Greetings, Choppers!!

The end of summer is upon us!  And with the changing of the seasonal guard, so does my summer series prepare to exit, stage right.

But, I wanted to end “The Don Remembers” with a bang.  Or at least, with a lame crazy stunt no one will notice.  So, as my final offering to you all, I will be going… live!

Well, not really.

What I will be doing is spending this installment on my couch, watching that awesome love letter to those who lived the eighties – Hot Tub Time Machine.  During the course of my film viewing, I will be doing a regular commentary – highlighting each bit of eighties nostalgia I come across and sharing my own, brief thoughts on it.  As I do so, I will also time stamp each comment, so that anyone who wishes to do so can follow along on their own.

Yeah, like that would happen.

So without further ado…  I present to you Hot Tub Time Machine…

Oh, and it’s the unrated version (more nudity for me!)…

Okay… here we go:

00:01:30  The dog’s name is Bono.  Like the lead singer of U2.  Once upon a time, he was just an Irish lead singer in a great band in the eighties.  Now…

00:02:36  John Cusack is in the house!!!  Literally, he just walked into his house.  One of the pioneers of eighties teen comedies.  This man has managed to still have a great career.  One of my all-time favorite actors.

00:04:47  Firebird Trans-Am!!!  One of the finest automobiles of the 1980s.  Introduced in the seventies by Smokey and the Bandit, the Trans-Am became an icon throughout the early to mid-eighties.  Not, my favorite, however.  That distinction would go to K.I.T.T. a year or two later.

00:05:01  Mötley Crüe’s “Home Sweet Home”!  One of the greatest ballads to come out of the eighties from a hair metal band.  I frikkin’ love this song.

00:10:43  Just realized… John Cusack always seems to play characters that get dumped.

00:12:45  Clark Duke just referenced Stanley Kubrick’s The Shining.  That movie scared the bejeezus out of me as a kid.

00:13:54  Crispin Glover!!  Marty McFly’s dad as a bellhop!  From one time travel movie to another.  Turns out, he was cast for this film for just that reason.  Well, one of the reasons.  And it appears he’s doing a variation of “Hey you, get your damn hands off her!”

00:17:15  The hot tub looks like it’s filled with Michelob, a popular beer in the eighties.

00:18:37  Ronald Reagan and George Bush Sr. masks.  Once upon a time in the eighties, that was our President and Vice, respectively.  Reaganomics!!  Remember when Patrick Swayze robbed banks wearing presidents’ masks in Point Break?

00:19:46  Ah, the ski resort.  A common backdrop in eighties comedies.  South Park did a great parody of that trope a couple of seasons ago.

00:20:12  Fluorescent colors!!!  Man, who thought that was acceptable to wear??

00:20:27  Another Crüe song – “Kick-Start My Heart”.  Crüe was king of the hair bands…

00:21:21  Enter the staple of all eighties coming-of-age comedies – the bully.  Two of them, in fact.  Usually in a position of authority, and usually full of douchebaggery.

00:21:31  Speaking of douchbags… “Hey, look – it’s the douchebag from Karate Kid III.”  What an awful film, sullying what were two great predecessors.

00:22:02  OMG – fur boots.  Run for your life.  We have finally captured and killed bigfoot, and made him into footwear.

00:22:08 Eighties overload in 3-2-1 (Contact)…

00:22:10  More bright colors!  And an eighties tune I hear playing in the background that I can’t remember the name of.  I fail.  Commentary over.

00:22:18  Acid-wash jeans.  I owned a couple of these… I’m afraid to admit.

00:22:21  Ah… those weird sunglasses that looked like open blinds…  Never had a pair.  Even I thought they looked stupid, and impractical.

00:22:29  Giant, portable phones.  Only the rich had them because the “plans” were so expensive.  The crappy spin-off That 80s Show tried to do this same gag.  It failed.

00:22:37  “I want my two dollars!”  A direct quote and homage to the aforementioned Better Off Dead, just as Cusack in onscreen.  Love it.  Great movie.  The original line comes from a paperboy who is… a tad overzealous about getting paid for his deliveries…

00:22:40  S-S-S-S, A-A-A-A, F-F-F-F, E-E-E-E, T-T-T-T, Y-Y-Y-Y… “The Safety Dance”!  Love this song.  Great eighties staple.

00:22:45  Jheri curl and smoking in public establishments.  Two tastes that go great together.  No, they don’t.

00:22:50  David Bowie does a promo bumper for MTV… “I want my MTV!”  So, do I, Jareth… So do I…

00:22:53  The Bill Cosby sweater…  The Cosby Show was actually pretty funny.  And a cigarette machine.  No carding required…

00:22:57  Too hot for the hot tub!!

00:22:59  Miami Vice – Popular cop show for its time… and a fashion trendsetter.  That’s partly where all the bright colors came from.  Thanks, Don Johnson.

00:23:03  Poison – another hair metal band from the eighties.  The debate was always which was better – them or Crüe.  I was always for Crüe.

00:23:07  Madonna on the cover of SPIN magazine… back when she was hot and I wanted her badly… In the background, a CHOOSE LIFE T-shirt, popularized by George Michael when he was in the band WHAM!  There are a lot of CAPITALIZED WORDS in this comment.

00:23:10  ALF!!!  (More capitalizations.)  I loved that show.  Was so pissed when NBC cancelled it right after a major cliffhanger.  It would not be the first or last time they did that crap.

00:23:15  Reagan again… trying to talk his way out of something…

00:23:19  Super Mario Bros.!!!!  One of the greatest arcade games of all time!  That was my joint!  Was one of the first hits to come out of the video game fallout of 1983…

00:23:20  The Cuban Missile Crisis… I think.  My history isn’t up to snuff.  I know, shame on me.

00:23:21  Cyndi Lauper.  Strange, fun, and sexy in her own way…  Love her music… and Pete Townshend during his solo days from The Who…

00:23:22  Col. Oliver North… had a shredding party… while Adam Ant sung about “Goody Two-Shoes”.

