How Do YOU Retro...?

Makes you dizzy, doesn't it...

Retro...
Wikipedia defines it as  a culturally outdated or aged style, trend, mode, or fashion, from the overall postmodern past, that has since that time become functionally or superficially the norm once again.
 So, in a nutshell, anything that fits this criteria from  any era can be considered to be "retro". Though, arguably, there are some "blasts from the past" that  should not be described as a "blast" but should instead be "blasted" (as in "blasted into a million pieces") and mercifully forgotten.

The way old timers listened to music...

With such a broad definition of the word, the question here is, how do you retro...?
I suppose this all depends on the year you were born in and the eras you grew up during. Perhaps it depends on the era that was most influential to you. Either way, everyone retros differently. And, just for the sake of randomness and my being in a retro kind of mindset lately, I thought it might be... interesting... to see how one Gen X-er retros...

For those who have no clue what was considered Generation X, Wikipedia has a very in depth definition of the term. For the short version, Generation X (or Gen X) refers to those born after the "baby boom", usually classified as those born between the 1960's until the early 1980's.
And being in the middle ground of Gen X, my way to retro, for the most part, tends to lean more towards the taste of the early to late 1970's...

The bachelor pad decor

It was, to say the least, a bit of a "unique" time where style was concerned... Color schemes were something that, today, leave a bad taste in people's mouths. Various shades of oranges, browns and yellows, olive green and white...  It sounds like a bad nightmare and, to a degree, it was when used in certain combinations and patterns. Well... that's not true, either. No matter what combination or pattern it was used in, the standard 1970's colors were on the disturbing side whether it be clothing or decor. Ask any Gen X-er about the decor in their home or their clothing growing up and chances are they will shudder at the thought and will, to your horror, bring out a stack of old pictures from their childhood to prove to you they aren't making this up.... Stephen King couldn't make up stuff this scary...

Wicker, white and yellow...

That's not to say that those were the only popular colors of the time... Burgundy (and similar shades like raspberry and mulberry)  was also a popular color. Coincidentally, I have a photo of my father in a pair of burgundy, polyester bell-bottom pants to prove this...
Robin's Egg Blue was also a popular color, mostly for things like polyester pant and leisure suits. Add to this a shirt open to the navel with an ass load of gold medallions on chains around your neck, a white patent leather shoes and matching belt and congratulations, you are now officially a 1970's "lounge lizard"!
I'm happy to report that I have no pictures to prove that "lounge lizard" look ever existed... Lucky for you... and myself, for that matter... It was a fashion statement that could, for anyone viewing it, scar a person for life. And I wish I could say I was exaggerating that statement.

But, bad color schemes and fabrics aside...

The Rockettes on wheels...?

A less gaudy version of 1970's fashion can be seen in the picture on the left, along with another popular accessory of the times... roller skates...
In this day of more attractive styles of skates and the more popular roller blades, it's hard to believe that skates were ever designed like this, let alone in such hideous color schemes... but they were. I personally had the other version of roller skates of the time, which were nothing more than a metal framework with metal wheels that slipped over your shoes and required an odd looking metal key to adjust them. And, as you would expect, they didn't glide you across the ground smoothly...

Good heavens, my mother had patterns like this...

Not necessarily a sign of those times (as it's been ongoing for decades) but definitely something I remember with little fondness from my childhood was the practice of making your own clothing with patterns like the ones on the left. My mother often drug me along on trips to fabric stores... I assume it was so I got first look at whatever hideous material she was choosing to make, perish the thought, matching outfits for me and my sister, who is five years my elder.
I have pictures to prove this, also!
Scary pictures...

But not everything about style was nightmare inducing...

Actress Goldie Hawn circa 1978

 Hair was one of the better parts of the era... Shag cuts, like this one Goldie Hawn sported in my favorite movie, Foul Play, were an attractive style that have since made a comeback in some way, shape and form. What I find so wonderful about this style is that it worked with mostly every hair type and didn't really require a lot of care. Well... unless you took it to extremes like Farrah Fawcett did... Copying her hairstyle required a curling iron, several cans of Aqua Net hairspray and a lot of time on your hands...

The Bee Gees during the disco era

Even men's hairstyles were, in certain cases, quite attractive. In some cases (think Barry Gibb, the guy on the middle in the picture on the right) the men had nicer hair than some of the women! Though in the case of good old Barry here... adding the beard made him look a bit like Jesus Christ... As for the other Gibbs pictured here... what can I say. The attractive men's styles of the times just didn't work for them.
Though there were some bad styles, just like in every era. The difference being, even a bad style wasn't considered as such.
Remember Barbie's boyfriend Ken...? Imagine if that sculpted plastic hair were more like real hair and you have one of the less attractive styles of the times. The same goes for Michael Brady's "man perm" accessorized by the cheesy mustache, all of which made him look like a retro porn star. Bad looks they may have been, but at the time they were considered the "in" thing. Lucky break for my father, who had naturally curly hair and didn't have to pay for the "man perm" (I have pictures to prove that horror, too).
Even women had some horrible styles... The worst of these would be what I consider the "white girl's fro"... Imagine a HUGE pile of cottony, frizzy, curly hair surrounding a dwarfing the head of a white girl... Not a look that could be pulled off by anyone. Though, back in the day, even such unruly hair was considered a style and an attractive one at that.
"Having a bad hair day...? No problem, man, this is the 70's! There are no bad hair days!"

