A blog about anything I want. I don't need to explain myself.

Author: Jason Lalonde (Page 1 of 5)

Ohm

I struggle to agree with Chade-Meng Tan and Marc Lesser. Ultimately, their pitch is to make meditation widely accessible to the world. They compare meditation to medicine. I’m assuming they want “prescribed meditation,” but I’m unsure what that would look like. They’re pitch involves three “easy” steps for what they call world peace: “Step 1 is to start with me. Step 2 is to make meditation a field of science. Step 3 is to apply it to leadership and everyday life.” While I appreciate the sentiment and I know it was done for humorous effect, I find their plan to be grossly oversimplified.

While meditation might have its merit in some circles, I personally have found no use. I’m aware my argument is anecdotal and shouldn’t be grounds to dismiss Tan and Lesser’s point. Meditation might prove to be successful, but they’re argument also states meditation will create “conditions for world peace.” That would suggest meditation is universally beneficial for mental health.

I spent last year in Detroit, Michigan working for the Jesuit Volunteer Corps or JVC. I volunteered at an elementary school as a teacher along with many other jobs. I lived off a monthly stipend of $100 with 3 other wonderful Jesuit volunteers. While the experience was positive, the stress of my job and monthly budget was overwhelming at times. To deal with this stress, JVC has 4 essential values: community, simple living, spirituality, and social justice. While all 4 are important, I found spirituality to be the most effective for my mental health.

In JVC, the term spirituality isn’t strictly Catholic. I met many Jesuit volunteers around the country who were from a wide spectrum of faiths and beliefs, even some atheist volunteers. JVC offers many different forms of spirituality, one being a form of guided meditation involving reflection and self-analysis. I found no use in these reflections. I found more use in talking with my peers, discussing the issues we found at work and trying to come to resolution or conclusion. One might call this therapy.

Meditation isn’t the only answer. While I do agree science should be used to legitimize meditation, I believe mental health is more complicated than a couple breathing exercises. And I wouldn’t agree with Tan and Lesser if their argument were strictly Christian or Islamic either. I think mental health should encompass all traditions. Its that important.

More articles, sorry

You don’t need to read them. They’re long. If you didn’t already gather, they’re about trying to see nature in L.A., specifically the L.A. River.

I am a 2-minute walk from the L.A. River. I am not one of the stereotypical “Angelenos” Price references in her article. I often use the river as a running path. I have not forgotten about it. Although, I am familiar with her experience. The L.A. River is normally defined as everything but a river, from a glorified drain to a giant urban skate-park to an iconic movie set to an open-air sewer. The word “river” sounds too tropical, too indigenous, too rural. If I told an outsider without any context that I lived on a river, they’d imagine a home that couldn’t be further from the concrete truth (pun intended).

Before I read this article, I had a stereotypical definition of nature, one that separates the city from the wild. To me, nature was defined as “natural; not man-made.” This disconnection between civilization and the wild is something I have thought about before. In a previous class, I wrote a paper comparing the novels Sir Arthur Gordon Pym of Nantucket by Edgar Allan Poe and The Life of Pi by Yann Martel, both of which are shipwreck narratives. My conclusion was that humankind is somehow unfit to survive against the overwhelming force of nature. In the wild, we seem to be out of our element, always uncomfortable, always needing some type of airtight shelter sealing us off, always clutching ourselves around our fires and fans and other conditioning units.

I concluded in my paper that, since the dawn of time, humankind has created literal and figurative walls between ourselves and nature, between civilization and the wild. This wall is ever present in modern literature with books like To Build a FireHatchet, and Into the Wild and movies like The Grey and Revenant. The narrative “humans are unfit for the natural world” has been deeply embedded since our first experiences with earthquakes, tornadoes, volcanic eruptions, or simply hungry mountain lions. We are helpless without our conditioning units.

But Jennifer Price offers a different view, one that is a breath of fresh air (pun very much intended). I see now that this divide between city and nature is not only unhelpful, but also detrimental to the idea of environmentalism. Before, I saw nature in Joshua Tree, Yosemite, and Big Bear. Now, I see nature in the chair I’m sitting in, the desk I’m writing on, and the computer I am obsessively glued to everyday. Price emphasizes the importance of understanding and respecting our connection to nature in order to attain sustainability. Without that connection, we live out the American nightmare. We replace sustainability with human ignorance and selfishness.

