FYI, for interest parties, this is exactly how I want the opening credits to look in the TV movie about my life, grainy picture and shaky V-hold and all.
The best part is when you feel like you’ve been watching them for long enough and the alphabetical list of guest stars is only at Mimi Maynard, and then the names start to not even seem like the could be real people. “Tiberius Thunderdogs?” “Joe-Ellen Schmurk?” “Turtlesby McPudding?” “Bimberly Howzitt?” “Krysh Krumple-Schott?” “People McNeeple”?
Also: “Is there not a single person of color in this entire condo complex?”
Also also: “And Hamburger Penis as Alexis.”
Tuesday, July 8, 2014
Monday, June 30, 2014
We Need to Talk About Kevin McCallister
On November 20, 1992, America got a second date with Kevin McCallister, a sly little scamp who thrilled audiences by wreaking sadistic violence upon home invasion robbers. Yes, Home Alone 2: Lost in New York is fraught with psychosexual suggestion, but that’s another blog post. This post concerns one example of the tie-in merchandise 20th Century Fox tried to throw at the people who loved the first Home Alone: the talking Kevin pull-string toy.
Yikes indeed.
Even in my younger, dumber days, I thought pull-string toys were strange. I mean, I was a Teddy Ruxpin kid. He at least moved his mouth. A blind person could tell that these toys weren’t actually talking. (Blind child asks, “Why does he sound like his drunk? And in a cave? Underwater? Why can he only say a handful of things?”) But I was only given this because at the time the Home Alone moves were released, I looked enough like Macaulay Culkin that it had become a running joke in my family, and this little miniature me seemed like a way to capitalize on that… somehow.
Furthermore, I can only guess that this toy resulted from some Tiger toy exec running out of all other ideas and suggesting off-the-cuff a pull-string doll that spouts little Kevin’s many catchphrases from the movie. Of course, those catchphrases didn’t happen. Come on: Just try and remember his lines from Home Alone 2. You can’t. No, don’t lie. You can’t. (Let me have this.) Regardless, the Kevin doll does speak five lines that are apparently from the movie — six, if you count his trademark screaming, and the Tiger toy execs sure did. I’ve made it possible that I can share them with you now.
“Enjoy.”
The catchprhases are, in order:
“You guys give up?”
“I’d rather kiss a toilet seat.”
“This is it. No turning back.”
“I’m down here, you morons,” even though it sounds like “I can’t hear you morons.”
[horrible demonic screaming]
“I’m up here! Come and get me!”
Like I said, they’re not exactly catchphrases. They’re just lines, really. Someone who hadn’t seen the movie might wonder why he’s constantly taunting people with his location, and even someone who had seen the movie might find “I’d rather kiss a toilet seat” strange, when it’s just randomly volunteered out of the context of a less desirable course of action. Like, “Oh, as a rule, you generally prefer kissing toilet seats? You’re one fucked-up kid, Kevin McCallister. No wonder your parents are trying to get rid of you.”
He gives good face, though.
Other things I own for some reason:
 |
| “my name is kevin mccallister, and i wasn’t given articulated hands.” |
Even in my younger, dumber days, I thought pull-string toys were strange. I mean, I was a Teddy Ruxpin kid. He at least moved his mouth. A blind person could tell that these toys weren’t actually talking. (Blind child asks, “Why does he sound like his drunk? And in a cave? Underwater? Why can he only say a handful of things?”) But I was only given this because at the time the Home Alone moves were released, I looked enough like Macaulay Culkin that it had become a running joke in my family, and this little miniature me seemed like a way to capitalize on that… somehow.
Furthermore, I can only guess that this toy resulted from some Tiger toy exec running out of all other ideas and suggesting off-the-cuff a pull-string doll that spouts little Kevin’s many catchphrases from the movie. Of course, those catchphrases didn’t happen. Come on: Just try and remember his lines from Home Alone 2. You can’t. No, don’t lie. You can’t. (Let me have this.) Regardless, the Kevin doll does speak five lines that are apparently from the movie — six, if you count his trademark screaming, and the Tiger toy execs sure did. I’ve made it possible that I can share them with you now.
