Kryptech's Writings

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Kryptech's Writings

Postby kryptech » Tue Jul 12, 2005 10:10 am

Writing is so cool! To take ideas that exist only in one's mind and put them down so they can be shared with others - what a great plan! :thumb:

Anyway, I have written a few things over the years and I figured, hey, why not post a few here. Maybe some people will find them interesting, or offer positive suggestions on how I could impove, or even just get a good laugh at my expense. ß-)

------
OK, the first is a poem I wrote about the fight and race of the Christian life.


Marathon
Chris M. Sissons
y2002m01d05

It's not an easy thing to be
a traveller on the side that's free
and run our race in this dark world.

So many snares and traps about,
they are designed to take us out
of the straight way to other paths.

The foes we war against are three:
the devil, the world, the flesh they be.
Our old nature still speaks loudly.

It seems we push against the flow;
those on the dark side try to tow
us with them down the road they take.

And yes, so often we do fall
by listening to temptation's call
to do, or say, or think what's wrong.

How can we win against such force?
On our own we'd loose of course.
But our leader is One Who won.

Our Saviour walked this earth below.
He faced the trials through which we go,
Though He never yielded to sin.

The God Who laid the course we tread
will be with us as He has said,
and lead us to the finish line.
"Everybody's weird in their own special way." - P.V.
"Never refuse a breath mint." - my dad
"The UAC is making safer worlds through superior firepower." - Doom 3
"This world is a great sculptor's shop. We are the statues and there is a rumour going round the shop that some of us are some day going to come to life." - C.S. Lewis, Mere Christianity

"I'm too cool to scroll. -- MOES."
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Postby Icarus » Tue Jul 12, 2005 10:19 pm

Nice poem. The format is good, but the last line seems as though it's been cut short. You may want to check that out.

There was one other thing. You went AAB CCD. Have you ever done AAB CCB, or anything like that?
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Postby kryptech » Wed Jul 13, 2005 9:34 am

Icarus wrote:Nice poem. The format is good, but the last line seems as though it's been cut short. You may want to check that out.

There was one other thing. You went AAB CCD. Have you ever done AAB CCB, or anything like that?

Thanks for the feedback. By the last line, do you mean the final line: "and lead us to the finish line."? I'm generally a stickler for meter (or whatever that's called) so each of the lines have 8 syllables. But sometimes the flow can suffer because of that rigidity. Perhaps this is a case of that - "finish" is two syllables but is said more as one...

Concerning the AAB CCD rhyming scheme, yep, I've written other stuff with a different setup. Perhaps one of the other poems I'll post will have another rhyming scheme.
"Everybody's weird in their own special way." - P.V.
"Never refuse a breath mint." - my dad
"The UAC is making safer worlds through superior firepower." - Doom 3
"This world is a great sculptor's shop. We are the statues and there is a rumour going round the shop that some of us are some day going to come to life." - C.S. Lewis, Mere Christianity

"I'm too cool to scroll. -- MOES."
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The Prison

Postby kryptech » Fri Jul 15, 2005 6:33 pm

Righty-o. Here is a short story I wrote. The ending came to me first and so I thought it would be kinda interesting to build to that. I was inspired by reading some of Poe's work, particularily The Pit and the Pendulum.

------
The Prison

Chris M. Sissons
y2002m05

It was a nightmare come true. Darkness always gave me a certain chill of apprehension and I had never been in darkness like this. I swept my gaze around wildly, vainly trying to catch even the faintest ray of light. There was nothing, nothing but heavy blackness pressing in at me from all sides. A darkness I could feel, almost hear, yet the scuffing of my feet on the unseen floor, (it felt as if I were inside), sounded far-off and dull in my ears. I could not see to move yet I longed to run as fast as I could; to somehow escape the void. "What forsaken place is this?" my mind questioned in despair. How did I find myself here?

The last memory I had was of me sprinting through a field with three members of the oppressive Governmental Security Agency not far behind. After over five years of eluding their vast networks it had come down to this. I had experienced close calls before but this time escape looked hopeless. I was upon a border of trees at the edge of the field when I heard a low hum. My body suddenly ceased to obey my mind's commands and the field's furrowed surface rushed up at me. All faded to black and when I awoke, all was still black.