00:23:23  The old Apple II computers… everyone at school seemed to have one… but me.  I eventually got a Commodore 64.

00:23:24  Sony Walkman!  I had that exact color and model.  I’m actually glad we got out of the cassette era.

00:23:27  Nu Shooz – “I Can’t Wait”.  One of my favorite eighties songs of all time.

00:23:35  Legwarmers.  I actually never got the reason for these.

00:23:37  “Where’s the Beef?”  Classic slogan for Wendy’s.  That old lady was a hoot when she would spout that line.  She’s dead now.  (Ooh!  Too soon?)

00:23:41  Michael Jackson – before the charges, before the color change… he was just about the music.  I love “Thriller”.

00:24:10  Whew!  That was a a lot of stuff…

00:24:55  “Eddie Lives” T-shirt from Iron Maiden, Fishbone T-shirt… one of these bands I actually listened to.  And an old school tape recorder…  Ah, the stuff we would record on those things.

00:25:15  1986… I was eleven and in the sixth grade…

00:25:27  Timecop – not a bad Jean-Claude Van Damme flick.  Creative time travel ideas.

00:25:40  A mullet, a feathered hairstyle, and a hi-top fade walk into a bathroom…I wore two out of three of these.

00:26:27  Cocaine – the drug of the eighties.

00:27:20  The Terminator – James Cameron’s first admitted flick.  One of the best sci-fi/horror films out there.

00:28:03  Enter Chevy Chase.  He had a great career in the eighties… well, at first.  Luckily, this movie and the show Community have finally brought him back from obscurity.  Now, if only we could get Steve Martin and Eddie Murphy back, too.

00:31:06  AIDS.  ‘Nuff said.

00:32:48  “What You Need” by INXS.  I used to think it was pronounced The Ink-sez.

00:33:34  Wine coolers… the alcoholic beverage of the eighties.

00:35:49  “Modern Love” by David Bowie.  I liked some of his stuff, but really didn’t get into his music until much later.

00:36:56  Look at all the eighties cars…

00:37:04  Synthesizer!  I keep saying – we need to bring synthesizers back into music.

00:37:12  Keytar!  This goes double for the Keytar.

00:37:50  Jordans… a shoe that I never owned by a basketball star that I never watched play.

00:38:45  “Push It” by Salt n Pepa… not really my bag.

00:40:00  Denim skirts… those have actually come back.  I kind of like them on the ladies.

00:42:30  So much great music in this flick – “Obsession”, by Animotion.  Another one of my favorite songs from that decade.  I remember roller skating to that song.

00:44:03  “I Wanna Know What Love Is”, by Foreigner.  I love me some Foreigner…

00:48:48  Rocky IV, Rambo III, Red Dawn.  The testosterone in this room is overwhelming.

00:48:49  Yep.  People used to wear their polos with the collars up.  Embarrassing.

00:48:58  “Wolverines!!”

00:49:19  21 Jump Street.  I loved that show.  Aired on the fledgling Fox network and launched the career of Johnny Depp.

00:50:05  Break-up notes SUCKED.

00:51:11  More Crüe – “Keep Your Eye On the Money”.  I think Crüe is the main sponsor of this film.

00:51:23  Manimal.  Eighties show about a guy who could turn into animals.  I never liked it.  I loved Automan, about a guy created from the computer.

00:51:36  Denver vs. Cleveland.  I never watched sports as a kid.  Still don’t.  Sci-Fi/Fantasy all the way.  If it doesn’t have a plot, I’m not interested.

00:51:53  Cutting Crew – “I Just Died in Your Arms Tonight”.  I’ve always been a ballad man, and this is one of my favorites.

00:52:26  Break-up poetry.  I was a hopeless romantic in high school.  I wrote a lot if this stuff.  Still have some of it somewhere.  Man, is it awful.

00:54:51  “Let me ask you something McFly.”  From William F-ing Zabka, the guy who made a short-lived career out of playing douchebags in movies like The Karate Kid and Back to School God-bless his douchebaggery ways…

00:55:13  “Bring it on, Spader.”  That would be a reference to James Spader, another actor who played creepy characters in eighties flicks.

00:58:50  “True” by Spandau Ballet plays during a scene that’s a throwback to the final scene in Sixteen Candles with Molly Ringwald – the eighties’ go-to girl for a red head sweetheart.  Man, I hate the song “True”.

01:01:55  Ugh.  Tiger striped pants.  More horrors in eighties fashion.

01:03:29  The punk rock movement and shoulder pads for women’s clothing – two things that do not go together.

01:05:10  The permed, overdone hair the chicks are sporting is outrageous… and I still like it.

01:06:48  Butchering a George Michael song… not cool…

01:06:54  But, doing a Rick Springfield song right…  Too bad the other guy with the word “spring” in his name got the better career.

01:07:22  OOH!  I spy a Back to School poster!  How meta!  And a Last American Virgin poster – the most depressing teen comedy of the eighties.

01:08:06  Another riff on Back to the Future – Nick bringing the future of music to the youth of the past… works out better for him than for Marty.

01:11:06  Crimped hair.  Wow.

01:16:45  Mikhail Baryshnikov and Gregory Hines in a movie about ballet dancers… and effort to send a message about the Cold War… in a non-manly fashion.

01:30:23  Winding down with The Talking Heads’ “Once in a Lifetime”.  Same as it ever was.

01:32:45  And… in what is a complete departure from eighties time travel flicks – the characters don’t actually just face their issues and learn a valuable lesson while coming to grips with their situation, leaving it as it is.  No, these guys ACTUALLY DO THE COOL THING AND CHANGE THE FUTURE FOR THEIR OWN BENEFIT.  Oh, and learn a lesson, too.

01:33:21  And now, we end this long commentary with a slightly altered version of the music video from Crüe’s “Home Sweet Home”.  Love this song.

