Chinatown

Charles Phoenix's "Disneyland" tour of Downtown Los Angeles made a stop at Chinatown.
The original Chinatown was demolished long ago to make room for Union Station.  This one, so I hear was built by movie set designers.
  It smells (and sounds like) firecrackers.

 

This was once a restaurant.  Now it's a gift shop.

Check out the details in the paint!

 

I fell in love with this boar.  I'd have bought him if I had a place to put him.

Alert the fire department.  There's a cat in the tree!

Union Station

I took Charles Phoenix's "Disneyland" tour of Downtown Los Angeles on Sunday.  It's an eclectic mix of history, architecture, culture and kitsch.. 
My only regret is that I didn't take more pictures.  I have a fossil digital camera with a limited image card.  I'd meant to buy a better one, but lack of time (and my tightwad ways) got the better of me.

We started at Union Station.   Built in the 1930s, it's the size of a blimp hanger and covered with intricate tiles and panels.  As I feared, light from the huge windows washed out most of my internal photos.  The restaurant (now closed but well-maintained), turned out o.k.

As did this...

...whatever-it-is...
A cone of rocks rises incongruously from a tiled bench.  Phoenix calls it "The Matterhorn".  There is a resemblance.   I like it best up close. 

Note the cobalt blue bottle.   Are any modern products sold in these?  I've seen brown and green bottles on store shelves, but no blues.  Where did the blues go?

*current tours are sold out, but click here to check for more.

The Three Ugly Truths

Remember the first time you heard your voice on tape?  I do.
It startled me. I expected it to sound the way it did in my head. It didn't! 
That stupid sounding voice is me?I sound like a gray-toothed rube! And I'd  thought I was a normal kid! Oh, the horror.

The next ugly truth came a few years later.  I taped myself singing along to the radio.  I used an earpiece to hear the radio (and to make sure it didn't drown out my voice.)  Playback was revealing.
I sounded terrible!   Demented!  This was me singing?!   All this time I thought I was a normal singer.  Now I knew better.

The final horror happened when I was a young adult.  I saw- gasp- myself on videotape.   What a slap that was!  That's me!? I thought,  That fidgety, freaky, pale, high strung, lunatic was me?   And  I'd  thought I was a (semi) normal adult.  Now I knew better!
 I bet I'm not the only one who was horrified the first time they heard their voice or saw themselves on videotape.   Were you?

The "I amTelling You Something" Pose.

If you watch clips from old Saturday morning cartoons  you'll spot characters making the same basic poses.   The arms are thrust down at forty five degree angles, bent up into a weird half shrug, or a combo of the two.  I think it's cartoon shorthand for "I am telling you something."  Or, to be snarky, "I am telling you something you already know."
For example, two cartoon kids are playing catch.  The ball crashes through a window.  Kid one assumes the  pose and says "Oh no.  The ball went through the window!" (thanks for clearing that up).  Kid two, also posing, observes, "Mom's not gonna like this!" (in case you were wondering).
Where did these poses come from?   I rarely see them in real life.  Who thought it was a good idea to animate so many characters like that?   I try not to criticize other people's art*.   Any idiot can say "That's bad" or "You're doing it WRONG!"...
...but something about the really cheap, badly written cartoons  makes me picture some cynical suit running the show with the kids are so stupid that they'll watch anything philosophy.   Plus the  Artists don't know &*#! about business so why should I take suggestions from them?  attitude.
I'm aware that animation is expensive and shortcuts need to be taken, but still...
Or am I just being cranky?

*Okay, I still make fun of Thomas Kinkade, but I figure with the bucks he's raking in, he wouldn't mind.

Funhouse Exterior Concept

Here's some test animation I did for the fun house exterior. I may change it for the final cartoon - it's a bit derivative of Sally C's cartoon houses and I don't want to be a crook.
Sorry I haven't been posting more. Work is keeping me busy.

The Anti-Muse

Greek mythology gave us the muses. The poetry muse inspires poets. The musical muse inspires musicians. Dramatic and Comedic muses help playwrights and writers. Had animation existed in ancient times, I'm sure an animation muse would have been thrown into the mix.
The ancients have also overlooked the worst muse of all. She's the Anti-Muse. Her job is to sabotage creativity. A stern guardian at the threshold of ideas. She won't even let you have a peek at the bad ideas.
I've been working on my Flash cartoon. I've blocked most of it and have done a lot of the rough animation. I saved the musical bridge of the song for last. My characters would spend it in a fun house were all sorts of cartoon craziness would happen. Anything could happen! It would be so fun!
Then it was time to start the funhouse sequence. I was stumped.
My inner dialog played like this.

