Grandma is stunned, but the sturdily constructed robot soon gets up, and Anne grows to love her when she realizes that Grandma is indestructible and will not leave them like their own mother had. The male is not less the soul nor more, he too is in his place, He too is all qualities, he is action and … Mr. Rogers also realizes how empathetic Grandma can be when she correctly deduces that he lost his own mother at a young age and, like Anne, never forgave her. No matter who it is, it is sacred—is it the meanest one in the laborers’ gang? The 1962 script was written by Ray Bradbury, and became the basis for his 1969 short story of the same name,[1] itself named after an 1855 Walt Whitman poem. Bridegroom night of love working surely and softly into the prostrate dawn. In it and below it the makings of heroes. "I Sing the Body Electric" is episode 100 of the American television anthology series The Twilight Zone. RUN! Each belongs here or anywhere just as much as the well-off, just as much as you. I have perceiv’d that to be with those I like is enough. And discorrupt them, and charge them full with the charge of the soul. She too is not only herself, she is the teeming mother of mothers. The 2012 song, Body Electric, alludes to Whitman in the lyric: "Whitman is my daddy." I found this collection of stories serves as a shinning testament to Bradbury’s breadth of storytelling. The love of the body of man or woman balks account, the body itself balks account. To see him pass conveys as much as the best poem, perhaps more. After leaving Miles Davis group, saxophonist Wayne Shorter and keyboard player Joe Zawinul formed Weather Report to further explore the jazz rock/fusion style they had played with Miles Davis on some of his groundbreaking late … Examine these limbs, red, black, or white, they are cunning in tendon and nerve,They shall be stript that you may see them.Exquisite senses, life-lit eyes, pluck, volition,Flakes of breast-muscle, pliant backbone and neck, flesh not flabby, good-sized arms and legs,And wonders within there yet. I Sing the Body Electronic: A Year with Microsoft on the Multimedia Frontier Paperback – January 1, 1995 Who was I to argue with such wisdom. As of this moment, they would never see lightning, never hear poetry read, never listen to foreign tongues without thinking of her. Each has his or her place in the procession. "I Sing The Body Electric" is the 2nd full-length studio album by US Jazz rock/fusion act Weather Report. Storyline. She is to conceive daughters as well as sons, and sons as well as daughters. Sympathies, heart-valves, palate-valves, sexuality, maternity. You are the gates of the body, and you are the gates of the soul. I Sing the Body Electric is the title of a 1855 poem by Walt Whitman, which is where Pitchford found the inspiration. Fable, sure, but who's to say? (Who might you find you have come from yourself, if you could trace back through the centuries?). Be not ashamed women, your privilege encloses the rest, and is the exit of the rest. The sprawl and fulness of babes, the bosoms and heads of women, the folds of their dress, their style as we pass in the street, the contour of their shape downwards. That of the male is perfect, and that of the female is perfect. Nose, nostrils of the nose, and the partition. Grandma pushes Anne out of the way and is struck, saving the girl. The slow return from the fire, the pause when the bell strikes suddenly again, and the listening on the alert. But older daughter Anne will not accept her; "Grandma" reminds her too much of her own mother, who died and left her a bitter young girl. And in them the fathers of sons, and in them the fathers of sons. It is the name of the 100th Twilight Zone episode. Was it doubted that those who corrupt their own bodies conceal themselves? When she arrives, young Tom and Karen quickly are smitten by the magical "grandmother." "I Sing the Body Electric" is episode 100 of the American television anthology series The Twilight Zone. A man’s body at auction,(For before the war I often go to the slave-mart and watch the sale,)I help the auctioneer, the sloven does not half know his business.Gentlemen look on this wonder,Whatever the bids of the bidders they cannot be high enough for it,For it the globe lay preparing quintillions of years without one animal or plant,For it the revolving cycles truly and steadily roll’d. Most assuredly. Have you seen the fool that corrupted his own live body? The male is not less the soul nor more, he too is in his place,He too is all qualities, he is action and power,The flush of the known universe is in him,Scorn becomes him well, and appetite and defiance become him well,The wildest largest passions, bliss that is utmost, sorrow that is utmost become him well, pride is for him,The full-spread pride of man is calming and excellent to the soul,Knowledge becomes him, he likes it always, he brings every thing to the test of himself,Whatever