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Jul. 28th, 2015


On "The Time of the Doctor"

DOCTOR: It all just disappears, doesn't it? Everything you are, gone in a moment, like breath on a mirror. Any moment now, he's a-coming.
CLARA: Who's coming?
DOCTOR: The Doctor.
CLARA: But you, you are the Doctor.
DOCTOR: Yep, and I always will be.
(His hands are glowing.)
DOCTOR: But times change, and so must I.
(The Doctor sees a young Amy Pond run up the stairs, laughing.)
DOCTOR: Amelia?
CLARA: Who's Amelia?
DOCTOR: The first face this face saw. We all change, when you think about it. We're all different people all through our lives. And that's okay, that's good, you've got to keep moving, so long as you remember all the people that you used to be. I will not forget one line of this. Not one day. I swear. I will always remember when the Doctor was me.

Not to be petty, but then there's this:
DOCTOR: Oh, she's smiling. As if today wasn't bad enough. Anyway, don't go thinking this is goodbye, Wilf. I'll see you again, one more time.
WILF: What do you mean? When's that?
DOCTOR: Just keep looking. I'll be there.
WILF: Where are you going?
SIGMA: We will sing to you, Doctor. The universe will sing you to your sleep. This song is ending, but the story never ends.


(Golden energy streams from his hand. He sets the Tardis going.)
DOCTOR: I don't want to go.

I always say that Moffat seems to write in response to RTD, and this regeneration scene is absolutely an answer to Ten's. Nine's was so sweet and gentle and affirming (it's really not fair to compare Nine's to Ten's, but I HAVE A BIAS), but Ten wanted his "reward" and so went on a giant time-traveling vacation to see all his companions one more time and then protested once again that he wasn't ready. To Ten's credit (look, I can be fair!), he angrily protests at first that he doesn't deserve to die, that death isn't a fair reward, but once he hears himself, he steps up, saves Wilf, and takes it on himself. Then he makes his own reward before that final protest, and boom- we have Eleven.

These two scenes are intensely different in a lot of ways, but one that strikes me now (as it struck me then) is that Ten wants to cling to being Ten, so he wants desperately to stay alive and not to regenerate. Eleven has a very different perspective, because he knows that this is it- no more regenerations. He takes the slow path for centuries, giving up everything he's loved (companions and the TARDIS and adventures in time and space) because he has to protect this one, tiny, innocent village and his own people, and he can't sacrifice either of them. So he spends his days growing older, helping people, protecting them all, until he knows he has nothing left up his sleeve. Seeing Clara again is a gift that he is given- it's not what he willfully chose for himself. He only wanted to know she was safe, while Tasha loved the Doctor enough to make sure he wasn't alone. The Doctor goes to his death that night on Trenzilore, and he's ready for it, knowing he's done every possible thing he can, saved every life he could for hundreds and hundreds of years, and ready for the end. It's Clara who, once again, acts of her own free will. She, once again, does the impossible- she convinces the Time Lords to help the Doctor, to shoot him up with enough regeneration energy to keep going and to save the village, and to give up on the crack and hope to find another way back into the universe.

Eleven's regeneration is a gift that he didn't expect to receive, and the universe gives him more- it gives him reminders of all the village children he's saved over the centuries, covering the TARDIS in their pictures for him, but more than that, it gives him one last glimpse of Amy Pond. He is so grateful, and so utterly at peace; he doesn't resent his next self at all, and goes so far as to ask Clara to help him, if she can.

I was so cranky at the time over Ten's regeneration tour through time and space for a multitude of reasons, most of which I've already discussed ad nauseum over the years. I hated how he clung to himself and that particular regeneration when he had let go with joy the last time he sacrificed himself for someone else (the way that Ten's sulkiness seemed to make Nine's beautiful arc of redemption pointless is what set me on my Ten-resenting ways, after all). I hated the self-indulgence of RTD as a writer in that moment, determined to wallow in his own creations and make sure YOU LOVED HIM AND WHAT HE GAVE YOU. And I shouted back at Tennant that if he really wasn't ready to go, HE DIDN'T HAVE TO END HIS CONTRACT. YOU WANT TO STAY, THEY WILL LET YOU, I PROMISE.

