Olive mold: the horror!

Is God dead? The gospel according to Pogo

This has got to be one of the most obscure things on YouTube, and if I hadn't stumbled on it many years ago and saved it, I never would have been able to find it again. The title is a mystery, until you figure out what the initials mean. When you try to share it, a notification comes up about it being an "unlisted video" and that you should share it with care, though I had no trouble posting it. The comments are closed, so there's no help there.

I was raised on Pogo, still think it's the most brilliant comic strip ever, and I'm aware that the genius artist Walt Kelly started his career as a Disney animator (and traces of his characters' facial expressions peep out in Dumbo). So he knew animation, and though this is obviously a rough draft of something that had not yet been formally produced, you can more than see what he is getting at. The whole story is here, with the immortal punch line, "We have met the enemy and he is us" - the mystery initials of the video's title. The familiar comic strip characters are also here (all introduced at the beginning), and Kelly, incredibly, does all the voices himself.

Though this preliminary sketch features only a few frames per second, or even less, the fluidity of movement is almost unbelievable, and the facial expressions so vivid that the characters transcend the spasmodic jerkiness that made Paddy the Pelican so surreally atrocious (whether surreally is a word or not - ed). One man doing all the voices is better than the sixteen in the cringeworthy Chuck Jones special that Kelly hated so much. I honestly wonder why he agreed to work with Warner Bros. at all.

I wonder, too, if this was in the works before that misguided attempt. Or was it his answer to the atrocity, the cheapening of his unique and inspired strip into a bland commercial disaster? For there was no second Pogo special, and even the first one wasn't very. Special. This one may not have made it because it was too "message-y", and might still be considered that today, as we have a million more reasons to be very afraid when it comes to the ruin of the environment. Kelly was a visionary, to be sure, and too often they fade from public view when their message becomes too uncomfortable.

June Foray as Pogo (Rocky the Flying Squirrel) grates on the nerves. I could never stand Foray as a voice artist and thought all her characters sounded exactly alike. Her lowest point was dubbing a girl character in The Twilight Zone (the last episode ever broadcast), with astonishingly bad results. Kelly gives Pogo a higher male voice with a Southern drawl, which is just right. Albert the Alligator is nothing short of brilliant. It IS Albert, cigar-chomping, outrageous, the kingpin of Okefenokee.

I remember in the Pogo strip seeing those amazing backgrounds of the swamp, and though I didn't appreciate the artistry back then, I do now. Pogo was criticized sometimes for being too talky, too smart-alecky or just too smart (gasp!), but who else could have come up with a statement like, "New-clear fizzicks ain't so new, and ain't so clear"?

I rediscovered a few gifs I made from the Kelly cartoon special, the one that was never fully realized. The improbably graceful few frames per second is especially poignant here. He could never have envisioned - or maybe he could, given the dreck that was being made for TV at the end of his life - what would happen to cartoons, how they would become computerized and devoid of human feeling. How brilliant wit and quixotic story lines would be replaced by witless schlock.

This is an ancient holy relic from the swamp of my childhood: the first of many Pogo books we owned, and the best-loved/mutilated. I am not sure whose attempts at cursive writing festoon the frontispiece, nor do I know who did that awful math (probably me - I still can't add). Many of the pages are crayoned, which could have been done by my siblings. Although the colouring doesn't stay in the lines, so it could well be mine.

I think that's my mother's handwriting at the top. My God.

The Picnic Panic

Whatever this is, it's absolutely beautiful! I found it on animation historian Jerry Beck's Facebook page, which is chock-a-block with schlock (the good kind) and animation obscurities. One thing he does, which I like, is trace the influence of old-time animation (like this) on modern stuff, and it surprises me to learn that some of those traditional techniques are coming back. Most of it seems to be used in games, which strikes me as a waste. But I'm glad about the resurrection of old methods, because the modern stuff is so bloody sterile, I don't want anything to do with it. Mind you, I am a bit fed up with Disney features now and see Fantasia as downright hokey, too self-consciously arty. My fave cartoon characters are still the ones I grew up with: Clyde Crashcup, Choo Choo on Top Cat, Foghorn Leghorn, Yosemite Sam, and even Hoppity Hooper, Tennessee Tuxedo and Cool McCool. (And Mighty Manfred, the Wonder Dog.)

I remember all the theme songs, for some reason, proving my theory that my head is stuffed with information that will never be of any use to me.

The Picnic Panic has a weird aspect ratio, and looks like an almost perfect square, with SOME of the corners blunted like an '80s snapshot, though it seems suspiciously squished. The colours are so gorgeously saturated that I wonder if it has been tinkered with. The combination with live-action is intriguing because the figures are so doll-like. I have a vague memory of a Rainbow Parade series - all the studios had to have something to go up against Disney's Silly Symphonies. They would have been on TV on Saturday mornings, along with 1930s TerryToons. Oh, those days of penny candy in tiny brown paper bags, of going with my mother to Peck's grocery store, and Lenover Bros. meats, then coming home and watching The Mighty Hercules.

