In honor of Saint Patrick's Day, all the food models for March have been green. In order of their appearance:
The Funko Pop Godzilla is a huge, bulky guy. Like most of the Pop figures, he isn't very articulated. In fact, no part of him is movable at all. I was lucky to be able to balance a potato chip on his arm in one review. But, he looks adorable, and is scaled up from most of the Pop characters.
Playability: 2/10. Displayability: 8/10.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Next, the Kidrobot Morbo is a fun guy. I loved the series of Kidrobot Futurama blind boxes, and spent way too much trying to get all my favorite characters. (I ended up with three Frys, for example.) Morbo can turn his head, and rotate his arms. It's not a lot of articulation, but even those few points give him some personality. He even comes with a little accessory of Dr. Flimflam's Vein Cream.
Playability: 5/10. Displayability: 7/10.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
On to our loscannic friends. Naveen is just an accessory, really. He comes alongside the Funko Pop Tiana figure. He can't move or pose at all, really, just sit there. He's scaled just right to sit beside Tiana (and her costars Louis and Dr. Facilier). Still, I think the Funko Pop style works well for this tiny frog.
Playability: 2/10. Displayability: 6/10.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Finally, Kermit and Robin. I loved the old Palisades Muppet collection (speaking of toylines I spent far too much on), and was excited to see the new Diamond Select versions in person. They're ... different. I liked the option of the bases for the Palisades figures, which made the characters much more poseable. On the other hand, Diamond has made Kermit extremely articulated. By my count, he has 18 joints! (Robin has 5.) Unfortunately, he doesn't stand very well, so I had to lean him against things for all his photos. Even more unfortunately, his eyes aren't right. It's hard for toymakers to mass-produce Kermit and get the thickness of his pupil-slits correct. (That's also my main complaint about the current Pez design.)
Robin, however, is great. The Diamond Robin looks great, and he can pose well. (The old Palisades Robin was fine, but he could only sit.) But perhaps most importantly, you can get Kermit and Robin (and Bean, who will be showing up in this space next month, and a stool and a banjo -- the more expensive comic-shop version also has a log, a ukelele, and another chair) for like $23. The cheapest Palisades basic Kermit on eBay right this second is $25.00.
Playability: 8/10. Displayability: 6/10.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Tomorrow is April 1, but I promise there's no trick; just a salty food review. Oh, and another new food-modeling friend. See you then.
Hey, there are special Peeps out for Valentine's Day! I mean, of COURSE there are!
I could only find one of the two flavors near me (sadly, it seems like the lesser of the two), but I love a good cherry cordial or eight, so I was excited to try these. They smell just like a chocolate-covered cherry. They taste almost exactly like a chocolate covered cherry. The mouthfeel, well, that's more marshmallow and less gooey-sticky-goodness.
The cherry is pretty good, a little tart. That plus the dark chocolate dip keep the vanilla marshmallow from overpowering it. Like the best dipped Peeps, this feels like an adult candy. And I know that's a ridiculous sentence, but at this point I'm commited to typing up serious reviews of Peeps, so I think I should have some leeway. And at only 50 calories apiece, these chicks are the best bang for my sugar buck this month. Today is the big day, so these might not be easy to find (I couldn't get 'em on Amazon, so here's a buylink I cannot vouch for -- good luck!).
Whatever you do today, talk to someone you love. Tell them you love them. And eat some candy -- life is short, and getting shorter by the minute. Happy Valentine's Day!
Edited to add this late-breaking Valentine's video from the happy couple:
Hey, it's almost Valentine's Day, and I haven't talked about food in weeks! So our February food models are bringing you three delicious candies to consider for your sweetie.
Sidebar: Janice and Floyd are a great couple, almost the model rock couple. Sure, they've had their ups and downs, but they always come together to sing incloseharmony. They're still working together after all these decades, and that makes them better than Bob and Joan, or Mick and Marianne. So I say they're ideal presenters for our Valentine's treats.
Our first sugar-delivery system is the Russell Stover Strawberry Cream Heart. It looked a lot better before I touched it, I swear! There's a thin shell of chocolate on the squidgy strawberry flavored cream filling, and I clumsily broke it. Never mind though, it's still delicious.