Luckily, I didn't have to write the next regeneration, because it would have involved a lot more ranting. Instead, Moffat gives us a real reward for all that the Doctor sacrificed- the Doctor gets more time, and he is so, so grateful for it. He is thankful for all the lives he has had, and thankful for this one in particular- incredibly powerful, considering how self-loathing this Doctor has been. I feel content myself (even when the scene always makes me cry), that instead of an actor proclaiming he's not ready to leave his show, I have an actor telling me that he'll always remember and treasure his time as the Doctor.

It's a scene written in response to Ten. There are parallels (seeing his old companion), but it's a scene that's very poignant for all that it doesn't do. This Doctor is ready to go, and to become his next self; it won't be easy, but the actual leaving is bearable when it's worth it.

Well done, Eleven. You have so very much to be proud of, and I'm so grateful that you knew it, and knew you were loved.

Jul. 16th, 2015


apparently this is an all-Rory, all-the-time blog now

So here I am, sitting in the box office and kicking back during Act I of tonight's show, keeping on with my rewatch of Doctor Who. I just finished the second Flesh episode and started "A Good Man Goes to War," and two thoughts IMMEDIATELY popped to mind.

1 Is not actually about Rory, I AM SORRY, I HAVE ALREADY LED YOU ASTRAY. The Flesh arc ends with the Doctor getting the proof he needs both to prove that a Flesh!person is 100% able to fool even the people who love them best into thinking they are with the Real Deal, but also to block the transmission to the Flesh!Amy. I never really thought about it before, but MY GOD, the morality of his choice to destroy Flesh!Amy is QUITE dodgy, isn't it? We just spent a two-episode arc exploring the idea that, when you make a perfect copy of a person down to their memories and emotions and DNA, it is immoral to dispose of them cavalierly. You have created a Person. And then the Doctor tells us that, given what they've just experienced, he's going to do it as humanely as possible, but he is going to end Flesh!Amy's life. And that's what it is, isn't it? On the one hand, Flesh!Amy was created absolutely 100% WITHOUT Amy's consent and it was a horrible, horrible transgression by the eyepatch lady. The Doctor decided the time had come to reveal that he knew what was going on so that they could stop it and also come to terms with the deception- ALL of them, including Prime!Amy. Real Amy. But the other hand is the inevitable termination of a life to do so, an act which wiped out a version of Amy Pond. She wasn't the "real" Amy, but we JUST SAW that that didn't matter. Presumably, had everything not turned horribly, horribly awry at the end of that arc, best case scenario was that all the originals AND the gangers would have survived and they would have sorted things out. But not Flesh!Amy. She didn't get that chance, through no fault of her own. And that's a little unsettling. You know me- I love my grey-area-dwelling Doctor, but damn. That's cold.

2 OKAY, NOW IT IS RORY TIME. So "A Good Man Goes to War" begins with this monologue of Amy's to baby Melody, the point of which is a promise. The transcript I just dug up tells me that she says:

Because there's someone coming. I don't know where he is, or what he's doing, but trust me, he's on his way. There's a man who's never going to let us down, and not even an army can get in the way. He's the last of his kind. He looks young, but he's lived for hundreds and hundreds of years. And wherever they take you, Melody, however scared you are, I promise you, you will never be alone. Because this man is your father. He has a name, but the people of our world know him better as the Last Centurion.

Now on the one hand, this is Moff YET AGAIN teasing the part of the audience that wants this to be an Amy/Doctor story. I remember watching this and my eyebrows going through the ROOF when she tells him that this mythic man is Melody's father, and even KNOWING it was surely somehow about Rory, not really understanding how the claim worked until she named him "The Last Centurion." And, if I'm honest, it's a little too much narrative sleight of hand for me- the audience is being DELIBERATELY misled and it doesn't work as neatly as Moffat thinks it does.

I adore the idea that on Earth, the legends of the Last/Lone Centurion in the Earth That Never Was loomed that large... But no one on our Earth knows the Lone Centurion because the Pandorica never actually happened? So even if some elements of the story remain in our consciousness, surely it's not as clear as it was for the Doctor Who audience.

But honestly, that level of nitpicking has never been something I'm interested in, bc that's not what Moff is interested- he loves the big, mythic idea and the fiddly details aren't nearly as important next to That.

