And by that I of course mean one Thanksgiving special followed by a group of random, animated detritus. Yes, this week is Thanksgiving — real, American Thanksgiving, not that cheap, Canadian imitation — the day on which we can all stuff ourselves with food until we collapse into a carbohydrate induced coma and after which we begin the long, arduous task of celebrating Christmas for a month.
Also, this is my six hundred and sixty sixth post. Coincidence? Who cares!?
• A Charlie Brown Thanksgiving: I’m of two minds when it comes to Charles Schultz’s creation in both print and on screen. Part of me loathes its saccharine sweet sentimentality and its trite, overtly Christian preaching and another part admires the man’s artistic and creative ability and the cartoons remain firmly fixed in my animated childhood memory. It is perhaps a testament to Peanuts that my usually dominant, cynical side uncharacteristically loses this particular battle.
• Home Movies: “Curses”: I’ve touted my love for Home Movies before so all I will say is if you don’t like it you are insane or brain dead. In this episode our diminutive filmmakers explore the use of foul language and its humorous effects. Make sure to watch out for the hidden surprise right before the credits.
• The Ren & Stimpy Show: The second episode — counting the pilot — featuring the adventures of everyone’s favorite dog and cat. Also featuring Log! I’m sure this will be pulled by the end o the day so get it while it’s hot.
• Dexter’s Laboratory: “Opposites Attract”: Another show that rarely shows up on YouTube and will most surely be pulled. Not the best episode featuring Genndy Tartakovsky’s diminutive mad scientist, but you take what you can get.
•Korgoth of Barbaria: Dear [adult swim], I’m writing to inquire as to what, exactly, is wrong with you. No really, I would like to know why you continue giving asshats like Tim Heidecker and Eric Wareheim money to churn out hours of retarded pap while shelving truly brilliant ideas like Korgoth of Barbaria. If you find men dressing in drag to be that funny, might I suggest you export your Tim & Eric stuff to England, it is my understanding that they too like that sort of thing. Afterwards, you can pull your heads out of your asses and start to produce more shows that are, you know, good. Regards, Ross Rosenberg
My sincerest apologies, ye denizens of the wonderful, monstrous Ecto-Nation, for the deplorable lack of content over the last few days. Your outrage at the passing of a Monday unmoustachioed is, of course, understandable. Had I been able to drag myself to my computer I would have most assuredly fulfilled my duties however, due to the fact that I am a young man in possession of the body of a centenarian, I could not. No, dear readers, the past three days have been spent on my back, the muscles of my lumbar gripping the delicate nerves of my spine in a vise-like death grip. Only through sheer willpower — and 10 milligrams of Cyclobenzaprine — have a been able to lurch over to the keyboard. I pray this will serve as explanation should my normal, typo-laden musings be more…laden…than usual.
That out of the way, on to the clip. The above is an ad for Nike Women featuring Nicola Sanders, who I assume is a runner of some repute and whose organs and muscles all have mouths which they use to spit gibberish at each other. Also, her brain wears a monocle, an image which is so fitting that I dare say I will be unable to look at a brain ever again without superimposing the eyepiece upon it. The whole concept is extremely simple and the animation takes it just far enough into weird territory to work without coming off as horrifying. That’s how it strikes me at least, your unmedicated mileage may vary. Creativity has the hi-res version.
Warren’s wonderfully groomed moustache had served him well in the years previous to his appointment as Commissioner of Police of the Metropolis in 1886, accompanying him in the tunnels under Jerusalem, during the 1877 Transkei War in Africa, and his investigations into the disappearance of Professor Edward Henry Palmer’s archaeological expedition in the Sinai in 1880.
His time as Commissioner was to prove its greatest challenge, however. The Metropolitan Police had degenerated into a sad state under the watch of Sir Edmund Henderson, which didn’t endear it to a city who, since its inception, seemed to loathe its existence purely on principle. For example, officers were required to wear there uniforms at all times, even when at home, for fear that they would act as agent provocateurs if allowed to wear plain clothes. In 1829 an officer by the name of Joseph Granthem was beaten and killed while trying to interrupt a fight between two drunks. His death was ruled a “justifiable homicide” by the jury at the inquest.
Warren would try to improve the force but he would be hampered by constant battles with the Henry Mathews, Secretary of the Home Office throughout his tenure. He would also prove to be quite unpopular with much of the press at the time, and the events in Trafalgar Square on November 13, 1887, known as Bloody Sunday, would turn them against him permanently. It was, to say the least, an uphill battle.
If Bloody Sunday didn’t cement Warren’s place in the history of London then a series of murders in the district known as Whitechapel, by a fiend who would come to be known as Jack the Ripper, beginning on August 31, 1888 would do it instead. The first victim, Mary Anne Nichols, a prostitute, was found in front of a gated stable entrance in Buck’s Row. The second victim, Annie Chapman — born Eliza Ann Smith, also a prostitute — was found on this date in 1888, a Saturday, near a doorway in the back yard of 29 Hanbury Street, Spitalfields. Three more women would be slain before his spree ended in November and neither Sir Charles Warren, nor his elegant moustache, would be able to bring the Ripper to justice.
Now here is an excellent idea for those of us with the inability to adorn our upper lip with a hirsute accessory: a silver, prosthetic moustache. Think of it as a moustache monocle in the style of Tycho Brahe’s famed faux proboscis. Better still, I imagine combining this with an actual monocle, thereby increasing tenfold my ability to look shocked as both my eyepiece and moustache fall from my face when I gasp.
One of my favorite things about Ectomo is the ability of its constituency (that’s you, you grabby little perverts) to self-regulate. Every time I’m tempted to rebuff one of you with a biting retort, I am one-upped:
Oh come on people, this is way longer and more repetitive than it had to be. Just because its popular on youtube at the moment does not make it worth mentioning.
Are you all just that nostalgic for a Disney movie? If so, maybe it would pay to remember that they can be rented and watched at will.
And why has noone brought up the Avalanches? Frontier Psychiatrist has a terrific video, and last I checked they were the obvious kings of [good] sampling.
Even Aphex Twin’s (under some other name I think) R2D2 is alot more fun than this.
SHAME
Comment by The angriest duncan in the world — July 11, 2008 @ 2:12 pm
I agree with the angry guy. Stop enjoying the video! It’s already mainstream (youtube) and it’s made from mainstream parts, therefore not cool!
And almost 3 minutes? Come on, nobody can sit still for that long!
Now excuse me while I drink my coffee and exercise my perfect musical taste.
In sheer defiance of the World Wide Web Consortium's will, Ectomo was designed using a non-web-standard font. Luckily, it is included in the excellent font pack released by the H.P. Lovecraft Historical Society, which can be freely downloaded in Mac and PC formats here. Ectomo should still look fine without it, though.