The Art of Clear Thinking

The Art of Clear Thinking Plot Summary

Introduction

Imagine standing in the cockpit of an F-16 fighter jet, traveling at 1,500 miles per hour, when suddenly warning lights flash across your dashboard. Your aircraft begins shaking violently. In that moment, you have mere seconds to assess the situation, choose a course of action, and execute it flawlessly—or face catastrophic consequences. While most of us will never pilot a supersonic aircraft, we all face our own version of critical decisions every day, often with incomplete information and under significant pressure. Decision-making is perhaps the most fundamental skill we need to master, yet it's rarely taught in schools or workplaces. Instead, we're left to develop this crucial ability through trial and error, sometimes at great personal or professional cost. By understanding how fighter pilots approach decision-making—through a systematic process of assessing situations, choosing options based on expected value, and executing with precision—we can dramatically improve our own ability to navigate life's complexities. Whether you're leading a team through organizational change, making career decisions, or simply trying to optimize your daily choices, the principles in these pages will help you cut through noise, overcome cognitive biases, and develop the mental clarity needed to consistently make better decisions.

Chapter 1: Assess: The Foundation of Good Decision-Making

On May 31, 2009, Air France Flight 447 took off from Rio de Janeiro bound for Paris with 228 people aboard. The Airbus A330 was one of the most advanced commercial aircraft in the world, equipped with sophisticated automation systems designed to keep it flying safely in virtually any condition. For the first few hours, the flight progressed normally as it crossed the Atlantic Ocean. As the aircraft entered an area of thunderstorms near the equator, ice crystals began forming on the plane's airspeed sensors, causing them to provide inconsistent readings. This triggered the autopilot to disconnect, handing control back to the human pilots. The aircraft was perfectly flyable—all they needed to do was maintain level flight while the sensors defrosted, which would happen within minutes. Instead, the pilot flying, Pierre-Cédric Bonin, pulled back on his control stick, putting the aircraft into a steep climb. Despite warnings from the more experienced copilot, Bonin continued pulling back, causing the aircraft to stall at 38,000 feet. "We've lost control of the plane!" Bonin shouted as the aircraft began falling toward the ocean. The captain, who had been resting, rushed into the cockpit but couldn't immediately understand what was happening. The pilots never correctly assessed the situation—they didn't realize the plane was in a stall, and therefore never applied the simple recovery procedure of pushing the nose down to regain airspeed. Four minutes and twenty-three seconds after the autopilot disconnected, Flight 447 crashed into the Atlantic, killing everyone on board. The tragedy of Flight 447 illustrates a fundamental truth about decision-making: without a proper assessment of the problem, it's impossible to consistently make good decisions. Assessment is the foundation upon which all subsequent choices rest. When flying a fighter, one of the first phrases pilots learn is "maintain aircraft control, analyze the situation, take proper action." This sequence is critical—you must first stabilize the situation, then understand what's happening before taking action. In our daily lives, we often rush to solve problems before we truly understand them. We're biased toward action, believing that the sooner we start fixing a problem, the sooner we'll solve it. Fighter pilots have a counterintuitive technique to prevent this impulse: they "wind the clock" before making decisions. This seemingly useless process forces them to pause for a few seconds, preventing them from rushing to solve the problem and allowing their brains to properly assess the situation. The key to effective assessment is developing a systematic cross-check—a methodical way to gather and process information. This means looking at multiple data sources, considering different perspectives, and being careful not to fixate on a single piece of information at the expense of the bigger picture. By building this habit of thorough assessment before action, you create the foundation for consistently making better decisions, whether in the cockpit or the boardroom.

