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About: Murphy


Posts by Murphy:

The BEAST Page 3 Twilight Mom

December 5th, 2009 by

twilight momName: Beverly Nusbaum.

Turn-ons: adolescent boys, vampires, werewolves, atrocious writing, bad CGI, Mormons and being judged by different sexual standards than men.

Turn-offs: Dostoevsky, fags, blacks, thinking with my brain and greasy cookware.

How we got to be The BEAST Page 3 Twilight Mom: Well, I was out at the local shopping mall—you know, scoping out the genitalia of adolescent boys when I was approached by BEAST editor Allan Uthman. I went with him, because I thought he was a werewolf. He sure is hairy, but it turns out that he’s just Kurdish. Too bad, too, because I was getting all wet down there! I guess after I get home I’ll just diddle myself to my daughter’s high school yearbook—again.

Future plans: I’m going to furiously masturbate while thinking of adolescent werewolves. I also plan on taking out a loan to start my own vampire dating service. Or maybe I’ll write my own book about masturbating to adolescent vampires and werewolves just like Stephenie Meyer!

How I’d like to be remembered: As an odd cultural phenomenon, wherein, old ladies are allowed to fawn over, and masturbate to, shallow descriptions of supernatural creatures—and all under the clever guise of bonding with my daughter, which is funny, because I fucking hate that bitch.

1 Comment

We gets [sic] mail!

December 5th, 2009 by

Human Energy

I’m a frequent blogger on Dot Earth, Realclimate, and Climate Progress. We’re all getting sick of the loony tune oil company paid climate change deniers. I want to write “10 most debunked global warming articles”, featuring assholes like Will and bad scientists like Lindzen. This will make Buffalobeast world famous, and your income will triple overnight. Plus, you will save the world. The format will be similar to 50 most loathsome Americans. How much will you pay?
Dear Mike,
If you triple our income, let’s see (carry the nothing), we’d have approximately zero monies. But sure, write the thing, and we’ll give you a cut of that. And don’t fudge the tree ring data!

More than zero

how much cash do you guys need to keep operating? is this shit done with?
i will contribute, i just don’t want my money getting spent on shrooms in 2 months when you decide the beast is truly dead.

my cousin will give you some money too!


Dear Jonathan,
See above. Why can’t we buy shrooms? That, sir, is a deal breaker. We said good day!

Will he Wonk..uh & The Stupid Factory?

It certainly appears that the Republican Party did not learn a thing from the 2008 election. They continue to run candidates who openly embrace values in direct conflict with those traditionally held dear by the conservative voter. The end result is what we are seeing. Republican candidate Dede Scozzafava was forced out of New York’s 23rd Congressional district race early because voters were sick and tired of having the Republican Party tell them that those values were outdated and not in the best interest of the Party. It may be that the Republican Party will wake-up and realize that it is really about what the voter wants . . . not what the so-called leaders of the Party want. Even now, the National Republican Party is fragmented and being pulled apart by a bunch of wannabe leaders who disregard the voiced desires of the body of the Party because they believe the rhetoric put forth by the Democratic Party defining what the Country wants. Our politicians in general have come to believe that the individual voter no longer matters. People are disgusted with the wavering they see from the leadership (if you could honestly call it that). Both the Democratic and the Republican Parties are self-absorbed and that self-absorption is destroying our country. It resulted in the current administration gaining the Whitehouse in 2008 and now we are suffering with the insane levels of spending the Democrats have become infamous for.
The surest and most simple solution is to vote all incumbents out of office over the next three election cycles. If the American voter bands together to send a message to the corrupt scum currently holding elected seats, we may be able to win our country back. It really does not matter whether you replace a Republican with another Republican or a Democrat because either way, the winner will attempt to pick your pocket of the small change that may remain after the current administration spends us into hyperinflation.
Respectfully yours,

Robert M. Collinsworth

Dear Bobby,
Can we call you Bobby? ‘Cause you seem like a real swell guy, we’ll let you in on a little secret: you know that crazy Palin-wing of the Republican party? Their values are outdated. Dude, those values are SO ’93—1793. Zing!
Seriously, go kill yourself.

Um… right here!


