Other lessons by Porcaro available on YouTube. More about Porcaro here in Wikipedia.
At war with the utopia of modernity
Tibetans’ rage is directed not at communist rule, but the consumerist threat to their traditions and sacred lands.
Pankaj Mishra in The Guardian:
Last week many western commentators scrambling to interpret the protests in Lhasa found that they did not need to work especially hard. Surely the Tibetans are the latest of many brave peoples to rebel against communist totalitarianism? The rhetorical templates of the cold war are still close at hand, shaping western discussions of Islam or Asia. Dusting off the hoary oppositions between the free and unfree worlds, the Wall Street Journal declared that religious freedom was the main issue. “On the streets of Lhasa, China has again had a vivid demonstration of the power of conscience to move people to action against a soulless, and brittle, state.”
This is stirring stuff. Never mind that the rioters in Lhasa were attacking Han Chinese immigrants rather than the Chinese state, or that the Chinese authorities have been relatively restrained so far, one cautious step behind middle-class public opinion – which I sensed in China last week to be overwhelmingly against the Tibetan ethnic minority.
As for religious freedom, the Tibetans have had more of it in recent years than at any time since the cultural revolution. Eager to draw tourists to Tibet, Chinese authorities have helped to rebuild many of the monasteries destroyed by Red Guards in the 1960s and 70s, turning them into Disneylands of Buddhism. Tibet and Tibetan Buddhism have even inspired a counterculture among Chinese jaded by their new affluence.
More here.
How sperm and egg fuse into one
From Nature:
Boy meets girl. Sperm meets egg. Now, scientists are a step closer to understanding the climax of this eternal love story: how sperm and egg merge to create a brand new individual. “It’s really the defining moment in an organism,” says William Snell, a biologist at the University of Texas Southwestern Medical Center in Dallas, Texas, who headed one of the teams that made the find.
Snell, along with a group in Britain, discovered that a protein called HAP2 is involved with the fusion of egg and sperm, and found it in a wide range of species. As well as shedding new light on fertilization, the discovery opens up a possible new avenue to tackling parasite-carried diseases such as malaria: targeting HAP2 with drugs or vaccines could perhaps stop a parasite’s sex cells from consummating their union, preventing them from replicating.
More here.
God’s Workout
Virginia Heffernen in the New York Times Magazine:
The superfit walk among us. They saunter or strut, depending on whether they’re showcasing their magnificent agility or their oxlike strength. They ignore the chatter in the health media over treadmill technique and pedometer steps. They scoff even at seemingly rigorous practices like Mysore Ashtanga yoga and marathon training. They are America’s self-styled fitness elite, adherents of a punishing online exercise regime called CrossFit, which orders its followers to cultivate a distinctly martial — not to say paranoid — ideal of “physical preparedness.”
CrossFit has 450 chapters in 43 states (and several other countries). The network has a message for the merely healthy: “Your workout is our warm-up.” Every day, its members consult CrossFit.com like a Book of Common Prayer, receiving instructions for their workout rites and periods of rest. Performing caveman feats like hauling, clambering, trudging, snatching, hurling and deadlifting, CrossFitters deliberately overwhelm and distress their bodies, executing near-impossible stunts with as much weight as they can bear. A Workout of the Day, or W.O.D., might include 50 kettlebell swings, 3 800-yard dashes in rapid succession and 10 pull-ups. Then repeat. No breaks. No weight machines. All you need is a body built for discipline and a mind that can justify so much apparent self-abuse.
More here.
The Democratic death march
Noam Scheiber in The New Republic:
When Democrats contemplate the apocalypse these days, they have visions of Barack Obama and Hillary Clinton slugging it out à la Ted Kennedy and Jimmy Carter at the 1980 convention. The campaign’s current trajectory is, in fact, alarmingly similar to the one that produced that disastrous affair. Back then, Carter had built up a delegate lead with early wins in Iowa, New Hampshire, and several Southern states. But, as the primary season dragged on, Kennedy began pocketing big states and gaining momentum. Once all the voting ended and Kennedy came up short, he eyed the New York convention as a kind of Hail Mary.