Jerry Beck has answered (very promptly) not one, but two of my animation questions so far, and that's remarkable, because according to his Facebook page he bounces all over the globe like a pinball, speaking at convention after convention, so when does he have time for this? But animation continues to fascinate me. I have the bloody nerve to do those experiments and post them, just because I want to see if I can make things move. I get the feeling that, surprisingly to me, Jerry Beck isn't an animation snob - not by the lovely kitsch he posts, pictures of Popeye projectors, metal Porky Pig windup toys and hideous Bugs Bunny cardboard marionettes. It all seems to be valuable. Not just because it's a slice of history - but because it's cool. 

"Why? Why did you leave me?"

I must admit I've never heard of MaraNatha almond butter (and in fact, I thought Maranatha was some sort of religious reference) until last night, when I saw this ad while watching Dateline. 

I thought it was pretty cool, and wanted to make a gif of it and then reanimate it. This involves shifting the order of the frames, subtracting frames and duplicating others, changing the speed, and going forwards and backwards. 

Below is the gif from the original ad, and then the reanimated version I made from it.

P. S. I was right about Maranatha:

maranatha [mar-uh-nath-uh]

Word Origin

interjection

O Lord, come: used as an invocation in I Cor. 16:22.

Another translation:

Word Origin and History for maranatha

Expand

Maranatha

late 14c., a Bible word, from Greek maranatha, untranslated Semitic word in Cor. xvi:22, where it follows Greek anathema, and therefore has been taken as part of a phrase and used as "a curse." Usually assumed to be from Aramaic maran atha "Our Lord has come," which would make the common usage erroneous (see OED entry), but possibly it is a falsetransliteration of Hebrew mohoram atta "you are put under the ban,"which would make more sense in the context. [Klein]

. . . So what does all this have to do with almond butter?

Jaws of death: or, why no one watches my YouTube channel

Has my bizarre experiment with primitive animation come to a close? Apparently not. This is based on my childhood fear that old cars would bite me. They had such. . . teeth. They even had faces. All cars have faces, even the bland modern ones, but in the 1940s the phenomenon reached a peak. I don't have a sound track for this, as I haven't learned how to do sound gifs yet. I may be getting tired of the whole thing, at last. It ain't exactly Disney, is it? - but making a still picture move still fascinates me.

I want to start doing mashups of gifs with still pictures and slide shows. This will take more work and concentration, and I am not sure I am up for it because my blog views are back down to about ten a day. The bizarre thing is, about a year ago I had a huge (for me) surge in views to about 800. Made no sense at all, as I don't think I was posting anything different, just the usual strange and eccentric stuff on a variety of topics. Back in the days when I really wrote - I mean, short stories and essays and stuff like that - I was lucky to get five views. So what happened?

It's capricious, like videos "going viral", when most of them are either offensive or dangerous or sicky-cute, or just damn dumb. I am dismayed to see YouTube views in the millions (and some are now reaching BILLIONS), when more worthy entries are virtually ignored. 

The video above is a case in point. Hey, I love the "double rainbow guy" as much as anybody - but is this stoned ramble really worthy of 44,709,406 views?

Meanwhile, I stumbled upon this jaw-dropping natural phenomenon, a complete rainbow (and yes, it's a double rainbow too) filmed in Ireland back in 2012. In five years it has attracted 60 views. The counter must have frozen, because I have revisited this one many times, and it still says 60 views. I have a feeling YouTube stops counting after a while, or at least decides that you don't count.

So it's pretty meaningless how many views you get, but the internet brings out the fragile heart of the forgotten child in each of us - well, in SOME of us - a few of us? - oh all right, in me. The child who wasn't invited to the party, for reasons that make no sense at all, except that she just wasn't liked.

I still go back and forth between really not giving a rip (which is true most of the time) and feeling bruised. Here all this hard work is going to waste, and nobody cares. You don't write something and then bury it in the garden to make sure no one sees it. But that's kind of what happened. I had three novels published which barely sold. What nobody tells you, when you decide you want to get published, is that your books MUST sell, or you will not really be considered an author. If you opened a restaurant and nobody came, it wouldn't speak well to the quality of the food. People would stay away because people were staying away.

And if you're box office poison, a publisher would have to be a fool to take you on again. 

But I've kept this blog going a long time. I don't want to think how long, but six years comes to mind. There is something entertaining just in the act of putting a post together. It has to amuse me, first. I guess then I just set it out there. I don't look at stats for months at a time. I am not trying to make money with this, not trying to make anything, really. When it's working well, it's fun. No one would expect a concert pianist to play in an empty hall. But if you play for the sheer pleasure of it, because you want to, because it feels good to do something you know you're good at - maybe there's not so much need for paying customers.

