Lynton Cox’s “What The Dickens?” Part 5.3

Is It Finished Yet? My Eyeballs Are Melting!

Is It Finished Yet? My Eyeballs Are Melting!

Episode 5, part 3 (I do hope you are bearing with me.)

The apparition gave the tearful, sobbing Cox no time to gather any argument and once again they took off into the blackness and the tableau below faded away. This time thankfully no demons assailed them and after a short time they alighted at a large wrought iron double gate with two stone pillars set in a high wall overgrown with ivy. It was still night but the whole scene was thrown in stark, eerie shadow by the glimmer of a gas light. The the gate creaked and clanked open and the spectre led Cox along a narrow gravel path. It had started snowing but a mist was hanging low on the ground and swirling as they moved through it. The spectre stopped and pointed and Cox looked at it questioningly.

“Move yah fuckin’ ass! We ain’t got all damned night! Go take a lookee see, I ain’t a pointin’ fer the fun of it asshole!”

Cox moved towards where the bony finger pointed and he saw protruding up through the mist and snow a stone, a headstone, of the cheapest kind. He brushed away the accumulating snow and what he saw froze his very heart.

Ebenezer Cox, born 1820, died….. it was the very next year.

“Yup Coxy it comes to us all sho nuff. Oh yeah, we all thinks we’s gonna live forever, ‘ticularly when we’s young. We push it ter the back of the mind until we cain’t help but think about it. But there you lie Ebenezer Cox like the rest round here. No epitaph, no “beloved father and brother, uncle”, o’ shit like that. Jest another victim of naichur, the eternal war. Did yah think yah’d have anythang else? Some eternal legacy? Look at me. Ah’m no different to anyone else. Ah lived mah life an’ ah done things that ah shouldn’t an ifn those hoody bastards round that table are right, then ah’s well weighed-down with sin jest like you. Within a few generations even those who have epitaphs, big tombstones an’ shit, gits fergotten an nobody brings ’em flowers anymore. Ifn nobody don’t remember them fer the good they did d’yah think anybody’ll remember their sins?”

“B..b..but surely people do good things in their lives sometimes? Does nothing count?” Asked Cox.

The apparition grabbed his hand abruptly and they were off again over the rooftops and shortly they found themselves in a large room full of people. They alighted next to a couple of old crones knitting and gossiping; One said to the other,

“They say ‘e laid there weeks afore anyone found him poor ole bugger”

Her companion replied nodding her head.

“Doesn’t surprise me, ‘e wuz such a miserable old git nobody went near the place, not even the neighbours, till they smelt something funny that didn’t smell of curry and didn’t go away by the mornin’ an’ then called a policeman. They say they found ‘im in ‘is bed strangled by his own nose hair. Curled right round ‘is neck it was and went down to ‘is feet it did! Crawlin’ wiv maggots the place was”

Another voice shouted from a dais at the front of the room

“Ladies and gentlemen! Welcome to Snuffit, Clearit and Floggit Auctioneers. Today we have a mixed sale of effects from the, ahem, “estate” of the late Mr. Ebenezer Cox, gentleman of this parish.

Jeers and laughter went up from the room and shouts of “Gennelman?” and “Bloody hateful ole skinflint!” rang out along with boos and hisses.

Cox mumbled forlornly,

“Did nobody like me at all?”

“DID YOU DO ANYTHING TO MAKE ANYBODY LIKE YOU?”

“Now, now, ladies and gentlemen, let us ‘ave a little respect for the er sadl… er .. dearl…. The deceased… purlease!”

Said the auctioneer, bringing the room to order with his gavel, rather too peremptorily, for Cox’s comfort

“We have some, er, um, yes, very interesting lots today ladies and gentlemen. I’d like particularly to DRAW your attention to a lovely set of bed curtains, real moleskin they are, as good as new. Would do someone a good turn those; could make several pairs of lovely fashionable trousers those or a few nice gentleman’s waistcoats.

Groans from the crowd greeted the feeble pun.

“We have also an interesting and rare example of taxidermy; an Owl. Nearly new it seems since one can still smell the mysterious oriental spices used to embalm it. One never quite knows with people what their private hobbies and interests are and Mr Cox seems to have been a dark horse in that department. Quite what it was doing on the ground outside Mr. Cox’s house is a puzzle but, it has nevertheless not suffered at all from the recent snow and would fittingly grace any cabinet of curiosities.

