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Blacked Out

A well-known fact to many is that during his term in office, George W. Bush’s primary writing tool was not the common ballpoint pen or the antique fountain pen.

It was a black Sharpie marker. A close associate of Bush reveals that he would only accept Sharpies, demanding “Where’s the Sharpie?” if anything else was given to him.

The Sharpies were emblazoned with his signature and “The White House” printed on the side, and even had special camp David Sharpies.

The choice of writing utensil used by Bush is symbolic of the limitations of information flow and government secrecy that marked his presidency.

According to a source inside the White House, new aides were given a gift package that included a signed golf ball and baseball, tie clip, cufflinks, and a set of black Sharpies, all personally signed by the president.

It is likely that the black markers were meant to be used to obscure any facts the administration did not want the public to see.

The Bush administration’s penchant for excessive secrecy has been highlighted by many, including President Obama.

I’m particularly intrigued, though, not by the political discourse this has sparked, but by the ubiquitous black marks on confidential governmental documents and the redaction process involved.

These marks serve the purpose of concealing certain words, but also have the inadvertent consequence of conveying certain meanings.

They are neither a representation of the freedom of expression that pens symbolize, nor of the repression that swords have come to signify. Rather, they lie somewhere in between, both concealing and illustrating something.

When redacting is employed, it is meant to obliterate information, however, the use of a black marker actually alters the way we peruse these documents, prompting us to wonder and often harbor cynical and suspicious readings.

As redacted government papers leave government offices and reach the people, a curious shift appears to take place, leading to a paranoia within reason.

Considering the numerous government secrets that have been revealed in the 20th and 21st centuries, and especially since the Watergate scandal, it is not unexpected that people would be dubious of the impetus for government secrecy.

History has demonstrated that there have been heinous actions covered-up by influential figures, for example, some members of the Bush administration, and this only amplifies people’s paranoia.

Though reasonable paranoia holds a second, more subtle meaning, systems of rationale and bureaucracy have the capacity to produce it.

Regardless of the purpose of redaction, the black marks it generates have become a symbol of this paranoia.

Documents designed to erase meaning have instead become connected to a paranoid cosmology, one that takes on various meanings, from truth-concealing to the allure of state secrecy.

However, it usually does not signify the bureaucratic process of redaction.

A Dark Stain

A black mark on one’s record can have a negative impact on their future prospects. It can be something that casts a dark stain on their reputation for a long time.

The black marker, a tool employed in redaction and a symbol of it, is a fairly recent invention, amongst the other mundane office items created in the nineteenth and twentieth centuries, among them Wite-Out, carbon-copy paper, and paper clips.

In 1953, Sidney N. Rosenthal devised the marker by attaching a brush to a glass jar full of ink, allowing him to write on any surface, from plastic and metal to leather and cloth.

Afterwards, in 1970, he sold the rights to his invention, the “Magic Marker,” which were then bought by Binney & Smith, the parent company of the Crayola brand, in 1988.

Other firms started producing similar markers near the same time as Rosenthal, such as Paper Mate and Pentel. Sharpie produced its marker, later used by George W. Bush, in 1964.

Throughout the mid to late twentieth century, government secrecy underwent a noteworthy intensification with the advent of the black marker.

Thomas Blanton, a historian and the director of the National Security Archive, a Freedom of Information Act records clearinghouse, stated that by 1930, the entirety of America’s cryptological secrets could fit into a 25 foot square vault.

During and post World War II, the number of classified records surged astronomically due to the secrecy surrounding the Manhattan Project and the safeguarding of our nuclear weapons.

The National Security Act of 1947 and other government policies implemented a modified wartime secrecy as the Cold War took hold, which was labeled by Harold Relyea, a former Congressional Research Service scholar, as the “national security state.”

The full extent of the knowledge that the government holds back from the public is not easily determined.

According to the Information Security Oversight Office’s annual report, executive departments declared 23,421,098 categorized choices in 2008.

The irony of this remarkable stack of concealed documents is that any act of leaving out information, however perceived by some as a great transgression, cannot influence us until we eventually realize that we haven’t found out what we had hoped to.

Thanks to the Freedom of Information Act (FOIA) of 1966, citizens have been given the chance to ask for “secret” government records.

