Miniature Giants Part 5: Not Marx Is Still Good Marx

This will be the final installment of my series on large-size Marx figures, though I have enough material to bring it back as a feature. I have previously commented that perhaps the greatest testimony to Marx's legacy is that many toys that they didn't make are still attributed to them. Just as many of the most iconic Beach Boys songs weren't actually by the Beach Boys, casual collectors and sellers list items as from Marx that were made by other companies and in some cases were being made well after Marx bit the dust in 1980. In that spirit, here's a lineup of rogues that weren't from Marx, but still represent the Marx style. To start with, here's another lineup of several of our rogues, with Scooper and the Truckstop Queen for reference:

The first of our rogues are here on a technicality. These are Mexican reissues of loosely related Marx figures probably released in the early to mid-1960s. I actually obtained this pair in a quite terrible "vintage" bag that I'm sure was from no earlier than the late 1980s. The figures were noteworthy for their unusual scale, either 3 or 4.5 inch, and detailing that looks rather "retro" even for the 1960s. They were also probably the last Marx astronaut figures to be unambiguously portrayed with weapons, including the rather surreal knife-wielding figure seen here. Here's a pic of the pair with Bossk the bounty hunter:

What really sets this group apart, and will certainly get them at least one further installment, is the quite vivid facial expressions. For this alone, I rank them as easily the most bizarre, disturbing and flat-out evil-looking Marx items I have seen or handled (including the "casualty figures!). The old man/ commander especially manages to look more menacing than the armed figures. Here's a few more shots to show what I mean:

"Looks like someone brought a knife to an orbital-laser-cannon fight..."

The next in the lineup is a large-size version of an astronaut released by Timmee with the Galaxy Laser Team set, and quite possibly the single most frequently listed "Marx" astronaut. He is curiously realistic for a distinctly fanciful line, to the extent that I have wondered if the sculpt was developed independently for something closer to the Marx "Apollo" set. I am certain that the open hand was originally intended to hold some kind of accessory not included with the set, most likely a flag of the kind already common in army man sets. Why this was retained in the large-size figure is less clear. Unfortunately, it will be readily apparent that the manufacturer did not put in nearly as much detail as Marx. Here's some more pics of the figure:

The last item is one I have held back for this post. I acquired the figure as a pair with the Apollo cameraman astronaut, and it was a major reason I took the deal. It was sold as another Marx figure, but it was quite clear to me that it was quite different. In fact, compared to Marx's very manly style, it seemed almost subversive, to the point that my first suspicion was that it came from a later period. Here are some pics of the mystery offering:

In the time it took to receive the figure, I was able to find out enough to establish a provenance that turned out to be routine. The figure was part of a group made by Lido, a major manufacturer of army men, in 1963, about the time Marx started releasing 6-inch figures. (These included a grenadier figure that was even more bizarre and ineffectual looking.) Additional reports indicate that this and other Lido molds were purchased by Asian manufacturers in the 1970s and then used well past 1990, perhaps accounting for my sense of a "modern" look. 

Even with an explicable provenance, I was struck by how different it was not just from Marx offerings but from any number of idealized depictions of the military. The oddly large head, the neutral expression and especially the almost unmasculine jaw all present something quite different from the usual determined, patriotic and stoic troops that more orthodox toymakers churned out in droves. This feels like a trooper for the era's emerging realities, of young men recruited or drafted into conflicts they did not understand with no certainty that victory could be achieved or even defined. Of course, this is undoubtedly reading far too much into things the designers would never have been competent enough to try on their own volition. But even unintended subtexts are still potentially potent, especially in a toy reused for generations, and it is not completely fanciful to wonder if this was one of the many tiny cracks that shaped the outcome and aftermath of Vietnam.

