There's nothing like a rant about Halloween to get everyone involved in the debate. I love it. If you don't know what I'm talking about, please see the comments with the last post. And no, there were no trick-or-treaters on our street today. That's probably partially because it was so freaking cold.
The best thing, by far, about Halloween is the discount candy sale on November 1st. I'm planning on hitting the stores tomorrow, although the selection in Three Hills is pretty slim, and I have class until 12:00, and then the gym, so I'm not even sure I'll get any. But you know, it's worth a try. Even a little bit of cheap Halloween candy works for me.
You know, I just looked at those two paragraphs and thought to myself, "Yep, that's pretty much all I have to say." Isn't that sad? But really, I'm having a boring type of week. School is actually taking a little bit of a breather right now, which is refreshing. And I just got a one week reprieve from doing my class presentation, which was supposed to happen this Thursday. The class that usually keeps me uber busy with the readings doens't have any this week, so I really don't have much on the ol' plate. That will change, and soon, but it's nice while it lasts. Oh yeah, I have a test on Thursday, but I'm not really concerned about it. Maybe I should be, I don't know.
On the good news front, I finally have all my graduation requirements sorted out, so that's nice. Turns out that even though I'm on-campus, I'm going to be graduating as a distance education student. Turns out I'm the guinea pig here, because apparently nobody has ever done this before. Makes me feel kinda special. Warm fuzzies, and all.
Oh, except for the part where nobody really knows what to do with me. I finally found someone who could give me answers, after going to two others who couldn't. At least someone knows what's happening. And I'm pretty sure she's just making it up as she goes, too. Actually, she freely admits that there's really no precedent, so the rules are just sort of being made up while we're in progress. Fun, but not exactly reassuring. Oh well, as long as I can walk across the platform in a goofy hat and get a piece of paper with my name on it and some letters (preferably the letters "B" and "A" in that order), I'm good. Don't really care how I get there, actually; I only care that I get there in the end.
But this whole prospect of graduating in April now raises a new spectre for us. Actually, it's an old spectre that we've managed to ignore until now, and I want to ignore it more, but I can't. Yes, it's the old "what do you want to be when you grow up" question, and it's coming back at us in full force. April seems a long way away right now, but I know it's not. Heck, Theo was born almost nine months ago, and time has just flown by. In fact, this is now week nine of this semester, which means this semester is almost 2/3 gone. Wow. April suddenly doesn't seem that far away.
What makes the whole thing harder is that I'm not even sure where our goalposts are going to be in April. I've always been somewhat envious of programs that give you a definite idea of what you're going to be doing when you're done. My sister, for example, graduated last April with her nursing degree. For four years, she worked towards one goal--nursing. The outcome was never in doubt, and she knew that after the four years, she'd go and begin her career as a nurse. I'm oversimplifying, but that's the gyst of it.
I almost wish my degree would do that for me. But that's the problem with these arts degrees--you're never really sure what you'll have at the end of it. For example, my degree prepares me for pastoral ministry. My specialization, if you can call it that, isn't in youth or worship or any other niche; it's in being a pastor. That's pretty broad. And the problem is that even though there is a severe shortage of clergy in North America, the standards for getting a job at a church continue to get higher and higher. So really, I have no chance of actually being a lead pastor, or even an associate pastor, without my master's. All in all, it's pretty frustrating to have worked your butt off for four years (okay, it's actually going to be 10 by the time I get it, but who's counting?) and then not have any idea what's at the other end of that tunnel.
But I suppose this is where that whole element of faith comes in. I really wish we knew, for sure, what was going to happen next. But we don't. And we're slowly coming to the place where we're actually okay with that. Am I going straight back into ministry? If I am, it's going to be in youth or worship, one of the two. Am I going to get my master's? Yes. When? Don't know. Is God even calling us back into ministry right now? If you asked me that two months ago, I would've said no without even having to think about it. But we really feel our hearts being softened as we go along here--wounds that we didn't even know we had being healed. And there were a lot of them. But wounds can't be an excuse to not go on. Does that mean ministry for sure? Don't know. Wish I did. God does.
How's that for a few short, declarative sentences? It may seem simple, but that's what it's coming down to. We need to learn to let go. We try to hold on so tightly that it slips out of our grasp. But if we were to just let go, we'd find things so much easier. I find it difficult to learn that lesson, but again, difficulty can't be an excuse not to go on.