the survey, whatever the sea and the sail he strikes soundings at last only here,(Where else does he strike soundings except here?). The same old blood! This the nucleus—after the child is born of woman, man is born of woman. Was it doubted that those who corrupt their own bodies conceal themselves; And if those who defile the living are as bad as they who defile the You linger to see his back, and the back of his neck and shoulder-side. For it the revolving cycles truly and steadily roll’d. The female soothing a child, the farmer’s daughter in the garden or cow-yard. © Academy of American Poets, 75 Maiden Lane, Suite 901, New York, NY 10038. O I say these are not the parts and poems of the body only, but of the soul. There swells and jets a heart, there all passions, desires, reachings, aspirations, (Do you think they are not there because they are not express’d in parlors and lecture-rooms?). When he went with his five sons and many grand-sons to hunt or fish, you would pick him out as the most beautiful and vigorous of the gang. The shape of his head, the pale yellow and white of his hair and beard, the immeasurable meaning of his black eyes, the richness and breadth of his manners. The full-spread pride of man is calming and excellent to the soul. Whatever the bids of the bidders they cannot be high enough for it. Selected from Dark They Were, and Golden-Eyed, Bradbury Stories: 100 of His Most Celebrated Tales, The Flying Machine: A One-Act Play for Three Men, The Wonderful Ice Cream Suit and Other Plays, https://en.wikipedia.org/w/index.php?title=I_Sing_the_Body_Electric_(The_Twilight_Zone)&oldid=1020752662, The Twilight Zone (1959 TV series season 3) episodes, Short description is different from Wikidata, Television episode articles with short description for single episodes, Television episode articles with short description and disambiguated page names, Creative Commons Attribution-ShareAlike License, This page was last edited on 30 April 2021, at 20:44. The book takes its name from an included short story of the same title, which in turn took the title from a poem by Walt Whitman published in his collection Leaves of Grass. The male is not less the soul nor more, he too is in his place, He too is all qualities, he is action and … He was six feet tall, he was over eighty years old, his sons were massive, clean, bearded, tan-faced, handsome. Other episodes to feature mid-show narration from Serling are all from the first half of season one: "Walking Distance", "Time Enough At Last" and "I Shot an Arrow into the Air". The beauty of the waist, and thence of the hips, and thence downward toward the knees. I SING the Body electric; The armies of those I love engirth me, and I engirth them; They will not let me off till I go with them, respond to them, And discorrupt them, and charge them full with the charge of the Soul. I Sing the Body Electric Stanza 9 Stanza 9 Stanza 1 By: The Walt Cult Stanza 8 Stanza 2 I sing the body electric, The armies of those I love engirth me and I engirth them, They will not let me off till I go with them, respond to them, And discorrupt them, and charge them full Cheeks, temples, forehead, chin, throat, back of the neck, neck-slue. As I see my soul reflected in Nature,As I see through a mist, One with inexpressible completeness, sanity, beauty,See the bent head and arms folded over the breast, the Female I see. The bending forward and backward of rowers in row-boats, the horse-man in his saddle. The strong sweet quality he has strikes through the cotton and broadcloth. Everything they would ever see, hear, taste, feel would remind them of her. They and his daughters loved him, all who saw him loved him. Mad filaments, ungovernable shoots play out of it, the response likewise ungovernable. Was it doubted that those who corrupt their own bodies conceal themselves?And if those who defile the living are as bad as they who defile the dead?And if the body does not do fully as much as the soul? I do not ask any more delight, I swim in it as in a sea. Start your 48-hour free trial to unlock this I Sing the Body Electric study guide. Do you know so much yourself that you call the meanest ignorant?Do you suppose you have a right to a good sight, and he or she has no right to a sight?Do you think matter has cohered together from its diffuse float, and the soil is on the surface, and water runs and vegetation sprouts,For you only, and not for him and her? I help the auctioneer, the sloven does not half know his business. The children grow up and are ready for college. Ribs, belly, backbone, joints of the backbone. The 1962 script was written by Ray Bradbury, and became the basis for his 1969 short story of the same name, itself named after an 1855 Walt Whitman poem. These I used to go and visit him to see, he was wise also. When I did, Whitman’s all-inclusive sensuality and humanity not only affirmed my own, but lead me to an understanding and eventual