Category Archives: Bad Influences
Kurt Ro-Bain
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Filed under Bad Influences, Comix Classic & Current, Idiot's Delight, Magazine Rack, Robot Toy Fetish
Signature Moves
Why is Walt Disney’s signature on Star Wars?
Look, kids! Vague, controllable versions of things you love! Signed by a corpse who had no part in any of it! BUY BUY BUY!!!
Not just his name; his signature. As though he was the architect of its design. Walt Disney created Mickey Mouse and Donald Duck, right? Tinkerbell, sparkly glitter, and magic castles. Horrible TV-movies every Sunday. That’s Walt Disney. Around 1980, I was into Star Wars to get away from all that corny shit.
Now you’re telling me it’s Walt Disney’s property?
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Filed under Bad Influences, Don't Know Don't Care, Idiot's Delight, Movies You Missed, Nostalgic Obsessions, Saturday Movie Matinee, Unfairly Maligned
The Loudness War
From 1992 to 1995, I worked in the music store on the upper level of the Savannah Mall. Disc Jockey was the other music store, on the lower level and the opposite end. Our respective locations affected our clientele; we were next to the upscale department store, and they were next to the parking lot.
Of course there was a rivalry.
Despite what you might think, it was friendly. We all ate in the same food court, and used the same deposit chute. If a customer stumped our staff, we’d begrudgingly call downstairs and ask their staff. Sometimes one store knew something the other didn’t. Upcoming trends in music, promotions, closings, and firings within the busy mall.
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Filed under Bad Influences, Faint Signals, Idiot's Delight, Thousand Listen Club, Worst Of All
Just A Pod
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Filed under Bad Influences, Comix Classic & Current, Faint Signals
Captain Zip: Solarnaut
From BIUL #1. ©Matty Boy Anderson.
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Filed under Bad Influences, Comix Classic & Current, Faint Signals, Nostalgic Obsessions
I Know Everything
From BIUL #1.
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PaRappa the Crapper
Long ago, in the Before Times, I was dating a woman with a very young daughter. I had not yet gelled as an artistic entity, and was in the process of learning that I’m really not cut out to be a father, even a surrogate one. This became apparent on two occasions. Both were attempts on my part to make a connection with a kid. Both failed hilariously.
The first was the purchase of a “children’s book”. I spent hours at Books-A-Million (down the block from Media Play) hunting for just the right one. It had to be colorful, clever, and not condescending. I refused to buy anything “kiddie”, on principle. It had to be something that enticed, thrilled, and sparked the imagination, like the books I read in my grade school library.
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Filed under Bad Influences, Don't Know Don't Care, Faint Signals, Girls of BIUL, Idiot's Delight, Nostalgic Obsessions, Robot Toy Fetish, Thousand Listen Club
The Face of Kellyanne
Last year, all I wanted to do was crack jokes about Hillary Clinton’s ever-smug face. Her daughter Chelsea, too. Throw in that awful Debbie Wasserman Shultz, and you’ve got a trifecta of ghoulish visages I was literally salivating to goof on. Caricature unflatteringly, at the least.
And I didn’t.
I didn’t make fun of the women at the Trump rally, either. I couldn’t; they were all attractive, and could possibly have shamed me as a man.
While the entire media industry decided to make fun of Donald Trump’s face, like a bus full of second-graders, I didn’t stoop to their level. And oh, they had a field day. They’re still doodling him as an anus, or a Cheeto. I’ve seen that illustration of Trump as a shit-spattered baby so many times I could forge it from memory.
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Filed under Bad Influences, Don't Know Don't Care, Girls of BIUL, Idiot's Delight, Worst Of All
A Toast To Absent Friends
Imagine if legendary and revered comedian Bill Hicks hadn’t died in 1994.
Some people believe Alex Jones is really Bill Hicks. I am not among them.
What if- just hear me out- he supported Trump in 2016? How would that make you feel about him? What if he’d gone “right-wing”, pre- or post-9/11? Would he still be referenced in Tool songs?
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Filed under Bad Influences, Faint Signals, Idiot's Delight, Nostalgic Obsessions
Dear Bubble People
Wanna make sure I never watch your movie or show?
Title it “Dear White People”.
Scrub away guilt!
I won’t touch it. I don’t respond well to condescension. I could contract full-blown AIDS, “Dear White People” could have the cure, and I’d die happily, blissfully ignorant, broth bowl in hand, tumbling to the linoleum with a smile.
Any white person who would willfully watch something titled “Dear White People” is fearful of people who aren’t white. Period.
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