So what I really, REALLY love about this speech being about Rory is that none of it, not one bit of it, is about the Doctor. Amy has SO MUCH FAITH in Rory that she knows he will reach her and rescue her, no matter what. Maybe the Doctor will help, but if he can't? RORY WILL BE THERE FOR HER ANYWAY. Her beautiful, gangling nerdy nurse husband loves her so deeply that he will protect her for 2000 years, and he will cross all of space and time to bring her home. He doesn't have magic powers or a blue box. He doesn't have the ability to regenerate, and he's no longer made of plastic and superdurable. He is a man, an ordinary man, who happens to be so loving and loyal and brave that none of those things matter. He will do whatever it takes to save her, and that is a rock-solid certainty for her.

All of the Doctor's companions generally have the certainty that when they are in peril, the Doctor will come for him- it's part of the bargain they implicitly strike when they step inside the TARDIS (and it's what makes the first Twelve episode with Clara so powerful). But to Amy? That bargain PALES in comparison to what she has with Rory, so much so that she doesn't even mention the Doctor. All of her speech and what it promises is infinitely more powerful because it's about a normal man, not a Time Lord. Rory will risk so much more than the Doctor COULD to save her, and he will never fail her trust.

Amy has never needed the Doctor, or depended on the Doctor, or trusted the Doctor, as much as she has Rory. And by god, he will live up to her belief in him even when her clay idol of the Raggedy Man crumbles before her. Rory Williams is an ordinary man, a nurse, a husband, a friend, and the Lone Centurion. He is going to save his wife- and she knows it.

Jul. 13th, 2015

vision [shakespeare]

two great tastes that go great together?

So yesterday, poor_choices posted some Arcadia fic on tumblr, and because she wants to destroy me, texted me and left me raging at her in capslock over how heartbreakingly good it was. What a jerk.

As I yelled at her over text message, I mentioned one of the things that I love best about the play- the transformation of Septimus Hodge- and why it propels the play into this huge, sweeping romantic stratosphere that you'd never have foreseen. I think that if 90% of the audience doesn't get a crush on Septimus, something has gone awry in your production. He's smart and kind and wry and sarcastic and has a connection to Thomasina that's very special, right away. But he's also very pragmatic and cynical and takes the pleasure that he can where he can, whether or not it's particularly good for him. As the reveal seeps out, however, and we know his full fate- that he loved Thomasina so deeply that he became fanatically devoted to proving her theory after her death, slaving over her equation until he died, and turning from accomplished Oxonian to the mad hermit in the wilderness (or at least, of the Park)... That transformation absolutely slays me every time, and leads to a lot of beating of the breast and gnashing of the teeth because it's not just the gesture- I love you enough to squander my life away to bring you the attention you should have been paid- but that it's SEPTIMUS HODGE who does it. The fact that it happens because he doesn't sleep with Thomasina and so isn't there to blow out that candle (he tries to do the right thing and in a very real way, that's the reason the woman he loves dies)- well, it just adds an extra heap of pathos to the whole thing.

So then last night, I was finishing a rewatch of S5 of Doctor Who, which we all know my feelings about. I absolutely love revisiting it and thinking about how much I loved picking it apart and loving it back together with all of you- I guess it was the last time the majority of the conversation I had or observed was on LJ at all, which is a hell of a thing! I've been thinking a lot about Rory lately- I saw Arthur Darvill at AwesomeCon in DC at the end of May, and he commented at one point during his panel that he agreed that Rory wasn't treated particularly well by Amy. Loving Rory as I do, I paid some extra, conscious attention to him in this season, to the journey he takes and the complexities of his relationship with Amy.

And then I got to the two-part finale and had a Thought.

Rory Williams becomes Rory the Roman becomes the Lone Centurion. He tries so desperately to do the right thing, to be himself and be his BEST self and to overcome the Nestene programming, but he fails and his own, literal hand kills the woman he loves. Luckily- miraculously, if you will- there's hope: Amy can be resurrected by the Pandorica. But Amy will be safer if he can guard her, and so he makes the impossible decision to stay with her for as long as he can, until he breaks down or melts or goes mad from TWO THOUSAND YEARS (a thousand more than the Doctor's been alive) or god only knows what. When Amy awakes, we briefly see how the Lone Centurion kept her safe through almost two millenia, becoming the stuff of legend himself, all because of his absolute devotion to the woman he loves, beyond reason, if not hope itself.

