So in February 2011 — ten years ago! — I…

Ended the month rather dramatically! That particular adventure began on 28 February as I smoked my last ever cigarette while waiting for the ambulance which took me to Wollongong Hospital.

March 2011 revisited — 1

Posted on  by Neil

Here’s how it began for me:

And that dominated this blog for the next couple of weeks, though by 9 March I was back home.

Of course that should be 2011…

My then laptop was dying at the end of February, though I had another I called Baby Toshiba which provided the hospital image above. How my dying laptop manifested its departure I managed to capture on video on 27 February:

Remember Windows 7?

There was Christchurch of course — the earthquake. On this day ten years ago I also had a coffee at Diggers with Mr Rabbit, aka Mitchell, a well-remembered Class of 2000 ex-SBHS student, and in 2011 a teacher in Wollongong. An English teacher in fact. Still is, I just confirmed, in the Blue Mountains.

Down to The Gong; coffee at the Diggers

Posted on  by Neil

Called in to the Uniting Church on the Mall. Thought about New Zealand.


Met Mr Rabbit for coffee at The Diggers Club. We were still there for the 4.30 ritual. I have grown to appreciate the ritual; Mr R hadn’t experienced it before.

At RSL Clubs throughout Australia, the Remembrance Silence is a solemn ritual that takes place every night. All lights except a Memorial Flame or an Illuminated Cross are dimmed. Everyone present stands in silence facing the Flame or Cross and the Ode from For the Fallen is recited (usually from a recording).

Originally this ritual took place at 9 pm and it’s still listed that way on the government’s Defence website. However, some RSL Clubs now have it as early as 5 pm (Miranda RSL). No one knows for sure why it was at 9pm. It may be a coincidence, but the BBC went silent at 9 pm during WWII to allow radio listeners to hear the chiming of the bells of Big Ben in London. It was said that the BBC did this as a symbol to free men in the captive nations of the world.

Note: RSL Clubs (Returned & Services League of Australia) are social clubs for returned service personnel. People mistakenly refer to all Service Clubs and Memorial Clubs as RSL Clubs. Only those clubs associated with the RSL should be called RSL Clubs. – source


Mr R was in the SHS Class of 2000 and now teaches English here in The Gong. I passed my academic gown on to him yesterday. It’s almost 50 years old! Nice to know it will continue appreciated for some years to come, and may even appear in a speech night or two…

See, I really am an old reactionary after all!

And the day before I was still thinking about Christchurch and posed a question I would still pose to anyone moaning about this politician or that, or saying they don’t like any of them. Anarchy — no-government government — is not an option.

Natural disasters–what would an anarchist do?

Posted on  by Neil

In every major catastrophe such as that now confronting New Zealand we see images like these.


Now I can’t even begin to imagine what The Anarchist Guide to Natural Disaster Relief and Management would look like. Can anyone? Does this not reveal that anarchism is merely the ultimate pie in the sky, a political philosophy that is, when it comes down to it, no more than self-indulgence stretched to the point of absurdity?

This guy had a go at defending the proposition: In Praise of Anarchy.

This site asks the right questions.

I personally believe that Anarchy is a utopian ideal which cannot be reached. The following questions reflect why I am skeptical of a stateless society.

1) How would a stateless society deal with an invasion by an organized army ?

2) How would a Stateless society deal with famine or plague?

3) How would a stateless society deal with environmental disasters like the recent one involving British Petroleum ?

4) How would a stateless society deal with ethnic/religious/cultural tensions ?

5 ) How would a stateless society deal with natural disasters like hurricanes,tornadoes, etc ?

6) How would a stateless society deal with organized crime ?


From my blog — January 2011 — ten years on

So relevant still to recent concerns!

Being Australian 13: inclusive multiculturalism Aussie style 6

Posted on  by Neil

Like Jim Belshaw I watched Faces of America (or part thereof) before seeing Immigration Nation on SBS last night. I will give my thoughts on both tomorrow.

In this post I continue exploring the scary monster of multiculturalism.

Amazing how nominalisation can convert a word into a scary monster. I suspect the -ism makes multicultural much scarier than it was before, just as adding an -ism to a rather positive word, cosmopolitan, would cause anxiety too. Try on cosmopolitanism for size!