As would likewise this box of er, what looks like coarse ginger hair but, which we have on good authority from the local museum, is genuine Mammoth hair, a very rare item indeed and for which we already have substantial interest and an absentee bid placed by Madame Bitters of the The John of Gaunt public house. A bid, may I say, so impressively high, that anyone who wants it will… and I am giving nothing away here, will indeed have to go it some today to beat her obvious palaeontological passion to possess it.

There are many more items of interest, boxes of assorted slightly stained underwear, gentleman’s hose, a walking cane and stand (the dead mouse comes free by the way), a gold half-hunter watch, etcetera, etcetera, so without further ado, ladies and gentlemen, let us pass to lot numb……”

The scene faded as Cox and the spectre once more shot away into the darkness and they found themselves hovering in the void

“Is this what it all comes down to in the end?”

Bemoaned Cox in a low sorry voice, bitterly shaking his bowed head

“What the hell d’yah think happens when you croak asshole? Where ah come from there are hundreds of charity shops with shelves lined with the books, trinkets and ornaments that belonged ter dead little old ladies an’ men who led blameless, downright evil or somewhere-in-between lives. Ev’thing that they didn’t go to the grave wearin’ is hung up in public view fer sale there. Ever’thin, that is,what their money-grabbin’ relatives didn’t care ’bout an’ others’ll pay good money fer. It all ends up in another charity shop or yard sale when the new owners ‘ventually die an’ so on forever or till each sad l’il trinket smashes or piece o duds wears out an’ in the end not even the least invisible trace of the memory of the lovin’ touch of someone’s skin on cotton or admiring hand on porcelain remains.

“It’s so sad so so so sad”

Cox whispered forlornly.

“I REALLY DO NOT KNOW WHAT PEOPLE ARE THINKING!

ALL THIS RUBBISH ABOUT POSTERITY! FOR GOODNESS SAKE! DO THEY THINK WE’LL EVEN GET NEAR APPEARING IN SOME FUTURE FOSSIL RECORD?

DON’T THEY KNOW THAT ONLY VERY FEW GET REMEMBERED AT ALL FOR ANYTHING REALLY GOOD OR BAD THEY DID?

EVEN THEN NOBODY KNOWS WHAT THE OUTCOME MIGHT BE OF ANY OF THEIR ACTIONS!

GOODNESS KNOWS, DESPITE THE ABE LINCOLNS AND WINSTON CHURCHILLS AND ALL THOSE OTHER SO-CALLED HEROS OF ONE THING AND ANOTHER IN HISTORY THAT WE RAISE UP AS GIANTS IN STONE ON PLINTHS, MY WORLD OF CHRISTMAS YET TO COME STILL FINDS ITSELF IN A SORRY MESS REGARDLESS OF THEIR GREAT VICTORIES AND ACHIEVEMENTS OF THE PAST!

“You mean I’m right about all those bloody politicians and celebrities and stuff? That my ideas and philosophy are right?”

Cox interrupted mocking and rather gleefully surprised, but the spectre cut him off

“RIGHT! RIGHT? WHO KNOWS WHAT IS RIGHT?

ALL WE KNOW IS WE FIND OURSELVES HERE WITH NO IDEA OF HOW WE GOT HERE OR HOW IT WILL ALL END.

WE THINK THERE MUST BE SOME PURPOSE TO THINGS. BUT WHAT IS THE PURPOSE, IF THERE IS ONE, OF A BUTTON OR A BEGONIA OR A BEETLE IN THE GREATER SCHEME OF THINGS, IF, AGAIN, THERE INDEED SUCH A SCHEME?

FOR ALL WE KNOW, THE IDEA OF MEANING OR PURPOSE MIGHT BE JUST SOMETHING THAT EMERGES ACCIDENTALLY FROM THE MESS OF CHEMICALS THAT WE ARE MADE OF.

THE WAY OUR BRAINS DEAL WITH THOSE THINGS WE CANNOT KNOW.

JUST LIKE WHEN THERE IS DEAD SILENCE WE THINK WE HEAR THINGS.

OR WHEN IT IS DARK WE SEE FLASHES OF LIGHT THAT AREN’T REALLY THERE.

