Off The Air?

Perhaps you've heard this story.

A Marine joins a class room and the professor stupidly calls to the heavens at the beginning of class, “God, if you are real, then I want you to knock me from this platform. I'll give you exactly 15 minutes.” Time passes as the class room remains silent. “Here I am, God. I'm still waiting.”

Allow me to interrupt for a moment. I completely admit I choose this story to badger my producer, Tom Wits, a Born again Baptist who may not agree with what you say and fight to repeal your right to say it. Let that be known, fore he may enjoy this story, but it comes with a hefty moral at the end from your beloved radical agnostic. Continuing.

The time comes down to the wire and no lighting nor stormy wind has tumbled the professor. Finally, the marine arises, approaches the man, and socks him hard in the mouth, knocking him from the platform. He then, silently, returns to his seat and a stunned class room.

Eventually, the professor comes to and asks, “What did you do that for?”

The Marine responds, “God was too busy protecting American soldiers who protect your right to say stupid stuff and act like an idiot. He sent me.” And the class room cheers.

The moral I give of this tale is that arguments are best solved through the use of violence and bold unfair strokes across the mouth.

Last night, the show covered the first question about what Springhill thought of the TSA pat downs and possible invasion of privacy. This lead, for one reason or another, to the question of weather or not the War On Terror was an American holy war. Soon after the question arose, we were cut off. I didn't even get to invite people to Mina's Movie Club. The reason given was that I might offend the proper good church-going community with my questioning of what is obviously a touchy matter. You know, those church-go'ers who stay up until three in the morning.

I argue that if not a talk radioshow, where else would one gleen the oppinions of the insomniac college community, but, no, I'm on probation or whatever it's called when you're knocked off your platform by a marine. It's not like I asked God to do it. So, Mr. Wits, supporter of troops, but not discussion there of, I present to you this prayer I found in a holy book of my own.

"You have heard your servant's prayer -- the uttered part of it. I am commissioned of God to put into words the other part of it -- that part which the pastor -- and also you in your hearts -- fervently prayed silently. And ignorantly and unthinkingly? God grant that it was so! You heard these words: 'Grant us the victory, O Lord our God!' That is sufficient. The *whole* of the uttered prayer is compact into those pregnant words. Elaborations were not necessary. When you have prayed for victory you have prayed for many unmentioned results which follow victory--*must* follow it, cannot help but follow it. Upon the listening spirit of God fell also the unspoken part of the prayer. He commandeth me to put it into words. Listen!

"O Lord our Father, our young patriots, idols of our hearts, go forth to battle -- be Thou near them! With them -- in spirit -- we also go forth from the sweet peace of our beloved firesides to smite the foe. O Lord our God, help us to tear their soldiers to bloody shreds with our shells; help us to cover their smiling fields with the pale forms of their patriot dead; help us to drown the thunder of the guns with the shrieks of their wounded, writhing in pain; help us to lay waste their humble homes with a hurricane of fire; help us to wring the hearts of their unoffending widows with unavailing grief; help us to turn them out roofless with little children to wander unfriended the wastes of their desolated land in rags and hunger and thirst, sports of the sun flames of summer and the icy winds of winter, broken in spirit, worn with travail, imploring Thee for the refuge of the grave and denied it -- for our sakes who adore Thee, Lord, blast their hopes, blight their lives, protract their bitter pilgrimage, make heavy their steps, water their way with their tears, stain the white snow with the blood of their wounded feet! We ask it, in the spirit of love, of Him Who is the Source of Love, and Who is the ever-faithful refuge and friend of all that are sore beset and seek His aid with humble and contrite hearts. Amen.”

-The War Prayer, by Mark Twain.

What's School Like?

Kagy: There is a subtle wind caressing the campus, tonight. It is the breath of the freshmen, in all their confusion, and the breath of the teachers in their anticipation of new minds to conform. School started today, Springhill, and the energy was noticeable. How are you doing tonight, new comers? You're listening to In the Red with me, Kagy. If this is your first show all you need to know is our phone number. [listed off number that I'm not dumb enough to repeat on the internet]. Normally I begin with a question, but seeing how this is your first night in school, I declare this a free day. Call me about whatever is on your mind, Freshmen. First, however, let's begin with a little 'Processing.'

