Wednesday, March 24, 2004

All governments are lying cocksuckers

I agree with the late great Bill Hicks. All governments lie. That is what they do. Think about it. If you are part of a large mechanism that controls millions of peoples lives, then it is in your best interests to lie and manipulate them to your own advantage. It's not a hard concept to grasp even if you are hanging on the false premises indoctrinated into your brain by the American Educational system. I know that the whole point of our educational system is not to educate, but rather to assimilate, to prepare the masses for their role in whatever society they are in. So I can understand why people are reluctant to finally admit that the current administration and most politicians are lying bastard scum who use the power they wield for personal gain. It's okay. This goes against the core-ideas that have been innoculated into the average Americans brain by our educational system. We have been taught that America is the police-man of the world, that we always fight for what's right and...wait a minute, is that the "Rocky" theme-song I hear in the background? Well, the point is , we Americans have been trained to get a warm and fuzzy feeling whenever discussing the good ol' U.S.A. (thus the "Rocky" theme music...get it now?) and yet, most people cannot seem to understand that while the current administration/politicians does represent the U.S. (and poorly, I might add) they are ultimately human, and prone to errors. There seems to be a suspension of disbelief when it comes to the thinking of many Americans (or at least the good ol' Hoosiers around me) concerning the role and purpose of their government.

"So the government lied to manipulate the masses into believing that Iraq was an imminent threat to the safety of America? Well, at least we got Saddam out of power. I guess some good came out of it so they lied for a good reason. God bless America."-summary of logic I hear often.

Okay, this line of thinking is hilarious because it reminds me of a battered-spouse who is getting beaten by her husband, but she won't leave him or press charges because she claims that she loves him. There's some deep issues involved, no doubt, but the idea is that the husband has betrayed the trust of his wife and yet, for whatever reasons, she still stands by her man. Fellow citizens, we are that battered woman.

Now, I know I'm preaching to the choir here, because if you've read this far (or if you read this blog at all) then you obviously have a tolerance for reading and probably have a fairly good grasp on reality. I would imagine, if you read this stuff, then you're probably up on current events etc. This blog is more of a way for me to trick myself onto writing semi-regularly so if you get bored with this skip it. I don't care.
I'm trying to organize thoughts and issues in my head and try to make them seem coherent when I put them on paper. If not, thanks for coming. I'll try to be a good host. Now back to the rant...

Look, with the help of the internet, it's not hard to catch these sneaky fucks when they lie. So Don Rumsfeld and Condi Rice and others are making the rounds on the talk-shows claiming that they never claimed that Iraq was an imminent threat. When Donald Rumsfeld was on "Face the Nation" he was trying to make this point, but the hosts put up a quote from Rumsfeld that said:
"No terror state poses a greater or immediate threat to the security of our people and the stability of the world than the regime of Saddam Hussein in Iraq."-D.R. 9/18/02

So what's he do? Apologize right? Nah, he waffles a bit and tries to brush it aside.
That's what children do when they are caught in a lie. I know I tried it.

Same thing with this whole 9-11 investigation. This horrible tragedy has been turned into a blame-game, a high-stakes charade (to see who will be elected in November) where officials from the Clinton and Bush administration try and tell the American public that they did everything they could to prevent the attacks, but that darn Clinton/Bush administration tied our hands or didn't provide vital information blah blah blah blah blah. That's childish. These people are more concerned with laying the blame then they are figuring out how the attacks happened. 9-11 occured. It doesn't matter if it could have been prevented or whatever. It happened. You cannot change or dispute that fact.

