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The Multitude and the Myriad

(Originally published 4 October, 2014, on The Wild Hunt)

emerald-tablet

The sun is not the brightest star, but it is the closest, the loudest.

The sun is so close that it blinds from our eyes all those others who, by mere virtue of distance, must wait for the darkest of hours to remind us of their light. Without that garish ferocity, we cannot live, but it is at the cost of the myriad that this one Truth shines upon us.

If these words were in German, her warmth could bronze and perhaps sear your skin with rays of feminine brilliance. Were you reading this in French, his beckoning light might bring you instead to think on his mannish illumination gently coaxing out the life of plant from soil. The sun is feminine in many Germanic languages, while masculine in many Latin-derived tongues, and the moon is likewise gendered. It is female in French and male in German.

Is the sun male or female, though? It certainly cannot be said to have identifiable genitalia, so we are unable to resort to a particularly base methodology to discover our answer. One might even suggest that it has no gender at all, in accordance to our manner of ordering nouns in English. If this is the case, though, we must immediately judge all speakers of languages, which gender the sun, to be fools or, charitably, inheritors of a hopelessly primitive linguistic system.

Another interesting possibility exists. Perhaps the sun is both female and male, according to how and where one views it. We know, certainly, that the sun can both give life and take life away. It can both warm and burn; it might illuminate or blind depending upon where you happen to be standing or looking. That is, the sun is many things simultaneously; many things to many people. In the far northern hemisphere, I experience it in subtle degrees as the year grows cold. My friends in that other hemisphere now feel its coming strength as their winter thaws and spring flowers bloom. Those betwixt our homes at this moment shield their eyes from it, sweating fiercely under its burdensome weight.

The sun is both warm and cold, distant and close, searing and life-giving. Within Her and His and Its intensity is all the contradictions and opposites which compose a wholeness, a unity only understood in its fragmented difference.

One, Two, None, All

For more than a millennium there was one God. Before, there were many, but then there was but one, and he was male – a fierce, strong, creator-lord full of justice and power, might and judgment, as well as love, mercy, and some degree of kindness to those deserving of his favors or loyal to his causes.

We need not be so simple about it, though. There were certainly others gods; otherwise our Paganism is mere aesthetic, and vast civilizations utterly misguided, as the fundamentalist believers in Progress would have us think. The “progression” of religion from Animistic Shamanism to Polytheism, then to Henotheism, then to Monotheism and finally, at the top of glorious and final present, Atheism relies upon the hope that our present existence is somehow “better” than yesteryear, and that we should consider the succession of this forced march closely.

It proposes first a “simplistic” relationality between nature and humanity, followed by an unfortunate anthropomorphization of natural forces into human-gods. Then the desert cults, laboring under the searing, garish and very-loud sun, chose just one of the many and, when a prophet is hanged upon wood, they decide their one is an only.  Nearly two millennia later, some French and English writers decide there’s no god at all, and we are finally now enlightened–from all, to many, to one, to none – and too bad the billions in Africa and Asia just can’t catch up.

Beyond the extreme arrogance of asserting that a mere 2% of the world has accurately answered the question of the existence of gods, we should specifically complicate the “evolutionary” narrative of progressive ascension. Since so many ancient and indigenous cultures think in circles and wheels rather than vertical lines, it’s surprising that such a theory of religious succession could still maintain a grip upon Pagan thought – a theory which can be seen particularly in an unfortunate misstep of Wicca regarding the gender of the gods.

adam-and-eve-in-the-garden-of-eden-1530.jpgBlogA popular reading of the re-introduction of “The Goddess” into modern religious thought (not just Pagan, but also some strands of Christian ‘Theology’) is that it’s a necessary correction of two millennia of male-centered, Monotheistic thought. This is a fair reading, and one can certainly point to all sorts of social and religious tendencies which, through a belief in an a male-gendered Only-god, contributed to the systematic degradation of a full half of humanity. That there was only one god, and that this only-god was male, is certainly peculiar and suspicious, particularly considering the patriarchal succession of priesthoods of this only-(male)-god.

As a political act, the insistence on an equally-important Goddess was quite radical, but also incredibly problematic. Besides the failed attempts of some writers to re-narrate a matriarchal past into pre-Monotheistic Europe (and history is only narration, so we should applaud their attempts as much as we cringe at their failure), the question of the only-(male)-god is hardly answered by giving him a mate, as if the Hebrew god’s act in Eden were a model to emulate.