“Enjoy.”
The catchprhases are, in order:
“You guys give up?”
“I’d rather kiss a toilet seat.”
“This is it. No turning back.”
“I’m down here, you morons,” even though it sounds like “I can’t hear you morons.”
[horrible demonic screaming]
“I’m up here! Come and get me!”
Like I said, they’re not exactly catchphrases. They’re just lines, really. Someone who hadn’t seen the movie might wonder why he’s constantly taunting people with his location, and even someone who had seen the movie might find “I’d rather kiss a toilet seat” strange, when it’s just randomly volunteered out of the context of a less desirable course of action. Like, “Oh, as a rule, you generally prefer kissing toilet seats? You’re one fucked-up kid, Kevin McCallister. No wonder your parents are trying to get rid of you.”
 |
He gives good face, though.
Other things I own for some reason:
Friday, June 27, 2014
Did The Dick Van Dyke Show Make a Semen Joke?
Without even hearing my argument, most people remotely familiar with The Dick Van Dyke Show would answer, “No, of course not, because it’s The Dick Van Dyke Show,” but here I go anyway.
You see, I have this problem with media from before I was born — and before censorship standards on mainstream entertainment got more lax. Sometimes I’ll hear or see something that seems sexually suggestive. Part of me wants to say that this piece of media — a song or a TV show or a movie or whatever — comes from a more innocent time when risque was rare. The other part of me counters that, no, the people who made this thing had the same plumbing as we do today and therefore would have understood the implications.
And in this one instance, I can’t decide which seems more likely.
A little context before the clip: In the episode “The Ballad of the Betty Lou,” Rob and his best friend, Jerry Helper, decided to go halvsies on a sailboat. The idea immediately is vetoed by their wives, Laura and Millie, on grounds that it will tear their friendship apart, but the men proceed with the plan anyway, to Laura and Millie’s dismay. In this scene, Rob and Jerry are talking themselves into why this is a good idea. And during that conversation, the following exchange happens.
Jerry corrects Rob’s nautical terminology: “No, no, Rob. I’ll be the captain and you’ll be the seaman.” Cue laughter. And then Laura and Millie shoot each other a knowing look.
If you assume that The Dick Van Dyke Show was an exceedingly wholesome series that had Rob and Laura sleeping in twin beds, you could interpret the exchange fairly innocently. Laura and Millie’s reaction is simply them already seeing that they were right: Differences in opinion over the boat will ultimately cause a fight between their husbands, just like they predicted.
The person arguing for the more risque reading of the scene, however, would point out that Jerry simply correcting Rob is not very funny, even though there’s a laugh cue immediately after Jerry pronounces the word “seaman.” What about that line should get a laugh other than the fact that “seaman” is pronounced exactly like “semen”? And Millie and Laura don’t just roll their eyes, “Here we go again”-style. In fact, Laura arches her eyebrow.
If actors and comedy writers in 1963 functioned more or less like they do today, I have to think that everyone involved would have realized how close they were coming to making a big, goopy cum joke. (I mean, someone at some point had to make a joke about the show’s name.) But then again, I wonder why a censor didn’t object to the line, if only to avoid the possibility that any puritanical-minded viewer would think that filth was invading primetime TV… unless back then such a joke was so unheard of than no one would have read smut into it, reproductive plumbing notwithstanding.
I’d ask the guy credited with writing the episode, Martin Ragaway, but he died in 1989. What do you think?
And while you ponder that, perhaps also have a think about the time Elizabeth Montgomery was on Password and the secret word ended up being “vibrator.”
EDIT: And if you want to see the joke in the context of the whole episode, here you go. The line comes around the 2:30 mark.
You see, I have this problem with media from before I was born — and before censorship standards on mainstream entertainment got more lax. Sometimes I’ll hear or see something that seems sexually suggestive. Part of me wants to say that this piece of media — a song or a TV show or a movie or whatever — comes from a more innocent time when risque was rare. The other part of me counters that, no, the people who made this thing had the same plumbing as we do today and therefore would have understood the implications.