Chapter 2: Power Laws: Understanding Nonlinear Relationships

I was in a dogfight against one of the most experienced instructor pilots on the base, a decorated colonel with multiple combat deployments. As our F-16s merged at over 1,000 miles per hour, I immediately turned hard to engage him. Under nine times the force of gravity, blood drained from my head as my vision narrowed to a tunnel. When I saw him pull straight up into a vertical climb, I decided to match his maneuver despite being slightly slower than optimal—by just five knots, or six miles per hour. I assumed this small speed difference would have minimal impact. I was catastrophically wrong. As I approached the top of the loop, my airspeed rapidly decreased until the aircraft stalled. Warning horns blared as the jet's nose snapped downward at negative 2.4 g's, pulling me off my seat with over 500 pounds of force. The aircraft began tumbling uncontrollably, dropping thousands of feet in seconds. I reached between my legs to locate the ejection handle, preparing for the worst as the ground rushed toward me. What I had failed to understand was that aircraft performance doesn't change linearly with airspeed—it follows a power law. Being just five knots too slow didn't make the maneuver slightly more difficult; it made it impossible. This is the essence of power laws: small changes in input can produce disproportionately large changes in output. Our brains are naturally biased toward linear thinking. If you walk thirty steps, you're thirty steps away from where you started; to walk twice as far, it'll take twice as long. But many real-world relationships don't work this way. Consider compound interest: if I gave you a penny that doubled in value each day for a month, how much would you have after thirty-one days? Most people guess a few hundred dollars. The actual answer is over $10 million—a result of exponential growth that our minds struggle to intuitively grasp. Power laws govern countless systems in our world. In business, the network effect means that platforms like Facebook or Airbnb grow in value exponentially with each new user. In wealth distribution, the Pareto principle shows that roughly 80% of outcomes come from 20% of causes. In nature, Kleiber's law demonstrates that an animal's metabolism doesn't scale linearly with its size—a cat weighing one hundred times more than a mouse requires only thirty-two times the energy. To make better decisions, we must learn to identify these nonlinear relationships. One technique is to graph the data—raw numbers are abstract, but visualizations help us recognize patterns. Another approach is to use extreme data points to reveal the underlying relationship. Any graph can look linear when zoomed in enough, but by "zooming out" to see the bigger picture, nonlinear patterns become evident. Understanding power laws allows us to identify tipping points—critical thresholds where small changes produce dramatic effects. In my fighter jet example, being slightly below the minimum airspeed for a vertical maneuver wasn't just suboptimal; it was the difference between success and potential disaster. By recognizing these nonlinear relationships in your own field, you can focus your efforts where they'll have the greatest impact, avoid catastrophic thresholds, and make decisions that account for the true nature of the systems you're dealing with.

Chapter 3: Learned Lessons: Building Your Decision Framework

Nangarhar Province, Afghanistan: 1730 Local Time. My wingman and I were racing across the country in our F-16s to support a convoy of U.S. Army Rangers pinned down under enemy fire. Flying at maximum speed, we arrived within minutes and began coordinating with the troops. After dropping several GPS-guided bombs on machine gun nests, we turned to our laser rockets—a new weapon in our inventory that I could guide after firing. As the sun set and a storm formed, I found myself out of bombs and rockets, with only the aircraft's gun remaining—a relic from a previous era that we used only as a last resort. Unlike smart weapons that are highly procedural to employ, the gun requires exceptional stick-and-rudder skills and a deep understanding of the complex geometry involved. You must account for your dive angle, airspeed, the trajectory of the bullets, and safely pulling out of the dive—often bringing you just one hundred feet above the ground. In the fading light, I could see muzzle flashes from enemy fighters as they continued shooting at the Rangers. I dove toward the target, accelerating past 500 miles per hour. Squeezing the trigger, I felt the six-barrel Gatling gun violently shake the plane as it unleashed 6,000 rounds per minute toward the enemy position. After a several-second burst, I released the trigger and pulled back on the stick, feeling the g-force push me into my seat as I watched the rounds impact along the tree line. The rising terrain made the recovery challenging—it was almost the same gradient as my climb, meaning I stayed the same distance above the ground as I ascended. I turned toward a gap in the ridgeline and increased my pull, finally passing through with the rock walls falling below my aircraft. Over the radio, the troops confirmed the strafing pass was successful; I had taken out the fighters in the middle, though two machine-gun emplacements remained. How was I able to execute this complex maneuver in such challenging conditions? The answer lies in how fighter pilots learn and build their decision frameworks. We don't just memorize procedures—we develop a deep understanding of concepts that become second nature through deliberate practice. This approach to learning follows several key principles that anyone can apply to improve their decision-making. First, we prioritize concepts over facts. While facts are important, they're like leaves on a tree—useless if not connected to branches (principles) and a trunk (core concepts). Every piece of information we learn is tied to why it matters and how it connects to the bigger picture. This creates a robust mental framework that can adapt to changing conditions rather than breaking down when faced with novel situations. Second, we make training learner-centered. People come from diverse backgrounds and see the world differently. Effective learning connects new concepts to a person's existing understanding rather than forcing everyone into the same mold. This means customizing training to individual strengths and weaknesses, reducing class sizes for more personal attention, and grouping students with similar experience levels. Third, we embrace coaching over evaluation. Instead of viewing instructors as gatekeepers who weed out deficient pilots, we see them as coaches who help talented students reach their potential. When a student fails to meet expectations, we treat it as a failure of the system, not just the individual. This creates a culture where mistakes become learning opportunities rather than career-ending events. Fourth, we continually assess where technology can augment training. From high-fidelity simulators to virtual reality and laptop-based training programs, we use a spectrum of tools to provide the right level of immersion for each learning objective. This allows students to practice concepts repeatedly in safe environments before applying them in the air. By building your decision framework using these principles, you develop the ability to make better choices even in unfamiliar situations. The goal isn't to have a perfect answer for every possible scenario, but to create an interconnected web of understanding that allows you to rapidly adapt to whatever challenges you face.

