Author: Biblioklept

The Biblioklept Salute to Eleven Great TV Shows, Not One of Them with Us Today–Part III

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Make yourself proud by checking out Parts I and II.

6. Arrested Development (2003-2006, FOX)

Smart and self-referential without too much clever winking at the audience, Arrested Development was the ultimate meta-sitcom of the mid-oughties. The saga of the Bluth family was brought to life by possibly the best cast on TV ever. Jeffrey Tambor (The Larry Sanders Show) played George Bluth, the scoundrel pater familias to a family of oddballs; when George’s financial shenanigans led to the Bluth Company’s possible downfall, good son Michael (Jason Bateman, Teen Wolf Too) stepped in to take responsibility for the company. Of course, this was no easy task–Michael had to deal with his harridan of a mother Lucille (Jessica Walter, Play Misty for Me) and his selfish siblings: G.O.B. Bluth (performed with genius skill by Will Arnett), twin sister Lindsay (Portia de Rossi), and idiot baby Buster (Tony Hale)–not to mention his wacky brother-in-law, Tobias (David Cross–more on him on a second). At the same time as he must deal with both the besieged family business and his crazy kin, Michael is also trying to win World’s Best Dad with his son George Michael (played with brilliant understatement by Michael Cera, my wife’s big crush) who is secretly in love with his cousin Maebe (Alia Shawkat). Zaniness ensues. Don’t believe me? Check out the compilation of chicken dance scenes below:

Arrested Development was brilliant and hilarious, but ultimately it was for the better that it was canceled after three seasons–to be honest the premise had more than worn thin, and characters as one-dimensional as the Bluth’s couldn’t survive for too long. It was great while it lasted. We’ll always have the DVDs (until DVD is supplanted by some superior form of media archival material).

Before we go, I must make mention again of adorable Michael Cera, who will no doubt be the numba one stunna this summer in Judd Apatow’s Superbad. Check out the trailer:

7. Mr. Show (1995-1998, HBO)

So. Originally I was not going to put any HBO shows on this list. It just didn’t seem fair. But I had to make an exception for Mr. Show, Bob Odenkirk and David Cross’s acerbic and esoteric take on sketch comedy. How could I not include it? I love this show. Any clip will do–I just happen to particularly like this episode–(William Van Landingham III–jut the name cracks me up)–but if you like this and haven’t for some reason seen Mr. Show before, go ahead and just follow the whole Youtube thread, or better yet get the Mr. Show DVDs. Unlike other sketch comedy shows that rely heavily on topical situations and flash-in-the-pan pop culture references, Mr. Show‘s weirdness remains fresh and funny today (and presumably tomorrow).

From “Monk Camp”:

So. David Cross. I love the guy. He’s hilarious. But here’s something kind of weird: I find that a lot of message board trolls and internet weirdos absolutely hate this guy because–get this–he’s an asshole. Of course. Of course he’s an asshole. That’s kind of his gig. Shut Up You Fucking Baby! was hilarious. Tobias the analrapist was hilarious. He’s great in just about everything he’s on, from Biblioklept Salute alum Wondershowzen to future alum Home Movies (hold your breath for Part IV!). I’ll leave it at that. I don’t really need to defend the guy. Check out Mr. Cross’s “Open Letter to Larry the Cable Guy.”

And as not to undersell Bob Odenkirk (who is separately but equally funny) check out his new show Derek and Simon:

Cognitive Dissonance

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I couldn’t care less about Twitter–or any social networking site for that matter–but I just spent an hour watching Twittervision. I found myself entranced by the plenitude of avatars stochastically zipping across thousands of virtual miles (virtual miles that of course signify real miles); the oblique series of text boxes seemed to reply to each other in a bizarre conversation made wholly of non sequiturs.

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George Orwell was wrong and Alduous Huxley was right. We will gladly give up our privacy, and think it’s fun to do so. I’m not complaining. Maybe I’m complaining. No, I’m not complaining. I’m sure of that. But I’m not sure that I’m recommending that you check out Twittervision. It’s really, really addictive. It’s like the Videodrome signal, or the movie in Infinite Jest (the movie is named Infinite Jest). Or that new heroin with the fun name that the kids are into these days. I just don’t know. Clearly not good for mental health.

