Lauren O'Connor

THE HIGHWAY QUEEN: an interview with Louise Landes Levi

(This interview took place in May of 2010, at the PICK ME UP CAFE, Ave. A & 9th Street, NYC. We had met a few weeks before, at a Torn Page salon, where she read and played sarangi, a Northern Indian instrument said to resemble the sound of the human voice. The word sarangi is derived from two Sanskrit words: sa (hundred) and rang (color). This is because the sound of the sarangi is said to be as expressive and evocative as a hundred colors. I asked her if she would like to meet and talk...)

Lauren O'Connor: A place to start…Can you speak on the idea of poetry as a type of shamanistic work. Is it, is it not? How can poetry lead you? Can you speak to specific points throughout your life where you realized this?

Louise Landes Levi: Poetry was the major work... I've been involved for many years in a kind of religious research — I think this came from (what I felt to be) the absence of positive family conditioning. I did find a community to which I felt devoted & through which I felt an evolution might be possible. But, w .the teacher and even in the group (or sanga) with whom I studied there was some kind of barrier — something which didn’t work. Not really with the teacher, the teacher was always kind of feminine and compassionate, with me, at least in the beginning — but, gradually I felt something in the religious hierarchy that was very disturbing.

In the beginning, this particular teaching (of ‘presence’) developed in an anarchistic, even shamanistic context or situation. But as time went on it became allied to the corporate money system and also manifested (for me) as a kind of (religious) hierarchy — I became confused, even paralyzed, by this. & cld. no longer participate. The teacher, however, did not abandon me — he was instead very supportive — when I was unable to be around the ‘community’ I could isolate myself. I cld. peacefully withdraw.[. I would type and work and feel like this was my offering or practice - at a certain point, I could no longer (even) do the formal practice. I began, instead, to experience the performance as my practice.

It's not something that I like to do necessarily but it’s something I need to do. The word is my offering. I began to experience — after all those years of meditation, that when I got up there in front of all of all those people there was a kind of opening or offering. I would feel my energetic heart open itself — it was great really because I am quite shy. It was almost like my practice — my inner life — was manifesting in the performance. Otherwise, by that time, I was perfectly incapable of doing anything, within the context of the community, correctly. Then, on Isla Margarita I had a vision of sorts, I was hanging out w. some of the (half Indian/half European) artisans of the island — they were using plant substances, among themselves & in ritualized, tribal contexts. One night, when I was w. them, they were preparing tobacco, for some kind of ceremony, an editor I know quite well appeared to me, he appeared in space. He said don't humiliate yourself. I didn’t have to humiliate myself to the half European, half Indian shamans, Nice as they were they knew nothing about me. I was abandoned by the person who originally drew me into their circle... the others didn’t talk to me at all. The visionary figure told me that poetry was already a form of shamanism — performing for others traveling as you do, he told me, is already a form of shamanism… in the context, of course, of modern or post-modern society. Poetry is traditional, it’s a traditional art. It carries power, the art itself, the shaping & the delivering, the rendering of the word or song. I think the people who practice it are guardians of the tradition, for the time that is given to them to practice it. Everything is impermanent, of course.

L O'C: Do you feel that going to the place where you tried to practice with a group and teacher you were searching for something else? and when they weren't showing you...

LLL: Exactly. I was thinking Oh! Shamanism — this is better than Buddhism, I can't stand this Buddhist community anymore, I was thinking, oh, I'll try to learn these songs, I love songs, in this case there was a beautiful practice of dance & song — but again I felt an utter lack of communication, utter isolation. I couldn't talk to the shaman students — I don't usually talk about myself, even though I am doing it with you. The visionary figure, someone I recognized & knew — but who was not there physically — interrupted and said stop this! You must not humiliate yourself in this way. Go back to NYC — do your work. This vision, manifested, almost magnetically, as a kind of a portrait, in space. I think he, the person I saw, familiar to me, functions in this way for other people as well, he is a kind of Virgilian personage & a character In my recent book (The book L, Cool Grove Press, 2011). I asked him if I should change his initials in the book and he said why? (laughs) …first thought best thought.

L O'C: Can you talk about Mira Bai and when you started & how you started to work with her poetry — to translate her devotional songs?