Any candidate trailing at the convention must employ divisive tactics, almost by definition. For example, much of the bitterness in 1980 arose from the floor votes Kennedy engineered to drive a wedge between Carter and his delegates. At one point, Kennedy forced a vote on whether each state’s delegation should be split equally between men and women. Carter counted many feminists among his delegates, but the campaign initially opposed the measure so as to deny Kennedy a victory. “You had women who were with Jimmy Carter who were crying on the floor,” recalls Joe Trippi, then a young Kennedy organizer.
The Kennedy strategy worked both too well and not well enough.
More here.
Wednesday Poem
..
McFarland California
Amarjit ChandanPash lives here in the orchards
plums………………….apples……………………grapes
oranges……..apricots,
in the fields of wheat and cotton
The wind…the sun…..pigeons
the drowsy tractors
………………………….ask Pash:
tell us, what was it like as a child,
…………….and as a young man?When cotton balls bloom like
clusters of stars in your dreams
don’t you feel restless?When you remember the sun
sliding on the sand dunes in your village,
on the prison walls, in the dreams of the
sleeping prisoners, don’t you feel sad?Pash stays quiet.
On a nearby line
children’s clothes sway
in the afternoon sun.Poet Note: Pash: A Punjabi poet who lived in California in 1987
and was assassinated by Sikh fundamentalists in March 1988
in his home village in East Punjab.Photo: Amarjit Chandran
..
Tuesday, March 25, 2008
Does the Fault, Dear Reader, Lie Not in the Media Stars But In Ourselves?
Via Henry Farrell at Crooked Timber, Alex Tabarrok offers a reason as to why those who were right about the financial crisis and the Iraq war from the beginning get so little media attention, over at Marginal Revolution.
The answer is media incentives. It wasn’t just the experts who were wrong, the majority of the American people got Iraq and housing wrong. The war was popular in the beginning and people continued to buy houses even as prices rose ever higher. So what does the American public want to hear now?
The public wants to hear why they weren’t idiots. And who better to explain to the public why they weren’t idiots than experts who also got it wrong?
On Being Expelled from Expelled
Richard Dawkins and PZ Meyers discuss their trip to the screening of Ben Stein’s documentary defending intelligent design, Expelled.
Sean Carroll discusses the incident over at Cosmic Variance:
When Chris [Mooney] and Matt [Nisbet] talk to the PZ/Dawkins crowd, they do a really bad job of understanding and working within the presuppositions of their audience — exactly what framing is supposed to be all about. To the Framers, what’s going on is an essentially political battle; a public-relations contest, pitting pro-science vs. anti-science, where the goal is to sway more people to your side. And there is no doubt that such a contest is going on. But it’s not all that is going on, and it’s not the only motivation one might have for wading into discussions of science and religion.
There is a more basic motivation: telling the truth.
china via france
Even Paula Varsano, translator of In Praise of Blandness (2004), one of the several Jullien tomes expertly published by Zone Books, voices some of the concerns that arise in scrutinizing the corpus of this singular professor at the Université Paris Diderot and director of the Institut de la Pensée Contemporaine. “Recognized professionally as a sinologist,” writes Varsano in her preface, “Jullien has frequently and publicly asserted that he came to this field not out of a passion for things Chinese but out of a desire to gain a clearer perspective on the roots of his own tradition as found in Greek philosophy. He describes his lifelong foray into Chinese philosophy as a ‘never-ending detour.’” Varsano properly notes that Chinese thought provides Jullien with an ideal vantage from which to view the Western philosophical tradition from the outside, becauseWestern thought’s Indo-European syntax and etymology didn’t shape Chinese philosophy, Western civilization didn’t influence China until modern times, and the field abounds in classic texts that can be confronted directly.
more from Bookforum here.
halfness
ONE NIGHT SOME years ago, I tried to explain to my husband why it was that our future kids would be black kids. No matter how light or dark their skin turned out, no matter how coarse or cooperative their hair, chances were they would be black in the eyes of this racialized world, and I needed him to be prepared for that. So that they could be prepared for it.
He looked at me like I was crazy. Then he shot back, “They’re going to be half-white too, you know.” And as occasionally happens in our mixed-race marriage, I saw the canyon of America’s race divide open up between us, right there on the sofa. “There is no such thing as half-white,” I said, and I suddenly felt exhausted.
I am black; my husband is white. We live in a small town where llamas easily outnumber black people.
more from Boston Globe Ideas here.
A Chorus of Booze
In New Humanist, Toby Saul on Kingsley Amis’ defense of alcohol.