Namo1:Now what?

Namo2:It's a fun house. Have weird things happen.

Namo1:Like what?

Namo2:You know all about Laff-in-the-Darks. Have corny stuff jumping out at them. Or make it  a walk through with goofy floors.

Namo1:I'm drawing blanks.  Can't think of a thing.

Namo2:Oh for crying out loud. Have anything jump out at them. Have office supplies jump out at them. Have junk mail and pop up windows chasing them around. Send a giant rolling cheeseball after 'em.

Namo1:Arrg!!   "Fun House" is too broad.  Now if it were "Fun House" + Pickles, say, I'd have more to work with.  They'd ride pickle mobiles with picklechip wheels.  There'd be a volcanoes spewing condiments.  A relish monster.  Pickled artichoke forests! Flying peperoncini!

Namo2: That's nice, but it's not Funhouse + Pickles.  

(Loop back to the top of the dialog to continue conversation)       

Anyone know how to make the Anti-Muse go away?

Freaks

Film directer Tod Browning worked carnivals when when he was younger, both as a talker ("Step right up folks...!") and as an attraction (he did a live burial stunt.) He'd carnival films before, but it was his 1932 film Freaks that got him into hot water.
The problem was the cast. He used sideshow performers: People without arms or legs (or both). Conjoined twins, a half-man-half-woman, pinheads and more..  Critics and viewers hated it.   The movie bombed, and was was widely banned..   Browning's career hit the wall.
Freaks follows a traveling circus. Cleopatra, a glamorous trapeze star, is engaged to Hans, a dwarf. Her secret plan is to murder him so she (and her thug boyfriend) can get his pending inheritance. Things get ugly at the wedding party. She gets drunk, insults her groom, and cackles. The freaks (who throughout the film have been portrayed as kind and friendly), offer to "accept her" as "one of us" and perform a chanting ceremony. Offended, Cleo has a meltdown, screams "Freaks!  Dirty, slimy freaks!" at them, and kicks them out.
The seal trainer overhears the murderous plans. Hans and his pals are warned. He plays dumb, secretly spitting out the "medicine" his wife gives him. Other freaks are always nearby, watching...
A storm hits. The freaks confront Cleo. With knives. (Thug Boyfriend is busy trying to assault the seal trainer.) Soon the villains flee in terror into the woods, with the freaks in persuit.
Our villains, we learn, get mutilated.
It's a weird movie. Part freak show, part "Why, they aren't that freakish at all" show, part "evil people get punished" fable. I suspect this and the fact that it was banned helped make it a cult hit.
Also, I think everyone fells out of place or powerless sometimes. Seeing the underdog (in this case, the freaks) outwit  jerks assures the audience that they, too, might be able to defeat their tormentors (hopefully not by carving them up, but you get the idea). It assures us, "Underdogs are people too. And we can kick some serious %&!! if provoked."

That's Offensive!

I remember the teaching instructions from the mid 1990s.  It was some sort of lesson or activity based on this  nursery rhyme:

Peter Peter pumpkin eater
Had a wife and couldn't keeper.
He put her in a pumpkin shell
And there he kept her very well.

Except the lesson had swapped out wife for mouse.  Why?   There was some nonsense about how Peter's wife in the pumpkin shell was a bad example.  I couldn't believe they found it offensive.  Never mind that putting anybody in a pumpkin shell was implausible and silly.    Did they really think the original version would corrupt kids?   The whole thing struck me as "look how enlightened we are!" posturing.

I think nearly anything can be interpreted as offensive.
Take Jack and Jill:

Jack and Jill went up the hill
To fetch a pail of water.
Jack fell down and broke his crown.
And Jill came tumbling after.

Let's squeeze some bogus outrage  out of it...

...Why, it's insensitive to people with head injuries.  It trivializes brain trauma!   It's sexist.   Why Jack and Jill and not Jill and Jack?  Why is Jill a secondary character?  They both fell down the same hill, yet we don't hear about Jill's injuries.  It implies that girls are less important.  It's racist by omission.   It's sexist against men because it implies the male character is incompetent.  It makes fun of the working class.   It mocks those who  rely on wells. It trivializes child labor.  It makes fun of thirsty people.   It makes fun of people named Jack or Jill.  Jack is a variation of John, which in turn is a from the name Yochanan which means "God is Great."  And you want to send someone named "God is Great" on a bungling adventure?  I guess you hate religion too....