LLL: I never really make ‘final’ or ultimate decisions. When I was young I was sort of psychic. I was an over sensitive & sickly child. I could see auras around things. I was sick as a child and my mother was classically cruel to me, without her wanting to be so. I was ill & thus isolated fr. infancy on. I spent a lot of time staring at things, growing things, but also the ceiling (as I was in bed) and reading. I had experiences of light — I saw lights coming fr. letters, when I tried to learn the alphabet and also around the leaves of plants. Later, as a student, I was very cautious w. drugs — even w. marijuana. Berkeley was an open (& alternative) medicine cabinet, I was afraid for my mind & thought I had to preserve whatever it was that allowed me to see the auras around the plants. I was studying Western music — on flute — and this lead gradually & in accordance w. the circumstances (in Berkeley) to the study of Indian music. I was interested in two particular poets ( fr. India) — Mira Bai & Kabir — I don't know where I got this interest.. I was always so interested in Western classical music, in Beethoven — especially the string quartets and then I became fascinated by Indian String music & by those two poets. When I got to India one of the first things I did was to translate a (seminal) poem of Mira Bai. I have no idea why. It is the first poem in my book (Sweet On My Lips. The Love Poems of Mira Bai. Cool Grove Pr., 1997, reprinted in 2003 & 2017). I translated, at first, w. an elderly pandit (or learned man) who I met, by chance, in Bombay. The story is in the book, in an essay entitled "Translation And The Sacred Word."

Then, without any provocation on my part, but shortly after a darsan (or visit) w. an Indian swami, I had an incredible experience — with & through the letters of the devanagari alphabet, those in which the Sanskrit alphabet is written. Something similar had happened, when I was a child, with the roman alphabet, but this experience was of a much much higher voltage. A transformative experience, it's written about in the book — a dog bites me (in real life) & I have to get shots, rabies shots. I am, at this time, living on the property of Sumati Moragi — I'm teaching her school... Ms. Moragi, an elderly woman, comes to the cabin where I am living, sees my wound and says come and stay on my veranda. She tucks me into a wooden bed, next to a similar one, she tells me, where Gandhi had slept. She tells me Gandhi had given the Salt Address from that very veranda... powerful right?! I wake in the morning, my leg in traction. I put a Sanskrit grammar book in front of me and I say Louise, this is the day for you to learn Sanskrit.

I absorbed the letters of the devanagari into my system, but, on some level, they were already there, there was this powerful light — or recognition. After that I knew the alphabet perfectly and even today I know it. So once I knew it, the very next day I said to myself — Louise, learn Hindi (& start to really study Mira Bai). Something else — I didn't travel very much because I felt frail and freaked out and I was studying. I had a boyfriend and had had a complex affair with my music teacher, it was all very complicated, traveling wasn’t really the objective but, following circumstances, I did go on certain travels, actually, they were pilgrimages. Later, when I got into translating Mira & preparing the book I understood that my travels had been restricted to points on her hagiography (a saint’s biography) or pilgrimage routes. I only went to those places. It's weird right? I felt compelled, you know. It’s also very weird that I can, today, right now recite those poems by memory. I don't think I am very smart and its hard for me to pronounce names, I might be dyslexic, I have a lot of problems, but some specific concentrative skill in that old language — Braja Bhasa.

Something else I'd like to say — I was a 60's child, at the university, in Berkeley, but there was something that felt personally threatening to me about all the drugs, I knew I had a certain mental frailty. I didn't want to do drugs until I felt mature enough or clear enough to handle my experience of them / We were all experimenting, but I think I had some intimation, perhaps fr. my study of music, of ‘method’ involved in consciousness expansion, even if I didn’t know that term then. I finished university, at a cost & then played in Daniel Moore’s Floating Lotus Magic Opera Company. I loved the music & the meditations we did — we were working w. ideas of community on many levels — but I began to feel there was something else, something missing in our experimentations. This ingredient was teachings — the mind altering substances were very important for the culture at the time, but if one was really interested in maintaining an expanded vision or view of the cosmos (& oneself) one had to, I felt or intuited, work for it (or so I saw it, perhaps I was in error). Anyway, India seemed like a milieu of hidden method and the Hindu saints somehow manifested to me as the anarchistic aspect of the tradition that had emerged in India with regards to mind and the transcendence of mind.

