If, like me, you awake every morning, only to look out the window and let loose a string of blasphemies as you notice that once again the Moon has caught fire, sending down bright, penetrating rays of unholy light into your atrophied retinas then this may clip may instill in you a mixture of rage and confusion.
Why are the people so fucking happy? Why are they singing? Why was that man wearing a catcher’s mask while he slept? Is the African American gentleman with the frozen grin actually going anywhere or is he just wandering in circles, desperate for some camera time? Was that mentally disabled man drooling on everyone’s food? Is there actually a movie entitled Nudist Colony of the Dead?
All of these questions, I’m sure, have answers but in all honesty, it is far too early for me to start formulating answers, so I will leave them with you. Now, to find a few more gallons of coffee and face the day. Blasted fire moon!
After watching this clip of the Ross Sisters’s performance from the 1944 musical Broadway Rhythm one may be forgiven for wondering just what is meant by the phrase “solid potato salad.” You may be thinking that, certainly there is some ulterior meaning here, some sort of perverse inference to be made hinting at an unspeakable taboo; an act unfit for the polite society of your grandparents but universally understood nevertheless. Surely, you might think, they cannot merely be soliloquizing a starchy side dish, no matter how good it may have been.
To this I would respond: does it matter? After watching a trio of lithe nymphets fold themselves in half, does the meaning of such an innocuous phrase still bear contemplation? At the point that a sprightly girl twists and descends like a coiled snake to pluck an apple with her mouth, is innuendo even an issue? I would maintain that, should they have chosen to, they could just as well have read the back of a cereal box and still held the audience’s attention just as effectively.
“This video, while absolutely terrifying from a psychological perspective, is essential for your forthcoming Moustache Monday.”
As this post illustrates, we are in complete agreement with Mr. Gilmore, however, it was only upon careful scrutiny of this clip from Spanish television show Esta noche… Fiesta, that I was struck with an epiphany. Watching those moustachioed dancers — male and female alike, moustachioed — writhe in unison, clad in bold yellow and black attire I realized that I was witnessing a message sent from the past, a portent of things to come. In a moment I understood that I was watching not just a television clip but one of the glorious dance numbers from Ectoplasmosis!: The Musical.
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.