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More Alphabet Soup: Brought to You Today by the Letter H

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H is for Humbert Humbert, the rascally narrator of Vladamir Nabokov’s Lolita. Throughout the novel HH, a sardonic European, provides a running critique of conformist 1950s America, his adopted home. Pining for the haunting, ineffable feeling associated with a brief, tragic childhood love, HH engineers a series of unfortunate events in order to abscond with (and eventually seduce) twelve-year old Lolita Haze. Yep. That’s right. A child-molester made this list. But if you’ve ever read Lolita, you know how charming and funny this son-of-bitch is. Lolita is in a special class of books in the Biblioklept library; it’s one of those books that I’ve read in full at least four times, and one that I pick up and read parts of every year. The first time I read Lolita, I didn’t even realize what a monster HH was–in fact, I tended to sympathize with him, even to the point of sharing his condemnation of Lolita’s bratty, manipulative nature toward the end of the novel. Like Catcher in the Rye, I first read Lolita when I was 16; like Catcher in the Rye, Lolita was an entirely different book when I read it at 21. Somehow the book managed to change again, four or five years later. I’m sure Lolita will be completely different in a year or two when I’m thirty. In fact, I vow here and now to re-read it in full right after my 30th birthday. Who knows what will have happened to it by then? How these books change on you…

Narratological shape-shifting aside Lolita deserves to be read, and read repeatedly. Nabokov’s highly alliterative prose reverberates with lyrical gymnastics, multi-lingual puns, and allusions that will make you feel oh-so clever (if you are indeed oh-so clever enough to get them, of course). Neither Kubrick’s toothless 1962 film adaption or Adrian Lyne’s gauzy 1997 attempt do any justice at all to Nabokov’s words–this is one you simply have to read. Great stuff.

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H is also for Hand, zany foil to Will, the tormented narrator of Dave Eggers’s You Shall Know Our Velocity!. In this book, the pair embarks on a futile attempt to travel the globe giving away an enormous amount of money Will has recently received as part of an injury settlement. This scheme turns out to be much more difficult and much more complicated than they had imagined. Hand is one of my favorite characters because he’s just really damn cool–a strange combination of someone’s hip older brother mixed with someone’s annoying younger brother. My favorite part of Velocity is the fifty page section where Hand takes over the narrative, casting doubt on everything that Will has previously told the reader. Will then resumes the narrative, but at that point, the book–and Will’s status as a reliable narrator–has taken an entirely different shape. Although the story ends at a wedding, Velocity is ultimately a tragedy; the very first page announces Will’s death. But again, the whole narrative is cast in ambiguity and doubt. I loved this book so much that I bought it for a friend.

(Incidentally, Hand also tuns up in “The Only Meaning of the Oil-Wet Water,” one of Eggers’s short stories collected in How We Are Hungry).

Night Moves

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OK armchair psychologists, what make ye of this–

Early this morning as I was deep in sleep, I (according to my lovely wife) began mumbling loudly.

Said she–“What did you say?”

Said I–“Thick balls”

Said she-“What did you say?”

Said I–“Vortex”

Said she–“What did you say?”

Said I–“Transformers”

Am I OK?

Leaking Most Interesting Colors

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We here at Biblioklept, Inc. couldn’t be more stoked for Strawberry Jam. We all know that strawberry jam is delicious on crumpets (and if you don’t know the tasty delights of jam-on-crumpets, I suggest you indulge yourself posthaste) and Animal Collective’s new record Strawberry Jam, set to drop sometime in September on their new label Domino, will no doubt prove delicious to the ears–the perfect aural jelly for beach blanket parties and midsummer night campfires. Animal Collective’s Sung Tongs and Feels were instant classics of the oughties, and Panda Bear’s sumptuous solo album Person Pitch has provided the sing-along soundtrack for both spring and summer around the Biblioklept offices. Seriously, I’ve never heard an album as sing-allongable as Person Pitch. We love it love it love it &c.

Anyway, studio versions of Strawberry Jam‘s first three tracks (I’m basing the idea that these are the first three tracks on the album based on this track list) have been popping up here and there in the last week. These new tracks preserve the psycho-circus-carnival feel that defines the Animal Collective sound, with the creepy darkness and noise of previous albums like Here Comes the Indian seemingly absent (despite lyrics about Jack the Ripper in “Unsolved Mysteries”). We like “Chores” the best so far–but what do you think? Mp3s below–

“Peacebone”

“Unsolved Mysteries”

“Chores”

Remember to Spay and Neuter Your Pets

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The last episode of Bob Barker’s 35 year run as host of The Price is Right airs twice today on CBS–once at 11:00am (i.e. right now) and once more at 8:00pm. Like many of you, I’m sure, I spent many a “sick day” at home delighting in silly contestants in ridiculous homemade T-shirts spin wheels and flip numbers, all under Mr. Barker’s encouraging guidance.