Again, here's the major links:

Toy Soldier HQ article on Lido army men

Marx Wild West Guide to astronaut figures

Little Weirdos post on large sized Galaxy Laser Team figures, plus the original post on GLT

And a recap of the rest of the installments in this series:

Part 1: Enemy Marx (Japanese figures)

Part 2: Marx Marxists! (Soviet figures)

Part 3: Marx on the Moon (Apollo/ astronaut set)

Part 4: The Good, the Marx and the Ugly (Wild West and "'casualty" figures)

Retrobots Revisited: Rogun knockoff spinoff not-Gobots robots

While I have been meaning to get to this post for a very long time, its immediate genesis was a matter of chance. In the vast world of cheap, cheesy and/ or weird 1980s-vintage toys, there is one name so notorious, prolific and unrepentant you can run across them at random: Arco Toys, one of the most prolific producers of vintage low-budget toys. They turned up previously as the only company to admit to making or distributing the notorious "patchisaurs", and I immediately knew them. Yet, I was still being reminded of their creations in the course of researching this piece. The company was best known for generic toys, knockoffs and equally sketchy licensed "rack toys", which they continued to produce even as other prolific offenders were folding or fading away. They also had a somewhat uncanny ability to release knockoffs at the same time or even ahead of the properties that were theoretically being ripped off, notably releasing The Other World the same year as He Man and Space War before Kenner's first Star Wars figures. I can think of no better summary of their work than a quote from Toy Galaxy: "There are good toys, there are bad toys, and there are Arco toys!"

To pick up the trail from the other end, my original encounter with the items under consideration would have happened in the late-ish 1980s, perhaps as early as 1987 or as late as 1989. Somewhere in the midst of other acquisitions, I picked up two robot figures sculpted in "army man" scale, probably as a reward in school. They obviously didn't make a strong impression immediately, but they stood out in my collection for their unusual level of detail and overall quality, which compared favorably to plenty of larger and more sophisticated robot toys. I was particularly impressed with the sculpt shown at the top of this post, which I thought of as "H" for the symbol on its/ his faceplate. I also recognized that the design of both bots seemed intended for peaceful tasks, without a hint of the weaponry that bristled from more typical robot toys then and now. Over time, they became a go-to for a space expedition, typically led by a Timmee Galaxy Laser Team astronaut I also had lying around. Here's a pic of my original pair with a couple Timmee figures:

As usual with these things, I only picked up on what the figures were in the era of the internet. In the course of learning about other toys (mainly GLT and "patchis"), I discovered that my bots had been part of a larger set called RoGun Robots, originally released in 1984 around the same time as a series of Gobots with a similar name. Of those who knew of the set, many were unimpressed or entirely critical, frequently further criticizing them as a knockoff of the Gobots line. I further concluded that the ones I had were by a wide margin the best. Still, I searched intermittently for examples on sale, and eventually found a set on sale. Here's a pic of a full selection:

It will already be evident that the critics had a point. The entirety of the set is six sculpts in three undistinguished colors, and since they were typically sold in bags of 48, the whole would have been far less impressive than the individual bots. There were also plenty of flaws with the design of the sculpts. My original pair were reasonably functional, particularly H, but not especially dynamic. I also never could think of a reason for H to have a letter on his face, no matter how much I wanted to. The next best is the short robot with the raised arms. Its design generally matches the aesthetics of the other two, while the pose adds enough flair to hint at actual motion. Here's more pics.

Things quickly go downhill with the remaining three. I consider the next runner up to be the one with the hemispherical head. It still another looks functional, but to me the design hints at a militaristic purpose out of character with the others. The last and least both looked as if they are supposed to fly, with one I think of as "Whirler" even having what look like tiny engines on the end of each arm. Here's more pics of these lesser bots, including what seems to be a variant of the Whirler sculpt.

Now, we can circle back to the bigger questions. Were these bots merely knockoffs? Are they any better or worse than other offerings from Arco? At the end of the day, did Arco toys really deserve the notoriety they have received? The honest answer is that Arco was no more guilty than the larger players they took their cues from. When Hasbro's Transformers and Tonka's Gobots arrived simultaneously in US stores, both lines were little if anything more than amalgamations of toys originally sold separately in Japan. While Transformers would focus on unifying existing and new designs under a common mythology and aesthetic, the Gobots line made an equally defensible and certainly more economical decision to continue accepting new items from available suppliers and worry about continuity later, if at all. Of course, one of the companies they turned to was Arco. 

Unfortunately, there is little room for argument about the results that followed. Arco delivered a whopping four Ro-Gun bots that resembled bootleg Megatrons from the Bizarro continuum, and several more of the worst and most ridiculed toys to be sold under the Gobots' already tarnished name. I might normally say something in defense at this point, but I must say that the actual Gobots were clearly inferior to the 2-inch toys.  (However, my pick for worst Gobot would have to be the mind-boggling ScooterBot, which I was mildly surprised to find had nothing to do with Arco.) For some reason, Arco decided to reuse the same name for their bagged army man bots, and the rest is history.