See, we don't need people claiming that so-and-so dropped the ball, we need somebody to stand up and say, "you know what, we fucked up. We dropped the ball. It's not one person to blame, it's all of us. I love this country and the citizens so much that I will kill my political career to tell you what you do not want to hear: It's all of our faults. From the psychotic foreign-relations policy, to the injustices and atrocities committed in the name of "liberty, truth and justice for all" that no doubt led to these bastards turning an airplane into a missile, to the tremendous amount of responsibility that every citizen in this nation has when it comes to using democracy (which most don't) for the good of all humanity, we as Americans must admit that 9-11 was a wake-up call to our own greed and avarice, our own lack of concern for anyone but ourselves. Instead of using this horrible tragedy to attempt to unite people and focus on what really is important in this world, we dropped the ball and chose to use the event as an excuse to keep fucking over everyone in the world so that we as Americans, can live comfortably. We should all be ashamed of what we have done."
That is what should happen. Of couse, this won't happen because no one really wants to admit the truth. It's time to put his childish behavior aside, as it really just seems to drive people further apart when they should be coming together. These bastards don't really care about helping people (which is what all people should do) they care about power and how they can use it to their advantage.
I apologize if this sounds like hippie-drivel or flowery-liberal prose. I have an honest concern for humanity and it transcends political parties. It's not about who is right or wrong or which religion, political system, ethnicty, sexuality, or whatever you identify with. We are all humans and we have a responsiblity to each other that, for the large part, we ignore. If we continue to ignore this then we only have ourselves to blame for our own destruction.
Well, I'm gonna go drink my Peyote tea and go read "The Nation" and then I will go outside, pick daisies and get into a big philosphical debate about the merits of smoking cannibis while reading The Tibetan Book of the Dead to some girl who doesn't shave her legs. I just want to beat everyone to the punch cuz I know somebody out there is thinking it. Fuck it. As my uncle would say: "I'm an idealistic 24 year old who hasn't been crushed by the weight of modern life. Just wait. It will happen and then you will vote Republican." Well, until then:
Flower Power ya'll. I don't give a fuck. Out.

My Friendly Citizen Stories...

So, generally speaking, I'm an okay fellow. I'm polite to strangers, kind to animals, don't try and bone my friends girlfriends...I get by with no static basically. I try and live my life as drama-free as possible so I do the whole "treat others..." golden rule thing. It seems to work I guess. Anyway, I often have these little trials in my life where the values and morals I have worked out in my head get tested. Little situations where my inner-dialouge is like "Oh! Here's that opportunity to prove how strict you are with this moral code you've constructed." Like if some girl that I'm not attracted to suddenly starts tryin to get me in the sack, I know I won't be bonin' even though I got the sex life of a monk. I got standards goddammit. I just always try and do what seems right...not necessarily what feels good, but what seems right for me or others. So I'm either real secure with who I am or I'm a terrified mess with a mask of confidence. You decide.
Anyhoo, I remember my boy ODBeck tellin me that he always tried to pick up people when it looked like they ran outta gas on the interstate or wherever...just to help them out and be a good human. After I heard that i was like "yo, why don't I do that? Aiiight, next time I see someone I can help out i will." So i give my change to bums, hold the elevator door, help old ladies cross the street, blah blah blah. you know...