And in this one instance, I can’t decide which seems more likely.
A little context before the clip: In the episode “The Ballad of the Betty Lou,” Rob and his best friend, Jerry Helper, decided to go halvsies on a sailboat. The idea immediately is vetoed by their wives, Laura and Millie, on grounds that it will tear their friendship apart, but the men proceed with the plan anyway, to Laura and Millie’s dismay. In this scene, Rob and Jerry are talking themselves into why this is a good idea. And during that conversation, the following exchange happens.
Jerry corrects Rob’s nautical terminology: “No, no, Rob. I’ll be the captain and you’ll be the seaman.” Cue laughter. And then Laura and Millie shoot each other a knowing look.
If you assume that The Dick Van Dyke Show was an exceedingly wholesome series that had Rob and Laura sleeping in twin beds, you could interpret the exchange fairly innocently. Laura and Millie’s reaction is simply them already seeing that they were right: Differences in opinion over the boat will ultimately cause a fight between their husbands, just like they predicted.
The person arguing for the more risque reading of the scene, however, would point out that Jerry simply correcting Rob is not very funny, even though there’s a laugh cue immediately after Jerry pronounces the word “seaman.” What about that line should get a laugh other than the fact that “seaman” is pronounced exactly like “semen”? And Millie and Laura don’t just roll their eyes, “Here we go again”-style. In fact, Laura arches her eyebrow.
If actors and comedy writers in 1963 functioned more or less like they do today, I have to think that everyone involved would have realized how close they were coming to making a big, goopy cum joke. (I mean, someone at some point had to make a joke about the show’s name.) But then again, I wonder why a censor didn’t object to the line, if only to avoid the possibility that any puritanical-minded viewer would think that filth was invading primetime TV… unless back then such a joke was so unheard of than no one would have read smut into it, reproductive plumbing notwithstanding.
I’d ask the guy credited with writing the episode, Martin Ragaway, but he died in 1989. What do you think?
And while you ponder that, perhaps also have a think about the time Elizabeth Montgomery was on Password and the secret word ended up being “vibrator.”
EDIT: And if you want to see the joke in the context of the whole episode, here you go. The line comes around the 2:30 mark.
Thursday, June 26, 2014
Andrew Wyeth in San Benito County
I realize the lameness in writing a post that essentially says, “Guys, I did a neat thing on Instagram! Go look at it!” But that’s essentially what I’m doing. Instagram may be a place for people to post photos of sandwiches and dogs who think they’re people, but occasionally you see something that’s not Insta-filtered within an inch of its life and not entirely ugly and not pointless. And this may be one of those.
In fact, to this day, the original posting of the old photo still gets hits from people trying to find Moesko Island.
Photos of places, previously:
It’s also a different angle on a house that I photographed immediately after receiving a new camera for Christmas in 2003 — and this is a standard camera that didn’t double as a phone, if that dates this story at all. That photo also skews a little Andrew Wyeth, but more Andrew Wyeth by way of The Ring, horse and all.
In fact, to this day, the original posting of the old photo still gets hits from people trying to find Moesko Island.
Photos of places, previously:
Monday, June 23, 2014
Sit Down on the Chair / Think About Your Dance Affairs
I make no excuses for being a complicated man whose likes are separated only by a small margin from his dislikes. Today’s example: an obscure ’80s song that sounds not all that different from the one I made fun of just last week.
Pros: Unlike the last song, it’s not about King Kong. Cons: Unlike the last song, it’s not about King Kong.
The band is Scotch. The song is 1984’s “Disco Band.” The genre is italo disco. And the country of origin is Italy. (Yes, that combo did make it somewhat more difficult to Google.) I’ve written about italo disco before, and all those same virtues and failings apply here: “Disco Band” has the trappings of the more familiar ’80s songs I love, but with the added novelties of being something I hadn’t heard a thousand times before as well as being sung in irreparably broken English. (Sample lyrics: “Baby / Baby / You’re my really disco band / I like you.”) Also, it must be said: For a song that opens out with a sample of someone coughing, it builds into something that’s surprisingly not terrible.
