In case you haven't seen my review of "Beyond the Black Rainbow" you can see it on my Blip channel. It's about 15 minutes long which is how long I watched that movie before I gave up on watching anything ever again.
Trivia Time... the music of BtBR was composed by Jeremy Schmidt of relevant prog-rock band "Black Mountain." Here's "The Hair Song" from their latest album "Wilderness Heart."
I give the music of BtBR a tough time, but that's just because of guilt through association. Sure it sounds like dubstep in slow-motion and gets as grating as free-basing Clorox, but synthesizer magician Schmidt composes the perfect mood for the film that really makes it bearable. Listen to the sounds of this scene.
Makes you want to go to the arcade and spend all your quarters on Galaga, doesn't it? You know, plenty of critics have been giving this movie a hard time, and you'd think I'd agree with them, but the more the critics knock this movie, the more I want to like it. It's as though I have to be contrary... but changing my opinion means I would have to re-shoot the episode, and I'm not doing that.
In my actual review, there are two copyrighted songs I have sampled (Fair-Use, parody, Bill of Rights, and all that). One of these is Cream's SWLABR which I'm sure you've all heard me reference on plenty of occasions. The other is "Rainbow Man" from The Orange Alabaster Mushroom. At the time, I selected the song because it fit the mood and contained the word rainbow ("Somewhere Over the Rainbow" was too obvious). But I'm just now realizing how suiting it is. The Orange Alabaster Mushroom is a musical project from Canadian musician Greg Watson that sprang up in the early 1990s and recreated the textured sound of the late 60s. Seems similar to what Panos Cosmatos was doing with BtBR, eh? So here is "Rainbow Man" in full (pending Youtube take-down, blah-blah).
You wouldn't think that I, the Obscure, would like something as Lame-stream as Doctor Who, but I've been addicted since 2006. Me, addicted to something? Never.
Before I became a regular viewer, I had some misconceptions about the long-running program. Here's a synopsis of what I thought the show was about: "A professor in a magic phone booth leaps through time and space, each leap taking him closer to home while also ensuring that his parents meet so he doesn't get wiped from existence. With help from Jerry O'Connell and John Rhys Davis, Mr Who (his first name is probably something like Bertrand or Wellington) constantly does battle with the evil Ransik (played by the villain from Commando), set to the music of Rockapella (and later that annoying musical trio that plays all the other characters). Based on the story by HG Wells."
Yeah, not even close. So one afternoon in 2006, I decided to finally watch an episode of Doctor Who. That episode was "Fear Her," one of the most universally-panned episodes of the new series. As someone new to the program, what did I think? I thought "Holy-Camolie, this show is AWESOME!" I then found season one on Netflix and began from the beginning... of the new series. Then, while I awaited the release of Season Two, I watched a lot of the old series and discovered decades worth of campy, crazy fun. Then I made my way through Season 2 and, when I watched this particular episode for the second time, I realized it was rather weak and ridiculous in comparison to everything else I had seen so far.
But I like to hold this episode as a testament to the greatness of the series: even one of its weakest stories is enjoyable and miles beyond a lot of other crap on TV. An outsider can really be drawn-in by the amazing character that is Wellington Who and the concept of time/space travel. Truly, one of the greatest story vehicles of all time.
On the other hand, if I had seen the episode "Love and Monsters" first, I probably would have reacted by saying: "this show sucks. You Who-vians are a bunch of freaks!"
Oh my God, this is the best movie ever!
...
OK, no it's not. In fact, it's rather unbearable. But don't take my word for it. Take my spoken word for it. Check out my first ever straight-up film review of "Beyond the Black Rainbow," a Canadian sci-fi homage to the films of the late 60s, early 70s, and a bit of the 80s for good measure.
Welcome to yet another series, Media Mixtape Meltdown. Basically, this is an experiment in my style but also a cheap excuse to show off a bunch of stuff I like. Consider it a living "You Might Also Like" section where I give a brief background and insights into the chosen media. This first mixtape's theme is 2-D animation and features four items: a movie, a series, and two shorts. Take a look if you want to discover something new or rediscover something you may have already seen.