So one day I'm headin' to work, driving my vehicle down this alley from my apartment to the main street when I see an older (than me) gentleman workin on a lime-green back-in-the-day FORD of some sort. He's got this crazy old-man beard thats in the middle of turning grey and a worn out bootleg Tupac shirt from back in like '96 when Tupac was killed. One of those tribute shirts that flooded the market just after Tupacs death. Plus, he's got on a pair of red sweatpants and what appeared to be slippers. He kinda looked like he might've escaped a mental hospital cuz he even had a kind of jerky-ness to his movements. Whatever. The hood is up and he's all waving at me tryin to get my attention.
So I stop, roll my window down and I'm like "hey man what's up?" He asks me for a cigarette. I don't smoke, so then he asks me for a screwdriver so he can fix his truck. I'm like "yeah man, it's cool, lemme see if I got one." So I find the screwdriver and pass it to the guy, put my ride in PARK, and step out to help the man.
Then he starts pokin around under the hood:
"Do ya think if I tighten this up that'll tweak the exhaust?" he asks, pointing the screwdriver towards what I guess is the engine. It looked more a moon-shine distillery to me, but I don't know shit about cars or trucks so I'm like "yeah, I guess so." So he tightens up the screw and then he's like "mash on the gas man, let's see if we can get this thang runnin'"
So the next thing I know I'm behind the wheel of this dudes truck turnin the ignition and mashin on the gas pedal while he pours gasoline into the engine (or moonshine...whatever that old green weenie of a truck runs on...). It takes a few minutes but the next thing I know we got the truck on and running so I get out and he shakes my hand and thanks me. I'm like "cool, well man, i'm gonna head to work now, hope you make it to wherever your going..."
He cuts me off.
"Hey man, I'm gonna need to keep your screwdriver." He puts it in his pocket and looks me straight in the eyes. I'm like "aww man, your gonna take my screwdriver? That's the only one I have in the ride man? Come on." I reach my hand out. He steps back.
"Naw man I need this so I can make it home in case this thang breaks down again after I help Shirley out with this movin' thang she wants me to do." Now I have no idea who Shirley is or what the hell he's talkin about but he looked mighty serious, and his blood-shot eyes seemed to warm my heart, so I'm like:
"Ahhh fuck it, it's yours man, you can have it." But before I can turn around and get back in my car he's like "No no, I don't want to keep it, I just want to borrow it man...you got a pen and paper in your ride man?" I say yes and dig through the glove-box until I find a pen and an old bank receipt. Than, he spits off a volley of numbers at me like:
"Eightfivethreeonetwoeleven" and gives me a grin. I write it down and I'm like "uh, what is this?"
"Aw man that's my phone-number, you want my address too? It's..." and he rapidly fires off his street name, apartment number AND zip code before I can say no. Then he's like:
"My name's Paul Dee (not really his name-)man, you can come by my place and get your screwdriver."
He started to smile, and he stepped towards me again:
"man, you smoke?"
"Naw man, I don't have any cigarettes, plus I'm late for work an-'
"Naw naw naw man, I mean you smoke bud?" He smiled. No wonder his eyes were so bloodshot!
"Well, yeah" I said as I grabbed my beard and grabbed my long hair with my other free hand "these pretty much give me away huh?" He laughed and then did the universal-hittin'-a-joint gesture.
"Me too man, look i'll tell you what, I got the dodi...it's some two-hit-quit-shit. Gimmie a call sometime an'
I'll give you back your screwdriver an' get you blazed..remember, Paul Dee." Just then some lady in a car pulled up and he acted like he'd been waiting for her or something. I guess this was Shirley. They knew each other so I was like " Well, Paul, I'm out. I'll give you a call sometime." He gave me a wink and started talkin to the lady about movin' somethin with his truck. I got back in the ride and was 15 minutes late to work. Now that's how you start the day goddammit. I haven't called him yet, but I will.
The two-hit-quit-shit is not to be missed I think. More next post...
Cheers!

Friday, March 19, 2004

Some thoughts on Spain

Okay, so the talking point that has been adopted by a large portion of media regarding the recent Terrorist attacks and the elections in Spain seem to be this:
"The result of the terrorist bombing in Madrid was the election of a Socialist candidate. Terrorists can now influence elections. Obviously, the citizens of Spain feared more attacks due to Spain's participation in the "liberation" of Iraq, so they elected a candidate who promised to withdrawl Spanish troops from Iraq. In short, the citizens of Spain have been influenced by fear and this gives the terrorists validation."
Certainly an over-simplification but hell, this is a blog, not a thesis. My response to the above is thus:
BULLSHIT.
The real reason the citizens elected the Socialists Working Party is because Spanish citizens have the balls to do what we Americans cannot seem to do: they realized that their government was lying to them and as a result got rid of the lying bastards. They saw through the shallow attempt of Prime Minister Jose Maria Aznar trying to pin the attack on the Basque separatist group ETA. The citizens resented the obvious political manipulation of a tragedy for political purpose.
(For a good quick read on this go to http://www.washingtonpost.com/ac2/wp-dyn/A64633-2004Mar16?language=printer or I would suggest this link http://www.nytimes.com/2004/03/19/opinion/19KRUG.html?hp=&pagewanted=print&position= for my boy Paul Krugman, who's always got something intelligent to say.)

In fact, Krugman boiled down the real deal about the elections in Spain waaaay better than I could. He suggests that the Spanish were not intimidated by the terrorists, they just "turned on a ruling party they didn't trust." Most of the citizens didn't want to be involved in the Iraq invasion (remember all those protests? Probably not if your the average American) and yet the government sent troops anyway. Later in his essay, Krugman correctly summarizes the situation (and I apologize for the appropriation Mr. Krugman):

"When the government rushed to blame the wrong people for the attack, tried to suppress growing evidence to the contrary and used its control over state television and radio both to push its false accusation and to play down antigovernment protests, it reminded people of the broader lies about the war.

