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Saturday, March 7th, 2009
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9:11 pm - Boom
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So I was on my way home the other day. I'd had a right terrible journey. Left work late (so, what's new?) and when I got to Charing Cross for the 19:37 discovered it'd been cancelled. Great. So I had three options. Wait half an hour for the next one (meh), get a bus (it's be quicker to walk), or go to London Bridge and hope to catch a train to Norwood Junction or Crystal Palace and then get a bus to Anerley. Decided on the latter.
Got to London Bridge, some muppet had decided to take a leisurely walk down the train tracks near Bromley. Great. So all trains were suspended until futher notice. Great. Because the power to the tracks had been turned off. Super.
There was a rumour flying around the waiting commuters that one of the trains was going to Sutton and its first stop would be Norwood junction. Great :) So V and I got on it. And then we waited. And waited. And waited some more. And then we were all told that the power had been swtiched back on at Brockley and we'd be on the move soon. And we waited. And waited some more. And then, finally, it left and, bar a go-slows and "on a red signal"s we made it to Norwood Junction. And then, we saw there was a train going in the opposite direction (first stop Anerley) leaving in four minutes. So we got that.
By the time we arrived at Anerley, it weren't too late at all. It was about 20:20. Could've been much worse. Considering the train from Charing Cross would traditionally arrived into Anerley at about 20:10, that weren't too shabby at all. It was still dark - it's February, it's gone 8pm - so don't think the picture below is that realistic! So we crossed over the bridge [1] and walked out of the station [2].
Across from the station there's this place, Scobles, which is like a plumbing, bathroom and kitchen supplies place. I can't be too sure. I've been living in Anerley for coming up to four years now and I've only ever been in once - to buy one of those bath waste traps - which I installed myself I might add, rather successfully too. Anyway, so across from the station there's this Scobles place and it has a car park and Anerley Station road curves around the outside of it. And, you can shave off probably nothing more than about 2 yards by cutting the corner of the car park ([3] to [4]) rather than walking on the pavement that hugs the road but, sod it, everyone does it and sometimes I'm carrying frozen food or need a wee so that second you save can prevent anything from salmonella or wetting your pants. It makes perfect sense.
So anyway, as we started to walk across the car park, a train was pulling in to Anerley station and I joked that we'd beaten the train we would have got if we'd waited at London Bridge. And as we wouldn't have known how long to wait, and our journey was much more interesting, it was a good thing we'd decided to get a fast train to Norwood Junction and change to another (slow) train that went back the other way. We laughed.
Anyway, so Scobles (you can't see it from the pic), has fairly recently installed a couple of concrete barriers at its entrance, as well as some of those steel ones that stick up from the ground and you need a key to unlock and let down. Presumably because they were fed up with people leaving their cars there overnight. And, as we were walking through the car park, we both noticed there was a car sat in it (at point [5]. A silver sporty one. Looked quite nice. I thought it was weird there was a car inside a closed car park, but didn't say anything.
We'd stopped half-way across the car park so I could remark that we'd beaten the train and flick Vs at its passengers (we'd won, they should've done it our way!), and when we started to walk again, moving to navigate the car park barriers, we noticed a man coming the other way. He looked a bit shifty but I didn't say anything. He was carrying something in his hand but I didn't know what. He looked directly at us but we carried on walking, navigating the barriers while he did the same. It was then that I noticed he was approaching the parked car. "What the f*ck does he think he's doing?" I asked to V. "What?" V asked. "That man. The barriers are up" I nodded towards him/it. "He's probably just getting in to his car" V said. "But he can't go anywhere. The barriers are up," I said. "Weird," said V. V said she saw him approach the car and put his hand on the driver's side door, but I don't recall (the car had reverse-parked into the bay and was pointing toward the road - something I didn't realise until the following morning). I'd seen people walk around the other side of the building so I just assumed there was a path around there leading to the other small road opposite the station but didn't think too much of it.
Until a few seconds later when there was an almighty bang, followed by an explosion and the sound of smashing glass as the car ignited and flames shot up into the night sky. No sooner had I realised what I'd just seen that I saw V had pelted it and was now about 20 yards down the road (off map!) screaming at me to get the f**k away from the there. And I ran for my f**king life. But then stopped and said we had to go back and check out if the man is ok.
