Finding Beetletrunk

I was at our local mall last weekend, and in the family bathroom area they always show cartoons from the "golden age" of animation, namely the 1940's. The cartoon that usually plays is an old Popeye, which I enjoy greatly due to how decidedly un-PC it is by today's standards. Popeye liberally made use of racial stereotypes, especially during the war time. Classic stuff. This weekend however we were treated to a cartoon I did not even know existed. Raggedy Ann.

Raggedy Ann is a timeless childhood icon. My daughter has a Raggedy Ann doll, which my son seems to like more than she does (hmmmph). I knew the toy was old, but I didn't know that there were even cartoons that accompanied the toy back then. Perhaps it's better that these cartoons are left forgotten, because even after moments of watching this one last weekend, I am left rattled and disturbed.

A fool's quest led me to find said cartoon on youtube. Unfortunately, youtube did not fail me. I quickly found out that it was way worse when watched all the way through. I will do my best to summarize the plotline, then let you subject yourself to a 9 minute trip through world of Raggedy.

The cartoon opens up with the title character being apprehended by the police whilst rummaging through the garbage. We don't know the back story to this, but we can only assume that she had been a fugitive for some time. The stereotypical irish cop then get's into an argument with a stereotypical italian hurdy-gurdy man. This scene does well to emphasize the racial tensions that existed between these early american immigrant groups.

After the mick cop escapes the close call with the dago musician, his interests turn lustful. He sees a young, presumably single mother harmlessly sweeping her stoop. Seeing vulnerability and a chance to flaunt his power, he shamelessly harrases her. This act is made even more disgusting when taken into account that he does this in front of the woman's blind daughter. Either out of guilt or an attempt to win points with the mother, the cop tosses filthy Raggedy Ann to the blind girl "Billie", who almost immediately drops the foul thing out of instinct. After an awkward and tense moment where she "blindly" feels around for the doll, she retrieves it. This signifies the formal kickoff to the "magical ride". (Jeez this is only 2 minutes in. There are still seven more minutes!!!)

I suppose what follows could be open to interpretation, but let me save you time and tell you what happened. The doll, from her time in the garbage has soaked up various toxic chemicals and most likely narcotic substances. When Billie stroked the doll's face, she unwittingly absorbed these chemicals triggering a hallucinogenic episode, at which reality became very subjective. These hallucinations convince the child that she has gained her sight and after little prompting from Ann, she begins to explore the "city" for the first time. The viewers are painfully aware that the child is in grave danger as she is led around the city by the unnatural warbling of a filthy rag doll. Her death is almost assured as she leans over the train tracks to get a better "look". Somehow she narrowly avoids danger after danger.

It just continues to get weirder as she dances, skips, and tumbles her way through the ghetto, while encountering various strange people. The final scene is especially heart-wrenching as she wants to see her mother's face. Perhaps this is the only mercy that Raggedy offers...as imagination is better than reality in this case. As her mother escorts her back to their slum, they encounter the irish cop again, who aggressively manages to relay the entire message of this depressing cartoon.

ugh...just watch it for your self



Mother: "How did you get over here?"

Billie: "Raggedy Ann brought me...."

As a musical act, I greatly enjoy Gnarls Barkley. However I LOVE their gimmicks. This is an especially nice performance from the '06 MTV somethingerother Awards.



The entire thing pretty much makes complete sense to me except Boba Fett on keys (about 1:12 in) ...not sure what he is doing...


but it appears that he is pointing that weapon AT the keyboards. Did he know he was on camera at that moment? Did he have it pointed at the keys the entire time? Was this a threat? To Who? Did he accept a contract by Jabba to kill this particular set of keyboards? Whatever the answer is, it's awkward, creepy, and i greatly appreciate it. Good thing one of the most dangerous bounty hunters in the galaxy can play one handed.

