It's started again. They found four bodies. Kids. Just like before. They found the first one around midnight. Fat kid. Say he drowned. The second one turned up at the resevoir. Naked. Bloated. Discolored. She'd bled out through a thousand little cuts all over her body, like she'd been through a cusinart.

An hour later, they found the third one. Her body had been left at the landfill, half buried in garbage. The others, they were nobodies, but she was one of those heiress types. A couple more years, and she'd have had her own reality show. Trashy pop album. Celebrity sex tape. The works. Instead, she's hip deep in shit with a broken neck. They can't find her dad either, but the press doesn't care about that yet. Not when they've got a serial child murderer to fawn over.

It was dawn when the last body turned up. Another boy, just like I knew it would be. The news is saying he was tortured, medieval-style, his small body broken on a rack. I know better. I know he thought he was having the time of his life. Having a great adventure. Right up until his arms popped out of their sockets.

Maybe things would be different if I'd stayed with him, all those years ago. Maybe I could have played along, played his game. Let him dress me up like his little Mini-me. Maybe it would have stopped. Or maybe I'd have ended up like my friends.

Friends? No, not really. I've spent the last twenty years telling myself they were, because it was easier than the truth. The truth is, I hated the others. Thought they deserved what they got. I didn't get it, not till later. They were just kids for Christ's sake. They weren't perfect, but who the fuck is? I can tell you, I wasn't no prize. Just some cheery little shit who could smile and look pretty and not give a fuck as long as it was happening to other people.

It was only later that I got it. That I understood what he'd done to the other kids. What he wanted to do to me. So I ran. Dyed my hair and lived on the streets for a couple of years. I never went home again, because I knew he'd find me. I read in the papers what happened to my family a couple of weeks later.

No one ever linked it to him. No one ever linked what happened to my family to what happened to the other kids. I don't know why. No one's going to link these ones to him either. No one's even going to suspect him. But I know he did it. I know. And I have to stop him. Because I'm the only one who can.

Willy Wonka must die.

Personal Thoughts/Writing

By Ross at 10:07 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)

Hey all. I'd been hoping to make my eschatological reviews come a little faster these days, but as it turns out, I actually work for a living and am increasingly unwilling to commit the time to watch anything so long as a movie and give it my full attention and snark. I'm going to buckle down and turn that around, but don't expect me to stick to anything like a schedule just yet.

In my unwillingness to commit to a whole movie, I've been watching a lot of short web originals, getting all caught up on the works of the folks over at Channel Awesome, the YouTube series "Is it a Good Idea To Microwave This?", and the collected works of Cinemassacre.com, home of The Angry Video Game Nerd.

Now, some Halloween or other, James Rolfe, who in real life is an actual person who does things other than swearing at video games which are almost as old as he is, did a top ten list of the best giant monster movies. I was pretty well familiar with everything on the list -- giant monster is really just a supergenre of giant robot, and you know how I feel about giant robots -- but there was one movie there which I'd never heard of: a movie that earned a place of honor in the list for the sheer craptacularity of the monster's design, and the strange habit the film has of comparing the creature to a battleship. So, I sought this movie out, and I'm about to watch it, and you're coming with me.

The Giant Claw
1957
dir. Fred F. Sears

We open with a globe spinning in some smoke. Some might think this is meant to actually be an FX shot of the earth in space, but I am fairly sure that even in 1957, they knew that the map lines were not visible from space.

A narrator drones on for a bit about SCIENCE! and TECHNOLOGY! and shows us a radar installation to prove he means it. I do not think this has anything to do with the story, but it's hard to make a feature length film out of five minutes of Giant Vulture footage.

These radar operators are concerned, because Radar tells them that their test plane is at 9,000 feet, but the pilot's altimeter says 10,000. This is quickly ascribed to the fact that they've let a WOMAN be involved in the complex mathematical calculations needed to make Radar work.

They order Mitch The Pilot to perform some maneuver, which triggers ominous music as he... buzzes the radar base. I guess this was meant to be a cat scare? Anyway, the stunt spooks Miss Caldwell, prompting the Manly Radar Men to exchange a quick, knowing look that basically shouts "Women. Typical."

Miss Caldwell, being Just A Dame, thought that pilots weren't allowed to do that, and the Radar men explain that, while Air Force pilots aren't allowed to do that, Mitch is actually an Electrical Engineer, with no flight training to speak of, which makes it okay. Miss Caldwell bizarrely suggests that Mitch needs to be spanked like a three year old, but as she's Just A Woman, she neglects that the radio is still on, he hears her, and suggests that a spanking is just the sort of action he's into.

I have a feeling you're going to be seeing this picture a lot

At this point, the narrator takes over, explaining, "A Radar officer. A mathematician and systems analyst. A Radar operator. A couple of plotters. People doing a job well, efficiently. Serious, having fun. Doing a job. Situation, normal for the moment." Then, he bizarrely launches into a weather report, having found this film so boring that he's forgotten that he isn't just reading the news: "Date, the 17th of the month. Sky cloudy, overcast. Visibility limited. Time, 1332 hours. A significant moment in history. A moment when an electronics engineer named Mitchell MacAfee saw something in the sky." And we see Mitch react with dull surprise as something blurry flies by his plane. Instead of having this exciting scene acted out, the narrator just tells us what's happening as we watch the actors wordlessly react. As Mitch turns his plane, the unidentified flying object turns too, and the narrator, for the first of several times, pulls out an analogy to explain how big this thing is: "Something, he didn't know what, but something as big as a battleship had just flown over and past him."

They scramble interceptors, but don't find anything. Which causes the radar officer to declare Mitch to be a liar, and threatens to have him arrested and ruin his career. Thanks to Mitch's "joke" -- which the officer is implacably convinced is what it was -- not only didn't they find what he saw, but one of their planes vanished. So clearly, there was NOTHING OUT THERE and Mitch was LYING, LYING I TELL YOU. Mitch maintains his honesty while the officer gets a phone call, and Miss Caldwell warns Mitch that he's "Already caused enough trouble with his flying battleship nonsense." The call, however, exonerates Mitch, as a passenger jet has just gone missing shortly after the pilot radioed in about a UFO. So now he believes Mitch entirely.

Mitch and the Girl take a flight back to New York, but the Weather Started Getting Rough -- which surpises Mitch because he "Thought the poop on the weather was we'd have it soft all the way to New York." This film seems weirdly weather-obsessed. Their flight, Zebra Love 759 (By the way, "Zebra Love" is my favorite Equinesploitation hero), moves to a higher altitude to avoid the storm, but this runs them afoul of the invisible-to-radar flying battleship thing. The pilot calls in a UFO, but is then incapacitated when the ship is harshly buffetted despite the instruments not registering "a hatful of wind" (This movie has no idea how metaphors work), and the plane crashes. As it turns out, if your plane goes into a nose dive from 12,000 feet, you won't be hurt on the landing even if you're not strapped in, and will be in fine condition to run from the plane before it explodes about 40 seconds after impact. Mitch blames the crash on "A Flying battleship that wasn't there," just to put Miss Caldwell in her place for doubting him. So you know what that means...

A painful French Canadian Trapper stereotype rescues them and offers them some of his moonshine to occupy them until the Mounties arrive. Miss Caldwell, who really should get off her high horse, explains that their plane collided with "Nothing so domestic as a flying saucer, officer; just a flying battleship," along with a pointed look to Mitch to indicate that, because, as a woman, she is the Designated Idiot of this movie, she still doesn't believe him. He then gets an angry phone call from the general, leading Miss Caldwell to remind him that, "Flying battleship, pink elephant, same difference." (I am not going to bother showing the counter again), and Mitch angrily points out that he only said that it looked like a battleship, not that it was a battleship. Which would entirely justify him, except that we're eventually going to see this thing.

