Recently in Videocracy Category

So Tom Scharpling directed a video for the New Pornographers for their song "Moves," and it is jam-packed with so much awesomeness, I think the sheer weight of it might affect the earth's axis. See?



I don't even know where to begin. Todd Barry as a harried Other Music employee. Ted Leo in drag. Jon Wurster inhabiting the role of "A.C. Newman". Mike Lisk (aka @APMike) turning in a truly deranged performance (though I'm not sure how much of it was performing and how much was Mike being Mike). "Independent Spirit Award winner" Kevin Corrigan, looking very Kevin Corrigan-y. Horatio Sanz, Julie Klausner, Wyatt Cenac...hold on, let me catch my breath...

Plus cameos from many other comedy and musical giants, and enough Best Show-related easter eggs to delight sharp-eyed completists (like me).

Oh, and it starts with a trailer for a fake movie starring Paul Rudd and Bill Hader (Expectant Dads). If you want more than this video can give you, you must eat diamonds for breakfast, pal.

The results of my first Internet Gauntlet throwing remain inconclusive. However, I still feel confident hurling another one. Because that's what leaders do, they charge right ahead, regardless of results or consequences.

Around Thanksgiving, a young man's fancy turns to thoughts of gravy. And when I think of gravy, I inevitably think of an ad that aired during my childhood. This commercial always cracked up both of my grandparents, possibly because it featured an elderly couple who (barely) resembled themselves.

The ad in question was for Heinz Homestyle Gravy. The narrator regaled the aforementioned couple with all of the preparation and care that went into the making of their product, insisting it was just as good as gravy you could make in your own kitchen. With each point the narrator made, the wife responded, "Oh really?" At the very end of the ad, when the narrator insists it's exactly the same as homemade, the husband quips, "Oh yeah? Where are the lumps?" As he chuckles, the wife shoots him a withering look, and he croaks out a sheepish, "oh no..." realizing he is now in the doghouse.

There are versions of this ad on the internets. Here's the most common example:



But I declare this version the most ripe of shit from bulls. This is not the original ad. How do I know? Because the original was longer, for one thing; this video is 15 seconds long, and I'm sure the original was a standard 30 second spot.

Secondly, I distinctly remember one key aspect of the joke at the end, something that made it so funny. In the original version, the husband still has a smile on his face, and is looking right at his wife, when he says "oh no..." That made it much funnier than this redux version, where the husband mugs, double-takes, and speaks right into the camera. The earlier version had subtlety. Don't try to pass off this Velveeta as fine cheddar, Heinz.

So the Internet Gauntlet I am now throwing: Somebody find me the original, 30-second version of this ad. I know it's lurking out there somewhere. You have the power to bring this to light! You are the people we've been waiting for!

As a kid, the highlight and lowlight of every holiday season for me was the Macy's Thanksgiving Day Parade. It was the highlight because, duh, huge balloons. It was the lowlight because, even to a child, it had some truly cringe-tacular moments.

For some strange reason, the Macy's Thanksgiving Day Parade has always (or at least always in my lifetime) simultaneously tried to appeal to both kids and Broadway aficionados. Why did they try to do this? I don't know, because Times Square is sort of close to Herald Square? Makes as much sense as any other explanation.

They also tried to shoehorn various celebrities into the festivities. Some were established, or at least recognizable. Some were clearly being foisted on the show by some agent hoping to establish a client. (If a singer was "performing" his/her "smash hit single", it was a virtual guaranteed said single hadn't even been pressed yet.)

Regardless of their status, said celebrity would probably be inserted into some sort of float or setpiece in which their presence was superfluous at best. And often asked to sing, even if (often especially if) they were not known as a singer. ("Here to perform a medley from Damn Yankees, please welcome Abe Vigoda!")

This was extremely frustrating to a little kid. When you'd see the opening credits for the Parade and see something you loved teased as coming up soon, naturally you thought that said thing would be presented in a form you loved. If you were told Masters of the Universe would appear, you assumed they would resemble the cartoon you watched every day. You didn't expect guys in weird, foamy costumes fake-sword fighting on a 15-foot float.

In that spirit, I present this video from the 1989 (first captured and shared with the world by the excellent X-Entertainment.com, which has a plethora of Thanksgiving Parade videos and period commercials as well). It features a float by Marvel Entertainment, full of all your favorite Marvel characters, and of course Melba Moore too, because...huh?

Ms. Moore sings "I Need a Hero," addressing many of the lyrics to Captain America and Spider-Man (who's too busy crouching to pay her much attention). She had a few hits in the 1980s. "I Need a Hero" was not one of them. This is something the Parade is notorious for doing, having some random person sing a random song in a random setting, thus assuring that everyone involved looks intensely uncomfortable.

Compared to some performances I've seen, Moore is in Laurence Olivier territory. She's game enough to get caught in web-type-thing and climb through a manhole. But no one else has much room to maneuver, and the Marvel heroes and villains don't fight so much as they lightly tap each other and shift from one foot to the other. The Hulk in particular looks like he doesn't know what to do with himself.

By the end of the video, everyone is bopping along to the beat, regardless of affiliation. You can see both Doctor Doom and Luke Cage rockin' out as the song fades away. Moore has united them all with her R&B song stylings.



Weird? Of course, but no weirder than the Marvel float from 1987, which did not include Moore or any other practitioners of the quiet storm arts. It was just a lot of low-impact aerobics, featuring the exact same float seen above, most of the same heroes, and the soundtrack from Back to the Future.

Captain America is prominently featured, as he saves Wolverine from being shoved by bad guys, zaps Doctor Doom to death, and briefly passes by RoboCop without comment (and before you say RoboCop wasn't part of the Marvel Universe, he was, smart guy). 

Two things that confuse me more than the presence of RoboCop: Why does Dr. Strange look like Frank Zappa, and why is The Hulk a bad guy?

When I love something, it's usually due to a combination of factors, but I can always pinpoint one element and say, "This exemplifies why this is awesome." Like how "Clowntime Is Over" might be the best song ever, but whenever I listen to it, I lose myself in how perfect the bassline is. Or like how The Jerk is an indisputable crowning achievement of 20th century comedy, as represented by the duet between Steve Martin and Bernadette Peters where she suddenly without warning breaks into a trumpet solo.

In this vein, there was an ad for Comedy Central that ran in the early/mid-1990s that was so intensely dark, non-sequitir-y, and perfect that it is the gold standard by which I judge such promos. And I do judge promos. Constantly. I'm judging even as I type this.

This commercial was shot in black and white. A prisoner is being led to the electric chair. Tight shots on his panicked face. Beads of sweat break out on his forehead. A priest gives him halfhearted last rites. He shoots a hopeful glance at the phone on the wall, hoping for a pardon. Nothing. He is strapped in. The helmet is put on his head. The clock ticks closer and closer to midnight. Any second now, he will pay for his crimes.

And all of a sudden, an acoustic bass is heard. The prisoner looks off to his left. The camera cuts to a corner of the room, where a jazz trio is performing; a vocalist, a drummer, and a bassist. The singer is a pompadoured hipster-crooner in sunglasses, singing right at the prisoner with exaggerated hand gestures the following lyrics:

You're gonna win!
You're gonna go!
You're head of the pack,
You're king of the show!
You're on the move
Straight to the top
You're way out in front
You'll never stop!
You're gonna win!
You're gonna WIIIIIIIIIN!

Halfway through the song, the prisoner is smiling and tapping his feet. Yeah, everything's gonna be okay! And it ended with the tagline THINK POSITIVE: COMEDY CENTRAL.

Everything about this ad was great, but the one detail that really got me was the trio's drummer. He had this insane wide-eyed grin, almost Cheshire Cat-like, looking straight at the camera. It was monstrously funny. I used to draw little recreations of the trio in my high school notebooks. That's how much I loved them.

This ad popped up in my head recently, so I decided to troll through the internet and look for it. Surely someone had captured its majesty in YouTube form so the entire world could enjoy it and make racist comments about it (since all YouTube videos, regardless of content, attract racist comments).

Well guess what, Internet? You have failed. Failed miserably. Because there is no video representation of this ad ANYWHERE on your series of tubes. For shame.

Sure, you can find later permutations of the ad, like one where a guy comes home to find his wife boning the plumber, and another where a guy takes a dive in a runaway elevator. Not good enough, internet. The death row ad was the ne plus ultra. You need to supply the original and you need to do it posthaste.