So go on we will. And we'll figure it out. More correctly, we'll let God figure it out. We'll just follow along. Pray for us in this decision-making time--we'd really appreciate it.
See, I told you I could come up with something more to write. I know, you never doubted me. I'll likely have more of the same tomorrow, so please come back then. And thanks for stopping by today; I appreciate it.
10.31.2006
10.30.2006
It Just Doesn't Have the Same Ring...
May I suggest a new song to sing in this festive season of Halloween? Here goes; "I'm dreaming of a white Halloween/Just like the ones I used to know." Okay, wait, that's the point--I never seen a white Halloween before. Until now.
Yes, that's right, there was a snowstorm on Sunday. And it meant that I had to shovel. And let me tell you, there's nothing good about shovelling snow. At least it's nice, light snow, not the dense, wet crap we get back home. When it snows. Which, I assure you, isn't IN OCTOBER!!!!
Now it's just cold. Stinking cold. Don't get me wrong, I'm a big fan of the crisp, clear winter day. In theory. In practice, it's a little harder to swallow. Although, I have to admit that today was spectacular. The sun's normally weak rays seemed that much more chipper today, bouncing off the snow and filling the house with light. That's the really great part about it. And, I have to admit, there's something about walking along on a cold day in the sun that really, I don't know, speaks to me, I suppose. It's just the first bit that's hard to get over, when the cold air hits the back of your throat like a brick and your nose hairs freeze instantly. Too graphic? Sorry.
Anyway, it's still going to be cold all week. And then into next week. But no more snow. So they say. It's Alberta, though, so I'm not getting my hopes up.
Other than that, the weekend was quite pleasant. Yes, I did survive the babysitting day on Saturday. I have to admit that it was a little bit touch-and-go at first. Theo woke up in such a bad mood that I almost broke down at the thought of Steph leaving for the whole day. Fortunately, he sometimes has days like that, and he needs to just take a Mulligan and start over. And he did. And it was good. Being Saturday, there were many sporting events on CBC, so we watched some football and some hockey, we went to the store, we played, we napped. Good times were had by all.
You know, just on a little sidebar, I think it's fascinating to have a particular maneuver named after you. For example, most everyone knows what it means to take a Mulligan. Wouldn't it be neat to have something named after you? Okay, here's a good psychological test--if you had a particular thing named after you, what would it be? For me, it's a bit of a toss-up. I'd either lend my name to some competitive eating move ("Oh, and he pulls a Carroll at the last moment and wins!) or maybe a wrestling hold. Not sure which. What about you? Leave a comment.
Went to a new church this weekend, for a couple of reasons. First, I don't really have any desire to drive 20 minutes to another city in the fresh snow on back roads to go to church. There's something about the irony of getting into a car accident on the way to church that just doesn't hold for me. So we went to a church in town. Second, the pastor's wife was on a pastor's wives panel at the womens' conference this weekend, and wife had this real connection with her. So, of course, I just had to meet her.
Good service, really. Reminded me a lot of going to Richmond Baptist in the 90's. That's not bad, either. That was when people actually took church seriously. And they do here, too. For example, not a single person was drinking coffee in the sanctuary. Many of the men were wearing suits. The leader of the singing was a guy up on the platform waving his hands. And it was great.
There's something about this whole "postmodern" church that gets on my nerves, to be honest. Where's that sense of respect, you know? I mean, if I can wear my ripped jeans and Metallica T-shirt to church, and come in and drink coffee throughout the service, why do I go? I have a feeling that this whole casual church thing has really led to a patent disrespect for the fact that we're still getting together to worship God. That's pretty significant, so why don't we treat it like that?
Maybe it's the fact that I'm taking a course on this right now; maybe it's the books I'm reading; maybe it's just me finally being able to give voice to my frustration. Whatever it is, I want to be in a place where the gathering is taken a little bit more seriously. And that's why we're likely staying at this new church. Even though it's not our "style", there's so much more to it than that.
