When Bob Clampett went to Mars

Footage from a Bob Clampett presentation, featuring a project he worked on in 1936, "John Carter of Mars." It was never completed.
I find it interesting for three reasons:

1.  Effective use of a limited color palate (reds and blues).
2.  Remarkably good animation for the mid 1930s.
3. Clampett is best remembered for his insanely brilliant Loony Tunes cartoons: Porky in Wackyland, The Great Piggy Bank Robbery, Big Snooze ,  Russian Rhapsody etc..   Yet this master of goofy characters could draw, animate and direct realistic characters too.  Did his skill at the latter help with the former?  Did the skill, planning and thinking required for projects like "Mars" help prime his brain for becoming a Warner Brothers legend?

I wouldn't surprise me.

Pose Woes

When posing for a picture, I think I'm standing like this:

The problem is, I'm really standing more like this:

There's a gap between what I'm doing and what I think I'm doing.
So while I think I'm standing up straight  I'm actually posed like a pile of old tires.  Or I think I'm leaning in towards the next person when, in fact, I'm bent sideways like a broken pencil.   It drives me crazy.
 

Dingbats! Dingbats! Dingbats!

If you've lived in in Los Angeles, you've seen dingbats.  They're those boxy apartments that sprang up the 1950s and 1960s.   You know the ones:  Stucco blocks held up on poles (or walls) so you can park under them.   Some are plain, but many are adorned with garish details- glittery tile, funky sconces, and often a name splashed across the front.
These names always suggested something far different than "Standard Issue Boxy Dwelling:"

The Capri!
The Monte Carlo!
Camelot!
Kona Kai!
The Argyle!
The Stardust!

Some great (and ugly, and so-tacky-they're-wonderful) examples can be seen here, here and here.
And to think when  I was a kid I thought all apartments looked like this. 

Circus Peanuts: Something's Rotten in Candyland.

Guest Blogger: Fred, Maple-Nut Truffle

What is it with Circus Peanuts?
Nobody likes them.  Yet they're on display at every store. Meanwhile class act candy like Swedish Fish, Spice Drops, Dumdum Pops, and Wax Lips get second-class status.
Why do Circus Peanuts get all that shelf space?  They're gross:  Band Aid colored.  Rubbery.  Ugly.  They look like something  that should be floating in a lab jar.  And why are they called "Circus Peanuts?"  Did they get their start as a sideshow exhibit?  Maybe you'll find them, if you're lucky.
Let's compare myself, a Maple-Nut Truffle, with a  Circus Peanut.

Properties:	Maple-Nut Truffle	Circus Peanut
Decadent cocoa butter coating
Rich Buttercream center
Made with 100% pure Vermont maple syrup, farm fresh dairy, and spring harvested Hawaiian cane sugar
Looks like a pupae
Erases pencil marks
Probably emits toxic vapors when heated

So clearly I'm the superior candy.  Yet can you find me at most supermarkets and drugstores?  No!  But you'll find plenty of Circus Peanuts What's going on?
The Dumdum Pops and I have a theory.  The Circus Peanuts are blackmailing their way onto the nations shelves.   I suspect organized crime is involved.   It's the only explanation, I tell ya.

Illustration Friday: "Lesson"

This week's Illustration Friday prompt is "lesson."

"And So Will All the Human Race..."

I was listening to an English version of the Threepenny Opera when I drew this.  The music's catchy, and the lyrics  (originally written by Bertolt  Brecht and translated by  R. Mannheim and J. Willett*) are biting.
Take these samples from the end of the first act:

But say your son is close to you
And finds your pension’s not come through
He’ll kick you smartly in the face.
And so will all the human race.

and

Of course that’s all there is to it

The world is poor, and man’s a $#!+

We should aim high instead of low

But our condition’s such this can’t be so.

Oh snap!

*bad word bleeped out by me, but I'm sure you can figure out what it is.

Journey

The latest Illustration Friday topic is "Journey".
Ever been on ones like this?

"What's with this Anti-Bullying Nonsense?"

