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ON FURTHER REFLECTION
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Spencer A. McWilliams
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California State University San Marcos,
San Marcos, CA,
USA |
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Abstract
This article discusses some challenges I
face in applying constructive alternativism reflexively as a practical
approach
to daily life, particularly challenges that arise in relation to the
construction
of “self.” Obstacles that may prevent embracing alternatives include
the
tendency to slip into accumulative fragmentalism and the belief that we
cannot
entertain an alternative interpretation until we have disproved a
current one. Overcoming
these obstacles might benefit from Zen meditation techniques designed
to
enhance awareness of thoughts and bodily sensations, and the use of
invitational forms of English, which help us assume responsibility for
our interpretations.
Keywords: Constructive
Alternativism, Self, Zen
Meditation, Awareness
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Intrigued by the radical, practical, and
reflexive spirit of Personal Construct Psychology as a psychology that
we can
apply to ourselves, I explore in this article some of the issues that I
face in
applying the philosophy of constructive alternativism, Kelly’s
proposition that "We assume that all
of
our present interpretations of the universe are
subject to revision or replacement" (1955, p. 15, emphasis in
original) to
my daily life. I find myself perhaps taking personal relevance and
reflexivity
in a direction that approaches to a more personal confessional and less
of a
more conventional academic article, but this does not mean, of course,
that I will
not refer to intelligent things that others have said, cite previous
literature,
and use formal vocabulary and phrasing. It does mean that the further I
take my
explorations of the personal application of constructive alternativism
to my
personal life, and the more honest that process asks that I become with
myself,
even if I respond only in a tentative and halting fashion, the more my
narrative ends up taking a personal and confessional tone.
Reflecting on the issues I want to
discuss
led me to consider some realizations about what got me interested in
psychology
and personal construct psychology in the first place. Over time I have
said,
with tongue only slightly in cheek, that I chose to study clinical
psychology
not because I had a noble desire to help others but because I wanted to
see
what I could do to straighten out all of those screwy people who kept
getting
in my way and annoying me. I really wanted to make life more convenient
and
pleasant for me, and if that ended up making it better for others well
so much
the better. I guess this might be what Freud meant by sublimation.
When I first encountered Personal
Construct
Psychology, I found myself immediately intrigued and captivated by the
notion
that I didn’t have to regard the current, time-honored,
interpretations,
explanations, and beliefs that I had heard all of my life as the final
answer. The
notion that we can revise and replace our ideas, and consider
alternatives,
seemed very liberating to me. But curiously, when more recently I
looked
closely at my attraction to constructive alternativism I realized that
I did not
only like its liberating benefits. Like my original motivation for
psychology
it also suited my personal comfort and convenience. When I didn’t have
to take
the beliefs that I had been taught all my life as final truths I felt
greater
confidence in my own beliefs, which often deviated from the
conventional. So
far this sounds quite liberal-minded and noble. But I have come to
realize that
I have not necessarily applied this awareness, this acceptance, to my
own beliefs
and ideas. To the contrary, I have come to see my tendency to use
constructive
alternativism as a justification for holding more strongly to my
beliefs, as an
alternative to the beliefs of others, rather than opening myself to the
possibility that I could and should actively consider the benefit of
revising
or replacing my ideas themselves.
I have been writing about these issues
for
some time now: how we need to hold our ideas tentatively, not make
institutions
or idols out of them, speak in ways that require that we take personal
responsibility for our beliefs, and use techniques to gain greater
awareness of
our personally constructed interpretations (McWilliams, 1988a; 1988b;
1993;
1996; 2000; 2003, in press). To treat myself fairly, I have also
confessed
along the way that I continue to experience great challenges in
actually
putting these concepts into practice. Within the context of both
components of
this trend, I humbly share with you some aspects of the current status
of this personal
project.
