Eliza put out a call for suggestions and the Ectomite Hive Mind responded with a bevy of bizarre links and nostalgic requests leaving us with a hodge-podge of old childhood favorites and surreal art-house films. Thanks to everyone who took the time to post and if you don’t see your contribution here, rest assured it will make an appearance in the very near future. Now, go Ectomomites! TO THE JUMP!
The Bureau of Labor Statistics reports that in 2007 64% of high school graduates enrolled in college. For a multitude of reasons I have never been one of their ilk. Yet I’m told that college is a place to broaden one’s horizons; to learn new things and experience things you might not otherwise have experienced in your isolated pre-post-secondary schooling world, a place to question ideals long held as true and expand upon one’s own repertoire of knowledge. A kindergarten for the real world if you will, but with liquor and venereal diseases.
Apparently the hordes of apple-cheeked co-eds fueling this idea are all acting as agents of subversion and deceit; sowing falsehoods throughout society in an attempt to create a society of unquestioning automatons adequately prepared for the endless toil of an office. But only after being bilked out of thousands of dollars.
Thankfully, there are people like Miss Priya Venkatesan working from within the system to undo this previously obfuscated treachery.
Today is a momentous day, loyal ectomites. A day for celebration and the playing of blasphemous flutes, for on this day millennia ago, the universe shat out the ageless, unholy entity which would come to be known as Eliza Gauger; although this is only an approximation of “her” true name which requires at least five mouths to pronounce correctly.
Street of Crocodiles: A grotesquely gorgeous bit of stop motion animation by the Brothers Quay, twin film-makers whose reptilian creation was noted as one of the best animated films of all time by Terry Gilliam.
Black Cat Bonzai: Honestly, I’m not entirely certain about the title, but all you really need to understand is that Mickey Mouse is an asshole, pure and simple.
Botched: Just another day at Ectomo H.Q.
Solar: A lonesome clockwork skiff drifts through the milky heavens going through the motions of an endless celestial cycle.
Overtime: A vaguely disturbing tribute to Muppet creator Jim Henson. Kermit is far, far more disturbing without pupils.
Haptics: A disturbingly accurate look at the future of man-breasts. Remain vigilant breastless men, it’s up to you to save us from this horrifying fate.
Rockfish: A new life awaits you in the Off-World colonies. The chance to begin again in a golden land of opportunity and adventure…New climate, recreational facilities…absolutely free. Well…sort of.
Before you is the culmination of all my post-apocalyptic, cyberpunk fashion dreams. Oh sure, my compatriots and I clothe ourselves in all manner of garb designed with futurelust in mind, but not a stitch of those epic high-collared wardrobes is really functional. We’re simply playing dystopian dress-up.
But with this piece by Tim Smit — made of neoprene, lined with kevlar, and seemingly designed with my ilk in mind — we’re really getting into the business of being the no-nonsense, disaffected futuretots we’ve always known ourselves to be.
While it’s not specifically stated that this is just a conceptual design I can’t imagine it’s anything but. Yet simply knowing it exists helps to soothe the hurt of being unable to rush out and buy my first piece of Apocalypse Couture.
Hit the jump for a few more shots of this exquisite design.
Our deepest apologies, dear readers, for having fallen down on the job as of late in regards to one of our most sacred traditions. Needless to say, we are filled with a great sense of shame and assure you it will not happen again. If, in the future, one of us is unable to fulfill their obligations our newly acquired team of Korean animators will leap into action, producing original cartoons for your enjoyment, although in all honesty I personally cannot guarantee this. You see, by “team of Korean animators” I actually mean a Korean family that Eliza met — and subsequently forced into her windowless van — while running errands at Home Depot. They have tried to reason with her, explaining that they are involved in other professions, the father is a salesman for a lighting manufacturer and his wife works as a bank teller. The children are, well, children.
Eliza would hear none of it however, either assuming that they were lying or under the impression that all people of Korean descent have an innate ability to animate. The rest of the staff has done their best to ignore the situation, knowing full well that once Miss Gauger has set her mind on something, one has little chance of ever changing her opinion. It is for this reason that we do nothing when she insists that her aforementioned van has the ability to travel through time or that Qais is, in her words, “a spy sent by space Turks to steal her chocolate secrets.” Regardless it has been uncomfortable, the tired and nervous familial unit has taken up residence in our break room where they were horrified to find only four items : coffee, tea, pipe tobacco, and squid chips. It would be worse when they found out that these items were our sole sources of sustenance. The children, unsurprisingly, did not take well to the tobacco. Perhaps we should send out for food.
Ah well, I’m sure they’ll be fine, besides it’s cartoon time! Click through, loyal Ectomites, and witness their triumphant return!