One thing I often forget is that not every artist is restricted to their medium or style. Recently I began research on the Godfather of anime Osamu Tezuka and found that, while I have only an average amount of interest in his famed titles (Astroboy, Kimba the White Lion, etc), I can't get enough of his early work. Take a look at Tezuka's mixed-media piece "Memory" from 1964. At first glance, you might think this is some Max Fleischer fringe work, but it is the work of Tezuka who offers not only a fun and unique animation style, but also an insightful narrative about the mechanics of the human memory. Seeing as how "memory" is 50% of the title of my most popular series, I thought it appropriate to steal be inspired by this piece. So enjoy.
I'm really digging this old ad for Zayre, a now defunct department store. They had everything I needed. Everything I wanted. This has got to be one of the most aggressive commercials selling such normal things.
The other day, weevils got into my music collection. They laid their eggs all over my Mp3s, so I had throw it all out along with a bag of flour infested with millipedes. Now I'm starting over and finding new music. I'm feel like I'm off to a good start.
I've literally just now, this second, as I write this, discovered a new band that goes by the name DJANGO DJANGO. Their debut, self-titled album premiered in January in the UK, but won't hit American shores to steal hard-working American jobs until later this month. So technically, this is new music. I may retain my hip-card.
"Django Django" album cover
The music reminds me of... well not a lot really, as it attains a level of originality not often found in debut albums, but my thoughts turn to the psychedelia of Tame Impala or Pond as well as the rocky-bluesy twang of the Black Keys. Both comparisons are a bit of a stretch, but the whole album manifests the spirit and musical aesthetic of David Byrne. We hear that steely guitar work of the American west (hence the dounble-Django all the way across the title), African-style beats, and a buzzy synthesizer that recalls old days spent in front of the Calicovision.
The layers on these tracks are thick as a triple layer quesadilla, so have fun listening again an again. The music is still fresh in my mind, so only time will tell if this collection of songs will last or become dull with their novelty. Take a listen to their single "Default" which features a music video that just shouts "ART STUDENTS, ART STUDENTS, ART STUDENTS!"
As sure as the sun will rise, when a popular series reaches Netflix, each and every one of your stupid little friends and their stupid little dogs is watching it obsessively. They tweet spoilers, update their Facebooks about how they are skipping work/class to have a Netflix marathon, and ask what episode you are on.
I know because I am one of them.
It happened when Netflix got The Walking Dead, Portlandia, and Game of Thrones. Now, it is happening with David Lynch's surreal murder mystery Twin Peaks. For those of you who don't remember the series's initial run in the early 90s, Twin Peaks was a surprise phenomenon that had everyone wondering who killed Laura Palmer... as well as wondering: "what the hell drugs taking going on midget giant horse owl, wut?" Needless to say, the show was popular and is now seeing a resurgence thanks to DVD and streaming releases (finally).
This brings me to Sesame Street... weird transition, right? Well, Sesame Street has always been one for parodying and referencing media way over the average toddler's head, but the parent's were in the room, so may as well make them laugh, too. I recently rediscovered an old sketch from the recurring "Monsterpiece Theater" bit, an age-inappropriate joke in itself. In this skit, Cookie Monster plays Kyle Mcclaughlin's FBI agent Cooper as he investigates the town of "Twin Beaks" to figure out where the town got it's name. The clip is below, pending copyright yadda-yadda...
Having watched the series, I can now catch the references such as the tape recorder, the reference to Diane, and the "Log-Bird." I'm genuinely surprised the writers of this script went into that much detail. Now, even though kids wouldn't understand these in-jokes, they would still (being avid TV watchers) know OF Twin Peaks. They would know that it's a show about an investigator in a strange small town just as they would at least KNOW OF Masterpiece Theater. Thus proves my point, we don't give kids enough credit for what they do know.