My view is that what has evolved here, which I shamelessly and fondly think of as inclusive multiculturalism, is actually quite a conservative and pragmatic affair, hardly a monster at all. In fact purist multiculturalismists often criticise it as window dressing, as a cunning way to manage migrants. There’s some truth in that, and I say — what a good thing! In some ways inclusive multiculturalism has been quite utilitarian, aiming for the greatest happiness of the greatest number.

So too another word that favours -ion rather than -ism, though I suppose you could have assimilationism. Oh dear, I see we already have!

as·simi·la·tion·ism (-iz′əm) noun: the policy of completely absorbing minority cultural groups into the main cultural body, esp. by intermarriage

To observant Jews assimilationism has long been a very scary monster. Only by consciously resisting full assimilation were diaspora Jews able to preserve their culture.

There can be no doubt that once we in Australia embarked post-1945 on mass immigration assimilationism was the favoured method for achieving the dream of cultural homogeneity. Only there was a problem. When it did work it wasn’t entirely a good thing. Losses occurred. In many cases it just didn’t work. Some wogs just wouldn’t give up aspects of themselves and of their cultures which they saw not only as keys to their self-respect but also superior to what Australia offered them. Often they were right, and educated the rest of us accordingly, thus improving their adopted country.

On loss, consider William Yang. William I know and have even been photographed by. He’s also the same age I am, and I can’t blame his parents for their decision to make sure William Young, as he once was, growing up in rural Queensland was as assimilated as possible. The result may have been thirty years of anguish for William, but that wasn’t the intention. After all, when William and I were growing up people like William were still being deported.

Those extracts are from a talk William Yang gave in the early 1990s. M and I were in the audience. I subsequently published it in my book From Yellow Earth to Eucalypt (Longmans 1995).

Here is how William achieved personal integration, undoing the impact of assimilation.

Is he any less Australian now that he has embraced his forgotten culture? Of course not. Inclusive multiculturalism facilitated and justified his journey.

Or take Professor Martin Krygier. This is from his 1997 Boyer Lectures: Between Fear and Hope.

…There’s no way ultimately to resolve conflicts over values, but that doesn’t mean that anything goes. There are ways of arguing about values, and some ways and some values are more defensible than others. Some, indeed, are indefensible, as I will seek to show. Others, mine as it happens, are solid as rocks. Or so I want to believe. If I were a philosopher, I would simply rely on the power of my argument to convince you to share my values. But I’m not, so I will say something about their sources and character to try to convey why I find them attractive and why they matter so to me. Of course, I would not be disappointed if you found them attractive as well. I’m an Australian. I was born, brought up and educated here. I have spent the bulk of my life here. I watch cricket for days without being bored. I expect Christmas to be hot. These facts are central to my make-up. Were they otherwise, so would I be. And yet they’re not the only pieces that make me up. For, like so many Australians, I’m the lucky beneficiary of other people’s tragedies, most immediately those of my parents. That, too, is relevant to who I am and what I think about.

My parents arrived here during the Second World War, Polish-Jewish refugees from Nazism. Their lives, families, friendships and country were ripped apart. Both my mother’s parents and her brother were murdered by the Nazis; other relatives spent years fighting or being imprisoned by them, and what was left of the family was dispersed. My parents left Poland from necessity, arrived in Australia by accident, and stayed because, after the Communist take-over of Poland, they couldn’t go home. They came to love this country and to participate actively in its affairs, but that was later. I mention these far from exceptional facts not to claim some exotic authority for my views, nor – in accordance with a budding Australian tradition – to launch a prizewinning novel but because they inform the way I think about things, what I think about and – above all – what I think matters. Combined with my birthplace, they have made me what I am: a congenital cultural hybrid, a hybrid from birth. If you prefer, a mongrel. My parents were already hybrids in Poland, since they were culturally both Polish and Jewish. So, their lives were already complicated. They became Australian hybrids differently, however, over time. What they came to learn and expect, and grew to be, in Australia interacted with their already formed personalities and cultural identities. Their hybrid condition was acquired, as is that of most, if not all adult migrants: they become different from what they once were while remaining different from those among whom they now are. Since over 20 per cent of Australians were born overseas, and 40 per cent were either so born or their parents were, there are a lot of us about.