P.S. Also, remember that if you visit the YouTube page for a particular video you have the option to watch it in high quality. Especially well suited to the anime.
Apparently, the unimaginative dullards at Man’s Life — not content filling the pages of their rag with scintillating tales of sexy, suburban deviants — have begun to pilfer tales from my own life to entertain the hordes of myopic misanthropes that patronize their dubious ilk. It’s been downhill ever since Mogo the Mugger, erudite caveman extraordinaire, left Man’s Life. Though in all fairness, filling the monstrous shoes of that ill-mannered Lothario is no easy task.
The constant struggle against the ever-mounting morass of wires, culminating in a cyclical orgy of power strips and extension cords, is familiar to all of us engaged in the painfully plodding progression of technology. While the number of cords snaking their way throughout our humble shrines to technology decreases exponentially, there are still all manner of power cords that remain, for which you have Edison and his thuggish sense of competition to thank.
While there have been several power strip designs that either attempted to consolidate or obfuscate your Gordian knot of cabling, they simply end up only slightly improved versions of their forebears and the dream of a organized domicile is shattered once more. However, designer Joris Laarman has approached the problem from a different perspective. Instead of developing another means to do away with as much cabling as possible, he has integrated the frustrating coils into his design, a stroke of genius resulting in the Wirepod.
Now this is normally the part of our program where I regrettably inform you that whatever item I’ve been rambling incoherently about is simply a conceptual design and thus unavailable for purchase. But not today my friends, oh no. It is my exquisite pleasure to inform you that Arctecnica will be releasing the Wirepod as part of it’s new line of products, called Wiremore, that seek to expose, rather than hide, our collective rats’ nests. So whether you’re the type that appreciates the decidedly cyberpunk look of cabling criss-crossing the vast expanse of a dank apartment floor, or you simply want a bit of art-snob design added to your abode, Arctecnica have you covered.
Cast A Deadly Spell is the best Lovecraftian film adaptation to date, anyone that argues that point with you either hasn’t seen it or is an imbecile unworthy of your time. The film centers around Phillip J. Lovecraft, a detective in a 1940’s Hollywood where magic and monsters are not only real, but common. Everyone, from housewives to CEO’s use magic, everyone except Phillip J. Lovecraft that is. It is my dubious honor to present you with the film, a favorite of mine for years, in its entirety, for today’s Cthursday thanks to the piratical inclinations of some benevolent soul. Don’t say we never gave you anything.
Is it art? I’m not sure. What I am sure of is that it appears to be a creature out of The Dark Crystal with huge, pendulous testes, hanging from gymnastics rings and covered in stick-pins. Yup, thanks John.
Abdopus aculeatus octopi lead a life of sex, murder, and gender obfuscation but only once. After that they die. Thanks to Jenny and everyone else who sent this one in!
Welcome your new cephalopod masters with a t-shirt. Thanks, Vinnchan.
Hikashu, who appears to have been Japan’s answer to the Talking Heads, sings “Puyo Puyo”. Thanks, bubliki!
The trailer for Angels and Idiots, a new film by animation god Bill Plympton. Thanks, Monkey!
Much to-do has been made about Space Funerals, the honoring of loved ones that have mastered the mortal-coil shuffle through launching their lifeless husks (or the ashes of their lifeless husks) into space. And to be perfectly honest, as an admitted science fiction and space nerd aficionado, the idea has a certain appeal. Just imagine it, your cremains orbiting the planet to bask in the majesty of our big blue mound of dirt and water, or resting on the lunar surface to lazily spin in orbit and take part in the tugging of tides, or even better, simply hurtling through the vastness of space.
Sounds pretty doesn’t it? Well of course it does! We were all raised on this stuff, although to be fair we were raised on the idea that we’d be doing all these things while still living, but considering the deplorable rate of advancement into space it’s no surprise people are simply taking what they can get.
As you know yesterday was Brownlee’s birthday which meant that today I had to take an extra long shower. It’s no use though, no matter how long I scrub I just can’t get clean. In any event here is a nice little animated sandwich of spoof-tastic Fox Kids and Kids’ WB cartoons between two, moist slices of anime. I hope they will entertain you, our loyal readership, and I pray that, perhaps, they will help me to repress the events of last evening. Please, God…
• FLCL: We’ve entered the final half of this spectacular mini-series, and only two more to go. Will you just look at those eyebrows.
•Eek! The Cat and The Terrible Thunderlizards: Eek! did a number of film spoofs during its run and the two that stand out, to me, are “Lord of the Fleas” in which Eek is trapped in a shopping mall with some penguins — one of whom hysterically exclaims “Shut-up, Piggy!” — and this episode entitled “Eekpocalypse Now!, which thoroughly hits upon every major joke one could make about Coppola’s film. This one is for the adults, unless you were an eight year-old who loved movies about Vietnam. The Terrible Thunderlizards was its own show but was later merged with Eek! to create a variety show more like our next two entries.
