Category Archives: Eatable Things

Front 242

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Filed under Bad Influences, Comix Classic & Current, Eatable Things, Thousand Listen Club

Forgotten Freedoms

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Filed under Bad Influences, Comix Classic & Current, Eatable Things, Faint Signals, Magazine Rack, Nostalgic Obsessions

Green Cards

On this special day, as many gather to celebrate the incineration of healing plants (or Hitler’s birthday/anniversary of Columbine, for the sickies), please enjoy these clip-n-save trading cards. They’re just the thing you need, for when you have to deal with the dark side of getting stoned.

Ask Mom for help before toking up, or using the scissors on your computer monitor. Fold along center line.

“The Microphone”

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Filed under Bad Influences, Comix Classic & Current, Eatable Things, Idiot's Delight, Magazine Rack

The Shnoz of Charles de Gaulle

Ahh, the French!

adore them. Their art, their culture, their contributions to the enlightenment of our world. Hate me all you want, but I never felt prouder of Donald Trump than I did when he refused to shake Angela Merkel’s hand for a photo op. Trump didn’t want to get France’s blood all over his hand, and Merkel’s mitts are positively oozing with the spilt plasma of Europe.

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Filed under Animation Analysis, Eatable Things, Faint Signals, Thousand Listen Club, Unfairly Maligned

Valentine’s Vern

My dwarf hamster Vern (aka Vernal Squeequinox) has a Valentine just for you!

You might notice that Wheeljack makes an unscheduled cameo, and that my camera is busted (hence the cinéma vérité/shaky camera effect). Cheerios are like crack to Vern.

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Filed under Eatable Things, Girls of BIUL

Sponge

Oh boy, it’s “Song”, from “Band”! How exciting!

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Filed under Don't Know Don't Care, Eatable Things, Faint Signals, Idiot's Delight, Nostalgic Obsessions

The Commoditization of Emotional Discovery

Feel like crying?

There’s an entire genre of movies, TV shows and music, explicitly designed to mollify you in your time of emotional distress. Plus, there’s a contrived ending that tells you everything’s okay. Or not. It’s basically sadness porn, after all.

Feel like laughing? Same deal. Entire blocks of television programming are devoted to laughter, loaded with disparate commercials for unhealthy items and services. You can “binge-watch” every stand-up special a comedian has produced, and then argue about a decrease in their edge, on the Internet. Isn’t that fantastic?

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Filed under Don't Know Don't Care, Eatable Things, Idiot's Delight, Nostalgic Obsessions, Robot Toy Fetish, Uncategorized, Worst Of All

Before It Was Choked On

Look, choking sucks. I don’t have to point that out, do I? And truthfully, most toys have small parts these days, and there’s a warning about them on the package. But those clickers are long gone. They blocked a toddler’s airway better than a spoonful of shellac.

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Filed under Bad Influences, Comix Classic & Current, Eatable Things, Faint Signals, Idiot's Delight, Nostalgic Obsessions, Robot Toy Fetish, Saturday Movie Matinee

The Necco Betrayal

Everyone loves a gingerbread house. Even South Park’s hate campaign against the “ginger” couldn’t dull the sugary luster of the beloved cookie-built domicile. You probably remember the first time you saw one, right? Or the first time you smelled one?

How to make me put a ring on it*, chapter one. (*the robot.)

Sometime in the late 1970s, at my local church, I spied and smelled a real, elaborate gingerbread house for the first time. It was during an Advent festival, with apple-cheeked residents of my snowy hometown selling pinecone ornaments and weaving fragrant holiday wreaths budded with hollyberry. Someone had knocked themselves out on the centerpiece, a resplendent dwelling of gingerbread with all the confectionery trimmings, the kind that lured the likes of Hansel and Gretel to their near-doom.

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Filed under Don't Know Don't Care, Eatable Things, Faint Signals, Idiot's Delight, Nostalgic Obsessions, Worst Of All

No News Is Good News

Let me tell you one of the ways my beloved mother drove me up the wall when I was growing up.

She watched the 5 O’Clock News every day.

Bum bum BUM bum BUM!

Bum bum BUM bum BUM!

I grew up in Jersey, part of the Tri-State Area, which includes New York, where I was born. In 1972. Otherwise known as The Year Everything Went Straight To Hell. Continue reading

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Filed under Bad Influences, Don't Know Don't Care, Eatable Things, Faint Signals, Idiot's Delight, Nostalgic Obsessions, Worst Of All