Chapter 4: Fast-Forecasting: Making Decisions Under Uncertainty

Parwan Province, Afghanistan: 0200 Local Time. My wingman and I were returning from a five-hour strike mission when I noticed a yellow glow emanating from beyond the towering mountains ahead. We were still over a hundred miles from Bagram Air Base, but its bright security lights were causing the dusty air to glow high into the night sky. As we approached the base, the control tower suddenly reported that the runway had been hit by mortar fire and we needed to immediately abort our landing. Looking down, I could see what looked like glowing orange ropes climbing into the sky—the base's defensive anti-mortar systems had activated, sending thousands of explosive rounds into the air to intercept incoming projectiles. We now faced a critical decision with minimal fuel remaining. Our options were limited: attempt to land on the damaged runway, divert to another airfield hundreds of miles away, or try to intercept a refueling tanker that was operating in the area. Each choice carried significant risks. Landing on the damaged runway could cause our jets to cartwheel if we hit a crater. Diverting would likely result in running out of fuel. Meeting the tanker required precise timing and execution with almost no margin for error. With just minutes to decide, I used a technique called fast-forecasting to quickly assess the expected value of each option. For the damaged runway, I estimated the probability of hitting a crater at about 6%, with a 50% chance of that causing a catastrophic crash—giving roughly a 97% survival rate. For ejecting after running out of fuel, I estimated a 98% survival rate for the ejection itself, but a high chance of injury and capture by enemy forces. Meeting the tanker had about a 95% chance of success, but if it failed, we'd be forced to eject over mountainous terrain far from the base. After running these mental calculations in seconds, I developed a hybrid plan: we would attempt to intercept the tanker while maintaining enough fuel to return to Bagram if refueling failed. This gave us one shot at refueling while preserving our fail-safe option of landing. The margins were razor-thin—once we hit our minimum fuel level, we would need to immediately abort the refueling attempt and head back to the base. Fast-forecasting is an essential skill for making decisions under uncertainty and time pressure. It relies on extrapolating our intuition to approximate the expected value of different options. Unlike precise mathematical models that can be paralyzed by incomplete information, fast-forecasting embraces uncertainty and focuses on the few variables that, due to power laws, drive most of the outcome. The human brain is extraordinarily powerful—in one second, nearly twenty trillion impulses of information course through our neurons. What can take computers millions of steps to calculate can often be done in just a few hundred neuron transmissions. We're particularly adept at finding causation, not just correlation, which allows us to anticipate when patterns will change—something computers struggle with. To effectively use fast-forecasting, simplify the problem to its essential elements. Don't get overwhelmed by details or strive for false precision. Start with the big picture and gradually add detail until you have enough resolution to make a decision. Some decisions will be obvious early on, while others will require more refinement. Remember that all decisions come with uncertainty and risk. The goal isn't to find a perfect solution but to eliminate clearly suboptimal options and identify the choice with the highest expected value. By thinking critically and embracing uncertainty rather than being paralyzed by it, you can make better decisions even with incomplete information and limited time.