OUR EYES AND EARS CAN’T COPE WITH NOT DOING THE JOB THEY ARE EVOLVED TO DO AND SO “INVENT” THINGS FOR COMFORT BECAUSE THEY CAN’T SEE OR HEAR ANYTHING. THEY JUST AREN’T MADE TO BE IDLE.

WITH THOSE THINGS WE CAN’T KNOW, IT IS THE SAME BECAUSE OUR BRAINS ARE SUPPOSED TO BE ABLE TO SOLVE PROBLEMS RATIONALLY AND FIND THE HOW OF THINGS. TO WORK OUT PURPOSEFUL ACTION TO ACHIEVE GOALS.

WE THUS IMAGINE THERE IS PURPOSE BECAUSE WE ARE HARD-WIRED TO LOOK FOR CAUSES AND EFFECTS.

BUT PURPOSE IS THE WHY OF THINGS THE GOAL OF AN ACTION.

HOW DID EVERYTHING START? WHERE WILL IT END? WHAT IS THE PURPOSE , WHY ARE WE HERE? WHY IS THERE SOMETHING AND NOT NOTHING?

WE CANNOT COPE WITH UNKNOWABLES – IMPONDERABLES.

JUST LIKE THE ANCIENTS DID FOR THOSE THINGS THEY COULD NOT CONTROL LIKE DISEASE, THE WEATHER, NIGHT AND DAY, OTHER NATURAL PHENOMENA.

THEY IMAGINED THAT THERE WERE UNSEEN GODS THAT DID CONTROL THEM

BECAUSE THEY THOUGHT THAT SINCE HUMANS CAN CONTROL SOME THINGS BY APPLYING PURPOSEFUL ACTION THEN THERE MUST BE OTHERS, SO AGENCY MORE POWERFUL, WHO CONTROLLED ALL THOSE THINGS THEY COULDN’T AND TO THE SOLE PURPOSE OF CAUSING HUMAN FEAR AND SUFFERING.

THEY COULD NOT IMAGINE ACTION WITHOUT PURPOSE. THEY FEARED HAVING NO CONTROL. AND THOSE WHO DID CONTROL WHAT THEY COULD NOT MUST BE FEARFULLY POWERFUL

THEY IMAGINED GODS WHO WERE DISPLEASED WHEN NATURAL FORCES WERE UNLEASHED UPON THEM. THEY THOUGH THEY NEEDED TO APPEASE THEM. SO THEY BUILT EFFIGIES AND TEMPLES AND MADE SACRIFICES TO THEM IN THAT HOPE.

IT DID NOT ALWAYS WORK OF COURSE BUT IT WAS ENCOURAGED BY THE PRIESTS BECAUSE IT GAVE THEM POWER OVER PEOPLE

IT’S THE SAME WITH THE GODS OF TODAY. WE APPEASE THEM BY DOING WHAT WE THINK THEY WANT OR WHAT THEIR PRIESTS TELL US THEY WANT.

AND SOME OF US EVEN STILL LIVE IN FEAR BECAUSE OF IT.

SOME MAY WELL INVENT RELIGIONS AND BELIEF SYSTEMS TO PROTECT THEMSELVES BUT THEY AREN’T PROTECTING THEMSELVES FROM THE WRATH OF SOME ANGRY GOD;

JUST FROM FEAR OF THE IDEA THAT THERE MIGHT BE NO PURPOSE TO ANYTHING. NO REASON. NO LIGHT AT THE END OF THAT TUNNEL OF THE NEAR-DEATH EXPERIENCE. THE COMFORT THAT, DESPITE ALL THE BAD THAT HAPPENS, THERE IS A PURPOSE TO OUR BEING AND OUR SUFFERING AND THAT THERE WILL COME A TIME THAT WE WILL FINALLY UNDERSTAND WHAT THAT PURPOSE IS.

FOR IF THERE IS NO PURPOSE WHAT OTHER REASON IS THERE TO CONTINUE TO EXIST?

WHY CARRY ON IN THE FACE OF ALL THE PAIN THAT THIS MESS OF CHEMICALS THAT WE ARE ALSO INFLICTS UPON US IN OUR INTEREACTIONS WITH THE WORLD AND OTHERS AROUND US?

