<< May 2010
Thursday, April 29th, 2010
Spring sprunging
Came home yesterday.
Did a little bit of gardening before I set off. When I pruned the damson trees earlier this year I stuck a branch into the ground just to get it out of the way. It is now covered with blossom! I have seen a lot of butterflies over the last few days, there were fritillaries seemingly fighting it out at the bottom of this garden, and I have seen a brimstone out front, and on the way to Three Bridges station I saw two blues, I think holly blues; as well as others sighted at a distance.
The journey back was relaxed and dry. I walked past the Betjeman Arms, feeling I needed a holiday from drink. One thing of note though was meeting the people behind the organization of THE BEATLES HIDDEN GALLERY. Nice people, and fascinating to listen to.
I got home to discover the dole office home visit I thought was Thursday (today) was Wednesday. I called them today and they seemed ok about it, and they can stop my benefit for less.
Afterwards I worked in gardens; both my own garden and the widow's, rather the garden next door to the widow; which was abandoned long before the house was; and could easily become a scummer magnet.
Tuesday, April 27th, 2010
Curry favour
I was due to meet John in London today to talk about the possible prgramme for a Curry & Kipling, one which may lead to other bookings. Unfortunately a big charity show he is organizing for tomorrow had issues because of Icelandic ash, and he had to cancel the meeting.
I was going to seize the day by going on the traditional bluebell walk from the Holmbush in Faygate to the Frog and Nightgown; but I cooked a beef curry for dinner, which we could not eat until the nurse had turned up to take a big blood sample from dad (it being a test after fasting) and she was late; which is dodgy for a diabetic. Ma did not give him his long term insulin in the morning, but I think that is because of my advice. It is really difficult to know what the medical industry has actually said to them.
Had a better look at the bluebells of the ancient woodbank of the Hawth, then went looking for a librarian to talk to about a possible Sussex Day show (and failed to find the one I wanted, and needed), then went to pubs to drink beer (and succeeded to my satisfaction).
Before I come down again I need to go to U-Save and get wall hooks or face plates, and possibly steel wire to ensure the power supply to the garage here stays on.
Monday, April 26th, 2010
Cooking and cutting
Did two shops at Crawley, cut my dad's hair, and cooked sweet and sour duck for lunch and soup for dinner, both using yesterday's roast.
Ma loves pasta and noodles, dad has always set his mouth against it. I the past I have usually cooked something else starchy for him. Today he had no choice, although I did cut up his noodles so he could eat them with a fork. He kept repeating it was delicious.
One of the walks to town was through the Hawth. The bluebells are just starting to come out.
Sunday, April 25th, 2010
Iain Burnside fairwell
It was Iain Burnside's last Sunday Morning show on Radio 3 today. I have loved this show, and not just because he has read out my comments more than once. I mailed the below:
Dear Iain
For me, your show has been one of my few 'must listen' things in, what seems like, an ever deadening weight of formulas and clones radio. I will miss it.
Thanks for the pleasure and provoked thoughts. Hope things have the best balance of rhythm, melody and harmony, with enough dissonance to keep things exciting for you.
Iain read out the last part and the producer mailed back. He may have sent lots of them out, but still a nice touch.
Dear Glyn,
Thank you SO much for this - it's incredibly kind of you to write in like this, and I have a presenter next door who's very touched indeed to hear that his work has been enjoyed, and that he's going to be missed.
Thank you for listening, for taking the trouble to write to us, and all best wishes,
I did very little today, apart from roast a duck and mow the back lawn. The champagne I bought before getting on the coach yesterday went down well; though ma had a huff when I told her off for spoiling the occasion, not so much by telling dad not to drink too much, but by shouting at him when he reacted badly. He always does and he always will, and the fact she had a glass of the stuff inside makes her fly off the handle. Things calmed down quickly, because I did not get involved in a fight, I just told them to be quiet.
Saturday, April 24th, 2010
Down, down
By the time I got 'home' Ma was in bed but dad was still up watching the snooker. She got up to describe the food available in minute detail, but did go back to bed. They seem OK but I need to see them through a day.
The journey down was by Megabus. I crossed Mayo Avenue to tell two young mothers that they were stood at the wrong stop. I cannot be sure that the coach would not have picked them up anyway when it went back down to the M606, and Megabus' website clearly shows the side they were stood at, but being certain of getting on the coach because I told them is better than the chance of missing it.