I decided I could not just remain standing here; I must search for the answers to where I was. Carefully I made my way forward by sliding my feet along the smooth surface I stood on. I felt prickles tingling on my back but if I kept turning around I'd never get far in any one direction. Doggedly I kept my legs moving me ahead while my senses strained to detect anything lurking behind me.

Then I heard it; the distinct sound of someone, something, drawing a breath. This was too much for me and I spun around, trying to be prepared for anything. Tensely I waited for another sound so I could place its source. After over a minute, (which seemed many times longer), the same slow, laboured inhaling and exhaling came to me, but from behind! I swung around again and listened, wishing I would hear nothing yet wanting to locate the unseen thing that haunted me. When the breath sounded again is was from a third angle. Terror welled up in me! Was I being stalked by three beings or only one but that could move so silently around me?

In panic I shouted out. My cry seemed to come from somewhere outside of myself and was strangely warped and distorted which heightened my fear. There was no response nor was there an echo which eluded to the fact that I was in a vast open area. I had no idea what other spectres were out there. I began stumbling blindly forward.

My mind conjured up an array of ghastly sounds and images as fear pushed me on. I had been moving for a length of time I can't accurately define when my hair brushed against something above. Instantly I dropped down and shielded my head with my arms. I heard no movement, however, and so I stood cautiously. A second time my hair contacted some material. I reached up and my fingers met with a cold, sharp blade. With care I traced my fingers along the edge and felt that it had a square end at the bottom about a decimeter wide and the rest extended upwards beyond my reach. A cool breeze descended from above giving me the impression that the object was some immense sword having the end of the blade chopped off and hanging from a ceiling infinitely far up.

This idea startled me and I quickly moved out from under the object. I had just begun shuffling forward when my foot painfully collided with something solid. When I inspected it I learned with horror that it was another blade, but this one reached down to the floor. Moving even slower I started off in a different direction and before getting far I was knocked backwards by a stinging blow to the side of my head. I touched the injured spot and realized I was bleeding slightly. As I tried to stand, my arm above my head bumped into a cold, sharp edge! It was as stationary as the others I had located but the last impact seemed as if it were produced by the force of movement.

In my mind's eye I beheld myself standing in a room of unfathomable size with those hideously long blades stretching down everywhere. Some were still; others glided silently across the expanse. Or perhaps worse! Blades that were motionless could spontaneous engage themselves and then halt at any time.

What was I to do but continue my trek? Every so often I encountered blades at various heights, all quite solid and steady. Thrice more I was struck by blades that must of have been moving though each did not appear to be upon inspection. The perpetual uncertainty of what time the next attack would fall filled me with an unbearable anxiety. Despite the cool air, sweat formed on my forehead.

Suddenly I saw it! Ever since I had come to this place my eyes had been useless. I had seen nothing but the thick blackness that pressed upon me. This fact seared the image all the more into my mind - the image of a huge, staring eye. It was many times my height and far off. The shape was almost perfectly round and had a ghastly white pallor. A small pupil floated in the center with spidery red lines snaking away from it to the edges. I felt the eye single me out amidst the array of blades which I could see hanging motionless between myself and the pale glare. The sight lasted only a fraction of a second but it froze my blood. Darkness again covered me but still for some time after the horror of the image flashed upon me whenever I blinked my eyes.

These were but the first of the terrors I experienced. The realization of the passage of time faded away as I wandered blindly through this black place. Fears became reality and reality was a nightmare. At times I felt the presence of creatures near by or heard their chilling cries. Once the floor suddenly began to tilt and I slid down it towards the source of a constant high-pitched howl. I found myself on a different occasion in a tunnel whose cylindrical walls were composed of a mass of crawling ribbons covered with a filthy ooze through which I had to claw my way out of when the passage constricted about me. Then also I fell into a room filled with massive rotating gears that caught me numerous times and threatened to grind me to powder. I escaped from one torture only to run into another.
"Everybody's weird in their own special way." - P.V.
"Never refuse a breath mint." - my dad
"The UAC is making safer worlds through superior firepower." - Doom 3
"This world is a great sculptor's shop. We are the statues and there is a rumour going round the shop that some of us are some day going to come to life." - C.S. Lewis, Mere Christianity

"I'm too cool to scroll. -- MOES."
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Postby kryptech » Fri Jul 15, 2005 6:35 pm

...and continued....