And by the way, Sesame Street hasn't changed it's formula much. There is a recent sketch called "True Mud." Guess what that's a parody of.
PS: Apparently there is also an episode of Darkwing Duck called "Twin Beaks" which also contains references to the show. Damn, Twin Peaks took a hold on people's imaginations back then, eh?
Go and enjoy The Mysterious World is Your Oyster" now on Reviewtopia. Join Arthur C Clarke as he goes in search of the legendary me: the Obscure.
Having rewatched this episode, I noticed something I had forgotten about. At the end of the video, after the credits, I included a strange outtake in which I listen to the radio. Most people think it's funny and all, but probably don't know what's going on. So I'll explain it!
The radio I was using is an old piece I used in the days before satellite radio or Internet stations. You know, when FM stations didn't suck. It broke years ago and hadn't worked since, until I turned the dial during filming and the thing came to life. You can see my genuine surprise as an announcer radiates clearly through the speaker. And wouldn't you know it? It's a Christian broadcasting station. Well of course it is! God forbid (literally) that I get a decent pirate radio station or something cool. I decide to listen to this strange station and not stop the camera. A guy comes on the station who claims to be meteorologist Mike Buresh, but as a Jacksonville native, I can tell you that was not Mike Buresh. It was a doppelganger apparently. Towards the end of the clip, I am about to comment about how strange it is that this radio station should come through so clearly when others won't, but I am interrupted by terrible stock music, so I do the most practical thing: I punch the radio in the face. And no, that is not the radio from The Brave Little Toaster (future episode). I just thought I'd clarify exactly what was happening in that clip. You know, suck the mystery out of it.
TRIVIA: In the take I did use in the episode, you can hear a weird static-filled, distorted noise in the background. Oddity-buffs (or readers of Cracked.com) will recognize that as one of the legendary broadcasts of the Backwards Music Station. Just a little Easter egg for those of you paying attention to the details.
PS. Now the radio really is broken and won't turn on... oops.
As I approach my ONE YEAR ANNIVERSARY UNSPECIAL, I am reminded of some of the works and people that inspired me to do my thing. I could ramble on and on about any number of comedians or comedy teams that inspired all us Internet funny-people, but I decided to go with something more unknown: "The Life and Times of the Thunderbolt Kid."
Written by travel writer Bill Bryson and published in 2006, TLATOTTB (say that five times fast) is an autobiography recounting the author's younger days in Des Moines, Iowa. We don't get a bitter, self-congratulating heroic epic bragging about a hard upbringing in a shotgun neighborhood. Lord knows we get enough of that phony abalone (I was going to say bologna, but abalone is far more delicious). It's as refreshing as an abalone to read something a bit more positive but still honest and real. I for instance don't look at my upbringing as either stupendously great or stupendously stupid, but rather I see it for what it was: a mix of the good and the bad. That's the tone set here. Bryson riffs on 60s Midwestern society for the sake of parody and not animosity. He makes fun of his parents not to belittle them, but to mock his own childish mindset. Above all, he brings back his alter-ego, the Thunderbolt Kid, a super-powered alien prince sent to Earth to live among humans. I'm pretty sure Bill is actually an alien. How else would he be able to write about nearly everything?
Many of the chapters deal with a different aspect of Bryson's childhood, and much of it is told through a child's eyes, thereby forcing the reader to return to a youthful state of mind. It's this kind of nostalgia that brought about the series Memory Lane. I myself remember so many toys, games, movies, and aspects of life in my decade that few people outside of my generation will understand (AOL, anyone?). If you read any one part of this book, read Bryson's description about model airplanes. That chapter alone inspired the episodes "We All Scream for Yellow #5" and "Top 5 Obnoxious Toys." I just wanted to be a guy sitting back and recounting days long passed, cracking a few jokes, and looking at the things that made us the people we are today.
Then I discovered that people on the Internet had been doing this for years already. Damn... Oh well, this book is certainly worth a look. Here's an animated excerpt narrated by BB himself.