Enough preaching. Man, you'd think I was training to be a pastor or something. Sheesh. Today was good, too. It's fun, and a little scary, learning how to drive correctly on the hard-packed Alberta snow. Tonight, despite the weather, we had to make a trip to good old Red Deer, because we absolutely had to get groceries, and there's no way I'm stocking up at the Marketplace IGA in Three Hills. Hello, can you say, "rip off"? Anyway, the main highway that goes north from Three Hills and eventually winds up in Sherwood Park (just east of Edmonton) was clear, but the road west to Red Deer was terrible. And, since it gets dark at 5:00 now (thanks a lot, standard time. Stupid change anyway), I wasn't exactly thrilled about having to drive back in the pitch black night on a highway that wasn't exactly in top driving condition. Forutately, I took a chance on a different road back, and it paid off. Note to self: take highway 27 next time instead of 42.
Do you remember me telling you last week how we actually had a good restaurant customer service experience in Alberta? I think I told you. If not, there you go--it's the background. Well, tonight, we actually had another good restaurant customer service experience. That's two in a row! It's almost a streak! ABC restaurant on Gaetz Avenue in Red Deer, friends--that's where the good service is. I left a hefty tip for the guy, because let me tell you, I appreciate good service. And I think this guy should get rewarded for working at a place like ABC when he's good enough to get a job at any restaurant. So good on you, man.
Before I go tonight, and I should do that shortly, considering it's 11:20, I have one more thing to rant about. Well, okay, it's not exactly a rant, but it bugs me a little bit. One of the things we have to agree to as students here is a certain code of conduct that governs us. Now, I don't necessarily agree with everything in the code, but I have to abide by it as a student. One of the things that bothers me about it is the fact that we are not allowed to celebrate Halloween because of its "pagan origins."
You know, I understand the argument, I really do. But I just can't accept it. When we were kids, my sister and I were allowed to take part in Halloween on one condition: no dressing up at demons or witches or anything like that which had a clear tie-in to pagan or occult practices. I think that's fair. And as much as I know that things like Halloween are a matter of personal conscience, and it's always best to err on the side of caution, come on! It's Halloween, for the love of puppies. What's so wrong with little kids dressing up at Superman and collecting candy (besides the stomach-ache from overindulgence)? Maybe we're just a little bit too uptight.
You know what, though? Halloween is a matter of personal preference. And as much as I get mad at the school for pushing their views on me, I know that not everyone agrees with my views either. Here's the lesson I've learned from all this, and I hope it shows a little bit of maturity on my part: sometimes I have to sacrifice the little things in order to live as a member of a functioning community. Sometimes, I have to put my own personal rights and privileges on hold for the betterment of the whole.
Maybe that's the root of our problem in churches. We want church to look like we want it. And if that means we wear our ripped jeans and drink coffee, then so be it, and don't you dare tell me what I can and can't do. But once we start forcing "us" on others, we cease to live in unity and start to live as individuals. And that's just not the point. Something to think about, maybe?
Wow, two sermons in one posting. Sweet. And I haven't even written my sermon for my preaching class yet. Maybe I can preach on that stuff.
Alright, I'm done for the night. Thanks for stopping by, and we'll see you tomorrow, and for the rest of the week.
Yes, that's right, there was a snowstorm on Sunday. And it meant that I had to shovel. And let me tell you, there's nothing good about shovelling snow. At least it's nice, light snow, not the dense, wet crap we get back home. When it snows. Which, I assure you, isn't IN OCTOBER!!!!
Now it's just cold. Stinking cold. Don't get me wrong, I'm a big fan of the crisp, clear winter day. In theory. In practice, it's a little harder to swallow. Although, I have to admit that today was spectacular. The sun's normally weak rays seemed that much more chipper today, bouncing off the snow and filling the house with light. That's the really great part about it. And, I have to admit, there's something about walking along on a cold day in the sun that really, I don't know, speaks to me, I suppose. It's just the first bit that's hard to get over, when the cold air hits the back of your throat like a brick and your nose hairs freeze instantly. Too graphic? Sorry.
Anyway, it's still going to be cold all week. And then into next week. But no more snow. So they say. It's Alberta, though, so I'm not getting my hopes up.
Other than that, the weekend was quite pleasant. Yes, I did survive the babysitting day on Saturday. I have to admit that it was a little bit touch-and-go at first. Theo woke up in such a bad mood that I almost broke down at the thought of Steph leaving for the whole day. Fortunately, he sometimes has days like that, and he needs to just take a Mulligan and start over. And he did. And it was good. Being Saturday, there were many sporting events on CBC, so we watched some football and some hockey, we went to the store, we played, we napped. Good times were had by all.