I’m not saying this is a good song, exactly. It’s kitsch. But it’s immensely listenable kitsch, unlike the King Kong song, which is something you just have to listen to out of the sheer astonishment that a group of people got together and all agreed that yes, in fact, this is a good, worthwhile thing to which humans will enjoy listening.
Here is that song again, for posterity, so the world may know:
So yeah, my musical choices are basically indefensible.
Italo disco, previously:
Pros: Unlike the last song, it’s not about King Kong. Cons: Unlike the last song, it’s not about King Kong.
The band is Scotch. The song is 1984’s “Disco Band.” The genre is italo disco. And the country of origin is Italy. (Yes, that combo did make it somewhat more difficult to Google.) I’ve written about italo disco before, and all those same virtues and failings apply here: “Disco Band” has the trappings of the more familiar ’80s songs I love, but with the added novelties of being something I hadn’t heard a thousand times before as well as being sung in irreparably broken English. (Sample lyrics: “Baby / Baby / You’re my really disco band / I like you.”) Also, it must be said: For a song that opens out with a sample of someone coughing, it builds into something that’s surprisingly not terrible.
I’m not saying this is a good song, exactly. It’s kitsch. But it’s immensely listenable kitsch, unlike the King Kong song, which is something you just have to listen to out of the sheer astonishment that a group of people got together and all agreed that yes, in fact, this is a good, worthwhile thing to which humans will enjoy listening.
Here is that song again, for posterity, so the world may know:
So yeah, my musical choices are basically indefensible.
Italo disco, previously:
Tuesday, June 17, 2014
King Kong Dancing
(Context: Nate is my college roommate and my best friend.)
Hi Nate!
I know you and Ashley have been working on getting the wedding together, and I know you specifically requested that I not make a speech or attempt to influence the creation of the wedding in any way, but I just happened across something that I thought would be good for the ceremony. Don’t you think it would be good if you guys walked down the aisle to this?
I knew you’d like it. Thanks in advance for helping me feel like part of the wedding!
Love,
Drew
Drew,
I only listened to 30 seconds of this before I closed the window. What is wrong with you?
Nate
Hi Nate!
I think what you should maybe do is listen to the whole song before you make a judgment about it. I know it’s kind of weird at the beginning when the narrator says “New York City, eight-o’-clock news,” because you probably won’t get married in New York, but I think if you ride it out for the full seven and a half minutes, you’ll see it's actually the best song to walk down the aisle to — well, dance down the aisle to, but you probably figured that out.
Here it is again!
Do you need to borrow my gorilla suit?
Thanks again for letting me help. I really feel like this is my day, too.
Love,
Drew
Drew,
Why the hell do you think it would take us seven and a half minutes to walk down the aisle? Also, why is the song that long? Also, what is this? Was this a tie-in for the remake of King Kong? It’s terrible. You like terrible things.
Nate
Hi Nate!
Well, I guess I figured it would take a while for, like, your parents and grandparents to dance down the aisle. And no, it’s not associated with the Jessica Lange movie, I don’t think. This seems to have come out about a decade later, but I think the fact that it's more of a free-standing work should make you feel more able to use it in the wedding and make it your own, you know?
It's probably worth it to listen to it again, so here you go!
Glad you’ve come around!
Love,
Drew
Drew,
Please stop. We’re very busy, and I'm only taking time to write to you now because I want to make sure you know that the King Kong song will not be part of our ceremony.
You will be seated in the back.
Please don't do anything weird.
That songs sucks. Again, just please stop.
Nate
Hi Nate!
I think you're maybe overlooking how the song would be good because it can help raise awareness about Africa?
Mull it over.
See, now you have to use it because you feel bad.
Can I get a plus-two for the reception?
Love,
Drew
Drew,
Well, now you've done it. You’re not getting an invitation. We’re not even telling you where the ceremony is. Now you’ll never know whether we use your song or not.
You brought this on yourself.
Nate
(Context: Jill is my college roommate and my second-best friend.)