Price explains that L.A. is at the core of modern nature storytelling. She writes, “The history of L.A. storytelling, if more complicated, still basically boils down to a trilogy. Nature blesses L.A. Nature flees L.A. And nature returns armed.”

Nowhere in this story do we see the phrase “Nature is L.A.”

I prefer that story, one where our relationship with nature is less combative and more harmonious.

Read This Article

I think it’s easy to make Amazon and Jeff Bezos look like the bad guys in this situation. I will admit, this article was eye-opening. I was unaware that Amazon had so many confirmed COVID-19 cases among their employees. But from an ethical standpoint, I don’t think this situation is specific to Amazon. The corona virus outbreak is an unprecedented 21st century pandemic. The entire world was unprepared. It’s unfair to blame Amazon for not handling the situation correctly. The article itself states, “Amazon has had to adapt on the fly to an unprecedented pandemic, often without clear guidance from the federal government.” Every company was confronted with the same dilemma: send their employees home and lose money or take health and safety precautions and hope for the best. I can understand why Amazon executives chose the latter.  

Most people don’t have the option or the luxury to stay home. They can’t afford to not go to work. However, Amazon is in a unique situation where they can afford to lose money. Their employees could stay home with paid leave and it wouldn’t make a dent in a company “worth more than $1 trillion.”

The context of Amazon mistreating their employees in the past changes things, but, while reading this article, I couldn’t help but feel that Amazon is being used as a scapegoat for an otherwise frustrating situation out of anyone’s control. Should Amazon stop production altogether to protect the health of their employees? I don’t see that happening. In hindsight, they should’ve taken more necessary health and safety precautions, but from the article, “disinfectant wipes and hand sanitizer ‘are standard across our network.’ The company also made changes to allow for social distancing, including scrapping group staff meetings during shifts, staggering break times and spreading out chairs in break rooms.”

It’s unfortunate and sad that so many Amazon employees have died due to COVID-19. It is also sad that so many Amazon employees have contracted COVID-19, but proportionally, 900 cases out of 840,000 employees was a statistic I didn’t see mentioned in the article. 

Ultimately, Amazon was unprepared and slow to act during the outbreak. Is this morally wrong? Objectively, yes. But ignorance of COVID-19’s severity makes the situation less one-sided. Our federal government was also slow to act, making the outbreak seem less worrisome from the beginning. 

Amazon has been morally wrong in the past when it comes to the protection of their employees. I personally think tracking an employee’s productivity by the minute is a work environment reminiscent of George Orwell’s 1984, but that’s a different topic.

I believe this specific situation is being used as confirmation bias. It’s being used to further the narrative that Amazon doesn’t care about the well being of it’s employees. True or not, every company is struggling to find the correct answers to an unprecedented global pandemic, not just Amazon. Protecting the health of their employees while simultaneously providing the entire world with a safe way to order food and supplies during quarantine is no easy task. I don’t blame Amazon for trying.  

Magic is Infinite

What is the hardest game ever?

Chess is hard.

Most people refer to Chess as a “smart” person’s game.

Culturally, Chess is the epitome of human intelligence, often referenced in other games when someone makes an extremely clever move. “He’s playing Chess, not checkers.” Checkers really got the short end of the stick there.

Chess is very complicated.

In fact, research has proven that the number of move variations in Chess is somewhere around 10123. That’s a 1 followed by 123 zeros. To put that in perspective, there are only 1081 atoms in the observable universe. There are more possible games of Chess than all of the atoms. That means that every game of Chess hasn’t been played before. Next time you play Chess, remember you’re making history.

That number, 10123, is called the Shannon Number. Its namesake comes from some smart guy named Claude Shannon who had way too much time on his hands.

The number appeared in his 1950 paper “Programming a Computer to Play Chess” which, you guessed it, led people to program a computer to play Chess.

But is Chess the most complicated game?

There’s another contender: the lesser known game of Go.

Go is an ancient Chinese game played on a 19×19 grid. Two players take turns playing their respective colored “stones,” both white and black, on the intersections of the grid. The goal of the game is to capture the opponent’s “stones” and control more territory on the board.

Sounds like weird checkers, but it’s not.