You can often hear alcohol being compared (unflatteringly) with other drugs. Usually along the lines of “Why do we kill ourselves and other people with legal alcohol, when we should be killing ourselves and other people with legal coke, MDMA, glue, whatever?” One answer might be that no other intoxicant has ever come close to gathering about itself such a weight and variety of cultural endeavour. Nor has any other drug succeeded in inspiring so many inventive and variegated ways to be mixed and presented to the enthusiast. Not even hashish, with its umpteen strains and baroque rituals, pipes and paraphernalia and assorted tat, has ever come within a whisker of evolving a similar deep-rooted cultural patrimony.
Amis proves this point with a bracingly comprehensive list of cocktails, though some will be of more practical use than others. There are handy recipes for imperishable classics such the Dry Martini, the Bloody Mary and the Old Fashioned, but why not get back to your Anglo-Saxon roots (if you possess them) with Cock Ale?
Foible of the Bees
Herbert Simon once said, “..in an information-rich world, the wealth of information means a dearth of something else: a scarcity of whatever it is that information consumes. What information consumes is rather obvious: it consumes the attention of its recipients. Hence a wealth of information creates a poverty of attention and a need to allocate that attention efficiently among the overabundance of information sources that might consume it.” Apparently, this also holds true for bees, in the NYT.
Much has been made about the waggle dance, a fox trot of sorts that foraging honeybees do to tell their hive mates when they have found a good food source. The dance — a zigzagging figure eight maneuver performed in the hive — provides cues as to the direction and distance of the trove of flowers so the other bees can locate it.
There is only one problem: Many bees seem to ignore the information. Instead, researchers in Argentina have found, the bees rely on their own memories of where to find food.
In addition to its waggle moves, which provide location information, a dancing bee carries the odor of the flowers it visited. And flower scents have a known effect on bees: if the insects haven’t been foraging for a few days, the scent spurs them to resume, often at a food source they have visited before.
So the question for Walter M. Farina of the University of Buenos Aires, with colleagues Christoph Grüter and M. Sol Balbuena, was what happens when the dance creates a conflict: The dancer provides information about a new location, but the flower odor reminds the watching bees about food that they remember is at another location. What do the watching bees do?
MoMA Has Designs
Our own Morgan Meis in The Smart Set:
It is not your father’s design exhibit! A design exhibit at MoMA 50 years ago would have been a study in restraint. This one, “Design and the Elastic Mind,” is more like a study in exuberance. It is also massive, essentially infinite, in scope. The entire known universe is now subject to design, from the molecular level to the deepest reaches of outer space to every aspect of our own bodies. This show, in its essence, is about the fact that we can design anything and everything. We merely have to think it and we can affect it, our ideas immediately become something we can activate and use.
This does raise one sticky question in the age-old tension between design and art. Ever since at least Kant, we’ve been told that one essential characteristic of art is its uselessness. Kant called the aesthetic realm the realm of “purposiveness without a purpose.” He meant that in aesthetics we get to explore the relationship between our ideas and what they actually produce without being held to account for it. That is the “play” of art. It’s the chance to experiment in that hazy zone between the world as it is given to us and the world as we project upon it. This sense of art as being free from the demands of use is also there in the art for art’s sake movement, and in much of 20th-century Modernism and the avant-garde. Modernism demanded to explore and solve problems in form purely for the reason that they were problems in form. “Art is art,” said Ad Reinhardt, “and everything else is everything else.” The 20th-century avant-garde wanted to monkey around at the limits of reason and sensibility for the sheer sake of it.
More here.
Bats Perish, and No One Knows Why
From The New York Times:
Al Hicks was standing outside an old mine in the Adirondacks, the largest bat hibernaculum, or winter resting place, in New York State. It was broad daylight in the middle of winter, and bats flew out of the mine about one a minute. Some had fallen to the ground where they flailed around on the snow like tiny wind-broken umbrellas, using the thumbs at the top joint of their wings to gain their balance. All would be dead by nightfall. Mr. Hicks, a mammal specialist with the state’s Environmental Conservation Department, said: “Bats don’t fly in the daytime, and bats don’t fly in the winter. Every bat you see out here is a ‘dead bat flying,’ so to speak.”