By voting for a new government, in other words, the Spaniards were enforcing the accountability that is the essence of democracy. But in the world according to Mr. Bush's supporters, anyone who demands accountability is on the side of the evildoers. According to Dennis Hastert, the speaker of the House, the Spanish people "had a huge terrorist attack within their country and they chose to change their government and to, in a sense, appease terrorists."

So there you have it. A country's ruling party leads the nation into a war fought on false pretenses, fails to protect the nation from terrorists and engages in a cover-up when a terrorist attack does occur. But its electoral defeat isn't democracy at work; it's a victory for the terrorists."
Or at least, in refrence to the last paragraph, that's what the scum want you to believe.
Part of me wants to go "Yeah Bush, better learn a lesson here, cuz your ass is outta here in November" but the cynical part of me is going "Expect the 'capture' of Usama Bin Laden before November and the 'official' election of Bush Jr."
Lord, I hope the adage "like father like son" applies to the reelection bids of the Bushs.
Excelsior!

Saturday, March 13, 2004

Yes, I am a nerd...

and i read waay too much, which is probably why I'm such an opinionated fellow. Reading, to me, is the most consistent thing I have enjoyed in my life (besides sleep). If reading was crack I'd be Tyrone Biggums from the Dave Chappelle show. That said, I gotta give props to some of my favorite dealers.
I'm a news-hound too and here's some journalists that I love reading:
Helen Thomas-best White House reporter ever. The methusela of the press-corps(e).
Jimmy Breslin-you've seen him in "Son of Sam" but have you read his words? He's with Newsday. Peep it.
(On a side note, these two make me think that perhaps their generation was the greatest as Tom Brokaw seems to think.)
Matt Taibbi-I wish I could write like him. Kind of similar to Hunter S. Thomson as far as writing style and just as intelligent (and I like hunter S. Thomspon, so that's not a diss by any means).
and though not an author- I jest looove reading the WhiteHouse.gov Pressreleases w/Scott Mcsomething as Bush's latest stooge (Ari 2.0). A smorgasboard of fuel for my cynical mind.
Too bad I didn't provide any links though. Once I figure it out, perhaps I shall.
Until then, google these folks, read and enjoy.
I'm out.
"Bazooka Tooth BABY!"-favorite moment from Aesop Rock's last album. Yell it from your roof as loud as possible. Your neighbors will thank you later.

Friday, March 12, 2004

Kanye West cracks me up...

So I'm over at notes from a different kitchen (http://differentkitchen.blogspot.com)
and he's writing about how Kanye West was on Hot 97 talkin' about how he wanted to start a petition telling the Source to grant him 5 mics instead of the 4 1/2 it gave him. He, no doubt, thinks "College Dropout" is in the same class as "De La Soul is Dead" and "Amerikkkas Most Wanted." Hmmm...
I agree with the author of differentkitchen when he/she says: Who cares?
It's not like the Source reviews are valid anymore. That rag sucks and has sucked for years. I once had a subscription but that only lasted for a year because after about 2 issues I realized that the magazine was pretty wack. Damn. And to think my money went to Benzino. ACK! Never again!
But back to Kanye...
Now, I must admit, I don't really see what the big deal about Kanye West is. I mean, if you've never heard a sped-up-soul-record-sample then I can see where it might blow yer lid, but damn...remember the RZA's production???
"Through the Wire" never really caught my ear except for the Chaka Kahn sample (but what the hell is she saying besides "through the wire"). And yes, I know that dude recorded his vocals with his mouth wired shut, but that doesn't mean I gotta go, "well those lyrics are pretty lame but I'll give him credit cuz he was rappin through the wire." PSHHHHT!
Same thing with 50 cent...just cuz the dude got shot 9 times doesn't mean that he can't open his mouth when he raps. Enunciate Motherfuckah!!!
If I'm listening to your words i want you to communicate a thought to me clearly...I don't give props to emcees who mumble.
I do think Kanye has a good ear as far as his compositions go, but after reading an interview on www.sohh.com I kinda wish he would just shut up and let his music speak for him. Check this:
"Anybody who gives my album less than a perfect score is lowering the integrity of their own magazine. So either be a part of history or become it."
HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HAAAAAAAAAAAA!
Dude is either mad full of himself, or he knows exactly what he's doing and playing the press like an MPC. Either way, I won't be checking for him as his beats don't really do much for me. They sound nice, but I like different stuff. Plus, I think he's really about as good as Diamond D on the mic.
On and on like popcorn...but you won't catch me quotin' Kanye.
Personally, I just woke up and realized the genius of KMD's "Mr. Hood" so I'm in a more boom-bap mood I guess. I do wish Kanye success though (well, more success at least) as I would much rather hear him on my radio and my roommates television than Lil' John.
OKAYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYY?