I love your magazine. Thank you.
-John Chester Howe Jesuston

Dear Mr. Jesuston,
Perhaps we haven’t made it clear, but sadly, The BEAST’s days in print are done. We’re now an online sensation, or something. OMG! ROFL! Expect more regular content. As for why we haven’t produced any new content  in a while: we overslept.


Will there be more issues?
Is the Beast dead?
What is the prognosis?

Dear Paul,
The BEAST isn’t dead, it just smells funny.
Never mind. That’s just Uthman.


I am a former Buffalo native now living in Seattle since 1985. I was wondering when your new issue will appear on your website. It seems that this current issue has been on site for months now. I find your site highly amusing and being an old hippie from the 70′s, your work falls right into my interest .
Michael Harber

Dear Michael,
Right…now! Oh, well, hit the refresh button in your web browser—you know, the little circular arrow thing. There you go. BTW, Murphy used to live in Seattle, and he wants to know if the “Heroin Hotel” is still lowering  property values in the U district. Eh, you seem more like a Capital Hill sort of guy.


What is this president thinking, even better WHY?
Plus who will pay for this?
A number of Terrorists being brought to
American Soil to be tried under our Constitution
You are hereby notified, Mr. President
“Americans will not be responsible for this cost of these Trials”.
What happens if they get set FREE, what IF?

This President listens to ACLU, ACORN, CZARS, SEIU or any other Radical Group, but won’t listen or consider how the American People feel or want. This President could care less about America or its people. He’s put such a burden on us and our children in less than a year. How will it be paid back? Bringing these Terrorist to our country will give them all the constitutional rights Americans have. How is that possible? There not Americans, there Terrorist. They have no rights, PERIOD. They killed Americans thousands of them, so what gives them any rights?

THERE TERRORIST RADICAL TERRORIST. But Obama has sympathy for those people it seems. WHO WILL PAY FOR THIS? WHO WILL PAY FOR THERE DEFENSE? Not New Yorkers or the American People, we are saying NO.

What I think, I think your representatives, plus the Democrat Senators and Congress along with the President, should pay for there trial and there support. Not New Yorkers, or the American People. WE are saying NO, WHAT DO YOU THINK N.Y. Let your representatives know how you feel.

This is just one more issue, why Americans feel this Democratic Administration and this president, MUST BE FIRED IN 2010/2012. Come election time remember all that this administration is doing to the American People and America, when you go to VOTE.
-Carole Frazier

Dear Carole,
You’ve made a rebuttal rather redundant, but we’ll put this in terms you’ll understand: IF YOU DON’T LIKE THIS COUNTRY AND OUR LEGAL SYSTEM, WELL, YOU CAN GET OUT! GO BACK TO GABON! Just kidding, Carole. They don’t want you either.


Good afternoon,
My name is Mary E. Kuebler, [address redacted]. Should you have any questions I may be reaced at the following numbers ([redacted] home; [redacted]  cell). I presently teach fourth grade in the Williamsville Central School District. I am using Hannah Stuart as my pen name. Hannah Stuart was my mother’s maiden name. I have adopted the name as a tribute to my mother.

Mary E. Kuebler

Dear Mary,
That’s touching. Really. Your mother would be proud. And we were just thinking about “reacing” you, woman we’ve never heard of.


And now you’ve just quit?

Dear Adam,
Uthman may have quit. It’s hard to say. He says he still works here, yet he hasn’t done anything in months. I mean, you got poor Rajneesh working his butt off on this here new website, Murphy’s been training the new BEAST mercenary squad (we’re coming for you!), Fallon’s been drinking heavily to inspire the whole BEAST team and Uthman’s just been playing Atari. He’s really into PONG right now. Weird.

It was just that one time!

I guess since I read it on your site, it must be real. YOU abuse puppies.

Dear You,
We believe you’re referring to our marketing campaign from several years ago: “Subscribe to The BEAST or we’ll [do something awful] to this puppy.” And yes, it was on the interwebs, so it must be true. Right?

Gold Man’s Sack

Re: goldman sachs
“We looked into the Abyss.” There we saw Wall Street billionaires becoming millionaires. So goldman operatives (in and out of government) sacrificed virgins like the Ancients did when pacifying angry volcanos. This gang tossed in whole generations of virgin taxpayers, some as yet unborn, who will be handed the bail out bills.
-RT Carpenter

Dear RT,
What color beret are you wearing right now? Oh, that’s hot.