------
Then as I was stumbling along, I put my left foot down to find that it did not meet with any surface. Caught completely off balance I pitched sideways! Frantically I reached out for anything to stop my fall and fortunately I grasped the edge of the floor on which I had been walking. My hands strained to hold on as my body swung forward and I braced my feet to collide against the drop-off's face. Surprisingly the surface I fell from had nothing beneath it. I rocked back and forth and eventually stopped. Heights had always terrified me and I had no idea what distance the ground was below me, if there was a ground. I managed to reach up and get my left arm onto the floor I hung from. To my shock I felt it was only a few decimeters wide with a drop-off on the other side. As the fingers on my left hand curled around the far edge I noticed that the width of the surface was shrinking. It had become just two decimeters across and the more I pulled in order to get back onto the floor, the narrower the surface became! Soon it was so thin that my two hands were gripping on the same edge. Then by degrees it faded smaller and smaller until it was the thickness of a wire and cut into my tired fingers. At the point where I could hold on no longer, that wire itself dematerialized and I plunged downwards.

My stomach twisted sickeningly and my limbs flailed about vainly searching for anything besides air. But it was hopeless. I felt the wind rushing up at my face and wondered where I was falling to. Suddenly a stunning idea came to me! What if this was the exit, the way out of this unbearable place? I gazed down and fancied that the air blowing past came from the exit and that I could see faint light below! But then another thought entered my mind; one that appalled me. What good would it do if this were the exit? I would not survive this plummet. I would finally escape this nightmare only to die! That could not happen; anything but that! The light grew closer and it was real! Dread took hold on my whole being and I shrieked "No, no, NO!"

The light exploded into me. A tremendous jolt tore through my frame and then I realized I had stopped falling. I didn't think I was dead. Where was I? The radiancy around me faded away I could see I was lying in a reclined chair. My body was stiff because of the shock I had experienced and my whitened fingers were locked around the edge of the chair. As my mind cleared I look around and saw similar chairs on either side and in front of me. Each one held a still occupant and there were a large number of them in the dimly lit room I was in.

When I moved my head I felt something brush against the back of it. My fingers ran over the spot and located several thin wires that were connected to small metal disks stuck onto my scalp. They detached easily and I sat up. There was no sign of life and no sound other than a low hum. I was trying to reason what the room was all about when I heard voices and footsteps coming down a hall connected to the room. I felt apprehensive and ducked behind another chair to observe. A man and a woman wearing white lab coats entered and when they spotted my empty chair both gave an exclamation and ran off. In the ensuing confusion I began my flight.

It was a harrowing exit but my will to be free triumphed in the end and so I can now relay this tale. I never heard anything more of this research complex which I am sure was instituted by Governmental Security Agency and I have never been able to find the building again. All I could conclude was that the dark nightmare I lived through was constructed by a machine that could read my worst fears and weave them into a reality that it fed to my brain. I had broken free by fearing that I had found the exit; the mechanism read this and made my fear come true. I wonder if anyone else trapped there has ever escaped that machine. After all, what prison is more secure than one in which your mind is the guard?
"Everybody's weird in their own special way." - P.V.
"Never refuse a breath mint." - my dad
"The UAC is making safer worlds through superior firepower." - Doom 3
"This world is a great sculptor's shop. We are the statues and there is a rumour going round the shop that some of us are some day going to come to life." - C.S. Lewis, Mere Christianity

"I'm too cool to scroll. -- MOES."
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Sweet Sadness

Postby kryptech » Wed Sep 07, 2005 6:38 pm

Um, ya, so I've not posted anything in this thread in ages, contrary to what I'd planned. Anyway...