There is also a third sort of hybrid, and I’m one of them too. I study the societies of post-communist Europe, and their fate matters a lot to me. So I’m also a vocational hybrid: coming from one world, and preoccupied with another. That also has consequences. When I’m there I think of here; when here, of there. That makes comparisons ever-present and unavoidable. All hybrids are affected, some afflicted, by overlapping cultural residues within them. They often discover to their surprise, rather than as a matter of deliberate choice, aspects of their personality – their sense of identity, belonging, sometimes longing – which define them and have moulded them, whether they like it or not…

Hybridism rather than assimilation. This is what so often happened, often for the better as far as the whole country was concerned.

Third, consider the poet Peter Skrzynecki.

Australian poet Peter Skrzynecki writes about his experiences teaching in NSW, his migrant upbringing in suburban Sydney and his attempts to assimilate, ‘fit in’ and overcome the challenges of a new life in a new land.

Of Polish Ukrainian descent, Peter was born in Germany in 1945. Escaping a world in turmoil, his family emigrated to Australia in 1949. Peter’s earliest memories of this time is the month long sea journey to Sydney on the “General Blatchford” and his time living in a migrant camp in Bathurst before moving on to the Parkes Migrant Centre. To Peter this camp was his first Australian home.

The family later moved to 10 Mary Street in the working class suburb of Regents Park in Sydney It was their castle. Peter’s father, Feliks, of whom he often writes, worked long as a labourer for the Water Board, while his mother, Kornelia spent her days working as a domestic for families in Strathfield. They grew their own vegetables and had a magnificent flower garden. Within four years number 10 Mary Street had been paid off. While his parents worked, Peter attended the local Catholic primary school and later St Patrick’s College Strathfield. Thanks to an English teacher, Brian Couch, Peter’s love of literature was fostered and his writing flourished…

His first book, There, Behind the Lids was published in 1970 followed by Headwaters in 1972 and Immigrant Chronicle in 1975. In the first two Peter wrote mainly of his experiences teaching in the country, reflecting on the natural world, the people, flora and fauna. In the third Peter wrote about his European background, his experiences as a migrant in Australia, the problems associated with being an exile, with his parents’ dispossession and the difficulties, such as racism, bigotry and resettlement, encountered by them and other immigrants in trying to assimilate to a new life in a new land.

His anthology Joseph’s coat (1985) identifies the themes and issues of Australia’s multicultural society.

Often his work is about understanding and counting the cost of assimilation.

You may find here an essay I wrote on his work. It also brings together some of the thoughts we have had so far in this series.

— And another thing: lunch at Illawarra Steelers Australia Day 2011 — Meal: $6.95 White wine: $2.30.

Some reposts on teaching — 2 — we need to get back to thoughts like these

Back in September 2007 I began a series based on a book I had purchased.

23/9/07: Yesterday on Lines from a Floating Life I mentioned that I had bought, among other things, Andrew Metcalfe and Ann Game (eds) Teachers Who Change Lives (Melbourne University Press 2006) “to make me feel good about being a teacher.”

I have been browsing, and I am happy to report the book is totally unscientific, without statistics or hard facts to back up anything it says — and yet I venture to suggest it may be one of the best books I have read for many years on what good teaching really is about. I will tell you more next time.

24/9/07: You may read read some edited extracts from the interview material that underpins Andrew Metcalfe and Ann Game (eds) Teachers Who Change Lives. In addition to those, I was interested to note among the teachers and (ex)students interviewed is Nicholas Jose, currently Professor of Creative Writing at the University of Adelaide, a long-term friend of my friend M, and also a friend of mine.

That is the method the book used: to interview a range of people about teachers who changed their lives, and also to interview a number of teachers. The project is 100% humanist and humane. Data is neither quantified nor analysed statistically. Instead, a number of themes emerge from the corpus of interviews. These are then expanded in a series of chapters. I propose to devote an entry to each of those themes.

But first a word on my own experience. It is only from time to time that I would say my teaching reached the level this book describes — but it did happen. Let me say, however, that those times were perhaps peak experiences, and sometimes they were not even recognised at the time they occurred. The school as institution can often be dispiriting and imperfect. There have been times I have said: “I love teaching. Just such a shame it happens in schools!” I think many teachers will know what I mean.