They have plenty of company. In what is one of the worst calamities to hit bat populations in the United States, on average 90 percent of the hibernating bats in four caves and mines in New York have died since last winter. Wildlife biologists fear a significant die-off in about 15 caves and mines in New York, as well as at sites in Massachusetts and Vermont. Whatever is killing the bats leaves them unusually thin and, in some cases, dotted with a white fungus. Bat experts fear that what they call White Nose Syndrome may spell doom for several species that keep insect pests under control. Researchers have yet to determine whether the bats are being killed by a virus, bacteria, toxin, environmental hazard, metabolic disorder or fungus. Some have been found with pneumonia, but that and the fungus are believed to be secondary symptoms.
More here.
Wired for Language
From Science:
We humans can do all sorts of things other animals can’t. Take language, for example–an ability researchers have long chalked up to our big and specialized brains. But size isn’t everything, according to a new study, which suggests that important changes in the brain’s wiring played a key role in language evolution. Back in the 19th century, neuroanatomists identified small regions of the human brain–such as Broca’s area in the frontal cortex and Wernicke’s area in the temporal cortex–and linked them to language. (Other, smaller-brained primates have regions that roughly correspond to these areas, but they appear to serve other functions.) More recently, scientists have found that language ability is not just isolated in discrete brain areas but requires close communication between them. For example, patients with damage to the brain’s arcuate fasciculus, which consists of multiple bundles of nerve fibers that connect Broca’s and Wernicke’s areas, have severe difficulty speaking and understanding others. And a number of recent studies suggest that the brains of humans are wired somewhat differently than those of other primates.
To see whether the arcuate fasciculus had been rewired over the course of human evolution, a team led by anthropologist James Rilling of Emory University in Atlanta, Georgia, turned to a relatively new technique called diffusion tensor imaging. The scans showed dramatic differences between humans and the other primates. Although the arcuate fasciculus in all three species was hooked up to the frontal cortex–including with Broca’s area in humans–only in humans did the arcuate fasciculus extend deeply into language-associated areas of the temporal cortex, such as Wernicke’s area. The authors conclude that the evolution of specialized language areas in the human brain was accompanied by the addition of major new wiring via the arcuate fasciculus. The net effect was that Wernicke’s area, which is associated with understanding word meaning, became strongly connected with Broca’s area, which plays an important role in the construction and understanding of sentences.
More here.
Defending Dictatorship: Another View on Pakistan
S. Abbas Raza in n + 1:
A military dictatorship is a military dictatorship, and a democracy is a democracy. And the latter is always automatically better than the former. It is safer to agree with this statement and to look at every particular complex political situation through the lens of this cliché than to risk having one’s liberal-democratic credentials questioned. But as a friend of mine once remarked, “All arguments for democracy in Pakistan are theoretical. For dictatorships, the greatest argument is the actual experience of Pakistani democracies.” Very similarly, another friend recently commented that “There are of course no theoretical arguments for a dictatorship, only practical ones.” In the case of Pakistan, the last two civilian democratic governments were sham democracies, and while I by no means support everything Pervez Musharraf has done, especially recently, there are various things for which his government deserves praise. Moreover, while George W. Bush may have gotten almost everything else wrong, his Pakistan policy has been basically sound.
More here.
Monday, March 24, 2008
Sounds of the Tides: Some Thoughts on Literature in the Vernacular
The late and much missed Sidney Morgenbesser used to say that the whole moral and intellectual dilemma posed by the universalism-particularism dichotomy was an uninteresting, if not false, one: to paraphrase Morgenbesser’s reasoning, we all come from a specific time and place, but we leave the world with more than what we were given by the circumstances of our origins. I think what he meant was that there really was neither much of a choice nor much of an opposition between the two.
“Universalism” and “particularism” largely refer to ways of conceptualizing or treating cultural others. Universalism insists that there is a set of invariant or at least common standards over how we treat others, or art, or (once upon a time) the good life, and by that extension, that there is a commonness or sameness behind all our differences. Moreover, it claims some priority over the differences. Perhaps most importantly, it provides a vantage point, the invariant and invariantly formulated universal one, for evaluating others.