You know, just on a little sidebar, I think it's fascinating to have a particular maneuver named after you. For example, most everyone knows what it means to take a Mulligan. Wouldn't it be neat to have something named after you? Okay, here's a good psychological test--if you had a particular thing named after you, what would it be? For me, it's a bit of a toss-up. I'd either lend my name to some competitive eating move ("Oh, and he pulls a Carroll at the last moment and wins!) or maybe a wrestling hold. Not sure which. What about you? Leave a comment.
Went to a new church this weekend, for a couple of reasons. First, I don't really have any desire to drive 20 minutes to another city in the fresh snow on back roads to go to church. There's something about the irony of getting into a car accident on the way to church that just doesn't hold for me. So we went to a church in town. Second, the pastor's wife was on a pastor's wives panel at the womens' conference this weekend, and wife had this real connection with her. So, of course, I just had to meet her.
Good service, really. Reminded me a lot of going to Richmond Baptist in the 90's. That's not bad, either. That was when people actually took church seriously. And they do here, too. For example, not a single person was drinking coffee in the sanctuary. Many of the men were wearing suits. The leader of the singing was a guy up on the platform waving his hands. And it was great.
There's something about this whole "postmodern" church that gets on my nerves, to be honest. Where's that sense of respect, you know? I mean, if I can wear my ripped jeans and Metallica T-shirt to church, and come in and drink coffee throughout the service, why do I go? I have a feeling that this whole casual church thing has really led to a patent disrespect for the fact that we're still getting together to worship God. That's pretty significant, so why don't we treat it like that?
Maybe it's the fact that I'm taking a course on this right now; maybe it's the books I'm reading; maybe it's just me finally being able to give voice to my frustration. Whatever it is, I want to be in a place where the gathering is taken a little bit more seriously. And that's why we're likely staying at this new church. Even though it's not our "style", there's so much more to it than that.
Enough preaching. Man, you'd think I was training to be a pastor or something. Sheesh. Today was good, too. It's fun, and a little scary, learning how to drive correctly on the hard-packed Alberta snow. Tonight, despite the weather, we had to make a trip to good old Red Deer, because we absolutely had to get groceries, and there's no way I'm stocking up at the Marketplace IGA in Three Hills. Hello, can you say, "rip off"? Anyway, the main highway that goes north from Three Hills and eventually winds up in Sherwood Park (just east of Edmonton) was clear, but the road west to Red Deer was terrible. And, since it gets dark at 5:00 now (thanks a lot, standard time. Stupid change anyway), I wasn't exactly thrilled about having to drive back in the pitch black night on a highway that wasn't exactly in top driving condition. Forutately, I took a chance on a different road back, and it paid off. Note to self: take highway 27 next time instead of 42.
Do you remember me telling you last week how we actually had a good restaurant customer service experience in Alberta? I think I told you. If not, there you go--it's the background. Well, tonight, we actually had another good restaurant customer service experience. That's two in a row! It's almost a streak! ABC restaurant on Gaetz Avenue in Red Deer, friends--that's where the good service is. I left a hefty tip for the guy, because let me tell you, I appreciate good service. And I think this guy should get rewarded for working at a place like ABC when he's good enough to get a job at any restaurant. So good on you, man.
Before I go tonight, and I should do that shortly, considering it's 11:20, I have one more thing to rant about. Well, okay, it's not exactly a rant, but it bugs me a little bit. One of the things we have to agree to as students here is a certain code of conduct that governs us. Now, I don't necessarily agree with everything in the code, but I have to abide by it as a student. One of the things that bothers me about it is the fact that we are not allowed to celebrate Halloween because of its "pagan origins."
You know, I understand the argument, I really do. But I just can't accept it. When we were kids, my sister and I were allowed to take part in Halloween on one condition: no dressing up at demons or witches or anything like that which had a clear tie-in to pagan or occult practices. I think that's fair. And as much as I know that things like Halloween are a matter of personal conscience, and it's always best to err on the side of caution, come on! It's Halloween, for the love of puppies. What's so wrong with little kids dressing up at Superman and collecting candy (besides the stomach-ache from overindulgence)? Maybe we're just a little bit too uptight.
You know what, though? Halloween is a matter of personal preference. And as much as I get mad at the school for pushing their views on me, I know that not everyone agrees with my views either. Here's the lesson I've learned from all this, and I hope it shows a little bit of maturity on my part: sometimes I have to sacrifice the little things in order to live as a member of a functioning community. Sometimes, I have to put my own personal rights and privileges on hold for the betterment of the whole.
Maybe that's the root of our problem in churches. We want church to look like we want it. And if that means we wear our ripped jeans and drink coffee, then so be it, and don't you dare tell me what I can and can't do. But once we start forcing "us" on others, we cease to live in unity and start to live as individuals. And that's just not the point. Something to think about, maybe?
Wow, two sermons in one posting. Sweet. And I haven't even written my sermon for my preaching class yet. Maybe I can preach on that stuff.
Alright, I'm done for the night. Thanks for stopping by, and we'll see you tomorrow, and for the rest of the week.
10.27.2006
This Blog Never Expires...
I knew it. I knew that I'd pay the price for commenting on the weather to start yesterday's entry. Paid in two ways, actually. Both are disturbing, although one is far more so than the other.
First, the easy one. Woke up this morning to snow on the ground, again. Dang it. While wife and I were walking to school this morning with son strapped to chest in a Snugli, I made a comment about how ironic it was that yesterday I extolled the virtues of the wind on a crisp, cold day, and said that it was actually quite refreshing when it wasn't blowing snow in your face. Well, today I had the opportunity to test that theory. I was right.
The second way I paid for the posting was actually quite disturbing. Just after I posted, I realized I had to make some edits to the bugger, so I did that and reposted. Then I read through it once more in its template, just to see, and lo! there was a comment! I checked it out, thinking that one of you might have been coming by at just the right time. Turns out it wasn't any of you. No, it was some random idiot (I had stronger words for him yesterday) who had stopped by and taken the effort to post the most disgustingly lewd comment I have ever seen, and ever hope to see again. It was horrendous. I actually felt dirty afterwards.
It really shook me. I guess in my naivete, I thought that nobody would be interested in this blog besides those who know us. But I suppose that's the inherent danger of living in a broader community such as this one. There's always one bad apple that spoils the bunch. But hey, mystery comment guy (well, he's not a mystery to me--he has a blog. I went to it. It's just as lewd and disgusting as his comments), I'm going to pray for you. And I don't mean that in some "uber-Christian" Bible-thumping way--I mean it sincerely. You are clearly very troubled and in need of something bigger than yourself to hold on to for meaning. I hope you find it.
Moving on. I had typed something in here that was going nowhere, so I took it out. Sometimes it's just best to start again. And although a segue is difficult from that last topic, I'm going to give it a shot.
Man, that guy really added some spice to my night last night. Speaking of spices, I have a story to tell (nice moves, eh?). The landlords have left a few spices in the cupboard for us, which we assume we're allowed to use. I really hope so, at least. If not, well, that sucks. Anyway, we were using one of these spices a couple of nights ago, and I noticed the expiry date on the top of the bottle: September 29, 2008.
Several things disturb me about this. There's the obvious: that's more than two years away. Holy chemically-induced shelf-life, Batman! Why am I putting this stuff in my mouth, anyway? I think that the time has come for me to give some serious thought to exactly what it is I'm ingesting. No, I'm not going to turn into some crazy health nut (although this whole going to the gym thrice a week is really paying off), nor am I going to be a vegan. I just think that maybe we need to reconsider the equation that tells us that the convenience of having something at the ready isn't worth the fact that we're putting several compounds whose names are more than 30 letters and are completely unpronouncable into our mouths. Just a thought. I'll probably forget it by tomorrow, but for now, I'm committed!
The other thing is just the sheer ridiculousness of that expiry date. Who determined, and how did they do so, that the expiry date would be exactly September 29, 2008. What's so magical about that day. On September 28, everything will be hunky-dory; but woe betide you if you sprinkle the Italian seasoning on your pork chops the day after! It's as if the secret chemical ingredients will hold valiantly on until the 28th, but, due to such things as the interaction of the strong and weak nuclear forces, on the 29th they will be torn asunder, never to have their spicy goodness again. However, I am inclined to believe such things, and it only gives ammunition to point number one. After all, scientists know the exact half-life of every elemental compound known to man--I assume that what they did was plug the masses and numbers into the ol' 286 and voila!--the exact date the chemicals will break down and be useless. And perhaps harmful to human consumption. Silly.