Back to the people who replaced "had a wife" with "had a mouse," I wonder what they'd think of these early varients of the rhyme:

Eeper Weeper, chimbly sweeper,*

Had a wife but couldn't keep her.

Had another, didn't love her,

Up the chimbly he did shove her.

Peter, my neeper,

Had a wife,

And he coud[n't]  keep her,

He [put]  her [in the wall]

And [let all] the mice eat her.

 *This later was incorporated into a song that began:

Did you ever hear the story of Willie the Weeper? 

He had a job as a chimney sweeper,

Which in turn inspired Cab Calloway's "Minnie the Moocher."   Who knew Peter and Minnie were relatives?

Flash Carnival

Part of the Flash cartoon I'm working on takes place at a carnival.  I'll need some carousels and twirling rides in the establishing shots- not the easiest thing to animmate in 2d.
Above are "test rides" created with the help of a Flash plugin called swif.t3D Xpress.   I added a cartoony bounce to the second ride using regular motion tweens.
These examples are a bit too mechanical and complex for the final cartoon, but I had fun making them!

"You're Doing it Wrong!"

If a snotty critic or know-it-all snob says or implies that you're "doing it wrong!" because s/he finds it weird, ugly, offensive, obnoxious, sloppy, crazy etc...  ...it's often a sign that you're on the right track.

The Pie Show

I learned how to bake over the last several months:  Cookies, cakes, bread, even rugelach.
Now it was time for me to master a big Kahuna of baking:  A boysenberry pie.
No pre-made crusts or fillings.   A real, home made pie..
Could I do it?
I got the crust recipe off the internet.  It suggested using liquor  to help keep the dough soft.
I followed the rules.  Cold, cubed butter, cut in the dough, not overworked, add enough liquid so it's not crumbly but not so much that it's sticky... ...geez, it smells like a martini.   Maybe I should have checked this on Snopes....
On to the filling.  I drained the  boysenberries (carefully saving the liquid from one can).  I poured the latter in a saucepan, along with my pre measured portions of sugar and cornstarch.  I stirred.   A great blob of lavender foam rose. It looked like  a freaky science experiment.   Huh?  Why was it doing this?
Here's why.  When you store the baking powder next to the cornstarch in similar containers, things can go very wrong....
I dumped the foam to start over.  But whoops, I'd already poured the syrup from the other can down the drain.    In its place I cooked up some sugar, water, lemon juice, and mashed up berries.
Now, for the top crust.
I'd planned a smooth, ornate one, with petite scalloped  cookie cutter holes and maybe an egg wash.  The dough  ripped open when I put it in place.  I could have balled and re-rolled it, but I was afraid it would toughen the dough..  It was getting late too.  Well, the gash will work as a vent, right?
I baked it and set it down to cool.  It smelled great.  It looked like it was dropped off a  building.
The next morning I tasted it.  The top crust  was tasty.  The filling was fruity.  The bottom crust was... ...doughy.
Ah well, I thought, they'll still enjoy it.  Then I remembered the secret ingredient.  Wait!  If the bottom  crust isn't fully cooked, it might still have alcohol... ...don't be silly, there's not enough to get someone intoxicated... ...but what if someone happens to be highly sensitive or allergic...?
 I added a note warning about the bottom crust.   It never hurts to be safe.  Then again, it looks astoundingly weird when you serve your pie with a note warning not to eat the bottom crust and drive.

Treehouse

This ramshackle tree house was somewhere on my street, 95 years ago.
I love old photos, especially from areas I'm familiar with.
The only problem is the unanswered questions.  In this case- who built it?   What became of them?  What became of the tree house?   What became of the tree?

Was it 400 Degrees Yet?

I'm to be struggling with the hot objects are, in fact hot concept.
Last week I was baking bread. Before slipping the pan of dough in, I wanted to make sure the oven was hot enough. Was it 400 degrees yet? I opened the oven to check the thermometer- but the dial was at an angle. So I reached to turn it towards me and-

Yowch!