------
Back in August I spent a week at a cottage with lots of relatives - heaps o' fun! One evening, however, I snuck away from the group gathered around the evening fire. I felt like being alone and decided to try to express the odd mood that had taken hold on me. The result:

Sweet Sadness
by Chris M. Sissons
Written y2005m08d16

Alone in the crowd.
Wilingly alienated.
So I slip away
Like a shadow
Noticed by none.

Shouts and laughter
Linger outside
But I do not.
Silently I tread
The darkened hallway.

Despondancy -
It creeps within.
Not unwelcome
Nor fully embraced.
Facinating.

Dull eyes, blank face
A visage devoid
Awaiting a spark.
This grim moment
Will perish soon.
"Everybody's weird in their own special way." - P.V.
"Never refuse a breath mint." - my dad
"The UAC is making safer worlds through superior firepower." - Doom 3
"This world is a great sculptor's shop. We are the statues and there is a rumour going round the shop that some of us are some day going to come to life." - C.S. Lewis, Mere Christianity

"I'm too cool to scroll. -- MOES."
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Postby Linksquest » Wed Sep 07, 2005 9:43 pm

I read both of your poems and i will read your story when i get more time! lol. I really like how you had the meter'ed poem as your first submission and then you had the free-verse as your second. I really think the second one captured the emotion that you were having at the time. It was raw with emotion, and the words did not get in the way of describing your feeling.

The first poem i thought was pretty well done and planned out. Your images and comparisons were great in that one. The only thing that you could change is at the bottom of the sixth verse you have the double rhyme: "But our leader is One Who won." That sort of through me off of the ryhme scheme.

I think that you are a promising writer! Keep it up!

If you would like to see some of my stuff i have my short stories and poems in different threads, lol.

Short Stories: http://www.christiananime.com/showthread.php?t=18643&page=1&highlight=stories

Poems:http://www.christiananime.com/showthread.php?t=19209
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Postby kryptech » Thu Sep 08, 2005 6:53 am

Personally I tend towards meter'ed style, because of my orderly nature. Although I do like rap, and that tends to be rather unmeter'ed... Hmm.

Thanks for the comments and suggestions! I'll try to check out some of your stuff, when I get the time, as well.
"Everybody's weird in their own special way." - P.V.
"Never refuse a breath mint." - my dad
"The UAC is making safer worlds through superior firepower." - Doom 3
"This world is a great sculptor's shop. We are the statues and there is a rumour going round the shop that some of us are some day going to come to life." - C.S. Lewis, Mere Christianity

"I'm too cool to scroll. -- MOES."
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Postby Kaori » Fri Sep 16, 2005 11:29 pm

I have been meaning to take a closer look at this thread for a while but not had time to do so. Since I wasn’t around when you originally posted it, and no one else has commented on it, I’ll confine my remarks to your short story.

My initial reaction was that the story reads like a dream scene; some of the elements, like being surrounded by unseen and possibly malignant creatures, appear in nightmares not infrequently. I can also see how it was inspired by “The Pit and the Pendulumâ€
Let others believe in the God who brings men to trial and judges them. I shall cling to the God who resurrects the dead.
-St. Nikolai Velimirovich

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Postby kryptech » Sat Sep 17, 2005 10:45 am

Thank you for your comments, Kaori. I've enjoyed your posts in uc pseudonym's Era fanfic and I'm honoured that you visited my humble thread. ß-)

Yes, the idea of being trapped in a generated reality isn't all that original. It seems many of my story ideas include some sort of mental alteration or ability. I must have brains on the brain...
"Everybody's weird in their own special way." - P.V.
"Never refuse a breath mint." - my dad
"The UAC is making safer worlds through superior firepower." - Doom 3
"This world is a great sculptor's shop. We are the statues and there is a rumour going round the shop that some of us are some day going to come to life." - C.S. Lewis, Mere Christianity

"I'm too cool to scroll. -- MOES."
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Here's To You Girls