I'm thinking that's a mindset we should adopt in every era...

The popular star/sunburst clock

And then there's the nostalgia...
Starburst/Sunburst clocks were a popular item found on walls back in the 1960's and 1970's that, strangely, seem to be a popular item for those wish to own a piece of nostalgia.
Prime example is the clock in the picture on the left... When I was young, a clock exactly like this one hung on the wall in our living room. I always loved that clock...

(left-right) Paula Janis, Sherlock the squirrel and Carole Demas

One particular day in my youth, I found that my mother had taken the clock off the wall and had added it to the pile of things being set out for the trash. I was devastated! One of my favorite things in our house, something I had an unexplained affection for, was being thrown out for being outdated and no longer in working condition. And, being the strange child I was, took the clock when she wasn't looking and hid it in my closet in hopes that, one day, I could get it repaired. If nothing else, I figured I'd have a nice decoration for the home I would one day have. Amazingly, the clock began working on its own one day and now graces my own living room wall.
Imagine my surprise, when looking for a picture of the same clock, to not only find the exact one I possess, but to learn the cost of it as a nostalgic piece is $160! I guess the saying about one man's trash being another man's treasure is true...
But nostalgia is more than material possessions...
Memories are the best form of nostalgia... One of my favorite memories that is overflowing with nostalgia is of sitting in front of our old floor model television watching one of my favorite shows, The Magic Garden... Paula and Carole in their pigtails, sitting on swings or toadstools, strumming guitars and singing catchy tunes like "The Hello Song", "My Little Rooster" and "See Ya"... A patch of giggling daisies dubbed the "Chuckle Patch" that told jokes and a pink squirrel puppet named Sherlock... It may sound lame to the younger generation, but back then, this show was like the Holy Grail of young children's programming.

That's how I retro...

"Do the Hustle..."

I Has Gone Bats!

Too funny...

Bats... I have a feeling many of you are squirming just from the mere mention of these winged mammals... Sadly, these poor guys have gotten some bad PR over the years.

Hanging out...

Some people dislike bats because they think they're nothing more than mice or rats with wings. Surprisingly (according to Wikipedia), bats aren't related to rodents, or birds, for that matter. Actually, bats aren't closely related to any other mammal. They seem to be in a class all their own, a very unique species that has been given a bad rep over the years... with the exception of Batman, that is... 

So... lets talk about bats...
Over the centuries, there have been quite a lot of myths about bats... The most obvious of these being their association with witches and warlocks, black magic and things of a Halloween-ish nature. People who practice witchcraft and black magic were said to use bats in their ghoulish potions... Now how could you put something so cute into a pot of boiling ooze...? Obviously these were just myths, though I'm sure there were more than a few people interested in the black arts that gave it a go at some point...
They've also been associated with ghosts, death and disease.. In all honesty, I can understand the association to death and disease as many wild mammals fall prey to rabies, not to mention that they can carry lice and other parasites. But as for the believe that bats are disembodied spirits or representatives of the underworld, it's nothing more than crazy tales made up by superstitious people.
Bats have also been associated with the mythical vampire. I'm not claiming that vampires don't exist... actually it's quite the opposite. Vampires do exist, but only in their own minds, however. There are people in this world that lead a vampiric lifestyle, from being primarily nocturnal to drinking blood on occasion. Though they're not vampires like Bela Lugosi in the Dracula movies, they are, in their own minds, the real deal.
And let us not forget the famed old wive's tale that warns us bats will try to tangle themselves in your hair and suck your blood. Yes, some bats do drink blood from insects and other mammals. But when a bat comes dive-bombing your head, it's more than likely due to their radar detecting an insect somewhere close to your head. Trust me when I say they're not freaky little winged kamikaze pilots. If a bat is taking a dive at your head, it's either an insect is near you or their radar is broken...  

Though not all PR bats have gotten is bad... Chinese lore claims bats are a symbol of happiness and longevity. In other cultures, it is believed to be a symbol of good luck. And let us not forget the popular hero, Bruce Wayne, who dressed as his greatest fear and began fighting crime as Batman.

"It's so fluffy I'm gonna die!!!"

Bats are actually quite interesting creatures, once you read up on them... And if these little pudgy fur-balls at the left don't convince you, think of it this way... Without creatures like bats (also frogs, spiders...) the world would be literally overrun with a wide variety of unpleasant things... like mosquitoes... I'll take a furry bat over a large, itchy welt any day.

