I didn’t really know much about Canadians − and I mean it’s not like I do now, before all of you proud Canadians hiss at me that I know NOTHING of Canada − until I was a tween and Kids in the Hall was aired in the late hours of the night on network television in the early 1990s. So, sooo long ago. I had been fed on a steady diet of entertainment from secret Canadians up until that point. They mask their pronunciation of “sorry” and are undetectable to us. Why are they hiding this? Would Americans be racist against them, if we knew? Well, that’s a subject for a crackpot theory article on another day, because I am here JUST to talk about one specific Kid in the Hall.
Happy birthday, Dave Foley!
It’s a new year! New years call for resolutions, but what IS a resolution and how do you set them? How do you announce them? The preferred method, of course, is to hastily write an article for a website about it because you needed to set a resolution about writing content in advance yesterday, but yesterday’s gone and dead! We have to start now! NOW!
It is important to select realistic resolutions so that you don’t feel like a loser by mid-January. So often, we resolve to achieve goals that just aren’t attainable, once our character flaws come into play (and they always do). Understand your faults, and then, rather than actively try to change yourself, just change your attitude about what it is you want out of your new life this year. I think what I want is to strengthen my ability to outsource. I shall treat my life like a successful corporation. I will get so much done via other people! The dream comes true.
I like to think of myself as a cool customer, almost robotlike in my dealings with what life has to throw at me. Rational. Certainly not emotional. However, I have to face facts. I have to come clean with you all: I pretty much dramatically fall apart seven times a year or so. It’s part of my charm.
Luckily, I have friends who seem to never encourage me to let it all out of my system, and certainly don’t comfort me. They barely endure me, probably! Oh god.
I guess the REAL “luckily” is that this treatment often can snap me out of it somewhat, and I can distract myself with something that can become wildly profitable some day. At the very least, because of the comic below, now you know that writing goth caveman poetry is therapeutic, because doing this cured my Bout on the day this comic was made. Try it yourself sometime.
Ho ho ho, or so I am told. It is Christmas Day both far and wide as I write this. Almost everyone knows everything there is to know about this Christian holiday thanks to television, movies, radio, every single store, and the mouths of anyone you might eavesdrop on. Chances are, someone you know might even celebrate it, religiously!
Here at the Sneer Campaign, we enjoy wrapping and giving gifts, and maybe one of us likes decorating a tree. I’m actually not a very Christmassy person, but Dollissa wrote about Hanukkah, so it’s my turn to take one for the team. Also, I didn’t send out cards in time, and that’s the only tradition for this holiday that I actually enjoy. Sorry!
Please accept this drawing as my card to you, everyone who missed getting real tangible mail from me this year.
The human celebrity is a creature that is much sought-after indeed. For whatever reason, these celebrity people have given up any chance of privacy or normal living so that they can be recognized wherever they go, mobbed by crowds of frightening strangers, followed by photographers, ambushed by undercover police, and hunted by stalkers. I suppose they enjoy all of that attention, and of course also the millions of dollars that are delivered to them by dump truck every morning. It would be all peaches and sunshine if these famous people could get attention, cash dollars, and sprawling mansions without having to feel annoyed or even occasionally terrified. It would be rainbows and roses if they could only be seen in clubs and restaurants and gated communities where only other pretty people with equal levels of wealth and fame could see each other and they’d never ever be bothered by gross icky nobodies like the rest of us.
However, this is simply not the case.
Modern celebrities must indulge us by appearing to be reasonably nice and approachable (preferably without having to demonstrate these traits too often) because if they do not, then their beloved popularity can suffer. And popularity is very, very important. If they fall out of favor, it is sometimes quite difficult to ever return to their former glory.
I am going to explain to you all how to wheedle yourselves into the lives of any celebrity of your choosing by coming across as charming, lovely, and worthwhile through written letters. You’ll thank me when this is all over, although I may get some anger from the famous person quadrant if you don’t get it right, so please pay attention.
I’ll be bringing you a little yuletide cheer this week by talking a little bit about Nestor the Long-Eared Christmas Donkey. Oh, wait. Did I say “cheer” because that is actually the opposite of what I meant to say. What I have dredged from my soup of far distant childhood memories is a Christmas special that I saw when I was maybe eight or nine that was SO DEPRESSING that I only saw it once, and it made me cry. It made me cry outrageously hard. This animation AGED ME far beyond my years and I will never forgive it.
I don’t even know how popular this one is. When I was little, I loved animated specials very much, so I would be sure to catch them whenever they were on. Not this one though. I am not sure if it is because I just avoided it magically, or if it was only shown one time because it inspired a wave of angry calls from parents. I can’t really even remember what upset me so much about it, except for one obvious part I will tell you about in a moment, as we watch it together, hand in hand.
So, let’s get this over with, my friends, my strangers. Let’s watch Nestor the Long-Eared Christmas Donkey – for the first time in decades. Let’s see if it will stir up more feelings, feelings I have spent a lifetime trying to silence. And for those of you who don’t feel like watching along with me, I’ll just summarize this son of a button for you as it goes along.
E. C. Segar is one of my heroes. Have you ever read his comics? They’re so good! Sometimes I think I’d like to be a cartoonist as a living but I wouldn’t be satisfied unless they were equally as good as Segar’s work. I would say “or better” but I can’t imagine that anything could BE better! His Popeye comics (called “Thimble Theatre”) were most successful in the 1920s, but then he died at a TRAGICALLY YOUNG age (only forty-three!). The comics ended too soon. He had a hand in the very early Popeye animated delights, which, if you’ll notice, are super good especially as compared to the awful cartoons from the 1950s or whenever when he had annoying nephews. What was up with cartoon characters having annoying nephews for a while?
Anyhow, go buy the wonderful Popeye Collection, or read them online somehow, or just take delight in my comic, below, where I did my best to tell a story with the Thimble Theatre characters. I hope Segar would be proud of my effort.
I have spoken of my enjoyment of and experimentation with sleeping to the ambient sounds of certain things offered on Youtube. One day, I again found myself perusing the vast and baffling selection on there and I shared this particular finding with my longtime friend, Kevin. He and I had not discussed this interest of mine before, and I was delighted and then dismayed to find that he, too, has opinions about this genre of sound. He came at me with some pretension, sweet readers! Sure, that overwrought description wasn’t his own wording, but he DID quote it at me, and he even put in a “[sic]” note. Also the fact that he immediately thought of this track… are these tracks? No. I guess they are audio experiences. He probably had a dozen other youtube sounds that he also thought of, but this is the one we get.
And as an added bonus, you get to be exposed to two wonderful new sleepy videos! Truly, we are all #blessed.
starring Groucho Marx
Kakistocracy: (n.) government under the control of a nation’s worst or least-qualified citizens