You idiot! I thought, running the kitchen tap over my fingers. What were you thinking!?
What was I thinking? I used the stove and oven all the time, handling hot cookie sheets, pans, cast iron skillets etc.. with an oven mitt and common sense. How did I slip up here?
  My theory is people do a lot of routine cooking on autopilot, unconsciously following basic rules. For example Use oven mits when taking stuff out of the oven as opposed to thinking Gosh, I bet that thing in the oven is hot, thus I'll use oven mitts to insulate my hand.
When I couldn't read the dial, it probably activated the same part of my brain that habitually turns the alarm clock for a better look.   Whoops.
I mentioned my blunder on a message board and people responded with similar stories.
Everyone remembered to use oven mitts when removing hot pans.  The problems started when the still-hot item was out of the oven.   People would grab handles and lids and get a surprise.  Autopilot.
One person caught themselves using a oven mitt to take a pan out of a cold oven.
That autopilot!

Happy Birthday, Crack Monster!

According to my sources, Sesame Street's elusive "Crack Monster*" cartoon debuted thirty four years ago today, freaking out the few Generation X kids who saw him.  Then we grew up and wanted to see him again.
As I've written elsewhere, I got a chance to see it again this year, though I still know nothing about its history- who wrote/directed/animated it.  I'd sure like to know!
About once a month I'll get an email  like this:

"I remember that cartoon!  It freaked me out when I was a kid but now I'd like to see it again.  Except nobody seems to remember it and I couldn't find much about it but then I saw your blog..."

Yesterday I posted about Quasi at the Quackadero, another 1975 cartoon.  It was added to the National Film Registry  by the  Library of Congress  recently (to qualify, the film needs to be  "culturally, historically, or aesthetically significant".)  
I imagine the Crack Monster character is crumbling with envy, possibly thinking Why couldn't it have been "Crack Monster at the Crackadero?"  I coulda been a star!  An icon!  Grrrr....!

*The character, though described as "the monster," refers to himself as "Crack Master"  For continuity I've been calling him "Crack Monster".  Neither is the real name of the clip.

 

Quasi at the Quackadero & Little Nemo: National Film Registry 2009

Sally Cruikshank's "Quasi at the Quackadero" and  Winsor McCay's "Little Nemo"   have both been included in the 2009 National Film Registry.  This is great news.  My only quibble is that they weren't inducted years ago.
As I've posted before, I  love with "Quasi at the Quackadero"- it's one of my favorite cartoons.  It's cute (without being cloying), bizarre (without being pretentious or annoying), inventive, colorful, funny and very original.  This isn't a cartoon where you can guess what happens next.
As for Nemo, I've been familiar with the old comic strips since I was a kid, but saw the animated version a few years ago.  Amazing stuff.
While very different, these cartoons have some things in common:
Each was largely the creation of a single artist, who thought up the plot, created the characters, and did most (if not all) of the animation.  Also, note how both take advantage of the medium (a fancy way to say the creators realized  Hey, this is animation, so I can make  the characters do whatever I want!)  There's morphing, surreal craziness, fantastic creatures and unique details.
And both are fun to watch.

Secret of the Kraggler!

A goose kid tells us about a monster...

Since these are the Magic Geese, I originally was going to have the show they were watching presented in a magical context- appearing in a fireplace or a crystal ball. But it looked distracting and wasn't necessary for the story, so I dropped it.

Medea the Mean*

(*Apologies to my late cockatiel, Quasi, who had a broken beak but was a peach)

Katella, (a gosling sorceress ) has trouble at wizard school.  Click each frame for larger image.

Magic Wandees

Here Ganderdalf's wizard nephew tells about a cool party favor.

Click images to make them larger.

 

 

It's a Bundyful Life

This here's the climatic scene from one of my holiday favorites:
The "Married with Children" episode that spoofs "It's a Wonderful Life."
It debuted 20 years ago this week.
In the episode, Al's plans to get presents for his family have been thwarted. He comes home empty handed and gets grief from his wife and kids. Alone and depressed, he wonders if he should have been born. Sam Kinison appears as his lunatic guardian angel. He offers to show Al what the world would be like if he'd never been born (video above starts here).
In this alternate universe, his family is obnoxiously content and loving. His wife happily prepares a big meal, his kids are well groomed and considerate. Alternate Dad appears, announcing they're to move to a much nicer house than this "hovel" they live in. The children assure him his love is more important than presents.
"Well this had been fun!" Al says, oozing sarcasm. (Who hasn't spent a holiday season or two feeling like someone watching everyone else have a great time?).
The Angel admits he can't find one reason why Al should have been born, griping that now he won't get his wings. Al interrupts that he wants his old family back:
"Look at them. They're happy. Not a care in the world. You think I'm gonna let that happen after all that grief they put me through!? I want to live!"