When the FOIA was created with the purpose of combating overly secretive government agencies, it resulted in the initiation of the black mark redaction procedure – a symbol of government secrecy.

Government officials, who have to abide by a list of nine exemptions, can delete certain portions of requested documents, commonly called “turning them black”.

The redaction process is not a law of secrecy, but rather one of access to information.

The Practice Of Redaction

Redaction is the process of omitting or obscuring confidential or sensitive information from a document before it is released.

It is a process used to protect the privacy of individuals, prevent the release of sensitive information, and protect classified information.

Redaction is a common practice for governments and other organizations when releasing documents.

The personnel who handle FOIA requests for the government are bewildered about the divergence between what is perceived and what is actually true regarding government secrecy.

The Freedom of Information Act, which was created in 1966 during the term of Lyndon Johnson, provides a set of bureaucratic rules that attempt to regulate the distribution of government information.

To ensure accuracy in their work, FOIA officers rely on the laws of the legislation, along with the Department of Justice’s yearly FOIA manual and conversations with organizations that have developed the required documents, to analyze and fulfill FOIA requests.

The Freedom of Information Act (FOIA) was not established to provide the public with access to government activities.

Instead, it was implemented as part of a larger framework to regulate the flow of information between bureaucratic offices. Prior to its implementation, government officials had the power to control the flow of information without any policy or code in place.

In order to keep the federal government’s vast and complex operations running smoothly, the assemblage of laws that make up FOIA was necessary.

Essentially, it allows citizens to have a space within the government’s bureaucracy, so the public can be “made government” in a sense.

Rather than questioning the government, requesters of FOIA must make explicit demands for particular documents.

This process can be likened to an extension of the responsibilities of the bureaucracy.

An FOIA officer is required, due to the law, to acquire the files that have been requested and then ascertain whether the individual asking for them (which could be anyone outside of government office) has the required authorization to access the record.

The original FOIA of 1966 was not designed to require bureaucrats to censor documents. If any part of a document was deemed classified, the entire document was withheld from the requester.

This, combined with other problems, meant it was not very effective in its first decade. Multiple amendments and legal rulings have been issued since then to help improve its effectiveness.

The 1974 amendment to FOIA mandated that any part of a document that is not exempt must be provided to the person who requested it, after removing the exempt portions.

This led to the practice of black marker redaction, which is what is commonly used today.

The worry with this practice is not that requesters can read between the lines, but rather that the redacted record no longer contains any significance.

The purpose of the redaction amendment, as explained by then Attorney General William Saxbe, was to combat the unnecessary secrecy of bureaucratic practices by preventing the withholding of whole documents just because some of the parts are exempt.

But when it was passed, the issue of how to ensure the proper use of redaction became the focus. The Department of Justice’s FOIA Training Manual stated that, “Segments of information, if disclosed, must have some meaning.”

This was further emphasized by a court ruling in 1977 that maintained, “the focus of the FOIA is information, not documents,” and that “non-exempt portions of a document must be disclosed unless they are inextricably intertwined with exempt portions.”

This means that any non-redacted segments of released records should be able to provide information between censored parts.

As an example, a word like the, which is not exempt under FOIA, should still be redacted if it appears in the middle of a confidential sentence since it is meaningless on its own.

The Department of Justice’s FOIA Update reinforces this idea, stating that the “primary consideration [of redaction] should be the ‘informational value’ of what can be disclosed.”

The law addresses the interpretation of redacted government documents in a clear-cut way for bureaucracy, according to what is considered “reasonably segregable.”

All segments of a document that have been blacked out have no meaning, while those that have not been blacked out must convey something. This was further clarified by Attorney General Saxbe’s 1974 Memorandum on FOIA to all executive departments and agencies.

When dealing with the concept of “reasonably segregable,” agency staff should start by determining which parts of the requested document should be deleted in order to protect the interest that is covered by the exemption.

After that, the remaining material (assuming it is related to the request) must be released if it is understandable. If it is not, this means that it is not “reasonably” separable from the rest.

The attorney general indicated that, when compared to earlier Senate discussions which recommended releasing even material that was not understandable, including “conjunctions, prepositions, articles and adverbs,” the wording of the amendment implied “that such incoherent excerpts do not have to be provided,” as “it appears to be without significance.”