Once you place your stone you cannot move it. You capture stones by surrounding your opponent’s stones. You can pass the turn by handing one of your stones to the opponent. When the turn has been passed by both players, the game ends and points are calculated by captured pieces and controlled territory.

Because of the size of the board, the number of possible move variations in Go is 10360.

That’s 3 times the amount compared to Chess.

I think it’s safe to say that Go is more complex than Chess.

Go wins, right?

The most complicated game ever?

Are there any other challengers?

Any others think they can do better than 10360?

No?

I didn’t think so.

Here’s your crown, Go.

Champion of being the most difficult and complex game ever played.

You deserve it.

What now?

Do you want to get lunch or something?

Nah, I don’t really like Burger Ki-

Wait…

Who is this?

In the distance…

Approaching slowly and maniacally…

Shrouded in darkness…

I can’t see his face clearly…

Is that?

Oh my god…

He’s wearing a canonically accurate robe of Gandalf the Grey, the servant of the secret fire, the wielder of the flame of Anor with a matching wizard staff that looks like it was given to him by Galadriel herself.

And what’s that in his other hand?

Are those…

Cards?

It’s…

It’s…

Magic: The Gathering.

A recent study by independent researcher Alex Churchill has scientifically proven that Magic is the most complicated game ever.

More complicated than Go.

More complicated than Chess.

Because, while both have more variations than atoms in the known universe, Go and Chess are still solvable games.

Meaning they technically can be solved by a computer.

A computer can calculate all possible variations in both Go and Chess to make consecutive moves that will most likely return a win.

If you imagine that every board state in Chess is a puzzle, a computer can mathematically solve it.

The computer will always win.

Two computers playing each other will always draw.

“But Jason. I beat my computer at Chess all the time.”

No, you don’t.

The computer lets you win.

It wants you to think you’re better.

It wants to make you feel safe.

Meanwhile, it’s making plans for world domination.

In game theory, it was thought that every game was, to some extent, solvable.

Magic can’t be solved.

Because the possible variations in Magic are infinite.

In 2012, Alex Churchill, independent researcher at Cambridge, published a paper titled “Magic: The Gathering is Turing Complete.”

This paper was really complicated and filled with computer science jargon.

I hate science jargon, but I read it anyway.

This what I took from the reading: Turing complete means a system can compute any algorithm given which basically means it’s a computer.

Alex and his buddies found a way to make a computer within a game of Magic.

Don’t ask me how.

If you want to know, go read the paper.

In layman’s terms, they use the function of specific card rules to create a scenario where you can input an equation and receive a correct output.

Theoretically, you could input “2 + 2” and the game would give you “4.”

This specific game scenario can only be finished by what is known in computer science as the “halting problem.”

Halting Problem: the problem of determining, from a description of an arbitrary computer program and an input, whether the program will finish running, or continue to run forever.

wikipedia

Alan Turing, the inventor of the Turing machine and the namesake for “Turing complete,” proved that no computer algorithm can solve the halting problem.

Considering that this problem can exist in Magic, Alex Churchill and his buddies proved that Magic is unsolvable.

From Churchill’s paper, “This is the first result showing that there exists a real-world game for which determining the winning strategy is non-computable.”

Silly computers can’t even play Magic.

I guess we should be less worried about the whole “world domination” thing.

Here’s the paper if you feel like reading, but this is more to prove that I’m not making all this up.

I Love Lisa

Who is Lisa?

Lisa is my favorite member of the K-pop girl group BLACKPINK.

Wait no.

I don’t listen to K-pop.

That would betray my already fragile masculinity.

I listen to rock n’ roll and heavy metal and rap.

Yeah, I’m a manly man.

That’s right.

And Lisa is the name of my favorite videogame.

Which is a man’s game.

For men.

Did I say that yet?

Lisa is a game about men.

Don’t get it twisted.

Ok I lied.

Lisa is more than just a game about men.

But without admitting my infatuation with the Korean rapper of the same name, I’m going to tell you why I love Lisa.

The videogame.

K?

K.

Lisa is a post-apocalyptic role-playing video game developed and published by indie game studio LoveBrad Games (formerly known as Dingaling Productions). The critically acclaimed soundtrack that originally attracted me to this game was made by someone called Widdly 2 Diddly.

Quite the colorful name choices.

Turns out it’s all one guy. LoveBrad Games, Dingaling Productions, and Widdly 2 Diddly are all aliases for a man named Austin Jorgensen.