The show will continue, but a new host has not yet been announced. Isn’t this a mistake? Shouldn’t they just cancel the show? I just don’t see the throwback sets and campy feel of Price working without Bob Barker. But who can say for sure.

Possible replacement hosts for The Price is Right:

Ryan Seacrest

Michael “Heckuva job, Brownie” Brown

Candace Bergen

Mel “Sugartits” Gibson

Any other candidates?

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UPDATE (SPOILER WARNING!)

Okay. We just watched Bob Barker’s finale and here’s what happened (again–spoiler warning! Quit reading if you plan to watch this on your Tivo or whatever!).

It turned out that the whole thing was just a dream–and in a clever kind of po-mo twist, the whole series actually took place in a snow-globe. Also, Bob killed Laura Palmer. Sort of. The last shot is kind of ambiguous–it just blacks out on Bob while that kick-ass Journey song is blaring. Mysterious.

Support Indie Publishers

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It’s no secret that we love McSweeney’s here at the Biblioklept–sure, some of the writing can be smartassed and some people might find their publishing concepts gimmicky at times (not me!)–but Dave Eggers’s collective puts out some of the best stuff around these days, and in some of the freshest packaging. Unfortunately, McSweeney’s distributor went bankrupt, leaving them in dire economic straits. The silver lining here (if you can call it that) is that they’re having a big sale, including half off on old stuff, and 30% off on new stuff. They’re also auctioning off a ton of original art. If you’re interested, check out the email below–

As you may know, it’s been tough going for many independent publishers, McSweeney’s included, since our distributor filed for bankruptcy last December 29. We lost about $130,000 — actual earnings that were simply erased. Due to the intricacies of the settlement, the real hurt didn’t hit right away, but it’s hitting now. Like most small publishers, our business is basically a break-even proposition in the best of times, so there’s really no way to absorb a loss that big.

We are committed to getting through and past this difficult time, and we’re hoping you, the readers who have from the start made McSweeney’s possible, will help us.

Over the next week or so, we’ll be holding an inventory sell-off and rare-item auction, which we hope will make a dent in the losses we sustained. A few years ago, the indispensible comics publisher Fantagraphics, in similarly dire straits, held a similar sale, and it helped them greatly. We’re hoping to do the same.

So if you’ve had your eye on anything we’ve produced, now would be a great time to take the plunge. For the next week or so, subscriptions are $5 off, new books are 30 percent off, and all backlist is 50 percent off. Please check out the store and enjoy the astounding savings, while knowing every purchase will help dig us out of a big hole.

Many of our contributors have stepped up and given us original artwork and limited editions to auction off. We’ve got original artwork from Chris Ware, Marcel Dzama, David Byrne, and Tony Millionaire; a limited-edition music mix from Nick Hornby; rare early issues of the quarterly, direct from Sean Wilsey’s closet; and more. We’re even auctioning off Dave Eggers’s painting of George Bush as a double-amputee, from the cover of Issue 14.

This is the bulk of our groundbreaking business-saving plan: to continue to sell the things we’ve made, albeit at a greatly accelerated pace for a brief period of time. We are not business masterminds, but we are optimistic that this will work. If you’ve liked what we’ve done up to now, this is the time to ensure we’ll be able to keep on doing more.

Plenty of excellent presses are in similar straits these days; two top-notch peers of ours, Soft Skull and Counterpoint, were just acquired by Winton, Shoemaker & Co. in the last few weeks. It’s an unsteady time for everybody, and we know we don’t have any special claim to your book-buying budget. We owe all of you a lot for everything you’ve allowed us to do over the last nine years, for all the time and freedom we’ve been given.