Another Post

Blogger what is up with you? You publish my posts 2-3 times and then when I try and delete one of the double or triple posts it deletes the whole damn thing.
I don't get it. Of course, I guess I get what I pay for, which is nothing. Anyone got any tips on this?

Monday, March 08, 2004

In case you care, here's what I think:

So The Passion of Christ is the number one movie. Even my mom is like "So are you gonna see the Passion?"
Three words: FUCK THAT SHIT
And so it came to pass that in the 24th year of his existence, chiseven must again avoid being shamed into believing in Jesus Christ by the population around him. Look, I know that most people in this country are keen on Jesus and call themselves Christian but isn't this whole thing a little pornographic? Isn't seeing all the pain and suffering of Christ as the blood shoots everywhere kinda like a big gooey money-shot in a porn? Isn't watching someone writhe in agony or writhe in ecstasy just about the same thing for the viewer? Either way, the direct result is a tingly feeling in the back of the viewers head:

Porn-watcher: "Damn! He just shot it in her eye! Wish I could do that!" (Endorphins start to flow...a warm tingly feeling rushes over the body...internal monologue starts up: "maybe you should be having some sex right now. Orgasm=pleasure. Must-seek-pleasure.")
Passion-watcher: "Damn!(Sorry Lord.) J.C. suffered so much so that he could save me and the rest of humanity. What a sacrifice...how touching. This movie makes me feel really glad that I believe in J.C." (Endorphins start to flow...a warm tingly feeling rushes over the body...internal monologue starts up: "maybe you should be telling other people who aren't saved how good it feels to be saved. Sense of satisfaction derived from an external source confirms pre-conceived notions. Religion=pleasure, which =satisfaction on a larger scale. Must-inform-others-of-this-pleasure.")

Hmmm. Does that make sense? It does to me, but I guess I've rationalized it internally. Oh hell, it's my opinion and I don't care if anyone agrees or not.
Oh yeah, and don't think I'm all badmouthing religion or Christians (well, I guess I kinda am...hee hee) I mean, I think religion is good for some people. Not for me though. It's cool if you are a Christian but dammit, don't try and shame me into believing in your favorite character in a book. I mean, the words of J.C. are ill. What's that line about a camel having an easier time going through the eye of a needle than a rich man entering heaven? That shit's nice. See, I like J.C. as a character. He's like the Huey P. Newton of the bible. Oh, that and he is the ORIGINAL socialist. I guess my main beef with Christianity isn't the religion or the message but just the mentality of MOST people that claim to be Christian. It's like, "Motherfucker, do you even know what the guy who you think is gonna save you is even talkin about?"
Most Christians I know act like Christianity is a basketball team. Like when their favorite basketball team wins and they are all like "We Won!" when they didn't do shit but watch. It's not like most of Christians I know are really livin' by the word of Christ...they just believe in J.C. and that's that. They aren't actually gonna give spare change to that bum or realize that they are participating in an economic system that mocks the core beliefs of their religion. They just want to feel good because they are part of a larger whole...something that gives them a sense of purpose without demanding too much of a commitment.
Of course, there are people who are sincere Christians and live their life based on the religion and that's cool. I'm not talking about them...these people are beyond my judgment. But you hypocrites should feel my wrath. And then, get the balls.
Oh and one more thing, this whole deal about who killed Christ?
WHO CARES?
If you are a Christian you should realize that the whole point of J.C. was for him to die.
If Christ is not crucified then the religion is void. The whole point was him dying to save the rest of humanity. He was a martyr. He did what martyr's do. They die. Be happy for this.
If you are not a Christian then you won't care who killed Christ.
As a young Harvey Pekar says at the beginning of American Splendor:
"Why does everyone have to be so stupid?"
Out.

Saturday, March 06, 2004

I dont know what's up with the double post...but it's WACK.