I have literally dozens of VHS tapes from this period with episodes of MST3K. It's very possible one (or more) of them has this ad on it. But you know what? I'm putting the onus on you, Rest of the Internet. Haven't I done enough to immortalize the commercials of yesteryear? "Yes," says everybody.

So get on the stick, you guys. I want this thing on my desk after Thanksgiving or heads are gonna roll.

I've already tweeted about this, and Facebooked it, and mouth-talked it. But on the off chance you have yet to see this masterpiece, here 'tis: the video for Ted Leo's "Bottled in Cork", directed by Tom Scharpling, starring Paul F. Tompkins, Julie Klausner, John Hodgman, and a slew of other awesome folk, as they bring Ted to the Great White Way in his musical The Brutalist Bricks! (No Refunds).


Sharp-eyed WFMU-ophiles may spot Terre T, AP Mike, Therese, and some other righteous people. Fortunately for your eyes, you can not see me.

Ya see, I volunteered to be in the crowd scene (brag), but the shoot time got moved up to 4pm, when I would have still been at work. I toyed with the idea of sneaking out early to make the scene, but my German half demanded that keep my nose to the grindstone. (My Irish half was totally down with splitting work and giving everyone the finger as I left.)

Thus, I was denied a shot at rock n' roll immortality.* And a month later, I was let go from this job. There's a lesson in there somewhere, though I'm not quite sure what it is.

*Actually, I may have already achieved rock n' roll immortality, since my enormous bald head can be briefly seen in crowd shots in the following concert films: Fugazi's Instrument, The Make-Up's Blue Is Beautiful, and the aforementioned Mr. Leo's Dirty Old Town. If you can find those movies and spot me in them, you win absolutely nothing.

This video is, quite obviously, a play on the trend of musicals based on a particular band's/artist's oeuvre--particularly ones that don't quite gel with traditional Broadway mores. Like, oh, I don't know, let's just say Green Day. So I assume, anyway. Because there is no way in hell I will ever see any of these quote-unquote musicals without the aid of hard drugs and harnesses.

Especially after seeing this clip someone tweeted earlier today (forgive me for forgetting who, whoever you are), which comes from the Bob Dylan musical. Hey, remember when there was a Bob Dylan musical? No? You're lucky.

Who can say what forces shape us? We are the often the prisoners of our times. One's future could be shaped by simply being at the right place at the right time--or the wrong place at the wrong time. Have you ever thought about what might have influenced your life if you were born during a different age? The Renaissance? The Civil War? The Great Depression? Who can say what heights you may have climbed, or to what depths you may have sunk?

Me, I haven't thought about this conundrum much, because I was born during the Age of Advertising, and thus have a miniscule attention span. I've said this many, many times here at Scratchbomb, but I have been immensely influenced by commercials. I feel like they've rattled in my brain my entire life. Anyone who says they are not influenced in any way by ads is deluded or lying.

When you're a kid, you find many things funny that you don't as an adult. Specifically, other people. Adults won't just laugh in random people's faces, but kids will. They can laugh for hours about somebody they see in the street with a weird haircut or dumb hat on. And if the same person also says something weird, in a weird voice, forget it.

I was reminded of this cruel fact of kid-hood when Joe Randazzo of the Onion tweeted a link to this commercial for Polly-O string cheese (the most needless and unasked for food innovation of all time until pancakes and sausage on a stick). This ad ran for roughly 8 billion years during my childhood, but despite its ubiquity, me and my brothers always found it funny. Always.

Why? Because of the wizened old man who says NUTHIN? The way he said this, combined with his wrinkly face--he looks like a slightly melted candle, or a shar pei--was comedy gold to us.



If you're seeing this for the first time, or were not as struck by it as I was as a kid, I don't expect you to think it's funny. I wouldn't either, if I hadn't spent my entire childhood laughing at it.

Watching this ad an adult, I am struck by a few things.

• Check out the odd posters hanging from the wall, that almost give it a Sedelmaier feel. I particularly like the one that bizarrely reads NO SCREAMING.
• The guy behind the counter who yells at the old wrinkly man calls him "Shimmy". Obviously, he was trying to say "Jimmy" and failed. But Polly-O wasn't gonna shell out for more than one take or overdubbing in post. So there it sits, "Shimmy". My brothers and I found this quite hysterical. HIS NAME IS SHIMMY! WHOSE NAME IS SHIMMY?!
  
• Is cheese really the best part of the pizza, as this ad insists? That's a matter of opinion, of course. But I think I'd rather have a whole slice of pizza than any one individual part of it. I like pizza, but I never get the craving to drink a cup of a tomato sauce on its own. In fact, cheese is probably the worst part of the pizza, nutritionally speaking.
  
• I now realize that all Polly-O string cheese really did was make it acceptable for you to chomp down on a huge chunk of fattening mozzarella at lunchtime. It's like having individually wrapped pudding cups filled with foie gras.
• At the end of the ad, the kids taste the string cheese and give it glowing praise in foreign languages. But only the first kid says something in Italian ("Bellissimo!"). The last two say French expressions. ("Magnifique!" and "C'est si bon!") C'mon, Polly-O, you're making mozzarella and you don't know the difference between Italian and French? Your handlebar-mustachioed ancestors are spinning in their graves.
  

A tweet from someone (can't recall who; forgive me, it's been a jerk of week for me) led me to a post at Mark Evanier's* Web site (News from ME) with some amazing video.

* In case you're unfamiliar with Mr. Evanier, he's a scribe for many cartoons and comic books over the years--most notably (for me) Groo the Wanderer, a grossly overlooked work of supreme silliness.

I'm totally just echoing what Mr. Evanier wrote on his site, but if I can expose a few dozen more people to these videos, it's worth it. And I'm also gonna go ahead and totally tell you what happens in these videos, but I promise these spoilers won't make it any less awesome.

The post in question has a clip from the classic Late Night with David Letterman (from 1984, according to its YouTube page), with Dave interviewing pre-Carson Tonight Show host Jack Paar. Jack takes Dave on an impromptu tour (one Dave was not briefed on before the show, apparently) backstage at the Late Night studio, which belonged to the Tonight Show during Paar's reign. Jack points out a few notable spots, including his old office, which had been filled with junk since he left.

The tour ends in a dressing room, where Paar opens up an innocuous looking utility door to reveal a tangle of old pipes. But not just any pipes. What sense would that make? C'mon, use your head.

No, these pipes were decorated by Jim Henson.



It seems Paar had The Muppets as guests on The Jack Paar Program (the talk show he hosted when he was allowed back on TV) in 1964. It was one of their first national TV appearances. Grateful for the opportunity, Henson expressed his thanks in graffiti form. And even though paint is not a medium you associate with Jim Henson, you can totally see his hand in this work.

Amazingly, it was there 20 years later when Paar sprung it on Dave Letterman. Even more amazing, the artwork is still there today. In fact, NBC has now decided to make it part of their studio tour. Here, in a segment from The Today Show, the exhibit is unveiled by Jimmy Fallon and Frank Oz, puppeteer behind Bert, Fozzie Bear, and many other beloved Muppets.

Visit msnbc.com for breaking news, world news, and news about the economy

If you don't think this is one of the coolest things ever, this is where we part ways, sir.

It's been a busy time at Scratchbomb HQ, and I haven't had the chance to work up anything significant for the site the last few days. Please accept this video of footage from the old Lawrence Welk Show synced to Minor Threat's "Seeing Red" as an apology.

It's Friday! Procrastinate and count down to happy hour with these lovely bits!

Do you love the Muppets? That's a trick question. Of course you do. After all, you're a human being with a sense of humor and a soul. Only an inhuman monster would not like the Muppets. I would not care to be in the same room or ever meet such a quote-unquote person.

Yesterday, the tweeting of Chunklet led me to this YouTube gem. It's a camera test for the first Muppet movie (aptly titled The Muppet Movie). I don't know who posted this, but I owe you a few beers. Words can not express how happy this video made me. In it, Kermit and Fozzie engage in an existential meta-conversation about what they are, exactly. Plus, Miss Piggy admits to a horrible, horrible crime.



There is another video from the same session, apparently, which is not quite as brilliant but still has some amazing dialogue in it. For instance, Fozzie wondering why the car he's riding in does not have a stove.