Worse, this Goddess is a no-one; just as the monotheistic God was also a no-one.

They are not just no-ones, but also All-Ones, or Half-Ones. The Pagan (particularly Wiccan) Goddess is a conglomerate principle, a pastiche, a compound being encompassing half of a split divinity gendered female, or a corporate entity sometimes named the Divine Feminine. What then is left which is not of the one-Half-(female)-Goddess is then re-pasted upon a feral-yet-civil hunter dressed up in sacred loin-cloth and antlers. And, we are thus supposed to sigh, relieved that the One-God’s rib forms his eternal companion.

I do not say here that there is no Goddess, rather that there are many of them, a multitude, a myriad.  Nor would it do much good for us to debate precisely the theological import of such statements like, “I acknowledge the Goddess in all Her forms” (a sort of universalist-monism) or “I worship the Goddess by her many names” (a less corporatist approach). Rather, we should ask precisely why, as inheritors and escapees of monotheistic power, we’d settle for two gods as a solution to the tyranny of the (male) one.

Being a believer in the existence of gods (by which I also mean goddessess–let none say English does not possess gender!) requires me to be a bit extra polite when another Pagan, in ritual or in conversation, speaks of Pagans collectively worshiping “The Goddess.” I must do a bit of translation of their statement in order to not be offended. It’s an allowance for their shorthand, regardless of how much I really wish to ask, “wait–which goddess? I’ve met five of them, and have heard of another eighty, at least.”

To say they are all-one, that all the goddesses enfold into one great Goddess is a bit colonialist. It’s also understandable, since we do the same thing with gender.  We speak of “female” and “male” as if all humanity is easily divided into two sorts of people, each composing a half of a corporate whole called “humanity.”

It’s a short-hand, a quick-sorting category, which is certainly useful in some circumstances, but it is also only that. And, like all categories and labels, often times they don’t fit, no matter how hard we try to peg certain beings into the spaces we’ve created for them.

Which Man? Which Woman?

Like race, we often approach the idea of gender as if it is a naturally-derived or divinely-revealed thing, though we forget we must actually be taught these categories. I had many black friends and female friends and even a few (but very few) wealthy friends when I was a child. But it was not until our differences were explained (and re-iterated, and enforced) that I understood that there was a difference between them and I. The skin-color of my friends was a mere characteristic, not a difference until I was told that being “white” meant something and being “black” meant something else. Similarly with female: a girl was a sort of a friend, not an opposition to boy. Different genitals was like different hair-length–utterly inconsequential.

But male and female, like white and black, mean something, or mean something to lots of people. Being one means you get paid less, being the other means you get paid more. It’s better to be white and male than all the other things, depending on where you live, but only because people have decided that white and male are better things than black or female.

Even our divine was male for awhile (and maybe even white, judging from most popular depictions of Jesus). Having a female divine as well is certainly nice and having her be equal (and in some traditions superior) to him corrects some imbalances certainly.

But there are many sorts of men, and many sorts of women. There are very old, withered-but-wise men, and very young, mewling, just-out-of-the-womb men. There are the strong and muscled ones, the furry ones (my favorite), but also the lithe or round ones. And the same for women–the maidens, the mothers, the crones, the really strong ones and the really graceful ones, the large and fecund or the diminutive and fierce. To say they are all women or are all men is a strange thing to say.

There are several ways people have gone about re-imagining gender, or re-enforcing gender, and these attempts are worth staring at.

One of perhaps the more common treatments has been to re-inforce the divisions between them, cutting deeper “no-man’s lands” betwixt her and him. One strand of thought focuses primarily on the genitals of the person, and to some degree the genetics. On the side of “her” has been Z Budapest and other Second-Wave feminists, insisting that women are only those who’ve been born into such things as “the uterine mysteries.”

On the side of “him” have been writers characteristic of the New Right gaining increasing popularity within Paganism, such as Jack Donovan. “Men” for them are those who possess not just testicles, but also certain physical characteristics defined precisely by their opposition to an imagined Feminine.

