Think of the number of things can go wrong in the creation of a cartoon: perhaps the sound timing is off, or the writing was bad from the get-go, or the whole concept is just abysmal. That's what would make a bad cartoon. To make a cartoon like Sam Singer's Bucky and Pepito, you have to have some sort of reverse-Midas touch. There is absolutely nothing right in what you are about to see. It is a perfect storm of terrible animation and for that reason alone needs to be witnessed.
Thanks to the folks at MetaFilter for helping me locate it.
I usually don't give music I dislike a second shot, but I am glad I did this time. At first, I didn't think much of Twin Shadow's album, but when Dave re-recommended it to me, I gave it another go. I was reminded of when I didn't enjoy my first go-around with Boards of Canada -- I was listening to the music, but spending the whole while anticipating a beat would drop. I originally heard Twin Shadow as a decent singer with a Casio default setting backing track, but after a couple of listens, I think the strength of the vocals -- New Romantic crooner with a bit of Peter Murphy-dark -- makes up for the backbeat.
When I was a teenager, staying home from school meant one important thing: mid-90s SNL on the living room couch. Every afternoon, Comedy Central would air an unceasing amount of old SNL reruns, most of them firmly in the post-Dennis Miller and pre-Will Ferrell episodes. One of the best castmembers, at the time, was Mike Meyers. Now, considering The Love Guru and whatever other cinematic abortions he's been responsible for lately, it may be hard to remember that he was absolutely brilliant on SNL. And he was never better on SNL than he was on "Sprockets." Here's Meyers and special guest -- and one of my favorite actors ever -- Kyle MacLachlan:
On a complete whim, I've recently started to read the early-90s Marvel crossover event Infinity Gauntlet. For video game fans who have never heard of the series, it was used as the storyline for the 1995 Capcom fighter Marvel Super Heroes. I'm not entirely sure what sparked my interest in that particular storyline, but so far I've been enjoying it. Early-90s Marvel was my entrance into comics, so it is a bit of a nostalgia trip as well.
This one panel stood out to me, because it is just absolutely adorable. I am not sure what the were going for -- omnipotent power or something -- but it looks like Chibi-Thanos has located the six Infinity Marbles he needs to beat the other Titans on the schoolyard.
I didn't particularly care for Woody Allen's Bananas, although the following nine second-long scene was one of his funniest short takes:
The phrase “outsider art” is thrown around a whole lot these days. Well, it may be, honestly I'm just cribbing a half-forgotten Simpsons quote here. In the old days an outsider had to be formally “discovered” (or, if you're Sterling Smith, one of the numerous magazines and radio stations you plied with your music had to give you notice) and displayed by members of the in-crowd. Thanks to the egalitarian and almost populist nature of Internet – as far as weird people and their weird output is concerned – the rise and fame of an outsider artist can happen anywhere, anytime.
Last night I was introduced to Australian hobbyist video artist/bakery assistant/gardener and cat lover Wendy and the quality and subject matter of her videos just lit up every one of those wonderful “outsider artist material” areas of my brain. It's self-taught art for the sake of making something beautiful and yet having this flavor of utter derangement that is impossible to replicate on purpose. Honest-to-god, I live for this stuff.
I began learning English long before I came to America. Thanks to Perestroika, Russian television aired a serialized BBC cartoon called Muzzy in Gondoland, which was aimed toward ESL education. I couldn't tell you if it helped or not but behind the American imports -- Duck Tales, Chip and Dale, Rescue Rangers and Muppet Babies -- it was my favorite thing to watch on television.
I've recently gotten a hold of a number of seminal Dungeons and Dragons magazine Dragon back issues and hoo-boy are these an absolute treasure trove. The articles, which I've only gotten a chance to gloss, are as in-depth as you would expect any 70s hobbyist magazine to contain; this was long before the day gaming mags were simply eyecandy graded from 7 to 10 and press release circle-jerks.
The plentiful illustrations have an absolutely endearing pro-am quality to them that no modern publication can ever hope to match. For instance, take a look at out friend Baphomet, here, illuminated goatman-bosom and all. By the worried look of the skeleton on the left, I think the demon king just announced that no, those nachos are not sitting very well at all:
Or what about this Frazetta-style work, ripped right from the pages of Edgar Rice Burrough's John Carter of Mars novels. I love the concerned look on the maiden's face as she faces what seems to be a dire version of Lion-O's faithful companion Snarf. In fact, the cat-thing seems to be echoing her worried expression. Perhaps they are both wondering what, exactly, Hank Furnace of Neptune is doing, staring off into the distance like that, weapon drawn, for what has been fifteen minutes now.
Finally, I bring to you what the editors of Dragon magazine and absolutely nobody else thinks of when they hear the words “Dungeon Master.”
I spent a good portion the day fighting with the Post Office to recover four weeks of missing mail. So now, I want out:
The original Marty McFly, Eric Stoltz: