Posts Tagged BBC

Civilisations: Rise and Fall

BBC2’s Civilisations: Rise and Fall is a sweeping, visually ambitious series that charts the ascent and collapse of empires from Egypt to Rome, the Aztecs to China. More than a history lesson, it is a meditation on power, fragility, and the echoes of ancient struggles in today’s world.

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The BBC series Civilisations: Rise and Fall sets out to dramatise the great arcs of human achievement and collapse. It is a programme that thrives on spectacle: sweeping drone shots, CGI reconstructions of temples and palaces, and narration that frames each civilisation as a story of ascent, glory, and eventual decline. Yet beneath the cinematic surface lies a set of themes that resonate with modern anxieties, particularly around migration, integration, and the treatment of displaced peoples.

The first episode focuses on the Goths and their fraught relationship with the Roman Empire. The programme shows how Rome, under pressure from external threats and internal divisions, accepted large numbers of Gothic refugees inside its borders. The narrative highlights the poor treatment these newcomers received—exploited, marginalised, and denied meaningful integration into Roman society. This mistreatment, the programme suggests, sowed the seeds of rebellion and ultimately contributed to Rome’s vulnerability. The parallels with contemporary debates about refugee crises are hard to miss. Modern societies, too, wrestle with questions of how to welcome displaced populations, how to integrate them fairly, and what happens when neglect or hostility replaces genuine inclusion.

What the series does not ask—though the omission is itself telling—is whether Rome was wise to accept such large numbers of Gothic refugees in the first place. The decision is presented as a historical fact rather than a policy choice to be interrogated. By sidestepping this question, the programme avoids the more uncomfortable terrain of weighing humanitarian impulses against strategic risk. Instead, it focuses on the consequences of poor integration, leaving viewers to draw their own conclusions about the balance between compassion and caution.

Other episodes broaden the canvas. Egypt’s grandeur is framed through its monumental architecture and eventual decline under foreign conquest. The Aztecs are shown as a civilisation of dazzling cultural achievement undone by Spanish colonisation and disease. Rome’s story is not only about the Goths but also about the dangers of over‑expansion and political corruption. In each case, the series emphasises the tension between human creativity and the forces—internal or external—that bring empires down. The repetition of this rise‑and‑fall pattern across continents and centuries reinforces the programme’s central message: no civilisation is immune to collapse.

This approach reflects the series’ broader style. Civilisations: Rise and Fall is not an academic seminar but a popular history show, designed to entertain while provoking thought. It simplifies complex histories into digestible arcs of rise and collapse, but in doing so it also opens space for reflection. The Gothic episode, in particular, becomes a mirror for modern societies: a reminder that the way refugees are treated can shape the fate of nations, and that neglect or exploitation can have consequences far beyond the immediate crisis.

In the end, the programme succeeds in making ancient history feel urgent and relevant. By hinting at modern parallels without spelling them out, it invites viewers to consider how the struggles of past empires echo in today’s world. The story of the Goths and Rome is not just a tale of antiquity—it is a cautionary narrative about integration, fairness, and the fragile balance between humanitarian ideals and stability.

By Pat Harrington

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Doctor Who Season 2 Episode 2 Review: Lux Analysis

2,251 words, 12 minutes read time.

A critic asked to summarise Lux in two sentences, at some unspecified point in the future might write, ‘It was ambitious and innovative, had loads of potential, retains many good points, but, like almost every episode from the ‘RTD 2 era’, it is an incoherent, unsatisfying mess. Lux is remembered primarily for one ‘Meta’ scene that both referenced and hastened the show’s long hiatus.’

Plot

After last week’s more traditional Science Fiction season opener, The Robot Revolution, we’re back to the Pantheon of Gods, which Russell T Davies (RTD) first introduced us to in The Giggle, the last of the three Sixtieth anniversary specials in late 2023.

This time in the spotlight, almost literally, we have Lux, the God of Light, who manifests in the form of a traditional, old-school Disney-type animated character, Mr. Ring-a-Ding, in a cinema in Miami, Florida, 1952. Breaking free of the cinema screen, he imprisons fifteen local cinema goers within the frames of celluloid film.

