Kids these days, amirite? The cartoons they're watching just have no understanding of the OVERWHELMING COMPLEXITY OF LOVE AND HAPPINESS AND LONELINESS AND TERROR.
Not back in the dzay. Back then, they understood that kids need to just MAN UP, and face what life is throwing at them.
Check out this super old Felix the Housecat from 1919. It's so cute! You love it so much! And then, SPOILER ALERT: it ends in tragic suicide over unwanted bastard children. No joke. Check it out:
Aside from being the bee's knees, this 1932 Betty Boop cartoon is also completely terrifying. Just wait for the ending: You're all "holy hell, what's happening with that baby?!" Kids, don't do drugs.
Jump forward a few years again to 1942, and the cartoons were all about the war. Could you imagine if there were cartoons about Iraq or Afghanistan like this now? That would be wild. This cartoon has obviously been banned, along with other wild examples like the totally not offensive or propagandizing at all PopEye episode "You're a Sap Mister Jap." (But now with NDAA 13 who knows...)
Um, ok actually maybe I take all this "different eras of cartoon creepiness" stuff back because dear lord almighty this next cartoon just ruined my day, and it's from 1986. I'm a little confused about how it can even BE, and what happened to all the kids who actually saw this on TV? Probably eating people's faces in Florida or something. Also probably Janeane Garofalo.
Wait... WHAAAAT?! I am sinking into existential hell now:
Alright, so I take it all back. Cartoons these days aren't any less scary. Shit. They're just scary in technicolor preposterousness. I need to get out of here. Moral of the story: all of our innocent child minds are doomed.
Showing posts with label old things. Show all posts
Showing posts with label old things. Show all posts
Saturday, June 2, 2012
Thursday, April 14, 2011
The Newest Member of Our Family
Remember SPUD balls? Those noisily bouncy, perfectly textured rubbery, made for elementary school recess-y balls that also popped up in every dodge ball and kick ball game you've ever played? Yeah, they were good. And they still are. I just found this beast in Duane Reade, and I am pumped beyond belief:
Not only is it a classic street game ball, bound for the blocks of New York, but it is also covered in a checkered DINOSAUR pattern. It's also Gary's new best wrestling friend.
So, yeah. SPUD league over the summer anyone? This is a serious proposition. If anyone would like to bring sweatbands, spandex biking shorts, and a long roster of potential team names, let me know. I'm down.
Not only is it a classic street game ball, bound for the blocks of New York, but it is also covered in a checkered DINOSAUR pattern. It's also Gary's new best wrestling friend.
So, yeah. SPUD league over the summer anyone? This is a serious proposition. If anyone would like to bring sweatbands, spandex biking shorts, and a long roster of potential team names, let me know. I'm down.
Thursday, February 17, 2011
Alice + Olivia + Digression
So... blah blah blah, it's fashion week. This time of year does nothing but make me feel short, poor, and covetous. Well, pass me the Ben & Jerry's and a gift card to Forever21, because I'm diving in head first.
Alice + Olivia are kind of the coolest, right? And they're, like, almost in my price range. There's this glimmer of hope that some day within the next decade, I can walk into an Alice + Olivia boutique and be like, "BAM - Grab me that dress in a 4, woman. Mama's taking it home with her tonight." And then I spill like a milkshake or something on it and my cat cuts a hole in the sleeve that night, but WHATEVER! It's still mine.
So um, the 20s? Yeah they're kicking it. It's good because in nine years it'll be the 20s again and then, shit, we'll all be ready to shimmy and party and just roar it the fuck up in golden age part two. It's gonna be the bees knees.
Also maybe this is the sign of the end of the prohibition coming? Eh? Eh? Wink wink?
Whatever.
Look at this couch that's almost ten times better than those clothes, but also very reminescent!
This photo was taken in the dressing room of what is clearly the coolest place to buy clothes on the planet: Post Script. It's all vintage shi shi run by ex-model Julie Skinner, whose life basically makes my existence look like a modern tragedy. Check it out.