This next thing is not a video per se, but it's my damn site and I'll promote whatever the hell I want. The illustrious Paul F. Tompkins and Tom Scharpling appeared together on a special two-part edition of the podcast Comedy and Everything Else. It made for nearly four hours of non-stop hilarity. I particularly like Tom's reasoning for why he shouldn't have to sit through the Sarah McLachlan animal cruelty PSA's. Subscribe now and listen to it all. You won't be sorry.

It's Friday! Procrastinate and count down to happy hour with these lovely bits.

Earlier this week, a video debuted for a song by esteemed musicians Violent J and Shaggy 2 Dope--collectively known as the Insane Clown Posse. It was immediately shared across the Twitterverse and the Faced-Book pages as an example of majestic stupidity.

By now, pointing out ICP's lack of talent or smarts is--while incredibly easy and fun--almost cliche. Between The Best Show's skewering of The Gathering of the Juggalos, Saturday Night Live's take on a suspiciously similar subject, and general internet snark, this is not exactly uncharted comedic territory. And even though they have a cult audience, they're not chart toppers, so mocking them seems pointless and a little mean.

But this video...holy goddamn, this thing is...words fail.

Truth be told, it's not really the video itself, which has some cheesy graphics but isn't all that funny on its own. No, it's the song featured in the video, "Miracles". It's about the extraordinary features of everyday life. It sounds like a musical version of a Mitch Albom book, but with tons of F-bombs.

Kudos to ICP for trying to get deep, but very few things mentioned in this video count as "miracles". Almost all of them can be explained with some basic science. That doesn't prevent Shaggy 2 Dope from wondering, "Fuckin' magnets, how do they work?" And Violent J shares his tale of the time a seagull in San Francisco stole his cell phone, which is less of a miracle and more of mildly amusing anecdote.

But maybe it's me. Maybe I'm the jaded, cynical one. Maybe I'm the guy just can't see the miracles of "fuckin rainbows" and "pet dogs and cats". Watch the video and judge for yourself.



Have you see the new Tiger Woods Nike commercial? You'll love it if you like Inappropriate. In it. the disembodied voice of Tiger's father, Earl Woods, admonishes him, as the camera slowly pulls in on his face as he looks stoic and competitive. Did you know Earl Woods is dead? Yeah, he's dead. That, plus Tiger's dead-eyed stare, make this really uncomfortable to watch.

Naturally, this has inspired almost as many re-workings as the bunker scene in Downfall. My favorite: This one, which uses a certain speech from Shawshank Redemption. (This is un-embeddable, but I forgive you, whoever you are.)

It's Friday! Procrastinate and count down to happy hour with these lovely bits!

On this week's edition of The Best Show on WFMU, host Tom Scharpling asked listeners to share their favorite/least favorite celebrity commercials. A few gems were uncovered, which I'd like to share with you in the spirit of friendship and brotherhood and mockery.

First up, a Japanese ad for a cologne called Mandom, featuring that pinnacle of mandom, Charles Bronson. How manly is Chuck? He smokes a pipe shirtless, for one thing. He also fantasizes about himself as a cowboy as he literally pours cologne on himself. Who's gonna tell Charles Bronson he's wearing enough cologne to make a sasquatch tear up? I sure as hell ain't.



Here's an ad for a local cardiologist in Encino, California, starring M*A*S*H's Jamie Farr and a strangely bearded Alex Rocco. The hirsute Mr. Rocco does not get his eye shot out in this scene, as he did as Moe Green in The Godfather Part II, but he did go through the trouble of getting really drunk before the shoot. And you'll never guess the twist ending to this ad! (Here's a hint: You'll totally guess it.)



Speaking of which, here's some outtakes from an ad shoot for Paul Masson Wine starring legendary actor/director Orson Welles. Paul Masson would sell no wine before its time, but they would film ads before their enormous spokesman could sober up. Almost as funny as Welles' pickled reactions are the tortured expressions of the two party-goers to his right.



And what roundup of celebrity endorsements would be complete without Macho Man Randy Savage and his legendary spots for Slim Jim? Thrill as The Macho Man destroys a library and shames an authority figure with the power of smoked meats!



BONUS!: Peep this "interview" with Macho Man Randy Savage from oh, let's say the 80s cuz why not? Even by Macho Man standards, this interview is a little manic. Something extra seems at play. I don't know for sure, but I'll bet that something extra came from Bolivia.

Haven't you always dreamed of hearing Dolph Lundgren sing Elvis Presley? Of course you have. Don't even try to pretend you haven't. Guess what? YOU'RE IN LUCK! In fact, the whole human race is in luck, thanks to this video of Ivan Drago crooning "A Little Less Conversation".

Actually, "crooning" is not the correct word. "Bellowing" is more accurate. His voice is kinda like Ted Cassidy's, only not so vibrant and warm. I've heard very few things more bone chilling than Mr. Lundgren croaking "close your mouth and open up your heart." It makes me think he wants to literally open up my heart, with a box cutter.

So no, Mr. Lundgren is not the interpreter of song that Elvis was. But could The King blast through five huge blocks of ice at once? Maybe, if he was really, really high.



As I'm sure you know, Jay Leno is the worst human being on the planet. So he thoroughly deserves this re-soundtracking of his reprehensible new ads for his return to The Tonight Show.



Finally, we've gotten a lot of snow lately 'round Scratchbomb HQ. While driving in the snow is no picnic, I find nothing funnier than watching cars slide and careen under such conditions (as long as no one gets hurt, of course). I like to consider myself a connoisseur of Snow Crash videos. As such, I present to you this sample as the pinnacle of the art form.

Today, we celebrate the birthday of a great American: Joe Don Baker! No, it's not a holiday yet. But it should be! (Though my friend Shaun told me that you do get the day off if you're a hooker or a brewer.)

As you should already know, Joe Don Baker is the star of Mitchell, the greatest 70s cop/detective movie ever made. Don't believe me? Peep this collection of clips from the films MST3K treatment, and thou shalt believe.



Still not convinced? Infidel! Then check out the hot merging action in this quote-unquote car chase scene.



Please also consider this sampling from the latter-day Joe Don Baker oeuvre, Final Justice, in which our hero roams the island of Malta dressed in a 5-year-old's idea of a sheriff's outfit.

It's Friday! Procrastinate and countdown to happy hour with these lovely bits!

Louis C.K., one of the funniest dudes out there right now, has a new sitcom in the works (Louie), which will debut in April on FX. Yesterday, I finally saw a brief ad for it. It's not much, but it's enough to get me all a-flutter.



I'm glad that this is coming out now, because his last sitcom (Lucky Louie) was unceremoniously canceled by HBO after only one season. (And yet they keep reordering that piece of bro-garbage, Entourage? What the shit?!) And as this video indicates, that cancellation nearly drove him to a very different career path.



Why do I love Mr. C.K. so much? Because he delves into the darkest corners of parenthood, in excruciating detail. As he does in this clip where he discusses the difference between boys and girls.



Or in this clip, where he talks about the horrible frustration that ensues when your child refuses to eat. YOU'RE ON THE GRID! JUST PUT IT IN YOUR FACE!



And because he also makes delightfully silly videos like this.

It's Friday! Procrastinate and count down to happy hour with these lovely bits!

Several friends of mine on the The Twitter and The Facebook posted a link to this video yesterday. It's British funnyman/commentator Charlie Brooker showing the essential elements needed in any news segment. Though this was done on the other side of the pond, it's clear that such rules transcend borders.


This reminded me, Hey, Charlie Brooker's pretty damn funny! Brooker hosts Newswipe on BBC4 (yes, there's four of them now) and is known for his adept, savage skewering of the media. I know the word skewering is tossed off every time someone takes shots at The Boob Tube, but Brooker's pieces are truly worthy of that adjective. Think of Jon Stewart in his best moments of righteous indignation, but angrier and more Cockney.

Like his take on American news media, pitched at a British audience blissfully unfamiliar with the likes of Bill O'Reilly and Glenn Beck.



Brooker can be just as good when going after less serious topics, as in this clip, where he lists "The 10 Biggest Cocks in Advertising". (Cock = douche, jerk, etc. He's not naming the 10 Biggest Cocks in the Greg Oden sense.) I'm not really familiar with most of these ads, but Brooker tears them apart so well--in ways both clever and silly--that it doesn't matter. Funny is funny.



Or this spot-on (as the Brits say) takedown of MTV's My Sweet 16. "I think this might be an Al Qaeda recruitment video."