I, personally, am fond of bats... When I was growing up, there were a lot of trees surrounding the area that were littered with bats in the summer. They were forever flying around, diving too close to heads for that person's comfort (except where I was concerned, that is).
I also had the advantage of a... strange... family.  
My grandmother was a rather interesting woman... She had a physically debilitating disease and couldn't get around well, but she had spunk... Every summer, a few bats would end up flying down the chimney into the temporarily unused furnace, out the furnace door and into the house. It never failed, the bats would end up flying into the downstairs bathroom while my grandmother was in there. This was probably why she kept a fly swatter in the bathroom... When a bat would fly in the room, she would wield the swatter, smack the little bat with the swatter and knock it into the toilet which she would promptly flush, sending the poor little thing out into the septic tank.
I remember, in her more immobile years, my mother and I having to go to her house to remove yet another poor, unfortunate bat. My mother had armed herself with a tennis racket while I followed her through the house, begging and pleading with her to allow me to catch the "poor little thing" so it could be released outside. The final score was my mom:1 myself and the bat:0...

Bats, currently, are endangered, especially in the US where a fungal infection called White Nose Syndrome, which has been the cause of more than half of the bats in the country. I hope one day the populous will support finding a cure and helping save these poor, misunderstood creatures...         

SQUONK!

Image of the Squonk from folklore

Genesis version of the Squonk

Out of boredom, I decided to Google the word "Squonk"... Much to my surprise, there was a lot more than meets the eye to the song on Genesis' A Trick Of The Tail album...
                                                                           

Squonk and hunter from "A Trick Of The Tail" album

See this pathetically sad, weeping creature that looks a bit like a Shar Pei with warts...? This is what's known as a "Squonk", a legendary creature that was supposed to have lived in the Hemlock forests of northern Pennsylvania. So they say, it has ill-fitting skin, warts and blemishes, so it hides from plain sight and spend much of its time weeping... I'd weep, too, if I was this damned fugly... Legend also states that, when it's cornered by a hunter, it evades capture by dissolving into a pool of tears and bubbles...
This kind of makes one wonder what in the hell were these people of long ago smoking... I mean, really. The legends and mythical creatures of past ages all sound like they were hallucinated while in the depths of one helluva freak-ass acid trip. They go above and beyond a Lucy In The Sky With Diamonds moment...

In all honesty, until I did a Google search, I thought that "Squonk" was merely the title of a really strange song by the rock/pop group Genesis (who happens to be one of my two favorite groups of all time). Imagine my surprise that this was not something simply concocted from a pot smoking haze... The song is actually about this creature of lore.
Though their version (or that of the person who created the album art) of the creature makes it look a bit different than the fugly wart covered Shar Pei looking thing. Take a look at the pictures above, taken from the album. The "Squonk" looks more like an adorably ugly cross between a giant kangaroo rat and a bat... And I must say, adding the handkerchief for this weepy little guy was a really nice touch.
Off note, I recommend this album. My favorite tunes on this particular album are "Robbery, Assault and Battery", "Ripples" and "A Trick Of The Tail". They're definitely worth the listen!

Mind you, this wasn't really just a random Google search for a really weird word... Actually, this was prompted by my younger cat, Sebastian.
I have this strange habit of grabbing my cats' heads and giving a very light squeeze. This habit began with my late cat, Brandy. I used to do this weird head squeezing thing with her and when I did, I used to shout "SQUONK!!!!"... If you're wondering, I did this because it was a funny word and just kind of popped out the one time I squeezed her head... In any case, when I did this to my cat today, I didn't say "Squonk"... In fact, I haven't "Squonked" a cat since Brandy passed away. It was my last promise to her and I've never gone back on my word.
But, I can say, at least Sebastian knows what it's like to be "Squonked"... A friend of mine, who I'd known before I even had Brandy, had witnessed my doing this and, in fact, had "Squonked" Brandy herself (and had often told me the reason her head was too small for her body was because I "Squonked" her too much...) Well, on one of her visits, she had "Squonked" Sebastian! I was actually rather happy... I've so wanted to do it to both my cats, but that promise has held me back.
Moral of the story... Good friends will "Squonk" your cat even if you can't...
Over and out...

The Japanese Craze

The Vapors were turning Japanese...

When The Vapors first suspected they were "Turning Japanese" back in the early 1980's, it wasn't exactly a sign of the times. In fact... this song isn't about a fetish with the Japanese culture at all. It's been rumored (and denied by the singer of the band in a VH1 interview) that it's a song about masturbation, which has provided some interesting debates on the meaning behind the lyrics.

Now Kirsten Dunst is, too...

But no matter what the true meaning was, the phrase "turning Japanese" wasn't a description of the culture in any of the English speaking countries back then. But today... that's another matter...