In both cases, it is the fault of the other which has brought them to such matters. Second-Wave feminists cite patriarchy as the cause of their need for exclusion, and writers like Donovan cite Feminism as the reason men are bound to desk-work and served “manly” drinks in thin stemware.

A second treatment of gender fails equally. The “Radical Feminism” (which is hardly radical at all) of people like Lierre Keith and Derrick Jenson of Deep Green Resistance, as well as certain positions leftover from late 60’s American Paganism, attempts to resolve the matter of gender by abolishing it altogether. On its surface, such an idea is appealing, as must have been Atheism to Enlightenment writers, noting the problems of European Monotheism. Without gender, there is no division, and all humanity becomes one. Only in its particular violence against a certain group of people, however, does one begin to see the flaws in this.

In fact, what all these attempts have in common is a shared hatred of a specific class of people–trans-folk. Humans, who have chosen to physically embody a gender according to their will rather than circumstance of birth, attract such vitriol from all these groups that we should seriously consider why. Donovan, Budapest and Keith, all on apparently opposite sides of the gender question, stand united in their venom against trans-folk. Why?

The trans-person (and, equally perhaps, the queer) stands in a place more revolutionary and radical than any of their critics can hope to occupy. By choosing their gender, they do not abolish gender, they transform it into a human act, reminding the rest of us that gender, like race, is something we create and can choose to embody, rather than something we are born into. The all is split into many; each half of humanity split into a multitude of individual embodiments.

This transformation is revolutionary because it affects the rest of us. I am a cis-male, deep voiced, muscular, “man,” but if I rely only on accident of birth to claim my specific maleness, I exist in a passive realm of non-choice. For the multitude of other sorts of men, is it not the same thing? As well, for women; if a female relies on her uterus for her identity, what sort of identity is that?

That is, we cannot merely say woman, we must also ask “which woman?” Just as we cannot merely say Goddess or God, but rather ask which goddess? Which god?

The Multitude and the Myriad

640px-Starry_Night_at_La_SillaTo lump a very large group of things, or people, or beings into one whole has not gone very well for us humans these past few millenia, particularly because we’ve had to, like Cinderella’s step-sisters, take some bloody steps to force things to fit into the receptacle of our categories.

Monotheism required the annihilation of other gods except the One God; just as it required the destruction of cultural forms to make people fit into its categories. Communism and Fascism both require similar annihilation, crushing all humans within their realm into the worker or the volk. But likewise, Atheism is hardly an adequate answer, which abolishes all gods just as some would abolish all gender. More pernicious has been Capitalism’s answer, which erases identity altogether, except what can be purchased or sold, leaving individuality to one’s choice of smartphone or automobile. Any anyway, it hates forests.

Antonio Negri and Michael Hardt introduced the idea of “the Multitude,” the vast teeming flood of humans and their experiences which threaten always to overwhelm Empire. I suggest we Pagans embrace it and expand upon it. I like, particularly, the word Myriad, as in a “myriad of stars,” an immeasurable number which likely has a limit but one we cannot quite reach.

In all our multitudes of experience, we define ourselves and our genders. Each man is a sort of man, each woman a sort of woman. Each goddess is a sort of goddess, each god a sort of god. They are themselves them selves, just as we are each neither cog nor component.

How many gods are there? I do not know, anymore than I could hope to innumerate the sorts of women I’ve met, or of trees. I know it’s more than two and, definitely, more than none.

Likewise, how many ways of encountering the Other, or of making love, or of relating to each other are there?  How many sorts of sunlight are there, how many kinds of illumination does the sun shine upon the earth?.

A multitude, certainly.

A Myriad.

23 Comments »

  1. While I do (still!) like this piece, I wonder if the matter of “choice of gender” reflects the lived reality of many trans* and gender-variant people.

    For myself, I’ve known I was “different” since age 3 or 4; I was able to assert that identity later in life and define it as I chose, but initially, I didn’t choose to be “different.”

    One very common trans* narrative, at least among trans* women, is “woman trapped in a man’s body,” and I’ve never heard of someone voluntarily choosing to be “trapped.” One of the points brought out in the Z. Budapest mess at PantheaCon several years back was the idea of “women-born women,” and it was very perceptively counter-argued that trans* women are likewise in that category, even if society and the medical establishment continues to mistake physical characteristics for constitutive signifiers for gender.