And that about wraps it up for this lengthy, final installment of “The Don Remembers”.  I actually managed to stretch an hour and forty-five minute movie to a three hour writing exercise, and I prolly missed a bunch of stuff.  Still, it was a blast.  My apologies for putting you all to sleep, and I’ll meet you all back here next week with a return to form for “The Office of the Don”!  Goodnight!

The Don is on his way… he’s on his wayeee…  Bed, sweet bed…

Greetings, Poopsmiths!!

We’re already over the halfway mark in August, which means this summer series is almost at an end (unless I hear voices erupt from the crickets out there to demand I keep this going in some form).  With that in mind, I wanted to make sure that I didn’t go out without talking about one of my favorite animation companies – Rankin/Bass.  These guys helped get me through my entire childhood.  And they managed to accomplish that feat in more than one style.

The double-surnamed animation company started back in 1964.  Their first attempt was a Christmas special for NBC about the famous red-nosed reindeer Rudolph.  Using an animation style that they would become most noted for over the next twenty years – stop-motion animation – Rudolph The Red-Nosed Reindeer became an instant holiday classic, and Christmas specials like this one would become Rankin/Bass’s bread and butter for the next two decades.

Over the course of those two decades, Rankin/Bass produced over thirty seasonal specials, covering other holidays as well as Christmas.  While most were in the stop-motion variety, they would occasionally throw in a traditional cel-animated special as well.  But no matter what the style, Rankin/Bass specials always pulled in some of the grade-A talent of the time for voice-over work, like Mickey Rooney, Fred Astaire, Burl Ives, and Andy Griffith.

As a young boy growing up, Christmas didn’t fully begin until the networks started showing Frosty the Snowman, Rudolph, or ‘Twas the Night Before Christmas.  Sure, Charlie Brown is probably considered the king of Christmas cartoon fare, but surely the R/B stuff was part of the royal court.  And in some ways, they’ve even surpassed the Blockheaded One – A Charlie Brown Christmas airs once, maybe twice on CBS every year.  Rankin/Bass specials?  They get twenty-five days devoted to them every year on ABC Family.  Who’s the blockhead now?

Oh, right.

Now, while most other animation companies would be content to cater to one specific niche where children are concerned, Rankin/Bass did the unthinkable.  In 1985, right around the time they produced their last Christmas special, the cartoon-makers with a forward slash in their name changed tactics and decided to aim towards the “impressionable ten to fifteen year olds who loved action/adventure and would pester their parents to buy them any toy featured in a cartoon” demographic.

And so, Thundercats was born.

I just so happened to be at the very beginning of that demographic at the time.  So guess what?  Yup – first thing I did when I came home from school each day was plaster myself to the living room floor to watch the adventures of a small group of anthropomorphic, feline humanoids try to survive on a futuristic earth after fleeing their doomed home world of Thundera.

Along with He-Man and Transformers, Thundercats completed the trifecta of animated action/adventure in my ten year old life.  Homework?  What homework?  Who had time for solving math equations, writing book reports, or figuring out why gravity pulled you down when the forces of good and evil were in constant struggle three times a day.

Did I say three times?  I meant four.

Because just when I thought my pre-pubescent life already had enough excitement to take the edge off of starting to discover girls, those geniuses running that cartoon company that sounded like a smelly fish had struck gold again.  Taking the exact same formula that made Thundercats such a huge hit, Rankin/Bass modified the ingredients – setting it primarily in space and making the humanoids birdlike instead – and gave it a similarly-structured moniker.

And so, Silverhawks was born.

Let’s be honest – it was a blatent rip-off of Thundercats.  Almost all of the voice cast from the first series was carried over to do voices for the new series.  The characters and situations they found themselves in were very similar to what came before.  And the big bad – Mon-starr, had a transformation sequence – with spell chant! – almost exactly like his Thundercat counterpart Mumm-Ra.

Of course, none of this mattered.  My pre-ADD-discovery brain latched onto this new offering with spirited glee.

It wouldn’t be long after Silverhawks debuted, however, that the house that Arthur and Jules built would start to run aground.  By the late eighties, this powerhouse of animation that had managed to persist like a juggernaut over the course of twenty years was finally starting to lose steam.  So, of course, the only solution was to triplicate the same exact formula that made them a hit twice before, only this time it was – gasp – underwater!  And once again, the name was just a smoosh-up of what animal they were combined with some other random word.  It was like they weren’t even trying anymore at this point.

And so, Tigersharks was crapped out of Satan’s rectum.

The sound that immediately followed was the death knell for Rankin/Bass.  Tigersharks, thanks mostly to the fact that no one ever really heard of the show, much less watched it, met a quick and painless death.  Sadly, Thundercats and Silverhawks followed suit right around the same time, and just like that – a wonderful animation company went the way of your favorite uncle who just happened to drink a little too much sometimes.

Despite their unfortunate demise those many years ago, Rankin/Bass is still around.  Revived at the beginning of the new millennium, they are currently owned by Warner Bros. – who do the company proud by making horrible sequels to their holiday classics.  In the meantime, at least we still get to see the fruits of studio lowercase today – between the aforementioned re-airing of all their Christmas specials on ABC Family to having the entire Thundercats series on DVD (and occasionally on Cartoon Network).  Even the first season of Silverhawks made it to DVD.  Unfortunately, it’s the only season out to date due to poor sales.  But, that can only mean good news:

At least Tigersharks will never see the light of day again.

The Don feels the magic, hears the roar… crap – it’s the other kind of cougar.

Greetings, Penguin Blackbelts!!

My schedule from this past weekend all the way to this coming weekend leaves me with little time to do much, so this week’s installment of the summer nostalgia series will be short and sweet, which is apropos considering that it’s about a candy product that I have vast amounts of love for.   And if the title of this week’s “Remembers” hasn’t already given it away, I’m talking about that glorious confection that put Reeses’s Peanut Butter Cups to shame – PB Max.