L O'C: It's really interesting that you mention that time and that culture and that they sort of needed drugs to have a movement forward. I was recently thinking about places in and around Hollywood and San Francisco and how that kind of culture was there to save the arts. It had to exist in order to continue through film, rock n roll and with drugs it was all existing together. I have always had an interest in that time, as someone who didn't live in that time, but I am interested in what else there was. There has to be some other thing... I know I am living off a dream of what the media says...

LLL: Right, some people say this with regards to the CIA and what we were talking about earlier with Tibet (outside of the interview). There is documentation concerning the programs involved & the opera was, I think, offended by one of these programs — offended as well the personal lives of people who were very close, very dear to me. There is some evidence (Operation Chaos, et. al.), but it's never discussed in the media, of course not. The Nuremberg Trials, in the 40’s, just after the second World War, were a kind of show, they covered the fact that at least 1,500 top Nazi professionals were invited into & protected by the US government through a program called Operation Paperclip. Other of these high level ‘professionals’ were hired by the European nations. Josef Mengele(the 'angel of death') was protected by the Italian Red Cross. The EU is militarized, right wing & very conservative. The 4th Reich, was already proposed in the 50’s, the Euro was determined at the same time In the US, the OSS (1942) became the CIA (1947). I can’t understand if, in the 1960’s, they allowed this so called social revolution, as a form of mind control — then infiltrated & controlled for their own purposes, or even play. I really have no idea, but I know that the Nazis were very interested in Mind Control, in the use of biological weapons & chemical controls — the drugs produced by the US government & the distribution of these drug is still not openly discussed, nor the number of rock stars who died of ODs & the involvement of covert elements in these deaths.

L O'C: Yeah, Hollywood murders, and rock n roll deaths, the media made this seem just as necessary as the creation of the art in film or music. There had to be the death of it. So strange...

LLL: The Manson murders and the Beatles, for instance there's been a lot of research into that. How far are they letting expression go? & can they control it? Who are they & for whom are they manipulating fame & fortune? Someone who is truly radical & who lives here will be thwarted for sure. I was not able to express myself within the (sic artistic) hierarchy — I want, or now I need, to be left alone. I think if you leave something alone, like a crystal or a seed, something can manifest that is important. The Floating Lotus Magic Opera Company — was the first fusion orchestra in America. It didn't become wildly famous, like the orchestras that followed, the Mahavishnu Orchestra or Theater of Eternal Music, in NYC — but there were some great musicians who were involved, Terry Riley,Agnus MaCleise, Suzi Archuletta & others. After I left, magnetized by my sarangi teacher & by the instrument, (for better or worse) there was a write up about the opera in Rolling Stone. Within two weeks of that article, an apparently charismatic individual — Ian Dallas — arrived in Berkeley. Within the next two weeks, the director, the assistant director and his wife, who was my best friend, converted to Shiite Islam. The opera stood for communal, utopian values. It was dissolved and its major proponents were absorbed, at least I think, into a kind of mind control program for the next decade, or so. Linda and Richard Thompson, fr. England’s The Fairport Convention were also sucked in. I didn't know the details & the consequences suffered by those involved until 30 years later. My friend fr. California had been a close friend of Linda's in all this. Nothing against the Muslims, some members of that group, friends of mine, did make, in London, a very beautiful & recently released recording (on vinyl) Habibiya but I don't think Ian Dallas was the real thing. I don’t think he was a saint. I think he was working for the man. He destroyed our opera and he destroyed the spirit of my best friend, who was a really brilliant female musician. I suffered for this when I understood. When I told a friend about this, he said oh, it sounds like what happened to Linda Thompson, and it was, same group, same personalities. I am very sorry for my friends, of course. I am almost grateful now for my relative anonymity.

Those days, in the 60's, the poets, Philip Whalen, Gary Snyder, Allen Ginsberg, Michael McClure, were so luminous, so inspired. They were against everything in the conventional, boring, & war producing world view. Their readings were fantastic. It was a great era, but I do wonder... how much did they (those in control) let it happen? (to what extent was our euphoria their mind control experiment?). Of course true artistic expression, real attainment, cannot be touched by political forces. I miss those poets, When I go to the (now) conservative, at least socially, Buddhist retreats they come, (Allen, Gregory, Herbert Hunke), they appear — always just outside the mandala — they appear to be teasing me, (laughs) ask what are you doing here? But they also have great compassion Of course, they know what I am doing. It is always good to see them. For me, they represent the ‘crazy wisdom’, unconditioned levels of Mind & also of behavior, contained secretly within the more austere Buddhist teachings.