It is the best time of spring. Wild primroses are out, as are the intense yellow of the gorse, and both cherry and hawthorn are in bloom, and so are the damsons at my parents, with the apple's blossom just emerging. Best of all: lots of different of the deciduous tress are setting leaf; but not all; so bare are mixed with delicate pontils of light or bright green. All this seen from the coach (the train from East Midlands had very dirty windows).
Curry Note Went to the Karachi for a curry yesterday. I eat so rarely in curry houses now I am hardly a judge, but I would say it was a basic and sound bradford curry; and had a salad starter (though with no mint and white cabbage instead of onion) and good chapatties; and the cost for two starters and mains was just over £13, so still incredible value.
Saturday, April 24th, 2010
Show notes
Very quick note.
Thursday's show was, in terms of my own artistic and business management growth, the best yet.
I did the most singing; had the most sympathetic musician (TC) who is the first one where we both agree we could develop a show together; I performed well; and the audience was extremely positive. Special mentions to Alison and the lovely Bev.
In terms of business growth that was because of the way I did not get upset about things not done or attended to. I did not get at all wound up (apart from Tuesday night). I know I can not do everything, Bev forcibly agreed; but I need to find better ways of making sure that things are done.
The fact I was not stressed at the show means I can make much better judgement than even the recent past. Had a three way meeting with Roger the day after to return the projector, and it was good to have a person who has seen me at my most stressed after a show, and one who has only seen me at my least stressed after a show.
Did a little bit of gardening this morning in the sun.
Wednesday, April 21st, 2010
Chill zone
Yesterday I was more stressed than I had been for months, or more. Today I am right chilled. On the other hand the fuse on my freezer blew. Lucky I had an ice cream just after it stopped; though eating the rest of the ice creams before they dripped out may explain some of the below; even allowing for the extra insulin.
It might be physical, or psychological (that's the first time I have spelled psychological right first time! And I nearly got it wrong in this clause.). When I finished the slideshow a massive weight lifted, and Roger's willingness to help meant I did not have to travel to Keighley at a nightmare time. On the other hand I discovered the rearranged Restart (hitting the engine with a hammer to give bureaucrats a wage) interview at the Jobcentre (see above) was booked for next Tuesday, a day I had fixed to see someone who might get me a paid performance. Fixed up the interview for another day, then got a letter telling me the Dole Gastapo visit would be on that day. Ho-hum.
Did a BCB drive time interview at 17.45 (no idea if it is on listen again). A fine couple of minutes, but I had to talk whilst the presenter who knew me left the room, and the other was fine, but a bit like women I talk at on a bus. I will try and remember to ask who heard it tomorrow; but for all the stress working around the interview caused I doubt it will prove to be pay dirt.
Went to TC's house to sort music. I tell you what, tomorrow's show will be a unique, once in a life time show; even more so than the average, or the unaverage for my shows I suppose. I think I will enjoy it, and pleasure is almost as infectious as misery
Tuesday, April 20th, 2010
Ash
Today is my father's 86th birthday. I should have flown down on Sunday, but obviously could not, and left it too late to get any other transport I could afford. It is a shame not to be there, but I managed to get the vile Hewlet Packard F2480 to work and did him a card which he enjoyed.
Aircraft are moving again over bits of Britain, can I just point out that the BBC and other media started reporting dissatisfaction with the whole way the farce has been handled, for four days I called NATS wankers. It is not just them, it is a society riven by fear and incapable of thought.
At least staying put has meant I can write and produce the show in a more relaxed manner than I would if I was hither and dither. Since Saturday I have stayed in and worked, without alcohol as well. At least I could relax through most of the day until I started getting my own little dust cloud. It is all to do with having to be in three places tomorrow, the most inconvenient t being the closest. A BCB interview fixed for 5.40; I did not fix it and one of the other critical things now has to be done in the evening; pushing the third thing into the evening as well.
On the plus side: today I finished a new piece The Lay of Saint, George, and his quest to slay a dragon. It's in the style of Albert and the Lion, and not bad
Saturday, April 17th, 2010
NATS are a set of tax eating, clueless wankers.
Eeee. That were a day an all!