In the world today (more than 20 years later... yikes... scary thought that so much time has passed), that same phrase literally describes not only English speaking countries but countries all over the world. The Japanese culture has literally become a craze worldwide. And so the video for the remake of that old tune by actress Kirsten Dunst depicts... Not only is it shot in the city streets of Japan, giving a fairly good view of the culture, Kirsten herself also gives us a good view of the culture and their practice of cosplaying (dressing up to look like an anime or manga character, sometimes some other popular icon). In the video, she sports a cerulean blue, long haired wig (as you can see in the above picture) that makes her look a bit like the vocaloid program character of Hatsune Miku...   

Perhaps the big question is... why...? What has caused the Japanese culture to be a worldwide craze...?
It's an question that has a wide variety of theoretical answers...
One reason for the craze could be the access to Japanese cartoons (anime) and comics (manga). Thirty to forty years ago, Japanese programs outside their own country was limited to Godzilla movies, anime such as Speed Racer and Kimba, and shows like Ultraman. Granted, there were a few other programs, but they weren't exactly widely aired. It's a major difference between those days long ago and today. Today, not only is there a wide variety of anime aired on television, but it can also be viewed on the internet. Anime and manga has become so popular, in fact, that many of the cartoons and comics in the US have become "wannabes", having the look and feel of those media, but still falling short in some way.
Or maybe the fetish stems from the fact that the Japanese view certain things differently... When young people here dress uniquely or dye their hair rainbow colors, they're looked at as if they're freaks of nature. Yet most of those young people wouldn't even get a second glance in Japan. They seem to be more tolerant of certain displays of individuality.

The one part of the culture that has, surprisingly, not caught on with the ferocity of a plague is music. To a degree, some music has gained popularity in other countries due to anime and their theme songs. But, as a whole, the population of Japanese music fans isn't vast in English speaking countries. In fact, the only song to be on the US charts that was sung in Japanese was the old 1960's tune "Sukiyaki" (original Japanese title "Ue o Muite Arukō") by Kyu Sakamoto. That's actually sad, since there are so many talented musicians and beautiful songs from Japan. I've always believed music was universal and the feeling could be understood even if the lyrics could not.

Photo of the tickets I bought for the concert

A photo I snapped with my phone during the show

Though that doesn't mean that all Japanese music is obscure in the US. On March 25th, 2012, the J-rock band, L'Arc~en~Ciel, became the first Japanese band to headline the main arena at Madison Square Garden  in New York City. And... lucky bugger that I am... I actually got to be part of history myself that night, having attended that most phenomenal concert, as you can see from the photos of my tickets and the view of the stage from where I sat. It was the most fantastic experience of my life that I will remember always!

My collection of Japanese kokeshi dolls

Personally, I've been fascinated with the Japanese culture my whole life, ever since I was old enough to be able to tell the difference between cultures. And, along with anime I watched back in the day, I also had managed to have some items from Japan... A family member had brought back a beautifully embroidered pillow that I still have to this day. My grandmother also had a very old, child sized kimono that I wore on quite a few Halloweens to dress up as a geisha (and won most original costume at a party once). So for myself, the fascination was fed by other things for a very long time.
Admittedly, anime and manga are two of my biggest fetishes of Japanese culture, but that's understandable since that's the style of art I've always preferred to work in and one I'm fairly good at. I never felt like much of an oddball for my fascination until the day I developed a major interest in the music. But, over the years, I've embraced my eccentricity as one of the best parts of my personality. And the Japanese culture fever that seems to be becoming more widespread makes being a bit different easier to embrace.

Who knows... in another few years, other countries may learn to be as unique as Japan...
We can only hope...

Mental Illness and Cats: The Connecting Tie

Sebastian and his obscene tail

kyoki in the wastebasket

As proof that there is a link between mental illness and cats... I have decided to post pictures of my own cats, whom, I have decided, are more than a few fries short of a Happy Meal... to say the least...

Let me introduce you to the little fuzz brains...
Sebastian is my seven month old, long haired male. He's overly energetic when he's awake, sleeps like the dead when he naps, and is a very non-affectionate creature. And he has the strangest obsession with his tail... Granted, it's a beautiful tail... It's longer than his body and is so fluffy a plume that it almost looks like a raccoon tail. It's definitely something he should be proud of. But the way he feels about it crosses the line between pride of it and a fetish for it. He's constantly preening it, hugs it when he sleeps and has this bizarre habit of covering his  "junk" with it when he sits or lays down.
kyoki (non-capitalized, is the Japanese word for "lunacy") is my nine year old, tortie female. She's overly affectionate to the point of being obnoxious, has difficulty learning discipline, but is generally a pleasant cat to have around. She also has this quirk... Every time the bag in the wastebasket gets replaced, she absolutely has to jump into the basket. Not especially unusual for cats, but still a strange habit none the less.