The Doctor and Belinda, as part of the ongoing season arc of attempting to return the new companion home to England on the date she left, May 24th this year, find themselves in Miami and begin to investigate the disappearance of the ‘Miami 15’. In their interactions with the lead villain, they too find themselves trapped within celluloid, briefly turned into animated form themselves, before finally escaping by smashing through a modern flat TV screen into a British living room where they interact with ‘Doctor Who fans’. These three fans advise on how to defeat Lux. Returning to Miami, our heroes follow this advice, and with the help of Mr. Pye, the cinema projectionist, who sacrifices himself with the help of his dead wife by setting alight to the many rolls of film, burning down the cinema. This exposes Lux to outside sunlight, an influx of light so great that he begins to grow, to lose his animated form, ultimately merging to become ‘all light’. The missing fifteen walk free from the cinema, seemingly unharmed.

That’s a simplified version, and much else happens along the way, but that’s essentially it.

Positives

It looks great. Miami, 1952, at least an idealised, Disney-fied version of it, is very well realised, the cars, the clothes, the gaudy neon signs, the diner, the ‘picturehouse’…

An early shot of one of the ’15’ screaming out from the frames of film looks genuinely terrifying. The animations of Mr.-Ring-a-Ding and of the Doctor and Belinda were impressive and, based on my admittedly limited knowledge in this area, looked appropriate to the period. Close to the end of the episode, the distorted image of Lux as he began his transformation away from his animated Mr Ring-a-Ding manifestation towards infinity was also impressively horrifying.

Even the ‘fourth wall’/Meta-break is visually striking.

Ncuti Gatwa continued the improvement seen in his portrayal of the Doctor in last week’s season opener. Arguably, he even finally had his proper ‘Doctor moment.’ This was in the diner when he had been explaining to a shocked Belinda that they were at a point in history when segregation was still in place in America. He responded to her incredulity that he wasn’t as outraged as she was about this fact by saying, ‘I’ve toppled worlds. Sometimes I wait for them to topple themselves.’ I shine.’ Good lines, well-delivered, which could have come from the mouth of any of the modern Doctors not played by Jodie Whittaker.

Grudging credit must be given to Davies for his tackling of the segregation theme in general. We might have expected him to go to town on this, but, for once, he showed restraint. Or, maybe, as I mentioned in my review of The Robot Revolution, much work was put into post-production and re-editing in response to criticisms of last year’s series. Of course, there was no necessity to set the episode in segregation era America in the first place, either, and it could be argued that the contrast between the restraint displayed here and the histrionics on race-related issues at the end of Dot and Bubble shows an inconsistency of characterisation. True, characters should grow and develop over time, but that was a mere five episodes ago, and the Doctor was, supposedly, no less a Time Lord then than he is in Lux.

Sadly, though not unexpectedly, Ncuti’s good work was undercut by his usual array of campy posturing, with no consideration given by Davies to how adding such flamboyant characteristics, clothes and modes of speech (‘honey,’ ‘babes’) to his skin colour would likely have been received at this time, in this place.

Gatwa’s threads look very nice, but once again, he’s deprived of a recognisable ‘Doctor costume’ which immediately signals to the viewer that this is the character he is portraying.

Verada’s Sethu’s Belinda was a much more engaging character here than in the season opener, with less moaning and ‘pushing back’ against the Doctor and more entering into the spirit of being a companion at the beginning of what ought to be a series of epic adventures through space and time.

There was some good dialogue and banter between Doctor and companion, and other characters, and some good one-liners from Mr Ring-a-Ding (‘I never should have learnt perspective!’), and it’s probably a bit late in the day to be mentioning how superbly voiced the ‘villain’ was by Alan Cummings. I believe he does this sort of thing for a day job, and you can see, or at least hear, why. 

Negatives

As much more of a Science Fiction than a Fantasyfan, I’m not greatly impressed by the move in this direction since Davies once more took over as showrunner. I can certainly appreciate the genre in the hands of masters such as Tolkien, C.S. Lewis, Ursula Le Guin, and even J.K. Rowling. But these writers spent decades, a lifetime in the case of the former, building complex, internally consistent worlds full of characters who are believable in the context of those worlds. RTD is no Tolkien. As far as I know, he has no track record of writing Fantasy, and I have no sense of him believing in his ‘Pantheon of Gods’ to the extent of being able to stand even a few minutes of questioning concerning the nature of these ‘Gods’ and how they relate to one another. For Davies, it seems the ‘Fantasy’ tag is merely a convenience that frees him from the need to write plots that make sense to anyone other than himself.