A Gamble of Fate

A roll of the dice can decide the outcome of a myriad of situations and can be seen as a metaphor for life and the randomness of the universe.

For a long time, artists have explored different approaches to conveying meaning, obscuring it, and in some cases erasing it altogether, with one of the tools being the use of black marks – even if the official stance is that these marks have no significance.

In 1924, Man Ray contributed a piece to 391, a publication by Dadaists. The artwork consisted of seventeen rows of black horizontal lines, which, along with three dashes at the top, created a shape that suggested a poem.

Still, without any indication from Man Ray, it remains unclear whether the work was a poem or a cipher. Rather than a criticism of government secrets, Man Ray’s work was an exploration into the power of text to create meaning.

This is a common theme among the Dadaists—they were interested in deconstructing and experimenting with the accepted practices of reading and writing.

Man Ray was not engaging in any CIA secrecy practices in 1924, as the CIA wasn’t even established yet, and instead was likely discussing a concept that began in the late nineteenth century that experimented with the form of poetry.

The apex of this experimentation is evident in Stephane Mallarme’s 1897 poem, “Un coup de dés jamais n’abolira le hasard” (“A Throw of the Dice Will Never Abolish Chance”), which is spread across twenty pages and its words literally flow from one two-page spread to the next.

Different type sizes and fonts are used to emphasize the meaning of the poem and to draw the reader’s attention to the relationship between the words and their printed representation.

Additionally, a considerable amount of blank space is found throughout the poem, adding a kind of silence and creating meaning in itself.

Consequently, Mallarme is able to control the reader’s experience while still allowing them to interpret the poem in multiple ways.

Furthermore, he calls attention to the role of the typesetter, who is essentially an author and an artist of the poem. This poem, in essence, creates a gap between the content and the form of the writing.

In 1969, Marcel Broodthaers, a Belgian artist who was formerly a poet, took Mallarme’s “Un coup de des” and used it for a unique exploration into the design and form of poetry.

In his work, Broodthaers emphasized the poem’s graphic form and deemphasized the content by completely blacking out the poem and redacting the entire text.

This edition of the redacted poem was printed in a series of artist books crafted with various materials such as aluminum sheets, translucent paper, and regular paper.

Unlike Man Ray’s “poem,” which preceded the FOIA redaction amendment, Broodthaers’s work was not necessarily a comment on, critique of, or answer to government secrecy policies.

Rather, his piece was a study of how the form and layout of words can still communicate a message.

Mallarme’s poem, “Un coup de des,” serves as an example of how the use of typesetting can create a visual narrative that adds to the meaning of the written words.

This concept is still used by modern graphic designers in order to represent the battle between those seeking the truth and oppressive governments.

This design is often seen in book covers, such as Shahriyar Mandanipour’s Censoring an Iranian Love Story, David Price’s Threatening Anthropology: McCarthyism and the FBI’s Surveillance of Activist Anthropologists, and Brian De Palma’s film Redacted.

In these works, black marker redactions and typewritten text are used not to literally conceal words, but as a symbolic representation of the struggle against secrecy.

This unexpected evolution of blacked-out text reveals something incredible: textual production never renders thought in a direct manner, but instead conveys ideas through physical practices.

The act of redaction brings to light the fact that communication does not actually occur through covering up what is being said, but in the black mark itself.

This black mark serves to point to the act of redaction, highlighting the roles of the people involved and bringing to attention the various practices that have sustained the national security state since its origin.

The Logical Justification Behind Redacting Information

Secrecy has a certain allure and mystique which captures the attention of many people, even those within the bureaucratic environment.

As an example, I requested a Freedom of Information Act training video from the Department of Defense called The Right to Know, yet it was refused for a period of eighteen months.

When I eventually received the video, some copyright-protected clips had been removed. Interestingly, the training film was based on the movie Casablanca and featured a Humphrey Bogart-style detective narrator to encourage a sense of mystery.

This narrator followed two characters, “Veiled Lady” and “Large Man,” and explained the Department of Defense’s FOIA policies.

The intention was to make the subject entertaining, yet the poor production only highlighted the contrast between the imagined romance of government secrecy and its tedious reality.

In particular, when culture takes material form, it takes on a life of its own, where meanings may differ significantly from the original intention.

Government documents are an example of this phenomenon; secrecy and bureaucracy merge to create a space where interpretations may differ drastically.