“Particularism” has more formulations, probably owing to the fact that the opposition itself is untidy. The straw man formulation is of course some extreme cultural relativism. On occasion, it is taken to mean that while there may be common or universal truths or beauties, our local and contingent reasons and justifications are born of specific times and places, reasons and justification that may not “link up” with these truths and beauties, and thus we may not really be able to access them. More intelligently, it is taken to mean that while there may be common or universal truths or beauties, our local and contingent reasons and justifications are born of specific times and places, and thus our avenues to those truths or beauties are quite different. I will leave it to the philosophers at 3QD to sort out which if any is the truer or more useful formulation. This third formulation of particularism serves my purposes here.
In his basic formulation, I think Morgenbesser was right…save for the claim that the issue is an “uninteresting” one for at least two reasons. First, how our ethical and aesthetic judgments themselves become something more than things that reflect our original local contexts and experiences is surely interesting. Second, how we come to recognize this process of others reaching out to us in and through specific contexts, shaped by history, culture and power is surely important. 
While the terms have deep limits—the excessive tidiness of the either/or that seemed to irritate Morgenbesser, to name one—I was thinking of this opposition between universalism and particularism and Morgenbesser’s attitude towards it while reading my friend Dohra Ahmad’s recent anthology of literature in the various vernaculars of English, Rotten English. (But not in a David Brooks kind of way.) For all who love the diversity of the English language, I highly recommend the anthology. (The introduction can be found here.)
The volume comprises pieces in various vernaculars of the Scots, the Irish, the American South, Afro-America, American Latinos, the Caribbean, South Asia and its diasporas, to name the language of some of the works. In fact, the inclusion of Maori writer Patricia Grace and one of my favorite dub poets and musicians Linton Kwesi Johnson gives you a sense of how truly vast the formulations of the English language have become, how vast English has become. Ahmad points out that these explosions are for the most part the product of Empire, developed in the settler colonies of North America, South Africa, New Zealand and Australia, in trading colonies, such as South Asia, in the forced migrations of the slave trade and indentured servitude. English is, to use Chinua Achebe’s phrase, “the world language which history has forced down our throats.”
In one of Derek Walcott’s most celebrated poems “The Schooner Flight,” there are the following unforgettable lines:
I know these islands from Monos to Nassau,
a rusty head sailor with sea-green eyes
that they nickname Shabine, the patois for
any red nigger, and I, Shabine, saw
when these slums of empire was paradise.
I’m just a red nigger who love the sea,
I had a sound colonial education,
I have Dutch, nigger, and English in me,
and either I’m nobody, or I’m a nation.
The last four lines may be for Caribbean English what Huck Finn’s thunderclap, “All right, then, I’ll go to hell,” is for that of the American South: an assertion of the collective self as wrapped in the particularized language and the problematic history that produced it. But the last lines could easily also read “and either I’m nobody, or I’m a language” if only because of the way “English” hangs in the poem.
What Rotten English nicely captures is the fact that as much as the history of empire and the migrations it induced have interwoven English into the formations of new nations and peoples, they have also woven these peoples into the evolutions of the English language.
The anthology is divided into sections on poetry (if ever something reminds one that poetry at its heart is oral, it is poetry in the vernacular), short stories, excerpts from novels, largely bildungsromans, and essays on the development of dialect itself.
The structure of the anthology neatly folds in on itself. Many poems in the vernacular assert the fact of being composed in the vernacular itself. The Jamaican poet Louise Bennett’s “Bans O’Killing” lays the issue out: “Dah language weh yuh proud o’,/ Weh yuh honour and respeck,/ Po’ Mass Charlie! Yuh noh know sey/ Dat it spring from dialect!” (p. 48) As does, for that matter, the Scottish poet Tom Leonard in his “Unrelated Incidents—No. 3”: “thi reason/ a talk wia/BBC accent iz coz yi/widny wahnt/mi ti talk/about thi/trooth wia/voice lik/ wanna you/scruff…” (p. 78) The essays at the end of the volume assertively or matter of factly declare the legitimacy of the vernacular, at least for the most part. The spirit of James Baldwin’s “If Black English Isn’t a Language, What Is?” has always marked my readings of essays about language in the vernacular.
This bookended defense of the vernacular bounds a considerable variety of pieces that vary in origin, history, politics and purpose. Pushing Rudyard Kipling up against Linton Kwesi Johnson, and his “Inglan is a Bitch” no less, may seem to ask the anthology to do more than say the juxtaposing of Junot Diaz’s “The Brief Wondrous Life of Oscar Wao” to Rohinton Mistry’s “The Ghost of Firozsha Baag.” (So much of literature in the vernacular seems to be about the contingent development of the self.) But the effect is more productive that it would seem at first blush.