Created in 1990, PB Max took the whole “you got your chocolate in my peanut butter” to a whole new level.  Instead of a processed-looking filler of brown paste, this candy bar seemed to include the same stuff you would knife or spoon out of a jar.  Slap that on a whole-grain cookie, combine it with peanuts and oats, and then wrap it all up in chocolate seduction and you found yourself with a square-shaped slice of euphoria.  And these things weren’t small, either.  Despite being less rectangular than their competition, PB Max bars didn’t suffer for it in the size department.  As you can tell from the picture above, those things were quite big.  Now imagine that packed with the ingredients I mentioned above.  Now salivate.

I loved the hell out of these things when they were still available.  They were the reason that Snickers bars and I didn’t speak for a long time (don’t worry – we reconciled some time later).  I simply could not resist these little buggers.  If I was ever in a grocery or convenience store and my eyes caught sight of a PB Max, I would usually mow down whoever was in my way to grab a couple.

Unfortunately, this incredible concoction obviously created by a wizard saw a short shelf life.  Halfway into the nineties, PB Max bars disappeared forever.  The reason?  According to the book The Emperors of Chocolate: Inside the Secret World of Hershey and Mars, the Mars family hated peanut butter.

Seriously.

So, thanks to communism (because honestly, communism has to be at the root of every evil – right?), the Mars company succeeded in their nefarious scheme of halting production of a candy bar that would have made Gandhi give up his crusade just so he could sit and ponder the wonders of the universe that were obviously contained within its chocolate coating.  At the very least, it prevented us mere mortals the chance to enjoy a delicious treat that gives Reese’s a run for its money.

And I cry.  Every night.

Still, all hope is not lost.  If you have a friend – like I do – and he is ambitious enough to look at the commercial, as well as check Wikipedia for the ingredients – like mine did – then you just may find yourself living in a shotgun shack gifted with the blessing of homemade PB Maxes, which are literally the next best thing.

And to help you get started, here’s the commercial so you can bask in the warm love of the PB Max:

However, getting a friend is up to you.

The Don is a portly ballerina.

Greetings, Anawanna Campers!!

The fun and colorful eighties had already bore witness to several unique and awesome innovations by the time the decade started to wind down in preparation for the drab and angsty nineties.  By the time we reached the twilight years of the era famous for hair bands, half-hour long, animated commercials for toys, and the conclusion of the original Star Wars trilogy, another fantastic invention came into being – one that fit in perfectly with the polychromatic decade – thermal color changing!  And when it comes to cool, color changing items, there are two that immediately spring to mind:

Hypercolor T-shirts and Color Changer Hot Wheels!

Both creations came about during the mid to late eighties and functioned based on a simple, yet complex concept – when the item was at room temperature or cooler, it was one color.  But, when you applied heat or in some way increased the temperature of the item, it would change colors!

I seem to recall that the Hot Wheels vehicles were the first color changing products I owned growing up.  By that time I was in my early teens, and my Matchbox and Hot Wheels collecting had significantly waned and been replaced by my action figure collecting.  But these things were different.  After seeing the commercial for a toy car that changed its hue under cold or hot water, I knew I had to have one.  Once acquired, I spent quite a bit of time… not playing with them.  No, instead I got way too mesmerized by the pure sorcery on display as continuously ran them under an alternating warm and cold tap – an act that, out of context, may appear as though I was trying to pry spy secrets from their die-cast lips.  Of course, it wouldn’t be long before I either “broke” them, got bored with the fact that there actually wasn’t a little wizard in the paint schemes making the greens turn yellow and the purples turn red, or discovered something els– ooh, Real Ghostbusters action figures!!

Hypercolor T’s on the other hand… those things mattered for a little while longer.  See, as is the case with any new fashion trend based out of pop culture – you weren’t cool unless you owned one.  Of course, in my case I wasn’t even cool when I owned one.  Que sera sera, I guess.  All the way into the locker.  Sadly, I couldn’t see the color change while I was stuffed in there.

Aside from a revisit to the emotional scars of my youth, Hypercolor shirts were frikkin’ awesome!  Not as reliant on that life fluid that pours out of faucets, all you had to do was put your hand or another warm object on the fabric – and the outline of that object would remain for seconds in a different color on the shirt.  Of course, after the initial wave of awe over this mystical garment wore off, there was only one way teenaged owners of said shirts could put this innovation to any use.

If you said “Probably something obscene”, you would be correct.

It would not be out of the realm of possibility to see sixteen and seventeen year old girls running down the halls with light blue hand prints over their budding buxoms on their purple Hypercolor T-shirts.  Nor, would it be inconceivable to imagine some young dude getting on the school bus with an intentionally oversized Hypercolor top – just so that he could plant a couple of yellow hands on his otherwise green-clad derriere.  Yes, ladies and gentlemen – teen creativity at work.  And just think – those folks have become us, and we are now running the country.

Or writing silly nostalgic pieces for geek culture web sites.

The Don can change colors as well.  Just make him laugh while he’s scarfing down a bag of Doritos.

Greetings, Ghost Monsters!!

The 80s were an impressive decade as far as animation was concerned.  Television viewers were literally flooded with a wealth of animated programs of all shapes and sizes.  And practically anything that was on the pop culture radar got its own cartoon, from video games to sitcoms to musicians.  If you were a hot commodity, you would soon find yourself in two-dimensional, cel-shaded glory.

Animation was becoming more prominent in movie theaters as well.  Though the 70s showed that an occasional non-Disney cartoon could dip its toe in the theatrical realm, it wasn’t until the 80s that we would see it start to become much more mainstream.  From rock prodigy on display with Heavy Metal to after school favorites getting the feature film treatment like Transformers and G.I. Joe, cartoons were starting to gain a wider audience.