Chapter 5: Creativity: Finding Innovative Solutions

On January 16, 1991, a dusty rental car sped across the tarmac at Al Jouf forward operating base in Saudi Arabia. Inside was the base commander, who had just received a top-secret message: in twelve hours, his crews would launch the opening salvo of the Gulf War. Their mission was critical—they needed to destroy Iraq's early-warning radar sites to create a corridor for coalition fighters to slip through undetected and strike targets throughout the country. The problem was finding a way to attack these radar sites covertly. If any radar detected an approaching aircraft, they would immediately alert Iraq's formidable air defense network. Conventional fighters would be spotted as soon as they crossed the border. Cruise missiles lacked the flexibility to adjust if the targets had moved, which the Iraqis frequently did. The solution came from an unexpected source. Captain Randy O'Boyle, who flew the MH-53 Pave Low helicopter, suggested that his helicopters could guide Army AH-64 Apache gunships—dedicated attack helicopters equipped with Hellfire missiles and 30mm cannons—to destroy the radar sites. The Pave Lows were the only helicopters in the world with both GPS receivers and terrain-following radar, allowing them to navigate the featureless desert at night. The Apaches had the firepower needed to ensure complete destruction of the targets. The joint team, dubbed Task Force Normandy, began training together in the Saudi desert. Flying at night without moonlight was challenging—the helicopters needed to maintain just three-rotor separation while flying fifty feet above rolling sand dunes. Anything higher would allow the radar sites to detect them. The high temperatures and blowing sand created mechanical challenges, while the limited range of the Apaches posed logistical problems. One young pilot suggested attaching external fuel tanks to the Apaches' weapons pylons—an unconventional solution that reduced their missile capacity but extended their range enough to complete the mission. On January 17, 1991, at 12:56 a.m., four Pave Lows and nine Apaches took off in two formations. After flying ninety minutes in radio silence just fifty feet above the ground, they reached their targets. The Apaches unleashed a devastating barrage of missiles, rockets, and cannon fire, completely destroying the radar sites in less than five minutes. With the radar blind spots created, hundreds of coalition aircraft streamed across the border, beginning what would become one of the most decisive military victories in modern history. Task Force Normandy exemplifies the power of creative problem-solving through an approach called effects-based operations. Rather than being constrained by traditional doctrine or available tools, the planners focused on the desired outcomes and worked backward. This approach follows several key principles that can enhance creativity in any field: First, start with the desired end state and work backward. Instead of beginning with available resources and seeing what can be accomplished, identify what needs to be achieved and then determine how to get there. This prevents planning from becoming excessively process-driven and helps maintain focus on the ultimate objective. Second, focus on effects over tools. Break down requirements to the point where they're not tied to specific tools or processes. By identifying the effects needed—in this case, finding radar sites, remaining undetected, destroying them, and confirming their destruction—you open yourself to innovative solutions that might otherwise be overlooked. Third, generate alternatives that encompass the required effects. Start by prioritizing the effects in numerical order, then identify solutions that satisfy just the most important effect before gradually adding constraints. This prevents premature optimization and encourages exploration of unconventional approaches. Fourth, build flexibility into your plans. The world consists of complex adaptive systems that create a dynamic and often unpredictable environment. Small changes in inputs can produce unexpectedly large outputs. An effects-based approach should anticipate change and remain adaptable as conditions evolve. Creativity isn't just an innate talent—it's a systematic process of connecting things in nontraditional ways. By breaking down problems into their essential elements and focusing on desired outcomes rather than available tools, you can develop innovative solutions that provide exponential advantages. Whether on the battlefield, in the boardroom, or in your personal life, this approach to creative problem-solving can help you overcome seemingly insurmountable challenges.