--The Last Express, by Vernian Process

Kagy: I see only a few lights on my board tonight. Are my regulars feeling timid among the new meat? Caller one, what do you think?

Caller 1: Hey, Kagy. Long time caller, first time listener. I'm coming out from OKC and I've never heard of this show. Usually I'm listening to the KATT. Any suggestions for someone new to the town?

Kagy: Yes, don't believe the hype. Inuit Bob's Bar and Grill is worthless. Except for the onion rings. Also, one street over from “The Strip” is Black's Bar. Avoid it on Friday nights. Every other night is fine.

Caller 1: The strip?

Kagy: Oh, you'll be familiar with the Strip soon enough. Good luck One. [click] Number Two, are you ready?

Caller 2: What? Huh? Oh, it's one-o-five.

Kagy: What?

Caller 2: Huh?

Kagy: You called me, Two.

Caller 2: Not yet. It's one-o-six, now.

Kagy: I see. [click] Caller three, how'est is thee?

Caller 3: Hey, is this where I call for advice?

Kagy: Depends on your problem, Three.

Caller 3: Yeah, I was almost run over by a bike outside the Student Center. Does no one watch out for pedestrians here?

Kagy: Ha ha, common sense? You're funny. No, expect to suffer tire marks if you stand anywhere near the bike paths around here.

Caller 3: And the crows?

Kagy: Don't feed them.

Caller 3: I didn't have to. They were attacking me!

Kagy: Oh. Right, I forgot to tell you, Freshmen everywhere. Do not keep any kind of muffins on you while on campus. Bread is fine, but muffin's, even if kept in a container, will attract the unwanted attention of crows. And no, we don't understand why. [click] Caller four, what do you adore?

Caller 4: I am not a number, I am a free man!

Kagy: For our purposes, you are number four.

Caller 4: I will not be pushed, filed, stamped, briefed, debriefed, or numbered! My life is my own.

Kagy: For all official purposes, everyone has a number.

Caller 4: Who are you?

Kagy: I am number two.

Caller 4: Who is number one?

Kagy: You are number six.

Caller 4: Ha! Alright, I know when I'm beat. Any place around here one can get a good bit of RP?

Kagy: Look for the Rawhide Rollplayers at the Student Center at night. Usually on Saturdays.

Caller 4: Thanks. [click]

Kagy: Ooo, I forgot to tell him not to piss them off. They're kind of like the Springhill Mafia. Caller five, are you still al-...wait a second. I'm out of callers. David, what's going on out there? [sound of David shrugging] Well, we have time until the next commercial break, so I will punish you all for not calling me by playing Don't Worry, Kyoko, Mommy's Only Looking For Her Hand in the Snow, by Yoko Ono. When we come back from commercial, I expect there to be more lights on my phone line. Prepare.

[The horror]

WhyStart This All Again?

For those outside the know, there is a larger than normal room with classic decor you may wander freely into in the Student Center of Annalow University. It is called the French Room and entering it feels like walking into the music room or some abandoned but well kept manor in the country side of the wine nation with its cream colored walls and golden framed paintings surrounding a grand piano. In my many years here in Springhill I have never understood this room's existence, but it makes an excellent quiet atmosphere for chess playing with my college friend and make-shift councilor, Jenny.

This was on last Wednesday and there was a small rustling outside as students frantically gather their schedules, bursar information, and random array of books, half of which may serve them in the following semester. I was ignoring the native savages outside the open doorway and paying more attention to my rook if I remember. Jenny was the first to break my concentration with talk about this blog and I have no recording to transcribe. You'll have to take my word for it.

Her worries were about my lack of energy and/or consistency of life. Jenny believes that a consistent update on the show would be good practice for other things I should do such as diet or exercise. I gently informed her to keep her nose out of my shit or I will bite it off, but she persisted despite my kind metaphor. That I enjoy my mornings in the afternoon and my healthy menu of wine and movies disturbed her. I'm no trashcan, as she imagines, but a connoissuer of cheap boose and paperbacks. I see no problem here.

Her argument was, besides the show and the few spots of writing I faultily submit to magazines, I have created nothing in my life. “Gee Mom, how about you shut the fuck up?” I said with affection, but my clever retort seemed only to egg her on. After three moves and two checks on the board, I finally gave in to trying the blog once more if for no other reason than to quiet the crawling chaos screeching from her mouth and allow proper concentration.