I would like to focus somewhat more
specifically on some of the obstacles or challenges that I face in
applying
constructive alternativism, and constructivist and constructionist
perspectives
in general, as an approach to daily living and some of the practices
that I
have undertaken to address these challenges. I begin by facing the fact
that
although I like to portray myself as someone who believes that humans
invent or
construct knowledge, rather than seeing knowledge as an inherent truth
that
corresponds directly to events independently of human ideas, and that
we should
hold our beliefs and interpretations tentatively and revise them
willingly, in
actuality I greatly enjoy affirming the correctness of my own ideas and
beliefs. I like to "be right." I don’t want to experience the threat
that would follow possible comprehensive revision of my core beliefs. I
don’t
want to acknowledge the anger that arises when events don’t go the way
I
believe that they should, or the unkind criticisms that I bestow on
those who
believe or act different from how I think they should. I don’t want to
acknowledge the laziness and sloppiness that often lead me to hold on
to and
defend my beliefs rather than go to the trouble of seeing things in a
new way,
particularly someone else’s way.
SELF AND CONSTRUCTIVE
ALTERNATIVISM
I have come to see a good deal of the
problem as related to the picture that I have of myself, the stories
that I
tell to myself and others, and the relationship of that self portrayal
to the
account I give of my view of events. I increasingly believe that our
sense of
self plays a major role in our ability to revise and replace our
understanding
(McWilliams, 2000; under editorial review). Kelly wrote about core
constructs
and core role structure, the way that we create a sense of "self"
that will enable us to maintain our survival and our interactions with
others. Further
helping me to articulate these issues more clearly, the social
constructionists
emphasize the narrative accounts that we make of our selves, learned
through
social discourse with others, and how we use them to explain, justify,
and
account for our behavior. It strikes me that the accounts that we make
to
explain and justify our actions, the emphasis that society places on
these
accounts, and our identification with them, may contribute to the
challenge
that we face in revising interpretations of events. To the extent that
I rely
on my self account for my survival and my social relationships, I will
feel
reluctant to revise it and reluctant to entertain alternative
interpretations
of events. Particularly, to the extent that my self-narrative includes
a
description of myself as intelligent and possessing "correct"
knowledge and information, I may tend to hold on to my beliefs when I
might
better consider alternatives.
Shotter’s (1993) social constructionist
perspective emphasizes how these narrative accounts arise and evolve
through
conversation and social interaction. Gergen (1994) provides some
assistance
with this difficulty by emphasizing that we may create multiple
accounts, and
thus multiple "selves" that we use in different settings. Once we
have created these socially-related narratives, however, it seems to me
that we
also incorporate them into our private view of the world and our self
and that
we learn to strengthen, reinforce, and reaffirm them in our private
dialogues. I
can easily see that the narrative accounts that I present publicly to
others can
differ from my private accounts. For example, Goffman’s (1959) famous
study of
the presentation of self, using a dramaturgical metaphor, eloquently
described social
interaction as a performance constructed to serve a "frontstage"
purpose, but which differs from a perhaps more private or sincere
"backstage"
understanding. Additionally, I can see how the multiple "selves" of our
private accounts might vary according to our sense of safety and
security in
the world and our ability to survive effectively and relate to others.
For
example, Angyal’s (1965) theory of universal ambiguity suggests that
each of us
operates from the viewpoint of two competing but fully organized
narrative
structures that assume a figure-ground relationship to each other, one
representing
a "healthy" perspective and another a "neurotic" account, with
both bearing on how we must function to gain mastery over the
environment and
connection with others. These examples demonstrate how our investment
in our
created narrative structure of self may tend to commit us to certain
ways of
interpreting events that may also interfere with our ability to
consider
alternative interpretations.