Unfortunately, the postscript is that Arco was soon to follow its products into history. While thee is no evidence that the Arco Gobots lost money, they seem to mark the end of the line for the company as a creative force.  The toys that they produced afterward were just as cheap, but with hardly a trace of the streak of psychedelic, near-psychotic imagination that had made seemingly routine products either beloved or notorious. The end of the line surely came when the company was bought out by Mattel in 1986. The toys that came after are like the tributes of a conquered and humiliated vassal, Captain Power dart gun sets, second-tier Disney merchandise and loads of Barbie accessories. It was an ignominious and for and infamous company, but while they lasted, they left a legacy that will linger on in the minds of anyone who lived through it. Because it turns out nostalgia and PTSD are pretty close to the same thing.

Again, I have saved the bulk of the links for last, and this time there are plenty!
Little Weirdos Rogun Robots and The Other World, because this site has everything.
Toy Galaxy Ro-Gun Cap Rifle review, source of the quote in the opening paragraph.
Little Rubber Guys forum discussion of Rogun 2 inch bots
That Junkman overview of Space War
CollectionDX reviews of Arco Destroyer and Aircraft Carrier Gobots

Miniature Giants Part 4: The Good, the Marx and the Ugly

In this series on large-size Marx toys, this post brings things full circle. When I was a kid in the early to mid 1980s, sci fi/ fantasy toys were the rage, and my choices in toys certainly reflected it. But there were a fair number of usually ill-fated attempts to revive Western-themed toys, presumably fueled by parents and grandparents.who were nostalgic for the cowboys-and-Indians crazes of their own childhoods, and these too came into my toybox in enough numbers to make an impression. There were playsets from the larger Little People and Playmobil lines, which tended to blend in with farm-themed sets from the same manufacturers. There were old-style "army man" figures, including a "swoppet" set I'm still fishing out pieces of. I even had a few figures including a horse from the merchandise line for The Legend of the Lone Ranger, which I must have received years after the movie had come and gone. But the one that really made an impression was a giant Marx Indian, featured on the far right, which I now know was originally released in 1964. Here's another pic of the figure with one of the Japanese soldiers.

This is one where I have a particularly clear recollection of how I obtained the figure. In 1987, I played with the toy in a doctor's office and convinced the doctor to let me take it home, which I now hope means it wasn't an uncommon item. As I figured out what it was (around the time I acquired and then identified the Japanese soldiers), I took it as a given that it was a reissue or copy; I even thought it might have been even bigger than 6 inches, based on recollections of holding it in much smaller hands. However, it was only in the course of preparing this series that I fished it out for closer inspection,  and was a little unnerved to see the authentic Marx stamp on the base. I ordered the two other featured figures in hopes of comparison, and am now satisfied that it most likely was manufactured during Marx's later days, perhaps the mid-70s or later, I have further noted a little bit of translucent "flash" around the base, similar to that on the Soviet officer. Here's some closeup pics of this and a second Indian I obtained.

Yeah, I'm putting my money on the guy with the gun.

Along with the second Indian, I acquired a cowboy/ gunslinger, clearly sculpted as one of Marx's particularly notorious "casualty" figures (covered in a previously referenced article here), which I will be getting to in more detail. What both figures have in common is that they are posed on one foot with an unusually small base that I found noticeably springy. Despite this, the figures are quite stable. I further determined that both figures were missing parts, specifically two feathers on the Indian's head band and a revolver that would have been dangling from the gunslinger's open hand. On closer inspection, I could not find unequivocal signs of breakage, particularly on the Indian, suggesting that the molds may have been streamlined at an early date. With a little further research I found pictures of specimens of the gunslinger missing the gun without other apparent damage, including one still in packaging, which I will also get to below.

As for the gunslinger itself, there is really very little that can be said. The pose in itself is stereotyped and almost tame, clearly based on the movie convention of a defeated villain dramatically clutching his chest before dropping tidily to the ground. The expression, however, is truly horrid, almost but not quite to the point of being comically grotesque. There is also even more detail than usual, including separately sculpted fingers. Here are few more pics.