Responding to the vastness of the anthology’s scope, Amardeep Singh notes:
Ahmad also makes the intriguing choice to include African-American vernacular writers (Charles Chesnutt, Langston Hughes) as well as writing by Scottish (Robert Burns, Irvine Welsh) and Irish (Roddy Doyle) vernacular writers in the anthology. The great advantage of this is the way it suggests that “Rotten English” is not necessarily a new movement, per se, or strictly limited to “postcolonial” concerns. But such inclusiveness also raises a question of historical relevance: what does it really mean to link a poet like Robert Burns to, say, Louise Bennett? The historical circumstances that lead Bennett to emphatically proclaim her affinity for Jamaican patois (“Dah language weh yuh proud o’,/Weh yu honour and respeck,” but, at the same time, the truth is “Dat it it spring from dialect!”) aren’t really the same as those that animate Burns’ writing poems like “Highland Mary”.
I’m not so sure. It always seemed to me that there is in most if not all literatures in the vernacular, for lack of a better phrase, an intended audience that included others than the speakers of the vernacular. I say this because as much as the enterprise of a vernacular literature may be steps in the self-aware expressions of new peoples and cultures, they are addressed to others. The very orthography of much of the literature underlines this fact. When I read Patrick White, I don’t hear an Australian accent. I assume that Australians do. And I assume that were Kwesi’s “Inglan is bitch/dere’s no escapin it” written out “England is a bitch/there’s no escaping it,” a Londonite speaker of the West Indian vernacular would hear it and sound it out the same way. The rest of us would not. Robert Burns’ or Zora Neale Hurston’s or Gautam Malkani’s spellings of the vernacular surely direct non-speakers of the vernacular to its specific sounds.
How we understand and judge—make no mistake, the debate is about judgment—a cultural other’s ethical and, to a lesser extent, aesthetic orientations is complicated by this notion of the “vernacular” and the literature in it. For the vernacular in this instance addresses others and asks to be heard by others and even accepts in some ways being judged by others but in its own formulations. In this way, it complicates and undoes the crude dichotomy that Morgenbesser found uninteresting.
Perhaps more importantly, it is at once a demand for recognition, an invitation to equal dialogue, and a request for understanding across differences, not that this is all there is to the enterprise. The mixes of the elements may vary over time, as surely the historical circumstances behind them do, but I do think that this reach to communicate with Others (capital O) even as it re-forms the community in the language ties these disparate pieces in a crucial way, one that suggests a way to talk across circumstances and cultures without dismissing their specificities. The book is, in the words of Junot Diaz, an “X-ray of English.” But Rotten English also teaches us how to listen and not merely to the sounds of a language.
Monday Poem
..
“We’ll fight them there so we won’t have to fight them here,
regardless of innocents.” —a patriot.From the Same Root
—the prayer paradox
Jim CullenyThe French call a wound a blessure;
but a blessure sent by God
might be be a blessing
for all we know. If so,
couldn’t a blessing be a blessure?Certainly. Depending upon
who’s the wounded one,
him or me.If it’s him,
I call it a blessing
(as when I’m the only one alive
after a bombing);
but for him my blessing
is nothing but a
goddam lethal blessure.French or not,
blessing or blessure,
this has been a norm of history,
down through the ages.Our eternal
deja vu du jour...
perceptions: of landscape
Sunday, March 23, 2008
ernest hemingway blogs about the top teams in college basketball
North Carolina Tar Heels
Roy Williams is soft. His hands look manicured. They have never pulled tobacco from the dirt. He has never gutted a fish fresh from the sea. Soldiers shoot soft men in the back rather than follow them into battle. Williams should look out. He should watch his back. But junior forward Tyler Hansbrough is a 2-ton bull in baby-blue shorts. When he broke his nose last year, he saw red. He charged. His horns went down and gored opposing players. I would fight with this man. I would die for him. If a bullet met him, I would cradle his head till he left this earth. After the platoon’s soldiers shoot Roy Williams in the back, they’ll follow Sergeant Hansbrough into combat. Hansbrough and UNC charge to the Elite Eight.
more from McSweeney’s here.