Austin wrote, designed, and composed my favorite game all by himself.

Thank you, Austin.

Lisa is a trilogy. The trilogy includes Lisa: The First, Lisa: The Painful, and Lisa: The Joyful.

As with most fans of these games, my introduction to the Lisa series was through Lisa: The Painful. I tried to play Lisa: The First afterwards. Despite being an interesting backstory to the 2nd game, the first game is hot garbage. I believe Austin was still trying things out as a game developer. The difficulty of the game is borderline impossible. The story, while informative, is overwhelmingly dark and disturbing. It lacks the comic relief that I fell in love with in the second game.

Let’s start with the second game.

In Lisa: The Painful, you control a man named Brad Armstrong. Brad is a middle-aged man with a dark and troubled past. Brad lives in a post-apocalyptic town called Olathe. The apocalyptic event in this world, ambiguously named the “Flash,” seemingly wiped out every human female in Olathe.

My previous statement, the one about this being a man’s game, seems bona fide, but that’s not why I like the game. Lisa is more than just a bunch of dudes messing around in an apocalyptic playground.

Although, that is the vibe in the beginning.    

The story of Lisa is loosely based on the dystopian novel Children of Men written by English writer Phyllis Dorothy James. Phyllis tells the story of mass infertility in a futuristic England, but instead of wiping out all females, male sperm count has plummeted to zero. Children of Men is about how English society reacts when a single strand of hope is discovered: the last fertile man.

In Lisa, the roles are reversed. Austin envisions a society without fertile women, without women altogether.

And it aint pretty.

Rival gangs run rampant with guns blazing, explosions exploding, and motorbikes doing their thing. Olathe is an endless horizon of blood and carnage. The world is horrific and perverse. And everyone is addicted to Joy, a drug that gives you superhuman capabilities and crippling withdrawals.

Brad and his friends struggle to live in this world.

One day, Brad discovers an abandoned baby girl in the desert.

This child is the last strand of hope.

This child could save humanity.

But instead of handing her over to the authorities, Brad decides to hide this child and protect her from the violent and perverse outside world. Brad decides to adopt and raise the child as his own.

He names the child Buddy.

After a wholesome montage of Buddy growing up and becoming an adolescent, Brad unfortunately relapses. Brad is addicted to Joy. Coming home from his Joy bender, he finds that Buddy is gone. He assumes she has been kidnapped. The rest of the game is Brad’s adventure trying to rescue Buddy from the grasp of violent Olathe warlords.

Spoilers!

Buddy wasn’t kidnapped.

She escaped.

While she loves Brad, Buddy felt suffocated by him and desperately wanted to explore the outside world.

While attempting to “rescue” Buddy, Brad dies.

In Lisa: The Joyful, you play as Buddy seeking revenge for the death of her father figure.

Oh, I forgot to say that Brad is a karate master and taught Buddy badass karate moves so she could defend herself if she ever needed to.

So, using Brad’s karate skills along with a katana (of course because this is basically Kill Bill), Buddy becomes this badass assassin killing all the gang leaders involved in Brad’s death.

The plot became one of the most satisfying revenge stories I’ve ever experienced.

More satisfying than the bride from Kill Bill or Arya Stark from Game of Thrones.

My desktop wallpaper is Buddy crouching on a cliff with a bloody katana.

Also, the game’s soundtrack is icing on the cake.

Oh, right. I almost forgot.

Who is Lisa?

Spoilers again.

You find out in the first game that Lisa was Brad’s younger sister who died during the Flash. Before the Flash, Lisa and Brad were heavily abused by their alcoholic father, Marty. From a young age, Brad felt the need to protect his younger sister.

Brad saw his sister in Buddy.

I don’t think I spoiled much. Just the entire 1st and 2nd game kinda.

But the real fun to be had is in the 3rd game. And there are so many twists and turns.

It’s a ton of fun.

I highly recommend playing it.

I love Lisa.

Here’s the sweet wallpaper and some cool music from the game.

Not My Pickle

How come pickles are called pickles?

There are other pickled things. Pickled onions. Pickled eggs. Pickled garlic.

Cucumbers got the noun. Everything else received a measly qualifying adjective.

What makes cucumbers so special?

The word pickle comes from the Dutch word pekel, meaning brine. It refers to the process of pickling, or fermenting food in brine to extend its shelf life.