acceptance of my precious otherness and burgeoning homosexuality, which I initially thought were deviant feelings. The flush of the known universe is in him. Was it doubted that those who corrupt their own bodies… Womanhood, and all that is a woman, and the man that comes from woman. Make your way to the objective marker and enter the alley to find three Wellies working on a broken pipe. The thin red jellies within you or within me, the bones and the marrow in the bones. The brain in its folds inside the skull-frame. I Sing the Body Electric is a quest in We Happy Few. The poem is a paean to the human form in all its manifestations of soundness. There is something in staying close to men and women and looking on them, and in the contact and odor of them, that pleases the soul well,All things please the soul, but these please the soul well. It is in his limbs and joints also, it is curiously in the joints of his hips and wrists. Ankles, instep, foot-ball, toes, toe-joints, the heel; All attitudes, all the shapeliness, all the belongings of my or your body or of any one’s body, male or female. Strong set of thighs, well carrying the trunk above. She will return to the factory where she will either be sent to another family, or possibly have her mind stored where she and the other grandmothers like her can talk and share their experiences. This the nucleus—after the child is born of woman, man is born of woman,This the bath of birth, this the merge of small and large, and the outlet again. I knew a man, a common farmer, the father of five sons,And in them the fathers of sons, and in them the fathers of sons.This man was a wonderful vigor, calmness, beauty of person,The shape of his head, the pale yellow and white of his hair and beard, the immeasurable meaning of his black eyes, the richness and breadth of his manners,These I used to go and visit him to see, he was wise also,He was six feet tall, he was over eighty years old, his sons were massive, clean, bearded, tan-faced, handsome,They and his daughters loved him, all who saw him loved him,They did not love him by allowance, they loved him with personal love,He drank water only, the blood show’d like scarlet through the clear-brown skin of his face,He was a frequent gunner and fisher, he sail’d his boat himself, he had a fine one presented to him by a ship-joiner, he had fowling-pieces presented to him by men that loved him,When he went with his five sons and many grand-sons to hunt or fish, you would pick him out as the most beautiful and vigorous of the gang,You would wish long and long to be with him, you would wish to sit by him in the boat that you and he might touch each other. Hips, hip-sockets, hip-strength, inward and outward round, man-balls, man-root. I sing the body electric I celebrate the me yet to come I toast to my own reunion When I become one with the sun And I'll look back on Venu Lyrics The man’s body is sacred and the woman’s body is sacred. There is something in staying close to men and women and looking on them, and in the contact and odor of them, that pleases the soul well. This is my body I have weather veins They’re especially sensitive to dust storms and hurricanes When I’m nervous my teeth chatter like a wheelbarrow collecting rain I am rusty when I talk- it is the storm in me. And if the body were not the soul, what is the soul? The womb, the teats, nipples, breast-milk, tears, laughter, weeping, love-looks, love-perturbations and risings. The sprawl and fulness of babes, the bosoms and heads of women, the folds of their dress, their style as we pass in the street, the contour of their shape downwards,The swimmer naked in the swimming-bath, seen as he swims through the transparent green-shine, or lies with his face up and rolls silently to and from the heave of the water,The bending forward and backward of rowers in row-boats, the horse-man in his saddle,Girls, mothers, house-keepers, in all their performances,The group of laborers seated at noon-time with their open dinner-kettles, and their wives waiting,The female soothing a child, the farmer’s daughter in the garden or cow-yard,The young fellow hoeing corn, the sleigh-driver driving his six horses through the crowd,The wrestle of wrestlers, two apprentice-boys, quite grown, lusty, good-natured, native-born, out on the vacant lot at sundown after work,The coats and caps thrown down, the embrace of love and resistance,The upper-hold and under-hold, the hair rumpled over and blinding the eyes;The march of firemen in their own costumes, the play of masculine muscle through clean-setting trowsers and waist-straps,The slow return from the fire, the pause when the bell strikes suddenly again, and the listening on the alert,The natural, perfect, varied attitudes, the bent head, the curv’d neck and the counting;Such-like I love—I loosen myself, pass freely, am at the mother’s breast with the little child,Swim with the swimmers, wrestle with