Speaking of theatrical releases, there is one animated movie that still stands out and resonates with me to this day – one that I am proud to own on DVD.  It’s not one of the more well-known titles to come out of the 80s, but I think it’s one of the best.  And with the recent news of a certain famous author’s memoirs finally being available to publish this year, I think remembering this film is more than apropos – The Adventures of Mark Twain.

This film opened in January 1986 to a very limited release (seven cities, to be exact).  It was directed by Will Vinton, who was best known for being the creator of Claymation (and within that art, The California Raisins).  Using the techniques he harnessed from honing his clay-playing craft, Vinton crafted an incredible clay-animated film that chronicled the final days of Mark Twain as he rides an airship to the stars in order to go out with the same comet he came in with.  Along the way, he acquires three stowaways – Tom Sawyer, Becky Thatcher, and Huck Finn.  As they make to their way to Twain’s final destination, the ex-Clemens regales the children with stories taken from his own writings, as well as imparting lessons to the three before he leaves the world for good.

What stands out most about this putty-crafted spectacle is how mature it is for an animated feature.  With a combination of humor and dark subject matter (dark enough to be widely banned), Mark Twain presents itself honestly, showing both sides of the author’s conflicted psyche.  Through a series of vignettes framed by an overarching storyline, we get to see the humor that Twain saw in things, as well as the demons he bore witness to during his depression.  Mark Twain is a very deep film, exploring and celebrating one of America’s best authors by offering a fresh and creative manner for sharing his works, as well as offering a glimpse into his soul.

Despite the controversy the movie sports, I was fortunate enough to be able to see this in theaters.  Already in the process of learning about Twain in our sixth grade Gifted class, our instructor was able to take us on a field trip to our local theater to see this wonderful film.  How our little town was able to procure a print of the movie when it was very limited in its release, I haven’t a clue.  All I do remember is that some deal was worked out and a representative for the film actually came out as well to answer any questions we had.  I remember watching the movie afterwards and enjoying every minute of it.

It would be a long time before I would even get to see this film again, but it never fully left my mind.  The imagery and substance on display continued to resonate with me long after.  Then, in January of 2006 (just in time for its twentieth anniversary!), the movie was finally released to DVD.  I snatched it up immediately and watched it in the hopes that it still held up in comparison to what I remembered.

Sure enough, The Adventures of Mark Twain is every bit as moving and profound as I remember.  I still find myself laughing during the truly funny moments, and I still find myself deeply affected by the dark and creepy moments.  A shining tribute to a great author as well as a highlight in the art of Claymation, this movie still succeeds at resonating with me.

And now, I leave you with the truly disturbing scene that caused its ban, yet still manages to communicate an incredible wealth of intellectual depth:

The Don is but a thought.

Greetings, Boglins!

I have to admit that I’m a wee bit off this week.  I feel a little disjointed, so to that end my thoughts are kind of a jumble.  I have ideas, but not enough to flesh them out to carry full articles on their own.

But never fear, my fellow Spwugnerians!  I can actually make this work for me.  In fact, it allows me to do the kind of articles I’ve found myself rather enjoying as of late.  So I bring you another installment of random bits that I affectionately refer to this week as “Bleeps, Sweeps, and Creeps”:

Iron Man 2

Got to see this over the weekend with DKM Marlink and a few other friends.  First, we watched the first film at my house, all the while making snide remarks about how Terrence Howard was going to be replaced later that evening when we got to the theater.  First film still holds up remarkably well.  It has to be one of my favorites, despite the weak third act.  As for the sequel?  Wow.  More of the same, and I mean that in a good way.  Downey Jr. proves once again that the talent is actually his and not from the drugs he lived in for years.  Cheadle was a great substitute for Howard in the role of James Rhodes.  Just a fun flick all over.  My only complaints were that the middle started to feel like it was plodding along (same complaint I had for The Dark Knight).  Plus, Mickey Rourke’s character kinda shows up in a blazing show-down, then takes a back seat for most of the film until the end.  Despite both flaws, the movie got back on its feet by the third act, which was a vast improvement over the first film.  Those who haven’t seen it – stay until after the end credits.  Just like Nick Fury’s spoiled surprise cameo at the end of the first Iron Man, there’s a cool little surprise at the end of this one (SPOILER ALERT: It’s Batroc the Leaper!*)

Farscape

I picked up the complete box set to the hit Sci-Fi (not SyFy) series Farscape about a month ago, and I’ve been pouring myself into it furiously.  I’m almost finished with the first season, and I’m impressed with just how well this show still holds up.  There’s definitely a reason why it was my favorite TV show during its run.  I’m falling in love with these characters all over again (I plan to ask them to marry me next week).  One of the things I like so much about the show is how much it captures the essence of what made the original Star Trek so great – a perfect mixture of straight-up action with episodes of weird crap happening to our main cast with a dash of some light sexiness.  Best feature on the DVD set so far?  Commentary by the creators and the two main cast members on an episode where they spend the entire running time explaining just why the episode is so abysmal.

Super Mario Bros. Galaxy 2

It’s almost here!  Are you ready?  Did you play the first one?  Weren’t the frikkin’ purple coin challenges hard?  How long has it been since you last played the first one?  Do you even remember whether or not you own a Wii?

Corkscrewed Over

Busch Gardens in Virginia, also known as Busch Gardens Europe, also known as The Belgians Were Bored With Just Being Known For Waffles So They Bought the Largest Brewery in America and This Park Got Thrown In For Free, also known as The Park That Had a Really Cool 3-D Ride in Ireland When Not Compared to Anything in Florida but Decided to Ditch it For a Non-3-D Borefest That Could Double as an Extended Promo for British Airways.

That’s a Reynolds Wrap!

Burt Reynolds has been cast as an ex-spy in the incredibly awesome TV series Burn Notice.  My greatest hope is that his cover name is Turd Fergeson.  And he wears a big cowboy hat.  ‘Cuz it’s funny.