When it first exploded, it was shock more than anything. And then fear as I immediately thought the guy must've been caught in the blast and it was some kind of it hit (I've been suspicious of drug deals in the area for a while). But as I ran, I began to think it could just've been a really freak accident and that the guy had gone to his car to retrieve something only for it to explode. But V pleaded that we should just run and we did, and both called the cops, FBrigade, Ambulence. By this point, the train that was pulling up must've stopped in the station and people must've been filtering out to be met with the sight of a car on fire. Lord knows what they thought of it.
But then, he could've done it himself, and this seems the most likely explanation now. The following morning (after a horrendous night of just complete and utter shock and never-ending talk of amazement at it), the burnt out embers of the car was still there, with police tape around it and some guy next to it was on the phone, looking into the heavens and exasperating a lot. It seemed that he may have been the owner of it. Or the owner of Scobles and didn't want a firebombed car putting people off shopping there. In which case, the guy we saw may have just decided he was a little bored one night and decided to torch a car when he realised he couldn't steal it.
Either way, it was one of the most shocking things I've ever seen.
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| Saturday, February 21st, 2009
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11:18 am - The Diagram Prize for Oddest Book Title of the Year
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Far from me to blow my own trumpet but, F**k it...
Along with my good friend Horace Bent, I've been up to the neck in odd titles recently, organising the forthcoming The Bookseller/Diagram Prize for Oddest Book Title of the Year Award. Work has been manic recently so once I'd done with Review of the Yearit was straight into the world's most prestigious literary award that last year received more votes than The Booker of Bookers, I might add. Ha.
I just got off the blower with Wisconsin Public Radio about it and also spoke to Radio Five. Nice. It seems the press release worked (despite one minor spelling mistake) and went out on the wires to various places, including the Beeb, Metro, The Gulf Daily News, The San Fransisco Chronicle, The Winnipeg Free Press,Russia, Canada, Sweden, Pakistan, as well as the Indie, Guardian and The Sun to name but 13. Sweet.
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| Friday, February 20th, 2009
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11:38 pm - The Trimble 9000
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My opinion of University Challenge was always that there was no point in I watching it as it just made me feel thick, but I've really been getting into it this series. It holds a morbid fascination to me these days for three reasons: 1) it's a quiz show after all and even though it's solid, I'll try and answer as many questions as possible. Earlier in the series, there was a whole round on the Large Hadron Collider I managed to get four out of four on which I was particular proud of, in an installment I answered 18 questions right on for a score of 120 points - come on!; 2) it's full of very, very strange and possibly deeply lonely people and I get a slight kick out of watching these people squirm and shouting "Oh man you really need to get out more"; and 3) Paxman.
The final is on Monday - the University of Manchester going up against Corpus Christi Oxford. The latter has an incredibly decent captain (Gail Trimble), albeit an incredibly annoying one depending on your point of view. She's scored 825 of her team's 1,235 point thus far (67%!) and made Exeter University the victim of a 350 to 15 point thrashing in the quarter final - the lowest ever under Paxman's leadership, which began in 1994.
Some recent Twitters on Trimble, lovingly reprinted by TV Scoop:
"If Corpus Christie win University Challenge, I will not be happy. Their smug team captain is the female version of Starter For Ten's Patrick"
"Trimble is killing it, Exeter didn't turn up."
"God Woman! Shut Up!"
"Trimble is on University Challenge again! Will want to punch the telly."
So I went on to Google Blogsearch to look up what other people were saying and even David Ottewell of Manchester Evening News remains in awe: "Manchester would have been hot favourites had it not been for Corpus Christi's secret weapon - Gail Trimble. Or, as I prefer to think of her, the Trimble 9000. She's a quiz monster."
The Guardianmanaged to interview her recently, and she seems well aware of her polarising effect on viewers.
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| Thursday, February 19th, 2009
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3:58 am - Desserts
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If I ever go on Masterchef, here's what I'm gonna cook: Scollops wrapped in parma ham (everyone does scollops and they always go down a treat) followed by a bowl of sugar as I think that's all Gregg Wallace really cares about in food - if it is sweet he almost wets his pants in excitement. In fact, I think if I prepare sugar soup for starters, Ham in Coke for main and a sugar ice-cream made with sugar and sugar, topped with a sugar syrup, I'll be on to a real winner. Sod the "real live kitchen service" round - that never seems to count for didly squat anyway.
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| Tuesday, February 10th, 2009
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2:25 am - Useless Farts
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Further to my post about the uselessness of BT, I have a new favourite enemy: Virgin Media. Since October I'd been unable to receive calls to my home phone. To cut a long story short, I phone up Virgin Media numerous times speaking to numerous different people on each occassion, all of whom apologised and said they'd sort it out and promised they'd call me back and never did and promised it'd take only 72 hours but it was never fixed. And then I discovered they'd helpfully changed my home phone number without my authorisation so I had to call them up again numerous times speaking to numerous people who couldn't speak English very well, all of whom promised to resolve it after apologising etc etc etc. So I got a bit fed up and wrote a strongly worded letter, two pages long, and sent it to their complaints department, asking for a refund since I had a non-operational service for four months, and received a patronising response that never used the word "sorry" once. Next week, I'm going to phone them up and rant. I have the name of their customer complaints boss so I'll see what he has to say about it all. My refund was denied as they'd "tried to get my original phone number from BT but it was denied". Which is a crap excuse as I'd had that phone number with Virgin Media for over two years. I asked for an explanation as to why someone had changed my phone number without my authorisation but never got one - instead I was made to feel like a wally for complaining. So that's Virgin Media.
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| Thursday, January 29th, 2009
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1:59 am - Putdownable
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So I started to read Maggie O'Farrell's after you'd gone, which is spelled in all small caps buy the UK publisher (Headline) for a reason that I don't understand. Perhaps it holds a certain significance that is explained further in the novel but I'm finding it difficult to pick up again since I put it down a few weeks ago having got three-quraters of the way down page number 2 (two).
The reason being that the novel's sixth paragraph has the following text: "Alice felt up her sleeve for the bulk of her watch. It was too big for her, really, its face wider than her wrist..." followed by, three sentences later: "She even pressed the little button at the side that illuminated the tiny grey screen".
So I've reproduced my own artist's impression of Alice's watch (which "had been one of John's") below...
Ummm...
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| Friday, January 23rd, 2009
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1:18 am
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| Saturday, November 1st, 2008
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7:37 pm - Go Fish
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About 16 months ago I took the wise decision to save a little cash by simplifying all my utilities bills. Rather than pay AoL £x amount, Virgin Media (or NTL as they were then known) £x amount and BT £x amount, I decided to go Virgin Media everything and save myself about £30 a month. Some people warned me against it: "NTL are crap" they said. "Are you completely mad?" they also said. "No," I said. "I want to do it and save myself some cash". And, bar a slight issue recently when a "local blah-de-blah-de-blah" meant the cable and t'internet were down for the weekend, I ain't had any complaints at all. I ain't been an AoL or a BT customer for well over a year now. So imagine my surprise when, in August, BT sent me an email informing me, that I owed them £23.98. Two weeks later and I get another email telling me I owe them £172.44. So I phone them (on my Virgin Media line) and tell them I'm not paying as there has been a mistake. This evening, I got a letter through the post telling them my "final bill" is for £220.09. So I ring them up again. "Do you want to pay now?" the woman asks. "No," I say. "Ok, I'll have to pass you over to one of my etc etc etc," she says. "Ok," I say. So I speak to another man. "Do you want to pay now?" he says. "No," I say. "Ok," he says, "I'll have to take down your details and log this call and get someone to investigate etc etc etc".
 And they wonder why I say "no" when asked if I want to join up with them again. |
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| Sunday, October 26th, 2008
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10:02 pm - Plagiarism
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I've developed this annoying fondness recently for 1980s pop riffs that seem to be an increasingly staple part of the modern music diet. And I'm not talking Scissor Sisters - I'm not that dElUdEd. Although my championing of the likes of Phil Collins and Philip Bailey's Easy Lover has never abated, nor has the respect I have for the smooth moves of Lady Miss Kier et al in Deee-lite's Groove is in the Heart ever dwindled, it all started (or re-ignited) back in 2004 when I caught The Bravery on Zane Lowe's Radio 1 show. So fond was I of An Honest Mistake that I got a ticket to see them in the KoKo in Camden before their début album was even released. £10 for a ticket, and Hard-Fi were the warm-up. Bargain.
I since become quite taken by Sugababes' Gary Numan-sampled Freak Like Me and recently, Alphabeat, whose Fascination sounds so much like David Bowie's Modern Life that they should really give him some kind of credit. I'm not gay. And also, rather more worryingly perhaps, The Saturdays. I'm not gay. In particular, their hit If This is Love, which outrageously samples Alison Moyet/Yazoo's Situation.
Which raises an interesting question - NO I AM NOT! But also, another question: is sampling or borrowing a riff not just copying? And if it is, does it really matter if a good tooone is the result? Given, surely, all 'artistes' MUST have some kind of influence in their musical tastes, shaping their lyrics and melodies, is any piece of music really free from someone, somewhere, saying "that song reminds me of..."?
In the same way that Haruki Murakami was influenced by Henry James who he himself was influenced by Hawthorne and Flaubert who he himself was influenced by Goethe, who was influenced by Spinoza who was influenced by Descartes and Plato and Socrates.
In kind of the same way that Roy Lichenstein became famous because he took some unsuccessful poor man's comic book illustrations in the 1950s, blew them up, put them on a canvas, stuck them on the wall of a big gallery in New York and then sold them for millions of dollars?
Basically, all I am trying to say is, don't you think The Saturdays are influenced by Aristophanes' Plutus and Homer's Iliad?
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| Friday, October 24th, 2008
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11:01 pm - This Weekend...
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Who is playing Stoke CIty? Man City. Get rid of Darren Bent in favour of Robinho. With any luck, he'll score a hat-trick. I'll make him my captain. He'll score double-points. They should keep a clean sheet. Transfer in Garrido in favour of Lescott (Everton are playing Man Ure - no chance of a clean sheet there. Bish. Bash. Bosh.
update...
Robinho hat-trick.
Nice one.
And up the fantasy league table I go....
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| Friday, September 5th, 2008
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11:33 pm - Odd
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I've just had a surreal 48 hous.
About about month ago, we officially launched the search for "The Bookseller/Diagram Prize for the Oddest Book Title of the Past 30 Years" at The Bookseller. The results came in on Wednesday morning and I prepared a press release to send out to the news wires and various contacts from local and national presses, radio stations and numerous publishers on the Thursday. Which I did.
The phone soon started ringing.
Friday morning I was due at BBC television centre at 08:10 for an interview on Radio 4's Today Programme with John Humphries. At 08:05, my mobile rang and it was David Willan, the son of the author of the winning book (Derek Willan) - Greek Rural Postmen and Their Cancellation Numbers. He was an incredibly pleasant man and gave me Derek's phone number to pass on to Radio 4. A quarter of an hour later, and I was chatting with John, Derek and author Tim Sanders, live on national radio.
10 hours ago I was giving interviews to various newspapers. 9 hours ago I was repsonding to emails from various newspapers. 8 hours ago I had a chat with Radio Wales and 7 hours ago I was chatting to CBS Kansas City Radio. On Monday, I've got interviews with BBC Radio Scotland and BBC Radio Lancashire.
In the office, someone told me that if they typed in my name and "Greek Rural Postmen" into Google, they got 2,000 hits, with sites like The Guardian, CNBC and The Metro all taking the story from the release or the wires.
"Greek rural postmen top odd book title list
today
LONDON (AP) — It may not be a best-seller, but Greek Rural Postmen and Their Cancellation Numbers has won a literary accolade: oddest book title of the past 30 years.
The book topped a poll to find the weirdest-ever winner of Britain's Diagram Prize for unusually monickered volumes.
It beat previous winners including Proceedings of the Second International Workshop on Nude Mice and How Green Were the Nazis? in an online vote. The results were announced Friday by trade magazine The Bookseller, which organizes the prize.
The runner-up was People Who Don't Know They're Dead. Third place went to How To Avoid Huge Ships.
The Bookseller's charts editor, Philip Stone, said — possibly with tongue in cheek — that the winning book may have benefited from Britons' concern about the closure of rural post offices across the country.
'I sincerely believe that this title provides further proof to the current government that the British public are passionate about the maintenance and continuation of local mail delivery services,' he said. 'And not just nationally, but internationally.'
Rules for the prize, launched in 1978, say the books must be serious and their titles not merely a gimmick. Greek Rural Postmen was published in 1994 by a British stamp-collecting organization."