Cucumbers have exploited the pickle market for their own gain.

If any food should be called pickles, it should be olives.

Olives always come pickled.

You could say olive them are pickles.

We should overthrow the cucumber tyrant and choose a new leader for the word pickle.

I’ll start the campaign.

“Got yourself in a pickle? Choose a real pickle. Olives for pickle president because you already know olive pickles.”

You get it?

Olive pickles.

Like I love pickles.

I thought it was clever.

Anyways.

They’re called pickled cucumbers now.

Don’t @ me.

Fickle Dice

Tabletop games are the oldest games.

Tabletop games include board games, card games, dice games, paper and pencil games (homework?), strategy-based games, tile-based games, and tabletop role-playing games.

I want to talk about the last one mentioned, a niche in the nerd world that I have recently discovered and become obsessed with.

Tabletop roleplaying started with Dungeons and Dragons or D&D. Most people have heard of D&D through pop culture references such as Stranger Things. If you haven’t, here’s a brief description: improvisational fantasy story telling with fickle dice as your merciless gods.

In D&D, one player acts as the storyteller, world builder, and rules keeper. This player is called the Dungeon Master. The other players are actors, pretending to be characters in the Dungeon Master’s world. Whenever the players want to do something, they roll dice and the Dungeon Master determines whether they succeed or fail based on the quality of the roll.

The game is one of the most unique games I’ve ever played because of its infinite possibilities. You can technically do anything you want. The story is only limited by your imagination.

It’s a ton of fun.

In the tabletop roleplaying ludology world, there is a theory that has caused some drama.

I’m not going to get into the drama, but I will explain the theory. The theory is called GNS theory. GNS stands for Game, Narrative, Simulation.

GNS theory was an attempt to explain the reasons people play role-playing games, specifically three reasons. But rather than being a fun thought experiment for a beloved game, this theory split the community into three groups that had three separate goals when playing roleplaying games.

The Gamer: to win.

The Narrator: to tell a fun, engaging story.

The Simulator: to simulate a fantasy world

This divide caused many games to be specifically designed towards one aspect of GNS theory, catered only to either gamers, narrators, or simulators.

The GNS theory was a point of contention because its creator, game designer and theorist Ron Edwards, made it clear that roleplaying games need to focus on only one of the three aspects of GNS. They should not combine all three if they want to be fun.

Ron’s theory was inspired by an earlier theory called the Threefold Model or GDS theory. GDS is the same theory as GNS save that it called Narration Drama and it wasn’t trying to divide the entire community. GDS stated that all three aspects were a part of every role-playing game, whether you like it or not.

I’m going to go even further.

GDS or GNS or whatever you want to call it is involved in every game ever.

In soccer, the game is to score more goals; the narration is the journey of both teams and players throughout their respective franchises and careers; and the simulation is the lines drawn on the field and the many arbitrary rules in place to create the game.

In my post called “Playing Pretend,” I concluded that all entertainment is a form of role-playing. All role-playing contains GNS. Therefore, all entertainment must contain GNS.

What’s the game of a movie? Or a book?

To finish, I guess.

The narration is obvious.

And the simulation is both the medium and other tools used to simulate a fantasy world, such as the literal words in a book or computer-generated imagery in a movie.

If you think about it, all entertainment can be boiled down to games, narration, and simulation.

We can only be entertained by three things.

It’s no wonder I’m bored all the time.

Perfect Stoke

Ludology is the study of games or gaming. Recently, it has been associated with video games, but this is a misnomer. Video games have thrown a proverbial wrench in the ludologist’s view of games. Before video games, ludology was about tabletop games and sports and was mainly concerned with anthropology, or human society and culture surrounding games. The introduction of video games broadened the study of gaming into fields such as sociology, psychology, and, more controversially, the humanities.

The combination of ludology and the humanities is still a heated topic today.

I’ve been reading about ludology too much.

And there’s a lot.

I’m overwhelmed.

This was deeper than I thought.

For now, I’ll explain a central point made in game studies: the classification of games.

Believe it or not, tabletop games came before sports. The oldest known sport was wrestling dating back 15,000 years ago. That seems obvious. The first sport ancient humans made up involved forcing our will on another human. That’s probably the first game I played too. I played it all the time with my brother.