When I opened the package, I got huge amounts of chocolate smell. And though it's mostly strawberry by volume, the flavors are almost half-and-half. It's a perfect, shapely rendition of one of my favorite assorted chocolates.
This li'l heart has 120 calories, and I was surprised to find it has some real strawberries in the mix. These also come in caramel and cherry and oh so many other flavors, so feel free to select the one you want. (Your buy links are double the choice this time -- 1 for $1.50 plus shipping, or 18 shipped free for $35. Or, you know, patronize any local shop; they're pretty readily available this week.)
The third episode of The Jim Henson Hour is better than the second one, that's for sure. Leon has a great idea for an act, though the show's already full. He brings on a singer, and her high note shatters a lot of the monitors.
After the opening titles, Jim appears, but his lion has gone missing. Instead, he's playing against the Storyteller's Dog today. He promos the Storyteller episode, and then throws it back to Kermit.
Kermit is just inundated with acts this week. Gonzo wants to bring on his all-chicken, all-rollerskating Sound of Music, but there's already an opening number cued up, and it's The Nylons, singing "The Lion Sleeps Tonight," with the lion Jim was missing just a minute ago.
"Who on earth are The Nylons?," I hear you ask (unless you're an afficionado of Canadian a capella music, that is). They were founded by four underemployed actors in 1978 Toronto, and are still around today. (Of the four founders, only one is still with the group, but they're planning the 2016 tour now. If you're in Canada and like a capella music, now is your time!) "The Lion Sleeps Tonight" was kind of their big hit, and they had even showed up to sing it on Sharon, Lois, and Bram's Elephant Show a few years earlier.
The Muppet monsters are hosting a telethon, cold-calling potential contributors and extorting money. Digit switches away to The Time Channel, which is a great, simple sketch which would play just as easily on Sesame Street or Laugh-In, with a few appropriate modifications. (I'd recommend taking out the inexplicable joke at Ottawa's expense.) Then the monsters break in and threaten the Timecaster.
Fozzie pops up to tease his new career as a weatherman, but first it's time for a soap opera. And of course the monsters break in there, too. But that's the last we see of the monsters. Remember when I said the show was fully booked? That's true of the actual show, too. There are too many arcs and not enough time. It may be a result of the reduced episode order (Jim wanted to make four episodes every month, and a full season of shows, but NBC only ordered 12) and a surfeit of comedic ideas. The monster telethon is a funny idea, and the monsters are shown to be capable of breaking into all the programming, but they give up after the soap opera. I guess the writers also wanted to tell the second main story, which we'll get to after Fozzie visits The Today Show.
Fozzie is in New York, and it's a classic Fozzie moment. He doesn't realize that a lot of TV weathermen are clowns and comedians at heart, so he's going to be serious and has thrown out his Groucho glasses, whoopie cushion and banana peels. He visits Willard Scott to learn the ropes, and with Fozzie's help, Willard is quickly trapped in a dark closet full of fruitcake. Fozzie has to sub for him and, after an apolitical mention of Good Morning America, he attempts to make sense of the weathermap. Of course, Fozzie being Fozzie, he can't resist a terrible (and slightly sweary) pun. Then, Willard's escaped, and he returns Fozzie's props.
Frank Oz barely appeared on The Jim Henson Hour (during the time these shows were being taped, he was in postproduction for Dirty Rotten Scoundrels), and it's just a shame we can't see Kermit and Fozzie in the same place at the same time. Jerry Nelson doesn't appear in this episode for some reason, and Richard Hunt never appeared on the series. The lack of major Muppet Show characters was a blow to the accessibility of this show, but the behind-the-scenes lack of Oz and Hunt also weakened the show considerably.
Now we're on to the second major plot of the episode. Angry that Kermit has rejected their sketch ideas, Leon and Gonzo set upon MUTINY! (Third time in three weeks. What's wrong, Jim Henson Hour writer's room? Are there some power struggles going on in there? Or were the other two sketches originally written for this episode?) But Kermit doesn't even realize it's mutiny -- he's just happy to have a break. He goes off to relax on a beach hammock, and the rest of the staff argue amongst themselves about what to put on the show. Digit, still strapped into his skates, crashes and cues the Fashion Dolls sketch. Bootsie is running for president, since the episode is kind of themed to politics. Kind of.