Just a brief sampling of the peeved hilarity Mr. Brooker has to offer. You could spend hours watching his collected works on the YouTubes. So go ahead! It's only Friday. C'mon, you checked out of work by lunch on Wednesday, didn't you?

Finally, Aziz Ansari posted a video on his web site that is, no joke, the craziest thing you will probably ever see. I cannot embed it, so you'll have to click there and take my word for it.

The video is an pregame intro for an Alaskan collegiate hockey team, featuring their CGI polar bear mascot. It is not cheap, tossed-off CGI. If anything, this video is a little too well done. I will not ruin any of the madness for you. Suffice to say that, if you took Chuck Norris and The Punisher, and multiplied them by infinity, then multiplied them by INSANITY, they would still look like pussies compared to this polar bear.

It's Friday! Procrastinate and count down to happy hour with these lovely bits!

In case you haven't heard, Pee-Wee Herman is back! He's doing live shows and appearing on TV shows and all other sorts of wonderful things.

Is Paul Reubens a bit too old to be doing Pee-Wee Herman? One could make the case. But considering how he was railroaded off TV in the early 90s (and for what, exactly?), I think the man is just making up for unjustly lost time. He could keep doing Pee-Wee until he's 90 years old, and I would say 'bravo'!

* Note to Paul Reubens: Please don't do Pee-Wee when you're 90. Don't go out like Groucho.

One part of Pee-Wee's renaissance is a new, spiffed-up web site, which has many neat things. But perhaps one of the neatest items is The Pee-Wee's Playhouse Christmas Special, which you can watch there in its entirety. It is one of the most deliriously weird Christmas specials ever made--in the best possible sense, of course.

For a lo-res sample, check out the opening below. A chorus of Marines (I think) sings a Pee-Wee-related carol, then Pee-Wee goes nuts introducing all the Playhouse denizens and special guests. Such luminaries as Frankie Avalon, Little Richard, Whoopi Goldberg, Magic Johnson...the list goes on and on!



Also, did you know that Pee-Wee appeared in the video for the holiday classic "Reggae Christmas"? And did you know that there was a holiday classic called "Reggae Christmas"? And did you know that this holiday classic was sung not by a real reggae artist, but Canadian rocker Bryan Adams?

I'm sure you feel much better now, knowing this exists. Yes, Bryan Adams sucks (he sucks so much that he won't allow embedding of his videos, hence it's absence in this post). But Pee-Wee improves anything he's involved in a full 35 percent. It's been proven by science.

If you want to watch the OFFICIAL version of the video, it's here. If you're wondering why Pee-Wee looks so glum, it's because his friends made him the MTV VJ for the evening on Christmas and abandoned him shortly thereafter. You can peep the full version here. I would have included it below, but (a) it's much lower res, and (b) it won't allow me to turn off autoplay.

Sorry, but I can't have my webbed site playing "Reggae Christmas" each time it loads. Can't do it, not even for the love of Pee-Wee.

Truth be told, very few of these ads are strictly Christmas ads. Or even obliquely. But they come from the same VHS tape that spawned the first collection I posted last week, and I'd like to maintain the continuity implied by my previous post. It's my own web-based form of OCD.

Also, this portion of the tape contained some true McDonalds gems from years past. Once upon a time, McDonalds didn't just run ad campaigns. They were more like ad battle plans: attacks on every conceivable front, using every conceivable tactic, and about as devastating (to the arteries, anyway). There were show stopping dance routines, simplistic set pieces, and cutesy spots that tugged at the heartstrings.

Plus, tons of ads aimed squarely at children. Did McDonalds have qualms about pitching horrifically unhealthy food to impressionable tykes? No, no they did not.

But first, the adult ads. For some reason, a huge number of these spots are obsessed with the HOTNESS of McDonalds food. I don't know if they were accused of producing lukewarm food, or if this was a particular issue at the time. (I vaguely recall a Time Magazine cover story from this era that wondered, "Are Our Fast Food Burgers Too Cold?")

Regardless of the cause, in 1985, McDonalds wanted to make sure everyone knew how hot their food was. And just so nobody could miss the message, they created a commercials aimed at specific groups. Like this one, which is clearly pitched to people who love neon.

It's Friday! Procrastinate and count down to happy hour with these lovely bits!

Over Thanksgiving, my brother hipped me to the hilarious video below, which is a compilation of segments from the BBC comedy Snuff Box. You may recognize Matt Berry as Dr. Lucien Sanchez from Garth Marenghi's Darkplace. You may also recognize Rich Fulcher as Bob Fossil from The Mighty Boosh. But if you don't know either of them from Adam, I think you'll recognize funny when you see it.

To be honest, I know very little about Snuff Box, except what bits exist on the YouTube. But from what I can gather, it involves the misadventures of a hangman and his assistant, with liberal doses of British absurdist humor, very much in the Boosh vein. It also has many recurring gags, one of which is gathered here.

Matt Berry will help a young damsel in distress, usually carrying a heavy object for her. But the exact second she reveals she has a boyfriend, I mean, the exact second, he...well, I won't ruin it. Suffice to say, the comedic timing and violence are both exquisite.



Last night, the hilarious Michael Kupperman tweeted "Do something!", along with a link to the video below. I will give it no more set up than he did. Enjoy (seeing this in your nightmares)!

Let the record show I don't hate everything about the holidays. When I was a kid, I had a VHS tape of holiday specials and other stuff recorded around Christmastime, 1985. I rediscovered it years later and loved to watch it over and over for the old ads, plus a truly awesome special about the 50th Anniversary of Loony Tunes.

This special featured various celebrities speaking about the beloved cartoon characters as if they were real people with whom they'd worked. It's a bizarre panoply of famous folks, from Chevy Chase to Danny Thomas to David Bowie, who pretends to not know Bugs Bunny, then admits "we might be doing an album together".

But the best clips come from Bill Murray, who, as always, was pure genius. I've actually made mp3s of some of his improv dialogue and put it on my iPod; whenever it pops up on shuffle, I am always delighted. You can view this special, in chunks, on the Loony Tunes Golden Collection Volume 2, but I just had to share a few of Mr. Murray's best bits, even if it's not the best quality video. In this first bit, Murray reveals a few behind the scene glimpses of the working relationship between Friz Freleng and Yosemite Sam.



In this second clip, Murray talks about the Loony Tunes characters he does and does not respect.



Billy Dee Williams also knows how to bring the funny. Here, he reveals the music he puts on when he wants to get a lady in just the right mood: Carl Stalling. His little gestures, as if saying, "ah yes, that's lovely" as cacophanous cartoon music plays, are priceless.

The first thing I think of when I think of Thanksgiving is the annual Macy's Parade, that weird marriage of huge balloons, showtunes, and Willard Scott. In the magical world of the Macy's Parade, there is nothing so bizarre that it can't be shoehorned into something else.

The greatest thing, in retrospect, is that "artists" who appear in it are only rarely well known. They've been placed into the festivities either because they're on a new NBC show, starring in a new Broadway musical, or have an agent who knows a guy who knows a guy. When viewed through the lens of time, it makes for a great review of has-beens and never-wases.

Sadly, I don't have any old parades in the Vast and Dusty Scratchbomb VHS Archives. But we're all in luck, because the site X-Entertainment.com has a veritable cornucopia of video from many years, ranging from the mid 80s to the early 90s. Just go there, search for "thanksgiving", and you can't go wrong.

I'm partial to the 1989 entry, which is heavy on ALF content and features a truly horrifying Marvel Comics float/musical sequence, among other atrocities. The 1985/1986 page has a terrifying appearance by Phyllis Diller as an inebriated Mother Goose. Both pages have addenda with many classic ads, as do most of the other Thanksgiving reviews. Go there and get lost for hours. It's a lot better than talking to your family!

The second thing that Thanksgiving invokes in my mind is the Turkey Day Mystery Science Theatre 3000 Marathon that used to air each year on Comedy Central (back when they invested in non-racist puppet shows). MST3K used to air 'round midnight most evenings, so it was great to get a chance to watch it in the middle of a lazy holiday. Or attempt to sneak a few viewings of it while not alienating the rest of the family.

Almost as good as the endless string of episodes: The special Turkey Day bumpers produced for it, which were always hysterical. Here's a collection of some of the better ones, although I personally would have included the turkey fact given by Crow "Turkeys have enough tryptophan to knock you on your sorry turkey-eating ass."