And it sounded a hell of a lot like Septimus Hodge. They seem like two different fairy tales, one that ended in tragedy (although the bigger, wider story shows us hope after all- Thomasina's equation is going to be known after all, proved by Val and his computer if not by Septimus and his algebra) and one that ended happily. Both are stories about someone who sacrifices an easier, more expected path to devote everything that they have and are to the woman who is lost to them. They do it in hope that their sacrifice will be for her gain somehow, bringing her back into the world. Rory does it because he hopes Amy will live again, even when he doubts he'll be there to see the Pandorica open again. Septimus has no such hope that Thomasina will live again except through her genius being recognized, so he will do everything he can to prove that a sixteen year old girl understood the things that philosophers barely dared to guess at.

I said earlier that the impact of Septimus as mathematical hermit is because it's Septimus the cynic, but it's a little different for Rory. Rory is anything BUT a cynic. Rory's the nurse who helps people any way he can, who has been in love with Amy for most of his life, and who is happy wherever he can be at her side, whether that's in the village or across time and space (he's done his research, too, so he knows what he might be getting into there). He doubts himself sometimes, but he never doubts his love for Amy. It's the audience who doubts him- we'd seen "the boyfriend" before and saw him be too afraid, then too resentful to understand what it meant to be a part of someone's life who traveled with the Doctor. Mickey came around eventually, but only because he was forced to change, to become his better self. Rory surprised us because he was already open to possibilities most people couldn't dream of, even as he seemed to staunchly occupy the space of the everyman. He knows the value of what he does, even when the box he makes for himself is consciously small and ordinary.

When Rory comes back as Rory the Roman, his second shot at life is already a miracle, a side effect the universe never intended. You hear critique sometimes about Moffat's Who, that no one is ordinary any more, all the companions are special snowflakes. Not Rory Williams. Rory is as ordinary as they come in his soul, and as absolutely extraordinary as every single human being can be. Rory's choice to stay by Amy's side through hundreds of years of hardship, just to keep her safe, is remarkable BECAUSE he's the everyman. Someone in your own life might be capable of that kind of extraordinary, miraculous love, the kind of love that will wait two thousand years if it means seeing the person they love again. The Doctor likes to tell people to be extraordinary, to be their best; Rory shows us that no matter how small you think you might be, your best can shine almost inconceivably bright.

Septimus Hodge and Rory Williams aren't the likeliest of parallel characters, but when they make the sacrifices they make for the women they love, they shine an interesting light on each other. They are the heroes who wait, who do the impossible because the love they bear is almost impossibly big. Lest we forget, waiting is active, waiting is HARD. They wait because they hope, and they suffer because they love, but ultimately, neither of them waits, or loves, in vain. Their love transforms their world- it just might take a little while.

Aug. 25th, 2014

tardis [doctor who]

once again, I find myself without an icon for the new Doctor

Thoughts on Deep Breath and the State of the WhoCollapse )

Aug. 16th, 2014

bright young thing

Leaky Con- Day 1 and Open at the Close

As previously mentioned, I went to my first LeakyCon this year. In the first post, I talked about the awesomeness of Mark. Now, it's time to start talking about all the REST of my Leaky adventuring. But be warned- this is a giant recap that's mostly for my own benefit, one that I imagine won't be of much interest to anyone but myself. :)

Yer a wizard, Emily!: Day One and Open at the CloseCollapse )
eleven/tardis otp [doctor who]

not the Doctor Who griping you're looking for

I am getting cranky about Doctor Who again. But it's all REACTIONARY crankiness because I'm thinking of all the complaints I hear about the show in recent seasons and I persist in reading it differently.Collapse )

Aug. 10th, 2014


made of flecks of light and dark and parasols

I just stepped out of a solid production of Sunday in the Park with George. It's biggest issue was the lack of the way that Mandy Patinkin says the word "red," which is nobody's fault. (Ok, technically, there were other issues- the actress playing Dot didn't have a lot of power in her voice, and George also had some occasional pitch problems, but that's the sort of thing you know when you've been listening to Mandy and Bernadette since you were a teenager). I was so pleased that a girl I met and will be working with this fall got to go on today as the Nurse- I ran into her in the lobby while waiting to get a rush ticket, and promised her to Woo! during the curtain call.

But that's not what I'm here to say.