The unheard General accuses Mitch of having crashed a plane and badly injured the pilot as a joke. Fortunately, Pierre's applejack calms Mitch down before he says something impolitic. Pierre goes out to check the animals, but then screams and has to be rescued. He wakes up screaming about the carcagne, the French Canadian equivalent of a Banshee -- fortunately, both Mitch and Miss Caldwell dimly remember obscure bits of French Canadian folklore. But the plane is there for our American heroes, so they leave Pierre to cry himself to sleep, somehow failing to notice that in the matte painting of Pierre's backyard is a clawprint the size of a battleship's foot if a battleship had feet like a chicken.

On the plane, Mitch notices that Miss Caldwell is asleep, and so decides to take advantage of her. I swear to God I am not making this up. She wakes up with his tongue down her throat and decides that she's okay with that, because, after all, she is a woman, and can not resist a man of Mitch's undoubtable charms. They have a weird talk about baseball which is meant to be an analogy for them hooking up, and she tells him in no uncertain terms that he is not going to get any farther than second base, but since this movie thinks that a giant bird is kinda like a battleship, for all I can tell, they're using "second base" here to mean a threesome. When she says something about having to follow the "pattern" (First the minor league, then the majors. Again, maybe this means he needs to actually woo her before he can stick his tongue down her throat, or maybe he means that he needs to give her a reach-around. God only knows), though, Mitch gets as confused about the metaphor as I am, and starts mumbling "pattern" to himself over and over. He suddenly demands she give him an orthographic map, and she gives him... A mercator map.

I'm guessing he just picked a random word he knew went with "map"

He marks some ENTIRELY RANDOM spots on the map, and then draws a spiral through them, which "proves" that the UFO is working to "a perfect pattern in time and distance!" . Again, she taunts him that to fly that distance in that time would take the speed of a... FLYING BATTLESHIP She taunts him for thinking something so silly as that the sudden rash of now five crashed airplanes, each of which was linked to a UFO sighting, could possibly be anything more than coincidence. Yeah! What a maroon!

Mitch concedes that he's being foolish, and they go back to making out. I don't think this merits a ring of the Casual Misogyny Counter bell, though, just because it seems less like him taking advantage of her womanish weakness and more like her trying to shut him up.

As they play tonsil hockey, the narrator cuts in with a new weather report: Partly cloudy with a chance of battleship. As a recovery team flies to the site of Mitch's latest crash, the pilot spots a swift-moving fuzzy blur, this time making weird monkey noises. Unfortunately, the narrator ruins the surprise by telling the audience that the pilot radios in the report of the UFO (we see the pilot do this, but do not hear what he says. Instead, the narrator just tells us): A bird as big as a battleship was about to attack the plane. And it is here, dear readers, that we finally get our first look at the monster:

The bird eats the plane, then, just to be contrary, also gobbles up the parachuting survivors. Or, rather, the bird bits the toy plane, and then an unconvincing process shot of the bird flies up behind an actor hanging from the ceiling.

The next morning, Mitch gets woken up early by an air force officer, as the general wants him. Mitch cautions the officer to "Keep your shirt on, I'll go put my pants on," and then shows his random spiral drawing on a DEFINITELY NOT ORTHOGRAPHIC map to the general.

The general tells Mitch about two more crashes which (surprise surprise) fit his pattern perfectly, though he still refers to the whole idea as some kind of crazy joke Mitch is pulling on them -- he puts enough disbelief in the word "theorhetical" in front of "pattern" when he says it with enough force that you can hear the scare quotes around it. The general explains that the pilot had described the UFO as "a bird... as big as a battleship!" Mitch scoffs at the very idea, which seems small of Mitch. The general asks Mitch's opinion as an electronics expert on the feasibility of a bird as big as a battleship, because this is a 50s monster movie, and one SCIENCE^tm is very much like another.

My favorite instance of the Very 50s Attitude Toward Science was from the classic Twilight Zone episode "Little Girl Lost". In this episode, parents wake up in the middle of the night to find their young daughter missing. Now, it turns out that she fell through a freak tear in the fabric of space and time into the FOURTH DIMENSION, so in retrospect, they mde the right move, but there, at that first moment of waking up and finding your child missing, what was their reaction? Dad immediately, without even thinking about it, says, "I'll call Ted: he's a scientist, he'll know what to do!"

The general realizes that of all the men who have seen the bird, only Mitch is still alive -- which, Mitch realizes, "Makes me the chief cook and bottle-washer of the birdwatching society," because no one in this movie has the slightest idea how to construct anything resembling a cogent metaphor. But Mitch didn't get a good look at the thing, and wishes he had a camera. This makes Miss Caldwell -- who I think might be named "Sally", and will proceed from that hypothesis because I am getting tired of typing out "Miss Caldwell" -- remember that they used balloon-mounted cameras to calibrate their radar for the curvature of the earth, and therefore might have gotten a picture of this giant bird. But what really interests me in this scene is this:

Can't make it out? Here's a close-up:

I'm not just imagining this, right? That's the Starship Enterprise, mounted on the general's bookshelf. Compare:

They bring in the film from the camera balloons, and see... Nothing. And then... Nothing... And then... A tiny little bird. And then... The same bird, closer. And then... HOLY SHIT IT'S A GIANT VULTURE COMING RIGHT FOR US.

The general freaks the hell out and passes the buck along to his superior general. His superior general, using the wisdom accumulated from his decades of experience, looks at the film and concludes: "Yep, it's a bird all right." He then yells at Mitch for the fact that it's impossible for something to be invisible to Radar (Radar is a blameless, holy creature), and Mitch gets defensive. But the previous General tells him to calm down, because no one's accusing him of anything. Except for the entire movie thus far, in which they were. General #2 then gives General #1 a hug. No, Really.

Incidentally, out the general's window is a matte painting of the Capitol building to esablish that these events take place in Washington DC. Now, I know a thing or two about parallax and perspective geometry, and I think I can safely say based on the visual evidence that the General's office is on the third or fourth floor of the Ulysses S Grant memorial. Which is a statue.

The general turns on the radio so that our heroes can hear the full force of the USA kill the bird, which they will obviously do with ease, because, after all, it's just a big bird. One of tie pilots catches sight of the thing and comments, "I'll never call my mother-in-law an old crow again!"

Some air force stock footage on 8mm film flies unrelated maneuvers, intercut with a model shot of a large bird eating toy planes, because the bird is, of course, immune to bullets. The falling toy plane turns into stock footage of a plane crash, and then the bird swoops in to finish off the survivor. Expect it to take another hour or so before they work out that the bird is actively targeting anyone who's ever seen it, and that this killing spree is all targeted around catching Mitch. The pilot reports that, "It's like going after a battleship with a slingshot," which is The first time that this simile has made any sense at all The bird turns more toys into stock footage, and finally kills the pilot we've been listening to on the radio. The general laments: "Machine guns, cannons, rockets, nothing touched it!" Why does that sound familiar?

But this movie is no War of the Worlds. General #1 starts to crack up, and General #2 becomes defensive, and Mitch has to reassure them that he's not talking shit about the air force, and that just because they had a bad time of it, it doesn't mean their mommies don't still love them. Fortunately, they get a call from Scientists^tm, who think they have something. General #2 explains that he's given the order to nuke the bird if it turns up anwhere where the fallout won't be a problem (This is the fifties, when it was common knowledge that as long as you weren't killed in the blast itself, and you took a really thorough shower afterwards, there was no lasting harm done from exposure to radioactive fallout.). Mitch apologizes for ever having doubted the military superiority of the US Air Force. General Number 2 hugs him and asks him to keep climbing on their backs. Nope. Still not making this up.