ARE WE REALLY JUST THE PRODUCT OF NATURE? THE ECONOMY OF WHICH MANY WOULD VAUNT AS ULTIMATE AND EXQUISITE, WITHOUT WASTE. OR ARE WE THE PRODUCT OF A DIVINE MIND THAT PUT US HERE FOR SOME MYSTERIOUS REASON ONLY IT KNOWS?

WHICH OF TWO SUCH ALTERNATIVE GREAT FORCES COULD HAVE SEEN FIT TO PRODUCE AS AN ABSOLUTE AND NECESSARY PART OF ITS UNFOLDING UNIVERSE; ITS GRAND EXPERIMENT, A SPECIES THAT REQUIRES SO MUCH SUPERFLUOUS TINSEL IN ITS LIFE SUCH AS DEVICES FOR TAKING SPIDERS OUT OF BATHTUBS, JUST TO ELIMINATE MINIMAL SUFFERING TO ITSELF AND ITS FELLOW BEASTS?

IS IT HUMANS THAT ARE GOOD OR NATURE OR GOD?
I DO NOT KNOW, BUT IF IT IS NATURE THEN WE ARE DOOMED ALREADY.

IF IT WAS GOD, HE REALLY HAS A STRANGE SENSE OF HUMOUR AND IS NOT VERY NICE AT ALL.

IF IT WAS MAN THEN PERHAPS THERE IS SOME HOPE AT LEAST SINCE, OF THE THREE, ONLY WE POSSESS THE POWER TO CHANGE THE AMOUNT OF HAPPINESS IN THE WORLD.

BUT WHAT IS HAPPINESS?

Cox was listening intently, warming to this argument since it made him feel far less guilty than he had been up till then;

“So can I be criticised for behaving as I do, bad or good, if it doesn’t matter? How could people tell whether in some so-called “morality tale” about me behaving as I have it gives them some positive direction in which to point themselves in the labyrinth of their lives if it’s all pointless? If self-gratification is the major thing in our lives then why not pursue it good or bad?”

“I AM AFRAID I AM REALLY NOT SURE I HAVE AN EXACT ANSWER TO THAT. BUT THROUGH TIME, IN THE AFFAIRS OF MEN THERE HAS BEEN A NEED FOR ORDER WHEREVER THERE IS MORE THAN ONE PERSON AND PERHAPS EVEN WITHIN US ALL ORDER IS REQUIRED.

WHAT HOPE MIGHT THERE HAVE BEEN FOR THE HUMAN RACE HAD THE FIRST MAN AND WOMAN SEEN FIT TO SATISFY EACH THEIR OWN SELFISH GRATIFICATION BY JUST BEATING EACH OTHER OVER THE HEAD?

TO SEEK NO COMPROMISE? TO COOPERATE?

THAT IS REALLY ALL ONE CAN SAY. WE NEED SOME RULES AND VALUES. SOME ORDER TO RUB ALONG WITH EACH OTHER.

WE MUST IMPOSE ORDER ON EACH OTHER AND ALSO UPON OURSELVES

HOW CULTURES HAVE SOUGHT THIS DIFFERS. IN SOME DISORDER MAY HAVE PROVED DETRIMENTAL AND THUS THEY EVOLVED TO BE ORDERED, BUT, ORDER WE NEED AND MUCH MORE THAN WE HAVE CURRENTLY JUST TO PREVENT OUR OWN PROFLIGACY.

WHAT YOU HAVE DONE IN LIFE EBENEZER COX MAY BE FROWNED UPON BY SOME OR INDEED LAUDED BY OTHERS OF A MORE RUTHLESS BENT; BUT IS IT BAD? CAN ANYONE REALLY SAY WITHOUT SOME SORT OF FRAMEWORK OF ORDER?

YOU HAVE NOT ACTUALLY BROKEN ANY SECULAR LAW. BUT THERE ARE SOME WHO WOULD SAY YOU HAVE BROKEN SOME INNATE UNIVERSAL MORAL RULE ”

“Bloody hell man you’re making no sense! Is it good to be good? or good to be bad? or bad to be good? or bad to be bad dammit?”

“I SEE YOUR MORAL COMPASS HAS BEEN PUT SOMEWHAT IN GIRATORY MODE BY THE LODESTONE OF SUCH PHILOSOPHY.

BUT AGAIN I REALLY DO NOT HAVE ANY ANSWERS FOR YOU.