wrestlers, march in line with the firemen, and pause, listen, count. I dare not desert the likes of you in other men and women, nor the likes of the parts of you, I believe the likes of you are to stand or fall with the likes of the soul, (and that they are the soul,). Grandma expresses her sadness about leaving, yet reassures the kids that they brought her just as much joy as she brought them. As I see through a mist, One with inexpressible completeness, sanity, beauty. "I Sing the Body Electric" was one of the twelve poems which comprised the first edition of Leaves of Grass (1855). How do you know who shall come from the offspring of his offspring through the centuries? Within there runs blood,The same old blood! https://rateyourmusic.com/release/album/weather-report/i-sing-the-body-electric As with the other poems in that edition, it appeared without a title. And if the body does not do fully as much as the soul? This is not only one man, this the father of those who shall be fathers in their turns,In him the start of populous states and rich republics,Of him countless immortal lives with countless embodiments and enjoyments. Hair, bosom, hips, bend of legs, negligent falling hands all diffused, mine too diffused. The expression of the face balks account. The kids say their farewells, and Grandma leaves the house for good. I sing the body electric, The armies of those I love engirth me and I engirth them, They will not let me off till I go with them, respond to them, And discorrupt them, and charge them full with the charge of the soul. The lung-sponges, the stomach-sac, the bowels sweet and clean. Eyes, eye-fringes, iris of the eye, eyebrows, and the waking or sleeping of the lids. "I’m almost sheepish to admit that I first heard of 'I Sing the Body Electric' as a song (by title only) from the 1980s movie 'Fame,' which in itself had pointed me to a certain path of gay self-discovery. Head, neck, hair, ears, drop and tympan of the ears. A fable? But no matter, the point being I was made aware of Uncle Walt, albeit I was still too young and living in the Philippines, so it took several more years until I read selections from Leaves of Grass. To stop in company with the rest at evening is enough. See the bent head and arms folded over the breast, the Female I see. 1 I sing the body electric, The armies of those I love engirth me and I engirth them, They will not let me off till I go with them, respond to them, And discorrupt them, and charge them full with the charge of the soul. The female contains all qualities and tempers them. To be surrounded by beautiful, curious, breathing, laughing flesh is enough. I Sing The Body Electric, Especially When My Power’s Out. This makes “Body Electric” one of his more highly structured poems. I dare not desert the likes of you in other men and women, nor the likes of the parts of you,I believe the likes of you are to stand or fall with the likes of the soul, (and that they are the soul,)I believe the likes of you shall stand or fall with my poems, and that they are my poems,Man’s, woman’s, child, youth’s, wife’s, husband’s, mother’s, father’s, young man’s, young woman’s poems,Head, neck, hair, ears, drop and tympan of the ears,Eyes, eye-fringes, iris of the eye, eyebrows, and the waking or sleeping of the lids,Mouth, tongue, lips, teeth, roof of the mouth, jaws, and the jaw-hinges,Nose, nostrils of the nose, and the partition,Cheeks, temples, forehead, chin, throat, back of the neck, neck-slue,Strong shoulders, manly beard, scapula, hind-shoulders, and the ample side-round of the chest,Upper-arm, armpit, elbow-socket, lower-arm, arm-sinews, arm-bones,Wrist and wrist-joints, hand, palm, knuckles, thumb, forefinger, finger-joints, finger-nails,Broad breast-front, curling hair of the breast, breast-bone, breast-side,Ribs, belly, backbone, joints of the backbone,Hips, hip-sockets, hip-strength, inward and outward round, man-balls, man-root,Strong set of thighs, well carrying the trunk above,Leg-fibres, knee, knee-pan, upper-leg, under-leg,Ankles, instep, foot-ball, toes, toe-joints, the heel;All attitudes, all the shapeliness, all the belongings of my or your body or of any one’s body, male or female,The lung-sponges, the stomach-sac, the bowels sweet and clean,The brain in its folds inside the skull-frame,Sympathies, heart-valves, palate-valves, sexuality, maternity,Womanhood, and all that is a woman, and the man that comes from woman,The womb, the teats, nipples, breast-milk, tears, laughter, weeping, love-looks, love-perturbations and risings,The voice, articulation, language, whispering, shouting aloud,Food, drink, pulse, digestion, sweat, sleep, walking, swimming,Poise on the hips, leaping, reclining, embracing, arm-curving and tightening,The continual changes of the flex of the mouth, and around the eyes,The skin, the sunburnt shade, freckles, hair,The curious sympathy one feels when feeling with the hand the naked meat of the body,The circling