    Given that language and positionality contribute greatly to how these matters are understood, as you’ve laid out above, this might be something that cis people might not quite get about some (but by no means all) trans* and gender-variant people. Few of us would responsibly and authentically say “Gay, lesbian, and bisexual people choose to be their particular sexual orientations” (though if someone did want to choose it, I think they should absolutely be free to do so!); so, why is it that gender identity gets assumed to be a matter of choice rather than a matter of constitutional differences?

    Liked by 2 people

    • So, I’m a bit of a heretic here. I do suspect we choose. Not that we choose our orientation or feelings, but rather that we choose to embody, enact, and embrace them, rather than accepting socially-constructed norms.

      The matter of sexuality and gender being tied to the physical body at birth is a sort of determinism stemming from 20th century medicalization of behavior (think Foucault) and a legal strategy in Western countries to gain recognition on the basis of that, for instance, “Gays can’t help it–they were born that way” and thus merit legal protection.

      That logic protects us from attempts to change our behavior and is the basis of much of our legal rights, but I worry about it. I, for instance, choose to be queer, to embody queerness, and to enact queer relationships. I could certainly choose the opposite, but that would make me miserable.

      Thus the truly radical nature of the queer and trans person, and why there’s so much push-back on all sides. The gay man challenges the heterosexual man’s acceptance that sexuality derives from pro-creation; the trans person challenges all of our acceptance that gender and sexuality derives merely from the body you were born into.

      Liked by 1 person

      • *nods*

        I get that, and I agree to some rather large degree (depends on what day you ask me!).

        I think that, in being non-binary myself, I am rather uncomfortable with the idea that any of us are only essentially what we are, or that we’re only socially-constructed. It’s never just one or the other, and there may be a multitude and myriad (!) other factors someone as clever as Foucault has not yet come along and theorized involved, too. As Mojo08 mentioned in another comment here, it is at least a two-stage process, and as you’ve said likewise.

        Personally, I’ve never liked the “Born this way” theme as annunciated by GaGa (especially the “God makes no mistakes” part of it!), and yet there’s something to it, especially in, e.g. Islamic cultures that have the death penalty under Sharia law, and yet there are LGB people in those cultures, and there can occasionally even be spaces for T folks, too (though they’re often enforced rather than chosen, etc.).

        To say “It’s complicated” would be an understatement. 😉

        Liked by 2 people

      • I’ve known who I was for as long as I remember, and I surely did not choose to, at a young age, embrace an identity that would cause others to give me grief and put me so far beneath privilege that I can’t even see where it is. I like a lot of the material in your article but your appropriation of experiences that you do not share (those of trans folks) to make philosophical and political points is something that I have no issue calling out. Telling trans folks what their experiences are and how they should interpret them is cissplaining bs.

        Liked by 2 people

      • It’s ok, Laine we understand that you won the “Biggest Victim” award.

        However it is pure hypocrisy to tell others what they can and can’t relate to due to the limits of their experience, based on the limits of your own experience.

        Like

      • aediculaantinoi Re: “God doesn’t make mistakes”

        Leaving apart just how cliche and how much that comment always sets my teeth on edge… (whose god, which god?)

        a topic that I brought up in a discussion I briefly had with a Wiccan Trans-person.
        A common comment by pagans and Wiccans is that they worship the Earth or Nature or respect the forces of nature. So when a trans friend brought that up I had to ask how she worked that in with her transition. Did she respect/worship nature (and their were no mistakes) and did we have free will and impliment technology to impose our own nature. particularily with regards to magic, and purposeful vs self-improvement vs “towards godliness” magic philosophies.

        She hadn’t thought about it and I haven’t caught up with her since.

        Thought I’d mention it here where the trans & pagan talk is free flowing?
        Nature or nuture, folks?

        Like

    • One of my reservations regarding sexual and gender essentialism (and why I’m at odds with 21st century internal identity warfare among BPQ regarding semantics) is that the dominant theory of sexuality for over a century was that “gay” MSM were biologically feminine and “lesbian” WSW were biologically masculine. While they stopped gassing, shooting, castrating, torturing, shocking, and drowning us on this basis, the hormone, gene, and brain people are still looking for “opposite sex” correlations (MSM with straight women, WSW with gay women.) Homophobia has been just as comfortable with the idea of biological gender deviance as voluntary criminality.