Back in the studio, the gang are discussing elections, and ways to choose a leader. Bean Bunny declares himself Prince, and cutely starts a storybook tale about royalty.
In the story, a king has long ago abdicated any power, so he could focus on his career as a hat sharpener. (If the king looks familiar, that's because he showed up in that Cosby Show episode, with the same voice from Kevin Clash, which was filmed the same month this episode aired.) Chris Langham's very Germanic stranger comes to town, in an attempt to persuade the king that kings must lead. The king makes a few useless proclamations, and the story has a happy ending. Then it has an unhappy ending. The unhappy ending feels so perfunctory that I can't help wondering about that writer's room again. It is, of course, a Muppet tradition that things blowing up is funny, but this ending feels like a first draft. I'm by no means a professional writer, but why can't the monsters invade this fable? If you added two minutes to this story, the king could fight off the threat, tying the episode together. Sure, that would undercut the extreme uselessness of his position, but I'd rather have a slightly less funny episode that made more sense as a whole.
And speaking of second-guessing, Gonzo realizes it's no fun to have power, and he misses Kermit. So the whole gang follows Kermit to his beach, and they put on a huge closing number. The song is original, and catchy, and written by the twofellows who wrote most of the Fraggle Rock songs.
The show's happy ending is that most necessary of TV tools, the return to status quo. We know that next week, Kermit will again be back in charge, frazzled and secretly enjoying it. And the others will be happy to disclaim responsibility.
Which might mirror the Jim/Frank dynamic, though I think we do both of them a great disservice if we think of the "mutiny" as an allegory for their relationship, or assume Oz's choice to spend time away led to the creation of this story. Neither Jim nor Frank was exclusively a follower or a leader. Jim was always happy to let Frank step up (he all but ordered Frank to co-direct The Dark Crystal), and Frank would always give up his (very limited) free time to play with Fozzie and Piggy and Bert and Grover. Frank Oz still speaks fondly of his days as a member of the little puppet troupe, and still shows up to do a day or so at Sesame Street most years, but he prefers to be the leader on his film sets.
As to Jim's love for childlike play, free from responsibility, I remember a story from Brian Jay Jones's biography. Sadly, I can't find it in the book to quote, but it goes like this: there's a large group number being filmed. Some bunny in the background is going completely insane, dancing all over the place and upstaging the foreground performers. The director calls out that bunny, and sheepishly Jim pokes his head up above the set and apologizes, promising to behave.
And speaking of power dynamics, next we have a Storyteller episode in which a man cheats death so severely that all of humanity is changed. I'll be back soon to talk about that.
I've been thinking about this for days now, trying to frame this post correctly. As I mentioned last week, The Jim Henson Hour is a pretty flawed show, and this is a deeply flawed episode of it. (A person whose opinion I respect a LOT says it's the worst episode of the series, and even though I disagree with him about some specifics, I hope he's right.) I dislike this episode as a whole, but it has a lot of good (or at least interesting) smaller parts, and I would like to talk about them.
To start the episode, Bean has oh-so-cutely borrowed the satellite dish from the studio, and the attempted repairs leave the studio in shambles. (I promise not to do this every week, but I can't help but be reminded of last night's episode of The Muppets., where poison ivy brings butter, which brings floods and blackouts and both freezing and boiling, to hilarious effect.) The Muppet Theater was always falling apart in one way or another, and even if most of our old friends from The Muppet Show aren't in evidence here, it's nice to feel that chaos will always attack Kermit's projects.
Jim introduces the second half of the show, and then throws it to Kermit, who announces there are a lot of fish on the show, so it's a "friends and relations" thing for him. Our guest Ted Danson admires Kermit's coolness under pressure, and then some folk dancers fall right through the floor. To keep us entertained during the rescue, Kermit cues up the first song. It's a fish, in an undersea bathtub, singing the obvious Bobby Darin hit, with a very familiar-looking duckie by his side.
Don't think too hard about why the fish has to use a bathtub, because his friends the seahorses somehow play dual saxophones down there too. This is a serviceable musical number, with a huge crowd of fish, octopi, clams, jellyfish, and even humans scuba diving.