Chapter 6: Mental Toughness: Managing Emotions Under Pressure

As I sat in the intelligence brief, an Army officer gave me an update on a high-risk operation that special forces teams were conducting against ISIS in eastern Afghanistan. The plan was for ground forces to clear towns from north to south, pushing ISIS fighters into desolate mountains where air support could target them. Our F-16s would provide around-the-clock firepower for the teams on the ground. Midway through the brief, we were interrupted—the ground team had been ambushed while entering a new village. My wingman and I quickly geared up and took off. Flying in full afterburner, we made our way east. As soon as we were within communication range, we heard the controller's tense voice: "We're taking fire, extremely accurate fire!" Over the next few minutes, my wingman and I dropped several five-hundred-pound bombs, stopping the brunt of the ISIS fighters' attack. Then I heard over the radio that one of the soldiers had been hit. "It's bad... It's not looking good for him," said the controller. I felt a knot form in my stomach—the second-worst fate for a fighter pilot, behind fratricide, is losing a soldier you're providing overwatch for. As the fight continued, the troops became pinned down by accurate gunfire from a fortified compound. I was now the only aircraft on station and down to my last weapon—a massive two-thousand-pound bomb designed to destroy caves. The compound needed to be destroyed, but dropping this bomb would put the troops well within its lethal blast radius—nearly three times closer than the recommended range. In training, we had never even simulated dropping a bomb this close to friendly troops—it was automatically assumed it would cause fratricide. If any troops were injured or killed, I could be court-martialed. However, I estimated that if I did nothing, there was at least a 50% chance of them taking additional casualties, with a growing risk that ISIS reinforcements would overrun them. After calculating the expected value of each option, I told the controller I could destroy the compound but that it posed significant risk—the troops would need to be behind substantial cover when the bomb went off. They agreed that the risk was worth it. I dropped the bomb, and as the smoke cleared, I heard the controller say, "Good hit, good hit! We're all good!" The compound had been completely destroyed, allowing the troops to eventually make it back to their forward operating base. This experience highlights how emotions significantly affect our decision-making ability. We have a saying in the fighter pilot community that you lose twenty IQ points as soon as you put on your helmet. When our brain's amygdala senses danger, it activates stress hormones that prepare our bodies for action. However, this increase in physical readiness comes at a cost—our prefrontal cortex, responsible for high-order cognitive abilities, begins to shut down. Working memory decreases, and our attention shifts from a thoughtful approach based on prioritization to fixating on the most stimulating sensation. To counter these effects, fighter pilots undergo mental-toughness training that helps them manage emotions under pressure. This training consists of several key components that anyone can apply: First, recognize that you don't rise to the level of your expectations but fall to the level of your preparation. Mental toughness isn't just understanding concepts—it must be practiced until it becomes a subconscious reflex. When stress rises, it's easy to become consumed by emotions and lose the ability to think logically. Only by practicing a skill thousands of times can you rely on it when it matters most. Second, implement focus-based training. Our brains waste enormous energy thinking about past events we can't change or worrying about future scenarios we can't control. The key is to focus only on what you have control over—the next decision to make. When mistakes happen, acknowledge them but quickly refocus on the current situation. This skill can be developed through meditation-like exercises that gradually increase in complexity. Third, learn to calm your body and mind through breathing techniques. Breathing is one of the few processes under both conscious and unconscious control. By consciously slowing and deepening your breathing through your nose, you activate the parasympathetic nervous system, returning your body to a more relaxed state and shifting decision-making back to the neocortex. Fourth, systematically build confidence through positive self-talk. Many high performers are perfectionists who put unnecessary pressure on themselves. This compounds the effects of stress and often causes them to fail at tasks they already know how to perform. By identifying undermining thoughts and replacing them with counterexamples from past successes, you can build resilience that carries through high-pressure situations. By implementing these mental-toughness techniques, you can significantly improve your ability to make clear decisions under pressure. Whether you're facing life-or-death situations or simply managing everyday stress, these tools will help you maintain peak mental performance when it matters most.