IF WE AGREE THAT THERE ARE SUCH THINGS AS GOOD AND BAD AND RIGHT AND WRONG AND THAT THESE ARE STATES OF MIND GOVERNED BY THE CHEMICAL SOUP THAT FORMS US.

THEN, SINCE THESE CHEMICAL REACTIONS ARE GOVERNED BY UNIVERSAL PHYSICAL LAWS THERE MUST LOGICALLY EXIST A STATE OF MIND THAT WILL LEAD TO GETTING THE RIGHT ANSWER FOR ANY MORAL QUESTION.

BUT HOW WORSE THAT STATE OF MIND, HOW ABNORMAL, IS THAT STATE OF MIND THAT LEADS TO THE “WRONG” ANSWER THAN THE ONE THAT LEADS TO THE “RIGHT” ONE?

I HAVE NO IDEA. AND IF WE EVER FIND OUT, WHO IS TO BE THE JUDGE OF WHAT BRINGS GREATEST BENEFIT OR HAPPINESS TO THE GREATEST NUMBER?

DOING THE RIGHT THING MORALLY SHOULD ALWAYS BRING MOST HAPPINESS TO THE MOST PEOPLE

EVEN SO, SOME WILL STILL INEVITABLY SUFFER AS A RESULT OF OTHERS’ FINDING HAPPINESS. SUCH THAT THOSE WHO END UP SUFFERING, EVEN IF MINORITY WILL FOMENT DISCONTENT AND CONFLICT.

CONSIDERING ALL THE POSSIBLE CONSEQUENCES THAT MIGHT FOLLOW AN ACT “GOOD” OR “BAD”, CAN WE REALLY SAY WHAT THE FINAL OUTCOME OF ANY ACT WILL BE?

IT IS ALL CONTINGENT, LIKE THE REASONS WHY THE BOY TIM DIED.

OSTENSIBLY BAD ACTS LIKE KILLING IN WARS CAN POSSIBLY HAVE GOOD CONSEQUENCES AND VICE VERSA.

FOR INSTANCE IF YOU GIVE A BEGGAR MONEY WHO THEN GOES AND GETS DRUNK AND KILLS SOMEBODY. THAT WAS NOT YOUR INTENTION ONE PRESUMES.

SO CAN ANYTHING BE GOOD OR BAD OR RIGHT OR WRONG THEN?

IT SEEMS WE HAVE A GREAT DEAL OF SKILL AT AVOIDING SUCH DIFFICULT ABSOLUTES.

WE HAVE TO, OTHERWISE PEOPLE WOULD BE AT EACH OTHER’S THROATS ALL THE TIME FIGHTING OVER SOMETHING OR OTHER.

WHY DO WE CONSIDER IT A CRIMINAL ACT IN OUR OWN COUNTRY TO FORCIBLY HOLD DOWN A LITTLE GIRL OR BOY AND MUTILATE THEIR GENITALS, YET IN A COUNTRY FAR AWAY WHERE IT IS PRACTISED BY MILLIONS WE FOB IT OFF AS “CULTURE” OR “RELIGION” AND THUS NOT INTERVENE AGAINST IT AS BARBARITY AND MORALLY WRONG?

SHOULD DISTANCE FROM US MAKE AN ACT LESS WRONG?

IT SEEMS THAT THROUGH HISTORY WE HAVE SPLIT INTO GROUPS THAT HAVE DIFFERENT VALUES AND WHERE SOMETIMES THOSE VALUES DIFFER GREATLY.

WE HAVE NO PROBLEM IGNORING SUCH RELATIVE VALUES HOWEVER DIFFERENT AS LONG AS THET REMAIN WITHIN THE FRONTIERS OF SUCH GROUPS.

IN THE END WE HAVE TO COMPARE SUCH GROUPS AND SEE WHICH VALUES HAVE LEAD TO THE MOST HAPPINESS FOR THE MOST PEOPLE AND COME TO CONCLUSIONS ABOUT WHERE WE SHOULD BE GOING.

ALL I CAN SAY THERE IS I WISH YOU MUCH LUCK!

SO PERHAPS WE SHOULD THANK EITHER SOME GOD OR OUR SOCIAL EVOLUTION FOR POLITICIANS AND PEACEMAKERS WHO HAVE TO DEAL WITH SUCH DIFFERENCES BETWEEN GROUPS. AND ASK OURSELVES IS IT ANY WONDER THEY SEEK NEVER TO BE ACCOUNTABLE FOR THE DECISIONS THEY HAVE TO MAKE?”