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| Tuesday, September 2nd, 2008
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9:42 pm - Ding Ding Ding
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This morning, I fell out of bed. And I have been in great pain for most of the day. But such is my professionalism that I have refrained from moaning incessantly, and instead, gone about my usual completely mental Tuesdays without so much as a whimper. (Well, maybe just once, to Hannahbal. She sniggered.)
I don’t fully remember how it happened. I remember waking up and then going back to sleep for a 6 minute snooze. I must’ve gone to sleep in a ridiculous posture as when I awoke from my slumber for a second time, the leg I used to take the full weight of my body upon rising from my mattress turned out not to be a leg at all. It looked like leg, but it was, in fact, a nothing. And I collapsed in a painful heap on my floor. It was the one time I wished my flat was carpeted. There was no pain immediately, of course, because the limb I was now sitting upon had no feeling in it at all. Only after a few moments did the pain come, and it has stayed with me all day. My ankle, in particular, has been crying out for some deep heat.
It was the same ankle that I injured running, and falling across the road back when I lived in Kennington one morning and spent three hours in one A&E, was evacuated to another A&E for two hours, and was told, basically, I was a wimp and no I could not have a crutch. For a couple of years I had trouble with that ankle. And I fear I have aggravated an old injury.
Today at work, I confessed to industrial sabotage. The ad team have a bell that they are supposed to ring when they ‘seal a deal’ or ‘get closure’ or ‘hit one into the back of the net’. In reality, only one of the team uses it with any regularity. “As a joke,” I decided to take action when the office was almost empty last night. I attempted to remove the ringer from inside the bell to no avail, so instead decided to insert a Café Nero napkin in it instead. Which I did, successfully.
But when I turned up for work, in pain, this morning, a darkness had closed upon a wild and terrific scene, and returning light brought but renewed distress, for the raging storm increased in fury until, on the seventh day, all hope was lost.
No amount of apologies for a light-hearted prank sufficed. And it backfired somewhat as The Wright Stuff has seemingly downloaded the sound of a doorbell onto his hard-drive. When editorial find out, they’re going to kill me. “Put a tissue in THAT!” he exclaimed.
But it was the first time I’d seen some people in the office smile for a long time.
Do “morale officers” get a pay-rise?
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| Sunday, August 10th, 2008
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10:52 pm - Longyeabyen/Oslo Also
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| Saturday, August 2nd, 2008
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6:45 pm - CSI: Dagenham
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G Pepe Reina (Liverpool) £6.0m (18 clean sheets last season)
D Joleon Lescott (Everton) £7.0m (8 goals, 14 clean sheets last season)
D Rio Ferdinand (Man Utd) £7.0m (17 clean sheets last season)
D Ricardo Carvalho (Chelsea) £6.5m (13 clean sheets last season)
D Gael Clichy (Arsenal) £6.5m (15 clean sheets last season)
M Steven Gerrard (Liverpool) £11.5m (11 goals, 11 assists last season)
M David Bentley (Tottenham) £8.0m (6 goals, 10 assists last season)
M Keiran Richardson (Sunderland) £6.0m (3 goals, 2 assits in pre-season friendlies)
A Robbie Keane (Liverpool) £9.0m (15 goals, 7 assists last season)
A Darren Bent (Tottenham) £7.5m (8 goals in 3 pre-season friendlies)
A Jermaine Defoe (Portsmouth) £8.0m (12 goals in 16 games last season)
Subs
Dean Kiely (West Brom) £4.0m (He's cheap - and is pretty good)
Pedro Pele (West Brom) £4.5m (He's cheap and he's called 'Pele')
Nicky Barmby (Hull) £4.5m (He's cheap - and used to be quite good)
Daniel de Ridder (Wigan) £4.5m (He's cheap - and is very good)
Total Cost: £100m
I thank you.
P.S. Tomorrow the team may be radically different when I consider Lescott probably had a 'career year' last season and probably won't be as good this year, and Clichy's a bit crap, and it's Darren bloody Bent for crying out loud even if he has been scoring for fun in the pre-season, and Crouch might be a better buy than Defoe, and Keane might not hit it off with Torres (and Rafa's got a crackpot squad-rotation system anyway so Liverpool players are a risk), and Bentley might take a while to get used to Juande's system of play at Spurs, and Carvalho's a dirty bugger and might pick up another 6 yellow cards this season, and Rio's an idiot, and surely £6m could be spent on someone better than Keiran krappy Richardson.
