處决1938！

書抄 #6

如果乘坐公車是個空間的問題
那我無法逃避身體的責任？
你的手心還熱，腮邊有點腫
喉頭燃燒著，太慣於依賴你的指示
我忽略了燈光和神經過敏之間的微小區別
那裡隱含著一道線索，像電車軌般
蟄伏在歴史删改編修的過程，你說：
儘管我不相信地圖，但總要
有下車的目的地，就算故意錯過車站亦必須承認
失去的日子也是旅行的成本
沒有拾遺的必要，沒有空置的必要
儘管我無法避免大意，大意也是血液和骨骼的歴史
我還是張開眼睛，車廂裡不只我一個人
還有候車的街道，街道樓上的某個單位
重複的彎角、踏足和繞圈，我們背上交纏著的電線
或是沉默如妳，或是那個失控的小孩
都無法逃出同一個重圍同一種速度
夜裡我總是無法認出下車的位置
你小聲地說，這是個超級市場，對面有一座小學
過了前面的天橋，有燈光忽閃而過
然後是上星期我們吃過早餐的小店
我按下落車的鈴響
時間就停了

──盧勁馳，〈夜裡，我總是無法認出下車的位置〉，《後遺──給健視人仕．看不見的城市照相簿》（香港：三聯，2009） 頁204-205

留言 18 Feb, 10

書抄 #5

Let us consider a life in whose course there is abundance of repetitions: mine, for example. I never pass in front of the Recoleta without remembering my father, my grandparents, and great-grand parents are buried there, just as I shall be some day; then I remember that I have remembered the same thing an untold number of times already; I cannot walk through the suburbs in the solitude of the night without thinking that the night pleases us because it suppresses idle details, just as our memory does; I cannot lament the loss of a love or friendship without meditating that one loses only what one really never had;  every time I cross one of the street corners of the southern part of the city, I think of you, Helen; every time the wind brings me the smell of eucalyptus, I think of Adrogué in my childhood; every time I remember the ninety-first fragment of Heraclitus “You shall not go down twice to the same river”, I admire its dialectical dexterity, because the ease with which we accept the first meaning (“The river is different”) clandestinely imposes upon us the second (“I am different”) and grants us the illusion of having invented it; every time I hear a Germanophile vituperate the Yiddish language, I reflect that Yiddish is, after all, a German dialect, scarcely coloured by the language of Holy Spirit. These tautologies (and others I leave in silence) make up my entire life. Of course, they are repeated imprecisely; there are differences of emphasis, temperature, light and general psychological condition. I suspect, however, that the number of circumstantial variants is not infinite: we can postulate, in the mind of an individual (or of two individuals who do not know of each other but in whom the same process works), two identical moments. Once this identity is postulated, one may ask: Are not these identical moments the same? Is not one single repeated term sufficient to break down and confuse the series of time? Do not the fervent readers who surrender themselves to Shakespeare become, literally, Shakespeare?

— Jorge Luis Borges. “A Refutation of Time.” Labyrinths: Selected Stories and Other Writings. Ed Donald A. Yates & James E. Irby. London & New York: Penguin, 1970. p258-9

留言 24 Nov, 09

書抄 #4

A schizophrenic out for a walk is a better model than a neurotic lying on the analyst’s couch. A breath of fresh air, a relationship with the outside world. Lenz’s stroll, for example, as reconstructed by Büchner. This walk outdoors is different from the moments when Lenz finds himself closeted with his pastor, who forces him to situate himself socially, in relationship to the God of established religion, in relationship to his father, to his mother. While taking a stroll outdoors, on the other hand, he is in the mountains, amid falling snowflakes, with other gods or without any gods at all, without a family, without  a father or a mother, with nature. “What does my father want? Can he offer me more than this? Impossible. Leave me in peace.” Everything is a machine. Celestial machines, the stars or rainbows in the sky, alpine machines— all of them connnected to those of his body. The continual whirr of machines. “He thought that it must be a feeling of endless bliss to be in contact with the profound life of every form, to have a soul for rocks, metals, water, and plants, to take into himself, as in a dream, every element of nature, like flowers that breathe with the waxing and waning of the moon.” To be a chlorophyll- or a photosynthesis-machine, or at least slip his body into such machines as one part among the others. Lenz has projected himself back to a time before the man-nature dichotomy, before all the co-ordinates based on this fundamental dichotomy have been laid down. He does not live nature as nature, but as a process of production. there is no such thing as either man or nature now, only a process that produces the one within the other and couples the machines together. Producing-machines, desiring machines everywhere, schizophrenic machines, all of species life: the self and the non-self, outside and inside, no longer have any meaning whatsoever.