Speaking of wrapping up…

The Don’s RADAR appears to be jammed.  Halle Berry.

*It’s totally not Batroc the Leaper!

Greetings, Shadow Warriors!

There’s an old saying where I come from, and it goes something like this:

“If you can’t come up with a Spwug article for the week, just make something up.”

How anyone in my home town even knew there would ever be a web site called Spwug some day in the future is a riddle that we may never solve (radiation spill).  Be that as it may, today it just happens to be good advice.  I’m having a frazzleweek (not to be confused with a Fraggle Rock) this week, and it’s making it tough to come up with anything substantial to offer.  So instead, I once again break out the odds and ends that I have come across over the past couple of days, plop them all into a stew pot, add some seasonings, stir, and serve it to you with some blue milk, courtesy of the charred corpse of Aunt Beru.

What?  It’s not like the Lars family was going to be drinking it anymore.  It was just sitting there on the table.

Megaman 10 is out.  Rockman continues to cry at the injustice.

For those of us still clinging to the nostalgia of our 80s roots (and who really isn’t these days?) and were feeling a little like we got repeatedly crotch-punched by the last fanboy-pleasing offering, Capcom once again gives us the retro-NES-looking goodness of Megaman 10.  While the last installment offered Proto as DLC, this time he comes ready-to-play, with Bass being the DLC character this time around.  All of the graphic and gameplay charm of 9 returns, but this time you can save yourself a cranial bruising from beating your head against the wall – Megaman 10 includes an “easy mode”.  Meanwhile, the Japanese continue to laugh at us while they exist in their superior universe.

Final Fantasy XIII also came out this week.  World buckles at the contradiction.

I stopped playing this series a long time ago (in a galaxy far, far away…), sometime after X or XI or XVIC or whatever that one was with the different characters (stupid Roman numerals).  I’ve read that there have been a few changes, one of which is that the battle system is set up similar to Advent Children.  I’ve heard mixed feedback.  A few of my friends seem to enjoy it, while a few others do not.  And still a few other others are still wondering how there are thirteen of them when it’s the “Final Fantasy” (and even more when you count the spin-offs).  I still maintain that three six is the best one Square has ever done, and they will never be able to top just how well that game is.

The new Tron Legacy trailer is online.

Some of you may be a wee bit too young to remember the movie that put CG animation on the map and laid the groundwork for what Spielberg, Cameron, and Pixar are doing today in film.  Tron didn’t pull in a very large box office when it opened back in 1982, but it has since gained a cult following – enough of one that Disney finally greenlit a sequel last year.  Jumping on the viral marketing bandwagon, Disney has kept the details scarce on this new movie, but has made discovering the details rather fun and exciting.  Most recently, people around the world had the opportunity to go on hide-and-seek missions to find an individual wearing a “Flynn Lives” t-shirt in several major cities around the globe.  The reward?  Exclusive swag, and the ability to unlock an online page that featured dates and locations for a “secret” showing of the new trailer for Tron Legacy.  For those who could stand to wait a few extra days, the trailer went online for everyone this week.  And it is badass.

Speaking of movie trailers…

I’ve got two words for you: “briefcase armor”:

One of these things is not like the other…

Word has it that John Krasinski has landed the role of Captain America for the new Marvel film.  You may know him from the American version of “The Office”.  The rest of you may know him as the guy completely wrong for the part.

And that concludes this broadcast day!  I know I said before that I would be making stuff up, but I decided not to… or, at least not entirely.  One of the things I mentioned above is not at all true (or is close to the truth but not true).  Can you figure out which one?  Ooohh!  Puzzles!  I’m guessing that this one won’t be enough of a challenge to keep you busy until next Thursday, will it?

Probably not.

There’s nothing special about The Don.  He’s just an ordinary program.

Greetings, Madballs!

Holy crap.

I’m sure those of you who own one of the “fat” PS3 systems (like me) became quite acquainted with the issue that occurred last Sunday on the right and straight on ‘til Monday.

In short, the non-slim PS3s all took a huge dump.

In a major snafu that most-assuredly gave Xbox 360 owners plenty of ammo in the “Which system is better?” war, a simple glitch with the internal clock ended up wreaking havoc for about twenty-four hours.  For some weird reason, the older PS3 models tried (unsuccessfully, I might add) to turn over from February 28^th to February 29^th, 2010 on Sunday night.  Of course, the system that only does everything (including ride the short bus) did not get the memo that 2010 is not, in fact, a leap year.  The side effect of that?  February still remains short-stacked against her fuller siblings (I’ve always thought of February as a woman – she sure flirts like one).

So, when that internal clock rolled over to the obviously illegal date, those “fat” PS3s immediately wet the bed, making online connection impossible.  Also affected?  Trophy data was either corrupted or non-existent and almost all PS3 games were completely non-playable.

Sony’s response was amusing, yet horrifying at the same time – “Stay off your PS3!”  Sounding like an septuagenarian who just confiscated your Frisbee (do people even play with Frisbees anymore?), the company that uses the same font for Playstation and the Spider-Man movies admitted that they were at a loss, but that the problem was bad enough to warrant treating your system like a red-headed step child (what a sad moniker – I happen to like gingers).

So, like the stalwart troopers that they are, Sony set their tech experts (who obviously have no concept of the Gregorian calendar or this wouldn’t have happened in the first place) to task to find and fix the problem.  Meanwhile, Xbox folks were laughing at our misfortunes right up to the moment when their 360s got their fifth or sixth “Red Ring of Death”, at which point they swore profusely and immediately throw themselves onto some jagged rocks.