Egg on your face

Hi, I hope the Beast is still alive. I’ve been trying to submit a manuscript but no editor has a working email. I hope this gets to someone. If you are still publishing, please give me an address that works. If I don’t hear anything by the end of the day, I will submit elsewhere.
Thank you,
Nick Peters

Dear Nick,
Dude, your article is right here. What’s the problem? It was fairly amusing, too. Although we should point out that by publishing your piece we are in no way condoning your failed attempt to egg Sarah Palin. We wish you would have hit her.


I have to find Richard “Skippy” Mills now. It is urgent and you are the
only way I know to contact him.
Tell him it is L’l Momma and I need his help urgently.

Thank you. More thank yous if you find him for me.

Lyn M. Anton

Dear Lyn,
Try Craigslist Missed Connections or something. Seriously, how are you expecting us to help you? OK, OK! Does anyone out there know Skippy? Skippy! SKIPPY! SKIPPY! If you’re out there, L’l Momma needs you! Better?

You’re welcome

So nothing new has come out since mid-summer. Is it fair to say the Beast is all done? If so, you guys were the shit. Thanks for a lot of laughs and some great information.

Dear Brian,
We’re still the shit. Tell your friends.


Family Lies!

December 5th, 2009 by


How Meredith Baxter’s obvious secret nixed the public option before it was ever debated, spawned homelessness in America and led to 9/11


“What would we do, baby, without us?”
-Family Ties Propaganda Song

It’s 1983: pro-business, family values conservatism is sweeping the nation, new creatures called homeless are squeegeeing the windshields of our wicked DeLoreans, Reagan’s CIA is funding the Mujahideen to repel the evil Soviets from Afghanistan and an NBC gem in its second season called “Family Ties” warms the nation’s cathode rays and hearts. Read More



December 4th, 2009 by

GullersteinSagittarius (Nov 22 – Dec 21)

Sagittarius, I see tranny porn in your future. I also see it  in your browser history.

Capricorn (Dec 22 – Jan 19)

You can quote Reinhold Niebuhr all you want, Capricorn, but eating the last slice of pizza was immoral.

Aquarius (Jan 20 – Feb 18)

At some point in the coming days Aquarius, you will recall this horoscope’s dead-on prediction.

Pisces (Feb 18 – Mar 20)

If you want to be a marine biologist, well, that’s your choice, Pisces. But I won’t tolerate your providing aid and comfort to the anemone.

Aries (Mar 21 – Apr 19)

It’s great that as god’s earthy representative you’ve joined the fight against climate change, Aries, but instructing your benighted followers to never wear condoms is actually one of the most damaging things you could do to the environment. Plus, your god’s a joke, and those red shoes make you look like a fag-fucking cock-goblin.

Taurus (Apr 20 – May 20)

Is McDonald’s better than cat food? There’s only one way to find out! Actually, there are two ways to find out, but your cat’s too smart to eat McDonald’s.

Gemini (May 21 – June 20)

You know what’s dumb about “CSI: Miami,” Gemini? Everything. Absolutely everything.

Cancer (June 21 – July 22)

You shouldn’t feel stupid for buying a Buick just because it turns out Tiger Woods really drives a Cadillac, Cancer; you should feel stupid for watching golf.

Leo (July 23 – Aug 22)

Look, Leo, by definition it’s impossible to incorporate the nonviolent teachings of Gandhi and Dr. King into the ass-kicking teachings of Alexander the Great and Genghis Khan, but it sure does make a great speech!

Virgo (Aug 23 – Sept 22)

Hey, Virgo, did you know that “The Golden Girls” had a spinoff called “The Golden Palace,” which was about Rose, Blanche and Sophia opening a hotel? Did you also know that Don Cheadle played the hotel manager and Cheech Marin played the cook? And did you know that my girlfriend makes me watch “The Golden Girls” and that she has an unhealthy obsession with Golden Girls trivia?

Libra (Sept 23 – Oct 22)

You should really try getting into bonsai, Libra. The great thing about plants is they don’t scream when you cut them.