As I explained in a recent, similar post, I love commercials. There, I said it. Oh, that felt so liberating.

This latest bout of Pointless Ad Nostalgia comes courtesy of the episode of 120 Minutes from 1991 that contained a lengthy, uncomfortable interview with The Pixies. What's different about these ads vis a vis the Steampipe Alley-era ads I just posted? Well, there's the three years difference, a small eternity in ad-time.

More importantly, since these ads aired on MTV late at night, they're pitched at a much older audience. A fashion-conscious audience that would be receptive to a commercial like this one for Cavaricci. That brand has all but disappeared, but when I was in junior high, everyone had to wear Cavaricci. If you had enough money to buy it, that is. If you were me, you wore generic jeans and whatever was on sale at Caldor's that season.

Why was Cavaricci so popular? Why is anything so popular at any give time? But if this ad is to be believed, they made you very limber and a snazzy dancer.

As I eluded to last week, when I found the bounty of Steampipe Alley tapes, I was looking for something else. That something else was an episode of MTV's 120 Minutes from 1991 that featured an episode-long appearance by The Pixies, mere months before they broke up.

When this show aired, I did not actually have cable in my house. But my grandparents, who lived next door, did. So I would monopolize their VCR in the wee hours, taping either Mystery Science Theater 3000 or 120 Minutes. Despite being an MTV product, 120 Minutes was a pretty decent window into the amorphous world of "alternative" music back then, and also the only way that I could hear about new-ish stuff in the pre-internet days, since I lived nowhere near a cool records store.

This particular episode is an odd time capsule piece, because it comes from one of those in between periods of music. The indie music scene that launched The Pixies was largely dead. The Nirvana phenomenon had yet to begin, although it was just about to (the video for "Smells Like Teen Spirit" aired during this episode, and had just debuted a few weeks previous). So in most cases, alternative = British. By my rough estimate, 75 percent of all the videos that air in this episode come from English bands, most of them being shoegazer types like Ride, Curve, Lush, etc.

But my main reason in presenting these clips to you is not to highlight this very brief era. I've digitized them because they're some of the most uncomfortable video you'll ever see.

For one thing, The Pixies were already well immersed in the tensions that would doom the band. But rather than exercise that misery on each other, they aim it squarely at the show's host, Dave Kendall. The poor man has to dig and scrape to get the most mundane answers out of them.

This first clip is benign enough. The band is introduced, and Frank Black talks briefly about the inspiration behind the "Here Come Your Man" video. But the fact that he's wearing a panama hat and sunglasses for this interview should have thrown up some huge red flags. As should have Joey Santiago's weird fuzzy hat.

One fringe benefit of discovering the Steampipe Alley tapes (other than being able to expose the world to the genius of Mario Cantone): they were also full of some "classic" ads from yesteryear. Anyone who reads this site with any regularity will know that I have a thing for old commercials. Because I think commercials say a lot more about their respective eras than other media do. After all, art wants to be timeless, but ads are aimed at The Now.

These ads are even more special to me. Why? Because they ran on WWOR, an independent station. So the spots are a little cheaper and a little more home grown.

I realize that many of the ads you'll see below only resonate with me because I remember them from being a kid. I'll cop to that. Because if you can't indulge yourself once in a while, you can you indulge, really?

For instance, this spot for Young People's Day Camp. This ad ran, virtually unchanged, for my entire childhood. The narration, music, and footage stayed the same for at least ten years. I imagine their PR/marketing department was run by one tyrannical, crusty, cigar-chomping veteran who refused to acknowledge that times change. "Look, the ad worked in 1979, it'll work in 1995. Why shouldn't it?!"

While searching through the Vast and Dusty Scratchbomb VHS Archives, looking for something I hope to digitize and post to the site very soon (shh! it's a secret!), I ran across not one, not two, but three full episodes of Steampipe Alley. They're like the Dead Sea Scrolls of kids' show camp!

Once I made this discovery, I did a quick tour of the interwebs and discovered--TO MY HORROR--that there is virtually no online record of Steampipe Alley's existence. THIS ENDS HERE!

If you didn't grow up in the Tri-State Area and/or you aren't of a certain age, you may have never heard of Steampipe Alley. It aired on WWOR, channel 9. Nowadays, it's a "My" station whatever the hell that means, but back then, it was an independent station with Superstation aspirations that broadcast out of Seacaucus, NJ.

Once upon a time, every local TV channel had its own self-produced kids' show with a goofy host, contests, sketches, and cartoons. By the 1980s, almost none of them did. In fact, by that time, there were very few independent stations left at all. Channel 9 was a rare outpost for ultra-local programming (and a budget to match), wedged in between Cosby Show reruns, old movies, and other syndicated fare.

In 1988, for some anachronistic reason, WWOR decided to produce its own kids' show called Steampipe Alley. Info on the interwebs about the program's origins (or anything else about it) is spotty at best. Here's all you really need to know: it was hosted by Mario Cantone.

You may know Mr. Cantone from Sex and the City, or you may have seen him on a Comedy Central Roast or two, or you may have seen him do his standup act. But if you've seen him in any form, you know that he's high energy, to say the least. And he loves campy, old timey references that he's way too young to namecheck. He's equal parts Robin Williams, Rip Taylor, and Charles Nelson Reilly.

Did he tone it down a bit when he hosted a kids' show? I think you know the answer to that question already.

It's Friday! Procrastinate and count down to happy hour with these lovely bits!

Over at the FOT forum, Stupornaut posted a link to this amazing collection of terrible dialogue from video games of the last 10 years or so. Most of them are terrible because of the dialogue itself--not too many Faulkners work in the video game industry--although there are clearly a few "actors" included here who should not have chosen voice over work for their vocation Particularly one man who did a voice for Mega Man, who sounds like he went to the Elmer Fudd School of Diction.



Earlier this year, former major league pitcher Dock Ellis passed away. His biggest claim to fame is the fact that he once threw a no-hitter while tripping balls on LSD. That feat has now been immortalized in animation form, thanks to the good people at No Mas. Even if you don't like baseball or lysergic amusement, you will enjoy this video. Trust me.



Finally, just because, here's The Minutemen performing "Little Man with a Gun in His Hand" (one of my favorite songs of all time) at the 9:30 Club in DC, circa 1984. D. Boon, gone way too soon.

Okay, that's enough haterade for one day. Enough with the negativity! Now is the time to gather together and celebrate those things that we like and think are fun!

For instance, imitating Danzig. Anyone who reads this site will know that I think Danzig is hilarious. Just the idea of him. I mean, c'mon, just look at the guy. So when Ted Leo posted pics of himself dressed as Misfits-era Danzig, I demanded more. And I got more.

I got more than pics, in fact. WE ALL DID. Because Mr. Leo was dressing as Lodi's favorite son as part of a Halloween show down in Philadelphia, wherein he and the band TV Casualty (featuring Atom of Atom and His Package, among others) performed an entire concert of Misfits covers. Better still, some forward-thinking genius captured the whole thing on video and posted it to YouTube.

You might wonder how Ted Leo would perform as Danzig. They're not very similar in stage presence, singing voice, or general bulk. But as part one of this video collection will attest, Ted doesn't just imitate Misfits-era Danzig. He IS Misfits-era Danzig!

Seriously, this is one of the greatest things people have ever done. Watch this, then hie thee to the rest of the set. I particularly enjoyed their versions of "Hyrbid Moments" and "Last Caress", but you can't go wrong with anything in this collection, I says.

It's Friday! Procrastinate and countdown to happy hour with these lovely bits!

This video of a Hungarian ventriloquist choir was placed on the FOT forum by Big Plastic Head, preceded by the phrase "Nightmare Fuel." I could not agree more. Good to know that, even in foreign countries, ventriloquists' "dummy" voices sound pinched and annoying.

See if you can guess what song they'll sing before it starts. I think you'll be pleasantly horrified.



And while we're on the subject of terrifying vocal performances, here's another find from the FOT forum, this one posted by dania. It features a man at church who's overtaken by the spirit of The Lord (and no doubt more earthly substances) and takes a stab at singing "Amazing Grace". Hilarity ensues.

Most spectacular feature of this video: when the church band kicks in, and not only keeps a straight face, but stays on key/in rhythm the whole time. Amazing, indeed.
 

It's Friday! Procrastinate and countdown to happy hour with these lovely bits!