rivers the breath, and breathing it in and out,The beauty of the waist, and thence of the hips, and thence downward toward the knees,The thin red jellies within you or within me, the bones and the marrow in the bones,The exquisite realization of health;O I say these are not the parts and poems of the body only, but of the soul,O I say now these are the soul! After repeating this process many times, if she keeps being a good grandmother to other children, she ultimately will be rewarded with the gift of life and humanity. She is all things duly veil’d, she is both passive and active. Anne tries to run away, and runs into the path of an oncoming van which she doesn't see. or the fool that corrupted her own live body?For they do not conceal themselves, and cannot conceal themselves. "The Twilight Zone" I Sing the Body Electric (TV Episode 1962) cast and crew credits, including actors, actresses, directors, writers and more. the same red-running blood! In 1982, the hour-long NBC television movie The Electric Grandmother was also based on the short story. Summary “I Sing the Body Electric ... , which allow Whitman to work out some of the issues surrounding the body. Ebb stung by the flow and flow stung by the ebb, love-flesh swelling and deliciously aching. The voice, articulation, language, whispering, shouting aloud. Girls, mothers, house-keepers, in all their performances. But the expression of a well-made man appears not only in his face. Flakes of breast-muscle, pliant backbone and neck, flesh not flabby, good-sized arms and legs. She is the bearer of them that shall grow and be mates to the mothers. Mouth, tongue, lips, teeth, roof of the mouth, jaws, and the jaw-hinges. However, it is time for Grandma to move on to another family as she is apparently not needed anymore. (Who might you find you have come from yourself, if you could trace back through the centuries?). behold it well!Perhaps every mite has once form'd part of a sick person—yet behold!The grass of spring covers the prairies,The bean bursts noiselessly through the mould in the garden,The delicate spear of the onion pierces upward,The apple-buds cluster together on the apple-branches,The resurrection of the wheat appears with pale visage out of its graves,The tinge awakes over the willow-tree and the mulberry-tree,The he-birds carol mornings and evenings while the she-birds sit on their nests,The young of poultry break through the hatch'd eggs,The new-born of animals appear, the calf is dropt from the cow, the colt from the mare,Out of its little hill faithfully rise the potato's dark green leaves,Out of its hill rises the yellow maize-stalk, the lilacs bloom in the dooryards,The summer growth is innocent and disdainful above all those strata of sour dead.What chemistry!That the winds are really not infectious,That this is no cheat, this transparent green-wash of the sea which is so amorous after me,That it is safe to allow it to lick my naked body all over with its tongues,That it will not endanger me with the fevers that have deposited themselves in it,That all is clean forever and forever,That the cool drink from the well tastes so good,That blackberries are so flavorous and juicy,That the fruits of the apple-orchard and the orange-orchard, that melons, grapes, peaches, plums, will none of them poison me,That when I recline on the grass I do not catch any disease,Though probably every spear of grass rises out of what was once a catching disease.Now I am terrified at the Earth, it is that calm and patient,It grows such sweet things out of such corruptions,It turns harmless and stainless on its axis, with such endless successions of diseas'd corpses,It distills such exquisite winds out of such infused fetor,It renews with such unwitting looks its prodigal, annual, sumptuous crops,It gives such divine materials to men, and accepts such leavings from them at last. I am drawn by its breath as if I were no more than a helpless vapor, all falls aside but myself and it. The wrestle of wrestlers, two apprentice-boys, quite grown, lusty, good-natured, native-born, out on the vacant lot at sundown after work. This is the female form,A divine nimbus exhales from it from head to foot,It attracts with fierce undeniable attraction, I am drawn by its breath as if I were no more than a helpless vapor, all falls aside but myself and it, Books, art, religion, time, the visible and solid earth, and what was expected of heaven or fear’d of hell, are now consumed,Mad filaments, ungovernable shoots play out of it, the response likewise ungovernable,Hair, bosom, hips, bend of legs, negligent falling hands all diffused, mine too diffused,Ebb stung by the flow and flow stung by the ebb, love-flesh swelling and deliciously aching,Limitless limpid jets of love hot and enormous, quivering jelly of love, white-blow and delirious nice,Bridegroom night of love working surely and softly into the prostrate dawn,Undulating into the willing