So you have Jenny to blame for my cranky, yet desperately witty transcripts. With classes starting on Monday, only hope of recognition of my incredible creative power drives me forward in my quest to distract you a little. I've already adhered my share of fliers onto aged bulletin boards across campus grounds informing students of the show. Mayhap this blog will serve as my online poster advertising In the Red with Kagy on 98.2 in the Springhill area.

Perhaps not. My reputation as a gutter intellectual is held in the balance.

What's With These Cricket?

[Segments stars with Poisoning Pigeons in the Park, by Tom Lehrer]

Kagy: Somewhere under all this chaos, there is a story to be told. Not by me, of course. I'm hardly a journalist, but I sit at the riverside of information in this town and many strange things float by, including this. For those tuning in, there is a strange cricket invasion in the parking lot of Merit Field Stadium. Well, since it's the middle of the show, I think I'll change my question to “What's up with all these Crickets?” Caller Twenty-Eight, what's up with all these crickets?

Caller 28: [muffle chirping noise in the background] I don't know, but they smell.

Kagy: You're near the parking lot?

Caller 28: I'm IN the Parking Lot. I'm actually in my car in front of the football stadium.

Kagy: I've seen it. It's...oh...I would say...

Caller 28: Biblical. I mean, there's not just a few crickets here. I thought you were exaggerating, but I can't see things like the doorway to the stadium because it's covered in crickets! This is crazy! I'll tell you what, tho. They smell! I never knew crickets smelled, but they stink to high heaven.

Kagy: Thanks for that update, Twenty-Eight. [click] Twenty-Nine, what's up with all these crickets?

Caller 29: They want free internet.

Kagy: Ugh. That was just awful. [click] Caller Thirty, what give these crickets the right to invade?

Caller 30: They're crawling in my home! It's a mad house! A MAD HOUSE!!!

Kagy: Okay, calm down. It's not the end of the world. [dramatic music] [whisper] Or is it?

Caller 30: I've put a towel down under my front and back door! It doesn't work! They just crawl through. The noise! THE NOISE!

Kagy: Yes, you're not the first person to call about the noise. Seems they've been invading homes as far as five blocks away from the stadium. Hmmm...

Caller 30: Please help!

Kagy: I'm sorry, we're just getting information. Moving on. [click] Caller Thirty-One, Hi. Any idea on how this cricket invasion started?

Caller 31: Huh? Oh, I don't know. The lights around the field, I guess. Hey, can I get that girls number from before.

Kagy: No, I'm not a phone book.

Caller 31: You don't even know who I'm talking about.

Kagy: Doesn't matter. Not a phone book.

Caller 31: Come on. I think I know her. I think I love her. You wouldn't want to get in the way of True Love, would you?

Kagy: Have you seen any pictures of me, lately, caller Thirty-One?

Caller 31: Uh...yeah. I...uh...went to your site once.

Kagy: Do I have yellow pages sticking out of my side?

Caller 31: Uh...No.

Kagy: Did you see me wrapped up in a book cover?

Caller 31: uh...

Kagy: Do I have a map of Springhill tattooed on my back? Was there info on me about emergency numbers? Did I have coupons sticking out of me? NOT- A- PHONEBOOK!

Caller 31: But...True love. [click]

Kagy: Caller Thirty-Two, I'm not a phone book, am I?

Caller 32: Wow, I must have missed something.

Kagy: Hey, Dr. Nick. Why are you still up? I thought you had to work tomorrow.

Dr. Nick: I'm watching some online review of Episode I. Anyway, it's the lights inside Merit Field. That's what's attracting the crickets.

Kagy: Huh.

Dr. Nick: Yep. The lights around Merit Field are always on every night. Something about it being easier to leave them on than to turn them off then on or something. Well those lights have always been so bright as to light up the sky.

Kagy: Okay, I'm with you.

Dr. Nick: Insects are attracted to the lights, so all the crickets moved into the parking lot. In fact, a friend of mine said you can't see the grass in the football stadium. You know that fake statue of the Analow Crow at the north of the field? Can't see it. It's gone under all the bugs.

Kagy: Wow. Huh. Okay, any idea how to get rid of them?

Dr. Nick: Meh. There's enough crows and sparrows in town that they'll get sucked up eventually. Nature has a way of balancing these things out.