In addition, as Brendan, host of my favourite Doctor Who podcast (‘Sense Sphere’) puts it, ‘These Gods are crap!’ turning up in random places which may or may not be related to the Doctor turning up at the same place and time, and then being quickly and easily defeated after causing harm to a limited number of people for a while or, this case, maybe not defeated, because becoming at one with all light is presumably where Lux as the God (or ‘a’ God?) of Light, started from before randomly manifesting as a cartoon character in a cinema because of a chance occurrence (moonlight reflected from a spoon).

I also don’t feel invested in the Belinda ‘Journey home narrative’. It worked fine with Ian and Barbara in the early days of the show, because it was clear at that point that the Doctor had no control of where and when the Tardis materialised.

But here?

As I understand it, the Tardis can’t land on the target date of May 25th, so the Doctor has built a gadget, the Vortex Indicator (Vindicator), which, in theory, could, by getting somewhere (and somewhen) in the right vicinity, drag the Tardis to the desired destination. In which case, why are they in Miami in 1952? It would make sense for the Doctor to at least attempt to materialise on May 24th and, if successful, take Belinda to one of his favourite clubs for a few hours until the clock strikes midnight and, voila, it’s the 25th. She can say a quick ‘Hi,’ to celloist mum and karaoke dad (new information gained in Lux. What a surprise that it’s only the mum who is given a proper career), have a few hours’ sleep and be at the hospital in time for her 2-10 shift preventing the NHS from collapse.

Job done.

Such things are logistic plot-point problems writers can easily deal with, explaining away as necessary, if they are aware of them. But that will often require an editor with the confidence and authority to read through their work and drop them a friendly email saying ‘Very good, but…’

Pacing

Like so much of this incarnation of the show, the actual plot is slight and could be raced through in much less than its forty-five-minute time allocation. But telling it in such a way that it doesn’t strain the viewer’s credulity, at the same time as peopling it with believable characters we feel we’ve come to know and have grown to care about, can’t be. So, that early image of the character we saw screaming from within a celluloid frame was never capitalised upon, because we never saw this character again until he miraculously walked free from the cinema at the end. He didn’t even have a name (only Tommy Lee, son of one of the characters at the diner, had that), so why should we feel relieved that he’s been rescued from his horrifying ordeal?

A lack of consequences is another big problem with the show in its current run. Almost every major character was dissolved into dust early in the season one finale The Empire of Death. By the end, they’d all been resurrected. Similarly, Mr. Pye was the only character who died in Lux.

Linus Roche, a fine character actor in his own right as well as the son of William Roche (Ken Barlow in Coronation Street), deserves a lot of credit for his portrayal of the projectionist. But he got no more than a few minutes of screen time, so, again, why should we care?

***

Over the last week, I’ve watched the latest run of six Black Mirror episodes on Netflix, and this set me thinking that, in at least one future world, Doctor Who could be improved if it could be detached from the BBC completely (as far as new content is concerned). The move from Channel Four to a fully streamed service allowed Black Mirror to achieve what Davies had said was his ambition for Who, to take it from being a niche British show to a truly global phenomenon which enjoys both public and critical acclaim. Netflix provided Black Mirror with a much bigger budget than could have been imagined during its first two series, which were funded by and shown only on Channel Four. But, more importantly, the move freed it from forty-five to fifty-minute episode time constraints. Stories now take as long as the show creator and writer, Charlie Brooker (sometimes with co-writers), feels are needed to tell them. I’d recommend watching, back-to-back, the season four episode, USS Callister and its new season seven sequel USS Callister: Into Infinity, both feature-length, both incredibly tightly written, working on several levels, including meta-Star Trek parody, but managing to incorporate genuinely thrilling SF adventures with real consequences for believable characters who viewers have formed a relationship with.

It helps that Brooker is a brilliant writer, and even his early, time-constrained episodes stand up well. But he would never have been able to produce something this ambitious within the parameters of British network television.

And Doctor Who could never attempt to emulate it, no matter how many billions Disney, or anyone else, throws at it while it remains tied to BBC television scheduling.