One thing I have not made clear here is my love for 80's action figures. So, let's clear the air. I love 80's action figures. If I had alot of money, maybe I would be one of those weird guys who collects them and leaves them in their bubble cases afraid that if exposed to 21st century air they would lose value instantly. Nah, I think that I would be no different than the 1983 version of myself. They would be immediately ripped open to begin their conquest of the other action figures (including the sexy Teela?).

I don't usually check and see what our spam filter catches, but I was beginning to wonder if I was missing something important. So, I checked and boy was I ever.

Our day to day lives get pretty busy. With work, family, and bills we tend to lose sight of those that mean the most to us. Rediscovering an old friend is really one of life's greatest joys. That moment when you realize how much you enjoyed their presence, how after mere minutes it's like they were never gone from your life. Of course after this you vow that you will never ever ever let the time get between you again. Well, last night I reconnected with a dear friend. I, of course am referring to cargo pants.


Think about it, who couldn't use two extra large storage areas near their knees? The utility and versatility, is really unparalleled in the pants world. Sure, you could argue that Carpenter pants have some utility as well, but do i really need a hammer loop? No. the only thing those side pockets could store are one of those weird flat pencils. No, I need the extra storage. For what, I'm not even sure.

But I do have some ideas:

• small bag of sunflower seeds

• a deck of cards

• juggling balls (yes I'm teaching myself how to juggle)

• Hand sanitizer (chicago is filthy)

• Water (bottled- small) - for obvious reasons

I do, however know what NOT to put in the knee pockets. :

• pencil/pens -this is a great way to compromise the integrity of the pockets with an inadvertent puncture. Ink is also an unwanted element in this storage area

• My wallet - I'm not so much worried about losing it as I am about looking like an ass every time i want to pay for something and i have to lean over and get into my side pocket.

• Perishables - These always belong in refrigerated spaces

• Sharps, hots, glass - Nothing that could hurt me should be stored in any of my pockets.

• Water (non bottled) - for obvious reasons

By no means are either of these lists comprehensive. I would also want to exercise caution while determining what to put into the pockets. Preferably nothing overly bulky as to draw undo attention to the cargo bays.


It goes beyond storage though. I'm pretty sure it goes beyond fashion as well,. If they are not in style, it's not my fault. The store sold them to me. It's the store's fault. Fashion be damned, I wanted me some cargos! No, I think cargos transcend functionality and fashion...perhaps to a spiritual plane where...ok, i pretty much ran out of imagination here.

Yet, when I was standing in the dressing room at Steve and Barry's i gazed into the mirror at my reflection and for a moment reflected (ha) on the pairs of cargo pants that I have lost along the way. Perhaps with this new pair those old pairs will find new life. I would say that the satisfied smile and the slight nod that I gave myself answered that question. yes.




Oh... in non-pants related news I really like the band Port O'Brien. listen.

Easily one of my most favorite things about being a parent is being exposed to products aimed towards children. I have always been a big fan of children's shows, books, and toys. Some might say that I have some issue with wanting to regain a lost part of my own childhood, but my childhood was fantastic. I have lots of great memories. Maybe thats why I love this stuff so much. The great thing is, as an adult I approach these items, shows, books, etc with a critical, hopefully "educated" eye, and truly give them the analysis they deserve. I have always planned to do more analysis of the bizarre childrens items that find their way into our house, but always lacked the appropriate format to do it in. But here, I can finally tear these muthas up.

I now present to you, one of my favorite works of literature:



Oh boy. This one is a doozy. Here you can truly judge a book by it's cover. I do use the word "book" lightly, as this is really more of a loose collection of factually incorrect statements, poor grammar, and confusing pictures. But boy do I love it. This book did not enjoy a heavy rotation in the bedtime reading routine. Neither of my kids seem overly fond of it for anything more than chewing on the corner. Which is not always a good indication of the value of the book. For instance Goodnight Moon is also chewed up, and I'm sure that won the Nobel Bedtime Peace Prize in the 50's.