But the inequities are baffling. The above short video of my adorable grandson Ryan has so far received 72,810 views, but lots of my stuff is still at zero (including, most unfairly, videos of the other kids' birthdays). Though it's a cute video, I have no idea why it seemed to draw so much attention when the others didn't. I have one blog post that still racks up attention, and I don't know why that is either: 

"I see dead people": Victorian post-mortem photography

I know there is much more interest in this subject now than when I wrote it in 2012, and even whole Facebook pages are devoted to spotting "fakes" (which one quasi-historian claimed most of my photos were). But that still doesn't explain the 118,490 views it has received. So far.

But then, who's counting?

Harold Lloyd blinks

What, what, WHAT? The mystery cartoon

This is one of five thousand or so gifs I've made and stashed away over the years. Looking for something else in a file, I found it again. Obviously it was taken from an old cartoon, likely on YouTube. But now I'm curious as to WHICH cartoon, from which studio, or at least the name of the cartoon or the name of the series, or the year, or something. 

More than once I tried to dig up the source of this few seconds of quite compelling animation. You can imagine the search terms I've tried! But it has availed me nothing.

It's just so odd. I wish I remembered anything of the entire cartoon, what it was about, what else happened in it. This is all that survives, this dam-bursting, floodgate-opening moment which is actually quite erotic. I say erotic because of the way the water ruptures the barrier and explodes over the rocks in roaring rapids. I like the animation, it's quite well-done, but who or what are those little "things" pulling on the vine-twisted rope? They look like little kewpie dolls or something, tiny naked doll-like creatures that likely inhabit some enchanted village. 

It's just such a strange thing to animate, and I think it's done very well, but WHO DID IT? I'd say Disney, but he wasn't the only knife in the drawer back then, not with Fleischer and Van Beuren and Ub Iwerks and Paul Terry and many others, turning them out regularly to run with feature films.

I'm mesmerized by this thing. I don't even know if the YouTube video is still up. It's SOOOO frustrating when you go on a wild goose chase to find an old video you loved, only to come to the pitiful realization that it doesn't exist any more.

I have sent an email to one Jerry Beck, an animation historian, with this gif attached, so we'll see if we get anything back. If HE doesn't know, I don't think anyone will.

Next day: MIRACLE OF MIRACLES!!

I opened my email this morning, and here is what I received:

That scene is from the Hugh Harman MGM cartoon THE BLUE DANUBE (1939). 

You can see that scene at the 5:00 (5 minute) mark here: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=eGL_Dy84Z_M

Best,

Jerry Beck

Not only did Jerry Beck get back to me in about 6 hours, he gave me exactly the information I needed, plus a link to the actual cartoon, above. Thus I was watching it within seconds, including that incredible floodgates sequence.

Who DOES this? Who answers an email right away, when the entire Lloyd family, not to mention Rich Correll, treated me like I didn't exist? Wouldn't even give me a "no" or tell me they despised the very idea of my novel? Gave me worse than the cold shoulder? And this after what looked like initial curiosity and interest. This crushed me more than I can even say, and sometimes makes me think I have thrown away about five years of my writing life.

But never mind. Some people actually care, and readily share their passion and knowledge with others. THIS is the glory of the internet, which occasionally shows itself. I'll post a better copy of this cartoon if and when I find it, but until then, I've made a gif of the entire "water sequence" by stringing three short gifs together (and if you want any more proof this is erotic, just take a look at the waterfall at the end. I won't say what it is, except that it is a waterfall pussy.) 

Postscript to the postscript. This is the sad part. No sooner had I jumped for joy on rediscovering the mystery cartoon than it was pulled off of YouTube on some obscure copyright grounds. All I can think of is that Strauss' Blue Danube Waltz is no longer in the public domain, even though it is heard everywhere, on TV, radio, movies, the internet, YOUTUBE, etc. etc., or at least it is not available to be used with a cartoon. Stupidest thing I ever heard of, BUT, before it was pulled I did manage to make the longer gif out of the floodgates sequence. So you still got to see the waterfall pussy. But the timing seems suspicious, somehow. 

Oh, and. There's more. In trying to track down another version of this lost cartoon, I actually found one:

It seems ironic to me that while the cartoon has been pulled for copyright reasons, THIS version of it, obviously pirated, will likely stay. 

The rise and fall of Betty Crocker

An animation of kitchen goddess Betty Crocker, rising up like Venus in a grey poplin suit. In the background is her magnificent Coronation cake, the recipe torn from the pages of one of those magazine-type-of-things. 