Now, we can get to the usual postscript, with a little bredth and depth than usual. By the late 1980s,the Western genre had been dragged down by a series of high profile failures, including the above-mentioned Lone Ranger film and the even bigger bomb Heaven's Gate. Some of the last noteworthy Western productions were science-fictional crossovers, and even then the results were uneven. The most notable and ambitious was surely the 1987-1988 cartoon Bravestar, produced by Filmation with possibly more weirdness than usual. That experiment lasted long enough for a modest toy line, but ultimately left more of an impression on those (admittedly including myself) who saw ads and clips years later than on anyone who watched it at the time.  The one inarguable success was Back to the Future 3, released in 1990, which on top of being a critical and commercial success managed to provide at least a fair compromise between movie/ TV conventions and comparatively realistic depictions of Old West life.

Meanwhile, Marx continued production of Western toys to the very end and ultimately beyond. Wild West playsets continued well into the 1970s, while others reused parts from earlier Wester sets, egregiously the surreal 1960s Guerilla Warfare set. The company even released the "Ready Gang" line of Wild West action figures in 1977-1978, among the first of a boomlet of Western figures that the Lone Ranger tie-in line marked the end of. Then, even Marx slipped away, its Mexican affiliate Plastimarx ground on with Western products including large-size figures. I am sure that this is the source of the most significant artifact of the line,  the above-mentioned bagged sets, which are sighted easily enough in online auctions. Typical specimens consist of easily recognized Marx figures identified as made in Mexico and sold under the generic label "Cowboys And Indians". Unfortunately, I was unable to find any further information about them, the chief reason I am not including links to any image of the set, but I have no doubt these sets were made well after 1980, and might even be in production today.

Finally, let's take one more look at the ill-fated gunslinger from a different angle. Not much more to see, just more Marx detail… Wait a minute...

Truly, the past was more messed up than we can imagine.

Here's links for the earlier installments

Enemy Marx

Marx Marxists!

Marx on the Moon!

Legion of Silly Dinosaurs! The Patchisaurs And Friends, or Knockoffs Are Forever

For this installment, I'm bringing you what this blog was always meant to cover, the world of dinosaur toys. I have loved dinos (for which this blog is named) and prehistoric creatures for all my life, and I have been indulged by family and friends with all manner of related toys and collectibles. In the course of time, I have had some of the very best, from high-quality toys to museum grade models. But as with many things, the ones that have always stayed in my memory are the small, cheap and obscure. This fascination has led me to discover genre which I call the "generic dino": The seemingly untraceable yet oddly specific designs and sculpts, often dated or wholly fanciful even for much earlier days, handed down like oft-told tales from one anonymous manufacturer to another, to appear and reappear years and decades apart. And in this already vast and tangled category, none are more notorious and seemingly unkillable than a group of Asian sculpts known as the patchisaurs, which look less like dinosaurs than alien monsters from another dimension as portrayed in a Godzilla movie seen during an acid trip. Here are pics of what I am convinced to be the "main" group:

The tale of these creatures has been told often enough that I will recap it quite briefly. In the early to mid 1970s, sets of strange toys believed to originate from Hong Kong began appearing in American discount stores. It was clear that the sculpts were influenced heavily by Japanese "kaiju" movies and related TV shows, to the extent that sleuths have directly tied several to specific movies. They soon gained notoriety among adults as well as children, particularly when several were incorporated into the original "Dungeons and Dragons" games. Despite this attention, their origin remained mysterious both then and now. In the course of my own research, I found pictures of at least one preserved bag bearing the legendary Arco name, which will certainly be appearing here. However, it is possible (particularly given the company's known reputation) that they either copied another manufacturer's designs or simply packaged and distributed figures produced elsewhere.

My own experience starts a decade later. In the late 1980s, I picked up at least two and possibly a good part of the set as prizes at school and perhaps arcades. I particularly recall one I named Clubtail, and now find suspiciously similar to Gorgo. I also remember the one now sometimes called umberhulk based on certain red copies but which I only ever saw in white as shown above. I took that one as a sort of a dragon-like alien, and as far as I recall I considered the bits around the mouth to be insectoid mandibles. I think I also had at least one more of the "upright" creatures, which I have dubbed the Armadillo Guy and Flattop. I'm almost certain I had or at least saw the one I have always thought of simply of as "Leaper", an absolutely evil-looking creature that resemble nothing so much as a chubacabra. Here's a few more closeups, including a recent copy/ clone of Clubtail.