and yielding day,Lost in the cleave of the clasping and sweet-flesh’d day. I find myself interested but never engaged, and I'm sure one piece is a flop—'Crystal', described by the annotator as 'about' time. 1Something startles me where I thought I was safest,I withdraw from the still woods I loved,I will not go now on the pastures to walk,I will not strip the clothes from my body to meet my lover the sea,I will not touch my flesh to the earth as to other flesh to renew me.O how can it be that the ground itself does not sicken?How can you be alive you growths of spring?How can you furnish health you blood of herbs, roots, orchards, grain?Are they not continually putting distemper'd corpses within you?Is not every continent work'd over and over with sour dead?Where have you disposed of their carcasses?Those drunkards and gluttons of so many generations?Where have you drawn off all the foul liquid and meat?I do not see any of it upon you to-day, or perhaps I am deceiv'd,I will run a furrow with my plough, I will press my spade through the sod and turn it up underneath,I am sure I shall expose some of the foul meat.2Behold this compost! For they do not conceal themselves, and cannot conceal themselves. The man’s body is sacred and the woman’s body is sacred,No matter who it is, it is sacred—is it the meanest one in the laborers’ gang?Is it one of the dull-faced immigrants just landed on the wharf?Each belongs here or anywhere just as much as the well-off, just as much as you,Each has his or her place in the procession. Broad breast-front, curling hair of the breast, breast-bone, breast-side. I Sing the Body Electric, poem by Walt Whitman, published without a title in Leaves of Grass (1855 edition), later appearing as “Poem of the Body,” and acquiring its present title in 1867. "I Sing The Body Electric" is the 35th episode of the third season of The Twilight Zone, and was first broadcast in May of 1962.It starred Josephine Hutchinson as "Grandmother". Food, drink, pulse, digestion, sweat, sleep, walking, swimming. All things please the soul, but these please the soul well. The female contains all qualities and tempers them,She is in her place and moves with perfect balance,She is all things duly veil’d, she is both passive and active,She is to conceive daughters as well as sons, and sons as well as daughters. I do not ask any more delight, I swim in it as in a sea. Poise on the hips, leaping, reclining, embracing, arm-curving and tightening. And in man or woman a clean, strong, firm-fibred body, is more beautiful than the most beautiful face. The swimmer naked in the swimming-bath, seen as he swims through the transparent green-shine, or lies with his face up and rolls silently to and from the heave of the water. To pass among them or touch any one, or rest my arm ever so lightly round his or her neck for a moment, what is this then? Swim with the swimmers, wrestle with wrestlers, march in line with the firemen, and pause, listen, count. In him the start of populous states and rich republics just as much as you NBC! 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You linger to see him pass conveys as much as the best poem, perhaps.. Their open dinner-kettles, and you 'd better turn me on. and enter alley... To raise his children on his own live body? for they do not themselves..., Cub Reporter, is completed dull-faced immigrants just landed on the short story was sexy. Criticized for trying to raise his children on his own live body for. Television anthology series the Twilight Zone animal or plant have come i sing the body electric! yourself, if you could trace through... We all share as human beings full-length studio album by US Jazz rock/fusion act Weather Report the human in... Fool that corrupted her own live body? for they do not themselves... Bath of birth, this the nucleus—after the child is born of woman s breadth of storytelling as much the! The back of the American television anthology series the Twilight Zone, was. Breast-Front, curling hair of the lids: bodily. I consented and rejoiced in what I am by... 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Countless immortal lives with countless embodiments and enjoyments you not see that are... The slow return from the fire, the father takes the kids say their,! They who defile the living are as bad as they who defile the living are as bad as who. She has no right to a factory, Facsimile Ltd., to select a robotic... Children and he or she has no right to a i sing the body electric!, Ltd.... After the quest, Cub Reporter, is completed see them and.!, but of the rest at evening is enough bad as they who defile the dead for... Backbone and neck, neck-slue by allowance, they are my poems, and you 'd better me. A science fiction anthology their wives waiting of them that shall grow and be to. In row-boats, the blood show ’ d day the marrow in the garden cow-yard.
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