Comedian Soupy Sales passed away yesterday, which immediately made me nostalgic. Soupy hosted a kids' show in the 1950s and 1960s, probably one of the first to make any attempt to appeal to adults at the same time as children. It actually gathered something of a hip following at one point, particularly when production moved from New York to Los Angeles.

I wasn't old enough to have seen that show, but my grandparents had a couple of old Soupy Sales records at their house, which I remember listening to and enjoying many times. They were kind of corny, even to a little kids' ears, full of bad puns and the like, but fun. One of the record, Spy with a Pie, was a full-length James Bond parody, inexplicably featuring a Bela Lugosi-esque vampire puppet and a come-on from a Mae West honey trap. ("I'd like to run mah finger through your black, wavy hair." "No thanks, I got a comb.")

When I heard that he died, I figured I'd go online and try to find some clips of his old show, which I'd actually never seen. You can see a direct line from him to Pee-wee's Playhouse, definitely, in the free, anarchic universe they both inhabited in their shows.

If anything, Soupy's world is a little too free; I seriously doubt there was any kind of script. And you can totally see the sets shake every time somebody moves. But I admire the cheapness (although I doubt it was a conscious aesthetic choice) because cheapness is funny.

Plus, Soupy played some kickin' tunes on his show. Check out this clip, where his pal Pookie dances/lip syncs to Oscar Peterson's "Mumbles" and John Lee Hooker's "Boom Boom Boom" (not the John Lee Hooker version, though).



Can you imagine a kids show playing music like that nowadays? Well, maybe Yo Gabba Gabba. Interesting side note: Two of Soupy's kids, Hunt and Tony, formed Iggy Pop's rhythm section for Lust for Life. Seriously.

And speaking of swingin' tunes, check out this lengthy clip in which Soupy serves dinner to som brat and his dad, and members of The Rat Pack. I can't say this all that funny or exactly classic TV, but you do get to see Frank Sinatra, Sammy Davis Jr., and Joey Bishop get hit in the face with a pie.


As for the modern funny, my brother recently sent me this video in which John Mulaney talks about The Best Meal ever. I have to admit I was largely ignorant of Mr. Mulaney until he appeared in studio on The Best Show earlier this year. But me likey, definitely. I know this isn't really a video per se, but seriously, if this story does not make you bust a gut, you are dead inside.

Do you remember that simpler time in America? Do you remember how that felt? Do you remember this commercial?


Yes, there was a time when tow-headed young boys could give Cokes to famous defensive linemen. And the linemen would give the children sweaty souvenirs! When was the last time you saw that in Obama's America? What has happened to our nation? Or how about this, do you remember this?


We were all Peppers back then! No one saw color! It didn't matter if you were a boatin' Pepper, a totin' Pepper, a cookin' Pepper, or a good lookin' Pepper! It didn't even matter if you were Popeye! We all danced on the deck of a Staten Island Ferry boat! Only when I look at ads like this do I realize how much we've lost! Still not convinced? How about this, do you remember this?

It's Friday! Procrastinate and countdown to happy hour with these lovely bits!

As 5 o'clock nears, my fancy turns to thoughts of beer. Whilst working on the 1999 Project and listening to old WFAN audio, I've heard many ads for Rheingold, the Brooklyn-based brew revived in the late 90s.

I love old beer commercials. They're so festive and fun, without being aimed at the Complete Slob Market. And yet, they're clearly advocating that you enjoy their product constantly. Check out this commercial from 1950. I can't imagine how many man-hours this reqiured in the pre-CGI era. And how many cans and bottles of brew were sacrificed to make it a reality.



Rheingold also some great ads during its latter day phase, such as this one from 2004, which struck against some of the ridiculous Giuliani/Bloomberg "quality of life" crusades.



Sadly, Rheingold is no longer with us. So pour some on the curb for it tonight. Oh wait, you can't. Dammit.

It's Friday! Procrastinate and countdown to happy hour with these lovely bits!

It's sad when NASA has to get promotional ideas from Mr. Show. Too bad they couldn't have gotten Toby Keith (the real life C.S. Lewis Jr.) to write a song for this interstellar, pyrotechnic event.

And yes, I'm positive I'm the eight millionth person today to post this video blast from the comedy past. But there's no excuse too flimsy or timeworn to enjoy some Mr. Show, I says.




Speaking of which, also enjoy this sketch from an unaired Bob Odenkirk pilot circa 2002 (Next!), featuring Odenkirk and Mr. Show alum Jay Johnston.

It's Friday! Procrastinate and countdown to happy hour with these lovely bits!

Call this edition "Late to the Party", since it focuses on two things I should have watched/discovered much sooner. No matter! The important thing is, I know about them now, and soon, so shall you (if you didn't already).

The first reinforces a comedic principle that I believe in sincerely: Danzig is funny. On rare occasions, he is funny on purpose, as in his guest appearance on Aqua Teen Hunger Force. But he's even more funny when being mocked, as in the video where someone compiled a Danzig grocery list. Or in the video where he gets knocked the eff out on one punch.

But I think my favorite Danzig video has to be this one, wherein he and Shakira duet on a Misfits-esque version of "Hips Don't Lie". This video has been around for quite a while--like, two years, apparently, but I only recently stumbled on it. Better late than never, I says.



Speaking of better late then never, earlier this week I finally saw a show whose entire conceit is "better late than never", called Garth Marenghi's Darkplace. I'd heard of it, and heard it was good, but hadn't seen it until The Onion AV Club featured it in a story on TV shows about TV shows. After watching the clip the featured, I spent a good hour watching all the Darkplace stuff I could find (because, of course, I have nothing better to do).

The premise of the show: famous author Garth Marenghi wrote, produced, and starred in the titular show in the 1980s, a supernatural-y hospital drama that was "so radical, so risky, so dangerous, so god damn crazy that the so-called powers that be became to scared to show it!"

So it languished in his basement, until "the worst artistic drought in British television history" brought Darkplace back to the airwaves. The show-within-a-show is a pitch-perfect send-up of every 80s drama you've ever seen, with production values and acting talent that make the average SyFy channel movie look like Citizen Kane. Plus a creator/star with a massive ego and no sense of his many limitations.



 And like most 80s shows, the Darkplace characters would occasionally bust out a Miami Vice-type musical montage, like this one. 

It's Friday! Procrastinate and countdown to happy hour with these lovely bits!

The Friends of Tom forum continues to be a fount of awesome. It was there that FOT icepants posted the video below, which was produced by The Legion of Rock Stars. From their website:

LEGION OF ROCK STARS has freed themselves from the shackles of practicing, instead perfecting a performance technique known as the Pure Pleasure Process.

While listening to songs on headphones equipped with 30dB sound blockers to blot out the outside world, the band plays and sing their hearts out, all while unable to hear themselves.

What this means: They record horrible versions of famous songs, and occasionally sync their versions up with the real videos and post them. YouTube has many LRS reworkings to feast on, but this rendition of Danzig's "Mother" is probably my favorite (though I also recommend their take on Van Halen's "Jump", as it has some "amazing" keyboard and guitar solos in it; their rendition of Journey's "Any Way You Want It" is also quite hilarious).



Last year, the world cheered as a video surfaced of Baseball Hall of Famer George Brett torturing young Royals players with tales of shitting his pants. It was not really a gotcha video. If anything, it enhanced Mr. Brett's reputation as a masterful raconteur and a purveyor of awesomeness.

How could this video possibly be improved upon? The way that everything is improved: with autotune. CuzzinLoutie pointed me to the video below, wherein someone has not only autotuned Brett's poop story, but enhanced his monologue with hilarious visual cues.

This is probably the only good use of autotune ever (other than Autotune the News, of course).

Running on some low batteries this morning, folks. While I wait for inspiration to hit, enjoy this synth-filled remix of William Shatner talking about mountain climbing.



Thanks to bigplastichead for alerting me to this via tweet.

I find foreign languages funny. And I find them especially funny in song form. I have no idea why, I just do. I don't question it. I might as well ask, "Why is the sky blue?" or "What is this lump and how long has it been there?"

One format that always kills me is traditional salsa. Again, I can't truly express why. But traditional salsa groups (and even some non-traditional ones) do something that always makes me laugh: the horn section singing the chorus in unison.