Chapter 7: Decisive Action: Prioritize and Execute

On November 12, 2016, a man named Ahmad Nayeb intentionally missed the early-morning bus out of Bagram Air Base, Afghanistan. Instead, he began walking toward the base's headquarters, where hundreds of people had gathered for a Veterans Day five-kilometer run. Ahmad, a self-admitted former Taliban member who had been hired as a civilian contractor, had spent months building a suicide vest by smuggling small amounts of explosives onto the base each day. As Ahmad pushed through the crowd, a young Army specialist noticed him and tried to stop him. When the soldier grabbed Ahmad's shoulder, he felt the explosive vest and, before he could warn others, Ahmad detonated it, sending hundreds of nuts and bolts ripping through the crowd. I had flown a mission the night before and was asleep in my barracks when I heard the blast. Hours later, with the base at its highest alert posture, I was told I would be leading two F-16s that evening for one of the first launches since the attack. My wingman and I put on our flight gear along with bulletproof vests and helmets, then walked through the eerily empty base toward our aircraft. As I climbed into my F-16 and started the engine, I caught something large moving out of the corner of my eye—a fuel truck speeding toward me. Unlike the standard olive-green trucks used throughout the base, this one was faded yellow, covered in dirt, and had foreign lettering across its side. It was traveling faster than normal as it weaved around barricades toward us. A vehicle-borne improvised explosive device was the single biggest threat to U.S. forces in Afghanistan. Just two days prior, terrorists had rammed the German consulate with a truck filled with explosives, causing over 120 casualties. Our squadron's twelve F-16s represented the entire fighter force in Afghanistan, and we had been briefed multiple times that we were a strategic target. As the truck barreled toward me, I had to make a decision. A fully loaded fuel truck carries nearly forty thousand pounds of fuel—which, if detonated, would make it one of the largest conventional bombs in the world. I was sitting on a fully fueled jet carrying bombs and missiles, which in turn was parked next to several other F-16s. If this was a suicide bomber, none of us would survive. Conversely, if it wasn't, we still needed to carry out our mission. I keyed the radio to our operations center and said, "There's an unidentified suspicious truck moving rapidly toward the F-16 ramp. We need it secured now." The truck stopped several dozen feet from my jet. As it sat in the shadow of the security lights, I continued the engine start sequence as quickly as possible. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw maintainers sprint toward the truck with their rifles, climb up on it, rip open the door, and drag out the driver. By this point, my F-16 was ready to taxi. I pushed the throttle up, moved clear of the area, and took off on the mission. Later, we learned that no explosives were found on the truck, though the driver wasn't authorized to be in the area. This experience illustrates the importance of prioritization and decisive action. When faced with multiple tasks and limited time, we must determine what's most important and act accordingly. One of the most effective frameworks for this comes from President Dwight D. Eisenhower, who led the D-day invasion during World War II—the largest amphibious assault in history. Eisenhower's approach can be visualized as a graph with importance on the vertical axis and urgency on the horizontal axis, forming four quadrants. In the upper-right quadrant are tasks that are both urgent and important—critical actions that need immediate attention. For fighter pilots, these are "near rocks"—imminent threats that could potentially kill us. In the upper-left quadrant are important but not urgent tasks—essential to complete but without immediate deadlines. These "far rocks" require planning and scheduling to prevent them from becoming urgent crises later. This is where most of our effort should be focused to prevent firefighting mode. The lower-right quadrant contains urgent but not important tasks—interruptions, unnecessary meetings, and other distractions that feel pressing but don't contribute significantly to our goals. Eisenhower's solution was to delegate these when possible. Today, technology can help automate many of these tasks, freeing up mental bandwidth for more important decisions. The lower-left quadrant consists of distractions that are neither important nor urgent—time-wasting activities that should be eliminated entirely. The principle here is that the fastest process is no process at all. To effectively prioritize, we must first understand what we're working toward. Without clear objectives, our minds default toward urgent tasks regardless of importance. By staying disciplined and ruthlessly cutting tasks that don't matter, we can maximize our impact and consistently make better decisions. When it comes to execution, decisiveness is key. People often struggle with taking action as stakes rise, overthinking problems and trying to make perfect decisions. The solution is to recognize that uncertainty is inevitable and to embrace it rather than being paralyzed by it. Once you've eliminated clearly suboptimal options and narrowed down to a few good choices, select one and move forward. Your energy and time are better spent remaining flexible for the adjustments you'll inevitably need to make as conditions change.

Summary

The essence of clear thinking is developing a systematic approach to decision-making that works under pressure and uncertainty. The ACE Helix—Assess, Choose, Execute—provides a framework that fighter pilots use to make life-or-death decisions in split seconds, and it can transform how you approach challenges in your own life. Start by improving your assessment skills through deliberate practice. Train yourself to pause before acting, gather relevant information through a methodical cross-check, and identify power laws that govern the systems you're dealing with. When choosing options, leverage your experience by building a robust mental framework of interconnected concepts, use fast-forecasting to approximate expected values, and apply creative problem-solving by focusing on desired outcomes rather than available tools. Finally, execute with confidence by developing mental toughness to manage emotions under pressure, prioritizing tasks based on importance rather than just urgency, and embracing decisive action even in the face of uncertainty. Remember that in decision-making, as in flight, the goal isn't perfection but continuous improvement—each decision is an opportunity to learn and refine your approach for the next challenge.

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Hasard Lee

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