The ‘Meta’ Scene

I intended to say more about the ‘scene with the fans’ than I will, because it remains to be seen if this will have a significance in the series beyond Lux, in the season climax as, I think, is strongly suggested by Mrs Flood’s nod and wink references at the end of the episode. I’ll provisionally stick to three short points: 1) It put a break on the story, adding to the pacing problems 2) If the show does end up on ‘indefinite hiatus’ then, as I indicated at the beginning of the review, this is the scene that everybody will remember it for, irrespective of its many good qualities. 3) It’s the sort of indulgence that a show can perhaps get away with when it’s at the top of its game and is still clearly beloved. I doubt many Buffy fans rewatch the musical episode often, but they can forgive and even admire its existence. In a show that is haemorrhaging viewers (I’ll talk more about ratings in a future review, but a 23% drop in the overnight figures from The Robot Revolution to Lux can’t be spun in a positive direction, and now even the pretence of pretending all is well is falling away) it risks further alienating loyal viewers, whether it was affectionately stereotyping Doctor Who fans or not, as well as being incomprehensible to new viewers.  

If the show is cancelled, what photo-still from its illustrious sixty-two-year history will accompany the headlines? I’ll take a wild stab that it’ll be of Ncuti Gatwa and Veranda Sethru standing, with three cosplaying ‘fans’, next to a television screen upon which are displayed the ‘Doctor Who’ and ‘BBC’ logos as well as the legend #RIPDoctorWho.

Anthony C Green, April 2025

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Doctor Who: Season Two, Episode One, Robot Revolution, Reviewed

845 words, 4 minutes read time.

Initial Impressions

Well, knit me a skirt and call me Susan Foreman. The first episode of the new series of Doctor Who was… good.
At least on first viewing.

On second watch, my opinion dipped slightly—and I expect a third will lower it further. But it remains the most enjoyable episode since Ncuti Gatwa officially took over in the 2023 Christmas Special.

I’ve deliberately avoided other reviews, much like Bob and Terry dodging football results in Whatever Happened to the Likely Lads?—so what follows is purely my take.

The State of the Show

The RTD2 Era So Far

Fandom has rarely been so united in criticism as it has with Russell T Davies’s (RTD’s) second stint as showrunner, starting in 2022. Once the hero who brought Who back in 2005, RTD returned to a franchise weakened by the Chibnall/Whittaker years, with high hopes buoyed by Disney’s reported $100M partnership.

Those hopes were misplaced.

His Children in Need short undermined Davros with ill-advised political revisionism. The 60th anniversary specials, despite the return of David Tennant and Catherine Tate, fizzled rather than soared. Ncuti Gatwa’s debut, in The Giggle, saw the first use of ‘bi-generation’—leaving Tennant’s Doctor bizarrely alive and semi-retired with a working TARDIS.

Season One: A Litany of Missteps

  • Opening Disaster: Space Babies—arguably the worst Who episode ever.
  • Immediate Follow-Up: The Devil’s Chord, offensive to Beatles and Doctor Who fans alike.
  • Lazy Writing: With six episodes penned by RTD himself, most felt like first drafts.
  • Rare Bright Spots: Only Boom (written by Steven Moffat) stood out as complete and coherent.
  • Musical Numbers: Overused gimmicks (The Goblin’s Song, There’s Always A Twist…) quickly wore thin.
  • Unconvincing Relationships: Ruby Sunday and the Doctor’s bond felt forced and underdeveloped.
  • Weak Finale: Empire of Death left major questions unanswered or resolved them with laughable twists.

Sutekh—once a terrifying god-like villain—was reduced to a cartoonish giant dog, ultimately defeated with a magic rope. It would be funny if it weren’t so depressing.

The Doctor and the Gatwa Problem

Gatwa’s Doctor still lacks a defining moment. He changes outfits constantly (so no iconic look), cries often (up to five times per episode), and seems more human than alien. His sexuality was foregrounded—fine in principle, but clumsily executed in Rogue, where he ditched Ruby for a romantic rendezvous with a near-stranger.

Worst of all, the Doctor rarely saves the day anymore. The “male saviour” trope appears to have been shelved—at the expense of the show’s storytelling.