At the same time, I was going through a steady decline as withdrawals started to kick in.  It wasn’t noticeable Sunday night, as the problem didn’t occur until after I had already signed off for the evening.  But by the time I got home from work Monday afternoon?  Well, let’s just say that I never realized just how much I use my PS3 until I found out the hard way that about two-thirds of my couch time in the living room requires the use of the third generation Playstation.  I couldn’t play any video games.  I couldn’t watch any movies.  Every time my instincts automatically queued up my arms to reach for the power button on my system I had to stop myself.  In the end, I was forced to “channel surf” – a past time that I’m pretty sure became obsolete right around the same time that Frisbees stopped being something cool that you did in parks and backyards.

Fortunately for me, the Winter Olympics were just over enough to return one of my 8 PM viewing staples to its proper time slot.  After watching the show I bought a Subway sandwich to keep on the air, “Chuck” returned the favor and kept me distracted long enough for Sony to figure out how time is actually kept track of in modern society.  By 9 PM I hesitantly fired up ol’ Bessie based on some positive rumblings I had read in one of the forums I frequent.  Sure enough, my sleek-black beauty was fine and dandy.  She was a little disoriented, still thinking that it was Sunday, February 28^th, but after a gentle correction I was able to play Fallout 3 with only my usual operational glitches and irritations.  All was now right in the world once again.

At least, until all game systems everywhere instantly self destruct while trying to reconcile December 21^st, 2012.

The Don survived the PS3 Blackout of February 29^th, 2010.  He didn’t even get a lousy T-shirt.

Greetings, Toxic Avengers!!

Valentine’s Day is coming up.  So, in honor of this day of hearts and cupids I should probably do some kind of article commemorating fatal romances in movies, dictating the top love triangles in comics, or listing the love ballads everyone says they hate but secretly love.

I’m not gonna do any of that.

Instead, I’m going to veer completely around that holiday of pinks and purples and make a beeline straight for the twenty-four hours (almost) everyone in the U.S. will be observing (theoretically) the day after: Presidents’ Day.

For my contribution to the day in which we acknowledge the efforts of our leading forefathers, I turn to a medium that – in this day and age – can almost be considered as American as baseball and apple pie.

Comic books.

Presidents have been portrayed in comic books almost as far back as the beginning.  From George Washington penning for an (extremely) early version of The Daily Planet to last year’s run of Obama appearances, every age of comics through the years has had a commander-in-chief show up at some point.  In some cases, especially during times of war, having the president appear in a comic book was a way to rally the morale of Americans, as well as to add some weight to a particular hero’s efforts.  If FDR was responsible for helping Captain America obtain the shield he’s known for today, it must be just and right.

But as much as comic creators like to herald our national leaders, they also sometimes throw our presidents into comics to serve in a satirical sense.  The result is that often our leaders are portrayed in a negative light.  The reason for this is simple: comics, like any other entertainment medium, are just as often used to deliver a message as well as entertain.  It is not uncommon for comic book writers to infuse their own views on politics, society, and pop culture into their stories.  Richard Nixon tends to be a perfect example of this, as you’ll see shortly.

So, here are a few of the more notable moments in comic book history when our nation’s presidents made an appearance, for good or for ill:

Richard Nixon: Watchmen

Might as well start with what is most likely the most well-known appearance of a U.S. president in comics history.  Unfortunately for ol’ Tricky Dick, his role in the award-winning series only expounded upon the less-than-stellar reputation he was forever stuck with after his resignation in the shadow of the Watergate scandal.  In Watchmen, Alan Moore creates an alternate 1985 where Nixon is still president, using him as a tool to portray a country that thinks it is invulnerable.  Moore’s take on how Nixon would eventually lead the country to nuclear war was his commentary against “power politics” and “Reaganism”, a statement that continues to resonate with anyone who picks up this powerful graphic novel.

Franklin Delano Roosevelt: Captain America

FDR appears to have been quite the busy guy in comic books… retroactively.  While not part of the original canon of these books, over the years FDR was retconned into playing a major role in a number of major comic book moments.  Not only did he play a major part in the creation of the Justice Society of America and the All-Star Squadron over at DC, in Marvel’s Captain America issue 255 he makes a cameo appearance to present Cap with his current, iconic shield.

Ronald Reagan: The Dark Knight Returns

Another negative portrayal of a U.S. leader, this time from the pen of Frank Miller.  Miller’s tale also takes place in an alternate reality.  This time, a much older Batman comes out of retirement to reclaim Gotham from being overrun with crime.  Coming out right around the same time as Watchmen, Miller wasn’t afraid to take the founder of “Reaganomics” head on (unlike Moore), portraying him as a slippery-tongued oaf who had only his own best interests at heart.

Ronald Reagan: Legends

Reagan again, only this time, the actor-turned-president was portrayed in a more sympathetic manner.  A semi-successful mini-series that told the story of a Darkseid operative turning the American public against superheroes, Legends featured a Reagan who was a little more reasonable in his decision-making.  Though he initially had to reluctantly issue an order to restrict superhero activity, The Gipper immediately rescinded that edict after the Martian Manhunter saved his life from an assassination attempt.

John F. Kennedy: Action Comics

Kennedy’s appearance in Action Comics issue 309 is distinctive for a couple of reasons – not only does play a major role in the story by teaming up with Superman, he also ends up being one of the few people the Man of Steel trusts with his secret identity.  Sadly, the timing of this issue couldn’t have been worse, though it is part of the reason why this appearance is so notable – Action Comics 309 came out a week after JFK’s assassination in Texas.

Now, before I get comments and e-mails about the bajillion examples I missed, keep in mind that I couldn’t list every single instance of one of our leaders making an appearance in a comic book.  After all of my research, these were the ones that kept popping up the most.  And, for the most part, I think they serve as worthy representatives of a comic book tradition that really shows no signs of letting up for as long as we have presidents in these United States.  And I’m sure that we’ll continue to see them portrayed both sincerely, as well as satirically.

Or we could just get Lex Luthor as president again.

The Don doesn’t get sworn in.  He gets sworn at.