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| Wednesday, July 30th, 2008
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12:28 am - Oslo and Longyearbyen
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| Tuesday, July 1st, 2008
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12:27 am - Reykjavik
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| Tuesday, June 10th, 2008
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11:47 pm - Gloat Gloat
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| Saturday, June 7th, 2008
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8:27 pm - Very sunny, nice beaches, lots of animal life
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Am going on holiday in July, hopefully. Below is a snippet from the island's FAQ:
When kq and I go, the country will be in the midst of its four-month long period of midnight sun.
Maybe I'll get a tan.
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| Monday, June 2nd, 2008
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10:40 pm - Gay refs, the danger in supporting the Dutch and David O'Leary
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Secretly, I'm quite glad England aren't in Euro 2008. Of course, I wished they were. But they aren't, and to be honest, I'm not too upset about it. Because I love my football, especially from a neutral's point of view.
And anyway, I have the inter-office fantasy football to get excited about.
And BBC R5 Live's Fighting Talk is continuing. Last Saturday, they aired a one-hour "Best of" but suspiciously cut out the moment that DJ Iyare Igiehon, in answer to the question: "Who is the Heather Mills of sport?" suggested David o'Leary because "he was hilariously one-footed".
But they did include Henning Wehn imploring people to "have a good 2008", with the warning that "whoever you choose to support at Euro 2008, don't support the Dutch".
And the beautiful exchange between all concerned in answer to the question "What is your favourite sporting YouTube clip?"
Sue Mott: Well, with all due respect to our friend Mr Le Saux here, mine is [the one] called 'Gay Ref'.
Le Saux: Oh? What you tryin' to say?! I've never been a ref in my life.
Colin: Just...for legal reasons, I'd like to say that Graeme Le Saux has never been a ref...Not that there's anything wrong with being a ref.
John Oliver: Some of my best friend's are refs.
I love the show, and podcast it every week, in part because it's often wonderfully funny, but also because regular contributor, Canadian sport broadcaster Greg Brady occasionally drags the show around in the direction of American sports.
But I think the best answer to any question given this season was only a couple of weeks ago...
Colin Murray: Who's put you off football this season? Let's go thorugh the panel very quickly...Ellie
Eleanor Oldroyd: Well it's 'what's' put me off football and it's just the hype. It's the fact that it believes in its publicity sometimes. It's all excessive. You get weeks and weeks and weeks of coverage of the Champions League final. It's just a football game. And we all love football but to think of the 39th game, it's just a pile of nonsense and, do you know what, I am not sorry, but I'm really looking forward to Euro 2008 without England this Summer because otherwise there'd be nothing else in the papers for months. And so Austria against Croatia, bring it on!
Martin Kelner: Right. the Cesc Fabregas show on SKY TV. It's all Nike here and Nike there, Nike everywhere and they get all these other players on who are sponsored by Nike, like Joe Cole saying "oh yes, Cesc Fabregas, he's brilliant". I know he is brilliant and all that, I accpet all that but don't you think it's gone a bit too far, Cesc Fabregas show?
Tom Watt: I get back from Milan, after one of the great nights of my football watching life. They have the draw for the quarter finals and within 15 seconds of that draw being made I see that, we've just beaten Milan in Milan by the way, knocked out the holders, but to win the Champions League, we are going to have to play Liverpool, then Chelsea, then Manchester United. Sorry, where's the fun in that? My heart sank.
Mark Watson: Well, the question doens't make any sense. If a day comes when something is able to put me off football I would say to my wife: "Wife, I love you, but I'm shooting myself in the face".
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| Thursday, May 22nd, 2008
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12:04 am - The Big Match
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Unbelievable. Unbelievable. The team I thought performed worst ended up winning. But, it was the team I secretly wanted to win so the result came with this bizarre concotion of feelings of both happiness and glee but tinged with overwhelming amounts of despair and guttedness for the losers.
Especially in the second half, they put on an attractive, smooth and tactical display, and overall, I think they were the better side. Much more creative in their outlook and much more positive. Desperately unlucky on ocassion.
But they didn't win. Instead the team that seemed to lose the plot half-way through, and never really regained their momentum at all, ended up the winners. They rode their luck, certainly, especially for a team that seemed to be second best. But, I guess, they were certainly deserved winners.
But I do feel gutted for one guy in particular.
Raef will be sadly missed.
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