•Tiny Toons: “A Quack in the Quarks” is the second episode of this seminal show and features a loose parody of Star Wars and a plethora of fourth wall shattering humor. In this episode Plucky Duck is kidnapped by aliens to Planet X to save it from the nefarious plot of Duck Vader. This was the beginning of a real golden age of Warner Brothers cartoons in the late 80s/early 90s that include Animaniacs, Freakazoid, and the Animaniacs spin-off Pinky and The Brain. Oh, and a Watchmen reference!
•Animaniacs “Super Strong Warner Siblings” is a brilliant send-up of the Mighty Morphin’ Power Rangers which always marked the end of cartoon time. Animaniacs also did an Apocalypse Now parody which, while excellent, did not follow the plot as closely as Eek!. Next up is one of the many “Good Idea, Bad Idea” clips followed by my favorite, Pinky and The Brain. In this episode, entitled “Battle for the Planet”, Brain once again acknowledges his Orson Welles influence by attempting to fake an alien invasion ala the Mercury Theater’s broadcast of War of the Worlds.
•Paranoia Agent: Someone has some unpleasant secrets…
John Abraham Brownlee’s journey began in a small hospital a few miles outside the port city of Algiers. His mother, a petite woman and the wife of a cobbler, was said to have been in labor for twelve days prior. It was also said that her screams were so loud that she had to be sequestered so as not to disturb the other patients. At 8:39 pm he finally deigned to emerge from the poor woman’s womb. He weighed 12 pounds 9 ounces, four of which consisted of penis.
Disney’s Silly Symphonies - The Skeleton Dance: A classic cartoon from the days before Disney took to cranking out insipid musical after insipid musical. This is the stuff the very best childhood nightmares are made of, the skeletal remains of the long dead prancing about in a fluid manner that the living could never hope to approach.
The Animal World - Prehistoric Segment: An absolute masterpiece of stop motion animation. Dinosaurs duking it out in what has always been one of my favorite films, which should come as no surprise really; it is Harryhausen after all.
The History of Evil: An adorable, animated mockumentary on the evolution of evil from the days of ancient Greece to present. In a bit of disheartening hilarity, all that seems to have changed from then to now is the costumes the characters wear.
Angel’s Egg: The entree of this Saturday’s cartoon feast, Angel’s Egg is a bit of anime that truly helped shape and forcibly evolve the genre. Somehow in this evolution we’ve gone from stunning works of brilliance, such as Angel’s Egg, that are able to tell heartbreaking tales while remaining light on dialogue, to animation factories cranking out shallow, superficial Saturday morning sweetmeats for the consumption of Western children so hopped up on cereals sugared to the point they could reasonably be classified as a controlled substance.
The power of Ectomo is both wondrous to behold and terrifying to contemplate, as any ectomite knows all too well. Certainly it is a wonder closet of dazzling proportions but it also has a dark and unholy box perched on its top shelf, high up where little ones can’t get to it. Things lurk in this neat little package, things not fit for the minds of man, let alone his spawn.
One must assume, however, that some will find their way into Ectomo’s stash, perhaps when it was left out on the table; after all, these things do happen and the occasional moment of forgetfulness can be forgiven. Not so in this case, however. No, faithful readers, no in this case we must turn our stern eye of judgment toward one Nathan Myers, a gentleman with a wanton disregard for human life and a destroyer of innocence. Mr. Myers is responsible for the most heinous of crimes he has shown his no doubt wonderful and carefree eight year old daughter Ectomo’s secrets and wrought untold damage.
Once exposed to the tentacled, crawling blasphemy contained therein his once lighthearted progeny at once fell into a deep morass of babbling, incoherent madness; her eyes, no doubt, displaying the same dual irises portrayed in In The Mouth of Madness. Her mind shattered, she shuffled off and immediately took up a waxy writing implement and began to work feverishly, trying desperately to put on paper the horror that now assaulted her mind’s eye in a futile attempt to make sense of it.
The product of this sick experiment was this piece, entitled “Sun Goes Like This”. As you can see, clearly the dank recesses of Ectomo have wormed their way into every aspect of the poor little girl’s world, rendering everything a tentacled nightmare. A parade of transmogrified beasts — Shoggoth, perhaps — travel through an empty wasteland under the scorching gaze of a mindless, Cthulhoid sun, led by what appears to be a banished Innsmouth resident upon a R’lyehan death-horse. Truly a bleak and terrible world and a warning to all: the power of Ectoplasmosis is mighty and not to be wielded by those who would prove irresponsible. Take care, Nathan Myers, your daughter’s lost sanity rests on your head.
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.