We then cut to a place of SCIENCE^tm, where someone's fifth grade diorama of the Bohr model of the atom is used to explain that atomic weapons are awesome. A scientist explains that while it is widely believed that all atoms are alike, but this is not true: the theory of electrodynamics says that all of nature must be symmetrical, and therefore there must be atoms where the nucleus is negative and the electrons are positive -- ANTI-MATTER, and SCIENCE^tm has proven that this must be the case, not on earth, but on alien planets elsewhere in the universe. And, quite naturally, anti-mater is invisible to radar. .

Even our heroes aren't quite so stupid as to think that this makes sense -- the Bird should have exploded when it touched the bullets or ate the planes. But, the scientist assures them, the bird itself isn't made of antimatter, but it radiates an invisible shield made of anti-matter. So that bit about other planets and galaxies made of anti-matter? ENTIRELY POINTLESS. Also, why does this sound familiar?

I'm starting to suspect that this movie is just a cheaper version of War of the Worlds with the word "Martian" crossed out and "Big Bird" pencilled in.

The bird can also clearly open its antimatter screen to use its claws and beak as weapons. Because, I guess, the antimatter screen it projects which annihilates any matter with which it comes in contact isn't good enough as a weapon. The scientist assures them that this is not just a theory, like evolution or the female orgasm, but is scientific fact, evidenced by the pile of debris left over when he tries -- as a last resort -- to analyze a shed feather from the bird in an ELECTRONIC ANALYZER. Since the feather ("We call it a feather, we don't really know what it is, just what it looks like.") contains no known element or compound, analyzing it caused an explosion. Because that's what happens when you analyze something unknown. But anyway, this proves that the bird is an alien, and also all that bullshit about antimatter, and that the bird comes from a "God-forsaken anti-matter galaxy, billions of miles from earth. Not a theory, folks, scientific fact. Incidentally, during this scene, you can clearly see the shadow of General #1 picking his nose from off-screen. I won't post a screen shot.

General #2 is going to do everything he can, but, unfortunately, "The last time I talked to a chaplain, there wasn't any telephone line to the one and only place where we can get the help we need." Because religious pluralism is for commies. So the general calls the next best person, after God: the secretary of defense. The narrator chips in and recaps that Mitch is the only person to have seen the bird and survived, and that "Among those who knew of it, its existence was a closely guarded secret." Among those who did not know of it, it was common knowledge. But all that changed when the bird "revealed itself" (eew) to the public at large, and "Complacency turned into panic." I am fairly sure that their actions so far do not really fit the usual definition of "complacency", but still.

To demonstrate this, we show some people in swimsuits at a pool in California, who look up in terror to see... a blurry dark blob. They react with horror. Given that for the first half of this movie, they've indicated that the bird works to a very precise pattern moving radially outward from a point which appears to be somewhere in Greenland, it strikes me as unlikely that "every corner of the globe" would be unable to look up without catching TEH TERRORZ. It also strikes me that this scene was probably meant to titillate, but the women in 50's bathing costumes does nothing for me. Well, maybe a little. Also, the bird is so blurry that the whole film seems to have gone astigmatic.

The vaguely blur-shaped bird terrorizes stock footage of London, stock footage of 1920s New York, and stock footage of a World War I battlefield trench. Sally brings over some calculations that she spent all night running through the "calculating machine", and this pleases Mitch, but she's disappointed that he does not reward her with a kiss until prompted.

Mitch has been working on a crazy and unlikely possibility that might kill the bird, but Sally has had the foresight to follow up with Pierre, and has found out about the giant clawprint we saw half an hour ago. They realize that the "only possible explanation" is that the bird is building a nest. This makes Mitch realize... something, but he keeps insisting that he'll explain later while he calls the general. The narrator, in the form of a radio announcer, explains that atomic weapons have proven useless against the bird, and all planes have been grounded, leading the bird to resort to ground attacks and an "orgy of destruction" to feed ("Does it eat, as we understand the word?") -- this involves it chasing stock footage of people running away, cattle stampedes, and cars driving off cliffs and exploding. The governments of the world have all declared martial law, declared a Blitz-style blackout and banned all non-essential transportation.

With the entire world cowering, the bird shows up... RIGHT OUTSIDE MITCH'S WINDOW. Mitch and Sally travel by plane and then by three different kinds of stock footage helicopter out to Pierre's farm, where they take some guns in hope of shooting the bird's eggs before the can hatch and the human race is really hosed. We're treated to an interminable "Walking around looking for the nest" scene . They find it, but mommy is there. Pierre wets them and runs away like the cowardly Frenchman he is (Battleship counter: 8 Misogyny Counter: 7. Offensive Cultural Stereotype Counter: 1) leaving Sally and Mitch to shoot the eggs on their own. Based on the relative size of the bird, these rifles put holes in the eggs approximately the size of a smallish television. This makes momma bird angry, and she uses her antimatter power and giant claws to... drop tree branches on them. And then she chases down Pierre and kills him for being a little bitch. Mitch explains that they'll need to send out search parties to find any other eggs, and then glibly steals Pierre's car. Unfortunately, a bunch of roudy Teenagers run them off the road while acting like jackasses because they ain't afraid of no bird. Also, they repeatedly call Mitch "Daddy-O". Because disobeying your elders merits death, the bird grabs them. And rather than eating the car, it just drops it again, letting it fall into the anti-matter shield and explode. Two of the teens managed to jump clear before it was too late, and survive, narrowly, though I don't think they'll ever be seen again. Sally contemplates their bottle of booze as if it is of keen importance.

The next day, Mitch pitches his new exciting idea, involving SCIENCE^tm: One of the newest discoveries in science is the "Mu Masonic Atom With A hydrogen Nucleus", which I believe is the secret society responsible for the treasure map on the back of the Declaration of Independence. I had a look in Wikipedia to determine how much of this speech was gibberish, and the answer is either "all of it", or "This topic is so complex that I can't even work out enough of the vocabulary to google the right thing. Also, I think this may predate the standardization of the terminology. Muonic atoms, which seem to be what he's talking about, are hydrogen atoms which have a negatively charged Muon where a normal atom would have an electron. Because muons are heavier than electrons, Muonic atoms are smaller than ordinary atoms (In Bohr-world, the heavier muon orbits closer to the nucleus than an electron would. In a quantum world, it has a smaller "ground state waveform", which means the same thing, only with an added "But electrons don't really orbit the nucleus like a planet around a sun" at the end). That much is actual science, and I could understand. The next bit, according to Mitch, is "Because the (sic) mesic atom is so small, it can pass through the atom's electromagnetic defenses and fuse to the nucleus" of either matter or antimatter. Close as I can tell, that doesn't make any sense. The closest thing I can find is that Muonium (which is the opposite of a muonic atom: a positively charged Muon nucleus with an electron in orbit) can form compounds with normal atoms the same way hydrogen would. But that doesn't seem useful. Anyway, the upshot of all this is that (a) if you shoot a stream of freemasons at the bird, it will neutralize its crunchy antimatter shell, leaving the bird defenseless except for its razor-sharp talons, beak capable of crushing a jet plane, and feathers which explode under mass spectroscopy. Also, (B), I now know more about subatomic particles than I did when I woke up.

This will allow them to attack the bird by throwing kitchen sinks at it. The general is excited, but settles for a hearty handshake instead of hugging Mitch again. Sally and the Scientist both suggest that this plan is a miracle. You know, I wasn't especially bothered with George Pal implied at the end of War of the Worlds that the Martians' vulerability to bacteria was the result of divine intervention. But this is just getting to me.

As they struggle to produce "mesic atoms" in quantity and with lifespans measurable in more than a microsecond, the bird attacks a model train, and carries it off like a string of sausages. Then Mitch accidentally blows himself up.