Hi Jill!
I know you said you were having a small wedding, but I think I just found a reason for you to invite everyone you know. I'm just going to leave this hear and float the question of how you envisioned yourself walking down the aisle. However awesome it was in your head, prepare to be blown away.
You're welcome!
Love,
Drew
Monday, June 9, 2014
Super Milli Vanilli Bros.
You think back on the weird little pop culture nothings you experienced as a kid, and you sometimes wonder, “Did that actually happen the way I’m remembering it? Or did my feeble childhood brain and the passage of time distort all that into something far weirder than it actually was?” With me, it’s usually the latter. In this one instance, it’s not.
Yes, the Mario Bros. did once meet Milli Vanilli.
I’m not going to say that the Super Mario Bros. Super Show and its various sequel series don’t hold up all these years later, but that’s mostly because I never went back and invested much time in them since they were first on. I did, however, just now rewatch the October 27, 1990, episode “Kootie Pie Rocks” just for the sheer what-the-fuck-in-a-time-capsule factor. It’s just kind of baffling to think that yes, this episode existed.
Here’s the plot:
The princess — and remember, she’s Princess Toadstool at this point, and not Princess Peach — is stoked to visit New York City in “the real world” to watch a concert by her favorite music group, Milli Vanilli. (How Top 40 reaches all the way to the Mushroom Kingdom, we’ll never know.) Here the duo is dancing, per the magic of DIC animation:
Bowser’s terrible daughter, Kootie Pie, gets word of this and throws a fit. (Another name note: It’s Wendy, but it’s not. For reasons I’ve never had explained to me, the DIC Mario cartoons renamed Bowser’s kids instead of using the rock star-inspired names they have in the games.) To appease Kootie Pie, Bowser beams Milli Vanilli into his airship mid-concert — “Koopnapped,” per Toadstool, even if that doesn’t make sense.
At the Koopa Kastle, Kootie Pie uses her magic wand to turn Rob and Fab into accountants — you know, because then they would be unable to sing their hit songs — but Mario devises a plan to free them: Sneak in dressed as a racially insensitive back-up band and help Milli Vanilli perform. Kootie doesn’t question why a back-up band would inexplicably show up, so she transforms Rob and Fab back and then proceeds to be too stupid to realize that Mario and Luigi’s instrumentation sucks, with the awkward implication being that Milli Vanilli performs poorly when live and unproduced. The group escapes back to New York City. Rob and Fab dedicate “Girl, You Know It’s True” to the princess, which, when you think about the implications, is the greatest slight of all.
Miscellaneous notes:
Kootie Pie sounds like an evil Cyndi Lauper. And yeah, she’s awful.
This is what Milli Vanilli fans looked like, per The Adventures of Super Mario Bros. 3:
This frame is also awkward:
For what it’s worth, DIC actually acquired the rights to “Blame It on the Rain,” and “Milli Vanilli” actually “sing” it in the episode, though of course it’s weird to think about now how Fab Morvan and Rob Pilatus are playing cartoon versions of themselves lip syncing to someone else’s recording of the song. This episode aired just twenty days before the band’s Grammy was revoked.
Rob Pilatus was found dead of a suspected drug and alcohol overdose on April 2, 1998. As long as we’re talking about weird musical connections to make with Super Mario Bros., it’s worth noting that Wendy O. Williams, the Plasmatics lead singer for whom Bowser’s daughter takes her name, committed suicide just four days later.
Since the last time I wrote about my theory about the Koopalings’ names, it turns out that Larry Koopa (Cheatsy in the cartoons) wasn’t named after Larry King but instead after U2 drummer Larry Mullins Jr. I’d guessed Larry King just because Morton Koopa Jr. was named after Morton Downey Jr., the talk show host who had previously worked as a singer-songwriter, and I guessed that if one Koopaling could have a talk show host namesake, so could another. Nope!
The background paintings are actually decent:
If you want to watch the whole episode, Youtube user Unknown Archive has posted it in full on YouTube, in good quality and with a few bits that have been otherwise lost as a result of the fact that all subsequent airings of the episode replace Milli Vanilli’s music with generic filler. The fact that someone bothered to go back in and restore the original audio and deleted scenes for such a shitty moment for television is kind of awesome.