"I vant to suck your goat. My friend vill curl into a ball and roll away."

"I feel pretty..."

Then around 1990, I spent a chunk of allowance money to buy a bagged set at a local grocery store. By this time, I think I had lost at least some of the figures I had acquired before, and I believe the ones I have now are all from the set except for one (the "bulette") I bought quite recently. I recall it was at this time that I found the insect-like creature immortalized by D&D as the rust monster, which I tend to associate vaguely with the landstriders in The Dark Crystal. It also included some comparatively realistic dinos that may have been made along with the original "patchis", particularly a pterosaur/ Pteranodon that I have encountered many times since. Other "normal" dinos that can commonly be seen in patchi bags and lots are clearly copies/ bootlegs of dinos from Marx and other companies in the 1950s and '60s, and I am satisfied that several good Marx copies I still have were from the "patchi" bag. Here are pics of some "Marx clone" sculpts, and my larger collection of the Pteranodon creature. The stegosaurus looks a little too happy, while the rex looks like he's begging for extinction.

It was ultimately the Pteranodon that did the most to keep the line in my mind, in large part because it lacked the near-hallucinogenic weirdness of more notorious patchisaurs. The sculpt details are realistic and downright good enough that it could easily be taken as another clone of a more orthodox dino, and with no conclusive answers on when or how the patchis were first produced, I cannot rule out that it is just that. The one detail that is quite strangely "off" is that feathers are sculpted in place of the wing membrane. Even more strangely, as shown in an extra close up below, the neck and underside of the wing appear to have some kind of hair, an idea suggested in some 19th-century reconstructions but not widely revived until the "warm-blooded" controversies of the 1970s and later.  I also find myself hard-pressed to emphasize just how often I have seen this creature. I have found it in everything from mixed bags at second-hand stores to sets sold at Walmart. Even then, I have usually only bought the damn things if they were include with something else that caught my interest, and I may still have missed one or two that might be lying around in one place or another.

This will be as good a segue as any to their legacy in the age of the internet. By the early 2010s, collectors, D&D fans and other enthusiasts were comparing notes and recognizing the phenomenon. Various nicknames were revived or assigned for various creatures, while the term "patchisaurs" caught on for the line as a whole. Further intrigue quickly swirled around the "owlbear", a sculpt included in the D&D lore but rarely if ever seen since. Today, specimens for sale have about the same status as a Holy Grail used by Bigfoot and the Loch Ness Monster at Area 51. And yet, new production continues! Here are pics of a boxed set I acquired around 2017, source of the bulette and one of the mutant-rexes as well as yet another Pteranodon. As can be seen, this is more openly fantasy-themed, though it also includes reasonably good representations of the mammals Macrauchenia and Uintatherium.

What I think keeps the patchisaurs in people's minds is that they capture a way of looking at dinosaurs that can stay vivid and relevant long after earnestly "scientific" representations have gone as petrified as fossils. The only artifacts that can rival them in my mind are the very Victorian sculptures of the Crystal Palace exhibitions or the crude and wildly weird roadside dinosaurs of Holbrook, which I used as a stand in for the Apocalypse Now temple in my Terminator fan/ parody novel The Rookie. The greatest impact for me is that I have found myself thinking unbidden of the patchisaurs in connection with far more capable works: The aforementioned Gorgo and The Dark Crystal; the offbrand-kaiju Gamera series; the landscapes of Filmation's sci fi/ fantasy mashups, especially the short-lived Star Trek toon; and even Stephen King's bonkers novella "The Mist". This is surely where the patchisaurs were always meant to be, misfits in a mixed toybox with only the imagination to decide where they should go.

Rather than try to put links in the article, I have assembled a list of the most useful articles I can easily find; unfortunately, there are plenty more I have read at one time or another but either could not be relocated, having missing links and images, or may simply be gone. As often as possible, I have tried to reference material that introduced me to specific subjects.

Little Weirdos "Chinasaurs", a less fortunate name for the patchis. This blog was one of my earliest sources and many other obscure small-scale toys.

An account by Tony DiTerlizzi, including pics of several vintage bags and the recent boxed set I purchased.

A discussion on Little Rubber Guys.

A DumpStat post on the owlbear, a bit heavy on the D&D lore for my personal tastes.