When Mitch wakes up, they all tell him that they're giving up and that he did all he could. But Mitch insists that he actually got the thing working -- they'd had the polarity reversed. And blew himself up on purpose. The general is ecstatic, and Mitch asks him to go get his pants so they can go.


Mitch needs a "calculator" for the plane crew. Since this is 1957, a "calculator" is a person who calculates, not a device. But plainly, Sally can't go with them, as she is only a woman (This one does not count, because the general has no qualms about sending her. I'm going to be generous and suppose that Mitch doesn't want Sally there because she's his girlfriend, not because she's a girl.


They're forced to launch early, because the bird has been sighted doing this movie's big VFX shot:

The bird pecks the top off of the paper mache model of the Empire State Buidling, then takes to the air, chasing people across a wide open grassy field in the center of Manhattan. The bird takes a bite out of the UN building, but since it's above the 9th floor, no one cares. . This causes unrelated stock footage of explosions to play. The Muon-armed plane approaches and the bird gives chase. Stock footage of ground batteries shoot at it, despite the fact that bullets are still useless against it, and we see the same shot of a radar tower as in the first scene. The bird clips the top of a pair of towers that I don't recognize (The film is too early for it to be the WTC, but I somehow doubt this scene will ever air on TV again), and then -- HOLY SHIT:

Isn't that building supposed to be in San Francisco? Anyway, just as the bird catches up with them, Mitch finishes wiring up the device and fires a few film scratches at the bird. Smoke billows up from somewhere offscreen, as opposed to, like, emanating from the area around the bird, and they take this to mean that the bird is now vulnerable. The generals fire some rockets, the bird falls from the sky, one of the generals shouts, "We got it!" Mitch and Sally kiss, and The movie just ends. No explanation. No closure. No giant vulture soup. No giant vulture sandwiches. Just "The End."

So that's The Giant Claw. I won't swear that it's the most ridiculous giant movie monster out there, but it is certainly... The most shameless attempt to repurpose an early draft of the script to War of the Worlds. Shame on you, Fred Sears. I leave you with this parting shot, a last look at the slowly sinking beast...

Shallow Thoughts/Movies

By Ross at 11:59 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)

Back at the other end of this year, I decided to retire my aging TiVo, and become a full-time user of the magic that is MythTV. For those of you who don't know, MythTV is a software package you can run on a computer (Linux based. I won't swear that there isn't a Windows port, but of this, I know little) which does more or less what a Digital Video Recorder does -- it can record TV to its hard drive so you can watch it whenever you like. But because you've got a whole computer which is under your control, it can also do, well, anything else you want. For my purposes, the most useful thing that it does is to act as a sort of video jukebox: I can back up all my DVDs to a network hard drive, and thereby avoid all the hassle of (a) having to keep piles of DVDs in the living room, (b) risking scratches, and (c) dealing with temperamental DVD players. Another of its nice features is that, with an add-on called MythNetTV, you can subscribe to video podcasts via MythTV, and it will deliver new episodes to you just as if they'd been broadcast over the air, allowing you to watch grainy, low-resolution YouTube quality video of cats doing amusing things on your 40 inch HDTV. I've long found it ironic that as TVs get bigger and resolutions increase, we're increasingly willing to huddle around a laptop monitor to watch a 320x200 viral video. Well, suck it, losers, because I'm watching The Spoony Experiment and The Nostalgia Critic on the big screen.

Now, like most Linux projects, it's not all sunshine. I've got two cheap TV tuner dongles, which don't work with it (There's several very nice tuners which work with it, but I really wanted just a cheap one to use as a secondary tuner). And the usability is not nearly as polished as, say, TiVo (That said, it's miles beyond most cable box DVRs in the UI department). There's a few annoyances that I have yet to be able to overcome (The size at which subtitles render is hard-coded, which means that it displays at a size which was plainly selected for a Standard Definition screen, making it slightly microsocopic at 1080p), but, like I said, it's a whole computer, and you can bring to bear all that implies.

I'd been meaning for some time to write a series of articles about the cool things I've written to bend the Mythtv to my will, but actually banging any of my hacks into a presentable state has required a bit more time than I've been willing to invest. But this week, I found something so handy and so elegant that I thought it was time to share it.

So, MythTV trick Number One:

One problem with playing back video from various disparate sources is the volume level. You know how when you're watching regular old-fashioned TV, more often than not, the commercials will be about a million decibels louder than the show? The volume will be different from one channel to the next. When you're also downloading New Media from The Intertubes, those too will be at radically different levels from TV, and from each other. DVDs are usually at a much lower level than TV (I think this may be caused by the downmix from 5.1 to stereo). And if, say, you're watching a third generation rip from a grainy VHS of a film so rare that no one involved in it will even admit to having heard of it, you're talking borderline inaudible.

With months of training, I've got Leah to the point where she'll actually give me a fair chance to reach the remote control and turn the volume down before she yells at me to turn it down the instant the sound starts, but it's still not really an optimal solution for me to keep having to adjust the volume from one video to the next.

If you are a modern person who keeps all your music in digital format, you may be familiar with the concept of volume normalizing, which analyses a whole song and works out how to adjust the overall volume to the song so that you don't blow out your ear drums if Shuffle Play puts a John Tesh song right after one by Alice in Chains (Which is not to say that you don't deserve deafness for your taste in music).

But the tools for doing this to video are less mature, and besides, you might be willing to spend 2 minutes preprocessing a 4 minute song you're going to keep for the rest of your life, but I'm not willing to spend 30 minutes processing an episode of Stargate Universe which I'm going to delete as soon as I've finished watching it.

As it turns out, though, since you're running a whole computer, and it's Linux, the Magical World Where You Can Basically Do Anything You Want So Long As You're Willing To Carve It From the Solid Granite of the OS With Your Bare Hands, it's possible to just order your sound card to do that normalization for you as it plays -- in this case, it's called Compression and Limiting.

I could just about muddle through the science of how it works, but probably not well enough to explain it to anyone in detail. The general gist of it is that a "compressor" squishes audio such that it reduces the difference between the loudest sounds and the softest. When a sound is louder than some threshhold, it reduces the volume, but it does it in a very smooth way that sounds good. This is something radio stations do so that you can turn the volume up loud enough to hear the soft bits without blowing out your speakers for the loud bits. A "limiter" is the same basic process, but it's much more powerful and lacks the subtlety of a lower-rate compressor. Basically, the purpose of the compressor is to make the audio all "fit" within a certain range of loud-to-soft, and then the limiter boosts the gain (ie. "Turns the volume up") while keeping it from exceeding a certain threshold.

In Linux's ALSA sound system, you can create plugins which (long story short) basically act like virtual sound devices. You tell an application to use that sound device, and any audio the application tries to put out will be sent through the plugin before it's turned into sweet delicious audio. Here's an audio compressor that I threw together based on some stuff I found on the ALSA wiki:

pcm.ladcomp {
      type plug
      slave.pcm "ladcomp_compressor";
  }
 pcm.ladcomp_compressor {
      type ladspa
      slave.pcm "ladcomp_limiter";
      path "/usr/lib/ladspa";
      plugins [
          {
              label dysonCompress
              input {
                  controls [0 1 0.5 0.99]
              }
          }
      ]
  }
 pcm.ladcomp_limiter {
      type ladspa
      slave.pcm "default";
      path "/usr/lib/ladspa";
      
      plugins [
          {
              label fastLookaheadLimiter
              input {
               controls [ 15 0 0.8  ]
              }
          }
     ]
  }

This code can be put in your /etc/asound.conf, then just tell MythTV to use the sound device ALSA:ladcomp (It's under Utilities / Setup -> Setup -> General if you're using the default menus. I've hacked mine up a bit, so it took me longer to find it). It should have defaulted to something like ALSA:default. Restart MythFrontend, and voila: all your audio should play at around and about the same level. To use this, you'll need the ladspa plugins. If your MythTV is running on Ubuntu Linux (I use Mythbuntu, a version of Ubuntu oriented toward MythTV (For the non-Linux experienced, you can basically run any Linux software on any Linux box. The major difference between various Linux distributions is basically which software it installs by default, as opposed to which ones you have to download and install on your own. Ubuntu is a distribution which takes the radical step of assuming that its users may include actual human beings and might want to spend more time actually using their computer than assembling it.)), you can get them by running "sudo apt-get install ladspa-sdk swh-plugins".