Kagy: Well, thank you for that input, Dr. Nick. [click] David is signaling to me, so I'll have to leave you for a little while, Springhill. We'll be back. Keep the calls rolling.

[Roll Commercials]

Why Do Hangover's Suck?

Kagy: [sniffle] I have got two words for you. Horrific Hangover. For those of you who attended, I'm so sorry I threw up on everything. Things just seem to go wrong when I drink whiskey. For those who were not at Mina's this Saturday, you missed a party that dare not be spoken of. Hi, you're In the Red, with me, Kagy, and I feel like the rotting bath-towel of K.N.O.T. College Radio. The industrial vats of wine drank that night may have been enough for me to drive over every student on campus either from my cathartic nature to destroy all living things that squeak louder than 3 decibels or the PMS like mood in the cranial cavities left by fighting after the movie. There's a baby crying about three block from the K.N.O.T. building. I know because I feel every dust molecule banging against my head vibrating the smallest of noises. God I hate life. Here, children, let me play a little song for you while I grab a coffee. Enjoy.

[Played Lake Pontchartrain, by Ludo]



Kagy: Caller one, give me one reason why I shouldn't hunt you down and take ou my frustrations on your skull.

Caller 1: Alians. [sic]

Kagy: Oh good.

Caller 1: You kin scoff all you like, butt they're out thair an' they've visited us resiliently, Kagy! The Greys, the Lizard-Folk, the Moth-Men, they're are all real and human'ty has ta' come ta' terms with that.

Kagy: [snort] By my baggy eyes, you're full of it. Though, just because I like to humor each and everyone of you horror shows, why don't you give me what everyone wants; Proof?

Caller 1: I have in mah hands pho-to-graphic evidence of a spaceship land'n out back on mah brother's farm, Kagy. It is clear as the blue skah. If ya' look hair you kin see the rocket-ships engines made of some strange alian-alloy mankind has yet ta' discoverred. And hair's absolute proof of the in coming space-diplomat the govern-mint has denied existence ovar and ovar again. Look! Ya' kin see it, plain as the nose on yer face.

Kagy: [pause] Yes, that looks quite convening, Caller One. I must admit, I didn't expect to see such blatant evidence of alien contact. But don't you think it's a little blurry?

Caller 1: Ya' Skeptics. You always expect the photo's ta' be clear when take'n at night? It's hard ay-nuff ta' get an' alian ta' come down an' park on your hey-field as it is.

Kagy: Alright, Alright. I concede except for one little detail, Caller. One and only one thing that ruins your credibility enough to keep from convincing me.

Caller 1: Ee-eah? Whut's that, now?

Kagy: You are trying to show me pictures through a telephone. [Pause] Still there, One?

Caller 1: I'm so alone. [click]

Kagy: Caller Two, Aliens may destroy the world, how does that make you feel?

Caller 2: You! You bitch! What have you done with my boyfriend?

Kagy: Oh god. Was that your's? I can barely remember a thing.

Caller 2: Where is he? He won't answer his cell phone! He hasn't been home! I saw you leave with him Saturday night and never saw him again!

Kagy: [siff] Look, all I remember was walking out of the theater and waking up confused and naked with three other...bodies in a dumpster outside the Springhill Police station. Be glad we were all still alive...I think. I have no idea if one of them was your boyfriend, okay? I got out of there fast.

Caller 2: In a dumpst- What?

Kagy: And I never did find my clothes or my own cell phone. Er...Or, in fact, anyone's clothes or possessions.

Caller 2: I...uh...What did you do to him?!!

Kagy: I don't know, Two, as I told you! Just... [sigh] Just call the police and tell them to check for clues behind their station. [click] Once again, if you were at the party... [snort] Man. Just call me and tell me what happened, if you can remember. I still don't know who the other two women were. Damn, there goes that baby again. Caller Three, if I paid you in gold doubloons, would you kill me?

Caller 3: Hey Kagy I...Oh...No, I wouldn't. I just have some stuff I gotta plug on your show.

Kagy: Sure, why not? It's not dangerous, is it?

Caller 3: No, they are everyday under the counter megaphones. I have twenty-seven of these fine devices that can amplify the quietest of voices 30 to 40 decibels, and they each have an attention function! [click-SCREECH!]