Culture War Fallout

The show’s shift from story to message has not gone unnoticed. Political soapboxing—on gender, race, reparations—has replaced the sense of wonder. RTD and Gatwa’s response to criticism? Blame the fans—accusing them of bigotry rather than acknowledging creative decline.

Robot Revolution: A Ray of Hope?

What Worked

Surprisingly, a lot:

  • The Concept: A star named after a girlfriend leads to her being abducted by giant robots years later and crowned their queen. Classic Sci-Fi hook.
  • Aesthetic Style: Ray-gun robots, 1950s rocket ships, and space cityscapes—this looked like real Doctor Who.
  • Pacing and Visuals: It didn’t drag. The time fracture effects were trippy. Disney’s budget might finally have shown up.
  • Restraint from Gatwa: Fewer manic outbursts, just one single tear (still too many), and toned-down antics helped. Post-production may have removed the worst.
  • A Solid Companion Setup: Belinda Chandra has potential—feisty, capable, but not yet loveable.

But There Were Issues…

  • The Message: Toxic masculinity was this week’s villain. The metaphor was belaboured—Alan’s marriage proposal came with weird conditions (no tight clothes, no texting after 8 PM), and Belinda’s “Planet of the Incels!” line felt jarringly on-the-nose.
  • Shaky Character Beats: Belinda was indifferent to the death of a cat and quite rude to Alan. Not ideal for a new character intro.
  • Gloating Doctor: The Doctor’s smugness at Alan’s fate was disquieting. Classic Doctors showed compassion even toward enemies.
  • Convenient Tech: The robots’ inability to process every ninth word let the Doctor and Belinda speak in code—a clever but fragile plot device.

The Bigger Picture

Despite RTD’s promise of a darker Doctor, what we got was a confused one—part clown, part political commentator. Robot Revolution hints at a course correction, but it’s not yet the show many of us fell in love with.

Moffat’s fingerprints—nonlinear storytelling, callbacks to Boom, the wordplay—were everywhere. Even Belinda’s jab at “timey-wimey” felt like a meta-apology for narrative fatigue.

The big question remains: Is there a future for this version of Doctor Who?

Rumours swirl of Disney pulling out after The War Between The Land and the Sea. Gatwa’s departure seems imminent—potentially without a replacement announced, a first since Patrick Troughton’s exit.

Final Verdict

“Better than Space Babies” is a low bar, but Robot Revolution clears it with ease. In fact, it’s probably better than anything from last season. It feels like Doctor Who again—if only faintly.

Guarded optimism replaces despair. I’m even looking forward to Lux.

Low expectations, it turns out, can be a gift.

Anthony C Green, April 18, 2025.

A promotional image for 'The Angela Suite' book by Anthony C. Green, featuring a close-up of bare feet resting on a surface, alongside a radio or speaker and a backdrop of an urban skyline.

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Call off the threats

The BBC has succeeded in gaining an impressive reputation: it’s respected around the world for its impartiality.  While other broadcasters like Rupert Murdoch’s Sky and Fox channels and Silvio Berlusconi are universally despised for their undoubted political biases, the BBC usually manages to get away with its claim o be a balanced and impartial broadcaster. This claim is not sustained by the facts as revealed by a former Director General of the BBC itself, Greg Dyke, in a speech to a fringe meeting at the Liberal Democrats’ annual conference, only reported by the Belfast Telegraph, the Glasgow Herald and the Guardian media correspondent Roy Greenslade.

In his speech, about MPs’ expenses, Dyke called for a commission to look into the “whole political system”, adding: “I fear it will never happen because I fear the political class will stop it.”

Dyke claimed that he had wanted to make big changes to the BBC’s political coverage but that these had been blocked..

“The evidence that our democracy is failing is overwhelming and yet those with the biggest interest in sustaining the current system – the Westminster village, the media and particularly the political parties, including this one – are the groups most in denial about what is really happening to our democracy…

  “I tried and failed to get the problem properly discussed when I was at the BBC and I was stopped, interestingly, by a combination of the politicos on the board of governors, one of whom [Sara Hogg] was married to the man who claimed for cleaning his moat, the cabinet interestingly – the Labour cabinet – who decided to have a meeting, only about what we were trying to discuss, and the political journalists at the BBC.