Scorpio (Oct 23 – Nov 21)

Dear Roland Emmerich,

Neutrinos do not “mutate”! And even if they did—somehow, impossibly—alter their physical makeup so that they could heat up the earth’s core like a “microwave,” said neutrinos would cook everything on the surface of the earth before moving on to cook the core. Think about it, Roland, because you obviously haven’t. And where’d you get the idea that your average, non-Navy-SEAL-human-being can hold their breath for two minutes? Seriously, what the fuck is wrong with you, man? But, I will say that your nonsensical nature-is-chasing-the-protagonist scenes in 2012 were far more believable than they were in The Day After Tomorrow. The thing about the phenomenon known as cold, Roland, is that it’s the relative absence of molecular velocity. The colder an object, the slower its molecules are moving. The point is, Roland, that if air is cold enough to kill people it can’t also chase people down hallways. And if it somehow possessed the agency to chase anything, at any speed, which air does not, the very act of chasing would heat the air via an increase in its molecular velocity. Roland, baby, try making a movie about something plausible, like, oh, I don’t know… a mediocre film maker with the mysterious ability to steal hours away from people’s lives and IQ points from their brains by enticing them into theaters with John Cusack and explosions. They say write what you know. And I know that if there’s any justice in this world, you will be raped by a rhinoceros. That rhinoceros will be named “No.” And the more you scream and cry, the more he’ll think you love it!

Everyone who likes good movies

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Porsches on the Autobahn

December 3rd, 2009 by



Check to Porsches on the Autobahn. Allegedly hailing from Düsseldorf, Germany – though their earliest artifacts appear around 2005 in NYC and Boston – Porsches weave a total aesthetic in which their German synthpop/hip-hop hybrid music only serves as a backdrop to an entire spectacle of Eurotrash style and American consumerist ego-centrism. Read More


Damn Right!

December 3rd, 2009 by

Salahis should face death penalty


Oak Forrest

Good evening, I’m Forrest Oak.

Am I the only one who gets how seriously this Salahi situation could have been? Oh, and it was a situation, folks. Let’s not kid ourselves. It could have been worse than 2012, directed by Roland Emmerich.

Here we had two totally unscreened individuals – we don’t know if they’re right in the head, we don’t know if they’ll go for a dinner fork and stab Joe Biden in the hand, we don’t if their cuff links shoot poison gas, we don’t know if they’re Ninja Assassins, directed by James McTeigue – with access, in proximity, and next to, the President and the Vice President of the United States. Sure, nothing “happened” this time, but next time it could make 9/11 look like a kitten’s asshole.

I know people are saying: “But the Salahis went through a metal detector! The Salahis had no more opportunity to harm President Obama than do thousands of other folks, who happen to be at Joe Biden’s favorite unscheduled hamburger pit stop!” Don’t buy the hype here, people. This is just more of that moderate-wing bunk coming out of Washington these days. I’m fed up to here with it! (I’m pointing to my deeply furrowed brow.) Read More

1 Comment


December 2nd, 2009 by

A brief message from The BEAST IT department


by BEAST Webmaster
Rajneesh Shahi Korma

OK, ma’am, I’m going to ask you to go ahead and reboot your computer at this time. Please hold.

Oh, hello, BEAST readers. I didn’t see you there. I may as well be taking this opportunity—please hold, thank you—to guide you through the known issues with The BEAST—please hold— website redesign. Please hold.

Read More

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An Awkward Conversation

December 1st, 2009 by

Author and professor of African-American literature and culture at University of Michigan  Dr. Michael Awkward raps about Negroes, hoes and “real” Jews with BEAST henchperson D. Armenta

Your latest book, “Burying Don Imus: Anatomy of a scapegoat” addresses an issue that the mainstream media (and by association, a large segment of the general public) has deemed offensive; you defend Imus’ controversial description of a women’s basketball team as “Nappy-headed hoes” as being taken out of context. Could you expand on that? Read More


Going Rogue in Rochester

November 30th, 2009 by


Confessions of Sarah Palin’s would-be Egger
By “Mr. Egg-thrower”

When you’re born you get a ticket to the freak show. When you’re born in America, you get a front row seat. –George Carlin

Last night I was arrested, handcuffed and placed in the back of a squad car for the first time. My crime: I threw an egg at Sarah Palin’s book signing in Rochester, NY. Why had I gone rogue? I shall explain.