Kagy: Aaaahh! [sound of headphones flying across the room]

Caller 3: Now, each of these have been supped up by yours truly and if you call me in town, I can deliver them to ya' as soon as tomorrow. [clicking sound of Megaphone] My phone number is XXX-XXXX in the 405 area-code!!! Thanks Kagy! [click]

Kagy: [sounds of fumbling and random swearing] [in a dying voice] kiiiiilllll meeee...

Caller 4: Kagy, will I ever find true love? [silence] Hello? Kagy?

Kagy: kiiilllll meeee.....

Caller 4: Uh...Kagy?

Kagy: kiillllll.....meeee......

Caller 4: Er...I...I think I got the wrong number.

Kagy: [whispering] sssevennn daaaysss....

Caller 4: I gotta go. [click]

[roll commercials]

Justin Bieber Attacks

[Segment starts with Personal Jesus, by Depeche Mode, performed by Marilyn Manson]

Kagy: Oh thank God for Manson. For those of you tuning in, we're under attack here at In the Red because someone realized that Justin Bieber is the devil and decided to call in playing him every five minutes. If you're out there, ghost of Alester Crowly, I could use some voodoo that you do. Oh....Oh my phone lines are lit up, but I'm afraid to touch them. Here goes...Caller talk to me.

Caller 42: Still working on the source, Kagy.

Kagy: Thank Poe, it's Malchavian Daren. What do you mean, the source?

Darren: Me and Dr. Nick have been messing with your phone lines. We were listening in and decided to start hacking into the phone system...Hang on. What? Why are you giving me the signal to shut up?

Dr. Nick: [in the background] Quiet, already!

Darren: Oh, right. I mean to say we certainly would never hack into a public phone system, that would be illegal. Anyway, the most we've found by tracing the source is the calls are coming from inside Springhill.

Kagy: Brilliant. You are truly an epic detective duo. Hold on, I got another call. [click] Caller Forty-Three, whats...

Caller 43: [Plays a clicp of Eenie Meenie Minee Mo Lover, by Justin Bieber]

Kagy: [with hatred] NO! [click] The horror. The horror. Caller Forty-Four...Please be safe to pick up.

Caller 44: [sounds like Roger Jackson] Trouble tonight, Kagy?

Kagy: I'll ask the questions here. But...I forgot what tonight's question was. Ugh. What's up, Forty-Four?

Caller 44: I was about to call regarding the failings of reason and how it's dangerous to rely exclusively upon it, but your plight is far more interesting.

Kagy: Ah, this would be Mr. Hand.

Caller 44: Indeed. Tell me, Kagy, why would the vocals of America's preteen star bother you so?

Kagy: Or you kidding? His voice sounds more autotuned than T-Pain. Forget my own toxic hatred for diabetes inducing pop-music, this would be an attack upon my audience.

Caller 44: You could always start screening calls.

Kagy: And ruin the spontaneity of Springhill's public? I'm not sure it's worth it.

Caller 44: You're choice, of course. Sounds like you change the show's format to screened calls or change it's name to In the Red with Justin Bieber. I'll leave the decision to you.

Kagy: Mr. Hand, it almost sounds like you had something to do with this?

Caller 44: And you sound paranoid. I am just presenting out an observation. Good luck, Kagy. [click]

Kagy: That was creepy. Caller Forty-Five, talk to me. And NO MUSIC!

Caller 45: Hey, Kagy. It's the Barrle Roll guys. We're calling cuz we feel sorry for you.

Kagy: Er...Thanks you?

Caller 45: You know what you ought to do?

Kagy: I can guess. [click] Alright. [breaths] Here we go. Caller Forty-Six, what's on your-

Caller 46: [Plays a clip from One Less Lonely Girl, by Justin Bieber]

Kagy: [Unintelligible screaming] [click] Hang on a second, Springhill. [dialing noise]

Darren: Uh...Hello?

Kagy: Darren, any luck?

Darren: Nope, we're still checking. Most likely we won't know until tomorrow's show, if they do this again. Um...Not there there's anyway we'd know 'cuz we're defiantly not doing anything illegal.

Dr. Nick: [in the background] Dude, would you shut up!

Darren: I gotta go, Kagy.

Kagy: Yeah, sure. [click] Okay, one last call. First I will clear the lines...and last Caller, speak.