Once this calamity is averted, we’ll get back to our bread and butter — the now-legendary Believer music issue is already creeping into mailboxes everywhere; Issue 24 of our quarterly is in the midst of a really pretty silkscreening process; and in July the fourth issue of Wholphin, our DVD magazine, will slip over the border from Canada, bringing with it some very good footage of Maggie Gyllenhaal and a Moroccan drummer who messes up a wedding in an entertaining way. And then a couple of months after that, we’ll publish a debut novel from a writer named Millard Kaufman. This book is exactly the kind of thing McSweeney’s was created to do: The novel came through the mail, without an agent’s imprimatur, and it was written by a first-time novelist. This first-time novelist is ninety years old. It was pulled from the submissions pile and it knocked the socks off of everyone who read it. Millard may well be the best extant epic-comedic writer of his generation, and he stands at equal height with the best of several generations since.

Whatever you can do to help in the coming days, we thank you a thousand times. We’ll keep updating everybody on how this is going over the next few weeks; for now, pick up a few things for yourself, your friends, for Barack Obama. More news soon — thanks for reading.

Yours warmly,
The folks at McSweeney’s

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This email was sent by: McSweeney’s
826 Valencia Street San Francisco, CA, 94110, USA

Hypothetical Sentiments, Bodacious Birthdays, and Friendly Links

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If this was the type of blog where I wrote about my personal life, the type of blog where I bared my naked soul to the keen scrutiny of all the world (wide web), the type of blog where I tried to express the ineffable internal in so many 0s and 1s–; if this were that type of blog, I might start this post with a litany of clichés and truisms about how the birth of my daughter Zoe this Sunday, 3 June, was easily the bestest, most significant thing to ever happen to me; how the birth of my daughter made me the happiest man in the etc., how beautiful and alert and cute and adorable etc., life-changing and dramatic, etc.; I might even post a sugary photo of her like this one–

–to justify all these wild claims.

But of course, this is all hypothetical; this is not a blog about how happy I am with our new addition, or how great my wife is at being a mother, or how lovely our little Zoe is–this is a blog about books and pop culture. So maybe I should link Zoe’s birthday, 3 June, with some famous people also born on that day: these include beat poet Allen Ginsberg, exiled dancer Josephine Baker, and game show host/CIA assassin (?) Chuck Barris. Zoe wasn’t the only person to have a birthday in the Biblioklept clan this week–I switched a digit just yesterday. Famous people who were also born on 7 June include libertine painter Paul Gaugin, American poet Gwendolyn Brooks, professional drunk Dean Martin, and Florida writer Harry Crews, whose novel a Feast of Snakes, out-Bukowskis Bukowski. But by far the coolest person to be born on 7 June (sorry Mr. Martin) is Prince (I’m not going to wiki-link to Prince. If you want to know about Prince, go buy Purple Rain, or Sign ‘O’ the Times, or 1999, or Diamonds and Pearls. Also, if you know-not the glory of Prince, hang your sorry head in shame (philistine)). On my birthday, I always wonder: “What is Prince doing for his birthday? Is he having a great time? I bet he’s doing some really awesome stuff!” It makes me happy. What can I say.

I guess some of my friends knew that I’d be tuckered out from the week’s excitement, so they sent me plenty of cool links, kind of doing my blog-job for me. Check it out:

–Watch the first episode of The Flight of the Conchords when you have a spare half hour. If you don’t find this hilarious, there is probably something wrong with your soul (thanks to Damon for the link)

–Treat yourself to an awesome mix tape, courtesy of Speck. My favorite track: “The Return” by Antares (those who don’t love spaced-out psychedelic prog jamz need not apply)

–Listen to this BBC Radio 4 story on Roger Linn, inventor of the drum machine

–Watch this presentation on Photosynth. Absolutely amazing (thanks to Mike for the links)

–Watch this preview of the upcoming Persepolis movie; then check out my review of the book (thanks to Nick for the link)

Knocked Up, Rakish Behavior, More Bibliomania, and a Brief Hiatus

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So today we (id est, Mrs. Biblioklept and myself) saw Knocked Up, which is pretty much the best pregnancy movie I’ve ever seen (yes, better than 9 Months, Parenthood and Father of the Bride 2 put together, and at least equal to Rosemary’s Baby, which I’m not really sure even counts). Judd Apatow (we mentioned our love of Mr. Apatow’s work in a previous post) assembled a host of familiar faces from his regular crew (including his wife and daughters) to make a funny and honest (although certainly hyperbolic) movie about love, relationships, having kids, growing older, and all that crap. Highly recommended. For a more detailed review, check out this Slate article (warning: this is a typical Slate article, i.e. the author starts by saying they basically like what they’re about to discuss before hemming and hawing over every little detail in an effort to pick it apart. Still, on the whole, the article’s pretty good).