November 21, 2009, 9:00 pm—I am drinking beer, processing low-grade champagne and relaxing with the wife. I am preparing to immerse myself in the sweetly escapist World of Warcraft. The local news is playing in the background, and I’m not paying it much attention. Soon, however, I hear the names Palin and Henrietta Borders. My heart jumps when reporters reveal that Sarah Palin is in Rochester, signing her putrescent drivel, just 10 minutes from my home! They show a smiling throng of Palin supporters lined up to meet Caribou Barbie herself. One woman is dressed as a lookalike of Palin: Imagine Tina Fey, only older and not quite right. The reporter interviews this doppelganger, who mutters something incoherent (I suppose she was “in character”) and they move on to cover the anti-Palin protest. A lone shot of a handful of shivering hippies is dismissed with several words from our intrepid reporter.

My mind races. The event is slotted from 6-9 pm. Will it go over time? What can I do, and will my actions actually mean something? I think back to earlier in the day, when I read an article about Palin’s most recent lie about health care reform. It seems that on top of having “death panels” to kill Grams, Comrade Obama wants to imprison real Americans who refuse to buy insurance. I would have shrugged this off as so much political bologna if I had not been pondering a report in the American Journal of Public Health (Vol. 99, No. 12). This Harvard study linked lack of health insurance to 44,789 deaths per year. That is to say, in the last year, fifteen times as many Americans died due to lack of health insurance as died in the September 11th attacks. To make matters worse, America has over 8 million uninsured children. I’ve been fuming over this for months, and today I see her lies gaining ground, right here, where I live. In my mind, her demagoguery aimed at blocking health care reform may lead to thousands of preventable deaths. Sometimes a lie is more dangerous than a bullet.

Now the internal debate begins: Why didn’t you, uninformed, crappy citizen, hear about this sooner? Go get dressed and move your ass to the protest…but it’s probably over and I should stay here warm with wife, beer and Warcraft… Gah! But what if Palin is still here? This is potentially a crucial moment. What kind of a man are you!? What would your ancestors think? My mind pans to what I remember of American history— American colonists assembling to throw snowballs at British soldiers, an event that led to the Boston Massacre. What if those people had been too lazy and comfortable to get out in the cold to raise some hell? We’d probably already have universal health care like Canada and Australia. And slavery would have ended much sooner. Things might not be that bad, actually. But if the likes of Palin and Glenn Beck can wrap their stupidity in patriotism, then so can I, dammit! I throw on some clothes, kiss the missus and reach for the nearest projectile weapon: a free-range, organic egg. Like some half-assed, disheveled minute man, “musket” in hand, I shoot out to my car and gallop down the road to Borders Books.

I park behind an Uno’s Pizza joint and make my way on foot. Hmm… no deluded zealots, and no patchouli-soaked hippies. Am I too late? I march past the door. The place is a wretched mess. Many people are milling about, but it seems like the end. There’s a news van outside and a woman appears to be giving an interview. I ask a clerk what happened here. “Sarah Palin” was her response. I ask if she’s gone. “Yes.” I’m only minutes late. My hand goes for the egg in my pocket. “I’m sorry I missed her,” I say. In one motion, the egg is out and I’m pitching it full force at a pyramid of Palin books. In slow motion I see the oblong, white missile fly true towards its mark. The egg loudly smashes into Palin’s grinning, idiot face, and chicken menses  splatters the entire pyramid.

The throng is silent. I scan the crowd with what I hope was a look of utter contempt. I turn and calmly walk away. About 20 yards out, I hear the clomping of feet. Three men are after me. “Hold on there!” one shouts. I stop. They identify themselves as police. I scan a badge and see that the cop is from some town out in the boonies. These were off-duty cops from Real America© who were volunteering to work crowd control. In fact, the place had been swarming with off-duty police.

After a short legal discussion about jurisdiction, local police are summoned. We wait in front of Borders. To their credit, my captors are gentlemen. Coming from the Bronx, I am prepared to be cursed and maybe roughed up a bit, but these are okay chaps. A reporter comes over to ask the coppers about the number of people attending the event and I draw his attention to the fact that I am being arrested for what I’m calling an act of patriotism. He shrugs and I see that the van reads “Fox News” on its side. Damn! He’s writing some nonsense about controlling the crowds and I tell him to put at the end, “one guy from the Bronx threw an egg.” He grins and humors me by scribbling something in his pad. I try to reach him with something impassioned, reminding him that people are suffering while Palin spreads insidious lies about health care. The comfortable, soft, pale, little fellow turns his back and walks away.