It is always nice to be told when such interactions actually happened, as one ex-student, Chris Jones, did in a comment here. Expanding on that in an email, Chris wrote, and I was more than happy to read:

I was very lucky to have you as a teacher Neil. Your classes were so different. I remember you as perhaps the only teacher who seemed to treat us as equals – you were a wiser equal, no doubt, but we could talk as if we were all standing at the same level. We could laugh and share thoughts and feelings without the usual hierarchy, and that made the learning experience all the better. My memory of Great Expectations mirrors that – it was like we all *together* made comments on it. No other teacher ever made me feel quite that way.

Chris was in the class of 1986. I knew at the time I was enjoying myself — and working quite hard — but I really had no idea this was the effect on some at least in that class.

You will find a bit about some of my ex-students and coachees in Lines from a Floating Life.

25/9/07: In their introductory chapter Andrew Metcalf and Anne Game summarise the issues they found in their interview material. I will give you the bare headings today. I propose to expand on each one with anecdotes or thoughts of my own over the coming weeks.

1. Changing Lives without Aiming to

2. Seeing Potential in Students

3. Teaching as a Form of Love

4. A Passion for Learning

5. The Importance of Authority

6. The Process of Learning

7. Dialogue as an Opening of the Mind

8. Playing Your Part

9. A Full Life

More to come.

My last workplace, Sydney High — also my old school

Some reposts on teaching — 1 — The literacy we need but many don’t want…

Especially while still actively teaching or tutoring in the 2000s, I posted quite a bit about teaching. I propose to repost whole posts or extracts. This first one was originally posted 23 November 2007. I believe it is still relevant.

I wrote a careful essay on the nature of literacy in 1998; you may read an updated version here. At one level literacy involves just learning to read and write, using whatever teaching methods work — and that is always a combination of methods. (The whole-language VERSUS phonics myth is just that, a myth; it is rather whole-language AND phonics.) Conservative critics always focus on one end of this, and berate schools if 100% of students have not mastered basic literacy by, say, the end of primary school — a great aim, but an unrealistic one.

There are ALWAYS, whatever you do, going to be those who do not master reading and writing as well as we would like them to, just as there are those who achieve literacy even before going to school. Of course we all want an outcome that allows all those who can be literate to be literate; no quarrel there, but let’s stop nonsense such as bleating about 25% of students being “below average” and let’s stop imposing standardised tests, or at least let’s stop tying too much to them, or regarding them as anything other than potentially useful diagnostic tools.

A bit less time spent on testing and bean-counting and a bit more time, funding, and effort dedicated to actual teaching and teaching environments might do a lot more good.

But there is a type of literacy conservatives not only do not talk about but positively discourage: critical literacy. My belief is that this is so important that a democracy cannot function without it.

Here is someone who knows why.

This blog doing well — and what of 20 years ago?

I never expected to have been blogging (on various platforms) for twenty years, but that’s the case! Almost 21 years in fact, as the prototype “journal” appeared on my Brother Powernote in November 1999, transferring to Talk City in April 2000.

This blog is much newer and was fading somewhat, but this year has seen a revival.

Well it seems this is Post 302! And for that I replay bits of November 2000. Yes, TWENTY years ago!


Nicholas’ Jose’s new novel published this month.

Wednesday, November 1

November began nicely, despite not sleeping too well last night because I was up too late fiddling with this! One of my favourite people (one of the highlights of my year 2000) came over for lunch, and I cooked some Chinese food rather successfully: I’m getting more proficient. 🙂 Since my friend was about to face an ordeal, he left better able to handle it I hope. I’ll find out later how he went.

He handled it.

And my flatmate came home later on and served up barbecue duck, rice, and lots of vegetables…

Thursday, November 2

A wry quote for myself–and perhaps other Online Diarists:

I should not talk about myself so much if there were anybody else whom I knew so well.
–Henry David Thoreau (1817-1862)

And another–also Thoreau:

You may rely on it that you have the best of me in my books(website?), and that I am not worth seeing personally.

No special reason for those: they just tickled me, that’s all 🙂

Sunday, November 5: Guy Fawkes Day, Simon H’s and my Uncle Roy’s birthdays.

I am being lazy today and didn’t stir myself to go to Yum Cha, though I will probably go to the mid-month one on November 19. Got a backlog of library books to read, and I also must write/collate/edit my Term 4 propaganda newsletter for the staff at my school: theme this term is racism, so I need to be careful. I shall be naming it “Inclusiveness”.