THE SPECTER
OF ACCUMULATIVE FRAGMENTALISM
How do we deal with our tendency to hold
on
to our current beliefs, to view them as "truth," even if we "know
better?" Perhaps we can begin by recognizing the existence of this
tendency
as an inherent aspect of construing. Kelly (1979) elaborated on his
philosophy
of constructive alternativism, describing several intriguing concepts,
and consideration
of them might serve as guides to strengthening that awareness. I would
particularly
like to emphasize accumulative fragmentalism and its companion, the
belief that
we must disprove an existing interpretation before we can entertain an
alternative.
Kelly defined construing as an
inherently
dualistic or bi-polar activity, suggesting that we cannot fully
understand a
construct dimension without articulating both of its poles. A complete
understanding of constructive alternativism thus requires understanding
its
contrast pole, "accumulative fragmentalism," a perhaps more familiar
and conventional, but non-constructivist view that our understanding of
the
world consists of fragments of final truth, that someday we will have
accumulated
all of the pieces, like in a jigsaw puzzle, at which point we will
understand
everything (Kelly, 1979). We can find great comfort in this perspective
because
it means that we will never have to discard or replace anything that we
already
believe that we know. Even though I identify with constructive
alternativism,
the basic dualism of human existence tends to find me seeking comfort
in
accumulative fragmentalism from time to time, in spite of my best
efforts.
As a side effect of the tendency toward
accumulative fragmentalism, if an idea seems to work well we tend to
think of
it as true and we thus believe that we have to disprove it as false
before we
can entertain an alternative perspective. Kelly wrote that people
"waste a
lot of time trying to disprove what others have claimed in order to
make room
for their own alternative explanations" (1979, p. 159). An example of
what
happens when we believe that interpretations can reflect truth or
reality
occurs when scientists believe that if one theory accounts for certain
observations more effectively than another we must therefore regard it
as true
and it must displace the other theory. As Gergen (1994) suggested, when
scientists
view a more "accurate" theory as correct and any alternatives as
incorrect the process of science operates as a zero sum game in which
the
utility of one theory automatically requires discarding all others.
We might consider this problem as
similar
to the issue that got Galileo in hot water with the Catholic Church so
many
years ago. The conventional view of the church authorities’ displeasure
with
Copernicus’ and Galileo’s heliocentric view of the solar system
suggests that
they didn’t like the way it casts Earth, and hence humanity, away from
the
center of everything. Barfield (1988) and Rowland (2001) propose an
alternative
construction. In their view, the church officials objected not so much
to the
content of Galileo’s cosmology but to the underlying epistemology. As
Barfield
(1988) put it, "It was not simply a new theory of the nature of the
celestial movements that was feared but a new theory of the nature of
theory;
namely, that, if a hypothesis saves all of the appearances it is
identical with
truth" (pp. 50-51). Rowland articulated the objection to the
"arrogance"
of the notion that a theory that accounts for the appearances must
therefore present
a final and objective answer. "It is simply not correct to assert, as
Galileo did, that there is a single and unique explanation to natural
phenomena, which may be understood through observation and reasons, and
which
makes all other explanations wrong" (Rowland, 2001, p. 137).
Instead, we can view even an empirically
supported theory as one example of a human-invented attempt to account
for
events that must remain open to further consideration. If we switch
back to the
other pole and embrace constructive alternativism, we can join the
social
constructionists in feeling free to consider a multiplicity of ways to
construe
the world without abandoning or rejecting the comfortable ways that we
currently look at things. Since events hold no loyalty to how we speak
of them
or how we interpret them, we can entertain new propositions just to see
what
happens. We don’t have to worry about whether our beliefs or our
accounts of
our observations reflect a reality that exists independently of our
experience.
How does our constructivist position
view the
relationship between our beliefs and reality? We might not find it
necessary to
fully understand or agree with Kelly’s assumptions about "reality" in
order to entertain his ideas about how we use our constructs, but such
a
discussion might make the process more complete. Kelly (1955, 1979)
believed in
the existence of the universe and the gradual human understanding of
it. He
also, however, proposed that even though human beliefs might eventually
correspond to reality such an event would not occur until an infinitely
far off
point in the future. Thus, we can protect ourselves from the arrogance
of
thinking that our current local views represent the final answer, just
as we
can avoid the similarly arrogant perspective of those who believe that
the
world will end tomorrow, as though we, of all the people who have lived on
the planet,
have been chosen to see how it all comes out.