Guest Blogger:   Harman Throttlefolk

It happened last Friday.   At the George Washington Middle School cafetorium.  As I plunged my fork into my chili cheese fries,  I saw him.   Ned Smith, dorktard extraordinaire.  There he was, with his thick glasses, pimply skin, skinny neck,  carrying his stupid cafeteria tray and looking all stupid.  Something about him screamed   Beat me!  Beat the crap out of me!
Some instincts you don't ignore.
So I swagger up to him, call him a #@Iing @&$!! and knock the tray out of his hands.  Chili, green beans jello and plastic hit the floor.  Then I shove Ned down into it and pour my Pepsi on his head.  Everyone's watching now.  Some cheer!  It's like the gladiator games and I'm victorious.  Ned hobbles to his feet as soda drips from him. He won't even look me in the eye, and he's scraping the food off his shirt and I go "Next time watch where you're going, you !@#(!"  Everyone laughs.
Then Fat-Ass Monitor Lady sends me to the principals office.  Now I have to have lunch in the stupid office for the next too weeks because "bullying will not be tolerated.*"
What's with all this anti-bullying nonsense?  Why should I accept some runtiod geek as my peer?  How come he's tolerated and I'm not?  I don't get why we're supposed to embrace the dorktard lifestyle.   It's well known that wimpy, nerdy kids are more lonely and prone to depression.  I'm doing the him a favor by encouraging him to lose his wussyness.     And my reward?  I get into trouble!  It's hypocrisy I tell you.   If this keeps up, America will be crawling with weirdos.  And people like me, who stand up for what's right, will be locked up. 
Chilling.

*Well, there is a threshold of bullying that they tolerate just fine.  I was singled out because my victory left too much evidence.  Some bullies work around the system by being more subtle, or doing $#!+ like wedgies and swirlies that the geekbastard won't report because he's too ashamed that his dorkatude lead him to that fate.  But if us bullies compromise, what next?  Will we then lose our rights to more subtle putdownmanship?  Will we be prohibited from whispering "#@&&*+!" and "#^(&head" when a spazoid walks by?  Will the proud tradition of  "After school I'm gonna pound you!" fade into history?

Bottled

I found a cool website called Illustration Friday.
Each week it introduces a new theme and invites artists to submit their interpretations.
The theme for this week is "Bottled."

"Road Rage is Righeous"

Guest blogger: Rex Honkscreech
Everyone gives me crap about my driving.  Like if some jerk cuts me off, they think I'm not supposed to cut him off.  Are you freaking kidding me!?  What kind of message am I sending if I don't cut the bastard off?.  It's like saying "That's okay, go ahead cut me off.  I won't retaliate.  Why don't you cut me off again?"  I tell ya, it's like they want me to go all World War II French or something. Sorry.  This one man army rolls over for nobody.  Cut me off, and it's for damn sure I'll cut you off!
People say I'm nuts when I drive off course to follow some jerk and give him the finger.  They're all "What's wrong with you?  Why are you so childish?"
Well, let me introduce you to something called "principles."    You can't let people get away with stuff.  You got stand up for yourself.  When someone makes me mad on the road, he's earned my angry glare and special bird flip.
 Then my wuss friends give me the "but that's dangerous!" speech.  It's a shame how people let fear push them into Wimpyland.  Thank goodness our founding fathers weren't afraid of a little danger.  George Washington and all the other guys didn't go "Oh, we can't get England mad at us!  We might hurt their feelings!  There might be shots fired"
Too bad they didn't live long enough to enjoy driving.  Can't you just see Thomas Jefferson side swiping some idiot who didn't get out of his way?  Or John Adams running some dope off the road?   I bet Benjamin Franklin himself  would invent a special horn that went "F@$% you!".  And he wouldn't be afraid to use it!

Why Meeting a Historical Person You Admire Might Be Horrifying

What DID You Just Bite?

There's nothing like eating food you really like.     

 There's also nothing  like chomping down on something that  doesn't belong in food you really like.  The spell is broken!

  What did you just bite?

And what else might your meal be mined with?    So many possibilities:

 

Nightmare at 45 R.P.M.

I dreamed of 45 records on needle-like stems.

Each one, when stepped upon, played.

Musical horror commenced:

Then came writhing tape to drag me away
To Cassette and 8-track Hell:

Where played the worst song of them all.

Mucha-thulu

I couldn't sleep last night, so I got up and drew this tribute to Alphonse Mucha (the artist) and Cthathulu (the octopus-headed monster H.P. Lovecraft invented).

Grandfather Clocks: The Temperamental Timepiece.

Grandfather clocks puzzle me. The little "it's another quarter hour!" chimes are cute and perky. Yet the hour gong is spooky, angry, and morbid.

This video* is a good example:

If chimes could be transcribed into English, they'd go something like this:

"Tra la la la, tra la la la...."

"Dah de dum da, tra la la la...."

then comes the hour count....

"Die!

  Die!

  Die!

   Die! 

  Die!

  Die!

  Die!

  Die!

  Die!

Why is this?  What's with the personality change?
 
*Okay, this clock is a beauty, and I'm glad it's being taken care of .  I picked this video because it was a good example of the "mood change"  between the chimes and hour striking.