But before sports, we played tabletop games, or what we now know as tabletop games because back then there probably wasn’t a table. These games took the form of throwing objects on to the ground as a form of dice rolling. I like the idea that before we decided to fight for sport, our ancestors were like, “Hey check out these cool rocks! I have more than you! I win. Ooga ooga.”

Tabletop games are the oldest form of games and they can be classified in two ways: Outcome uncertainty and state uncertainty.

Games where the outcome is random are called stochastic games. Games where the outcome is known are called deterministic games or abstract strategy games.

Games where the state of the game is random are called imperfect games. Games where the state of the game is known are called perfect games.

Perfect Deterministic games: Chess, Go, Mancala

Perfect Stochastic games: Backgammon, Monopoly, Craps, Roulette, Yahtzee, Parcheesi    

Imperfect Deterministic games: Battleship, Stratego, Mastermind

Imperfect Stochastic games: Poker, Blackjack, Gin, Scrabble, Risk, Mahjong

Chess is considered perfect because the board state is always known and deterministic because the outcome is always known. There are no secrets in chess.

Poker is considered imperfect stochastic because both the state and outcome of the game is random. There are only secrets in poker.

I like the idea of using these terms as a personality test.

I think I’m a perfect stochastic kind of guy.

I’m gonna rename it.

I’m a perfect stoke.

Which means I like knowing things but I have no idea what to do with that information.

I’m no prodigy

I didn’t write yesterday. That was the first day I’ve missed in almost 2 months; in almost 40 consecutive posts save for weekends.

40 posts are a lot of posts. Some would say too many.

It’s not that I forgot to write yesterday.

I sort of ran out of things to write about.

But that’s not true because I have plenty of things to write about.

Ludology was next on my list. The study of games. That sounds fun.

So, no. It’s not that I ran out of ideas.

It’s more that I don’t feel like writing.

Tangent: I had this teacher in college that I loathed.

I’m not sure why I loathed him.

Maybe it was because his first class was annoying. It wasn’t a lecture on the syllabus or anything relevant to the class; it was an oral autobiography. He started class by listing all his accomplishments on the chalkboard. He filled the entire chalkboard. He then proceeded to tell us his entire life story.

I hated that.

The class was called Fiction Writing.

I took it because I enjoy writing fiction. I’ve been writing short fiction stories on my own since middle school. In this class, we were supposed to turn in a short fiction story once a week. There were 10 short story assignments and the final was a 10-page story in our favorite genre.

The class was easy because I already completed the assignments before class started. I turned in the stories I wrote as a hobby. Besides changing the occasional story to fit the prompt and making one a little longer for the final, I did nothing in that class.

And the teacher continued to be annoying.

He was very accomplished though. He never let us forget it.

He wrote a fiction novel that got awards or something. I can’t remember.

While proofreading a select few stories in front of the class, this teacher would give us advice on how to become better writers.

He had the same advice every time. He said, “To become a better writer you must write every day, even when you hate it or don’t feel like doing it.”

He recommended writing 1,000 words a day.

He made it very clear that if we didn’t write 1,000 words a day, we would never become successful writers.

No joke, I maybe wrote 1,000 words total in that 11-week class.

That teacher gave me an A.

But according to his advice, I should’ve failed.

Either I’m a fiction writing prodigy or he was wrong about the 1,000 words a day thing.

I’m no prodigy.

I think he might’ve been wrong.

Good sip of tea

Gossip is bad.

The word derives from the Old English word godsibb. “God” in Old English roughly translates to “idol” and “sibb” translates to “extended family or close friends.” Godsibb was a term for one’s godparents. The term was meant to identify a person the family looked up to, a role model for their child.

Now, gossip means “casual or unconstrained conversation or reports about other people, typically involving details that are not confirmed as being true.”

How did this happen?

Blame childbirth.

Back in the day, the birth of a child was a social event exclusively attended by women. The pregnant woman’s relatives and close friends, godsibbs, would gather and aimlessly converse during labor. The room was filled with godsibbs talking, thus the verb of godsibb was created and the term was almost exclusive to women.

But everyone gossips. Talking about anyone who isn’t in the room is considered gossip.

I gossip all the time.

Another interpretation is that gossip derives from the word gospel. Gospel is a contraction of “good spiel” meaning good story.

Gossip isn’t bad.

It’s just a good story.

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