Miniature Giants Part 3: Marx on the Moon!

We're now in part 3 of a series on giant Marx figures, and finally up to what started this: The Marx astronaut line, possibly the most iconic and influential of their creations, and all the more so because casual collectors frequently identify items from completely different manufacturers as part of it. To summarize very briefly, Marx produced "army man" scale astronaut figures throughout the 1950s and 1960s, many of which were a bit fanciful or "retro" even for the time. As the moon landing became a likely reality, Marx conceived something quite different that would be remembered much longer: In place of space men with fishbowl helmets and ray guns, they designed detailed astronauts in modern-looking suits with plausible scientific gear and instruments. In 1970, the world saw the new realistic astronauts in the full glory of 6 inch scale, of which I have acquired five in three different sculpts. Here's a few more sample pics, with the Truckstop Queen and her companion Ken R. Wampa:

Of these figures, the first one I acquired is one I have dubbed Scooper, followed by one I think of as the Commander, aka Briefcase Guy, and last the Cameraman. The first two have been of most interest, to the extent that I chose to buy extra copies of them over buying up a more complete set. It is perhaps most noteworthy that they have reasonably discrete facial features, contrary to the assessment of many critical collectors who consider the sculpts copies of a single individual. There is also some difference in the plastic, with both of the copies of Scooper appearing glossier than the Commander. I am still not satisfied whether this is from the use of different plastics at potentially different dates or some variable of manufacturing and subsequent preservation. On the latter vein, I have noticed that more weathered or simply grimy figures can show detail more sharply. This can be seen with the photo of the two Scoopers above, with the one on the left (and first I obtained) definitely being the more discolored of the two (though not as much as the Wampa I have included for further comparison!) The difference proved most pronounced between the two Commander figures, which an be seen below.

I did discover some more quantifiable variations, which proved easiest to discern in the "backpacks". The most striking is that the "duplicate" Scooper has a quite distinct bulging pack that I suspect represents an earlier version of the mold despite the figure's less aged appearance; unfortunately, it proved quite difficult to capture in photos. I include the following picture as the best I could make, with the bulging pack on the right.

Meanwhile, I had already recognized even more dramatic differences in the cameraman, which apart from anything else measured about 1/4 of an inch shorter. The feel and appearance of the plastic was also far more different than for the other figures, with an almost gray or translucent appearance. I absolutely believe this is a later production with cheaper plastic, though it bears the same production mark as the other figures. This was further born out by far more condition issues including the obliteration of detail on the lens clearly visible I photos of other specimens I used for reference. Despite such flaws, the detail is particularly sharp, and I hoped to further confirm a variant by inspection of the pack. At first, I found this inconclusive, but on further inspection, I concluded that the pack appeared straighter and less "deep", probably to (further?) reduce the amount of plastic. Here's more pics that should also give a better view of this and other figures' details.

On final evaluation, the 6 inch astronauts are among the very best of the large size Marx figures, but also give an all too clear picture of the company's troubles through the following decade. By the best available research, production of the figures probably stopped by the mid-1970s, and it is not difficult to guess why. Though they are shorter than many other nominal 6" figures, they are considerably more heavy and robust, which would have been an increasing liability as Marx's profits declined. They also were placed squarely in the path of the evolving action figure format and the coinciding explosion of science fiction-themed toys. On a deeper level, they embodied the ideals of a moment in time which was already passing. By the 1980s, children were no longer satisfied with the idea of space travel as exploration for its own sake, and Marx would not survive long enough to provide other toys or tales.

If there is a happy postscript, it is that the smaller counterparts went on to a better fate. Though some debate when they were first produced, I see no reason to doubt that they were introduced with the large figures in 1970, and they were certainly still in production at the end of the decade, when they surfaced in several of the very last Marx playsets to be produced, including the Galaxy Command set released in 1979 when the company was already in bankruptcy. More importantly, they set a new standard for detail and realism in science fiction toys, and not just for those on the "army man" scale. I am absolutely sure these little guys were the direct basis of any number of toys that will be featured here sooner or later, particularly the infamous Galaxy Laser Team line that has loomed large both in my childhood and adulthood. If imitation is flattery, the Marx astronauts would have their own pyramid, and you could probably build it entirely with plastic from toys that ripped them off.

For my earlier installments, see here and here.