Slow Parking Lot Walkers

Maybe you're swinging by the store to pick up some bread. Or picking up dry cleaning. Or meeting a friend for lunch. There's plenty of parking, yet your path is blocked by Slow Parking Lot Walkers.
I'm not talking about someone who's slow because he has a bad knee.  I mean the average parking lot walker who strolls (or waddles) in front of your car, without looking.
C'mon, I think, Let's go! 
I have two conflicting theories about them:

1. They are evil, selfish boors who think they're more important than anyone else.
2. Since they're approaching the store, they're preoccupied with what they need there (Okay, I need a can of coffee, burger buns, Sloppy Joe Mix...) and  what's going to happen when they get home (...when the food's simmering I can pay the bills and go over the checkbook etc...).  They don't notice there's a problem.

My second theory is the most likely. My evidence?
Once I park my car (after wishing childishly hateful things on the Slow Parking Lot Walkers,) I think things like Did I forget anything on the shopping list? Should I get fresh butter? Do I have enough soda? Do I want to cook dinner or just pop something in the microwave- shoot- gotta check my online statement to make sure... as I stroll to the store, slowly, not watching where I'm going.


 

Ganderdalf the Grey Tries out His New Wand

I had fun drawing this.
Then, before posting, I thought Aw come on. I bet both the name and the gag have been used a zillion times. You've committed cryptomnesia!
Then I ran both through Google.
One match for "Ganderdalf" as a throwaway joke on some message board. No matches for "wand kicks like a mule". In the Googleverse, wands seem to "kick ass," often near other things that "kick like a mule."
I think I'm safe.
Wait- have I seen those trees before??

Tiny Tim's Tongue

I can't act, but that didn't keep me out of a community theater adaptation of A Christmas Carol once. I'd volunteered to be an extra, but got a small speaking part when someone else backed out at the last minute.
The kid who played Tiny Tim could act, and was cute. He was also a brat. The best part of rehearsal was his death scene. If you remember the story, the Ghost of Christmas Yet to Come shows Scrooge a bleak future, where innocent little Tiny Tim has died. The family gathers around his body. His father sobs "My poor little, little Tiny Tim!"
And poor, little , little Tiny Tim would stick his tongue out. Everyone cracked up laughing. His mom shouted for him to knock it off. Yet each time they practiced the scene, out came the tongue.
I'm not sure how they got him to play the scene straight in front of the audience. Maybe they chloroformed him.

Geek Hair

Work has kept me remarkably busy. Late nights, weekends, and every meal at my desk.
When this happens, I get Geek Hair. I don't have time to style it properly and end up looking like a wacked out mad scientist. It's all over the place. No clip, bobby pin or scrunchy will tame it.
Do you ever suffer from Geek Hair?

Mr. Chicken

I created Mister Chicken as a joke.
It was 2001 and I shared an apartment with a vegetarian friend. He took it seriously, shunned leather, and even disliked Tofurkey (a turkey substitute made from tofu) because it "Tasted too much like flesh."
He surprised me one day by saying he'd gone out last night and eaten Hot Wings. Hot Wings! It was so out of character that I drew a chicken with hooks where his feet and wings should be. He glared out accusingly and said "I know what YOU did!"

The Face in the Corner

I quit ballet as a kindergartner. I told my folks I didn't like it. I lied.
I liked ballet lessons- the tights, the tutu, the little shoes. I could pretend I was pretty and graceful. I remember doing toe exercises at the bar as music played from an old record player with wooden parts. Each class ended with a mini hula lesson, complete with crunched plastic leis in crayon colors. Best of all, after each class you got a jelly bean! I loved it.
Then I saw The Face.
It was a quarter-sized flaw in a ceiling corner. A mix of peeled, paint, cracks, and water damage. It was puckered and scary looking. Each time we danced around the room, there it was! I was old enough to know it was harmless, that it was "only" plaster. Yet there it was, looking at me each time I passed it.

Soon, the Face in the Corner overshadowed the whole class. Who cared about fancy outfits, music, hula or jelly beans when there was that awful face waiting for me! I knew sharing this fear with adults would get me nowhere. Just a It's your imagination and it can't hurt you lecture. Instead I said I didn't want to be a ballerina anymore.
No more music, no more tutu, no more scary face in the corner.