Other constructivists and
constructionists naturally
represent a variety of views on this topic of the relationship between
our beliefs
and reality, and the more clever ones have managed to avoid the entire
issue by
postulating either that an independent reality does not exist or that
even if
it does we can never know it directly (Chiari & Nuzzo, 2003).
Regardless of
which position we might choose to identify with on this topic, I
suggest that we
can proceed with our experimental consideration of these issues even if
we
don’t necessarily agree on this ultimate philosophical issue. All that
we need
to do for the time being is agree to entertain the propositions that
all of our
ideas and knowledge stem not from "revelation" by events themselves
but from human invention, that no one so far has a complete, final,
truthful "God’s-eye"
account of events, and that we can freely entertain a variety of ways
of
looking at events without having to deal with the question of their
rightness,
completeness, or finality (we may, however, want to give some thought
to
whether we see them as useful or fruitful).
APPLIED
CONSTRUCTIVE ALTERNATIVISM
Assuming that we agree to consider this
possibility, or at least that we are willing to go along with the
proposal just
to see what happens, we then face the question of what methods or
techniques we
might use to help us apply it to our daily lives. For many years I have
found
that Buddhist meditation practices, particularly those of the Ordinary
Mind
School of Zen (Beck, 1994; Bayda, 2002), have a great deal to
contribute this
process, and I have described my view of the relationship between
Ordinary Mind
Zen and Personal Construct Psychology (McWilliams, 2000; 2003).
Although the
general public tends to see meditation practice as emphasizing special
experiences and transcendent issues such as "enlightenment," most
Buddhist
approaches emphasize awareness of the present moment as the key element
of
practice. Awareness of the present moment may sound simple,
straightforward,
and wonderful. However, our deeply held commitment to our beliefs and
the way
that we think about things tends to get in the way as we devote too
much of our
energy to maintaining, defending, and explaining our present way of
looking at
things, leaving too little left to pay attention to present moment
events or
life "as it is."
I would like to focus on two fundamental
elements of Ordinary Mind Zen practice that bear particularly on this
topic:
awareness of thoughts and awareness of physical or bodily sensations.
In fact,
these two elements not only have importance for this topic; the
Ordinary Mind
view proposes that they represent the totality of human experience—that
if we
carefully observe our actual immediate experience we can only identify
bodily
sensations and thoughts and that all phenomena represent one or the
other or a combination
of the two (e.g., emotions). Zen perspectives do not hold exclusive
rights to
the proposal that experience occurs only as these two elements. For
example, Rom
Harré (Burr, 1995) suggested that human beings consist only of
physiology and
linguistic practice. Within the context of this general concept, the
discipline
of labeling thoughts and directly experiencing bodily sensations
constitutes the
central component of Ordinary Mind Zen practice (McWilliams, 2000). Let
me describe
what happens when I attempt to focus my awareness on these two elements.
Awareness of Thoughts
As I gain greater awareness of my
thoughts,
slowly and fitfully over many years of sitting practice, I have
gradually come
to see that beliefs and ideas that once seemed very important to me no
longer
carry such significance. I also notice that I don’t have so many
strongly held
opinions about things, although others may suggest that I have just
lost my
memory and no longer know anything (and they might have a point). My
Zen
teacher, however, assures me that this occurs commonly with experienced
meditation
practitioners. From another perspective, I find that by sitting hour
after hour
watching the same kinds of thoughts cross my mind I eventually become
rather
bored with them. Ultimately, I find that with persistent practice,
thoughts
that once had a great deal of power over my life and the way that I
responded
to events have slowly come to have less power, increasing however so
slightly
the possibility that I might now consider new, fresh interpretations of
events.