L O'C: When and where did your interest in Buddhism come in?

LLL: That’s a good question. I don't know if I was really ever that interested in Buddhism, per se. Certainly the great poets, already mentioned, turned me on to the perspective, more or less, unique to Buddhism & to its vocabulary. I remember, in Berkeley, I was engrossed in the poetry of Joanne Kyger — I wondered about terms like bodhicitta or bodhisattva which she used so freely. I wanted to understand these terms. I knew there was something to the Sanskrit references — I had to find out what. I never felt, for the Buddhist teachings this direct thing that I had felt for Hinduism — I had many unusual experiences, both w. the music & w. the teachers in India, but I also had a kind of nervous breakdown. An unexpected war (between Indian & Pakistan) occurred in 1972, supposedly, I have been told, the first of the covert CIA military initiatives. I knew that I cld. not endure the war-like conditions. I went to the American Embassy in Bombay, and begged to be repatriated. I told them I can’t handle it, and they denied any kind of problem. What war? In the media, the USA newspapers reported, in large headlines: "No Nuclear Subs in the Bay of Bengal." The Indian newspapers showed photographs of the submarines — in the Bay of Bengal. What a teaching. I couldn't really endure the tragedy of war, I just couldn't stand it, we suddenly lived, my boyfriend, also a music student & I, on a war ground, just minutes fr. a principal target, the Santa Cruz Airport. We & 2 friends, who had fled Delhi, decided to leave.

The situation was very dangerous. North India was in a panic, we went South and there I had a kind of breakdown. Nothing outward. I became aware of my inner violence, you know everyone has violence and anger, but I became terrified... of myself. I was afraid, I cldn’t understand why all of a sudden the Muslims and Hindus hated each other. The Hindus were gonna kill all those people in Pakistan, and I didn't understand why — why you would want to kill, harm or maim people you didn't even know? Something felt wrong, in my own mind. I had started shaking uncontrollably the first time I heard the sound of bombers in the sky. Everyone else just stayed normal... Nothing outward, but my thought processes were fucked up. I end up in Delhi — my friend, the woman I am visiting takes me to a Buddhist Lama. She is involved in a Buddhist community in Tashi Jong, No. India — her new born child is going to get a Buddhist name (fr. the Lama who is the head of the community in exile there). I was so screwed up but I can't tell anybody because I am so confused about it. We go and we are sitting with this Lama. I've never even seen a Lama before. He kind of looks at me, then he looks right through me and smiles so kindly so benevolently that I understand, that despite my extreme tension & unusual thought processes, everything is going to be alright. I understand nothing is really wrong. And somewhere deep inside of myself I realize that the disturbing intruders are just... thoughts. The mind is capable of producing multiple levels of thought. This, this blessing, took place at a critical moment of my life & led me, not directly but over the years towards the Dharma, the Buddhist teachings.

In Paris. healing fr. severe heartbreak and somehow, someone, a concierge — who I did not even know — threw all of my poetry away, eight years of it. Macabre. The work had been put in a baby carriage, by the same person who later threw it away. I was working, — translating — during the day, in a chambre de bonne (an attic room) on Avenue Rapp. The concierge asked, when he saw me carrying my papers why are you carrying all that? You can put it here, I will show you where, and then he threw it away — my entire oeuvre. I was studying Hinduism at that time, in Paris, translating fr. both Mira Bai & René Daumal, The loss of my work was the end of my formal (practical) study of Hinduism.

I was in my own room, also a chamber de bonne, suffering but still I was working — I was translating Daumals' review of The Life of Marpa — &, totally unexpectedly, a friend knocks on the door and asks if I want to meet the Buddhist lamas, living in France & convening, en masse, at Le Petit Palais. I went w. her — I was watching a film on Tibetan Medicine when they, the lamas, at least some of them, entered the room & encircled me., I was literally in the center of a circle they had created. They directed me to a small Buddhist Center, in the 19th arondisement — that's when & where I started studying Buddhism, at least Tibetan Buddhism. Of course I’d had some previous contact, w. ZEN, or w. some Buddhist monks, but this was different. I was looking for & found a kind of path, a way beyond my suffering.