  “Why? Because, collectively, they are all part of the problem. They are part of one Westminster conspiracy. They don’t want anything to change. It’s not in their interests.”

He went on to claim that at the BBC,  “In the end, political journalists live in the  same narrow world as politicians do and they don’t see a need to change because they think it’s the world. They just don’t understand that out there it’s very different.”

That’s the hub of the problem.  The bias at the BBC is so ingrained, that it has become as natural as breathing to most of the journalists who work there. This was borne out by an impartiality seminar of BBC journalists hosted by former Desert Island Discs presenter Sue Lawley in 2006.  Andrew Marr admitted to the London Evening Standard that the BBC did not represent majority British opinion, saying, “The BBC is not impartial or neutral. It’s a publicly-funded, urban organisation with an abnormally large number of young people, ethnic minorities and gay people.

  “It has a liberal bias not so much a party-political bias. It is better expressed as a cultural liberal bias.”  Business presenter Jeff Randall told the same paper that he had  complained to a senior executive at the BBC about the corporation’s pro-multiculturalism stance. He claimed he was told: “The BBC is not neutral in multiculturalism, it believes in it and it promotes it.”

There is evidence that the prevailing ethos at the BBC at best disdains Christianity and seems to want to drive it from the public arena to the private sphere. According to the Evening Standard, Lawley’s seminar discussed a proposed episode of Room 101 in which Ali G would dump a copy of the Bible and the Quran. BBC executives were willing to dump one of these books but not the other.  Can you guess which one?

Former BBC newsreader Peter Sissons, blows the whistle on this in his recent book When One Door Closes. Sissons says, “What the BBC wants you, the public, to believe is that it has ‘independence’ woven into its fabric, running through its veins and concreted into its foundations. The reality, I discovered, was that for the BBC, independence is not a banner it carries ­principally on behalf of the listener or viewer.
“Rather, it is the name it gives to its ability to act at all times in its own best interests.”

You might ask, so what?  After all, we have the option of turning our television sets and radios off if we don’t like what we hear.  What does it matter if the BBC reflects the concerns of a self-affirming political liberal-leftist elite? We can watch other TV channels, tune in to other radio stations or access other news sources online.

That’s true, but the big difference is that we are required to pay for this source of biased news on pain of criminal prosecution. When I pay for a copy of The Guardian, I know what to expect; thoughtful left-liberal political analysis. I expect the Irish News to promote an Irish nationalist agenda, the News Letter to promote unionism and the Daily Express to come up with something new or bizarre about Princess Diana every couple of months. I expect pugnacious conservative populism in the Daily Mail and The Sun and unrepentant Stalinism in the Morning Star.  I pay my money and I take my choice.

No-one is going to send me a series of threatening letters saying that they have no record of me taking The Times and threatening me with court action if I don’t immediately go out and pay for the privilege of reading it whether I actually do so or not. I can choose to subscribe to newspapers, internet and cable or satellite television channels that reflect or challenge my political or religious opinions, prejudices and biases.  I cannot choose not to pay for the BBC and use a television set without risking being taken to court and fined or sent to prison.

We have become so used to this extraordinary state of affairs because we have grown up with it, but in fact it’s a crazy system. A private company acts as if it was some kind of public authority to demand payment with menaces for another private corporation; one that holds the view that the masses who do not share its left-liberal metropolitan views are to be treated with disdain or contempt.  Try ignoring letters from the TVLA and see how it ratchets up the threats and menacing language. Even better, if you have no television set, write and tell them so.  It makes no difference. The threatening letters soon resume.

It’s time for the BBC to put its money where its mouth is. I suspect that the Corporation might have to change its ways were it forced to rejoin the real world and pay its way like any other business.  The smug ‘we know best, so clear off’ response to viewers’ and listeners’ complaints might change if people were not treated as criminals should they decide to withhold payment of their TV licence fee.

Abolish the compulsion element in the licence and replace it with a voluntary subscription and quarterly fund-raising appeals and see what happens. That’s what happens in theUSwith American Public Radio and National Public Radio. Those who agree with the BBC’s political line or who like to be challenged by it will pay to receive BBC radio and television as their counterparts do inAmerica.  Those alienated or offended by it or the indifferent will probably walk away.

 

David Kerr

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