Even though the intent of the bureaucrat is obscured by the black marker, these documents still remain cultural products.

In Joseph Heller’s renowned work Catch-22 (1961), the protagonist Yossarian is assigned the task of obscuring letters written by World War II soldiers with black marks.

He soon discovers the job to be incredibly tedious, so in order to make it more enjoyable he turns it into a game.

One day, he vehemently declared an end to all modifiers, eliminating every adverb and adjective from all letters he handled. Moving on, he then declared war on articles.

He achieved an even higher level of creative expression the following day when he blacked out every word in the letters other than a, an and the.

This, he believed, generated much greater interlinear tension and usually gave a far more comprehensive message.

Yossarian’s stint as a censor was unique in that he chose to utilize black marks to redact letters.

This action by Heller serves as a physical representation of the potential absurdity of authority, and Yossarian’s approach to wielding this power is portrayed as being random, comical and paradoxical.

Heller’s Catch-22 is a perfect representation of the peculiarities and the suspicious logic that outsiders come across when dealing with a bureaucratic system.

In his writing, Heller expresses this phenomenon through Yossarian’s attempts to understand the rules and regulations of the system, which always manage to elude him.

Yossarian’s black marks are also designed in such a way that they remain an enigma.

For those who are not well-versed in the bureaucracy, it can be a very daunting task to decipher what is going on behind the scenes.

Heller’s work offers insight about how non-experts comprehend redacted records–not from a legalistic viewpoint, but in the way a rational person would.

The unintended results of the overabundance of bureaucratic codes, regulations, and judicial precedents have produced bizarre outcomes.

The hidden information is directly in front of us, requiring us to trust the government has applied the laws of confidentiality accurately, even if they haven’t, we can’t be aware of it.

Heller’s message is clear–the only “sensible” reaction to these events is suspicion.

Injustice of Appearance

Aesthetic injustice is an affront to those who experience it. It encompasses the unfair distribution of resources and opportunities that are based on a person’s physical appearance.

People of all genders, ages, and races can suffer from this type of injustice. It can involve discrimination in the workplace, school, or social settings.

Furthermore, it can involve unequal access to goods, services, and healthcare. Aesthetic injustice is a serious problem that needs to be addressed in order to make the world a more equitable and fair place.

The intriguing contrast between openness and secrecy is notable in Arnold Mesches’ series of paintings (2000-’03) and Jenny Holzer’s paintings and projections (2004-’09). Both works directly borrow heavily redacted FOIA documents.

Although they don’t use actual black markers in their art, the black marker is still an obvious source of inspiration, curiosity, and frustration for the artists.

Mesches’s series is a self-examination. In the 1940s, he was engaged in various leftist demonstrations, causes, and civil-rights campaigns.

Years later, he was made aware that the FBI had been investigating him between 1945 and 1972, when he received a 760-page FBI file via an FOIA request.2 This prompted him to create the FBI Files, a series of paintings where he copied parts of the redacted documents onto canvas.

He was drawn to the beauty of the documents, which reminded him of Franz Kline’s works.

He combined them with pop-culture images of individuals like Rosa Parks and Richard Nixon to form “contemporary illuminated manuscripts” that symbolized the political atmosphere of suspicion and conflict between the government and many of its citizens at the time he was under surveillance.

Mesches was mindful of the similarities between this era and the early 2000s, when the Bush regime was creating a similar feeling of suspicion and paranoia.

Holzer acquired her works from FOIA requests, however, not from her own private archives.

She procured the documents from the National Security Archive at George Washington University and many of them had already been made available to the public and employed by journalists to refute some of the Bush administration’s justifications for starting the Iraq War.

Holzer’s art, such as the Redaction Paintings and the Truth Before Power series of projections on the walls of big cities, are all a part of her continuing research into discourse within the public domain.

Her pieces are often driven by her criticism of American society and her fervent wish to achieve social equity.

In both circumstances, these creative individuals raise a similar issue: While words are designed to bring truth to us, what takes place when words are redacted? Not just erased, but blotted out, crossed out, or scratched out? The written word is not present, but the shape is still there.

There is a major contrast between erasure and redaction. With erasure, the reader never knows what they should not have read, seen, or heard.