Postby kryptech » Sat Sep 24, 2005 12:03 pm

Just the other night I felt the urge to write a poem of encouragement for girls, concerning some specific cause. What got my mind thinking in that direction was a little blurb in the sig one of the members here (perhaps Angelchick...?) saying something to the tune of "Here's to the girls whose fingers bleed from learning guitar but they did it anyway and proved people wrong that said they couldn't and so those girls are cool." The original text was way catchier though, and it made me want to write some pump-your-fist-in-the-air stuff too. After thinking for a bit I hit on the idea of advocating and championing (is that a word?) those girls today who strive to dress in a modest fashion in today's society which is constantly forcing the limits of clothing (or lack thereof).

Edit - This aforementioned blurb is from "Anthem" by Superchic[k]. You can read the lyrics here.

------
Here's to You Girls
Chris M. Sissons
y2005m09d22

Here's to the girls who walk for miles
Through rows and rows of clothing aisles
Whose eyes pick out the modest styles.

They don't dress by what's called "in".
But firmly stand amidst the din
Of billboards advertising skin.

Here's to the girl who turns her nose
At spray-on pants and shrink-wrap clothes.
"I'll never squeeze in one of those!"

With thoughtfulness they realize
Showy dressing tempts the eyes
And won't attract the best of guys.

Here's to the girls, who if in doubt,
Ask for their dads' reviews about
Their new outfit when stepping out.

Attire of grace and modesty
Displays a beauty all can see.
Here's to you girls, with praise from me.
"Everybody's weird in their own special way." - P.V.
"Never refuse a breath mint." - my dad
"The UAC is making safer worlds through superior firepower." - Doom 3
"This world is a great sculptor's shop. We are the statues and there is a rumour going round the shop that some of us are some day going to come to life." - C.S. Lewis, Mere Christianity

"I'm too cool to scroll. -- MOES."
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Postby Kaori » Sun Sep 25, 2005 10:24 pm

kryptech wrote:What got my mind thinking in that direction was a little blurb in the sig one of the members here (perhaps Angelchick...?) saying something to the tune of "Here's to the girls whose fingers bleed from learning guitar but they did it anyway and proved people wrong that said they couldn't and so those girls are cool."

I've heard that song before; unfortunately, I don't know who it is by.

Your poem expresses an admirable sentiment--it is encouraging to know that there are guys who appreciate modest dressers. Thank you for sharing this with us.
Let others believe in the God who brings men to trial and judges them. I shall cling to the God who resurrects the dead.
-St. Nikolai Velimirovich

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Postby kryptech » Thu Jun 15, 2006 10:18 am

OK, so it has been ages since I last posted anything in this thread. I hereby nullify any implied idea that I'll add new stuff here regularily. ß-)

Anywho... Here is a song I wrote after hearing a sermon on Jeremiah 6. I've got a bit of the tune formed in my head (hard rock) and I've got a plan of the vocal dynamics (which I've indicated with italics). It isn't that long but I thought I'd post it anyway.

------

The Words That Healed the Hurt Slightly
by Chris M. Sissons
Based on Jer. 6:14-20
y2005m08d16

Verse 1:
Make your request / old paths and true / walk in their way / There find your rest

Chorus:
[screamed]
But no! / [shouted] "Peace, peace" while the shells rain down / turn up the music to drown out the sound / of corruption mouldering all around

Verse 2:
See the watchmen / they cry, they plead / [screamed] "Doom marches nigh / you must listen!"

Chorus

Verse 3:
[quietly, grimly]
Thus says the LORD / "Since you reject / My law, therefore / now taste the sword."

Chrous

Bridge: [builds from quiet to screaming]
[first voice]
Fingers in your ears / [second voice] you're so unheeding
[first voice] Fingers in your ears / [second voice] to stop the bleeding
[first voice] You're casting aside / [second voice] the rest you're needing
[first voice] Stumbling down the path / [second voice] where's it leading?