Now, writing about movies and card games and TV shows is all well and good, but once upon a time this was a blog about books (sort of), and perhaps some of you feel that I’ve gotten particularly lazy in my reading. This is actually far from the case; in fact, all I’ve been doing lately is reading. Only the reading I’ve been doing has been for a grad class revolving around the figure of the libertine. Summer school. Yay. Not that the class has been boring per se, just not really something that’s translated into anything I’ve felt the urge to write about. The poems and biographical of John Wilmot, Earl of Rochester have been of great interest–this guy was downright naughty. Also a relatively recent play about Rochester called The Libertine was particularly good (much better than the movie version starring Johnny Depp that came out a year or two ago). The current reading for the class, however, Samuel Richardson’s Clarissa, is more than I can bear. We are reading the abridged version, which is about 550 pages, paperback. The unabridged version is a large-sized small-print trade paperback topping 1600 pages. I have no idea what the editor cut out (neither do I care). The last time I read a book like this was in high school–Thomas Hardy’s Tess of the d’Urbervilles. Both novels are painfully long accounts of a young lady’s trying circumstances. In both novels nothing really happens, and anything interesting that does happen is so coded that you have to read between the lines to figure it out (“Huh? Did Tess get raped? Huh?” also, “Huh? Did Clarissa get raped? Huh?”). Maybe I’m just a lazy reader.

But being a lazy reader hasn’t stopped me from buying more books. My bibliomania persists unchecked, fueled by bargain blowout prices on last year’s hardback remainders and promises of free shipping from Amazon. A quick run down of what I bought this week, complete with odds that I’ll actually finish the book.

Sanctuary, William Faulkner

Intruder in the Dust, William Faulkner

The Portable Faulkner, ed. Malcolm Cowley

Fiction, Film, and Faulkner: The Art of Adaptation, Gene Phillips

Yes, I am taking a Faulkner class this summer. With the exception of the Phillips text, all materials were procured at my favorite local bookstore via store credit. Some of the books I used to get credit were not exactly mine. The Biblioklept strikes again! Likelihood that I’ll finish all of these: 99.9%. I’m a good student. I don’t cut any corners when it comes to class reading.

The Children’s Hospital, Chris Adrian

I’ve been wanting to read this all year; rave reviews all around. Likelihood that I’ll finish it: 50/50 might be generous. It’s pretty long (600 pages) and hardback (I have a very poor track record with hardback). I’ll give it a serious attempt in the two week window between the end of summer school and the fall semester. We’ll see.

U.S.!, Chris Bachelder

Another book I’ve heard only great things about. The Left (big-L) keeps reviving muckraker Upton Sinclair (you know, dude who wrote The Jungle) from the dead to help “the cause”; he is repeatedly assassinated. Likelihood that I’ll finish it: 99%–I started yesterday and am close to half finished. It’s very, very good, and I’ll try to review it later. It’s actually been a terrible distraction from Clarissa. Plus, according to the back of the book, Bachelder got his MFA from my alma mater, the University of Florida. So there.

Against the Day, Thomas Pynchon

I loved loved loved V. The Crying of Lot 49 was decent enough. Vineland was good enough, I suppose, albeit kind of silly. I’ve put down Gravity’s Rainbow more times than I can count. The first 100 pages of Mason & Dixon bored me to tears. Why did I buy this again? Oh, right, it was on sale. Likelihood that I’ll finish this: This book is hardcover and over a 1000 pages. Let’s just be honest–I will never finish this book. Maybe I’ll give it to a friend as a burdensome gift, a sort of annoying challenge.

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I realize that this post has been overlong and probably looks like a weak attempt to compensate for not having written in some time (which it certainly is); however, it will have to suffice, gentle reader, for an indeterminate amount of time. Mrs. Biblioklept will be going into the exquisite labors of childbirth any minute now (really), so I’m not sure when I’ll have the leisure to post again. Until then.