I am, at this point, thoroughly convinced that cats live in this perpetual state that's something akin to an acid trip... I've often seen my cats stalking absolutely nothing at all with the stealth of a jungle cat (or ninja) and pounce on these imaginary objects. At times, I've had a feeling of discomfort, only to look up to see one of the cats staring at a spot either above or behind me, leading me to believe there's something there. But, upon looking at the same area, I find nothing. Either my cats hallucinate or their grand mater plan is to make me look stupid. I'm not sure which is true...
Many times I've been the victim of failed murder attempts... Countless times, I've stepped back and found myself almost falling over as I try to not step down hard on one of them. Other times I've had one of them either run in front of me or lay in a dark area where they can't be seen so that I trip over them. And, more often than not, these failed murder attempts take place on the stairs.
I often wonder what runs through their furry, peach pit-sized brains at these times...

I have heard that cats always have one foot in the living world and one foot in Hell, which is why they can be used as a gateway to travel between the two... I'm beginning to think this is true. At the very least, it would explain why cats were, at one time, thought to be witches' familiars.

If cats were humans, I have a feeling they would all be diagnosed as being psychopaths...

Two Classic Movies To See This Halloween

The Half Man Johnny Eck

Pinhead Simon Metz aka Schlitzie

Halloween... the time when horror and sci-fi movies all come crawling out of the woodwork and onto various television channels. Who hasn't watched a movie starring the characters of Freddy Kruger, Jason Voorhees or Mike Myers...? Or a dark and foreboding Stephen King movie...? Or one of the Hellraiser movies starring the character Pinhead...?

But, for a change... How about a movie starring a real pinhead...?

Tod Browning's Freaks may not be a horror movie in the sense that they are today, but back in 1932 it was considered a "pre-code" horror film. Aptly so, since most of the "freaks" either frightened or out-right disgusted movie goers.
The tale tells the story of a group of circus performers, only two of whom are normal in appearance. One of the so-called "freaks" is a midget named Hans who is in love with the "normal" female performer dubbed Cleopatra. Cleopatra is quite the bitch, poking fun at Hans and the other freaks until she learns Hans has inherited a great deal of money. Suddenly, her demeanor towards him changes (obviously she's a gold-digger) and, seeing his chance at happiness, Hans proposes and she accepts. The two are married and the freaks, being kind of heart, decide to accept the cruel Cleopatra into their ranks. But being married to a freak doesn't suit Cleopatra... Unbeknownst to anyone, she begins to slowly poison the poor, naive Hans, hoping to kill him to gain his inheritance and run off with the strong man.
But the freaks aren't stupid... They know something is amiss and, after a bit of spying, learn of Cleopatra's doings... They decide to get revenge, end up chasing her through the woods and converging on her. The next you see Cleopatra, she's a half woman, half duck side-show freak.

It isn't the plot the makes the movie anything even remotely close to a horror film. What makes it so are the freaks... Above are two of the stars of Freaks, Johnny Eck and Simon Metz (aka Schlitzie). These are not a result of trick photography... These are real "freaks" of nature. Eck was one of two twins that was born without anything below the rib area. Though, after reading up on him, it seems it wasn't a misfortune in his eyes...
Metz was born with microcephaly, a neurodevelopmental disorder. In the movie, they were referred to as "pinheads" due to the small structure of their heads.

Though not technically a horror movie, it's still a must see for Halloween, if for no other reason than to see real life oddities.

Carey Grant in Arsenic and Old Lace

Grant as Mortimer and his murdering aunts

 Another must see for Halloween is the 1944 film, Arsenic and Old Lace starring Carey Grant.
Creepy as it is comedic, this classic movie is a perfect movie for the Halloween.

Set on Halloween in Brooklyn, New York, the story tells the tale of a writer named Mortimer Brewster who has written several books about marriage, dubbing it "old fashioned superstition". Yet he marries the girl next door on Halloween day in secret. After the vows are taken, they both go to their respective homes to pack for the honeymoon and tell their respective families of their union. However, things don't go well for Mortimer when he arrives home to tell his two adorably sweet spinster aunts and his insane brother (who thinks he's Teddy Roosevelt).
When Mortimer opens the lid to the window seat, he finds a dead body inside. At first he assumes his brother Teddy killed the man while in the grips of some delusion. However, he learns that his spinster aunts, Abby and Martha, are actually the ones responsible. The two, sweet little old ladies have a room for rent that usually attracts lonely old bachelors with no family. The aunts tell Mortimer that it's one of their "charities", putting these men out of their suffering of loneliness by serving them elderberry wine spiked with arsenic, strychnine and cyanide (I bet that wine packs a real punch). Once put out of their misery, the aunts have Teddy take the poor soul down into the basement, where he believes he's digging locks for the Panama Canal, to be buried as an unfortunate victim fallen prey to yellow fever.
As if this news hasn't whipped poor Mortimer up into enough of a frenzy... To make matters worse, his murdering brother, Johnathan shows up with a stiff of his own and an alcoholic plastic surgeon, Dr. Einstein (played by Peter Lorre). He's on the lamb and decides the aunt's home is the perfect place to dump the stiff and have the good doctor change his appearance. But things don't go according to plan... In a drunken stupor, Dr. Einstein reinvents Johnathan's face to resemble Boris Karloff's and the aunt's make a fuss about having someone they consider a "stranger" and a "foreigner" buried along with their nice, lonely old gentlemen.
All the while, Mortimer is trying frantically to keep the situation under control and having more than a little difficulty. But who wouldn't if they were trying to keep their kindly, murdering aunts from getting caught, getting their insane brother committed to an institution and keep their murderous brother from killing them? And all the while, having their new spouse growing more and more tired of waiting to begin their honeymoon... Not to mention the fear of becoming insane like the rest of the Brewster family. It's Mortimer's frantic state that really provides the comedy in the film...
In the end, Johnathan gets arrested, Teddy gets committed to the asylum and the aunts, not wanting him to go alone, decide to join him (which is where they should be anyway). But before they go, the aunt's inform Mortimer that there's no fear of him becoming insane... He's not a Brewster, he's the son of a sea cook, which he then happily exclaims to his new bride and whisks her off for their honeymoon.

