteration of character themes. Below are YouTube links to a few favorites I’ve had on repeat lately:

  • Cammy’s Theme – “OverTrip”
  • Ken’s Theme – “Spirit of the Flame”
  • Blanka’s Theme – “Zilra Zilra”
  • Jamie’s Theme – “Mr. Top Player”

Of course, if you’re a fan of the original character themes circa Street Fighter II, here’s a walk down memory lane orchestration by Games and Symphonies! Enjoy!

***

Wishing everyone as well as you can be. You’re not alone out there,

May 3, 2023 0 comments
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| Weekly Post-Eds |

Weekly Post-Ed #18

by Robert Hyma November 23, 2021
written by Robert Hyma

ALIVE FROM NEW YORK

            This marks my first non-video game themed website design. It’s based on the current look of Saturday Night Live, combined with some added flourishes like an 2D-designed Chrysler Building next to the text. It felt like a time to laugh, and SNL is the source I go to for most laughter these days.

            That sketch show is special because it has done something no other show on television has—evolve with the times. Its purpose is straightforward: to make people laugh, but the route the show has taken has always been ever-changing. Generations of comedians and writers have mixed up the formula, some preferring a contemporary sketch show, others a zanier, aloof style of sketches that have nothing much to do with current events. The show can be penetratingly satirical or drug-inducingly avante garde, and both work.

            I chose SNL as the design for my website because it’s something I need right now. I’ve never been a consistent SNL viewer, but I find the show more important than ever these days. Partly because of the political climate, along with the rampant irrationality that spreads across a nation further defined by polarization, but also because the show is a reminder that a group of people can come together and try to make something people can laugh about. It’s the purest form of, “getting on with the show,” something America should be reminded to do now and again. We could all use a little more laughter instead of endless, unwavering, and suffocating scrutiny about who is right and who ought to be ostracized.

            Below are the graphics I’ve made for the redesign:

***

“AT THE SAME TIME?”

            WARNING: upon a second edit, this section is quite crass. Viewer discretion advised.

            I had a 24-hour stomach virus over the weekend. I told a select group of people about it (co-workers, family) and they said, “Oh, no! I’m sorry to hear that!” which is the correct reaction (it beats: “Finally! What took so long?”) However, what usually follows a proclamation of sympathy is this strange investigation into what type of stomach flu it was:

            “Did you have vomiting and diarrhea? Both? AT THE SAME TIME?!”

            Maybe there’s a tiered system of stomach virus/flu and only the most severe of symptoms garners the most sympathy. Like: “Oh, it only came out of ONE end, did it? Sounds like it wasn’t so bad after all.” (And I imagine this being said with a pompous twirl of a scarf as this person walked away—which seems more insulting than it ought to be).

            Luckily, I didn’t have both symptoms of stomach flu (vomiting and diarrhea) at the same time. I had the former, primarily, which wasn’t a picnic. I’m not sure who enjoys uncontrollable vomiting, but I’m sure there’s a select group of people out there, and they must have a magazine. If it’s out of print, I’d like to have an issue or two to see what headlined the front cover.

            “Finally lost control and I liked it!”

            And…

            “The colors that came out of me! (And what this means for your horoscope!).”

            If you have a mind like mine (which you don’t, so feel lucky), you start to contemplate the phrase “At the same time,” a little too literally. I started to wonder what it would be like to vomit and have diarrhea…but coming out of the same end. Imagining both in conjunction with the sphincter isn’t very creative since most diarrhea already feels like vomiting and feces are typical combo meal, like surf and turf (which is, ironically, would be a great name for this condition in the first place). No, we’ve all experienced that liquid-blast-hybrid-mix diarrhea of the flu before, that’s nothing new.

            I mean the other way around: what if diarrhea took the stairs and came out the esophagus along with uncontrollable vomiting?

            Knowing my luck, and history of bowel movements, it wouldn’t be liquid-based and runny diarrhea, but a thick, slow trickler inching upwards towards the roof of my mouth, as stubborn as a cork untwisting from a bottle of overly carbonated champagne. After a few bouts of vomiting, there would be a backup, and nothing would come out. It would sound like an engine that would not turn over (gerp, geep!), and my airway would be completely clogged. My head would jerk as though something ought to be happening, but nothing would eject.

            In a panic, I’d race about the bathroom, looking for anything to unclog my throat. Rummaging through drawers and wasting precious oxygen, I’d look for a roto-rooter. Only, I don’t know that is, I’ve only heard of its use of unclogging clogs. Instead, I’d find an old, dusty toothbrush, a skinny one, and cram it down my throat, only I’m too slow to recognize that I’m compacting feces into my airway instead of poking a hole through the blockage.

            With my muscles weakening from the lack of oxygen, my vision gets blurry. I can’t call anyone, can’t text 9-1-1 because it will be too late, and I will be the only human being besides some sick, medieval torture victims to have died from human waste crammed in their breathing tube.

            Then, the answer would hit me: there are straws in a downstairs kitchen drawer. Quickly, I would retrieve one, pushing it through the thick sewage. After using up a few straws (they get clogged, too—you’ve never had a McFlurry before? Same problem), the last one gets through, and I can breathe like someone with intense emphysema (or so I’ve been told by drug-resistance programs since I was a kid—“It’s like breathing through a straw!” they told us over and over again. And then a police officer would pass out straws and have us breath for two minutes only through the straw and would receive a prize at the end if we could do it. We all did, because it turns out that breathing through the nose is silent, and there were many winners that day–to the shock and awe of the Township’s finest).

            Anyway, I survive long enough to text a family member, debating if I should receive the Heimlich Maneuver or just call 9-1-1. I pass on both and decide to drive myself to the hospital, leaning over the steering wheel in such a way that doesn’t bend the straw lodged in my throat. After pulling up to the ER entrance, a nurse would surely see what was the matter, shake her head (ER nurses have seen it all), and say, “Stomach flu, huh? I’m sorry to hear that. Vomiting and diarrhea? AT THE SAME TIME?! This way please…”

            And then the world materializes. 

            I’m sitting at the breakfast table with my parents. We’ve just finished a discussion about coupon codes for buying scented soaps for Christmas. All is quiet. I shrug, sip my coffee (it’s cold, I spit it out), and think, “That was a weird thought. I should write that down.”

***

THE KYLE RITTENHOUSE VERDICT

            Like most of America, I’ve been trying to conceptualize how this guy was found Not Guilty on all counts. Also, like most of America, I’m not surprised that he was acquitted. In trying to understand how it all happened, I’ve found the best answer possible, and it turns out the musical Chicago handled this exact situation some 46 years ago in 1975.

            So, if you’d like a recap of what happened in the trial (missing the sobs and cries of another white man realizing he may feel guilty about killing two people, of course), please see the video below:

***

I have one recommendation for this week and it’s the entire Shang-Chi and The Legend of the Ten Rings album.

The track selections are some of the best hip hop, rap, and pop songs I’ve heard in a long time. The entire album is a joy, particularly “In the Dark” by Swae Lee and Jhené Aiko, as well as “Fire in the Sky” by Anderson .Paak. Please, check it out!

Shang-Chi and the Legend of the Ten Rings ALBUM

***

Wishing everyone as well as they can be. You’re not alone out there,

November 23, 2021 0 comments
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