But with redaction, the reader is mindful that they cannot access information that truly exists. The black marks are making fun of us, indicating that we don’t have the necessary authority or clearance to access this data.

This understandably sets off the ire of truth-seekers such as Mesches and Holzer.

In certain situations, it is difficult for a curious reader not to be captivated when some information is hidden from them.

It provokes a sense of mystery, as thoughts rush in to fill the gap.

Speculations arise, as do conspiracy theories. Robert Storr’s essay on Jenny Holzer’s artworks, which appears in the series’s catalog, serves as an example.

He begins by noting the paradox of those who commit criminal acts often preserving evidence of their deeds, then goes on to compare the Bush administration to that of Nazi Germany, Soviet Russia, and Pol Pot’s Cambodia.

However, the black marks on the paintings can imply anything, and it may just be a ploy. The true nature of the content remains unknown.

The link between the beauty of the black mark and the logic of redaction can be clearly seen in these artworks.

Mesches and Holzer manage to stimulate strong emotions when the truth is blocked, which often produces feelings of injustice. However, these artists are restricted in their ability to depict this common form of power and control.

The black marks, which Mesches calls beautiful, offer a stark contrast between the typewriter of a bureaucrat and the quick scrawl of a marker.

Before it was taken away, the truth was only ours. This is all part of the cultural fascination that surrounds redacted documents.

Analyzing The Subtext

By reflecting on redaction, it becomes apparent it is a game of interpretation. What is so captivating about this game is not merely the contemplation of the censored events, but appreciating the finite nature of the redaction.

The context of a particular document, clause, or sentence restricts the text underneath. Taking into account the amount of space covered, the font size, and the font type, allows us to limit the possibilities.

For example, is the concealed word a country or a location? It could not be Turkmenistan due to its length, but could it be India or Japan? Or maybe the Soviet Union was used in place of the USSR?

The reader is pulled into a game of hangman, attempting to make sense of the government’s lingo, abbreviations, and references.3

In Joseph Weisberg’s 2008 novel An Ordinary Spy, he utilizes redaction as a literary tool. The novel tells of a young man’s journey as introduced to the CIA’s clandestine world, all in the tone of a bureaucratic voice.

To create a sense of mystery, Weisberg has redacted words, sentences, and even entire sections of the novel.

Thus, it is impossible for the reader to ascertain the true setting of the story due to the author’s decision to obscure these details.4

Rather than the action-packed spy thrillers of Ian Fleming, Weisberg’s espionage tale is more akin to those of John le Carre or Graham Greene.

Here, the emphasis is on how a typical spy follows the instructions given by the CIA teachers. Much like any modern job in the information age, the most difficult part of the technocrat’s job is determining whether to stick to the rules or take some initiative.

Though this gets the protagonist into a bit of a scrape, it also allows him to figure out what he really wants out of the story.

Weisberg had good cause to publish the novel in a censored version. His past with the CIA made it mandatory for him to let the Publications Review Board inspect any of his writings connected to his previous intelligence service.

Through interviews, Weisberg mentioned that he redacted his text before the review board even got a chance to look at it, and he might have made extra omissions after the CIA had their say.

The book created has an eerie quality that is not totally favorable.

All geographic names outside of the United States have been removed. It can be assumed that the narrative is taking place in Asia, and likely a previous British colony as the locals communicate in English.

Moreover, customs, cuisine, and history have all been redacted, causing the characters who are natives to this unfamiliar land to appear shallow and without any local context. It is as if they could exist anywhere in the third world.

The multiple layers of meaning that are usually afforded by cultural and historical context have been flattened out due to the redactions, while at the same time they give insight into the culture of government secrecy.

Weisberg and his cohorts in the CIA redacted details of practices employed by the agency, such as “dead drops” and “surveillance detection runs.”

These practices are outlined in bulk portions of the novel, with large amounts of the text blacked out.

For example, on page 162, the CIA man is teaching his foreign agent contact tradecraft and the entire next page is redacted, except for the phrase “Ralph took it off and put it in his lap.”

Despite careful examination, the context of the blacked-out text remains a mystery.

Weisberg’s redaction is effective, but he does not appear to have an understanding of the peculiar metaphysics of the black mark.

Considering he was both the author and the redactor, it is understandable why he does not embrace the obscurity of redaction.

Additionally, due to his CIA background, Weisberg is aware of how typical and formulaic black marker redaction really is.