Then Kermit speaks the first groaner pun of the show ("I think that went swimmingly"), which until now I didn't realize I really wanted as part of the Muppety DNA. That's followed up by a pun about the miners now coming up through the hole in the floor, and we get a sketch from the king of bad puns, Rowlf as Doctor Bob Merlin the Magician, who is trying to cure a man with a fish through his head. Muppet Wiki tells me there are only two Merlin sketches, which is probably good. I love Vet's Hospital, of course, but Merlin's assistant going "Ta-Da!" after every single pun gets annoying fast.
Sidebar: Unless you're a huge Muppet fan, you probably haven't seen "Hey, You're As Funny As Fozzie Bear!" It's a straight-to-video production, and Jim Lewis' first writing credit for Muppets. It attempts to teach kids how to be funny like Fozzie, which seems to completely miss the point. At one point, it teaches the kids that saying "Wocka Wocka!" at the end of every joke makes the joke funnier. I feel like maybe Merlin's assistant had recently seen that video. In a sketch this dense with puns, it's actually helpful to have someone make sure we don't miss one, but I'm also glad it only lasts a few minutes. (To use the most cogent analogy, if Kip Addotta had put a Ray Stevens-style laugh track on his masterpiece Wet Dream, I would hate it. And I wouldn't be the only one.)
Now Ted finally gets to do something, a sketch about a couple taking a cruise on - SURPRISE! - a pirate ship. I love his bone-dry delivery of the anachronistic jokes, and I really like his date. Is there another female Muppet with human hands? I can't think of one, and can only assume those are Fran Brill's.
The pirate jokes aren't terrible, and we get a quick appearance from a parrot with a nearly-famous name, and Link and Gonzo show up again. The joke at the end of the sketch is so inside that I can't imagine it even makes sense to kids. During a swordfight, of course the glasses had to be glued down to the tray, and the show points that out to us in what's probably the smartest joke here. (Knowing his Milligan-Python past, I naturally want to credit that joke to Chris Langham, but that way lies madness.)
Every year, I host a Pirate Movie Night for all of my friends, and this sketch will make a decent companion for Glenda Jackson's episode of The Muppet Show next year.
Then we see a trailer for "The Karate Squid" (no relation) and are regaled with a vaguely offensive (or offensively vague) dialect stereotype. Then the monitor springs a leak, and even more water is shooting onto the studio floor. Digit fixes it (kinda).
The Extremes, who sang "Neutron Dance" last week, sing another top hit of today, "Maneater," as a huge shark gobbles them up one by one. Just like puns, having characters eaten is part of the Muppets' DNA, and again I didn't realize I missed it in the first episode of TJHH. (And, not to put too fine a point on it, in the new ABC show. That show is feeling more Muppety every week, and this week's was the best episode yet. But I still would like, occasionally, to see Big Mean Carl eat someone.)
After another repair gone wrong drenches Kermit from an unlikely source, it's time for another stereotypical dialect sketch. This one, at least, I mostly like. I can't say why, but think it has so much to do with Jerry Nelson's straightforward performance as the sheep, and a lot to do with the sketch's logical construction. It's not easy to write a whole string of sentences that mean two things at once, and have them seem natural. The sheep's egocentric recontextualization of each sentence is on one level a comical misunderstanding, but on another level it's about comedic metaconflict. The sheep hears his species mentioned once (he thinks) and barges his way into the sketch uninvited, rewriting each line so it's about him.
For the second week in a row, we see a captain undergo mutiny (though last episode's mutinous lobsters are now the outside threat), and for some reason the sketch closes with an out-of-left-field homophobia joke.
But! After that, we see Kermit do the best thing in this episode. The studio floor is still all wet, from the various misadventures, and he wonders how he's supposed to entertain people in such adverse conditions. Using only the things around him, he improvises a quick song and dance, and the folk dancing troupe return and join him. It's a quick, joyful, fun moment.
This is the spirit of the Muppets -- making something (a dance, a joke, a simple lizardy-froggy puppet) out of nothing (a wet floor, a species of fish, your mom's old coat). No matter how sophisticated the technology gets, Jim felt that the secret to entertaining people had less to do with the tools and the medium, and more to do with the spirit and heart invested.