If you want this trick to apply to other applications, you can tell them to use ladcomp as their audio device too. For instance, with mplayer, try mplayer -ao alsa:device=ladcomp.

If you want to do some fine tuning, you can try changing that 15 to other numbers to change the range for the final audio (You have to restart MythFrontend before the changes will be honored). I haven't found quite the right setting for me personally yet -- 15 is a bit higher than I want, I think, since it makes the "comfortable" position on my stereo's volume dial around 6 out of 30 -- I think somewhere in the 10-15 range would be better. But, at least for me, it does put MythTV in about the same volume zone as the Nintendo Wii, so I'm not racing to turn the volume down when we turn the game consoles on.

So, with any luck, and a little bit of work, you too can bend the sound system to your will, and watch whatever you like without fear of getting yelled at by your fiancee for having the TV turned up too high.

By Ross at 10:26 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)

A short story cryptically titled "Document 5274.45-024.NA107.TMpl-Cltp.16947.0087", was featured on episode 92 of Dr. Pus's "Library of the Living Dead" podcast. This is a short epistolary story which I wrote under the name "Redshoe", and aired as part of a segment called "Letters from the Dead".

My story appears around 11:44 into the program (Or 7:46, if you care to hear Dr. Pus's zombie-themed rendition of Joe Cocker's "The Letter", used to introduce the segment), and is a bit sad.

The podcast can be found here: http://dr-pus.podomatic.com/entry/2009-10-16T22_06_26-07_00

If, having listened to my story, you find that you want more, the entire "Library of the Living Dead" series can be found at http://dr-pus.podomatic.com/. It's a bit of a mixed bag, embodying both the strengths (If you're reading this blog, you know I have a thing for eschatology) and the weaknesses of the genre (Sturgeon's Law and rabid survivalist fantasy), but leaning heavily toward the awesome, and definitely worth a listen if you're into that sort of thing.

Personal Thoughts/Writing

By Ross at 11:10 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)

Tonight's foray into the land of life after the end of the world is the Ralph Bakshi animated classic "Wizards". I was drawn to this movie largely because I'd heard how it ends (Which is awesome, by the way).

I knew of Bakshi, from his work on the animated version of "The Lord of the Rings" (Hence the title of this article, as Sarumon's name was inexplicably changed in the Bakshi version), but that was sort of creepy, what with the weird rotoscoped fight scenes and just generally not very good, so it never occurred to me that Bakshi might be recognized as a great talent in the field of animation.

Wizards is the tale of two brothers, Avatar and Darth Vader, one good, one evil, set a million years in the aftermath of a nuclear war.

Yes. A million years in the future. Remember, this is literally decades before "Our world without us" was written, so, apparently anyone could guess anything they liked about how long it would take for all traces of human civilization to vanish.

Wizards
1977
Ralph Bakshi

Wizards starts off with a firm grip on this being the future-as-viewed-from-the-seventies. The opening credits use the MICR computer font. If you don't know what the MICR computer font is, here's a helpful hint: if you're over 25, close your eyes and imagine what "computer text" looks like. Yes, that's it.

See, back in the sixties, when computers were still new and fascinating and called "Electronic Brains", General Electric invented this font which, when printed in magnetic ink, could be read by a device similar to a tape recorder. Because they were about the only ones with commercial use for computers back then this was snapped up by the banks, which is why it's entirely possible that if you are still enough of a luddite to use paper checks, it may even today have your account number printed on it in MICR font. The big, blocky, funny-shaped letters became ingrained in the public consciousness as being all futuristic and stuff, so it pretty much appeared any time you wanted to indicate a high-technology future from about 1967 until about 1988.

The opening of the movie is, bizarrely, a "live action" scene. The reason for the scare quotes here are because, although this was filmed with a camera in what appears to be a real location out in the real world, there isn't really any "action" or and "live"-ness. Rather. we see a desert, and the camera moves around to show us the first page of a book, which is helpfully also printed in the MICR font, which declares itself to be, "an illuminating history, bearing on the everlasting struggle for world supremacy fought between the powers of Magic and Technology." Because, y'know, that's the story of human history. The battle between magic and technology.

We then cut to a crude sketch of the globe, and then to a screen of solid, flickery red, as if they filmed a fire, but that wasn't firey enough so they put a red filter over it too. Our narrator, a bored-sounding woman who I am going to pretend for the moment is Judy Collins, explains that some terrorists set off some atomic bombs, which led to a nuclear holocaust, which took two million years to clear up a bit, which led to most of humanity turning into horrible mutants, and also faeries and dwarves and hobbits and the like making a comeback.

This is illustrated with some uncolored sketches of what this might look like. We're now about three minutes into our animated story, and nothing has actually been animated yet.

In the smurf village, the faeries are celebrating three-thousand years of uninterrupted good times, leading me to believe that this may be where Russell T Davies got his idea for how to cnvey a sense of scale by his choice of numbers. The elf queen senses something amis, and looks to the sky, where an evil looking cloud is played by a color effect on a real cloud -- this movie is diligent about avoiding doing any actual animation. This storm causes the elf queen Delia to suddenly give birth to twins, who everyone immediately concludes are powerful wizards, because that is the name of this movie so they'd better get on with showing up.

As almost always happens in cases like this, one twin is born with a severe case of PURE EVIL. the good son is named "Avatar", and the evil son is named "Blackwolf", just to make sure that he doesn't grow up confused over whether he's the evil son or the good son. Avatar is a bit on the short side, whereas Darkseid is tall and sort of skeletal, what with his forearm being in two separate pieces with a visible hole between the bones.

When Delia dies, Darth Vader is excited, we're told, just to remind us that he's evil. He thinks this means he'll be allowed to rule the kingdom. Because he's been such a dutiful son and all. Him and Avatar fight, and their battle takes the form of... yet more still frames of uncolored sketches with a creepy live-action VFX shot in the background. We're now going on five minutes and no actual animation yet. Thanks to the fact that Avatar actually loved his mother, his pain at losing her enables him to become a Super-Saiyan and kick his brother's ass.



Darth Vader is banished, but promises one day to return and TAKE OVER THE WORLD, and finally we get to see some actual animation. Some years later, an older Darth Vader dispatches three wacky looking monsterous folks to march off through what looks like the Paris Barricade from Les Miserables, with orders to kill. We follow Necron 99, who's dressed in a sort of cross between those red full-body underwear suits you see associated with yokelness, with the flap in the back and all, and a World War I German uniform, and he rides a sort of giant anteater through the mutant Red Light District, scaring the bajeezus out of green, winged prostitutes and diminutive spade-tailed johns, as Joni Mitchel explains that he's been sent out to kill everyone who believes in magic. Also, a semi-transparent dinosaur mills around in the background for no clear reason. Hey, it's the future, that sort of thing happens.

Seriously, there's just a semi-transparent dinosaur turning around in a circle as Necron 99 rides through the wasteland. No one ever comments on it. I don't know that it counts as a Big Lipped Alligator Moment, but it's certainly a contender.