I am here to say that my biggest takeaway from Act II (infamous for being the weaker of the two) is that CLEARLY, I AM MEANT TO SHIP GEORGE/DENNIS, Dennis being George's tech collaborator for his chromolumes (here played with scads of nebbish charm). BECAUSE SERIOUSLY. His departure is CLEARLY a parallel to Dot's (they both leave because they need something different than what George can give them, after playing a key role in his art). Dennis loves and understands George's art, and despite moving on (see what I did there?), he supports George unequivocally in whatever he does next. George, of course, has a failed marriage already and while we don't know why they split, it is OBVIOUS, AMIRITE? GEORGE IS COMING TO TERMS WITH HIS GRAND PASSION FOR DENNIS. All the awkwardness when Marie is urging George and his ex to have children and no one is explaining is CLEARLY because neither of them knows how to explain the situation.


Aug. 8th, 2014

loki is a free spirit [thor]

(no subject)

OOOPS. I joined a livestream to play copperbadge's Avengers drinking game and had DELICIOUS pink lemonade + tequila and then MORE WINE and OOPS. DRANK A LOT. IT TURNS OUT. Remember when we all used to drunk post more? THOSE WERE DELIGHTFUL DAYS. Rather than the LJ equivalent of drunk dialing friends, drunk posting on LJ now feels like shouting into the inebriated void.


I still owe a Leaky con post, I know, but I also have a shift in the box office tomororrow so MAYBE THEN???? I had intended to go to the downtown farmers' market tomorrow but LOLZ CLEARLY THAT AIN'T GOING TO HAPPEN NOWWWWW>

In short. I love you all. I drank a LOT but it doesn;t count as drinking alone when you drink with peiple on the internet who are keeping track of the drinking game RULES. RUKES ARE MADE TO BE FOLLOWED. OR SOMETHING. KNEEEEEEEL.

Feb. 26th, 2014


(no subject)

I feel like I'm beating my head against the wall, trying to learn the music for Labor. What I really need is a music coach- someone who can sit with me at a piano and teach me all the weird measures and guide me through the songs until I get a better grasp on them. This person should ideally want to be paid in cookies. Tucker's music is just tremendously hard in unexpected ways and I'm having a devil of a time trying to learn it on my own. Each piece of his I've done has been getting progressively overcomplicated, and it makes me a little sad. I'm trying to not succumb to the demons of despair and OMG I HAVE FORGOTTEN HOW TO MUSIC, but it's tricky and premiering a new piece with an orchestra in a fancy New Orleans venue in two months puts a WEE BIT OF PRESSURE onto the situation.

So instead of going to see the new play we're producing at my theatre tonight, I stayed in and tried to work through the score again. I spent about an hour on two pieces, trying to produce a rehearsal recording of myself singing my part (which, tbh, is the main source of my angst because then you get to hear every damn mistake and note that went flat and ughhhhhhh), so hopefully that will help a little.


I did get to go see STC's lovely production of The Importance of Being Earnest on Sunday night. While part of my heart will always and forever long to have seen the Runyonesque production directed by David Hyde Pierce, there certainly is a lot to be said for stylish, traditionally staged Wilde. My old pal Keith Baxter came back to DC to direct it- and was in the house on Sunday night- as he seems to have struck some sort of secret deal years ago with CMK to direct all of Wilde's major plays.

What really struck me this time around was how gorgeously wrought the play really is- yes, the aphorisms are brilliant, but Wilde is also a master at setting up a joke early on and then really making it pay off an act or two later. Take, for instance, the exchange between Jack and Algernon in Act I:
JACK: I'll bet you anything you like that half an hour after they have met, they will be calling each other sister.
ALGERNON: Women only do that when they have called each other a lot of other things first.”

A quick, tossed-off joke in Act I. But then, well into Act II, Gwendolyn and Cecily are finally on stage together. There's a delicious build-up as the audience watches the shifts back and forth between the women from cordiality to tension to outright ire. The audience always eats it up, as well they should, but the best part is feeling the growing certitude of the audience around you that they feel the build-up, too. Because of course, we reach this exchange:

CECILY [To Gwendolen.]: A gross deception has been practised on both of us.

GWENDOLYN: My poor wounded Cecily!

CECILY: My sweet wronged Gwendolen!