Unfortunately, that fun dance wasn't the end of the show. There's an allegory about oceanic pollution. Ted Danson is apparently VERY interested in protecting our oceans, and Jim was an environmentalist way back before that word even existed in the common parlance. I understand how both of them felt very deeply about this topic, and certainly agree with them. I know that Jim did a lot of work making unfunny things (pollution, business meetings) funny, but this is not an example of that. This is not entertaining. It's hectoring, and the show points its finger at me and you and all of us for not doing anything. But it doesn't give us a constructive solution. I can't find any evidence that, even in its original airing, the show gave us an 800 number to call, or a book to read, or a nonprofit, not even TED DANSON'S OWN, to contribute to.
It feels like the show is convicting us for not caring, no matter our personal actions, but can't be bothered to spend twenty seconds telling us an address to write for more info.
Later in the run of the show, Jim would present another environmental fable, which was much more entertaining. I'm looking forward to rewatching, and writing about, Song of the Cloud Forest in the near future. That was, in my recollection, a fun way to spend a half hour and think about the environment and all our animal friends.
And in the next day or two, I'll also write about the second half of this show, Lighthouse Island. Back soon.
It's a little jarring, at first, to see Kermit and his all-new friends (Gonzo and Link pop up, but not till the last two minutes) in a futuristic TV studio, but then Jim Henson himself comes on to remind us he still has his hand on the tiller.
Sidebar: I remember from Brian Jay Jones' outstanding Jim Henson: The Biography that Jim was extremely uncomfortable hosting on camera, and I think it certainly shows during this first appearance. He tries for the casual avuncularity that Walt Disney also strived for as a TV host, and it feels similarly staged to me. (I just rewatched, for example, the old Wonderful World of Color segment where Walt is interacting with a Carousel of Progress animatronic, and even that late into his TV-hosting career, he still feels awkward and stagey.)
We head back, after one last look at that gorgeous lion puppet, to Kermit's studio, and spend a few minutes with our newest Muppet friend, Digit. Digit is mostly a robot, kind of, but his voice is more Reverend Jim than C3PO. He's watching intergalactic TV, but guest star Louie Anderson is worried he'll be displaced by the alien programming.
We have a musical number, "Neutron Dance" in a perfectly late-80s spacey setting, complete with overdone late-80s music video effects. Then, it's the first independent sketch, Louie Anderson in ...
The Muppets, as a genre unto themselves, have always trafficked in commingling seemingly unrelated things. It's a kid's show, with adult jokes. It's the same characters singing 30's songs and current hits of the day in a 19th-century vaudeville theater. It's a frog dating a pig. This works on a smaller level too -- one of my favorite Muppet things from recent years is the barbershop quartet version of "Smells Like Teen Spirit" from the 2011 movie, and more classic Muppet Show songs thanIcancount reinterpret songs in a different style. This is a perfect example of that, and even if it's obvious that Louie and the Codzilla puppet were never in the same room at the same time, that doesn't affect how I watch this sketch.
Now Digit is watching an alien beauty pageant, hosted by Chris Langham. (If you don't know him, I'll thumbnail it for you: he was a friend of Spike Milligan and John Cleese -- you can see him in Life of Brian-- and Cleese recommended him to Jim Henson as a funny writer. Langham joined the Muppet Show writing room, and guested on one of my favorite episodes. He also did a lot of other British comedy stuff, including my friend's favorite thing, People Like Us. He had, um, a career setback, and I don't wanna believe the charges against him, and we'll leave it at that.)
Digit needs more power, so he ends up overdoing it and blacks out. As they try to help him, Kermit watches the "Heavy Culture" channel (along with Clifford! Hi, Clifford!), and we see my favorite sketch from this episode. It's so lightweight, it'll almost blow away, but it's a very silly Pythonesque minute.
Digit's still not well -- he's quoting Sesame Street, Dragnet, and presidential debates -- so Waldo flies into his head, and we end up there too, along with Kermit. As they try to Fantastic Voyage their way out, we see a "Fashion Dolls" sketch...
...which I don't mind. The costumes are creepy, sure, and I seem to recall the writing went off the rails, but this first version of the concept is ok. I like the gender role reversal expressed in it, long before the official Barbie and Ken got their own version in the Toy Story movies.