— Anti-Oedipus: Capitalism and Schizophrenia. Deleuze & Guattari.

(Trans. Robert Hurley, Mark Seem, & Helen R. Lane)

2 則留言 18 Sep, 09

William S. Burroughs: Junkie

The pyramid of junk, one level eating the level below (it is no accident that junk higher-ups are always fat and the addict in the street is always thin) right up to the top or tops as there are many junk pyramids feeding on peoples of the world and all built on the basic principles of monopoly.

— William S. Burroughs. Naked Lunch

我們的社會秩序實在需要更多吸毒者與癮君子，他們的「失敗」引證了我們的成功與遁規蹈距，他們的「罪惡」內在於我們的偽善。吸毒者與癮君子愈年輕化，維繫社會秩序的賞罰制約愈早銘刻在少年的身體與意識裡。最需要罪犯的社會是警察社會。

留言 23 Aug, 09

幾乎是美麗的天色 3

或者直接說，抑鬱、鬱悶是一種無語。精神失常是一種無語。無語就是失常。

憂鬱症的世界是陰濕的、滯重的，而躁狂症的世界則是乾熱、躁動和鬆脆的。[...]一方面是一個潮濕的、經歷了大洪水的世界，在這個世界中，人對一切不是他獨有的恐怖充耳不聞、視而不見、麻木不仁，這個世界被極端地簡單化了，並被不合理地誇大其中的一個細部。另一方面則是一個焦乾的沙漠般的世界，在那裡，一切都是過眼煙雲、混亂不堪。

——福柯《瘋癲與文明》，頁116-117；引自tsw 的抄錄

是吧？但我覺得不能把這段節錄當成一種意涵完整的描述。經歷憂鬱症與躁狂症的那個人、那「經驗主體」在這段節錄中恰巧沒有出現、沒有被提到，而是引申的。那人可以是任何人。意思是說他／她可以僅指憂鬱症與躁狂症「患者」、或不。冠名政治的重要前提因此凸現：肉身缺席，或只能以隱蔽、被遮蔽的方式存在。譬如說「精神病患」說的都是醫科學生的無知語言，而她／他被那語言擋開了、切割成斷碎的肢體。

與許多人以為的相反，我沒有細讀過Foucault 的諸種著作，他說話的模樣倒是很可愛的，但他不是甚麼偶像、代言人，我覺得在談文說藝的公開場合有避談他的必要，他的名字正如許些思想家、學者的名字一樣在完全無關或關聯極待發掘的場合或語境中，總是突然被拿來當作一種「非政治」的、和稀泥式的言詞策略，供人對號入座，母須站立任何立場。傅柯前傅柯後的人既不知道牢獄、也不太知道精神病院、以至舊式公共屋邨到沒去過，他們跟你談論圓形監獄、bio-power…… 可總是恰恰忽略了受難者的自我意志與心聲。吊詭的是，當「受害人」或個別受害人羣體嘗試(再次) 以學究的論述或政經文化政治座標作為自我生存狀況的一種解釋或描述，「受害人」不得不面對一種撕裂：理論 vs 未被掘挖的真實；描述者 vs 被描述物；普遍的可援引性 vs 獨例所作的見證；那個撕裂是兩種位置之所以對立、劃分或懸置所待馳的力(force) 必然招致的撕裂，論述的主體和經驗的主體無法安然共處一室、一個身體，論述的主體在語言的脈胳與危險通路上雖然不是風馳電制的暢遊或悠然漫行、可是他到底廁身在語言那邊。「受害人」因為一時／長久的失語，總是在另一邊。或被語言逮住 (arrested)、擱置。

傅柯企圖——而必然失敗的——某種有關知識生產之系譜考據，許是與尼釆在On the Genealogy of Morals 想說的遙相呼應—— 尼采認為，執於凡事皆有「始作俑者」的尋源追溯，正正是一種受「語言的誘惑」所致的表現，在該書的 I, Sect 13 他以雷電(lightning) 與它的閃光(flash) 為例，指雷電並沒有「導致」閃光、閃光亦非雷電「所引致」的，雷電亦非甚麼可以或不可以導致任何事情發生、或不發生的「主體」，「行雷導致閃電」的因果關係不外是語言、文法上的邏輯，僵化的理性思考亦因循同樣謬誤，因此尼采說：

there is no “being” behind doing, effecting, becoming, “the doer” is a merely a fiction added to the deed— the deed is everything.