Okay, I'm spent. I know, pretty paltry, and not even all that amusing, but it's Friday, and, well, I'm tired. Looking forward to the weekend--I have babysitting duties all day tomorrow as wife will be off hugging and crying. Depending on the weather, the boy and I might end up on some great adventure across the central Alberta countryside--you never know. But one thing you do know is that I'll be here on Monday to report to you all the sordid details. See you then.
First, the easy one. Woke up this morning to snow on the ground, again. Dang it. While wife and I were walking to school this morning with son strapped to chest in a Snugli, I made a comment about how ironic it was that yesterday I extolled the virtues of the wind on a crisp, cold day, and said that it was actually quite refreshing when it wasn't blowing snow in your face. Well, today I had the opportunity to test that theory. I was right.
The second way I paid for the posting was actually quite disturbing. Just after I posted, I realized I had to make some edits to the bugger, so I did that and reposted. Then I read through it once more in its template, just to see, and lo! there was a comment! I checked it out, thinking that one of you might have been coming by at just the right time. Turns out it wasn't any of you. No, it was some random idiot (I had stronger words for him yesterday) who had stopped by and taken the effort to post the most disgustingly lewd comment I have ever seen, and ever hope to see again. It was horrendous. I actually felt dirty afterwards.
It really shook me. I guess in my naivete, I thought that nobody would be interested in this blog besides those who know us. But I suppose that's the inherent danger of living in a broader community such as this one. There's always one bad apple that spoils the bunch. But hey, mystery comment guy (well, he's not a mystery to me--he has a blog. I went to it. It's just as lewd and disgusting as his comments), I'm going to pray for you. And I don't mean that in some "uber-Christian" Bible-thumping way--I mean it sincerely. You are clearly very troubled and in need of something bigger than yourself to hold on to for meaning. I hope you find it.
Moving on. I had typed something in here that was going nowhere, so I took it out. Sometimes it's just best to start again. And although a segue is difficult from that last topic, I'm going to give it a shot.
Man, that guy really added some spice to my night last night. Speaking of spices, I have a story to tell (nice moves, eh?). The landlords have left a few spices in the cupboard for us, which we assume we're allowed to use. I really hope so, at least. If not, well, that sucks. Anyway, we were using one of these spices a couple of nights ago, and I noticed the expiry date on the top of the bottle: September 29, 2008.
Several things disturb me about this. There's the obvious: that's more than two years away. Holy chemically-induced shelf-life, Batman! Why am I putting this stuff in my mouth, anyway? I think that the time has come for me to give some serious thought to exactly what it is I'm ingesting. No, I'm not going to turn into some crazy health nut (although this whole going to the gym thrice a week is really paying off), nor am I going to be a vegan. I just think that maybe we need to reconsider the equation that tells us that the convenience of having something at the ready isn't worth the fact that we're putting several compounds whose names are more than 30 letters and are completely unpronouncable into our mouths. Just a thought. I'll probably forget it by tomorrow, but for now, I'm committed!
The other thing is just the sheer ridiculousness of that expiry date. Who determined, and how did they do so, that the expiry date would be exactly September 29, 2008. What's so magical about that day. On September 28, everything will be hunky-dory; but woe betide you if you sprinkle the Italian seasoning on your pork chops the day after! It's as if the secret chemical ingredients will hold valiantly on until the 28th, but, due to such things as the interaction of the strong and weak nuclear forces, on the 29th they will be torn asunder, never to have their spicy goodness again. However, I am inclined to believe such things, and it only gives ammunition to point number one. After all, scientists know the exact half-life of every elemental compound known to man--I assume that what they did was plug the masses and numbers into the ol' 286 and voila!--the exact date the chemicals will break down and be useless. And perhaps harmful to human consumption. Silly.
Okay, I'm spent. I know, pretty paltry, and not even all that amusing, but it's Friday, and, well, I'm tired. Looking forward to the weekend--I have babysitting duties all day tomorrow as wife will be off hugging and crying. Depending on the weather, the boy and I might end up on some great adventure across the central Alberta countryside--you never know. But one thing you do know is that I'll be here on Monday to report to you all the sordid details. See you then.
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