      The Deaf community has a lot to say about how a biological difference didn’t remove abusive and coercive pressures to conform to Hearing culture.

      Liked by 1 person

  2. Since I have no idea of what it’s actually like to be trans, I can’t offer any opinion as to whether transfolk choose their genders or not. However, I’ve been seeing an awful lot of trans-bashing lately, and some of it has even come from other Pagans (which just shocks and upsets me, even though I suppose I ought to be used to it by now). So I appreciate this article just in terms of its stance that much of what even the Pagan community thinks about sex and gender can be inherently flawed.

    That being said, I also think this is the best and most comprehensive response I’ve ever seen to the whole “Monotheism trumps polytheism/atheism trumps all” meme that Western Caucasian atheist capitalist intellectuals like to try and impose upon the rest of us. It never ceases to amaze me how these people just assume that you can’t be as advanced as they are if you actually make offerings to your ancestors or to icons of polytheist Deities that “no one believes in anymore.” By their logic, we all ought to be stumbling, demented cannibals who run around nekkid and who violently resist scientific progress at every possible turn.

    Liked by 3 people

  3. Very astute essay. I explored Eastern philosophy and religion in my 20s, reading a lot of Alan Watts, among others, prior to my discovering paganism. I gathered from that study, particularly Advaita Vedanta, that all the gods are but aspects of one Divine, which is more properly thought of as “Godhead” than “God.” I still view the gods and goddesses this way–as manifestations of an impersonal, and all-pervading, blissful Intelligence. The duotheism of Gardnerian and other forms of Wicca never really appealed to me, maybe because I’m a trans woman and find the binary gender thing problematic.

    In reply to aediculaantinoi, I would say this: I’ve never particularly cared for the “woman trapped in a man’s body” notion, although I can see why many have adopted it and use it. It is a bit too essentialist for my liking, although as a rough approximation of trans experience, it is useful enough. I agree with you that people do not *choose* to be trans any more than people *choose* to be gay. Where the choice comes is how one *responds* to one’s gender identity or one’s sexual preference. One can *choose* to follow the culturally-imposed program, live a closeted life, and suffer the shame and isolation accordingly; or one can *choose* to live in accord with one’s own true essence, and reap the rewards of living in reality.

    Liked by 3 people

    • I feel the same about Godhead encompassing all the aspects and avatars of the Divine–not being all the same, but unknowable numbers of facets on either a disco ball, or a polygonal sphere-like object. I tend to believe that one human mind cannot encompass all of what Deity/the Divine is. Many can only see one facet, others much more, but not nearly anywhere near a complete vision.

      Like

    • re: Godhead you might want to read up on philosophical debates around the theory of “Monad”.

      Sadly reaping the rewards of reality is for many daily facing abuse and danger and having to fight discrimination from all sides (hence the comments on another topic).
      One customer I visited while a computer tech was at a school. They were having a “mufti-day” (no uniform) so the teacher a cis-male had dressed up as an old style school mam (and look very much like Mrs Brown from Mrs Browns boys). He kept saying over and over, “I don’t normally dress like this”. I told he did it very well but I don’t think he found it reassuring.
      However if I dressed to my real gender identity then my company would have a hard job selling my integrity and skills because their customers couldn’t relate and feel secure with me (not having a box to put me in). since an important part of my job as tech was to re-assure upset customers I had to dress for them. I did tend to play with the image a bit, discarding the suit or polo shirt, having mid-back pony tail and custom pants. Would have gone with a decent bra too, but much of the time I’m crawling around things, so I invoked male privilege there 😉 by not having one.

      Other note: I used to amuse me that Elders of the Church of the Latter Day Saints (aka Mormons) used to talk about their religion and how everyone would be born into a perfect immortal body just like the one they have on Earth…. Not such a big draw card for the trans folk – (shudders and repulsion at the time).

      I do use the wrong body cliche for some cis folk (or actually I use “gorilla suit”) to try to give them that sense of “my body you perceive isn’t me” to try and communicate the sense of wrongness and non-identitification that goes with the dysmorphia. Things like cultural customs, privilege, and relationships are often things which they just can’t psychologically identify with, having always been “in” then can’t mental grasp an “out” and any example seems to them as something you can just change…like which bar you go to, or listening to music if it’s “not right channel” then change it – its that “this is something that cant be changed” I try to get them to understand. I’ve succeeded with a few and they start realising their routine acceptance and privilege to do so, but for most it challenges their security and their own identity/heirarchial role and they haven’t ever had to build friendly coping methods to deal with such an experience.