始作俑者或所謂「元兇」，實是語言、描述意志、判名政治的一個借代符號，是把符號的律則當成現象發生的律則，那幾乎等於以為命名世界而世界就真會聽任其命令運作一樣。而有很多人的確如此相信，論述的政治空間往往取汲於此，可是我們知道單單做批判論述並不等於「受壓廹者」就能因某種代言或論述空間的拓展或於此中重現，而重奪某種權力、或對自身的生存狀況、或與其他命運共同的人的生存狀況有了更深刻的體會。「受壓廹者」依然在語言邏輯的另外一邊生活、受難。

「憂鬱」與「狂躁」以至甚麼「經常焦慮症」、「過度活躍症」明明、亦僅僅是語言的類比，病稱、病患「身份」得以成立，首先建基於「病患」的所有經驗被醫藥業的語言隱去、或置放於特定的指派位置 (這裡說的置放｛to place、placement｝，除了指置放於一種論述脈胳，也指置放於一種實質的行政空間和私人生活空間的監控政治)。「病」的診斷(diagnosis)，分明是醫藥從業者的一種介入／觀察／傳繹、分類、推演、命名過程的結果。「致病原導致疾病、疾病引致病癥出現」、「病癥呈現背後有病、病背後有致病源」的語意邏輯卻經常給置換為切入／觀察／傳繹種種身體現象與「病理」的原則。

傅柯追溯的是十六世紀以降的部份歐陸醫藥文獻如何呈現、如何理解各種「瘋狂」及其物質性或身體上的「癥狀」與「病理」。他企圖追溯的是已經埋沒、消音的一種因為理性暴力和冷漠不仁而致成的啞默的生存狀況，無數被歸類、劃分為瘋狂／folie／unreason 的人共同的命運。然而這項追溯是必然失敗的：藥學的旨趣實與「病狂」的真相或「真實經驗」無關，從醫學與醫藥論述內部的所謂「發現」與「沿革」之修辭及範式轉移，可以追溯某種與啓蒙時代諸種文化、身體觀、自然觀相呼應(或焦慮要修正) 的論述、推理與演釋系譜。在同樣的所謂「發現」與「沿革」中間，也可以追溯到後工業革命資本主義所催生的科技條件，如何與醫學與精神醫學的執業相互衍生新的身體介入方式與生物「技術」，而此等技術學如何倒轉來又成為了醫藥論述的「前提」與「引證」。

可是，既然瘋狂只能以「病例」的形式出現，傅柯對醫藥文獻的考據並沒有重溯甚麼「瘋狂史」或「瘋人血淚史」，誠如布朗修在 “Michel Focault as I Imagine Him” 一文所言， 傅柯再次發現的是一道充滿挫傷的權力與政治、以至哲學意涵的切口：理性(Reason) 把所有異質切割開去、把所有「非理性」的人／事／身體／精神經驗摒拒於「現實」之外的切口。如果神權／教會指導的古典時代把俗人分為善良／奸惡，人事分為好／壞、或公義／不公義，啓蒙時期以降則為此等劃分的轉移和置換，人與人事只有「理性」與「不理性」之最重要劃分。醫藥論述與醫療執業的科技化、技術化與這個劃分歷史性轉向有密切關係，而這個劃分與轉向是各種形式的暴力與宰制達成和維繫的。