I was asked if I would be as angry about British airspace being closed if I was not booked to fly. The honest answer is yes, very much so, but I may not be expressing the anger quite so loud. Al-Qaeda hardly need to exist to destroy 'Western' civilisation. Overpaid women of both sexes will do it much more effectively if you give them power without responsibility; and that's what NATS have.
Went to Otley to see Bev dancing with the Rainbow Morris troup. I enjoyed it so much I stopped for the second show, and gave up the chance of seeing City Vs Burton for a tenner. As a reward I got to meet Bev's cats (and I saw some of her family). 15 year old Ziggey liked me and not only laid on me when resting on the sofa, purring like a 2 stroke lawnmower, but came and tried to get close up and personal when I was trying to get the telly to switch to Dave.
On my way home I called in to the Lloyds in Shipley (and talked to a chef at the Woolly Sheep in Skipton, and the firey lass he was with). I then walked from town to the reopened Rafters. It is up for sale, but is being run by a temporary licensee. If you live local then you should pop in,
The is actually a lot not in the above, including the market trader who told me a shoe did not have steel toecaps; I pressed the back of the cap, told him he was bullshitting and walked off. I probably could have done more, but hey! It's not as if I get angry very often.
Friday, April 16th, 2010
What is the name of the idiot from Nats who lied about danger to aircraft from dust? It has been wiped from the net.
British airspace is controlled by a private company called Nats, who have stopped all flights because of a cloud of volcanic ash from Iceland a lot less significant than Iceland produced in 92 (a few dozen cancellations), 63 ( a new island formed with head sized rocks being flung half a mile in the air) and at least two other occasions in the last 4 decades.
Nats (National Air Traffic Service) are yellow bellied, pus brained, gobshiting clowns that could not run piss down their own leg. Aircraft engines are far better able to survive ingestion than they were, even in 92, let alone 63. England, the new sulking home of cowardice, was the first to close airspace, I bet it will be the last to open it again. I would name the tosser who said planes had flown into dust clouds and not flown out (which is a contemptible lie, it is like saying trains have driven into fog and not driven out; there have been train crashes in fog; and maybe airline crashes in dust, but I cannot think of one, and I bet the wanker from Nats can't either). The trouble is his name is now erased from the record, and the fart catching BBC are nothing if not rigid upholders of mandarin statement.
On my own matters I spent a lot of quality time on writing next weeks show; my definition of quality being that I both produced something, and enjoyed it (or at least did not feel ill for doing it).
Went to meet with TC Melodeon at Fanny's to talk about the show. We got on right grand I I have a very good feeling about how it will go.
Thursday, April 15th, 2010
Catch up
The important news is that dad was finally let out of hospital yesterday. Ma seems to be coping.
I had a meeting with Sam on Tuesday. It turned into a long session. I talked to John, a nice bloke I have known for, probably, 3 decades. I knew him from watching Bradford City. He lent me a season ticket so I could see that night's game, Vs Morecambe, and ran off before I could force it back on him, so I had to go in order to return it!
I enjoyed the game, a 2-0 to City, and I was the only person near me not feeling freezing. I am sure it was the fleece and not the beer overcoat.
Thanks to Bev I have fixed up a melodeon player called TC for the Knight with St George Show.
Thursday, April 15th, 2010
Hewlett Packard Deskjet F2480
The catching up of the last few days will follow in the next blog. This one is reserved for righteous anger.
The Hewlett Packard Deskjet F2480 is the worst printer I have ever owned. Build quality, printer performance, scanning abilities, software, noise, speed; every single one of those is worse than any inkjet I can remember.
Monday, April 12th, 2010
Bad job job centre
The 'advisor' at my 'restart' interview last week failed to note I would be signing on in Crawley, and booked what he said was an interview at Bradford College today. It turned out that it was not an interview but the first day of a five day course, at least it would have been if a tutor had turned up to take it. Of the 30 or so people there not one in 5 knew it was for 5 days!
I did not take charge but I did go an demand something be done at the front desk, demanded they stick to their promises, and negotiated with the subcontracted woman, named on the letter, 'who just books the rooms', when she turned up.
Me and one other went down the Jobcentre at complain (though I had to go anyway to hand in a B7 and my fortnightly accounts). We had to wait around 30 minutes, got an apology but we did not get a chance to complain about the appalling way the Jobcentre had treated us in sending us without any information. I had no insulin and would have had to have left at lunchtime for a start.