      I am very polytheistic. The gods are individuals, eg Woden and Odin are two different beings. But I also live inside an Animist multi-verse (all is divine, all has spirit). To mansplain it; I liken it to United States citizens. (I’m outside the States). From Outside they all talk funny, all pay taxes to IRS, etc etc. Much of them is the same. But if you look at them they’re individuals, not interchangable.

      For the more transcendant aspect of deity I liken it to local city councils. It has identity, it can write letters, pay bills, charge you bills, it makes rules and laws, policy and decision and react. But where is it? Is it the Mayor? Is it the buildings? Is it the staff? No, it is all of those things, but none of those things. It is an emergent property – and not all city councils are alike but they all share properties and purpose which lets us label what they are and what they do with a label which fits “councils”. Likewise with the Polytheistic gods, they are what and who they are because that is the label that fits them…. However UPG-wise; creation of the universe must have got far enough along that enough “Form” and differences for individuals and names to appear must be present for such individuals and names to appear !
      Likewise I say to those who regard them as archetypes in the mind – is that yes we can see them as mental architypes – just as we have a mental construct for a city council. We interact with our own archetype, but that doesn’t mean there isn’t an objective individual/identity out there. And! That any interaction with the external “council” must be done through the Plato’s cave of our own archetypical council, which is why most tests for objective existence will only prove the Plato’s Cave Archetype does exist.

      Like

  4. Gandhi wrote that there are as many religions as there are human beings. Its probably safe to say the same thing about genders.

    I’m not qualified to speak to the trans experience. I wish people could do what they felt was deeply necessary for themselves without other people feeling compelled to issue challenges, prim commentaries and condemnations.

    As for religion, I believe in God and the gods. I honor both. I perceive no contradiction in this. If I believe in grandchildren, then I believe in grandparents. If I believe in rivers, I believe in the ocean. I’m not going to say, “all rivers are one river”, or, “only rivers exist”. I don’t consider this to be either advanced or retrograde, just a response to reality as I understand it at present.

    Liked by 2 people

  5. Most of the theological discussion here strikes me as limited primarily to post-Christian paganism in general and Wicca in specific. Most of those conflicts don’t seem to apply to Shakti theology for example, but it likely involves its own theological conflicts. The idea of an evolutionary progression of religions doesn’t apply to religions where monotheism, polytheism, and animism are all simultaneously true.

    Liked by 2 people

      • Dismantling it into what? Socialist based societies and societies of elders tend to be even worse – they maintain the same heirarchy of those in favour (well rewarded government) and those who are underlyings, and those who are perceived as threats to ones on top. The only real difference is that in capitialist societies small groups/individuals can own their own property and opinions and the money (resources) can be followed – in other systems the same power over abuse and cronism happens except there is no recourse or privacy rights.

        Like

  6. A balm upon the soul.

    Like my friends skin or genitalia I was curious of all things.
    When coming to Wicca it was a dualism, yet like the seahorse it seemed to be an imposed dualism.

    Being brought up on a dairy farm, in the 70’s and 80’s; being a male was a bad thing – Males were sacrificial and a threat; they had no privileges only responsibilities to provide for everyone else or to be got rid of.

    As a recent FB meme says: The problem with putting others first is it teaches them to put yourself as second.
    This very much resonates with my experiences with the feminist movement – they could only see the successful and the desirable, just like the cow herd, they all wanted to be the top cow. A few men got paid well, so all men must be paid well, some men were abusers so all men got treated as abusers, some men liked to be submissive and that was an advantage so it was expected that all men should obey.
    Yet the same was on my feminine side. I was only allowed to talk about people, never ideas – I was “only a woman”. I could not participate in some sports well, the body wasn’t really designed for that activity (and the trainers never knew how to adapt the movements) so I constantly did poorly but was never allowed to adjust things (to be different was bad and challenging those who were better than me), we were all equal (except I had no say).

    yet spirit moves in all things as presents in the multitude.

    mist.
    trans-hermaphrodite. (read genderfluid, in todays terms)

    Liked by 1 person

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