Let me return to the Ordinary Mind
teachings
and some specific awareness techniques. Bayda (2002) proposes that
thought
labeling breaks our tendency to identify with our thoughts and enables
us to
develop an appreciation for the content of thoughts, helping us see our
most
stubbornly held thoughts as just thoughts rather than truth or reality.
Hamilton (in press)
describes an approach to examining how thoughts distort perceptions
that she
refers to as "Tangled Thinking." Unclear thinking serves to maintain
the
self-centered identity through which we avoid revising our
understanding. She
describes several categories of thought processes: The tendency to view
opinions as truth (e.g., "Abortion is murder," "Beethoven is the
greatest musical genius"); confusing feelings and emotional reactions
with
facts (e.g., "I am afraid of motorcycles so motorcycles are
dangerous");
criticizing, belittling, and rejecting others who differ from us (e.g.,
"conservatives/liberals—take
your pick—are idiots"); over generalizing from limited information
(e.g.,
ethnic stereotypes, constellatory construing); taking an extreme view
at one
pole of a construct dimension (e.g., "black or white thinking," or
"slot-rattling"
from one pole to the other); and assuming a double standard in which we
provide
a socially acceptable account of our own behavior while labeling others
negatively for the same behavior (e.g., "I am relaxed and "laid back;"
you are just lazy"). To assist with gaining awareness of such thoughts
and
weakening their tendencies, Hamilton
describes a thought labeling exercise consisting of repeating a
thought verbatim, preceded by the word "thinking," as if mimicked by
a parrot on your shoulder. Since our thoughts arise from the powerful
conditioning of core constructs and beliefs, reinforced through social
discourse, we tend to believe strongly in them. Over time, this thought
labeling practice allows us to observe and witness thoughts, which we
come to
see as "only thoughts" and having no independent reality other than
as a thought, similar to the social constructionist view that words do
not
represent reality but only other words.
Using
Invitational Language
In each of the examples of tangled
thinking
described above I articulated the thought using the language of "to be"
verbs, a common aspect of the English language that leads us to project
qualities of our own construction onto an event (McWilliams, 1996).
Kelly (1979)
discussed this problem in terms of what he called the "indicative mood"
of English and proposed an "invitational" mood as a way of speaking
that proposes regarding an event in a particular manner without
attributing the
speaker’s construing to the event. Social constructionists (Burr, 1995;
Gergen,
1994; Shotter, 1993) emphasize the extent to which knowledge derives
from joint
verbal interactions with others according to the discourse customs of
particular verbal
communities and how we mistakenly come to believe that words refer
directly to
things. A technique from General Semantics called E-prime (Bourland
&
Johnson, 1991), which excludes "to be" words from English, attempts
to force the speaker to communicate direct personal experience rather
than
project attributes or qualities onto events (McWilliams, 1996, 2003).
These
perspectives agree on our tendency to use language, initially developed
as a
way to communicate with each other about our experience, in a manner
that comes
to see the words as possessing a direct connection to an independent
reality. In
addition to labeling thoughts, practices that require that we take
responsibility
for the qualities that we attribute to events can also assist us in
gaining
awareness of the constructed nature of our knowledge.
Bodily Awareness
Repeated practice of thought labeling
weakens their compelling importance and taking responsibility for
language also
reduces attachment to cherished thoughts. By following these practices
over a
period of time I occasionally get to experience quiet moments in which
thoughts
die down. Then what happens? Several constructivists (e.g., Leitner,
1985; Leitner
& Thomas, 2003; Mills, 2003) have described the close relationship
between
core constructs and physiological functioning and deeper levels of
experience,
and these perspectives accord well with the insights gained from
Ordinary Mind
Zen practice. Openness to experience of the present moment requires
gaining
direct awareness of immediate bodily experience, along with
understanding how construing
evolves in close relationship with our bodies and how our bodily
mechanisms
become deeply interconnected with our meaning system (McWilliams,
2003).