Dad should be out of hospital tomorrow. I judge mum is well enough to cope.
I forgot to mention that I was interviewed by the BBC on Saturday morning. It was long and they asked me to name redheaded footballers for them to put photos to. I have no idea if they used any part of the interview.
I found out over the weekend that I have good hands and sweet breath (though that may be because of the diabetes) and that I snore regardless of whether I am on my back or side.
Sunday, April 11th, 2010
Raising the scarlet standard high!
A fantastic and very tiring weekend.
I went down to Radio Leeds' Bradford studio yesterday morning to Daragh Corcoran's Saturday Morning Show to talk about The Great British Redhead Festival.
It was a good interview, and I played my 8 foot horn live on air, but the show is not on listen again, leastways not when I looked. If it gets put on I am 3 hours 15 into the show (09.15).
Had met up with Bev and Sam, who drove us to Morley, and Anzir turned up from Leeds. The day was a massive success. It was all good fun.
I did a very good talk on The History and Mystery of Red Hair to a lovely audience; but my highlight was selling Ed Balls, Secretary of State for Children, Schools and Families two Wayne Jacobs Little Red Head Books. For proof see this photo. I am the one with the hat
A good day was made an even better weekend better by being with friends.
Friday, April 9th, 2010
Wouldn't you like to fly...
Flew back to Leeds Bradford Airport from Gatwick with Flybe. A first for me. In terms of both time and cost it is balanced. The single trip cost £62, which included £12 added for no given reason (it was advertised as £24, then £26 was added for tax &c after I clicked the buy button, which is £12 short of the ^62 they took from me when I clicked 'buy'). That is about the price I would expect to pay for a pre-booked Three Bridges - Bradford ticket.
The plus side is I can get a bus to Gatwick from near my parents house for £1.60; the down side is that if Sam had not taken me home I would have had to wait an hour for a bus, which took the best part of an hour to get to Bradford; leaving me to walk home after missing the last bus. Or I could have paid the monopoly taxi firm to take me home, or rather to Bradford centre unless I was willing to force the issue.
Gatwick is still vile though. Too hot, too confusing, and less than no effort to cater for people waiting at the gates. The walk from the 'bus stop to the terminal is like being part of a Kojak episode, one where the body is dumped in an underground loading bay; or like the first modern gobshite Batman film, where Bruce Wayne's parents are murdered after getting lost.
Back on the plus side is the fact that have always enjoyed flying, and it is still a bit of a novelty. The Wetherspoons was over 40p cheaper than a pint than the Betjeman Arms, and with a better selection as well. There is no view of aircraft from the hard sell mall that has replaced the departure lounge; and there is nothing but machines once you start walking to your gate, and there are a pathetic number of toilets air-side. Once at the gate glasshouse we were all sweating, but I was the only one looking out of the window at the aircraft tugs and refuelling engines working.
Dad is still in East Surrey Hospital, but me leaving her today was far more relaxed than the norm. I did a bit of a shop and planted out herbs for her in the morning. And for all the issues about flying into LBA at 21.00 there are compensations in leaving after your mum has cooked pancakes for supper.
Thursday, April 8th, 2010
Carpet bragger
Dad has had a test to see if he can walk up and down stairs, which he passed with flying colours, and that is a weight off the mind. He will be kept in though until his blood has been thinned to safe levels. Practically, that probably means he is in for the weekend.
I had a long chat with the staff on the desk. They assured me that his not only his physical issues will be reported to social services, but also mother's, and his growing trend to confusion.
I the morning I did some old and useless document shredding, trying to get rid of as much as I could of the 20 kg bag Basil sorted last week.
Yesterday I washed the rugs on the landing. Today I set off to fix them down so as to be less of a trip hazard. I ended up taking up, cutting and relaying the top third of the stair carpet. When ma laid it she started the landing side of the top step, used underfelt, and folded and pleated the carpet as it went round the corner. That meant a high bulge at top, bulges on the front face of all the corner stairs, and a moving carpet because of those bulges. I cut off at least a metre, using a new snap knife that I had to hold together with chewing gum, and a decades old knife that I sharpened on a whet stone.
It was the warmest day so far this year. I saw my first ladybird, and hawthorn in bloom, joining the cherry blossom I saw yesterday.