The Exception

There's an old notion that it's dangerous to stand near a speeding train because you'll get "sucked under the wheels." Not so, say the experts. I think they even did a Mythbusters episode where they parked a manikin near the tracks and let the trains roll. It survived.
Leave it to me to be the exception.
As a teen, my family sometimes took the train down to a day at the beach. I spent the day coasting the waves on a orange foam Boogie Board. It was almost as big as I was. A rubber and Velcro tether kept it leashed to my wrist. This came in handy: if a monster wave came I could duck under it without losing the board.
It was on dry land when things went wrong. We stood on the grass, waiting for the train home. One stopped, but when I got close I could see it wasn't the right one, and stepped back.
I didn't step back far enough. The train pulled away, creating a breeze that lifted my board like a kite. This was funny until I realized it was pulling me forward too. The train sped faster, and I found myself being tugged harder, hopping forward so as not to fall over.
I yelled and my dad pulled me away. I can't say for sure if I'd have been sucked under the train, but my board certainly would have. At the very least I'd have gone for a ride.

Don't Let the Train Hit You

"Be safe near the rails!" the public service message babbled over railroad sound effects.
Thanks for the warning, I thought. Who'd have guessed that crossing in front of a speeding freight train was, in fact, bad?
"Every two hours someone in the United States is struck by a train..." the add continued.
Every two hours? That's nuts!
A train isn't something that sneaks up on you. They're big and loud. They shake the ground. Their horn is an ear splitting bleat. Trains trigger bells and lights when they approach roads. If you still can't figure out a train is on the way, bowing crossbars are often proved.
Train don't go on chaotic rampages, like rogue elephants. Their path is predictable. They stay on the rails.
Why were people getting creamed by something so obvious? Every two hours?
I Googled some safety sites to find out.
Here's the scoop:

• Humans are terrible at judging the speed of approaching objects. It's a dangerous illusion. One second the choo choo seems to be gliding along in the distance, a second later, Wham!
  A a camera's eye view of a approaching train demonstrates this:

• Trains are not always noisy. Newer tracks lack the clickity clikity sound effect. Stealth trains.
• They're much wider than the tracks. My source says they can stick out as much as three feet beyond the rails.
  
• People aren't paying attention. I can see this. I'm walking (or driving) with my brain moored in the future*- what needs to be done, the lunch I'm looking forward to, should swing by the store to pick up a loaf of [insert sound of me being smacked by a train].
• More than one set of tracks. People focus on getting around train A and get blindsided by train B.
• People forget that something that weighs 5000+ tons and going 60 miles per hour can't stop the way a car does.
  

And, of course:

• People can be reckless. This includes anyone who:
• Tries to race the train.
• Crosses or fishes from(!) railroad bridges.
  
• Walks on the tracks (At one crossing I saw a guy wearing Walkman headphones as he strolled down the tracks. The lights were blinking, the bells were dinging, and the horn was blasting and he was oblivious! He noticed and got out of the way seconds before it roared by. )
• People who drive around lowered gates. What are they thinking? I can't wait for a train now! If I'm late they'll kill me!

*"My brain is moored in the future"- hmmm... that line came to easy. I hope I didn't lift it with via cryptomnesia.

It's Tough to be a Snake.

I was born without the "snakes are creepy" gene.
Silverfish are creepy. Centipedes are creepy. Worms are creepy.
Not snakes. Since I was little, they were colorful ribbons of wonder. As a kid, I didn't get why people disliked them.
I knew some snakes were trouble. Rattlesnakes, for example. They sometimes wandered into our quasi-rural yard and promptly got whacked by my dad's shovel. I felt a little bad for them, but their fang baring, tail buzzing shtick (and the fact that they could hurt you) didn't make them sympathetic.
What shocked me was that some neighbors gave any snake the shovel. I couldn't believe it. They know those aren't rattlesnakes. I thought. Why are they killing them? That's mean!
I checked out some snake books at the library. I discovered the truth.
Most of the world hated snakes.
The books pointed out that most were harmless, and in fact, beneficial. People either didn't understand this, or didn't care. One book had a realistic drawing of a man attacking a harmless one with a shovel. This upset me. That's not fair, I thought, fighting tears. The snake didn't do anything wrong!

Wiggle-Grams

A Wiggle-Gram is an animated gif of two alternating stereo images. The result enhances depth.
Here's some I made from old images I found on the web:

The first two are from autochromes (very early color pics) I found here:




Here's another autochrome from 1915


I like the last one the best. Part of my mind classifies 1915 as black and white fossilized age, of sorts, very different from the "real" world I live in. But Miss Autochrome in the chair looks as real as any of my neighbors and could have been photographed yesterday.

Like wigglegrams? Check out these ones someone put together from old stereo photos from Japan.