In this age of wanting terrors, blood, guts and gore in our horror films, we tend to forget the classics that provide a bit of horror in their own way. Sad but true... Thankfully, there are still some of us who can appreciate these wonderful old movies.

Morlocks vs. Eloi

The cannibalistic Morlocks

The naive Eloi

First off... how messed up is the spell check feature...?! It questions the spelling of Morlocks, but not the spelling of Eloi in the post title...! That's... kind of messed up...

But, then again, so is the title itself... It sounds a bit like a new version of a Street Fighter game...

For those unfamiliar with H.G Wells The Time Machine or the movie based upon the book (the original from 1960 with Rod Taylor, not the goofy new one), allow me to illuminate you...


The story is the tale of a man, a scientist of sorts,  named George who has a fixation with time and the idea of time travel. The tale starts in the last day of 1899 and the first few days of the new century. George shows off his prototype time machine to a group of his friends, most of whom are quite arrogant (Sebastian Cabot plays one of them, so that should give you an idea)  and even though the prototype works and actually time travels, his friends (with the exception of his best friend, Filby) aren't impressed and think George is a bit off his rocker. That sets the poor guy off a bit and he decides to test the actual real deal that he has built in his laboratory. He sits in the time machine and pushes the lever forward, slowly...
By far, this sequence is the best in the movie. Granted, the graphics were awful (it was 1960, what do you expect?) but it was the idea of how he travels. As George is moving forward in time, he's able to see things moving around him, so he literally gets to see time fly. He travels through WWI, WWII and a nuclear war... The latter war causes eruptions, lava flowing up over the time machine... Thankfully, George is traveling so fast that he doesn't get burned but, rather, gets trapped inside the mountain the cooled lava produced until it eroded away. It's really a cool segment of the movie.
George finally stops the time machine, a bit too quickly for it spins and throws him off, on October 12th in the year 802,701... I think H.G. Wells was a bit optimistic, assuming that, after a nuclear holocaust, there would still be people that survived and were able to continue to reproduce for so many years without adverse effects...
In any case...
At this point, humans have developed into two different groups, the Morlocks (those attractive blue dudes in the picture above) and the Eloi (the stereotypical perfect blonde haired, blue eyed people in the other picture) who are as different as night and day. And it's this difference that has produced some profound, yet ridiculously random, thoughts...

I wanna be a Morlock...

I'm not saying I want to be some ugly blue dude with bad teeth and saggy, baggy man boobs (they all appear to be male in the movie) that are constantly having a really bad hair day... But if my only choice was to be one or the other, I'd much rather be a Morlock...
And I'll explain why...
The Eloi are rather indifferent about everything. If one is in danger of losing their lives (like the only named Eloi in the story, Weena, played by Yvette Mimieux, who was drowning when George first arrives) the other Eloi just turn the other cheek and choose to ignore what's going on. They're very naive and totally clueless as to... well... anything. They have no real clue as to what happened in the world years ago, save what these talking rings tell them, and comprehend nothing.
They also allow themselves to be eaten by the Morlocks...
The Morlocks, obviously, are cannibals. Every so often, they set off a siren (more specifically, the kind that warns of a nuclear air strike) and the Eloi, conditioned to move underground when they hear the siren, walk as if in a trance to the entrance to the Morlocks' underground habitat and go inside. When the Morlocks have enough Eloi, they close the doors and those who went inside never come back out.

The Eloi are dumb as posts... They do nothing all day but lay around in the sun. They have no clue where they get their food and clothing from, nor do they care. It shows up when they need it and that's all that matters to them. They're very naive and moronic.
But the Morlocks... they're smart, chubby cookies... They're the ones providing everything the Eloi need to live, keeping them ignorant and happy. It's a lot like us breeding animals for consumption. And once they're nicely fattened up, the Morlocks turn on the siren and call the Eloi to them to become Eloi-kabobs...
No offense, if it comes down to choosing to eat or be eaten... I'm gonna eat...

