Tickle Me

Jan. 12th, 2009 01:13 pm
collisionwork: (sleep)
Hello Monday.

And here I am, fighting off a cold or something (my throat has surrendered and my nose is fighting valiantly but looks to be losing), trying to write a grant application I have to finish today, and doing a not-very-good job of it. And the apartment is drafty and though it seems bright outside I'm just getting dim gray light. And the bits of me that I've been seeing doctors about recently are not exactly hurting, but ARE causing an annoying, constant discomfort (nothing hideous or terminal, I assure you, just chronic, unending discomfort-occasionally-jumping-into-pain -- it appears I almost certainly have tarsal tunnel syndrome in my right foot, and there's other things I won't go into).

So I'm cold and achy and cranky and looking for laughs and some kind of relaxing comfort.

This makes me laugh. More so if I just play it over and over and over and over . . .


And this foreign ad for Swedish Fish - part of their "a friend you can eat" (?) campaign - charms because it has a kitten mewing in it, and I'm a sucker for that . . .


And to relax and go all Zen, I can stare into the endlessly deep expression on the face of The King as he seems to make a request of his 50,000,000 fans (who can't be wrong) on this 45rpm single sleeve:
Tickle Me Elvis

When I first looked at the above, I thought he looked forlorn, like he could use a good tickle (and how about a "Tickle Me Elvis" doll anyway? I'm sure it could produce some damned fine sounds). But the more I look in that kisser, the more I see a sly confidence. Even arrogance. "Go on, just TRY and tickle The King! See if you can!"

On the better side of the day, while the grant application has become impossible (time to throw it in and be better organized for this grant next year), bits of Spacemen from Space, which has been slow in coming to the Writer part of my brain, suddenly appeared today and I was able to jot some productive bits of that down. They weren't massive CONTENT parts, but they were major STRUCTURAL/TONAL elements which are exactly what I need right now -- once I lick the structure and tone, it's almost by-the-numbers.

The structure is a glass form that I need to know the shape of, and then I can blow it into that form. The tone is the kind of liquid I'm going to pour into that glass form once it's blown. I'm pretty clear now on the form, and I know the kind of liquid. Now I just need to brew those liquid contents.

The best cure I ever had for a cold like this involved incredibly hot and spicy Indian food and a gigantic glass of Jameson's whisky, neat. I don't have either of those handy, but I may attempt an alternate to that Indian/Irish cure today by going with a Chinese/Czech one and eating a large bowl of leftover spicy beef and onions (adding additional hot sauce and mustard) and drinking as much Becharovka as I can stomach (I have a full, unopened bottle in the freezer). If it doesn't cure this cold, it may make me stronger, or at least keep me in the state-of-mind to keep writing the fever-dream-like Spacemen from Space . . .

collisionwork: (Big Gun)
Oh, yeah, there's stuff to share. A grab-bag. Lemme get rid of these things that are clogging up my blog reader, just sitting there, saved, mocking me, MOCKING me, I tell you . . .

(can you tell that I'm bored and nothing is coming to me as yet on the scripts I should be writing?)

First, I just saw on the TV that there's a National Geographic special coming up on the recently-unearthed scrapbooks of Karl Hoecker, adjutant to the commandant of Auschwitz - an amazing look into the heart of "the banality of evil." The New Yorker had an excellent article on the subject, which isn't online but there's an abstract HERE and a gallery of images from the scrapbook HERE.

This is certainly a fine, honorable, and serious subject for a TV special. It is, in some ways, nothing new (I've spent a lot of time and much of my work on the subject of how normal people do evil things), but more examples never hurt in getting this important idea across, which so many people try to ignore or reject.

However.

They have chosen one of the most unfortunate, badly-pitched titles for such a piece that I think they possibly could. I understand why they went with this title - the sentiment is appropriate - but I don't think they quite perceived how this would sound or read - I found out about this by hearing an announcer stentoriously read it at the end of a commercial and I cracked up, mistakenly thinking I had Comedy Central on or something and it was a joke - and right as I typed that sentence, they played the spot again and I broke up again.

See, they've titled the show:

NAZI SCRAPBOOKS FROM HELL

Again, I understand the title, but the effect of the combo of the words "Nazi" and "scrapbooks" (about as sweet and Norman Rockwell a word as I can think of) and the construction "FROM HELL" (for at least two decades now an appendage used on the end of innocent phrases in a parody of exploitation film hyperbole) is just NOT what the makers of the special were going for, I would imagine.