Deleting the incorrect entry will not work. Damn you blogger! Work!!!
Sorry about that...
No update tonight...goin to a house-party to see some cats perform some raps.
It's on like Donkey-Kong ya'll.

It's been a long time since I left you...

Awwwww snap!

Life has been a little to hectic to document regularly but fuck it...I'll do some bloggin on the company clock.
Shit. Time to finally get paid for this exquisite command of the English language I demonstrate occasionally. Yes Yes Yes. Spent some time at this bar last night celebratin my boy's (not my son tho-gotta know the vernacular ya'll) birthday at this place called the Alley Cat. Twas a good time I suppose.
I got to see some dudes I went to high-school with that are in a band (In fact, it's www.shadeland.net). We sat in the same room for a few hours before they noticed me. One dude was reeeeal drunk but hey, that's how we Shelby County types do. We start off on the Budweiser etc. and then move on to the powerful stuff like slow-sippin' whisky. Except me. I'm too much of a puss for that nasty liquor. Strong Island Ice Tea though? Betta line em up cuz I'm down to drink those. Course I gotta watch that shit cuz if I have too many I'll be speakin my own language (sexology for those that care) like last Sunday night.
Here's a sample:
Me:(arm around this girl I know) Awww girl, lemme tell ya somethin'...bobbada gleeklatoodical dis sleppa deppa! A heh heh heh.
To appreciate this say my lines in a high-pitched voice (think Curtis Mayfield) and then laugh like the dirtiest old man you have ever heard. That's it. Sexology. Brilliant stuff I think...or at least entertainment at my expense for my friends. But only close friends...I don't get THAT faded very often.
Anyway.
So this Alley Cat bar WAS one of my favorite places to go because it seems that the Broad Ripple bar scene is the embodiment of everything I hated about High-School...Cliques, shitty music, buncha meat-heads and chicken-heads runnin around tryin to get laid while a Dave Matthews song plays in the background. EEEEECH. Bad news indeed. But the Alley Cat was dear to my blackened little heart because it was a grimy little bar where REAL seasoned alcoholics, long-haired men, punk-rockers and everyone else inbetween was/is welcome to drink they're wonderfully priced beverages in a smoke-filled, loud-heavy-metal-playin' environment. Plus, it's just a little cleaner than your average college-basement-house-party.
And it has a buncha pool tables tables and chairs so you can occupy yourself with other things than just hittin on girls or boys or whatever yer into. Plus heavy-metal on the jukebox. Scream along to Pantera!
In my mind, damn near perfect.
Well, that shit is now tainted.
All I know is when I walked in they were playin TLC's "What about your friends" or whatever that shite is.
Man, I knew that was wack when I was like 12 or 13 and I know it's still wack 10-12 years later.
(SCRATCH NOISE): Wikka-wick-wick-WACK!
Plus they cut holes in the walls and opened up the pool room (Well, this is actually a good thing-that place was pretty congested and awkward when it fills up...but I digress). AND, it seemed to me like there was a heavy concentration of chumps all singing along to that "Take on Me" song from the 80's.
It's kinda freaky when yer in a room full of white people yelling
TAAAAAAAAAAAAKKKKKKEEEE
ONNNNNNNNNN
MEEEEEEEEEEEEE (and then others are doing the call and response thing..."take on me!")
So that sucks but the worst is when dude hits the high-note that no-one else can hit:
"blah blah blah...WhooooooooOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO-(at this point the pitch is hurting any dogs within a 2 mile radius...yep, that screeching high level...unbearable)."
Oh well. I bitch about it now but I know I'll be back. It's better than some bar where they tell you to tuck in your shirt or take off your hat or name the best Nelly song before they'll let you in to go hang out with a buncha preppie bitches (this classification extends to both sexes in my experiences with these bars), so whatever....I just miss the old dingy, grimy, awkwardness of the bar. Plus I might be pissed cuz I saw a dude with a HUGE beard that puts mine to shame and even has me contemplating a little scissor-and-razor action. Oh no!
I hope not, but I think it may be: ALLEY CAT R.I.P.
Welp that's it for now...I have wasted enough time at work and the day is done.
Out.
Goin' home to get blazed. I'll update this later on with a real sense of purpose and not just random rants.

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