The Biblioklept Salute to Eleven Great TV Shows, Not One of Them with Us Today–Part II

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Our salute continues! (Part I here)

4. Freaks and Geeks (1999-2000, NBC)

Judd Apatow is a freaking genius. Freaks and Geeks is the only TV show I can think of to portray teenagers with any sense of realism. Set in a suburb outside of Detroit in the very early 80s, this show followed the awkward trials of Lindsay Weir, former mathlete turned “freak,” and her brother Sam, destined “geek.” Apatow handled the series with a remarkable blend of pathos and humor, but the best thing about the tone of the series was the complete lack of either schmaltzy sentimentality or undue glamor that plagues every show about teens. There are no rose-colored glasses here, no simple answers, and the endings are more often than not ambiguous–but that ambiguity is somehow more satisfying than a traditional happy ending.

5. Undeclared (2001-2002, FOX)

After Freaks and Geeks was canceled after one short season, Apatow gave TV another shot, switching to a new network and a new format. He brought along some of the actors from Freaks and Geeks, including Seth Rogan, who became a writer/producer on the show (Seth went on to co-star in Apatow’s blockbuster The 40 Year Old Virgin, and is the unlikely leading man in Apatow’s summer offering Knocked Up, which looks really, really funny). Set at the non-existent University of North Eastern California in the early oughties, Undeclared was based around a group of college freshmen trying to navigate their way through the tribulations of a new school full of new people. The show focused on Steven, a nerdy kid with the potential to reinvent himself in his new environs. He manages to hook up with fellow dormer Lizzie, despite her older boyfriend (Lizzie’s psycho-obsessive older boyfriend, played by Freaks and Geeks star Jason Segel, provides for one of the show’s funniest plots). Steven’s quest for cool is of course impeded by his father (played by folkie Loudon Wainwright III) who, after a nasty divorce, has embarked on his own quest for cool (midlife crisis style)).

Loudon Wainwright III plays “The Morgue.”

Before we leave our contemplation of Judd Apatow, I highly recommend everyone read this 2001 exchange of emails between Apatow and That 70s Show Creator Mark Brazill, published originally in Harper’s. Brazill accuses Apatow of plagiarism, hilarity ensues.

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Later this week in the salute–is David Cross a dick? What do you do when the series that filled the Buffy-sized void in your pop culture heart is canceled? And does Nickelodeon really suck now, or have we just gotten older?

The Biblioklept Salute to Eleven Great TV Shows, Not One of Them with Us Today–Part I

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We here at the Biblioklept are not above watching TV–in fact, TV is one of our favorite distractions from getting our assigned reading done. What follows is an incomplete list of some of our favorite TV shows that are no longer on air. Some were canceled too early, others probably benefited from getting off the air when they did. All were fantastic.

In no particular order:

1. Buffy the Vampire Slayer (1997-2001, the Warner Brothers network (“the WB”); 2001-2003, UPN)
My dad and brother turned me on to this show. Their initial attraction had to do with Sarah Michelle Gellar’s provocative attire. For my taste, Buffy (the show) had just the right balance of pop culture savvy and teen-drama kitsch. The show got particularly good when the Scoobies (Buffy’s crew’s nickname for themselves) went to college. Speaking of college, academia in the early oughties responded to the show with a field of cultural studies sometimes referred to as “Buffy studies.” So there.

A few scenes from “Once More, with Feeling” (in this episode, the Scoobies are put under a spell where they communicate by singing Broadway musical style).

Buffy creator/mastermind Joss Whedon directed the “Business School” episode of The Office a few months ago, which was very funny. The Office is really funny, but NBC should wrap it up next year before it starts to totally suck. While I’m voicing unsupported opinions, let me also go ahead and aver that the US version of The Office is superior to the British one (no knock on Gervais).

2. TV Funhouse (2000-2001, Comedy Central)

When will TV Funhouse get a DVD release? It amazes me that all the seasons of Air Wolf got collected on DVD, but this manic treasure remains uncollected. But I digress before I begin.

Robert Smigel’s Saturday Night Live shorts are funny in their own right, but the eight episodes he made of TV Funhouse are literally breathtakingly funny. I had a small but debilitating stroke due to a lack of oxygen resulting from laughing so much at the Anipal’s mischievous antics. The show featured plenty of cartoon shorts, like the ones you can still see on SNL, and those were pretty funny, but the best bits of TVF involved the adventures of the Anipals, a gang made of puppets and real animals. The best episode was a two-parter where the Anipals went to Atlantic City, where they met Robert Goulet and Triumph the Insult Comic Dog. Hilarity ensues. Not for children.