留言 23 Apr, 09

書抄 #2

(…) People are bad, good, clever, stupid, pleasant and unpleasant; but superfluous… no. That’s to say, if you want to understand me: the universe could get along without such people… of course; but uselessness is not their chief quality, not their distinctive characteristic, and when you talk about them the word “superfluous” is not the first one that springs to one’s tongue. But in my case, nothing else can be said about me: I’m superfluous and that’s all there is to it. Redundant – nothing else. Nature did not count on my appearance and therefore treated me like an unexpected and unbidden guest. One joker has said of me not inappropriately, keen on cards as he was, that I was the throwaway card in my mother’s hand. I talk about myself now calmly, with no bitterness… The game’s long over! During the course of my life I constantly found my place already occupied, perhaps because I looked for it in the wrong place. I was highly strung, pitifully shy, extremely irritable, like all ill people; in addition, perhaps through excessive self-regard or generally through the unsuccessful structure of my personality, there existed between my feelings and my thoughts — and the expression of these feelings and thoughts — some senseless, incomprehensible and impregnable obstacles. And when I tried to overcome this obstacle by force, to smash this barrier, my movements, my facial expression, my whole being acquired a look of intense effort: I not only looked, but I actually became unnatural and over-wrought: I felt this myself and hastened to return to what I was. Then a frightful panic would arise in me. I used to analyse myself down to the last thread, used to compare myself with others, recalled all the smallest glances, smiles and words of those to whom I’d tried to be frank, interpreted everything in a bad light, laughed viciously at my attempts “to be like the rest” — and suddenly, in the midst of my laughing, I’d give way to sadness, fall into ludicrous despondency and once again start the whole process all over again — in short, I went round and round like a squirrel on a wheel. Whole days went by in this tormenting, fruitless activity. Well, now just you tell me, to whom and for what is such a man necessary? Who knows and who will say why this happened to me, what was the cause of this nitpicking concern with myself?

I remember I was once travelling away from Moscow in a diligence. The road was good, but the driver hitched up a fifth horse to the four already in harness. This unfortunate fifth horse, completely useless, tied somehow to the shaft by a short, stout rope which mercilessly cut its haunch, rubbed its tail and forced it to run in the most unnatural fashion, lending its whole body the shape of a comma, always aroused in me profound pity. I remarked to the driver that on this occasion one could get by without a fifth horse… He said nothing, shook his head, lashed the horse ten times with his whip across its thin back and distended stomach — and muttered, not without a grin: “Look, it’s dragged itself along right enough! Devil knows why, eh?“

And I’ve dragged myself along just like that… though, thanks heavens, the post-station’s not far off now.

— Ivan Turgenev.

“The Diary of a Superfluous Man” First Love & Other Stories. Trans. Richard Freeborn. Oxford& NY: Oxford UP, 1989. pp33-34.

留言 25 Nov, 07

We were young & we made mistakes

我的其中一個偶像Morrissey 是個自戀狂。
後生到老都無變過。

10 則留言 13 Nov, 06

書抄 #1

…But if man is to find his way once again into the nearness of Being he must first learn to exist in the nameless. In the same way he must first recognize the seductions of the public realm as well as the impotence of the private. Before he speaks man must first let himself be claimed again by Being, taking the rsik that under this claim he will seldom have much to say. Only thus will the preciousness of its essence be once more bestowed upon the word, and upon man a home for dwelling in the truth of Being. But in the claim upon man, in the attempt to make man ready for this claime, is there not implied a concern about man? Where else does “care” tend but in the direction of bringing man back to his essence? What else does in turn betoken but that man becomes human? Thus humunitas really does remain the concern of such thinking. For this is humanism: mediatating and caring that man be human and not inhumane, “inhuman,” that is, outside his essence. But in what does the humanity of man conisit? It lies in his essence.

— M. Heidegger. Being and Time.
trans. John Macquarrie & Edward Robinson (NY: Harper & Row, 1962) pp199-200.

留言 22 Oct, 06

無名者的死／理想生活

從小樺的部落格讀到這段文字，寫了一些，又把另一些收起了。 「……因為五官隨著肌肉銷蝕殆盡，因為墓碑已經風化磨滅，因為記憶變得模糊不清，所以，當我們面臨要我們承認骨骸中已經不存在的人性的這種不曾衰減的要求時，要令人滿意地作出反應，是非常困難的。因此，我們就同它們交談起來。你是令譽滿身還是臭名昭著？——這樣我們可以知道應該贊頌你還是譴責你。你是壯年夭折還是壽終正寢？——這樣我們可以知道應該憐憫你還是尊敬你。你是男的還是女的？是漢族人還是少數民族？也許你就住在我們城裡，也許你還是我們的遠房親戚？這些問題屬於這樣的範疇：回答了它們，才有可能在人與人之間建立聯繫。死者緘默不語。可是我們克制不住要同他們交談的欲望，控制不了想把他們套進人際關係這張大網裡。」 ——宇文所安（stephen owen），《追憶——中國古典文學中的往事再現》（remembrance），鄭學勤譯。

歷史上著名的戰爭發動者有許多許多，他們是君王、豪強、獨裁者、野心家，至少也是個「戰爭罪犯」。除卻少數被聖象化以成歷史的大敘述的注脚，戰爭受難者的名字沒有多少人會記起。 除了他／她底親人朋友。 重看高達的《我所知道關於她的二三事》，裡面Juliette 與髮廊同事一同應召，還是讓我惴惴不安；她倆因為現代化巴黎的種種必須開支，下海服侍形色的嫖客，其中一位厭戰的隨軍攝記，著她倆用航空公司旅行袋懞頭，裸身行來行去而為前戲，Juliette問這幹啥，同伴答：「He likes that we don’t see」，Juliette就「突然想到」亞洲的一場戰役，影片剪接到著名的越戰生化武器受害者的臉孔特寫——

就算真主黨是恐怖主義組織吧。(我還是必須要問：為何有人支持恐佈主義，視之為可操作的政治手段？)
就算以色列復國真是堂正義直的歷史必然。(我還是必須要問：軍法殖民是否達致此目的唯一方法？)

如此約莫、泯滅可能的說法，我等生活在「遠方」舒安，望眼欲穿死盯著電視屏幕，依然不諳。 月來有關以色列入侵黎巴嫩的「新聞」，在於事務繁忙、「餐揾餐食餐餐清」的吾人，看著衛星傳送英美電視台提供的畫面，主播小姐郁身郁勢唸口黄，只能抑是冷寞、繼續手中所作，抑是像看球賽般數數看：今晨幾多支飛彈從這邊射過去那邊喇，至中午為止有幾多個國家的幾多萬名僑民已經從邊道撤出邊境…… 報道，又總是以邊一方的領導已經向邊一方發出通牒、又向聯合國班旁証提出抗議、邊D國家點樣譴責、點樣呼籲等等外交聲明作結。或者，偶然有「國際外交專家」分析談道：此期間阿邊個同邊個趁準局勢必將混亂，響邊個後欄位道會乘機入攝，以乜乜號召，引敵詢降，某方地面部隊壓境，可携帶核彈頭的洲際導彈已向邊樹的地面目標瞄準，對方亦打算派出乜野去干擾，而其實整個局勢，係乜乜大東亞大中東勢力均衡的軍政經貿戰略對決。

鏡頭一轉，另邊廂，由於原油價格預期昇穿60 美元一桶，阿拉伯球隊會打假波的呼聲日隆，黑市盤口高開，導致短炒市場出現大量沽盤，再加上東南亞南太平洋一帶海水溫差與斷流使然，令一度高壓脊正影響南海沿岸，為華南地區未來幾日帶來不明朗天氣，間中有狂風雷暴，市民上班前請留意電視及電台廣播，盡量使用公共交通公具，依家我地睇睇衛星圖：嗱！報紙係精神食糧用少個膠袋，我梗係識做……

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每到旺角廣華醫院後面，看到那些買槍玩、買軍服穿著、買軍用剩餘物資當潮飾的大男孩，他們大概也是如此理解，戰爭，或戰爭遊戲罷。

大屠殺、大割引、大劈價、大出血、大對决、大清算，以大歷史、大正義為前設，因之大、因之高、遠而未能言小。 細瑣的微小的故事。正如無名死者、無名受壓迫者的故事，血溶於歷史長河大水。

我城，自由貿易天堂、管理人死攬的鐵達尼號，Sale屎放工做 Shopper。非關資本、非關水脚物流、非關消費娛樂的一切異質、異事、異物，不容滋長、不必追問，或框定為匪夷所思、只能觀之嘩然聞之竊笑之事。 阿拉伯世界，聽來好Q遠，可一想到南隣西藏的東突厥斯坦，自然知道，其實係隔離，漢人與之來往起碼上溯西漢張騫出使西域、絲綢之路的通旅，及後唐朝至元朝不斷開譬，絲路西段北線達今日的哈薩克、吉爾吉斯、伊斯坦堡等地，中線與南線所經處更遠，中線遠達馬什哈德，亦即伊朗；南線達今日的巴基斯坦和印度，亦可經白沙瓦、喀布爾、巴格達、大馬士革往歐洲！那麼，如果阿拉伯世界聽來好Q遠，是歷史的倒退，還是歷史教育的倒退？