At the Whole School Anti-Racism Project in-service day last week another staff member, two students and I agreed it may not be a big problem at our very multicultural school, but we also had to admit we did not really know. The previous administration operated a “Don’t talk about the War” approach, with the possible result that certain incidents came in from left field and then blew up, quite dramatically in some instances. It is much better to have an articulated response and set of policies, and the present administration seems very much of that mind too. And yes I do know of quite flagrant examples of racism over the past few years, mostly not at student level. (Would “I’m sick of the f***ing slopes around here” qualify? I suspect it might. There have been occasional more subtle variations on the “We’re being swamped by Asians” theme. ) I hasten to add that a minority is implicated. On the other hand I have had a few complaints about alleged racism that really came down to an individual getting pretty much what he deserved, simply on the grounds of what he had done, not who he was.

Anyone can be racist, of course. You don’t have to be European.

No sermon today–or was there? 😉

Wednesday, November 8

It’s one of those days when I have felt better—I put it down to an urge to have a frozen meat pie with my veggies last night. Always knew Australian food was dangerous! Fortunately it is my day off anyway.

Comments on the American election will have to wait until it is absolutely clear who has won—unlike yesterday’s Melbourne Cup!

I have been reading a fairly ordinary but diverting (if repetitious) mystery story, J Wallis Martin, A Likeness in Stone. Fairly clumsy structuring of the threads of narrative. Also from the local library and lined up to read are: Brian Masters, The Evil that Men Do, not a feminist work but a perhaps superficial look at notable instances of evil; Lisa Appignanesi, A Good Woman; Russell Banks, Continental Drift . Finally, from the library, is semi-professional reading in the form of Bill Cope and Mary Kalantzis, A Place in the Sun: re-creating the Australian Way of Life, Harper Collins, 2000. I have heard Mary Kalantzis speak at a TESOL conference, and read quite a bit of her work; it should be highly relevant. I am still browsing The Battle for God, and probably will be for some time. It adds enormously to my knowledge of the religion and politics of the major faiths, and is far from a superficial rehearsal of cliches about fundamentalism. It is historically rich, well researched, and carefully nuanced; fundamentalists would probably not read it, but maybe they should.

A rather admirable figure of 17th century England, John Selden, had this to say:

Scrutamini scripturas. [Let us search the Scriptures.] These two words have undone the world.

There is a lot of truth in that.

7.30 pm So, it is George W Bush. Let’s hope he gets a good team around him. It strikes me, as an outsider, to be a victory for down-home folksiness and money, an odd combination; certainly the Bible Believers will be happier–more “relaxed and comfortable”, to quote an Australian Prime Minister. Foreign policy could prove interesting, and it is certainly no step forward for social policy. Gays, even though there are gay Republicans, could well be weeping; it will be interesting following the comment on Talk City Chat, Planet Out, Gaywired, and other American gay sites. Gays in the military–and of course there are such, just as here–have suffered a big step backwards. Incarceration rates will be worth watching.

Given the significance of the US for all of us, let’s hope Bush rises to the task. He may well.

8.30 pm Well, that may have been premature! I suggest you click on the ABC link for the latest state of the Union!

Thursday, November 9

So–we still don’t know. Contemplate the following in the meantime, which I published earlier this year in my ESL Newsletter at school:

If George W. Bush gets up as President of the U.S.A. we can look forward to some interesting English. Professor Robert J. Fouser of Gakuen University in Japan gives the following examples as perhaps some consolation to Koreans and Japanese trying to learn English; George W is, after all, a native speaker. (SOURCE: The Korea Herald, 1 March 2000.)

 The question we need to ask: Is our children learning?
 There is madmen in the world and there are terror.
 We also know, and you know if you’ve got a relative who wear the uniform, or you got a friend who does so or a neighbour, the morale is low in the United States military today.
 If terriers and barrifs are torn down, the economy will grow. (i.e., “barriers and tariffs?
 ?a world of madmen and uncertainty and potential mental losses (i.e., “missile launches?.

Friday, November 17

It has been a good day, then a miserable afternoon, then a nice evening with PK, Ian Smith, James and friends. During the day the highlight was a free-ranging conversation with Master Fu and Feng, 18-year-olds in the “nicest people I know” category mentioned above. The content doesn’t matter–it was a lovely exchange.