This is some sort of *totally amazing* item you can apparently buy at her store, *if your life is made of silk and diamonds and unicorn tears that you sprinkle in your champagne to make all your dreams come true that day.* I would sell a sizable portion of my soul to wear this out to a disco dance party.
Speaking of... whatever it is I'm saying, Swirl by Daily Candy is now selling vintage bags from Balenciaga, Dior, Chloe, Gucci, Valentino -- you know, all the kids at the popular table. Really, "vintage" here means "totally outdated-looking a la 1998-2003." This was not a good time for bags, folks. Remember the tiny little u-shaped slouchy ones? And the saddle bags? Say what you will, I was not a fan. I am even less of a fan now. These things do not translate well over time. That said, this little number is pretty tight (and kinda goes with my theme here):
Skunk. Who'da thunk it. I could add this to my odd varieties of fur collection... or my curio collection. Whichever. I want to wear this in the rockiest of ways, even though that's about the lamest thing that's come out of my mouth in days. What I'm trying to say is that this bag would look best with some skin tight leather pants and a BMI of about 2.5. You should definitely only hold it if you also have a cigarette in your hand. I mean, your mouth.
It's like if Kate Moss and Nancy both had time machines, and they collided mid-trip and smashed down in 1924, you know? It's not hard, people.
By the way, 1920s chicks were totally badass. Look at these broads, just out on the town, broadin' it up. They're probably about to go flap. And drink moonshine.
On a final note (finally) this is my favorite one. Give me that head, right now.
Alice + Olivia are kind of the coolest, right? And they're, like, almost in my price range. There's this glimmer of hope that some day within the next decade, I can walk into an Alice + Olivia boutique and be like, "BAM - Grab me that dress in a 4, woman. Mama's taking it home with her tonight." And then I spill like a milkshake or something on it and my cat cuts a hole in the sleeve that night, but WHATEVER! It's still mine.
So um, the 20s? Yeah they're kicking it. It's good because in nine years it'll be the 20s again and then, shit, we'll all be ready to shimmy and party and just roar it the fuck up in golden age part two. It's gonna be the bees knees.
Also maybe this is the sign of the end of the prohibition coming? Eh? Eh? Wink wink?
Whatever.
Look at this couch that's almost ten times better than those clothes, but also very reminescent!
This photo was taken in the dressing room of what is clearly the coolest place to buy clothes on the planet: Post Script. It's all vintage shi shi run by ex-model Julie Skinner, whose life basically makes my existence look like a modern tragedy. Check it out.
This is some sort of *totally amazing* item you can apparently buy at her store, *if your life is made of silk and diamonds and unicorn tears that you sprinkle in your champagne to make all your dreams come true that day.* I would sell a sizable portion of my soul to wear this out to a disco dance party.
Speaking of... whatever it is I'm saying, Swirl by Daily Candy is now selling vintage bags from Balenciaga, Dior, Chloe, Gucci, Valentino -- you know, all the kids at the popular table. Really, "vintage" here means "totally outdated-looking a la 1998-2003." This was not a good time for bags, folks. Remember the tiny little u-shaped slouchy ones? And the saddle bags? Say what you will, I was not a fan. I am even less of a fan now. These things do not translate well over time. That said, this little number is pretty tight (and kinda goes with my theme here):
Skunk. Who'da thunk it. I could add this to my odd varieties of fur collection... or my curio collection. Whichever. I want to wear this in the rockiest of ways, even though that's about the lamest thing that's come out of my mouth in days. What I'm trying to say is that this bag would look best with some skin tight leather pants and a BMI of about 2.5. You should definitely only hold it if you also have a cigarette in your hand. I mean, your mouth.
It's like if Kate Moss and Nancy both had time machines, and they collided mid-trip and smashed down in 1924, you know? It's not hard, people.
By the way, 1920s chicks were totally badass. Look at these broads, just out on the town, broadin' it up. They're probably about to go flap. And drink moonshine.
On a final note (finally) this is my favorite one. Give me that head, right now.
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