So I hear there was a sacred ritual in America this weekend. Supposedly it consisted of humans gathering in big groups with large amounts of fried food and chips, watching sweaty, muscled meatsacks ripping the flesh from a large hog, then tossing the resulting oblong wad back and forth. It is supposed to confirm masculinity, and geeks like me (particularly rather NON-masculine geeks like me) are generally not welcome at such events. Somehow, though, I found myself attending one this past Sunday, partly to satisfy my morbid curiosity.

You’d think, having lived here all my life, that I’d be more familiar with this religious ceremony. Instead, I spent the evening staring at the proceedings with a kind of horrified fascination.

I’d been invited by friends. These are people I see on a fairly regular basis. We’ve known one another for years. I know their hobbies, their likes, dislikes, their dreams, their fears…but I did not recognize the people I sat with during this game of feet and balls as the friends I’ve known so long and well.

“We’re having the party more to watch the commercials than the game. Most of us aren’t big football fans,” they said. So I attended expecting food, camaraderie, and boisterous conversation. What I got?

Oh, there was food. Plates piled high with offerings to the gods of feet and balls–chips, barbeque wieners, pretzels, sodas. But the camaraderie and boisterous conversation? I began to worry I’d stepped into a cult gathering. There was no punch bowl, luckily. When the “game” started, my lively, entertaining friends became fixated on the TV, jaws hanging open, possibly with little streams of drool running out. I don’t know. I kept my distance. When they spoke, it was to yell obscenities at the screen. Anyone making a comment unrelated to the happenings on the television was largely ignored.

I avoided looking at the screen which had turned my friends into grunting shells of humans. Something wasn’t right here.

Then the twisted ritual of men dogpiling onto each other and patting each other on the buttocks (”But we’re not gay, no, even though we grope each other and shower together and sleep together and live together on the road, why won’t you BELIEVE us?!”) was interrupted by advertisements for OTHER arcane, evil rituals. That was when things got really scary.

As soon as the ads started, my once-friendly comrades started angrily shushing the few brave souls who’d tried to engage in the “boisterous conversation” I’d come to this party specifically to experience. The vehemence made no sense to me; the DVR was recording the game. If you missed a few seconds, couldn’t you just pause during the brief conversations and then rewind so everyone who wanted to could see? (And they did rewind for particularly amusing ads people wanted to see again. Frequently.) I had been pretty quiet since the game began, unsettled by the rapt attention my pals were giving the talky box and not to one another. I made a silent note not to speak for the rest of the evening, fearing for my safety.

And what was happening on the screen wasn’t holding my attention at all. Even the famous “Super Bowl ads” were more annoying than entertaining–and what was up with the steady theme of emasculation in them this year, anyways? Maybe I was immune to the spell that hypnotized the rest of the room. I wasn’t going to give it a chance to seize me, either. About forty-five minutes into the satanic ritual, I quietly snuck my roomie’s PSP out of my bag, found a mercifully open outlet for the adapter, and began to play the Second Quest of The Legend of Zelda. (If the PSP serves any use beyond playing old Nintendo-console games, I haven’t found it.)

The ceremony continued. The angry comments at the screen continued. The impolite shushing of conversation for Commercial Time continued. After an hour or two, someone remarked that I must be bored because I wasn’t watching the game. I froze, taking a hit from an Ironknuckle in the process. Caught! I wondered if I would leave this place whole, or even alive. I quickly mumbled some lie about pausing the game to watch the ads, and this seemed to satisfy the others. Or maybe they were so deep under the TV’s spell that they couldn’t bear to look away for long. Either way, they left me alone then. I gave a discreet sigh and continued playing, only mildly annoyed that I now had to go looking for Hearts to get my sword-laser back.

And so it went. When my friends weren’t shouting vulgarities at the screen, they were hissing venom at each other for commercials. I finished one dungeon, then a second, and began looking for the White Sword and the Blue Ring.

Then several people behind the couch began having a conversation during the game. Was the spell breaking? One of them asked me a question while the others kept talking. Cautiously, I started to answer–unfortunately, just as commercials started. “SHHHHHHHHH! Shut up! Commercials!” someone at the far end of the room hissed rather pissily. I wasn’t sure if they were talking to the others, who were sitting right next to him, or to me across the room.

But I was getting pretty angry myself. I had had enough of this satanic event turning my friends into angry d-bags, when I’d come for a party. And if they were talking to me, who was that, to tell a supposed friend to shut up when they’re trying to be polite and answer a question? I shot an obscene phrase at him under my breath just in case he was addressing me, something I won’t repeat here, but which rhymed with “Ducking dock writer.” Luckily for my life and limb, everyone else had been enraptured by the TV again and didn’t hear. I muttered angrily, and started to go back to my much more important NES game–only to realize that I had just been as ferocious as everyone around me. Cold fear stabbed through me. Was the TV’s spell reaching out to me as well now?

There was only one way to resist–I buried myself in the magical Land of Hyrule and didn’t look up for the rest of the evening. By the time I had finished the third dungeon and acquired several hidden items in the Overworld, the evil game on TV was over, and I was safe. I cheered along with the others, but for different reasons.

And now the spell was broken. My friends were acting like friends again!–for the five minutes it took them to gather their coats and leftover food and exit out the door. Ah, well. At least they were all safe and whole again, and perhaps more amazingly, *I* was safe and whole.

I was happy. I said my goodnights and goodbyes and hurried out to the car. Once inside, I realized I had finally, truly escaped the wicked spell of the Super Bowl…until next year, that is. I would have to prepare intensely between now and then in order to better resist Super Bowl 2011’s occult charms.

I don’t know if I’ll be strong enough. 2011 may be the end of me.

At least I finished three dungeons in Zelda.

(P.S. This was a work of humourous fiction. The party and people in this post should not be mistaken for the party and people that I actually rocked out at/with. But writing an epic tale of struggle and betrayal and redemption is far more interesting than writing “I went to a Bowl party, it was fun, Betty White is hardcore, we ate too much, I played Zelda, and then we all went home!”)