The Irony of Paranoia that was Unintentional

The irony of it all is that the paranoia which has been caused was not something that was planned.

In the process of crafting this essay, I uncovered an impressive profundity and intricacy in the space between the understanding and the reality of governmental secrecy. It became clear that black marker redaction truly symbolizes this gap itself in numerous ways.

During a Freedom of Information Act training seminar that I attended in Dallas, TX back in 2002, our instructor went over the law in its entirety. This included a comprehensive overview of the DOJ’s hefty, four-inch-thick manual.

As the course progressed, we eventually reached the topic of redaction. After discussing what constitutes “reasonably segregable” parts of a document, our teacher offered a more down-to-earth perspective.

Black markers are not the writing instruments of choice for bureaucrats.

The realization of the difference between my own perception and reality of government secrecy suddenly became quite clear. Before FOIA officers redact parts of a document, they make a copy of it.

Then, they use a red or brown marker to highlight the sections that are not allowed to be accessed. When this version of the document is put through a photocopier set on high contrast, a new document with black marks is produced.

The original red marker document is then saved in the agency’s records, so that other bureaucrats can observe what has been redacted.

Furthermore, if a black marker was used, it would be difficult to determine the redactions without comparing the document with the original side by side.

This whole process gave me the impression that this is the kind of knowledge that people in bureaucratic roles pick up from conversations during coffee breaks.

The discrepancy between the way citizens interpret redacted documents and the way they are made by the bureaucracy is further evidenced by the difference between red and black markers.

FOIA was not designed for redaction, though it has become an innovation to enhance information access.

However, the black marks have taken on an existence of their own in the public sphere, which was never intended when the documents were first redacted.

Anne Rorimer has noted that, in some of his works, Marcel Broodthaers employed a “magic-marker” to black out, type an X through, or strike through sections of his writings as a form of artistic expression.

Even if he didn’t use a black marker for this particular work, he did use it in other pieces.

This was actually a request in terms of the Privacy Act, since FOIA does not cover personal documents which are usually barred from being exposed.

Still, the way in which redaction is handled in a Privacy Act request is similar, and Mesches mentions FOIA in reviews and interviews connected to his work.

Skilled FOIA readers take advantage of the annotations featured in the margins of redacted documents.

These notations allow bureaucrats to indicate the corresponding exemption used to obscure a particular section (e.g., “b6” would refer to exemption 6, which includes withholding of private or confidential data).

For more specific details, he opts to use computer-generated rectangles with a dark, black hue.

Possible Alternatives

The use of technology within the classroom setting has become increasingly prevalent.

As technology advances, this trend is only likely to grow. Instruction is being revolutionized by the introduction of various tech-driven solutions, allowing teachers to present lessons to their students in new and more engaging ways.

It can be argued that the incorporation of such technology has the potential to significantly boost the quality of education that students receive.

The utilization of technology has allowed for an increase in the speed and efficiency of communication.

This has made it possible for people to connect with one another more rapidly and with greater ease than ever before.

By taking advantage of the various tools available, it is now simpler than ever to communicate in a timely manner with others no matter the distance.

It is possible to avoid plagiarism by altering the form of a text without altering its context and the real meaning behind it. One way to do this is to change the structure of the text while keeping the same concept.

This can ensure that the same message is being conveyed, just in a different way.

A number of zeros can be identified as a 00000.

He never looks back, although he is aware of my presence.

He yells out: “Stop at the brink of the cliff or your body won’t be able to take the rage.”

He turns and perceives the purple hue that is billowing from me. He shakes his head, and the sun

sets into the trees.

He spots the shade of the devil behind me. (He must have beheld Badanxin’s grin and

listened to the azaleas singing.)

August, evade the crows. Rise and shine early in September. He forecasts that you will have a

fantastic future, but evil spirits will obstruct your way.

Another man appears on the lane and the stranger vanishes. I become restive. Could he be

my fortune?

We pass each other, our shoulders brush, then he will catch up with me in this maze of ruins.

A crow passes over August’s temple.

I shut my eyes, and the crow proclaims, “Do not be scared. Your body is not yours, it is an

inn for other people.”

B 00007 can be referred to as a numerical identifier. It is used to differentiate distinct items from each other.