And that is all. Go outside maybe!
Yes, the Mario Bros. did once meet Milli Vanilli.
I’m not going to say that the Super Mario Bros. Super Show and its various sequel series don’t hold up all these years later, but that’s mostly because I never went back and invested much time in them since they were first on. I did, however, just now rewatch the October 27, 1990, episode “Kootie Pie Rocks” just for the sheer what-the-fuck-in-a-time-capsule factor. It’s just kind of baffling to think that yes, this episode existed.
Here’s the plot:
The princess — and remember, she’s Princess Toadstool at this point, and not Princess Peach — is stoked to visit New York City in “the real world” to watch a concert by her favorite music group, Milli Vanilli. (How Top 40 reaches all the way to the Mushroom Kingdom, we’ll never know.) Here the duo is dancing, per the magic of DIC animation:
Bowser’s terrible daughter, Kootie Pie, gets word of this and throws a fit. (Another name note: It’s Wendy, but it’s not. For reasons I’ve never had explained to me, the DIC Mario cartoons renamed Bowser’s kids instead of using the rock star-inspired names they have in the games.) To appease Kootie Pie, Bowser beams Milli Vanilli into his airship mid-concert — “Koopnapped,” per Toadstool, even if that doesn’t make sense.
At the Koopa Kastle, Kootie Pie uses her magic wand to turn Rob and Fab into accountants — you know, because then they would be unable to sing their hit songs — but Mario devises a plan to free them: Sneak in dressed as a racially insensitive back-up band and help Milli Vanilli perform. Kootie doesn’t question why a back-up band would inexplicably show up, so she transforms Rob and Fab back and then proceeds to be too stupid to realize that Mario and Luigi’s instrumentation sucks, with the awkward implication being that Milli Vanilli performs poorly when live and unproduced. The group escapes back to New York City. Rob and Fab dedicate “Girl, You Know It’s True” to the princess, which, when you think about the implications, is the greatest slight of all.
Miscellaneous notes:
Kootie Pie sounds like an evil Cyndi Lauper. And yeah, she’s awful.
She also puts on a mini-skirt to go the concert instead of wearing her usual outfit of high heels, Marge Simpson pearls and no clothes whatsoever.
This is what Milli Vanilli fans looked like, per The Adventures of Super Mario Bros. 3:
This frame is also awkward:
For what it’s worth, DIC actually acquired the rights to “Blame It on the Rain,” and “Milli Vanilli” actually “sing” it in the episode, though of course it’s weird to think about now how Fab Morvan and Rob Pilatus are playing cartoon versions of themselves lip syncing to someone else’s recording of the song. This episode aired just twenty days before the band’s Grammy was revoked.
Rob Pilatus was found dead of a suspected drug and alcohol overdose on April 2, 1998. As long as we’re talking about weird musical connections to make with Super Mario Bros., it’s worth noting that Wendy O. Williams, the Plasmatics lead singer for whom Bowser’s daughter takes her name, committed suicide just four days later.
Since the last time I wrote about my theory about the Koopalings’ names, it turns out that Larry Koopa (Cheatsy in the cartoons) wasn’t named after Larry King but instead after U2 drummer Larry Mullins Jr. I’d guessed Larry King just because Morton Koopa Jr. was named after Morton Downey Jr., the talk show host who had previously worked as a singer-songwriter, and I guessed that if one Koopaling could have a talk show host namesake, so could another. Nope!
The background paintings are actually decent:
If you want to watch the whole episode, Youtube user Unknown Archive has posted it in full on YouTube, in good quality and with a few bits that have been otherwise lost as a result of the fact that all subsequent airings of the episode replace Milli Vanilli’s music with generic filler. The fact that someone bothered to go back in and restore the original audio and deleted scenes for such a shitty moment for television is kind of awesome.
And that is all. Go outside maybe!
Super Mario pop cultural connections, previously:
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