A montage ensures, wherein Necron murders a family of snorks as their leader, Gandalf, reads them a story about how all technology is evil, and the other two assassins go to a pastiche fantasy medieval kingdom and gun down everyone there because Darth Vader does not approve of renaissance festivals. Their guns borrow the sound effect from the original Star Ship Enterprise firing torpedoes.

Necron 99 is hunting a couple of elves, who are on their way to warn Avatar of the coming assassins. One of them buys it from Necron's photon torpedo gun, but the other elf manages to headshot Necron's bipedal anteater-horse-thing. Necron slouches off, looking really disturbingly sad for a soulless killing machine.


Back in the Smurf Villiage, the years have turned Avatar into a creepy dwarf with a red ball nose whose face is entirely concealed by a red beard and moustache, with a Groucho cigar. He's hanging out with the cast of an LSD-induced nightmare, including a slutty fairy and what looks like Goofy in a Guy Fawlkes mask.

Slutty McFairy teases Avatar about how the elves haven't returned yet, and acts as if this is somehow tremendously funny. Avatar implies that if they never return, this will indicate great danger out on the Big Wide World, because, y'know, people are dead. They all enjoy a hearty laugh at the prospect of the horrible deaths of their friends.

Avatar and Guy Fawlkes debate the necessity of arming themselves against the IMPENDING DOOM, in order that Avatar can explain, in direct contradiction to the backstory, that the world has been peaceful for millions of years, since technology was outlawed. Guy Fawlkes threatens to banish Avatar, which makes Slutty giggle, but she points out that "Only Avatar can make me a full-fledged fairy."


Avatar concedes (Concedes what, I don't know) and offers up some exposition, which he promptly hands over to Judy Collins, so that they don't have to animate this bit. Before he does, though, we get a glimpse of Necron 99 climbing up to the top of Avatar's penis-shaped tower. Blackwolf, Avatar and Judy explain, had spent five thousand years studying the dark arts, because this movie thinks that big numbers will impress us more than a timescale as realistic as The Legend of Ra and the Muggles


Darth Vader raises an army and tries to invade neighboring countries, but his troops, as exemplified by a strange "Oh my god, they killed Kenny!"-like scene, are retarded, and would tend to get distracted and confused, and just wander off home instead of actually conquering anything. Darth Vader was understandably upset, having gone to all the trouble of creating hideous mutant armies via magic and summoning all the forces of hell to serve as his generals, but, for reasons Avatar has not yet discovered, he finally made some kind of breakthrough, and discovered some piece of pre-holocaust technology that has turned the tide.

Guy Fawlkes, who I gather is also Slutty's dad, starts bitching Avatar out for sending the elves from the previous scene out into danger based on his weird and vague theories, when Necron 99 shows up and pumps him full of lead photon torpedoes. Necron 99, the deadliest killing machine ever devised, however, falls down dead as a result of Avatar pointing a finger at him. Slutty starts uselessly clawing at the downed assassin when the elf guy shows up, and apologizes to Guy Fawlkes's corpse for failing him. Turns out that Guy Fawlkes was the president of Smurf Village.

Back at Darth Vader's base, an alarm goes off indicating that Necron 99 is broken. Vader interprets this to mean that Necron 99 has committed suicide after successfully killing the president. It seems that without the strong leadership of Guy Fawlkes, the other nations of the earth will basically crumble before his war machine. And then, in what would be subtle foreshadowing, if you were somehow mentally handicapped, he throws in an entirely random "Sieg Heil!" to punctuate just how evil he is. Really. Just like in Captain America.



About two minutes later, while a classic creepy Bakshi rotoscoped scene plays (Seriously, this is like nightmare fuel unleaded), Darth Vader rolls out his new magic weapon: a grainy 30s Nazi Propaganda film. Yes. His secret weapon is HITLER.

Elf-land and Fairly-Land unite and prepare for World War I style trench warfare, while a veteran of the last war recalls that the last time Darth Vader attacked, the elves easily slaughtered one million of the evil mutants. In this time of peace. Anyway, the point is to backstory and remind us that the mutants don't really have anything to fight for, and therefore always end up retreating.

But this time, things are different, because this time, Blackwolf is armed with HITLER. He projects his Nazi propaganda film, and the elves are basically so entirely flummoxed by it that they just stand around in shellshocked horror and let the mutants slaughter them.

A quick perusal of Necron 99's corpse (He's a robot of some sort, but this is never actually spelled out, which is strange given their penchant for exposition) reveals Darth Vader's plan to Avatar, and he promptly declares that the evil image-projecting maching MUST BE DESTROYED, and then goes to bed. Slutty insists that her father must be avenged, and threatens Avatar with her sword, but at no point does her tone ever sound anything other than airheaded and playful. Avatar suggests that she sit, stradling him on his bed with her breasts trying their darnedest to fall out of what passes for a top in Fairyland, but would probably class more as a sort of scarf in our pre-holocaust world, for a few hours and let him think up a plan. Slutty, taking a page out of Debbie Does Dallas, responds with a befuddled "Well... All right."

The elf guy (whose name I still haven't worked out) finds this scene as weird as I do and interrupts. Avatar renames Necron 99 "Peace", or perhaps he meant to rename Slutty as "Piece", but anyway, he sends the town whore and the mighty elf warrior off to pack while he "reasons" with Peace. This results in another non-animated segment, wherein I finally learn that Slutty's real name is "Eleanor" and Elf Dude is "Weehauk." Seriously? Isn't that a town in New Jersey? "Weehauk", "Avatar", "Necron 99", "Darkwolf" and "Eleanor"? Hm. If memory serves, this movie was made slightly before Lord of the Rings, so it's really a coincidence that Ralph Bakshi will go on to make a movie whose major characters are named "Frodo", "Aragorn", "Gandalf", "Smeagol" and "Sam".

Avatar explains to the bound Peace that "This has been the biggest bummer of a trip I've ever been on," which is really saying something since they haven't left yet. Or maybe Avatar is talking about all the LSD used in the production of this movie. He makes some pretty devastatingly creepy threats about what he will do to Peace if he screws them over, explaining that it "will take twenty years to kill you, and you'll be screaming within five seconds." Our hero, ladies and gentlemen. Peace responds that "Peace wants love, wants free, will help." Great. He's going to be one of those "cute" talks-like-the-mentally-handicapped monsters. Avatar reassures his friends by doing some magic. Like all the other magic he's done so far (summoning cigars and decanting wine), it's stupid and frivolous (He levitates himself into his saddle on the back of the anteater-horse-thing), but he ends up facing the wrong way, prompting Slutty to point out, "He's getting olda but not much bolda," in what seems to be some kind of Blackspoitation heroine impersonation. Ah, the seventies.

Avatar demands a song from Slutty, because "That's why we brought you." Because, y'know, she's a girl. So that whole "Avenge my father's death" thing, yeah, we didn't really give a damn about that. She hands off to Judy Collins to do the singing, which leads to a montage of the good and kindhearted freakish demihumans cowering and lamenting how their land is now in the grips of Darth Vader and his army, and that they have no hope of resisting them, because "They have weapons and technology; we only have love." This leads to a scene with the gas-mask-wearing mentally handicapped soldiers in Vader's army. They're searching a church to find some priests, since Darth Vader believes you really need to have organized religion in order to be an evil empire.