The voice changed.

“’An don’t you go thinking that ah’s goin’ soft neither. Not Francois J. Delamare Abraham, Jefferson, Jackson, Jordan III! Ass hole! Right ‘an wrong good ‘an bad don’t need no goddam Almighty, they’s jest as easy come by with secular ethical philosophy than bah some stoopid idea that they’s dictitated bah some invisible sooperior fuckin’ bein’ that y’all should be afeared of. An evolution don’t have shit ter do with it neither. Don’t forgit neither that them Bible-bashin’ “true believers” reckons you can sin even in thought an’ it ain’t no coincidence that in mah time we’s fought many a war agin countries wi’ governments who tried ter stop their people a thinkin’; an’ those that did think they stuck away in mental institooshuns for it. At he same time all those who think we should all become some world-wide lovey-dovey community all a doin’ o’ the same things an’ havin’ the same values is gonna have a helluva war on there hands!

Obviously thoughtful, Cox said

“Well I have perhaps sinned in thought enough but never passed to the act. And yes I haven’t been particularly nice to my fellow man and there is no secular law against offending people or being reclusive and misanthropic.”

Then he looked up miffed

“But you seem to be forgetting that you and I are here together doing this and that it doesn’t seem to be related to any secular ethic as far as I can make out. There was your mysterious committee remember, talk of Purgatory, Limbo etc., who were they then if not the supernatural guardians of some moral code? Not very secular THAT so what is all that about if you’re so damned sure? What about all the weight of sins you have to shed by this paranormal work-out involving me they condemned you to? You must have been a real bad bastard in life! What did you do that weighs you down so much?”

“’Taint none o’ yo’ fuckin business asshole what ah diyud! Anyhows, ‘taint half as bad as some. I was a Marine an’ proud of it. Got nuthin to regret! ‘Taint my fault ah didn’t manage ter dodge the draft by goin’ into a fuckin’ Seminary but hell Nam wuz nuthin’ compared ter that place! They had just enough time ter indoctrinate me with enough o’ that shit ter have an effect afore I wuz sent out there. Ev’thing ah did wuz right at the time! But war an’ religion both fuck yah up!

You git ter searching fer yer men taken pris’ner bah the Kong you don’t ferkin care ifn you blow the hayud off someone jest ter git yer men out o’ the clutches of those murderin’ torturin’ madmen. Yer don’t care ifn later yer guide some missile ter blow some ragheads on a desert road ter kingdom come. It’s yer job not to moralise yer paid ter do it whether like what yer leaders have gotten yer into or not, yer do it! Someone has to! We’re pieces in a board game, actors in a play. We’s individuals but we has ter act as groups. ‘Taint important what each man thinks, we got not choice, we have ter leave our real selves, our humanity at home.”

He continued, visibly upset despite his protestations of right

“But it wasn’t ME, not ME I tell yah who put cameras on the ends of missiles jest so someone could show some po’ fucker’s face on CNN in front o’ forty million people jest before he gets blown ter smithereens. And what good did that do? Did it change the world? Did it make people think all that fightin’ was wrong all that murder was wrong and vow to never go ter war agin’?

The bastards took the things I love, Cameras and images and they corrupted ’em, they trivialised the horror instead of pointing it out in snapshots that tell a thousand words an’ really make people think! My images are my legacy to the peace I fought for. They tell stories, they affected others in the right way. They were taken with love and good intentions whether a dawg in the street or a baby cryin’ or a couple getting’ married, a vase o’ flowers or jest a turkey in the woods. Fuck this!

Cain’t yah see I wuz weighed down by what others, governments an’ religion loaded on mah back not what ah put there, from mah own thinkin’ mahself. Ah wuz a good man, ah did what ah did an saw as right but also cuz I had no choice. MAH INTENTIONS wuz good an’ yeah, the road ter Hell is paved with ’em. But yer cain’t help not foreseeing consequences good or bad. Yer jest has to have no ill in mind.”

The spectre seemed to be almost weeping but nevertheless seemed to be carrying less of his burden and his features seemed to have solidified into the normal recognisable one of a human being.

“C’mon asshole we got few mo’ thangs to go see.”

To be continued…

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