Why does this crack me up? Again, no idea. Something about the timbre of the vocals, how they sound vaguely distant, like the singers are shouting through paper towel tubes. And how, no matter what group is playing, the Horn Player Chorus sounds exactly the same.

I find this so funny, in fact, that I often think of songs that could be done in a salsa style, just to imagine a fictional horn section singing the chorus. For instance, I can make myself laugh by just imagining the semi-obscure early 80s synth-pop hit "Poison Arrow" as a salsa song. Because in my head, I hear a horn players singing "shoot that poison arrow!", intercut with the keyboard lick recreated by a five-piece brass section.

In that spirit, and knowing full well no one else may find this amusing, I present this clip of a band called La Palabra doing their rendition of "Careless Whisper" (retitled "Rumores" for no discernible reason). The Wife tells me this was a pretty big hit on Spanish radio back in the day, not too long after the Wham! original climbed the charts.

If forget how/why she discovered this, but I am oh so glad she did. Enjoy!

Robert Popper--one of the geniuses behind Look Around You and Radio Spiritworld--posted this video to his webbed site. It is one of the funniest clips I've since The Winnebago Man. (It would be the funniest, had I not recently exposed to The Gathering of the Juggalos.) It actually has quite a bit in common with The Winnebago Man, since it manages to pack years of frustration, anger, and resentment into a few small minutes.
 


Why is this so funny? Let's count the ways.

There's the weird framing involved; either this psychic is a midget or the cameraman is 9 feet tall. I can think of no other reason why they chose to leave so much bluescreen above the man's head.

There's the completely childish, lowest-common-denominator insults launched at this psychic. And the psychic's immediate retorts, many of which are just as crude as that taunts that prompted them.

But if I had to pick, I'd say my favorite moment is the psychic invoking the turn-the-other-cheek philosophy of Jesus Christ--seconds after he's proclaimed that everyone who insulted him during this show will die over the weekend.

Public access cable: the gift that keeps on giving,

Earlier this week, I saw this sports talk program on Queens Public Access. You know, this guy seems to know what he's talking about regarding the NBA draft, but I feel like he's undermining his points in some way. I can't quite put my finger on why, though. Maybe it's just a gut feeling. What do you guys think?



Maybe he didn't know Rubio would play hardball with Minnesota? I mean, everyone knew there was a chance he'd stay in Europe--or at least hold that over the T-Wolves' heads. Yeah, that's gotta be it.

Last week, I wrote about the horrible, horrible, and hilarious saga of Bulletball. After doing so, I felt a little bad. Like I was just exploiting this man's delusion for a few yucks. Who am I to judge? What have I done in my life that makes me so high any mighty? I was filled with shame, more so than usual.

Then I saw a few other Bulletball-related videos on The YouTube, and now...you know, I still don't know how this makes me feel. Kind of giddy and icky at the same time. Like it's Halloween and I just ate a whole buncha candy and I'm jacked up on sugar, but it's Sunday night and I have to go to school tomorrow.

Most of the videos are basically sales pitches for the game, but this clip blows my mind. I don't think it legally qualifies as a video. It may just be an animated gif, accompanied by some Casio rap, performed first by a guy who sounds vaguely like Curtis Blow, then by a kid who does the exact same lyrics.

Granted, this video was probably not made by the insane inventor of Bulletball. But it seems to capture its spirit, don't you think?

A tweet from the inestimable Mikey J alerted me to the YouTubery below, a clip from American Inventor. The show was kinda like American Idol with slide rules, and even more self delusion. Inventors pitch their brainchildren to a panel of judges, who either greenlight them or send them on their merry way.

The sad, unspoken truth is that most inventing these days is done in corporate labs. The era of the hobbyist inventor--some guy who, in Jean Shepherd's words, would spend years in his basment trying to come up with automatic Venetian blinds--are deader than vaudeville disco. And yet, there are still some people who think they can beat the odds and come up with The New Thing that will captivate America.

People like Marc Griffin, who says he has invented a sport that will appeal to all ages, genders, races, and creeds. He has been developing this game for 26 years, and is now ready to reveal it to the world.

Not only will it succeed, says Marc, but one day it will be an Olympic sport! Hey, confidence is good! Confidence breeds success! Confidence can also make you sell everything you own--including your wife's wedding ring and your house--and pour it into your tabletop game, which is what Marc did. Yikes.

Needless to say, the judges find themselves in an awkward position. Even more so when Marc demonstrates his game and it seems kind of confusing and not too fun. It certainly doesn't look like something someone spent parts of three decades working on. And the fact that Marc has poured much time and money into this makes the judges seriously question his sanity and wonder if he should seek help.

This results in some of the most awkward television ever produced--including The Magic Hour--and what Cracked deemed The Most Glorious Failure in TV Talent Show Audition History.



On the one hand, this is heartbreaking. Imagine you have a dream that you've been pursuing for almost 30 years, and in five minutes it is destroyed--on national TV, no less. I think any writer can sympathize. I've spent years on various pieces of fiction that will probably never see the light of day. And after writing two unsold novels, I've been working on a third, off and on, for five years. I love the idea behind it, but even if I do ever finish it, will it just wind up on a slush pile somewhere?

Jesus, now I'm depressed.

On the other hand, this man hasn't just spent an enormous amount of time on this invention. He's recklessly endangered his family by flushing cash down the toilet. And for what? An Ikea table with bumpers. If you're selling your house to buy anything less than a kidney, you're probably insane.

On the tragicomic scale, I give this clip nine Royal Tenenbaums.

The tweeting of Paul Scheer (of Human Giant fame) alerted me to the presence of this awesome video at Eric Appel's site. I would embed it here if I could, but both Eric's site and the site where the video originally appeared--Funny or Die--are worth your attention.

The video in question consists of clips from a user video for a 3D camera starring Vincent Price. From the look of it, this thing was shot mere hours before Mr. Price's untimely demise. he gives it his all nonetheless. The man was such a professional.

The script emphasizes the camera's ease of use. But within seconds, it becomes apparent that this "simple" camera requires quite a bit of knowledge and TLC to use. I can't even say why this is so funny, but I assure you it is. Enjoy!

Ever wondered what Rush would sound like all slowed down? Of course you do! Here's "Tom Sawyer" with the brakes on. Kinda sounds like some mutant hyrbid of Black Sabbath and Mission of Burma. Notice how, even slowed down, Geddy Lee's voice is still pretty high.



Hat-tip to Bugle Boy over at the FOT forum for exposing me to this.

Paxarcana's twitter page pointed me to this amazing video originally posted at Dvorak Uncensored: Japanese hitting coach bats baseball straight up a rope. For real.

So not only have the Japanese conquered the Real Baseball world, they've also cornered the market on Pete Maravich-esque baseball trickery. That's it, we give up. You guys win.

How long before this is an event on Unbeatable Banzuke?

Over the weekend, I saw (most of) Idiocracy, Mike Judge's last doomed film. It has yet to achieve the cable/DVD cult status afforded to Office Space, mostly because it's not nearly as funny. But the movie does a good job of fleshing out the universe contained in its premise: what happens when all the smart people in the world stop breeding, and the planet becomes overrun with morons?

The little cultural touches of the universe work better than the actual plot and characters. In the world of Idiocracy, the most popular TV show is called "Ow! My Balls!", the president is a machine gun-weilding "smackdown champion", and a film called Ass won 8 Academy Awards

Conspicuously absent from the film is what music would be like in this world. Dumb is much harder to achieve on purpose in music than in other media. In fact, I can't think of too many people who have tried to capture the essence of Dumb in music and succeeded, other than Spinal Tap. Apart from "Big Bottom" and other Tap tunes, actual Dumb music made by actual Dumb people beats out manufactured Dumb Music by a mile.

But I think I found the soundtrack to a world filled with people with IQs of 60 (found = saw it posted to several message boards I frequent). This song is perfect for the world of Idiocracy--it's violent, emotionally stunted, sexually ignorant, aggressively misogynistic, and idiotic. I mean, truly, deeply idiotic.

I wanted to say "unapologetically idiotic", but the people who made this song/video would be unable to apologize for their idiocy because they haven't the slightest clue how idiotic they are. When I first saw this video, I thought it might be a put-on. But after a minute or so, as I fought the urge to vomit, I realized that only truly shallow morons could make music this moronic.

