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I've never known, for sure, whether it was the poppies.

But every summer that I worked on the farm there would be two weeks where my every waking moment would be awash in the horrible clear and stretchy like silly-putty phlegm of allergies. It was always the same two weeks that the poppies were blooming.

refers to


Ken Wiwa appears to have found the connection between weblogs and 1984 ←  → Overheard, game seven :