Much as if I had finally fixed a loud
and
leaky car muffler and as a result of the relative quiet I now heard
rattles and
squeaks in the car that I had not heard before, sometimes when thoughts
die
down, I find myself aware of bodily sensations that I had not felt
before. At
first they seemed alien or temporary but I have come to see their long
and
chronic history, masked by the "noise" of the incessant chatter of
thoughts. The physical sensations that I notice the most, aside from
ordinary
aches and pains, seem related to places that I have created tension. I
find
them most noticeable in the solar plexus, shoulders, and jaw areas.
Perhaps they
originated in the preverbal period. As I see their relation to
thoughts, they seem
clearly connected to core constructs and my self protective "armor,"
arising since childhood as I tense my stomach, hunch
up my shoulders, and clench my jaw, bracing for life’s
difficulties while "spacing out" into thoughts. Through bringing
awareness to these sensations, not trying to change them but to do my
best to
experience them, relaxing into the sensations without thought, they
undergo
their own transformation and change. Just as the thoughts ultimately
appear as "just
thoughts" I come to experience the physical sensations as "just
sensations." More importantly, this awareness leads to greater
attention
to the immediate present experience.
FURTHER REFLECTION
Ultimately, it seems to me, the
actualization of applied constructive alternativism and the
experiential
manifestation of direct experience of the present moment arrive at the
same place.
Although I still have a way to go before I can speak with full
confidence from
my own experience, the ability to experience the present moment,
noticing
thoughts without attachment, experiencing physical sensations that
arise and
fall, could, I believe, include the falling away of attachment to core
constructs, the narrative view of self, core beliefs, or ego. It could
enable an
active, moment-by-moment ability to construe events in a fresh, new
manner,
revising and replacing interpretations which themselves would fall away
leaving
openness to the next moment. This proposition, too, of course, requires
further
practice and further reflection. |
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REFERENCES
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Burr, V. (1995). An introduction to social
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Chiari, D. & Nuzzo, M. L. (2003).
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Gergen, K. J. (1994). Realities and
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Goffman, E. (1959). The presentation of
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Hamilton, E. (in press). Zenquiry: A
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Kelly, G. A. (1955). The psychology of
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Leitner, L. M. (1985). The terrors of
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McWilliams, S. A. (1988a). Construing
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McWilliams, S. A. (1988b). On becoming a
personal anarchist. In F. Fransella & L. Thomas (Eds.) Experimenting with
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McWilliams, S. A. (1993). Construct no
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McWilliams, S. A. (1996). Accepting the
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McWilliams, S. A. (2000). Core
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McWilliams, S. A. (2003). Belief,
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McWilliams, S. A. (in press).
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Mills, D. M. (2003). Body, mind, and
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the social world (pp. 87-91). Milan:
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Rowland, W. (2001). Galileo’s mistake: A
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Shotter, J. (1993). Conversational
realities: Constructing life through language. Thousand Oaks:
Sage. |
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ABOUT
THE AUTHOR
Spencer
A. McWilliams, Ph.D. has held
faculty and administrative appointments at six American universities
and
colleges from 1971 to the present. He has sustained an active interest
in PCP
for thirty years and has studied and practiced Zen meditation for
twenty years.
He currently (effective fall 2004) serves as Professor of Psychology
and Human
Development at California State University San Marcos, San Marcos, CA
92096,
USA. E-mail: smcwilli@csusm.edu.
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REFERENCE
McWilliams, S. A.
(2004). On further reflection Personal
Construct Theory & Practice,
1, 1-7
(Retrieved from http://www.pcp-net.org/journal/pctp04/mcwilliams04.html)
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Received: 4 Dec 2003 - Accepted: 30 Dec 2003 -
Published: 31 Jan 2004 |
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