On the cover of Fluffy Bunnies you are treated to the site of a slightly stocky orange rabbit with inky black eyes standing upright somehow, holding an enormous carrot, which he will presumably eat at some point later in the story. Could this be Fluffy Bunnies' attempt at foreshadowing...?


Let's just dive in. Fluffy Bunnies pulls no punches as we are launched right into the middle of the action. "See the fluffy bunnies. They love to play all day". Yep, they certainly do. Although on the left page it looks like the brown and black bunnies are just trying to find a way out of the book. To be honest, I don't blame them. The right page introduces us to some factual information about bunnies. They come in lots of colors. Heck, some are white and black and brown. Lots. I would like the right page more if I take it out of the context of the left page. But I will be fair to Fluffy Bunnies and concede that they are making the most use of their pages.



We are again treated to National Geographic like reporting as we learn more about how the bunnies live. We never stop and think about where the bunnies live, just things like "what color are they?" "how fluffy are they?". But to truly understand we need to know where they make their houses. Luckily "FB" is here with the scoop. It turns out that bunnies have the following housing options available:

1. Farms - What we don't know if it is a farm that the bunnies are running, or if they are just boarding there, or what. Hopefully "Fluffy Bunnies: Advanced" will give us more detail.

2. Tree trunks - The pic shows a bunny up in a tree. I would love to see how the bunny got up there. I could be wrong, and I guess the book is the expert here, but I never figured bunnies were good climbers. I have to be wrong.

3. Long Holes in the woods. This one seems plausible enough. I guess. I'm just glad we don't have soo many options as to where they could live that we could possibly become confused.

Farms, Trunks, Holes. Thats it.


Nothing really earth-shattering on this page. It comes as no revelation that they have strong feet and jump far. However their cuteness rating skyrockets when you realize that their "little noses twitch" due to their long whiskers. I'm also betting that the black bunny gets those butterflies. I think Wesley Snipes in Passenger 57 said it best: "Always bet on black".


Ahhhh. Finally the mystery of the cover, REVEALED. The big orange upright bunny does end up eating the carrot. Or praying over it, or gagging on it. I can't really tell. I also can't get over the feeling that their is some subliminal messaging taking place here. Could Fluffy Bunnies be trying to trick our children into eating vegetables? Daily? Apparently they also conveniently decided to leave out bunnies also eat their young on occasion. Perhaps that is a side of effect from when they don't "eat their carrots every day!" I say that is a cautionary tale missed.


Oh shit.

4. Houses - Apparently they can also live in houses. Like we do. In houses.

The wheels have officially come off on the last page of the book. All semblance of order is lost. We are tossed another possibility of where bunnies could live, in a seemingly weak attempt to get the children to identify with the rodent eating out of the bowl on the floor. The last "sentence" on the left page seems to be a plug by the Rabbit Lobby, to get people to adopt more bunnies as pets. I guess they make good pets. Not great pets, but adequate.

The feeling of sadness, nay desolation on the last page of the book is palpable. Not only does the body language of the black bunny indicate an unwillingness to say goodbye, but the last statement: "Bye, bye, bunnies. I hope I see you again!" Is really a cold reminder of life's uncertainties. I mean, sure, we'd like to think that there will be more opportunities to see bunnies. But what if this is it? What if this the only chance we get? I could be wrong, maybe I misinterpreted it, maybe Fluffy Bunnies is instructing Carpe Diem. Let those (or that) which we care about know how much we care. "I hope I see you again". Seize the moment, never give up hope, eat your carrots. daily.

Thank YOU fluffy bunnies. I know I will see you again someday.

One of you is in luck... Buy it!
No, this is not MY copy. To get my copy, you will have to pry it out of my cold dead fingers.

Yesterday was a pretty busy day. While recovering from a sinus/cold issue, and spending time with my family, I barely had a minute to myself. Why was I so busy you ask? Because my doorbell was ringing off the hook, thats why. Why was my doorbell ringing off the hook (is it on a hook?)? Because the Jehovah's Witnesses were out in full effect.