Check out “Fetal Scooby-Doo” (because I couldn’t find the Anipals).

3. Wonder Showzen ( MTV 2005-2006)

“Chinese Girl Baby Atlantis”

Again, not for children. Wonder Showzen kind of upped the ante for what you could do with kids on TV. This show features some of the darkest, nastiest satire on consumer culture I can think of. The final episode of the first season is almost an art prank. Entitled “Patience,” it truly, truly tests the audience patience, occurring in three acts: the first slowed down to incomprehensible goo, the second at a normal pace, and the third sped up.

Or better yet,watch a whole episode–check out “Cooperation” from the second season, (yes that is John Oates, Devendra Banhart, Rick Springfield, and Corin Tucker singing “War Doesn’t Solve Anything”)

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Later this week: Part II, in which we look at some of Judd Apatow’s beautiful flops and speculate that it was probably a good thing Arrested Development was canceled after three short seasons.

Apples to Apples

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Apples to Apples is the best game I’ve played in years. It’s pretty basic: each player gets seven NOUN cards. The nouns cover a range of people, places, and things–everything from Frank Sinatra to Skiing to Wall Street to Bananas. Each round, a new player plays the judge. The judge sets out an ADJECTIVE card–something like Classy or Wise or Extravagant or Basic or Feminine, etc. Then, each player has to throw out (face down) the NOUN card that they think best fits the adjective in play. Each time the judge picks your card as the winner, you set it aside as a point. The player with the most points wins (duh).

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This game stimulates plenty of conversation; you can play it with friends for hours without noticing how much time has passed by. It also goes great when paired with beer or wine (but watch out that no one you’re playing with gets upset and knocks the wine bottle over and curses everyone, which may happen in some cases). Highly recommended.

Millionaire’s Maakies

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Cartoon Network’s Adult Swim lineup is pretty much hit or miss. Despite great shows like Home Movies and Moral Orel, they still produce garbage like Aqua Teen Hunger Force (their worst crime of course is their culpability in getting Family Guy back on the air). Luckily, this “throw something up and see if it sticks” approach to TV programming allows for all sorts of weird visual shenanigans to take place on your TV screen that usually wouldn’t air on basic cable. In a fit of insomnia a few nights ago I caught some of Tony Millionaire’s series of shorts, Maakies. Odd/possibly disturbing/very funny. Enjoy (or not, you mirthless maggot!)

The Weird Wild World of Wonder Woman

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What’s the deal with Wonder Woman? (images via Superdickery, who provide their own snarky comments).

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A little five-on-one action. Luckily, that nasty voyeur Elongated Man is there to film the whole thing.

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Good clean Amazon fun.

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Look out for the giant phallus–uh–torpedo!

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A Freudian’s field day.

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(Evil) mustache rides, 10 cents.

Friday Funnies

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“The great epochs of our life come when we gain the courage to rechristen our evil as what is best in us.”

The other night, at our last birthing class, our fearless instructor pulled out the old overhead projector (she had previously come out strongly and scornfully against power point presentations), and began showing us various cartoons detailing the ups and downs of life with a new baby.

I knew that it was coming. I was clinching my jaw in preparation for it. But nothing could have readied me for just how loud the class laughed in appreciation for a Family Circus comic. I love comics of all kind, so the insipid lifeless crap-o-rama that is Family Circus is particularly offensive to me, especially when it’s somehow deemed to be true or, even worse, truly funny. Then again, the people in my birthing class are the same crew that suggested a few weeks ago that eating the placenta was distinctly un-American, so it seems about par for course that they would appreciate FC.

Fortunately, there’s an antidote to Bil Keane’s witless garbage. Check out The Nietzsche Family Circus, which pairs a random FC image to a random Nietzsche quote. If not always hilarious, the results are often instructive, and always constitute legitimate satire. Good stuff.

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“He who cannot give anything away cannot feel anything either. “

 

Follow Through

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Feist on Leno, 5.8.07.

Feist on Leno

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For those of you who can stay up past eleven, lovely-voiced Leslie Feist is scheduled to perform tonight (5.8.07) on The Tonight Show with Jay Leno. For the rest of us, I’m sure Youtube will provide. If you’re not sure that you’re interested, check out the video for “1 2 3 4” here (WARNING! In all likelihood this song will get stuck in your head for the next few days).