我非愛心爆棚、亦非熱血國際的理想青年，我僅是以非常微小的窺管觀看世界，想到去年孟加拉兩百幾個炸彈中午時份連環炸遍全國，我想起達卡和吉大港山脊的一些友人，想到只能在星期天老細放人才可披頭紗出街的印尼幫傭，想到重慶大厦的巴基斯坦餐室裡的食客每天還是想看家鄉的電視節目，想到欲在住處附近連起間清真寺祈下禱都俾人組織起來反對的新界穆斯林，想到無數無數外判或黑市僱請的建築與修路工人，當然還有「佐敦咖喱」的土製口味，尖沙咀Ned Kelly’s Last Stand的尼泊爾美少女侍應，和許許多多在廚房、後巷、梯間、閣樓工作的人…… 無論中文講得好吾好、住吾住公屋、有無身份證，都永遠被質疑的移民、徙民，其實大家係隔離鄰舍，擠廹香港，一樣係「餐揾餐食餐餐清」，時空壓縮的今日，遙遠他方的中東人、穆斯林，分分鐘近過我從上水出九龍。

時空壓縮的今日，上月德國舉行的足球賽事，就是那麼扣人心弦。球員的一傳一踢、斬波又好、刮個波又好、剁個波都好，精湛或水皮的球技，共時廣播、串流到幾百萬個電視屏幕、電腦屏幕。全城參與，賭波波、講波波、睇波波，是為「兒童化」與資本主義科技宰制生活選擇的完美極致。單一、重覆、去思辯、規模化的被動參與，如電子遊戲介面中的Player成了遊戲程式的輸入參項，虛擬的激動，正切中我城的苦悶。

學者Baudrillard稱言1992年美國攻打伊拉克根本没有發生，這個講法曾經令我的兩位紅顏知己爭論了一回。親歷災難、以何種形式親歷災難、甚麼為之親歷、現場在哪？時空壓縮的今日，plasma 和手机彩芒愈出愈大，乜野至少64萬色、乜野都是「高清」的今日，我們卻甚麼都看不見，形同目盲。想是專注於程式按鍵的魔幻時光中，太多Close Up 的關係，倒搞不清那必要的距離，沒有了距離感，親近不能親近，要疏遠的卻是已經摒拒界外而不覺。

距離感的失落，如戰爭難民班雅明所講，遠景印象和住在村落裡面生活所致的熟悉感，兩者排斥、相互的失落從缺。沒有了圖畫輪廓，何來立足一點、注視著生活的經營？沒有了骨架支撐人形輪廓，肌理的酵素分佈精算而無以能動。

就算真主黨是恐怖主義組織吧。 就算以色列復國真是堂正義直的歷史必然。

如此約莫、泯滅可能的說法，也就成立了。我還是要問為甚麼福建人會去伊拉克打工，為甚麼有尼泊爾女傭在黎巴嫩被僱主禁錮不准離開戰區返鄉…… 但因為「餐揾餐食餐餐清」的緣故，「揾餐食」其餘的事情不作它想。警察打人是「揾餐食」、市政追人落河又是「揾餐食」，放左工，幾大梗係要乜乜乜乜，要是有人要把我這個生活的甚麼拿去，我就同你死過！「他者」之所以被視為「他者」不是因為「他者」異己，不是因為紅鬍綠眼、不是因為又窮又嗅、不是因為唔識寫中文、不是因為他是男人她是女人、不是因為無身份證、不是因為攞吾攞福利…… 而是因為紅鬍綠眼、因為又窮又嗅、因為唔識寫中文、因為他是男人她是女人、因為無身份證、因為攞吾攞福利。

我們去理解任何事情的熱心、求知尋問的欲望，都被樣樣事情講求即時回饋的生活磨平—— 襟制要有野出、食野要大份、簽咭要有贈品、飲酒要摸下大脾、睇醫生要有藥食、八達通要自動增值…… 人被操練成廻路的feedback，唔好叫我諗野，我最怕諗野！

簡簡單既生活就係理想生活。

留言 10 Aug, 06