Because Hitler Plus Jesus Equals World Domination

They find a couple of Obviously Jewish Stereotypes priests, who appear to worship the CBS Eye (Because it's THE FUTURE, get it?), and explain that they've only got time for war, not for taking care of prisoners, and would the priests please find something to do with all the civilians they've captured. The priests procede todo a weird little song and dance prayer number which I think was intendedto be sort of pythonesque, but instead manage to just be sort of offensive to your relgious sensibilities, regardless of whether you're christian, jewish, muslim, hindu, buddhist, or a worshiper of Whoops, the God of Serendipitous Calamity. Basically, if you could form a good analogue between religion and race, this would be the equivalent of a blackface minstrel show. The retarded soldiers get tired of waiting, or maybe have an attack of good taste, and blow up the church instead. For some reason. they don't decide to exit it first.

Back at Mount Doom, it is revealed that Blackwolf's about to be a daddy: he's got a ridiculously hot wife who is very pregnant. A strange mutant with a ridiculously hot wife and plans to rule the world's greatest power? How am I supposed to believe that sort of crap?

Here, Darth Vader explains that he wants to conquer the world so that Mutants will finally be free from having to live in the shadows as an oppressed sub-class just because they're hideous, hideous freaks. This really humanizes Vader and makes him seem like one of those modern well-intentioned extremists, like Magneto or Poison Ivy or Michael Moore. Of course, it would be a lot more convincing if the whole rest of the movie didn't establish the evil brother as having simply been born pure evil with a lust for evil and conquest. Also, he then finds out from his magi (Because he's the brother who hates magic and believes in technology) that his son is destined to be a mutant, so he shrugs, says "Eh, the next one will be human," and implies that he's going to have the baby killed. Way to humanize the villain, movie.

We finally return to our heroes, who are approaching a faerie forest that Peace doesn't like. It seems that Elves and Fairies don't get along, and these particular faeries might be mischievous. Except that I thought that Slutty was a fairy. In fact, I'm quite sure she mentioned it explicitly at one point. But these faeries are tiny little naked things. I'd almost suspect that this was a translation issue, like the way that old Japanese imports often use the word "star" when they mean "planet", except that English is this movie's first language. Anyway, the faeries play with our heroes for a bit while Peace looks sad. Everyone's laughing and having a good time, and then, out of nowhere, Avatar becomes finds this playfulness annoying and summons all the forces of hell to smite the faeries. Our hero, ladies and gentlemen.


It's weird, like that tunnel scene in Willy Wonka, or that scary Yoda moment. Basically, it's like when you're playing with a cat, and the cat decides that it is done playing, and when you fail to intuit this, she explains it to you by defleshing your arm. Only he does it with ALL THE FORCES OF HELL. Fortunately, just as he draws back to smite, an especially fey faery summons a great feast, which instantly calms Avatar down. He explains that his name is Shawn, leader of the Knights of Stardust, a FABULOUS order of tiny little warriors. Avatar is still annoyed, but Slutty shoves his head between her boobs and this makes him happy. But then someone assumed to be Peace starts shooting the place up, and Slutty suddenly disappears into bondage high in the mountains.

Weehauken falls into a pit which he has to fight and climg his way out of, which is entirely black and featureless, either because it makes it more dramatic, or because Bakshi got tired of drawing backgrounds, there he fights an invisible enemy because Bakshi also got tired of drawing enemies. The monster finally shows itself as a giant spider or possibly the hair monster from Looney Tunes. But Peace shows up and shoots it before he collapses for some reason. Weehauken then mounts him and falls asleep on top of him.


Slutty is put on trial for bringing the evils of technology into Fairyland, and the resulting death of Shaun the Fey. She sort of giggles at the idea of being held responsible for her actions, and then heaves her breasts around a bit, which causes her to glow red and shoot an energy beam out of her crotch.

Taking this to mean that she's come fully into her powers, Slutty then animates a gargoyle, which immediately turns on her. Avatar shows up and fails to do anything about the gargoyle, but does protest his important cause. Then, for no clear reason, Darth Vader materializes, shouts, "He lies!" then vanishes. Which causes someone to shoot Avatar in the shoulder with a tiny little arrow. The fact that this did not prompt Avatar to go on a killing rampage is taken by the King of the Faeries to mean that he can be trusted, and lets them go.

After getting lost in the mountains, Avatar and Slutty meet back up with Weehauken and his new boyfriend Peace, and then they meet up with some viking elves who are planning to attack Darth Vader, but Avatar objects to them just adding to the fighting, prompting some more backstory about how Avatar, in his younger days, roamed the earth, spreading the gospel of love and peace, and then they get attacked, in turn, by a giant evil cabbage, a bird, and a rotoscoped tank. In an utterly bizarre turn, Peace attacks the tank, and Slutty murders him, then jumps in the tank and rides off.

Avatar gets all mopey over Slutty's betrayal, and Weehauken basically has to drag him through the next part of their mission, into the stronghold of Darth Vader and his band of Nazis, which means we get treated to a scene of a bunch of mutant Nazis intimidating a young foot-tall winged faery into removing her top to sate their perverse sexual desires:

Because Ralph Bakshi knows how to creep me the fuck out with animation.

Avatar gets increasingly melancholic as the violence increases, because he's into love and peace and all that jazz, and then the viking elves attack. But because Bakshi doesn't particularly care for animation, the animated elves fight mutants played by rotoscoped humans who hover above the backdrop and are seen only in this weird sort of lithographic style. For some reason, the mutants are attacking on horseback, despite the fact that (a) they have tanks, and (b) We've established that horses have been replaced by weird bipedal anteater things.

In the close shots, the mutants turn back into animated mutants with guns, and manage ot kill a lot of the viking elves, but it's not at all clear to me who's winning in any given scene, especially with the continual changes in the art style. As before, they roll out the World War II stock footage, and the elves just stand around flabbergasted as they're blown to pieces. I'm not really sure what's going on here, whether the projected images are meant to be magically able to actually kill the elves, or if it's just a distraction.

Avatar sends Weehauken off the destroy the projector, and then plans his suicide, on account of Slutty's betrayal. He finds Slutty and prepares to kill her, but Darth Vader's Ridiculously Hot Wife stops him, and makes an incoherent, rambling speech about blood and death and fathers against sons and being fast with your blade, and this confuses Weehauken long enough for Slutty to explain that when she'd fondled Peace earlier, it had allowed Darth Vader to hypnotize her, because of Peace's mental link to the forces of Evil.

Now, the climax of this movie is one of the more awesome twists I've ever seen, so I'm actually going to put it below the jump...

Continue reading "Aruman? Really? (Ralph Bakshi's Wizards)" »

Shallow Thoughts/TV/Eschatology

By Ross at 09:37 PM | Permalink | Comments (1)

Either the captioner has lost his mind or Texas is even weirder than I imagined.

Fox News, in a piece on the Texas State Fair, reports that among the consumables at the fair are (I am not making this up) Deep Fried Coca Cola Syrup and (I wish I were making this up) Deep Fried Butter.

The captions reported that it is "Made with pure butter, then you inject labor.", and then, and, I don't know, maybe this is actually something they do in Texas, "Pure whipped daughter."

Don't mess with Texas. Or they whip, batter-dip, and deep fry your daughter.

Shallow Thoughts

By Ross at 09:35 AM | Permalink | Comments (0)

Saw this bullet point attached to a news story:

Police say killer wasn't among the dead, wasn't one of the survivors

This is one of those brain-teasers, where it turns out that the killer is a zombie or something, isn't it?

Shallow Thoughts

By Ross at 11:28 AM | Permalink | Comments (0)

In reference to my final analysis of Tomes and Talismans:

I have just now remembered the Economics-based educational series from about the same period. The one I mentioned not remembering aside from the fact that I didn't like it. It was called -- I swear I am not making this up -- "Econ and Me". It involved some kids and their magical imaginary friend Econ, who taught them about economics. And the theme song buggers the imagination (I realize that the expression is "beggars the imagination". You haven't heard this theme song. It is running through my head right now, sodomizing my corpus callosum). The refrain went something like "Econ! Let me tell ya 'bout Econ! Econ! And Me!"