I wonder if Eloi are a low-cholesterol food...

Nevermore...

Edgar Allan Poe

John Cusack as Poe

"I heed not that my earthly lot

Hath little of earth in it--

That years of love have been forgot

In the hatred of a minute:--

I mourn not that the desolate

Are happier, sweet, than I,

But that you sorrow for my fate

  Who am a passer by."

    ("To---" by E.A.Poe)

The above poem, "To---", is my all-time favorite written by the master of the macabre, Edgar Allan Poe...

Every year, when the leaves begin to change colors and the air turns crisp, my thoughts start turning to one of my two favorite holidays... Halloween... And with thoughts of Halloween comes this overwhelming desire to curl up under a nice warm blanket with my book, Complete Tales and Poems of Edgar Allan Poe... Not surprising since he was, for lack of a better term, the founding father of the macabre and tales of dark things, the very thing that the holiday of Halloween is based upon.

Poe's tales are certainly an acquired taste not had by many, back then and even today.
I think that, in order to at least appreciate if not enjoy Poe's works, one must enjoy dark, macabre stories and also be of an above average level of intelligence. At times, his tales are certainly difficult to read, with the vast vocabulary and mile long sentences, something that few of the masses back in his time had the education  to comprehend.
And, of course, the masses today have some level of difficulty reading his tales due to the change in patterns of speech over time. That kind of goes without saying...

As for myself... Poe is one of my favorite authors. And so, every year around Halloween, I get this overwhelming desire to read these dark tales of mystery and death. In fact, I look forward to this tradition every year, ever since I bought that beat up old book years ago. I've read almost every tale and poem and have read my favorites dozens of times over, sometimes at various times of the year. So I guess you could say I'm a bit of a Poe addict...

Recently, a movie came out in theaters called "The Raven", starring John Cusack. The plot line is a murder mystery, a tale of a serial killer who fashions all his crimes after the murders in Poe's stories. The police hire Poe (played by John Cusack) to help them solve these mystery murders, hoping he'll have the insight to do so since they're all based on his tales. The movie also offers another interesting view of the reason for Poe's mysterious death.
For me, a Poe-aholic and a huge fan of John Cusack, the news of one of my favorite actors starring in a movie where he'll portray one of my favorite authors fit in the fan-girly nose bleed category. Poe wasn't exactly a handsome man (perhaps for his time he was, however) but John Cusack is quite attractive, even done up to closely resemble the man he was portraying. And after seeing the movie, I can tell you, if you are a fan of either man, you won't be disappointed.

I have to say... I feel a bit of sympathy for Poe... He was something of a mad genius and, as most of us know, mad geniuses are, more often than not, completely misunderstood and isolated...

Did you hear that...?
It sounds like "the beating of that hideous heart"...
Tread lightly... or you may find yourself walled up in catacombs or buried alive...

And if you find yourself on a dreary night, nodding, nearly napping and you hear a sound as if someone is rapping... Don't open your chamber door...
Or you may find yourself faced with a dark, feathery house guest...

"Nameless here forever more..."

 

How Bizarre...

While doing a Google search for something this morning, I came across something most bizarre...

Take a good look at this Victorian era photo of the gentleman standing next to the chair...
Are you thinking, "Gee, he looks a bit disheveled for a man from that era"? Or maybe you're thinking his stance is a bit off, like perhaps he has some sort of muscular or skeletal issue... Maybe you're thinking he was three sheets to the wind at the time and that's why he's standing a bit cock-eyed...
Or maybe you're thinking that he was one hell of an unattractive man...
Well, I should hope you find him unattractive...

After all.... he was dead when this photo was taken...

Now, this has got to be the most bizarre and disturbing thing I've ever inadvertently come across while doing a Google search. And what's, quite possibly, even more bizarre and disturbing is that there seem to be a large number of people who are strangely fascinated with this macabre practice of post-mortem  photography.

The big question is... WHY?!? What in God's name were these people thinking?!?
Well... Wikipedia actually has an article on this bizarre practice that can be read here. I'm not sure it sheds any light on the subject as to why they did something so... ghoulish... It's said that these photos (called daguerreotype, which I myself own a few of these as well as the following process photos called tintypes) served as memorial pieces to remember the deceased... They would pose the corpse accordingly, prop their eyes open, then take the photo. Afterward, they would sometimes paint on rosey cheeks and pupils (due to the eyes clouding over after death, which you can see in the photos that were not touched up after the fact). Really...? Eww... I mean... just... eww...