I should be on Radio Leeds at 09.15 this Saturday morning talking about the Red Head Fest.
Wednesday, April 7th, 2010
Mini Geoff
Folk News
Dad Looks no worse and is fretting to be in his own bed, but no real news.
Mum Much better. We spent nearly an hour in their bank further sorting stuff that Basil started clearing. We got a taxi there and back, but still a trip for her. There was no planning between me and my bro on this, but we functioned as a winning team. He got the juggernaut moving and I am getting the wheels turning more smoothly. My questions resulted in them paying £20 a month less on insurance, and I am now hunting down about the same in unknown standing orders; and both me and my mum now have a better idea of what she and my dad have.
The only shame of the bank trip was that the timing meant I only had time for fluid removal when after getting the taxi back with ma, before going out again for buses to East Surrey Hospital; and got there with only 10 minutes of visiting time left.
Stop for pints in Crawley on the way back. In the Swan people took my photo because I looked like Geoff, orJeff. I have a feeling this has happened before, but cannot be bothered reading my blog to find out. Some bloke took me to a photo of Geoff, and I can see a resemblance.
Soon after I felt a soft touch on my back. I turned around to see a girl of between 13 and 17. When I looked at her she looked really shocked and backed away. I smiled and said I'm not Geoff! She backed out of the pub saying how sorry she was.
I wondered if I had been mistaken for a dealer, but that did not seem to fit. I asked what Geoff did for a living, and the chorus reply was Not a lot! But it turns out he has lots of nieces
On the walk back to my parents I got talking to (Real meaning: He forced conversation on) two really nice Delta stewardesses walking back to their hotel, who told me they much prefer flying to Gatwick and stopping over in Crawley, than flying into Heathrow. I wanted to get them fired up about Hawth Wood and a possible visit, and they can see it from their window, but doubt I did more than sow a seed near stony ground. If I could remember their names I would have written this blog the other way around, in case they actually check my website.
Monday, April 5th, 2010
Da da
Dad looked as well as he did no my last visit; maybe a bit better; but the real concern, or rather my real concern, is whether him and my mum can both cope with his worsened condition. It is partly down to his physical decay, but the bigger concern is his lifelong mental fragility.
When I arrived at the ward he said I was to sit on the chair he was on and he would get on the bed. Chairs are almost as rare as staff who actually know what is going on at East Surrey Hospital, and I thought he wanted to lie down, so I did not stop him; but when he need help to get up, and I realised I had no more idea of how to help him up without bruising him than I have of being successful, then I thought of the near future's pitfalls.
Worse then came. He sat on the bed. A nurse came and casually asked if he was cold. He said no. I asked him again and he said: I've got this dressing gown on I asked him again and he said: I've got a jumper on. I did not make a blanket appear (and I should have) but I did tell him gently, too gently I think, that telling us he was fine when he was not was lying. I am sorry, but it is. It is lying that may have been beaten into him 80 years ago, but it makes helping him more difficult by a quantum amount (by human emotions measure). The strange thing is that it does not have any affect with my growing love for him. I may even grow to like him, and the 50 years of anger baggage may not have to follow me till death do us part.
At the bus stop coming back I got talking to a woman who was visiting her mother, who had terminal emphysema.
We just got talking, and I mentioned the sun shining on old Redhill loony hospital in fine site of the stop, and it turned out she had worked there.
We then got on to talking about loonies. I told her about my granny and the poker with which she was going to beat out my asthma.
She said, as is required by the weight of cliche:
But what's (fingers in the air quote marks); normal.
To which I instantly replied:
It's obvious! I am!
She eventually laughed, and I did point out that the maddest people are the ones drawn to work with the mad; but she was impressed with my summation of the selling of the old mental hospitals (where, with luck, someone could find refuge from a cruel and frightening world) to no funding Care in the community (my arse) because friends of the Tory Government saw that they could make billions by buying cheap ex-hospitals and reselling them, at no cost and effort. An attitude Tony Blair took to his heart and soul, and made more ruthless.
I fecking hate Tony Blair. At the age of 21 I could not imagine ever hating any living politician more than Margaret Thatcher; but Tony did it. To be fair, if the people of Northern Ireland/Ulster keep off killing each other for an other ten years, that is a worthy footnote of history (though one written after all the others have had due credit, especially the men who risked their lives for little money to keep some peace); but against that is the country we see today.