Home, and certain problems seem to have returned to square one–and to cap it our washing machine gave up in a cloud of smoke!

Then I sought solace/escape with my friends, and a few beers I have to admit, and yes I do feel better, but apprehensive. Put that aside now. Last night Ian Smith sent me this which has apparently had wide circulation. I think it is very funny.

To the citizens of the United States of America,

In the light of your failure to elect a President of the USA and thus to govern yourselves, we hereby give notice of the revocation of your independence, effective today. Her Sovereign Majesty Queen Elizabeth II will resume monarchial duties over all states, commonwealths and other territories. Except Utah, which she does not fancy. Your new prime minister (The rt. hon. Tony Blair, MP for the 97.85% of you who have until now been unaware that there is a world outside your borders) will appoint a minister for America without the need for further elections. Congress and the Senate will be disbanded. A questionnaire will be circulated next year to determine whether any of you noticed. To aid in the transition to a British Crown Dependency, the following rules are introduced with immediate effect:

1. You should look up “revocation” in the Oxford English Dictionary. Then look up “aluminium”. Check the pronunciation guide. You will be amazed at just how wrongly you have been pronouncing it. Generally, you should raise your vocabulary to acceptable levels. Look up “vocabulary”. Using the same twenty seven words interspersed with filler noises such as “like” and “you know” is an unacceptable and inefficient form of communication. Look up “interspersed”.

2. There is no such thing as “US English”. We will let Microsoft know on your behalf.

3. You should learn to distinguish the English and Australian accents. It really isn’t that hard.

4. Hollywood will be required occasionally to cast English actors as the good guys.

5. You should relearn your original national anthem, “God Save The Queen”, but only after fully carrying out task 1. We would not want you to get confused and give up half way through.

6. You should stop playing American “football”. There is only one kind of football. What you refer to as American “football” is not a very good game. The 2.15% of you who are aware that there is a world outside your borders may have noticed that no one else plays “American” football. You will no longer be allowed to play it, and should instead play proper football. Initially, it would be best if you played with the girls. It is a difficult game. Those of you brave enough will, in time, be allowed to play rugby (which is similar to American “football”, but does not involve stopping for a rest every twenty seconds or wearing full kevlar body armour like nancies). We are hoping to get together at least a US rugby sevens side by 2005.

7. You should declare war on Quebec and France, using nuclear weapons if they give you any merde. The 97.85% of you who were not aware that there is a world outside your borders should count yourselves lucky. The Russians have never been the bad guys. “Merde” is French for “sh*t”.

8. July 4th is no longer a public holiday. November 8th will be a new national holiday, but only in England. It will be called “Indecisive Day”.

9. All American cars are hereby banned. They are crap and it is for your own good. When we show you German cars, you will understand what we mean.

10. Please tell us who killed JFK. It’s been driving us crazy.

Thank you for your cooperation.

Sunday, November 19

The mid-month Yum Cha was held this morning at the Emperor’s Garden Restaurant in Chinatown: PK, Ian Smith, Sirdan, English Paul (whose first ever Yum Cha it was) and myself: Mutian and Big Tim were expected but didn’t make it. The food was good, particularly the final custard tarts which we agreed were the best so far. The next Yum Cha will be the first Sunday in December (my God!) at the Silver Spring.

The weather in Sydney has been gloomy, and Surry Hills is still a bit that way too 😉

This Sunday meditation comes again from my trusty 365 Tao by Deng Ming-Dao, and is actually for November 18 (Southern Hemisphere). It is really for me, but may suit others:

Lines on the face, tattoos of aging
Life is proved upon the body
Like needle-jabs from a blind machine.

The older one gets, the more one is conscious of aging. We can barely remember childhood innocence and exuberance. We are surprised by the youthful vitality and unmarked face when we see earlier photos of ourselves. When we look in the mirror, we reluctantly acknowledge the aging mask. It seems that there is no escaping the marks of life.

Every experience that we have, everything that we do and think is registered upon us as surely as the steady embroidery of a tattoo artist. But to a large degree, the pattern and picture that will emerge is up to us?There is no reason to go through life thoughtlessly, to let accident shape us. That is like allowing yourself to be tattooed by a blind man.
Whether we emerge beautiful or ugly is our sole responsibility.

It is, of course, not the beauty of the body to which Dao refers.