A few years later, I met & lived with a Buddhist painter, in London. His painting teacher of panting & his lama, was the same Khamtruil Rimooche, an important lama in the Drukpa Kargyu lineage, that I had met in Delhi, in the post war crisis, the same one who had been so kind.

L O'C: So at first, it seemed to be extremely satisfying and a necessary transition...

LLL: Yes, it was very magical, very shamanistic. I had already met the Karmapa — I had a great, a truly healing experience with him. Everything, at that time, took place in a kind of spontaneous & also magical dimension. But as the teachings continued their transition to the west, it was really a kind of transplantation — I hate to say this but I think the coordinators of the transplant misunderstood certain aspects of the western system and especially the economic ( & class) system. This is only my opinion, of course. The organization (the sanga in which I was involved) became more and more allied with a kind of banking system, with the corporate understanding of money and structure, but with none of their ‘control' systems, things became so monetary & also uniform — I had never met such judgmental people. Not the teachers, of course, these judgments seemed almost to result fr. the structures that had evolved.

I always tried to be a humble student — to use the deep knowledge that was presented, in the teachings, as a kind of fertilizer, for my poetry, but also for my internal life, the two being one, somehow. I can't really judge the effect of the practice (on me or anyone else). Here, I'm not talking about the practice, I am talking about the structure within which the teachings were conveyed). Also, I come from a Jewish background and a 1960's mind set — I can’t stand any kind of racism, absurd generalizations w. relation to gender, class, vocation, etc. Within the sanga or community, at least some of the people, seemed perfectly at ease with all that. I guess I am trying to differentiate between the organization and the teaching. After decades of study, I found that, for me, the teachings were now coming through what I naturally did which was poetry. Even the teacher, recently when the community, in South America on Isla Margarita kind of fell apart, the teacher, very unusually gave some official katas (ceremonial silk scarves, white in color) to those who had helped him there, and secretly, in the night, he sent some presents around to some students who had, I think,also been there from the beginning. To my surprise — I was sleeping in a little tent, difficult to find, beneath a flowering tree — he sent me a very beautiful book, ceremonially wrapped in orange cloth, with blank pages & just one mantra, something he had made up, years ago, in Italian. As if to say trust yourself.

Of course this is a very unique story, I don't talk about this much. I didn’t even mention it to the other students.

L O'C: Thank you so much for that.

As you get older do these spirals become more coherent?

LLL: Chögyal Namkhai Norbu saved my life, I would have died without him.

I was living in Amsterdam in 1983-84. I felt that someone had a message for me, that a palm reader, somewhere in the city, had a message for me. I went around to all the palm readers but no one had the message. Then, I'm in a place called the Literary Cafe, I hear the voice of a Japanese girl — she is a palm reader and I know she has the message for me. She takes my hand in hers, looks at it and says, Oh very very nice, you were supposed to have died three years ago, but you didn't, you are still here w. us, very very nice. It’s true, in that period, in the time frame she indicated I was very weak, the childhood illness or impediment had returned. I was very sick but Namkhai Norbu, by some kind of miracle, intervened, he advised me, in a very personal way & thus allowed me, slowly, to recover my strength & of course, to recover a kind of poetic power or faith, the faith to start again, to start over.

L O'C: It is wonderful that you had someone in your life who could do this for you, who cld. help you get back on track...

LLL: No matter what the organization is now, I do not want it to affect the respect I have for him. He is an old man right now and maybe he does not know about all the stuff that is going on (& certainly I don’t know — I have my feelings of course but I have no power within the organization, no inside information at all). I try to keep the samaya ( Sanskrit: vow or promise) but I cant keep the samaya as a functional member of the society, either this one (surrounding us) or the one they created (the ‘community’). I keep the samaya as a poet, whether I write or not, whether I am a good poet or not, as a poet, as someone who is interpreting my own vision. At a certain point, I hate to say it, I couldn't deal with his vision, as least socially, sometimes I cld not even listen — but by giving me that book, he cut through everything, he more or less said, continue. Of course he had always supported my work, he even played my sarangi on occasion, really, whatever I did he accepted, even when, out of a kind of fragility, I withdrew, he knew I wld. continue the practice & I did.