See, just then, right as I typed that last period, they ran the commercial AGAIN on the TV next to me, and I was all taken in and abashed and moved again until the title was read so, SO seriously, and then I lost my shit again. It doesn't get old, hearing one of "those voices" use the (sensitive, serious, sad) tone you do when you are, say, doing a promo for a Holocaust documentary and winding up with a title more appropriate for a Roger Corman film.

I get two images in my head - one is a cartoony image of some kind of Jim Henson's National Socialist Babies, with 'Lil Adolf 'n' Eva and Baby Goebbels and Goering and Himmler (with their faithful dog, Blondi) playing together and fighting over the glue sticks, crayons, rubber cement and sparkles as they make their scrapbooks of unbelievable monstrosities.

The other image is of sentient monster scrapbooks, dripping blood and ichor like in some EC comic book, wearing swastika armbands and wandering a suburban landscape, wreaking horror and havoc.

Maybe it's just me.

And speaking of "those voices," here's a video created for a Vegas industry gathering that features the unfamiliar faces of several of the most familiar voices in the USA:

IN A WORLD . . . )



Some links of interest:

io9 has a nice post about the 1970s toys The Micronauts, which I had and loved (I got a giant, almost complete set for Xmas of 1976) which led me to two other Micronauts sites that brought back great memories, MicroHeritage and The Micronauts Homepage.

These toys were the BEST - great figures, vehicles, and playsets - loads of fun - with lots of moving parts, including neat plastic missiles that really fired with some power. Unfortunately, some dumb kid shot one of those cool cool supercool missiles into his throat and choked, and wound up spoiling toys for all of us for years after, which weren't allowed to have neat shooting missiles like that anymore. Actually, I think they were still able to have them, but they had to make them bigger with foam tips, and then some stupider kid choked on one of THOSE from an original Battlestar Galactica Viper toy (very cool, but I never had one), and that was IT for neat shooting stuff. Jeez, we used to throw Jarts around each other and get set on fire by Estes model rocket engines, and it was FUN!

Stupid clumsy kids . . .

From PingMag, "The Tokyo-Based Magazine About 'Design and Making Things'," an interview with and great set of photos by Frederic Chaubin of Soviet architecture of the 70s and 80s - some amazing buildings here, like sets from SF movies.

From Neatorama, "Mathematician Michael S. Schneider saw a wave form of the well-known drum sequence known as the Amen Break. It’s a drum 5.2 second sequence performed by Gregory Cylvester Coleman of The Winstons and has been sampled and used by countless artists since it was recorded in the 60s. Schneider, seeing the waveform through the eyes of a math professor, recognized a pattern, a relationship called the Golden Ratio. So he began to analyze the drum sequence and its deeper meaning."

Here's two found images I grabbed recently from other websites that collect "neat stuff," but I forgot to put down what sites those were. Oh, well.

Tyler Cannon pulled off quite a feat. Nice job, kid.
Nice Job, Kid

And please remember to bow down before The Lizard King:
Bow Down Before the Lizard King

From LP Cover Lover, a jacket that suggests that the best way to demonstrate high fidelity is by recording a deranged bikini-clad model talking to her hand puppet:
Cook's Tour of High Fidelity

(and the sidebar . . . "Hunting thru Audioland with Gin and Chimera"? Wha?)

Dear god I WISH they would stop running that NAZI SCRAPBOOKS FROM HELL commercial every ten minutes or less on this channel - I guess the National Geographic channel (or, as they annoyingly call it in some promos, NatGeo - ugh) doesn't have a lot of sponsors, and there isn't anything else interesting on right now besides this (fascinating) show on a murderous chimpanzee.

Nice description of a movie from the onscreen channel guide for the Cable TV here, for Curse of the Fly (1965): "A mad scientist tries out a molecular disintegrator on people but cannot get the hang of it." Yeah, that can be a pain.

Here's a wonderfully classic sexist Folgers Instant Coffee ad:

Sometimes a candle ISN'T Just a Candle . . . )



Paul Anka smells like teen spirit . . .

A mul-LAT-to! An al-BI-no! A mos-QUIT-o! My lib-I-to! )



And if you haven't seen this one, which has been making the rounds, it's quite worth it . . .

CHARLIE ROSE by Samuel Beckett )



And I hope the weather is as beautiful where you are as it is here.

And pretty much everywhere, it's gonna be hot! )



Enjoy.

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