Velveeta Goodness: animated jelly omelet

Why it would be cool to be able to draw

I can't. I really can't draw, and I realize that what passes for animation on this blog is kind of like those flip pictures we used to make on note pads (sometimes only using two images). But I am still fascinated with making things move. It is all an illusion. If I see a series of still pictures, it just screams at me, make a gif! And the mind is so gullible, it will move from still picture to still picture, and fill in whole seconds in the middle.

I have always been fascinated by these things - "pencil tests" they're called, where I guess the animation is roughed out. You can see through all the characters, which fascinates me. It has an air of shifting, swarming unreality (just like my life). The smudgy grey-and-black is dreamlike, a nightmare in fact. This is a deleted scene, a nasty one, and it's a good job the kiddies weren't subjected to it. 

I have mixed feelings about Disney, the whole megalomonarchy. Of course I was saturated in it as a kid. There was no escaping it. Disney is like eating a whole cake at the same time, or going on a swell carnival ride that leaves you feeling a little sick afterwards. There's a much-too-muchness about it. It's too good, somehow, or just a little fake, and then you feel bad that you were so taken in. I could never abide that falsetto-ish, diaper-wearing little snot with the round ears that always face to the front. Since when is vermin cute and appealing and something you want to welcome into your household? I was more of a Warner Brothers kid, with all those bizarre, smart-alecky characters like Foghorn Leghorn and Yosemite Sam. 

Good Christ! This is incredibly violent! Dwarfs punching each other's lights out. I thought those seven little men got along just great, though what their role in Snow White's life was, I never figured out.

At various points in my life, I've tried to draw something or paint or do SOMETHING artistic, because I just long to. I can't, because what I turn out is so mediocre it's laughable. I once painted a face of Jesus that set me back about six years. I thought I was a great artist then, which tells you something about my mental state. I kept sending scans of my paintings to people, then wondering why they didn't say anything. I truly thought a major new talent was blooming out of nothing.

I thought a lot of other things, but fortunately they didn't come true either. 

Here Yosemite Sam appears to be romancing Granny, who must have come in to some money or something. You can see what looks like fragments of dialogue actually written above his head. He is standing in the middle of nothing, not even blank but dirty brown. At one point he disappears except for his face. Fascinating. Maybe I really live inside an unfinished cartoon, but just haven't realized it yet.

I have watched people sketch who really know how to do it, and it confounds me. I watched a bit out of a movie where Terry Gilliam was sketching storyboards for his aborted Don Quixote movie. I just couldn't believe how he knew to do that, to make an image that was coherent and even vital and alive with one or two simple, even primitive strokes. Like an ear for music, I guess you have to just have it.

DIRECTOR'S CUT. That horrible Snow White scene in slow-mo. Note that various dwarfs appear and disappear as they annihilate each other.

Slow-motion Sam. Downright creepy, especially the way Granny vanishes when she is no longer needed. The one-frame colorization, or whatever you call it, is startling. 

The last words of John Lennon

Betty White eating a hot dog

Are You Lost In The World Like Me

Just stumbled on this when looking for something else - specifically, the animated Facebook cover for Meowingtons (which I MIGHT be able to post a link to). This just started playing on Facebook, as videos are wont to do, and I was snipped. I mean, snapped - I mean, soaked into it, because it is so very real. It humbles me to think that a real cartoonist (someone named Steve Cutts) animated this, when I aspire to make jerky little figures move with a rinkydink gif program. It's based on the animation style of my beloved TerryToons from the early '30s, with a macabre side of Max Fleischer expressionism, but its message is as "right now" as it gets. It expresses everything I feel about Phone Culture, which I still refuse to join (though I do have one, and you'll never guess what I do with it!. . . That's right.)

Watch this more than once. More than twice. I'm going to watch it again later. And again.

The splash of a drop

Oh happy day!

            

Widge/wodge: animation

Screenshots: Harold in stop motion

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

This may not look like much to you (and, in fact, it isn't), but for me it represents something big: my first attempt to capture stills from video. I never even tried this for years, because every time I went on a site to find out how to do it, the instructions seemed more and more complex and full of bafflegab (not to mention contradictory, with everyone describing a different method). Then, bingo, I found a page today where you only have to highlight, copy, paste, and click. 

Et voila! You have a screenshot.

The thing of it is, though, that taking a series of screenshots and then putting them back together into an animation is kind of - well, it's a little redundant. An exercise, at best. I tell myself: honest to God, I can't help but learn something about REAL animation this way. But a gif would do just as well, wouldn't it? Or better.

But perhaps not. This way I can edit scenes, add characters, use title cards, include surreal images, and all manner of other stuff, once I know what I'm doing.

This is a kind of stop motion Harold cartoon. Claymation, if you will. His middle name was Clayton, after all. I have fantasies of manipulating this little clay figure, making him do things, even things he doesn't want to do. . . time to go to bed, Margaret.