This show was apparently so worthless that even YouTube has the good taste not to contain copies of it.

Which is a good thing, because I'd probably be strangely compelled to watch and recap it.

Shallow Thoughts/TV/Eschatology

By Ross at 01:04 AM | Permalink | Comments (0)

Episode four of "The Starlost" introduces us to the crew of The Pices, one of the Ark's little survey vessels. The crew has been away for ten years and has been out of contact, and is very surprised to learn that the crew are dead. Given that the crew have been dead for hundreds of years, I suspect that this episode is going to try to convince us that the crew of the Ark did not understand the concept of special relativity.

Everyone piles aboard the Pices and takes a spin around the ship to survey the damage. Then, for some reason, the captain and one of the hot chyk crewmen fall asleep. The other one babbles something incoherent about "space senility" and does the same.

The captain dismisses their claims that the accident happened hundreds of years earlier, since it's coming from a bunch of Space Amish, but they also seem a little weird. "Time does funny things in space," the captain explains, and implies that they're tired because they're old.

Eager to find their families, they rush back to the crew area, where they meet a small family who don't know them, but after pushing the old folks a bit, they manage to drag out of them that they'd heard of a ship called the Pices, from a very long time ago.

On the trashed bridge, Anton La Vey explains the mission of the Pices (and for some reason gives its size in "Jewbic Meters"). Despite the captain's admonishment, the cuter of the two bridge bunnies has the computer verify that they've been gone 400 years, and we finally get it explained: the captain had ignored some warnings about their trajectory, and they set off using some bad navigational data, which resulted in them experiencing more time dilation than they'd expected: once the Ark lost contact, they'd been unable to sync their clock to the Ark, and as a result, they'd accidentally accelerated to near the speed of light without noticing (Which is not nearly as ridiculous as it sounds. If you just lean on the gas in a space ship, and keep the pedal down for a few years, you'll just keep accelerating, and once they lost sight of the Ark, they couldn't calculate their speed relative to it).

The Pices crew gets increasingly morose about their predicament, though the more-hot chyk takes a shine to Garth, and the less-hot chyk does The Creepy Sci Fi thing where she speaks from a position of the gender views of the period that produced the show. So, 800 years in the future, a space pilot thinks that being a happy homemaker with no skills other than cooking, cleaning, and sewing is really a better life for a woman than hers. (Also, the captain's wife is recognized by the computer as Mrs. (Captain's full name).)

The captain has another episode, and Anton La Vey diagnoses him as space-senile: doomed to have his mental age rapidly increase due to the time dilation. They'll promptly have the minds of 400-year-olds unless they return to their previous time dilation.

As they all have a cracking good party to enjoy their remaining time, they watch the Pices's logs, and see "an unidentified class G solar star" -- which turns out to be the star which the Ark is going to strike. I guess a "solar star" is different from the other kind. The bridge bunnies decide to steal the Pices and shoot Devon with a phaser set to "Gurn".

They reckon that their best bet is to go back to Earth and hope that there's some of it left. While the captain objects in principle, he also objects in the pragmatic sense that he doesn't think they have enough power to go back to Earth. Devon distracts them for a minute and pulls out one of the Orange clipboards on the wall reactor cores in order to send the ship off balance. For some reason, the bridge bunnies become compliant after this, and happily pilot the ship back to the Ark.

They drop our heroes off and then decide to bugger off themselves, since a slow death in space beats space senility and the chance to help save the rest of humanity.

Good riddance, frankly.

Shallow Thoughts/TV/Eschatology

By Ross at 12:42 AM | Permalink | Comments (0)

Episode Three finally grants us the John Collicos we've been waiting for. He plays a smarmy evil guy, which I know is a stretch for this actor.

Arriving in Omicron (a dome to which they got directed by the frozen guy), our heroes get captured by guards, who totally freak when they discover Rachel's boobs: this is a society that did away with women centuries ago during a great catastrophe, and have had to subsist on artificial gestation ever since.

John Collicos, the local despot, explains that everyone thinks Rachel is the reincarnation of their goddess, and while he's far too canny to buy into that, he does realize that it would be excellent political capital if he married her, especially since he's a tyrant in the old-school sense of the word: he's only allowed to rule so long as he kills anyone who challenges him to single combat (hint hint).

Unfortunately for Devon, what few books weren't burned are now strictly limited to the local priestly caste, who won't let them read, even though they do let him and Garth hide in their temple.

John Collicos makes his plans to marry Rachel. He quite likes this talk of "love" that she keeps going on about, but he wishes she wouldn't say it around other people, what with it being a scary alien concept to their all male society.

The Original Baltar also has a weird homoerotic moment with the head priest when he says "A man who spends part of each day on his knees can't be all bad."

Though the priest has forbidden them to see the holy texts, one of the lesser priests can't help showing off some of the work he's done interpreting the writings, which makes Devon and Garth realize that a bunch of dense technical writing is sufficiently mystifying to a couple of Space Amish that even if they did get to study them.

The head priest manages to negotiate with Quinn The Renegade Alien to have Devon and Garth exiled instead of executed, but in return, he agrees not to prevent the marriage.

Collicos makes some smarmy stabs at convincing Rachel that he's in love and can become a good person with the love of a good woman. She points out that she would totally challenge him for the throne if she were a man, and Collicos weirdly replies that she would be the man he feared most.

Fortunately, Devon and Garth storm in, having convinced the palace guard that their beloved governor is forcing the goddess into marriage. Unfortunately, John Collicos's creepy homoerotic posing and shouting makes the captain of the guard wet 'em, and when they back down, Devon does the thing they've been telegraphing all episode in addition to showing in the pre-title teaser: he challenges John Collicos to single combat for rulership of Omicron. John Collicos is compelled by local law to accept, and they fight using the traditional Vulcan Omicron stick-with-weighted-ends weapons while the Kirk vs Spock Fight Music Starlost Fight Music plays.

Devon gets totally owned, because he is a simple farmer, while John Collicos is the tyrrant who rules by force, but then he for no clear reason just turns around and sort of grunts a bit, and Devon takes this opportunity to hit him in the head.

Under the code, Devon may now kill John Collicos by cutting his head off... With... The... Weighted... Stick. But, of course, Devon is a TV hero, and refuses to kill him, instead letting Collicos live, shamed by his defeat.

Instead of the governorship, Devon asks to see the writings and be allowed to leave in peace. John Collicos points out that he is entirely untrustworthy and will not keep to this agreement. But as he's just been publicly shamed and shown to be entirely vincible, he's probably going to be busy fighting off every Johnny-Come-Lately who wants to kill him.

The ancient writings turn out to be entirely indecipherable, but when Garth mentions the Ark, the priests remember some ancient legends they have about avoiding a firey demise by going to the nether-regions of the Ark. Devon, who has read the script, concludes that this indicates the existence of an auxilliary bridge, presumably in the ship's ladyparts.

John Collicos, having reasserted his dominance, shows up to capture the heroes just as they make good their escape, but then for some reason lets them go: much to his surprise, he's found that this whole "Love" thing is not entirely unpleasant, and, knowing that Rachel loves Devon and not him, doesn't want to force her into marriage any more. Moreover, despite the fact that, logically, he must have just murdered half his palace guard, having been publicly shamed by Devon twice in one day has given him the idea that it might actually be fun to try a new style of governance which isn't based on killing anyone who disagrees with you. Public shamings might work even better.

Much like the public shaming I feel now for having spent another hour of my life on this show.

Shallow Thoughts/TV/Eschatology

By Ross at 11:58 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)