Caller 47: [Plays a clip from Never Say Never, by Justin Bieber] [click]

Kagy: NEVER! [sound of angry screaming in concert with something thrown across the room] Okay...Okay...We're done. I know it's a little early, but I think we've both had enough, Springhill. Tomorrow I'll be a the Cerulean Theatre on Campus. Mina's Movie Club will be showing The Night Flier. Blah Blah blah. I'm done. [About a minute of dead air] Okay. I said ALRIGHT! Grrr. [Read quickly] In the Red is produced by David Orger and I'm you're host Kathryn Guilty. This was a K.N.O.T. College Radio production. Thanks go to our fearless leader, Tom Wits and anyone who listened. Thanks to everyone who called in except you! YOU KNOW WHO YOU ARE! Good Night and die in a fire. [click]

[Show ends with She's Unreal, by Meat Beat Manifesto]

Who's next on The Chopping Block

[Segments starts with Lover's End, by Birthday Massacre]



Kagy: Alright, Springhill, we're still here chugging away on this track called 'reality.' Let's see...which line should I pull next? How about...Caller Twenty-Five, Who will be Next on the chopping Block?

Caller 25: [voiced like Roger Jackson] I don't even know what that means, but I thought I'd get something off my chest anyway.

Kagy: Oh, sure. The Doctor is in, five cents, please, Mr. um....

Caller 25: Again, you make little sense. I don't like names. Called me Mr. Hand. I have talked with so many...I guess the only word for them is 'zealo,t' that tell me I'm going to hell if I don't change my heathen ways.

Kagy: To rule or to suffer? Wait, you've been talking to Crazy Bob, haven't you?

Caller 25: Robert Filben is ignorable. That fact that he is known as Crazy Bob makes him about as serious as an aardvark in a clown wig. No, I'm talking about people at my work place, which I shall not reveal. As inappropriate a place to declare my damnation, I still receive such thread from the children of God. I'm quite sick of it, so I'm declaring that I will indeed go to Hell if that's the price to be free to think for myself and not in the confines of religious dogma that is forced down our throats harder than any health care bill. That's right, I'm damning myself out of spite.

Kagy: A brave statement.

Caller 25: Would you like to come to Hell with me, Kagy?

Kagy: That was easily the best pickup line I have ever heard, Hand, but I can't because I still believe forgiveness is a divine ideal.

Caller 25: I don't understand what you mean.

Kagy: If forgiveness is divine then there would be no Hell. [click] Next. Caller Twenty-Six, Who's next on the chopping block?

Caller 26: Paris Hilton. I hate that bitch! She's worthless!

Kagy: Apparently she worth your attention. [click] Caller Twenty-Seven, Who's next on the Chopping block?

Caller 27: [young man's voice] Hey, Kagy, I'm in the middle of homework. I know it's late, but I have a question.

Kagy: Can't you ask your parents for help, Twenty-Seven?

Caller 27: No. They're asleep. Look, I'm in the middle of a question for Environmental Science, and it asking me what the temperature is called when humidity reaches a point to cause condensation.

Kagy: You won't believe it, Twenty-Seven. I actually know that answer. It's called a Dew Point.

Caller 27: Dew? DO A BARRLE ROLL!!! [click]

Kagy: ARGH!!! They just KEEP. GETTING. IN! Oh, this Thursday morning is turning into quite something, isn't it? Caller Twenty-Eight, who's next on the chopping block?

Caller 28: My friend is, I guess. Can you believe she doesn't like anime? I mean, it's just a aesthetic, isn't it? A cool Aesthetic. Anime is awesome!

Kagy: Uh...yes. Sure. Whatever you say, Otaku.

Caller 28: What does Kagy think about anime?

Kagy: I'm usually bored with it, excepting some individuals such as Petite Cossette and, of course, the Vampire Hunter D movies. The trouble is so many people mistake anime style for anime content. Just because it's anime does not automatically make it good. Compare a good anime, such as Eden of the East, in my opinion, against a bad anime such as the Angel Sanctuary OVA, in my opinion. Too many themes and story elements repeat themselves in most anime. The high school harem story with super esper powers saving the world from a galactic spirit world menace in the sky. It's just Meh after a while, wouldn't you agree?

Caller 28: [long pause] You're going to hell. [click]

Kagy: Might as well hook up with the early caller, then. Date accepted, Mr. Hand. We'll be back after this.

[run commercials]