Oh, and then Louie's back, and he's playing a Space Guy being held in a tractor beam of cuteness by Bean Bunny, who transforms him from a mean action hero into Pink-A-Boo, "the cutest, cuddliest, most pinkaliciously wonderful person in the universe!"
And now it's time for the closing number! What closing number? Digit's finally fixed (kinda) and he's found an alternate universe where The Teppums put on a familiar-looking variety show. So the casts of both shows sing "Chattanooga Choo-Choo," and we learn that Louie's stuck in Pink-A-Boo's body (Kermit: "We've merchandised you to sixteen toy companies!") and the show's over.
I'm going to break the show into two parts, so we'll talk about that Storyteller episode later, but this is a good place for me to mention my immediate desire for this show. When I was 11 in 1989, I was in the second era of my strong Muppet fandom, and I was taping The Muppet Show on TNT every day, and watching Muppet Babies each week, and when my family first saw a promo for The Jim Henson Hour one night on NBC, I remember a strong sense of anticipation. I don't remember any of our responses to the show, but I have a strong memory of purple Timrek The Gorf up there (no relation to Kermit The Gorf).
This show premiered just over a year before Jim's death, and in the long run it's not a lasting tribute. Around the same time, Jim was working on Muppet Vision 3D for Walt Disney World (featuring Bean and Waldo from TJHH), and that has certainly been seen by more people than all the episodes of this show put together. I know MV3D is possibly going away, and I'm okay with that if there's some Muppety replacement, but I like to think of that attraction as Jim's last completed project. It's the final thing Jim was working on, the thing he was thinking about during the last week he shared with us here. It's technologically ambitious, but less complex in its storytelling than The Jim Henson Hour. It's friendlier, and funnier, and has more staying power.
I know there were times Jim felt shackled by the popularity of The Muppets, but people loved Jim because they loved Kermit and his family. Sure, the nonMuppet things Jim did were mostly good, occasionally great, but like TJHH they were inconsistent. Ambitious people, no matter their talent level, will sometimes fall short of their goals. Jim followed his own advice from the end of The Muppet Movie, though:
Life's like a movie, write your own ending Keep believing, keep pretending We've done just what we set out to do Thanks to the lovers, the dreamers, and you.
During the negotiations to sell The Muppets to Disney, Jim Henson took a day out to promote the upcoming collaborations, by appearing in the annual Disney Christmas parade TV special. The whole thing is linked at the bottom, for those of you who want more Alan Thicke in your lives, but I clipped the relevant Kermit sections here, mostly for my own convenience.
This is the opening, with Kermit's name, and a preview of the exciting new things Disney was promoting (the third park in Orlando, The Little Mermaid, and the 35th anniversary of Disneyland).
Regis chats with Kermit, who makes a few loose jokes about Gonzo and Miss Piggy and teases his upcoming big part of the show.
A sleigh ride through the shiny, new Disney-MGM Studios park.
Then, finally, Kermit gets to do his reporter schtick, as he asks a few kids in the crowd what they know about Santa. For a chaotic live thing, this is pretty good, and shows Jim's great rapport with kids and looseness with improv.
Of course, the sale negotiations weren't too friendly, and deteriorated as Eisner drove harder and harder bargains. It's medically unsubstantiated, but possibly fair to say, that the stress of the deal helped weaken Jim. He would be gone five months later.
In brighter news, I'm writing this in 2023. The Muppets finally wound up owned by Disney, and they have produced three very good projects and at least one more that's perfectly adequate. This December, there's a new show planned at that same park (now called Disney's Hollywood Studios) where Kermit and Miss Piggy will host a Christmas stage show.
If you want more nostalgic yuletide parades, almost every year since this is widely available on YouTube, or you can just watch the whole thing from 1989 right here.
Merry Christmas to all, and here's hoping to more frogs and dogs and bears and pigs in the New Year.
, 
, even 
), but I haven't seen the MuppeTelevision segments in forever.
that Jim was extremely uncomfortable hosting on camera, and I think it certainly shows during this first appearance. He tries for the casual avuncularity that Walt Disney also strived for as a TV host, and it feels similarly staged to me. (I just rewatched, for example, the old Wonderful World of Color segment where Walt is interacting with a Carousel of Progress animatronic, and even that late into his TV-hosting career, he still feels awkward and stagey.)