Honestly, I don't understand this at all. Why the hell would you want a photo of a dead person?! Granted, I'm sure some of the people weren't able to get photos taken while they were alive due to cost or the time frame when photography became popular... but I personally don't want my last memory of a person to be of them as a corpse. Not to mention that I think it's a bit disrespectful to stand a body up and prop its eyes open for a photo. They even had a device just for the occasion of propping up the body (see diagram on the right)... Really...?!? That kind of went above and beyond the realm of macabre, folks...
And if you need evidence that they really did use such a thing, take another look at the photograph above. You can see the base of the device by his feet.
On the other hand, I can understand better the reason why they took such photos of infants and small children. As the Wikipedia article stated, the post-mortem photos were probably the only ones they had ever gotten taken of them. Understandable you would want at least one picture of your child to remember them by (which are the most disturbing to be viewing, in my opinion). As the article states, this was common with infants and young children because the mortality rate of them during this era was extremely high...
Well of course it was! The mind set during the Victorian era was that children should be seen and not heard and parents often doped their children up with Laudanum to keep them quiet. You had to expect a few... thousand... deaths with practices like that.

Moral of the story is this... people in the Victorian era may have build large, beautiful, ornate houses and made beautiful furniture and clothing, but, for all intents and purposes, they were, as a whole, a helluva lot more than just a few fries short of a Happy Meal...

Could there be a more apt true tale for the Halloween season...?

You are an Obsession, You're my Obsession...

Trend Scratch n Sniff Stickers

Truer words from the 80s were never spoken... And this was and is mine...

Scratch n Sniff stickers...

Back in the late 1970s and early 1980s, companies like Mello Smello and Trend pumped out sheets upon sheets of this awesome invention. A simple looking sticker with some funny cartoon animal or object wasn't anything to jump up and shout about, but... when you scratched or rubbed the sticker... Suddenly, your nose was filled with the scent of spearmint... or fried chicken... or skunk... Yes, those of you not old enough to remember this incredible fad, they even had a skunk scented sticker (see the first image above), a shoe scented sticker... One company made one that smelled like gasoline. Makes you wonder why in the hell they thought young children would want to smell those things...

But I digress...

For me, the obsession all started with one little spearmint scented sticker. As a matter of fact, it was the frog sticker shown above, the very first scratch n sniff sticker I ever received, that began what turned into a fetish.  The very day I got that sticker, I insisted my mom take me out to find more of these wonderous things. 

Before I knew it, I had about a half dozen books (one an 8x10" size) so filled with these stickers that there wasn't even a bit of the actual page showing. 

Sadly, as it always is in the case of remakes, the newer scratch n sniff stickers today aren't the same... The types of scents are very few, not as strong and the pictures not as imaginative or cute. It's disconcerting...

However... vintage stickers like these above can still be found on websites like ebay and Etsy. I myself have bought a few of these amazing stickers from ebay and am happy to report... they still smell as fabulous after all these years...

But while these sites do have a vast cornucopia of vintage scratch n sniffs, there are still those that seem to slip from my grasp... 

Trend, for a time, made larger and more shapely stickers than the smaller circular ones. For example... the picture on the above right... This is a set of six cat themed scratch n sniffs made by Trend. The sticker in the lower right corner, the cat with the pitcher upturned on its head, was one of my all-time favorites. I can't tell you how much time I spent scratching that sticker and placing my nose right up against the sticker so as to not let one whiff of the sweet cream scent escape me. 

It was difficult enough to find this tiny image of the sticker... Finding it for sale, it seems, is damned near impossible. But I won't give up the search. Such is the curse of the obsessed... 

And of the sticker sniffers...

 

The Root Of All Evil...

Pocket Frogs

Sometimes a smart phone is such a dumb thing to have... especially for people of an addictive nature... like myself...

My latest addiction is a "game" (for lack of a better term) called "Pocket Frogs". I'm not sure you can call it a game since it really requires no skills other than touching lily pads and making your horny little frogs breed (then, if you wish, sell the frogs or their offspring). But, technically, it's classified as a game and something that gaming skill inept people like me can manage to get somewhere with. That, in itself, makes this an amazing app for your phone.

However, there is a downside... Actually, there are a few downsides. One downside is that the little frogs are  so damned cute and, except for the very simple ones, have the coolest colors and markings. That doesn't sound like a downside, but it is. You're only able to keep eight frogs in each habitat and you start out with only two (if you count the nursery for the little frog eggs). Granted, you earn coins as you play and those can be used to buy more habitats (at an increasingly hefty rate) but they still only hold eight frogs each... and it's tough choosing which to keep! This game has me so absorbed that I play it a good portion of the time. Damn these adorable, colorful frogs and their bizarre hold over me! They are truly the root of all evil...

Was that entertaining...? I'm hoping someone out there is nodding... because, after all, isn't that the purpose of having an internet blog? It's not just a place for you to pour out whatever is on your mind. If that was all a person wanted to do, there are journals (actual books) and journal software for that.

I think people make blogs to not only jot down what's on their minds but to also entertain others with such thoughts. Some may blog about their personal lives, some about art, some about intellectually stimulating things... Then there are people like me who blog about nothing in particular, just a random assortment of thoughts, sometimes a mix of all the things other people blog about. But that's just me... I like to mix things up a bit on a regular basis...

Hopefully everyone will find something they can enjoy on here...