A clever female gets stuck underneath a telephone pole,

Her spoken words are heard by those below the surface.

A man inside a cave is shaving and cuts himself.

The disappeared are trudging around.

My soul discovers mysteries in the searchlight–the orange corpses of the

vanished.

He ascends the wall, gazes at the flowers, and then they start to shriek and he

falls.

Has he reverted to his childhood, is this death or immortality?

Venturing, the sound of wind and rain in the distance, he crashes into an

acquaintance who owes him money.

The friend has a panicked smile on his face.

Hungry, they hug, refusing to discuss finances.

Beyond the theater, beyond the laundromat, they sneak into a feast as

undercover,

Looking for a basement toilet.

Three cops capture them, eighteen women charge them with indecency.

The debtor attempts to present a fake pass but instead pulls out a container of

Tiger Balm.

“Please accept this humble offering,” he says. But they bind his eyes, take him to

imprisonment

While he screams I’m so and so.

When he yanks off the blindfold, he’s standing on the sunny road of his

hometown.

Question number 10014

He proclaimed:

The planet needs creativity. Every moment, every hour, the globe is dreaming up its own reality: red skies, verdant mornings, feathered creatures soaring and vegetation flourishing, courageous people in each era…

In my father’s imagination, I can be as tall as nine feet and as a reward, he will give me one hundred ounces of gold to help alleviate the distress of those around me. Imagination is essential for the world, and this is my way of making a difference.

I offered a recompense for the victim’s creative juices, yet they insisted on overthrowing the counter-revolutionaries. To start, I saved my sister, and put her husband in prison.

In the autumn, the air was turbulent and the waters were surging. I envisioned my sibling’s season of rebirth, when I would be with my own beloved. When the birds migrate to the south, my child will have come into the world.

In an effort to avoid revenge, I secreted my son away in the basement. While there, I stumbled upon my father’s corpse; he would not flick on the light, take a rest, fall ill, or be reborn.

He verbally attacked me and wanted his gold back. I inquired as to what the fuss was about.

“What good have you done? Who have you conquered? I was well aware of the wickedness you caused my mother!” He started to rant again.

It’s all in the past now, but my son has grown up. He is a genius and could have anything he wanted, however he is apathetic and I think he might have a brain injury.

I beseech the crows to bring me away! If Lin Biao was daring enough to betray Chairman Mao, then my child may do the same to me. If he is not able to acquire gold, I’m sure he will murder me when the leaves start to change color.

Using a different structure, the same idea can be expressed as: It is possible to avoid plagiarism by changing the way in which the text is structured without altering the context and meaning. Keeping the same semantic significance is essential to ensure that the text is not plagiarized.

By restructuring the text, one can remove any trace of plagiarism. This can be accomplished by altering the structure of the words and phrases while at the same time maintaining the same context and semantic meaning.

The power of technology is undeniable. It has revolutionized our way of life and created numerous opportunities.

We can now do things that were once impossible or impractical, such as communicating across vast distances, accessing a world of information, and harnessing nature’s resources to create amazing products.

Technology has played an essential role in making our lives easier and more enjoyable.

Ninety-six is the number.

The cold has invaded the city,

and at 3 p.m. the sky is turning to a murky gray.

Everyone is feeling the chill,

Some are fearful of life, others have lost their interest in adventures.

Wrapping their coats closer,

but when a beautiful woman enters their vision,

even if it’s just a glimpse of her back,

the cold’s hold on them dissipates.

Hope for life reignites,

the traveler feels the urge to explore again.

The man from Kunming, who loathed cold weather,

suddenly drops his collar, exposing his neck, rosy from the cold.

A quantity of one hundred is present.

The glowing afternoon sun penetrates the depths of the room,

illuminating the dishes in the cupboard,

the salt and pepper shakers on the gas stove,

and the small square stool beneath the table.

The sun rearranges the hues of the pantry,

providing a spark in the darkness.

Suddenly, I discover the lost

silver spoon.

A hundred and two is the number.

The vehicle speeds across the elevated plain

As the border of the untouched woodlands comes into view

A phantom doe

Jumps into my soul

Yet I no longer have a brook or meadow

To maintain it there.

By altering the structure while preserving the context and the semantic meaning, any plagiarism can be avoided. That is to say, the text can be reworded to create a unique document.

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