Somewhat recently, fellow resident of the Sneer House, Lisa, and I took a trip to the Midwestern United States’ Largest Flea Market, which is conveniently located just north of Cincinnati. For those of you unfamiliar with the large scale flea market, let me just describe it as an expansive building filled with booths that are full of an array of garbage that is for sale. Some of the booths actually sell quality items, and you wonder what they are doing there, but mostly it seems to be junk that fell off of the back of a truck and these people scavenged it and put low, low price tags on it — or absurdly high price tags. For those of you who ARE familiar with flea markets, you know that the “bottom” in my title means a butt.
Tag: too long
I’m not sure if you guys ever noticed this, but updates on this site can ebb and flow. As we are the most depressed mini-cluster of writers on the internet, this makes perfect sense. At any given moment, one or all of us is in the throes of a crippling despair — or, in contrast, one or all of us is chirpy and pleased with life. This wide range in overall mood is reflected in our overall productivity, here at the Sneer Campaign and also in every single aspect of our lives.
I guess I should start off by telling you about Depression, as if you are at all strangers to the concept. But I know our demographics. You’re all a bunch of first world 20- and 30-somethings mostly. I assume you are all actually in the midst of your own Pity Parties RIGHT NOW, and are just taking a break to read this article in the hopes of finding some gentle humor to ease your troubled souls. Well, indulge me here for a minute. Pretend that you are all perfect spring flowers and have never seen a reason to frown in your life. Do you remember what that feels like? I think I might, but I could also be severely mistaken and I am just emotionlessly imagining the color blue. But emotionlessness is just an absence of sadness, and that doesn’t automatically mean “happiness.” Although some days, it is just as welcome of a relief. Am I even getting ahead of myself here? You can bet no one cares.
Everyone has a point in their life where they wonder just how badly they are failing at becoming an adult. Many of us have this same point of worry multiple times in a week! This is a completely natural concern. We all also seem to eventually have a moment where we gasp, clutch at our hearts, and realize with horror that we have become our parents. Or at least, that we are getting very close to being our parents which then causes us to overreact and act like young people again but it is always pathetic because once you’ve reached a certain point of growing up, you can’t go back and oh god it makes me sick all of the time lost hold on I have to go hyperventilate into a brown paper bag.
Now you might be thinking to yourselves, you might even be shouting at your computer screens, “Amandoll, what would you of all people know about growing up? Look at you. You have never worked, you aren’t married, you never want kids, you’ve never even driven a car. Do you know what else you don’t have? You don’t have a bank account. You don’t even qualify as a thirteen year old most of the time, honestly. God. What good ARE you??”
WELL LISTEN, I may not have, like, practical experience on this matter, but I insist that I am very good at making observations and then taking these observations and creating threads of words with them that I can then pretend make good article topics for articles that need to be written as soon as possible because my goodness it is any day of the week already and I need more content all the time more more! Also I am pretty okay at crafting run on sentences of pure excellence today. It is my gift to you all.
Felix the Cat, the character, came to be in 1919, although his bag of tricks wasn’t a thing until the 1950s. Felix was created by the Australian animation studio run by Pat Sullivan. It’s also possible Felix was actually created by Otto Mesmer, Sullivan’s lead animator.
The 1988 movie was widely criticized for, well… being poorly-drawn nonsense. And boy is it ever!
Come with us, on a journey through… Felix the Cat: The Movie.
We mentioned Dumbo recently in our post about how Tim Burton is going to ruin it. The 1941 animated film Dumbo was based on a toy. The toy idea was pretty much just a storytelling device anyway, and Disney bought the toy in order to make the movie.
During the making of the movie, there was a strike. What led to the strike – including economic turmoil, the war, more unions, and Disney’s reduction in bonuses to employees – is a whole other story. Although the strike lasted five weeks, Dumbo was finished and released. It was made using approximately $950,000.
After a glorious introduction of circus music during the credits, the movie starts by showing us a bunch of adorable baby animals tumbling out of their blankets after being dropped off by storks, the UPS of the Animal Kingdom. All baby animals appear to only have a mother, except for the lucky tiger litter, who seem to have a whopping two parents. Mrs. Jumbo waits sadly for a delivery of her own.
Then, as if circuses aren’t awful places, and probably especially awful in 1941, a crew of smiling animals calmly walk to their homes, each into the appropriate car on the train. For some reason, the train is also a living thing, named Casey Junior. At least he has a great theme song!
And don’t worry about Mrs. Jumbo. You see she has the same UPS guy as me, and he was just exceptionally late. Also: clumsy and unable to read a map. He chases down the train and hops from car to car in a way that only a cartoon bird would.
He finds her with her nosy elephant cohorts and recites some poetry at her, then asks for a signature. Then he sings happy birthday into the bundle, at little Jumbo Jr., while hiccuping oddly, like some sort of drunk, before falling out the window.
Mrs. Jumbo’s bitchy elephant diva cohorts are bitchy elephant divas. We’ll get back to them.
Baby Dumbo is literally the cutest thing that has ever happened on the earth.
Then, he sneezes, and bitchy diva elephants laugh, point, touch, and gossip when his adorable giant ears flap out. Mrs. Jumbo strikes out for the first time, angrily swatting them away from her baby. The mean ladies nickname him Dumbo, to be mean, but it’s pretty cute.
Whatever, bitches. Mrs. Jumbo is in love with her baby boy and his ears, as any mother would be.