Guest Blogger: "I Don't Care if You're White, Black, Green or Purple... ...But if You're Magenta, Get the Hell Away From Me"

by Jack Tupp, Guest Blogger

 I'm a fair guy.  I don't judge people by color.  My best friend is Phthalo Green.  I dated a Cerulean Blue chick once.  Heck, I'm part Vermilion on my grandfather's side and people always ask me if I'm part Mauve, so don't go calling me a bigot.
Magentas  don't know their place.  They're dumb as corks, but we're supposed to act like they're all smart.  They have no class.   And we're supposed to pretend like they're all the Queen of England!.    Ever been around a bunch of them? You can just tell they're up to no good.
People call me names like "paranoid" and "dumb," but the truth is, I tell it like it is.   I'm not gonna pretend they're normal..  I mean, look at them.  Listen to their stupid "music" or take a whiff of that crap they call food. 
Then people say stuff like "Well, the Brain Surgeon at Station Hospital is Magenta and he's world famous."
But I know better.  Everyone's all political correct so they'll pretend a Magenta Brain surgeon is okay .    So now we have a Magenta guy carving up brains!    Is that crazy or what?
Wha.. what's that?  You're part Magenta?   No you're not...  ...really,,,?   
...Heh, of course I  didn't mean all Magentas.  Just, you know, the annoying ones.  The loud ones.  The ones with bad attitudes,
Hey!  Don't up and leave.  Geez.  That's the problem with you Magentas.  You're too sensitive!

Marketing Gimmicks that Bug Me

Some marketing  gimmicks annoy me. 
For example...

"Chocolaty"

What it implies: lots of chocolate here!
What  it probably really means: there's no chocolate in this, but it sorta tastes chocolaty.  Or maybe it just looks chocolaty.
Same deal with "fruity," "buttery" "cheesy" etc...


"Made with 100%..."
What it implies:  "This stuff is 100% [ingredient X]
What it probably really means: We're confident you're too stupid to understand the difference between "this is 100% X" and "We took a (probably small) portion of 100% X and mixed it in with the other slop."

Thus this:

Can be marketed as this:

"Crème"
What it implies:  Made  with farm-fresh cream!  And it's a French word with the little doodad over the "e!"  That makes it sophisticated.
What it really means: There's no cream in here.  So we're calling it "crème. "

Maybe the crème is hydrogenated vegetable oil.  Maybe it's beef lard.  The latter is a compromise of sorts, as it least it has something to do with a cow.

I also see crème on expensive skin products*:

Other annoyances:
Surgery candy boasting that it's "naturally fat free"  Does anyone think that Twizzlers are a healthy snack because they're fat free?

"Ancient Wisdom"
News flash.  The ancients weren't that wise.   The ancients thought human sacrifice was a reasonable thing to do.   Then again, considering how many modern people are suckered by dopey marketing techniques, maybe I'm being too hard on the ancients.

Customized Internet Adds:
"[Insert your town here] person discovers miracle treatment for [what we think is probably wrong with you]."
I get stuff like "Los Angeles** Mom Discovers wrinkle cream (or weight loss cure)!"   Inverter Mom really gets around, as she's from El Segundo when I'm at work, and Redondo Beach when I visit my folks
In other words, advertisers are betting that I'm old enough to be fat and wrinkled.   Gee, thanks, guys.

*There is limited evidence that some vitamins (A, B3, C, and E in particular) may be of some use when topically applied, but  I think the vitamins in skin creams are there to sell the skin cream. 


** I don't get the local angle.  Am I supposed to trust the product because a neighbor made it?  Or think "Golly, that's where I live too.  What a coincidence!  I'd better look into this..."

Stay off the Grass, ya Black Dahlia Sillies!

"Please stay off the lawn," the tour guides said. "In fact, stay off the sidewalk. And please don't do what someone did, the first time we gave this tour, and lie on the grass.
We stood in a nice suburban neighborhood. You'd never guess anything ugly  had occurred 64 years earlier.
I was on Esotouric's  The Real Black Dahlia  tour, visiting  locations associated  with  one of the one of Los Angeles's most infamous unsolved murders. 
The guides tactfully steered us just south of the where the body (which was cut in two) was found in 1947.  I think they wanted to point out the location without having us stomp all over someone's property, as it lies on what is now someone's front lawn, right next to the sidewalk.
Later I did some Google searching and discovered some visitors (and there are plenty) aren't so thoughtful.  The case has a cult following and some people have spread out on the grass and posed for pictures.  What the hell!?

 

I wonder how often it happens?  What's it like to live there*?  Do the residents get mail addressed to the victim?  Do people leave flowers and plush toys?  Do crazy people knock on the door and ramble on about the case?
Does the scene below ever happen?:

If this were my lawn, it would happen.
Or maybe I'd just charge each weirdo five bucks per photo.

*The house was built about nine years after the body was found.   Rumor has it that the builder (or original owner) was obsessed with the case, if not personally involved, which I find hard to believe.  Looks like a regular tract house to me.