Greetings, friends. Just wanted to drop a little goodness your way that sadly has little to do with The Simpsons (excepting the fact that pretty much every joke I’ve ever made is based on some aspect of the show, but that’s a separate issue). A new comedic video I made … right here:
Watch, like, share, et cetera. And a shiny, new donkey shall be your reward.
Hurry, Charley! There is not much time. — Rainier Wolfcastle
I ain’t goin’ nowhere. I been in this square for near thirty seasons, and I ain’t a’leavin’ now! — Charley Weaver, “Krusty Gets Kancelled”
The immobility of Springfield Squares contestant Charley Weaver (whose merry antics could be the subject of their own post if I had some money) is a reference to the heroism of actor and crucial center square Paul Lynde. Bake ‘em away, toys:
Lynde, who featured in Bewitched and some other stuff, is probably best known for his one-liners on Hollywood Squares, where the majority of his gags centered around his not-particularly-concealed homosexuality, a humor device that would later be adopted by every single gay celebrity to get within ten feet of a microphone. How about some more zingers, Paul?
Celebrities in the ’70s had teeth, man. And weren’t funny.
Nonetheless, we principally bring up Lynde today in order to direct you to the following story, about which I would venture the Simpsons writers were thinking when plotting out the scene with Weaver on the beach. From Wikipedia:
An anecdote related during the A&E Biography on Lynde described an earthquake that occurred during the Hollywood Squares taping that frightened and alarmed many of the guests. Lynde remained in his seat, tapping his fingers, asking if they were going to finish the show.
Real men wear leisure suits. Remember that, ye foolhardies.
It’s good that Bart did that. It’s very good. — Football announcer guy, “Treehouse Of Horror II”
Happy Halloween-ish! It’s been five spooky weeks since I’ve posted an update! Oooo-oooo!
Bart’s “Treehouse” foray into omnipotence parodies a classic Jerome Bixby tale, “It’s A Good Life”, which depicts the horrors produced by another little boy’s nightmarish powers. You can check out the full text of the story here [.pdf pop-up] — it’s quite good and quite unsettling.
Though Bixby’s story was a success in its own right, it really came to life as an episode of The Twilight Zone. Let’s skip to the good part:
That same scene, as depicted in Bixby’s book:
“Bad man,” Anthony said, and thought Dan Hollis into something like nothing anyone would have believed possible …
… a jack-in-the-box! Thanks, television! “Good Life” is generally regarded as a pretty decent Twilight Zone ep, so it has seen various interpretations over the years, including as one of the segments in Twilight Zone: The Movie, in which Nancy fricking Cartwright happens to play the kid’s sister. Now that’s spooky.
No wonder he won Minnesota. — Homer, “Lisa’s First Word”
With the presidential debates lurking around the corner like some drug-addled maniac, why not take a trip back in time to the whirlwind that was the 1984 Democratic primaries? Take it away, boys:
Boy, the more things change, the more they stay the same, eh? Beside the Dem candidates’ seated postures and muted tie tones (not a single plain red or blue), it’s the same rigamarole. New ideas this, hymietown that.
And a general absence of concrete policy discussion, as evidenced by the fact that laundry ship namesake Walter Mondale was able to fell his chief competitor by quoting from a friggin’ hamburger commercial:
And that was enough for Mondale to take it! And by “it”, I mean the Democratic primary. After which, Reagan annihilated him in the general election. You’ve doubtlessly seen this before, but it’s worth a second look:
This image is somewhat deceptive. Alaska and Hawaii are actually much farther away from the mainland than that.
Greetings, friends. No, this isn’t new SHS content, but I appreciate the offer. No, today I’m here to direct you all to something else I’ve cooked up in my free time: a short comedy video that I’m confident you’ll enjoy.
And here’s the kicker: It has absolutely nothing to do with The Simpsons! I know that might be hard to believe given all that we’ve done here, but you can see for yourself as you watch, re-watch, and laboriously share on social media the following:
Hilarious, right? Forgive the stupid title and the unnecessary profanity. And do spread the video with the universe if you believe it merits such treatment.
Speaking of bald social media plugs, you also may have noticed a recent change in the SHS Twitter handle. Namely, that I’ve merged it with my personal account. So you’ll now see my trenchant personal insights and devilish bon mots along with the regular SHS update material. Hopefully that won’t be too annoying.
Finally, speaking of new material, after you’re done laughing yourself silly at the above video and tweets, there will be a new SHS entry on Friday. It’s about hamburgers. Patience, my pet.
It’s a pornography store. I was buying pornography. — Homer, “Mr. Plow”
Greetings, friends. How I have missed you. In compensation for my prolonged absence, today’s post will be virtually devoid of educational content and devoted instead to the human body in all its crapulence.
NSFW. Combining his competing loves of photography and nude men, Robert Mapplethorpe over the course of his life developed a perverted arts portfolio that would make even the most seasoned Abercrombie & Fitch photographer blush.
But it wasn’t all young boys and cocaine parties with Andy Warhol. Well, no, that’s pretty much exactly what it was, as that’s what it meant to be a gay creative type living in New York in the ’70s. It’s certainly okay to be jealous.
Only Duff fills your Q-zone with pure beer goodness. — Doctor guy, “Duffless”
Ignoring what “Q” would stand for in the above advert, let us turn instead to the stimulating vapors given off by a cool Camel. Right … here!
I can’t tell who’s behind the website that hosts the above-linked vid, but it certainly has some entertaining old timey cigarette ads that will drop your jaw. My favorite are the ones in which the Flintstones shill for Winston. More astounding is that these ancient commercials often clear the one-minute mark. I was cruising Facebook eight seconds in.
Nonetheless, with the support of the medical community behind it, Camel would hammer home its T-zone pitch time and again in the post-WWII years. Click here for a series of equally entertaining Camel ads from the golden era of smoking right up through the forced retirement of Menthol Moose.