I wonder if I can find a happy course, or possibly coarse, where I can create without without having to be in drink and upsetting people (if upsetting people is the critical thing, though now I have written it, no! That's toss. A path that just involves creating it is the important thing. My relationship with the world is down to me behaving better with what I carry. And I do believe in behaving well) I finished a bracket correctly, in terms of having two enclosing words. I am sure they are inappropriately used, but intention is more important than outcome, unless you suffer from localised brain damage (This week's New Scientist) where you think killing someone by accidentally poisoning them is much worse than trying to kill someone by poison, and failing by accident.
I have had talks about alcohol and risk recently. I tell you, this is just the lunacy talking, honest!
Sunday, April 4th, 2010
Happy Easter
A relaxed and reflective day.
Mother has been fasting for Lent. To celebrate Easter I cooked cooked her and me French roast lemon chicken. I am getting good at it. I also did roast potatoes and steamed leek, cabbage and mushroom. I also did strawberries in her cherry vodka, with grated mint chocolate.
Basil called to wish us a happy Easter and we called the hospital to do the same for dad.
Had pause and cause to think about my pasts and futures. I have not formed a new family, at least not one that lasted and grew. Everyone is attracted to people like themselves and their family. I have always said that the women I form any kind of relationship seem to be mad, or more than usually mad for a woman (though they have obviously formed a relationship with me, so could claim the same).
I am now wondering if the fact my family seem to be getting mentally healthier (whilst admittedly getting less so physically) changes my relationship prospects; and also whether I have to make a relationship like my parents. Put simply one frightened (but not able to accept direction or help) and the other directing but not really wanting to. Fear, anger and fear of responsibility I think run deep. On the other hand the result is at least some originality.
Saturday, April 3rd, 2010
Pa & ma
Dad and mum both seem fitter today, but there will be nowt happening with dad until he is seen by the cardiologist, and when I asked the ward sister if that would be Tuesday her body language strongly suggested that Tuesday would be lucky.
A day of doing almost nothing but cooking and shopping yesterday meant the walk to the bus station and the long drag bus to the hospital was not as wearing as Thursday. One of mum's oldest friends (June) was taken into the same hospital yesterday. I went to see her after I'd seen dad. Ma had written her a card, and I made her write one for her husband as well! (He did not recognise the handwriting, nor could he read her signature, which tells you all you need to know really about my family). June's daughter, Sue, was there and I got a lift back.
I was going to do the second shop of the day at the Lidl by the bus stop in Horley on the way back (and drink some beer in the Jack Firman's), but was glad to get straight back. I meant to go and see a band tonight, but just felt too tired to go out. Tired but relaxed.
Thursday, April 1st, 2010
No news good, and lots of it.
I have been to see dad. He looks better than I expected. There was no new news, the latest being the opinion given yesterday that he may have had a mild heart attack, which is better news than him having kidney failure; but it is still hypothesis.
Had a long and important talk with Basil. He has done a massive amount of work at the parents home clearing stuff. He is much better at that than I ever will be. He set of back to his monastery in time to take part in the important Maundy Thursday service. It was fortunate I was so ill last week. Being ill meant I could not have dome down, and that makes so many things in my life less complicated than they would have been. If I had been ill this week it would have made Basil's life much more complicated over the Easter vigil.
I had a restart interview yesterday, and the home visit was postponed. I will have to go for an interview at Bradford College. I do not mind as long as they can offer me a course that actually helps, rather than just one so they can get money by taking me off the dole.
The rail strike is making my life very complicated. I have been trying to fix up a meeting to talk about a paid for Curry & Kipling Show, possibly leading to a series. I have had to give up on that idea.
After signing I hung a banner I had finished painting in the morning for A Knight with St George outside the Delius Centre. I also set up a PayPal button for tickets (£5.50 inc. p&p).
The train trip was very late. I treated it as a calm before potential storm, and relaxed. At Victoria I rescued a young woman trying to find a Sutton train on her own for the first time.
I have a list of must do jobs from Basil, which will occupy me.
I forgot to mention that I got a cheque covering the loss I made on the Walburgas from Bradford Concil, and applied for a loss guarantee for A Knight with St George yesterday. The dole processing is going to throw a fit; and a late one because I aam likely to be signing on away from home, and furnishing proof late.
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