[shouted] You are unashamed, apathetic, and proud of it / You are, and I am, apathetic / pathetic

Verse 1 again [quietly, smoothly, music fading away]
"Everybody's weird in their own special way." - P.V.
"Never refuse a breath mint." - my dad
"The UAC is making safer worlds through superior firepower." - Doom 3
"This world is a great sculptor's shop. We are the statues and there is a rumour going round the shop that some of us are some day going to come to life." - C.S. Lewis, Mere Christianity

"I'm too cool to scroll. -- MOES."
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Right Hand of Offense

Postby kryptech » Fri Sep 15, 2006 7:02 am

Right Hand of Offense
By Chris M. Sissons
y2006m09d04

Note - this could be considered a bit gruesome.

A while back I was reading a book that compared Jesus' teaching in Matt. 5:29-30 ("if your right hand causes you to sin, cut it off and cast it from you;") to a story of a man whose hand was trapped by a rock out in the wilderness. He was forced to cut off his own hand in order to escape. You can see a partial account here (sorry - I couldn't find a more complete story).

Anyways, this inspired me to write a song (well, I don't have a tune yet) using the analogy of being trapped by one's right hand, and that hand representing one's sinful nature. "Killing" the sinful nature is tough stuff but we've gotta be brutal. The song style would probably be along the lines of Project 86 (think "A Shadow on Me" mixed with "Spy Hunter"). As for the ending, well, ya, that could be adjusted as necessary. Here goes:


[verse 1]

Scorched
As here I lie / trapped under the endless glare of bronze sky (as here I die).
Unfulfilled thirst. / The grit of sand between my teeth belies, (the end is nigh),
the stinging fact - / I've dug my grave in this mirage.
Candied concrete / exerts increasing weight, a sickly sweet barrage.

Crushed
Grasping digits, / my right hand clutches razor blades of gold, (riches untold?)
now crushed beneath / the jeweled border sitting where it's rolled, (it's toxic mould).
With all my might / I try to free my hand from 'neath the treasure.
My grip's too tight, / my knuckles white - the last resort is drastic measure.


[prechorus]
This wayward hand will be the death of me.

[chorus]
Your list of offenses grows long, / oh, right hand.
I've suffered your treason too long, / oh, right hand.
It's either you or my life / and I'm choosing the knife -
best maimed than cast whole to the pit / oh, right hand.


[verse 2]

Dear
These many years / it seems I've grown quite attached to you, (oh yes, it's true).
Your crafty ways / have reaped me plastic smiles, not a few. (But now we're through.)
The pile's high, / the mass of this ill-gotten waste has grown.
I can't deny - / this once was glee which now grinds down on bone.

Choose
This weight besets, / a trap that locks me in this desert land (of burning sand).
My options are: / die here or leave this place and my right hand. (Heed the command.)
From sheath to wrist / the blade is poised to end this reign of sin.
The flesh's screams / are soon cut off as metal bites through skin.


[prechorus]
This wayward hand I cast away from me.

[chorus]

[bridge]
Lord, grant me strength to sever the old man.
This pain will hurt him worse than it will me.
Lord, guide the knife according to your plan.
Starve the old, feed the new.
Leave what's died, abide in You.

[chorus]

This wayward hand won't be the death of me! [x3]
This wayward hand I cast away from me.
"Everybody's weird in their own special way." - P.V.
"Never refuse a breath mint." - my dad
"The UAC is making safer worlds through superior firepower." - Doom 3
"This world is a great sculptor's shop. We are the statues and there is a rumour going round the shop that some of us are some day going to come to life." - C.S. Lewis, Mere Christianity

"I'm too cool to scroll. -- MOES."
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Postby kryptech » Fri Sep 29, 2006 6:16 am

I've posted a short story, Time's River, in its own thread - http://www.christiananime.net/showthread.php?t=37170
"Everybody's weird in their own special way." - P.V.
"Never refuse a breath mint." - my dad
"The UAC is making safer worlds through superior firepower." - Doom 3
"This world is a great sculptor's shop. We are the statues and there is a rumour going round the shop that some of us are some day going to come to life." - C.S. Lewis, Mere Christianity

"I'm too cool to scroll. -- MOES."
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