Ladies and gentlemen of the jury, I present to you the absolutely worst song I've ever heard in my life, by the worst group in the universe: brokeNCYDE. And don't think too hard about how these mind-corpses are already on tour and playing IRVING PLAZA TONIGHT and probably making huge bank, because if you dwell on that horrifying factoid too long, you'll wanna kill yourself. I know I do!

For the original Inappropriate Walk Up Music post, click here.

Every day until Opening Day, Scratchbomb presents three tunes that are completely, unequivocally inappropriate for use as major league walk-up music.

These are not necessarily bad songs--although that certainly helps. They are merely songs that don't evoke the fear and dread one traditionally associates with the walk-up song. In fact, they evoke the exact opposite.

Imagine yourself in the on-deck circle. Bottom of the 9th. Down by one. Man on second, two out. You hear the PA system blare, The centerfielder, number 20... The crowd roars at the sound of your name. And as you stroll to the batter's box, you are greeted with the strains of one of these songs:

* "Closer to Fine," Indigo Girls
Suggested by Cuzzin Loutie; we also would have accepted "Galileo"

* "Uncle Albert/Admiral Halsey": Paul McCartney
I like this song, but I'm amused by the thought of someone taking practice cuts during the jaunty Admiral Halsey section. Like, Albert Pujols staring down the pitcher while Sir Paul toots "He had to have a berth, or he couldn't get to sleep..."

* Charlene, "Never Been to Me"
They used to reference this song all the time on Mystery Science Theatre 3000. In fact, I was unaware it was an actual song for the longest time; I just thought "I've been to paradise, but I've never been to me" was one of those touchy-feely Me Decade phrases. If you've never heard the song, it's just as ridiculous as that line implies.

My brother recently purchased MLB 09:The Show for Playstation 3 (ME WANTEE). One of the many features of this game is that you can upload your own MP3s to the hard drive and customize walk-up music for all your favorite players.

You can also record your own crowd noise. Seriously, if I had this game (or a PS3), I would spend so much time customizing the game environment, I would never actually play a game. I'd spend an entire day recording hateful taunts for Chipper Jones alone. Most of them wouldn't be the least bit clever, either. Stuff like, "Chipper, I hope one day everyone you love abandons you and die alone and afraid!"

This revelation led to the discussion of awesome walk-up songs, and what we would pick for our own walk-up songs if we were major leaguers. Me, I'd opt for either "Right Brigade" by Bad Brains or the intro to "Little Friend" by Minor Threat. Yes, I gave this a great deal of thought.

But this also led to a parallel train of thought: What would be the worst walk-up music ever? Not necessarily the worst songs ever (although bad songs would surely have an edge here). But these tunes would have to be the exact opposite of the kind of intimidating, in-your-face songs that most hitters opt for.

Real-life example: Robin Ventura gets a lifetime pass from yours truly. He hit the grand slam single, which means I would totally bust that guy out of jail if he asked me to. But during the 2000 season, his at-bats were accompanied by various Bob Dylan songs. Most often, "Like a Rolling Stone" or "Positively 4th Street." *

* I possess several bits of video/audio evidence that will attest to this fact, but I dare not post them for fear of MLB's mighty lawyer-filled wrath. So you'll have to take my word for it.

Now, far be it from me to impugn either of these classics. But they're really not songs a major league baseball player should hear as he steps to the plate. I would pick 8 million songs I can't stand before I picked ruminative, existential tunes like these.

So, my little project from now until Opening Day (or  for as long as I can stand it): come up with three songs a day that would be completely inappropriate as walk-up music.

Paint yourself a mental picture: You're in the on-deck circle. Bottom of the 9th. Down by one. Man on second, two out. You hear the PA system blare, The centerfielder, number 20... The crowd roars at the sound of your name. And as you stroll to the batter's box, you are greeted with the strains of one of these songs:

* "Poker Face," Lady GaGa

* "Caught a Light Sneeze," Tori Amos

* "The Loadout," Jackson Brown

When you make a first-person video and post it to YouTube, you look like an idiot. Doesn't matter who you are or what you're talking about. YouTube has a special filter that makes all of its users look like delusional maniacs once posted online.

I suspected this for a long time, but now I have confirmed it. Because Francis Ford Coppolla has posted a YouTube video wherein he talks about his upcoming movie Tetro. And as you can see, the director of The Godfather and The Conversation and Apocalypse Now looks just as deranged and clueless as Tay Zonday or Kige Ramsey. That must make Robert Evans happy.

Nothing wrong with the site, just my brain. I've had a cold for the last week and its robbing me of the ability to post anything meaningful.

In the meantime, amuse yourself with this out of season favorite: kid coldcocks a monster
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I've been toying with the idea of a post on the ridiculousness of the Snuggie. And while I was mulling it over, this video was produced, which said it all much better than I could. And with pictures, too!


Hat tip to Patrick of Oregon, whose post on the Friends of Tom Forum alerted me to this mini masterpiece.

Ah, interwebs, is there any moment of schadenfreude you can't provide me with?

New Site Update: Them YouTube clips below will totally not work. Not sure who's to blame, MLB or the Rocket. In either case, this post is provided for historical purposes only.

When I was an MFA student, one of my workshop leaders, a writer of some renown (brag), told me that villains must be understood. Our class was wondering out loud if there could ever be a Great Bush Era Novel. He said that if such a novel were ever written, it couldn't be an angry screed or political tract.

Even if you were no fan of George W. Bush (which I doubt anyone in the room was), your book couldn't succeed on blind hatred. You could not portray Bush as a mustache-twirling Snidely Whiplash-type, or an incurious dolt. For such a book to work, he said, you would have to find some way to sympathize with him. Anything less would both fail as fiction and trivialize an entire administration.

That doesn't mean pardoning or condoning The Evil That Men Do. But villains in black hats are boring. Gray is much better, if scarier, because it makes us realize that given the right circumstances, virtually anyone can find themselves doing unspeakable things.

I dredge this up in the wake of the Roger Clemens debacle. Anyone who reads this site should know my feelings on the Rocket. I've poked him with a stick once or twice. Several times, in fact. In my mental Hall of Infamy, he's one of a very select group of people I'd like to go away and never see again. If he became a hermit and lived out the rest of his days in a cave somewhere, I wouldn't shed a tear.

New Site Update: Don't bother clicking on any of them YouTube links below, 'cuz they ain't gonna work. This post is here for historic purposes only. I'm hoping to get the non-baseball stuff reposted at some point, but there's so much stuff to do here that I would not hold my breath.

Update 02.16.07: Deadspin gave a shoutout to this post, which was quite awesome of them. Unfortunately, I think that attention attracted the decidedly unawesome attention of MLB Advanced Media, who sent me a copyright infringement notice via YouTube. I totally understand that we have to respect MLB's intellectual rights. After all, I wouldn't want to interfere with the inevitable theatrical release and DVD transfer of a spring training preview from 19-friggin-88. *sigh*

The Wife wants it on record that she said MLB would crack the whip on me. I doubted her. "Why the eff would MLB give two shits about a spring training preview from 19 years ago?" She is less naïve than I, I suppose. Mea culpa.

Long story short, I'm afraid I had to remove said video clips. I've left the rest of the post as is so you can imagine the anachronistic hilarity. Also, the old ads are still viewable, as long as no one rats on me to the Gibraltar singer with the White Afro.

* * *

I find the days following a big snowstorm to be worse than the actually event. The roads are a mess and they're filled with angry, dirty piles of plowed snow. You need a canoe to cross most intersections thanks to the enormous lakes of smashed melted snow that ebb at every street corner. And everyone in the city is really pissed off. Usually, you think a sweaty day is the kind that gets folks all hot and bothered. But climes like this can be just as bad for the collective mood. After you've been smashed against a thousand other dripping, angry commuters on the bus and/or train, you're just as ready to start a fistfight as you'd be during an August heat wave.

No matter. My thoughts are warm, because pitchers and catchers have started to report to Florida. I'm also told that there are some insane teams that train in Arizona. I can neither confirm nor deny this.

On Friday, the Mets will be in Port St. Lucie (at least the ones that pitch and catch) and we will be that much closer to Opening Day. An Opening Day when the team will have to watch the 83-win Cardinals get their World Series rings. Hopefully, that will get their blood boiling to set up an '86-like rampage through the National League. I don't ask for much from the universe, but can Jose Reyes' first hit of the year be a line drive off of Albert Pujols' knee? Or at least Scott Spiezio's chin-snatch? I thank you in advance, unseen powers.