GWENDOLYN [Slowly and seriously.]: You will call me sister, will you not? [They embrace. Jack and Algernon groan and walk up and down.]

Most everyone in the audience can feel it coming in that final pause before Gwendolyn's last line, but there's also always a few people who DON'T see it coming and you can tell from just how delighted they are as they laugh.

Because of COURSE it will get a laugh and that's why Wilde scripts in that tiny pause for Jack and Algernon to react silently until the laugh dies down.

It's a theatrical payoff as exquisitely crafted as any of the aphorisms. I spent most of high school obsessed with Wilde, reading the plays, the essays, the poetry, De Profundis, The Picture of Dorian Gray; my freshman dorm room at Haverford had the Wilde film poster hanging on my wall and the only book I took to my semester at King's was the Complete Works of Wilde. By then, some of the bloom was fading (I found Dorian Gray in particular insufferable), but I've never gotten over that first attachment.

I also couldn't stop giggling before the show about how the defining moment of the entire play comes from one short sentence. Namely (sing it with me)....


*bonus Sue White

This production featured Livia Sian Phillips herself as Lady Bracknell and there was a tiny part of myself that felt like I could have happily gone home after Act I, having seen her HAAAAAANDBAAAAAAAG. It's rather peculiar to me that THAT'S the moment we all cling to in this play- it's not a moment for wit so much as a showcase for good vocal production. 90% of actors even do the same line reading (at least in my experience).

One day, someone is going to do a post-modern Earnest that consists entirely of actors standing downstage, repeating HAAAANDBAAAAAAG over and over again, probably for HOURS.

Feb. 4th, 2014

hal's angels [shakespeare]

I never kid about Prince Hal

Back in 2011, a movie called Thor happened. You've probably heard about it. I was mildly excited about it, as I was really digging Marvel comics movies and my teenage crush on Ken Branagh was looking forward to seeing what he did with something that I had no real prior emotional investment in. I got especially excited when I started hearing good things about it, since the movie opened in the UK before it did here, and one such poster of good things was the ever-brilliant kerrypolka. K said something that intrigued me:

As I said on Twitter, Thor (the character) was like what would happen if some night-tripping fairy actually had exchanged Hotspur for Prince Hal. All of the daddy issues, but also all of the "PUNCH > is problem resolved? if no > PUNCH HARDER!".... Loki was the John of Lancaster of the little planet of Norwegian Plantagenets - his motivation was basically "Lies and genocide will make my father love me more than my stupid older rightful-heir brother! >:D" and he stomped around going "GOD THOR WHY CAN'T YOU STOP BEING SUCH A FUCKUP FOR A CHANGE I AM SO MUCH BETTER THAN YOU >:( >:( >:(" a lot. It was extremely charming... The other great part was that everyone in Asgard seemed to have a really laid-back excellent time. Thor's university friends (Poins, Doll Tearsheet and Gadshill; the characters might actually have different names) seemed to spend all their time high-fiving each other and going on ill-advised raids, and all the actors did great jobs of having ":D?" plastered on their faces as default expressions.

Imagine the Emily of three years ago perking up, her Hal radar pinging in excitement. I went to see the movie and enjoyed the hell out of it, and best of all- EVERYTHING K SAID WAS TRUE. OH MAN. Many discussions were had about the truthiness of her report, and over the years, I just kind of take it for granted that people will understand what I mean when I say, OH THOR'S TOTALLY ALL ABOUT THE HENRIAD, YA KNOW.

Skip ahead to nowabouts. The Shakespeare Theatre is doing a rep of the Henry IV plays to my ABOUNDING pleasure, starting in March. Germane to this discussion is the fact that for the last two seasons, STC has been doing a podcast before each play opens that features discussion between the literary associate, the audience enrichment manager, and other guests. Seeing as how I know both of these folks, I tweeted at them tonight (fresh off an invigorating and frenzied conversation with arcadiaego about the parallels between Hal and Loki) that if their conversation didn't reference the Thor films, I'd be exceedingly disappointed.

I've since been assured that it will be included, with the added bonus that I might lend Drew a list of talking points.


Does anyone want to take a look at those parallels again? I've gotten so used to the shorthand at this point that it's been awhile since I really thought about WHY it works so well.

In which I talk a hell of a lot about character parallels, but could use your insightCollapse )

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