Now, "Witnesses" , usually stop by every so often with their challenging questions designed to either pique curiosity or annoyance. For me though, it's neither. I generally enjoy their visits, I consider myself versed enough in general religious philosophy to know what they are driving at. I also have an endless supply of reason and wit at my disposal for when religious theories fail (never happens right?). Don't get me wrong, I do not enjoy them so much to invite them into my home, and I do make an effort to maintain a visage of mild irritation as I politely field or reflect their questions as appropriate. But it's usually a fun distraction to watching episode after episode of Dora the Explorer, who by the way is a super cool explorer.

I don't pretend to understand all of the their beliefs, I would imagine they are mostly Christian like alot of people, except with some different rules. If I'm correct, and if my cursory glance at wikipedia was enough for me to remember, then only a certain amount of Witnesses get to go to heaven to "co-rule" with Jesus. The number is around 144,000. I believe demographic info put their total number of believers at around 7 million. Hmmmm, awkward. Who gets to go? Only the best 144k? If i were the one of the other 6.whatever million I would go join a different sect of Christianty, just to make sure I get to go too. That's how it works right? There was also something about not being able to take blood transfusions, but i don't remember what that is all about. I don't have a problem with any of their beliefs. We all believe different and sometimes crazy things (it's called faith, right?). My problem lay more with their methods.

Door to door has been a well used form of sales for a long time. Insurance, vacuums, encyclopedias, God... it's all been done. Unless you have a "No Solicitors" sign up, I think you can expect to get an occasional doorbell push. The issue with yesterday was that the two groups independent of each other employed a tactic that I found unethical - children. The first attempt came during late morning in the form of a man and his terrifed 8 year oldish son. After answering the door and awkward introductions, he prompted the illegally employed minor to give his spiel and hand me their pamphlet about how they "commemorate the death of Jesus" which must be completely different from Easter in some way. Waiddaminud, I think they can't really celebrate holidays...bummer. I just felt so bad for the kid. He was obviously intimidated (see last blog) and Jehovah knows what kind of reception he had been getting that morning from the rest of their "cold calls". I was very polite and thanked them very much. Gratefully, they didn't push the issue and that was that. But, I left kinda irritated that this guy is dragging his kid around as a shield basically to get their pamphlets into peoples homes. I don't want to use the word Pimping (because we all know pimping ain't easy) but thats how it felt. No one is gonna be mean to a kid in a suit on a Sunday, who is obviously sheltered and hasn't come with in 15 feet of a playstation. Heck, I wanted to bring him in and introduce him to the sinful delights of Guitar Hero.



The second group really upped the ante. These folks arrived at around 3pm, and not only did the guy have a terrifed boy in a suit, he brought an extra layer of armor...the overly make-upped (made-up?) old lady. Man, what a 1-2 punch that was. So the gentleman (ringleader) introduced his son and his mother, and stated that they were visiting because he was informed that the residents of my house had been spoken to previously and were interested. I told him that was simply not the case. Apparently his information pre-dated my purchase in August, so the info he was working on was old. Wow, what a slow turn-around. I would think that their membership campaign committees would encourage them to reach out quicker if someone even showed a modicum of interest. Nah, I guess they'll get to it when they get to it. I mean, really what are the odds that I am one of the 144k?

After that the usual, "tell him about us Son..." where I politely listen to the mumbled spiel, I re-affirm that we arent interested. At this point I am then subjected to the old lady's interrogation, which I feel I weathered nicely. This kid looked even more sheltered than the last. He probably would have screamed if my son was holding the giant Elmo doll that we have...for some reason.After this, they politely left and I was left alone for the rest of the day. I don't know when they will be back, I just know that they will be back. We'll be ready for them though. Me, Elmo, and Dora, rocking out to Guitar Hero, crunching the numbers on how we can sneak our way in to the 144k. In fact our new band is called The 144k. Yes, in fact Elmo is on drums.