L O'C: Yesterday you told me before I left the reading, "If you come, you should walk away with something" I've been thinking about that ever since. It seems appropriate to say. I realize it doesn't have to be a physical something, it's just thought, or continuing to think... something mindful...

LLL: I hadn't made any sort of performance in a while, & not at all here in NYC. Last year from late May to November I was in Europe — performing — and I was getting it, the travel, the preparation & the performance itself. The first one was a failure but I realized it was a failure because I gave up my own authority to a charismatic poet in the audience. I was going to sing a Blake song, and I asked a man I knew, knowing he was a Blakean scholar, I asked him to sing with me and he just took over. He didn't have any respect for me, my intentions, or my friend, who was accompanying as trombonist. The poet-performer was very angry with me. I then understood I could only do this work if it was also for me, if it was a work on myself & if I didn't rely on the male authority. After that things went very well. I went to the Island (Isla Margarita) thinking I would give it up — the performer’s life — I had finally learned how to do it, but then I had the vision of Raymond Foye, the editor of Hanuman Press. He is an editor of the great outsider poets... John Weiners and Bob Kaufman, a black Jewish poet. He worked with Gregory Corso, he was a force behind Allen's career as a photographer. He's an initiate. You should interview him! He could say no, but why not try…why not? (laughs).

L O'C: If there were one book, on poetry or poetics, what would you recommend, if you had to?

LLL: Ezra Pound — Spirit of Romance, one of the best books on poetry that I ever read. I think Raymond Foye was the one who told me about it. It's about European poetry in the medieval period, 12th century & onward. My editor (of RASA in Italy), Claudio Rugafiori, told me there was nothing else like it, that nothing like The Spirit of Romance had ever been written, where an entire tradition is resurrected — from its grave — and made to live again. The book made me cry, it is so beautiful. I know an editor of Ezra Pound's Radio Speeches. They were first published in the Netherlands (Cold turkey Press, Rotterdam, the 1970s). Gerard Bellaart, the publisher, now lives in France. A film maker I met in Italy. just a few years ago, was asked, by the RAI ( Italian Television) to make a film on The Economics of Ezra Pound. He told me that the whole affair – Pound’s Radio Speeches — was a set up. Pound, in the early 40's, an expatriate — was not that well known as a poet. No one really cared, none of the politicians, certainly, cared about Ezra Pound. It’s not like anyone was staying up nights listening to the tirades of an obscure poet, he was set up, then tortured. Once the film was made, the RAI refused to show it, except at bizarre hours like 4 in the morning.

L O'C: One of my favorite lines turned into a title is "In Dreams Begin Responsibilities" used as an epigraph by W.B. Yeats, and reconsidered as a short story by Delmore Schwartz. Could you comment on what you get from that line.

LLL: I have dreams in which dead poets come to me. I do feel a responsibility to these poets. They have given me instructions. I am allied to their realm and it's my responsibility to manifest its energies. Many are no longer alive — I must therefore encounter them in dream. In the years when most women make babies — I had many problems, on many levels, but now I'm strong. My poet friends are around my age and older — some of those closest to me are sick — I feel responsible to do what they can no longer do. I feel in a way our dreams are more indicative of our real state then our so called normal perception of ourselves & events... I want to make one last point to you as far as this session is concerned. I didn't read this anywhere but I think there is some relation between Mira Bai & the earlier Tantric (siddha) poets of East India and the poetic awakening discovered by Pound — elucidated & presented by him in The Spirit of Romance. You find very similar images in the tantra (lit. continuity, yogic schools in India, 8th – 12th AD & existing since beginningless time). Most people don't know the Tantric poets of India, but even Marie de France, I don't know if you know of her — she was an early French writer (see the Lais of Marie de France, Penguin books) seems to using such imagery, imagery already found in the Indian Tantric schools

L O'C: I love when images capture expression.

LLL: I was rereading Pound and Blake, I was rereading Kathleen Raine's work on Blake, she's a great woman scholar & a poet, now dead. I read a book called Blake In The New Age, it was so beautiful, and another Blake and Antiquity.

L O'C: It speaks to that line by Yeats because she wrote some books on him as well... yes, its true, it connects doesn't it?

When should we meet again?

Lauren O'Connor writes: "I’m a tattoo artist and lover of the image and poetry and meeting Louise and our strong bond has been one of the most incredible relationships formed to date for me. She is always far away but always with me. One of my greatest friends."
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