Next, a small herd of people gather around me. A black woman, whom I thought to be a reporter when I saw her in Borders, is front and center. Maybe she’ll take my story and turn this sad and ridiculous fiasco into something worthwhile. Wrong. Each of the crowd is holding Palin books, including my imagined African American savior. They are pissed Palin pals, and apparently, I’d gotten them with egg. The woman complains that she was up since 3 am for Sarah, and now she has to change her clothes. I receive multiple dirty looks and lectures. I graciously offer to pay their dry cleaning bills, but they represent the Party of No and predictably rebuff my generosity. I give them my reasons, and they warn me not to believe the “lame media” conspiracy against Sarah. To them, any facts are mere fabrications of a media conspiracy. We are no longer able to reason together, as they’ve discarded rational thought as a trapping of liberalism. I’m lucky Sarah’s not here, they vaguely threaten. I imagine a helicopter swooping out of the sky and a crazed, grinning Palin blasting me with a high-powered rifle, like so much helpless endangered wildlife.


Thankfully, officers from the county Sheriff arrive and the crowd disperses. I am cuffed, my belongings confiscated and I’m placed in the back of his squad car. The back of a squad car is very constricting and, I believe, designed to make you feel uncomfortable and under control. The funny thing is that I no longer care. Officers come to take info and we chat a bit. I give them my political spiel, and we chat about Rochester and my work here. They leave and I’m left to stew in the squad car. A station wagon sidles up, so that two old hags can judge me. I give them my million dollar smile and they drive away confused. The police officer returns and he gives me my medicine: I damaged over $800.00 worth of books and this is apparently serious. I think on it: forever to be branded as a criminal, possibly screwing up a hard-earned career, and all for something as trivial and pointless as defacing some books. I still don’t care. As ridiculous a gesture as hurling the egg was, I can still look at my face in the mirror with some degree of self-respect.

As it turns out, I am lucky not to have to face any legal consequences. The officer works it out with the Borders management so that I can pay for the damaged property and they’ll drop the charges. In tallying the cost of my deed, the policeman explains that in addition to most of the stock of Palin books, I also egged several copies of a biography by the late comedian George Carlin. This raises the event to the level of high comedy, and the kindly officer and I share quite a chuckle. I enter Borders, receive lectures from a manager about how Borders is “apolitical” and has a noble mission to “educate” the masses. She also lectures me on her disapproval of violence. Underneath it all, I think she is sympathetic, as she cuts me a 40% discount on the books and even smiles when I joke about not having a Borders Rewards card.

The final punishment comes from the Borders regional manager. I am now forbidden from all Borders stores and may be arrested if I enter one of their properties. The officer pats me on the back, saying “come on, Mr. Egg Thrower.” I leave the store broke, but not broken. We exchange a hearty handshake and I promise to continue promoting health care reform through legal channels. I drive home contemplating my front row seat in the freak show that I love and call home.




September 23rd, 2009 by

DPName: Death Panel

Turn-ons: Death, dying, refusing life-extending treatment based on productivity levels, Nazi Germany, Pol Pot

Turn-offs: Extraordinary measures, The Schiavos, retards and old folks.

How we got to be The BEAST PAGE 3 DEATH PANEL: Well, they’re calling us “end of life counseling,” but Death Panel just sounds so cool! And besides, old people are just so annoying, don’t you think? They smell funny. They clog up our highways and shopping centers. They’re afraid of Barack Obama. They make us talk on the phone when we’d rather be playing video games. They complain about everything. Honestly, aren’t you tired of them? I know I am. When the elderly are euthanized, America is youth-enized!

Future plans: Well, once the bill gets passed, I’ll be knocking off the elderly and feeble-minded like tin cans in a shooting gallery. Request denied motherfuckers!

How we’d like to be remembered: As the one thing Sarah Palin got right. Well, you know, sort of. Okay, there’s no such thing as a Death Panel. Still, it sounds pretty cool though, right?

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