Monday, 23 February 2009
The Lion Man
Admittedly this isn't the greatest title sequence of all time. It's just a selection of clips from the tv show and normally that doesn't fill me with Television Title Sequence joy.
But then you listen to the song.
I cannot stop singing the song.
The world needs more songs like this, songs like this could probably end global warming and wars if enough people heard them. That's just science.
Monday, 16 February 2009
Beverly Hills 90210: Past and Present
Let's get this out of the way immediately. Now this. is what I. am talkin' 'bout:
This shit is for REAL. I ain't never turning down a little deck scratching but when the saxamaphone kicks in don't you just get little chills? (In actual fact I involuntarily clothes my eyes and make a little 'white man funk face' whilst swaying. Unironically. It just seems to be the most natural reaction to saxophone music, thus is my genetic destiny as a caucasian person) . My whole body seems to be screaming THIS IS A SHOW I MUST WATCH WITH MY EYES RIGHT NOW cos my ears are havin' a total eargasm over here. Eyegasms cannot be far away.
That they are not.
BOOM! BOOM! BOOM! Goes the Mariopaint mushroom drums as we get shots of the outside storefronts of Cartier, Gucci, and um... Fred (anyone?). Very glamorous. You stood on a street corner and filmed that. I could do that shit outside Somerfield 'n all but never mind. We get it: glam is the name of the game. But what is this? A family does family things as a family and dressed in some of the ugliest clothes you or I have ever laid our eyes upon (*spoiler alert* this is not the end of the sartorial torture). They hug on sofas and poke fake flowers in little pots (anyone else assuming she's on her 4th Tom Collins of the day and trying to figure out if they're real or not? I do stuff like that when I've had a tipple or two all the freaking time), they barbecue with perturbed looks on their faces, they power walk in the shell suit me and Sophia from The Golden Girls both had in 1990 (8 year olds and 80 year olds in the 90's dressed alarmingly alike). (Or maybe that was just me).
It's not all family time though. Look as these teenagers get up to their wacky high-jinks; slowly turning in hallways (God. Remember the days when it was ALL about turning slowly in a hallway? That was the 1990 version of pokemon if I recall correctly. All the rage amongst the 'cool kids'. I could turn pretty slowly in a hallway but not slowly enough so I never really got the respect I felt I deserved from my peers. That still smarts a little), throwing oneself down on one's bed dressed like a boxer from the 1800's (for some reason) and catching basketballs and smiling. What I wouldn't do to catch a basketball and smile right now. It looks so freeing for a man in high school who looks old enough to have fathered most of the other kids that are students there.
That's what the boys did but what of the girls? Mostly they fluffed their bangs ('fringes' for those not americanised enough from years of watching shit like this), wore fucking ridiculous hats that look like they are attempting to swallow your head and roll around on beds whilst talking on the phone in their jimbly-jamblies. We've all done that though right girls? Sometimes I just hold a phone to my ear and do log rolls from one side of the bed to the other just to get enough oestrogen pumping in my system to stop my moustache from growing too unruly (that's a pretty standard beauty tip but for those ho didn't know I figured I'd enlighten you).
Blah blah blah jock, blah blah blah geek girl, but now get ready because GRAMPA HAS COME TO TOWN BABY. And he's been watching far too many Happy Days reruns. Just because one guy in his 40's slicks his hair back and gets a lot of pussy doesn't mean you gonna sunshine. What he is actually mouthing in this clip (I can lipread after all the CIA training I did... fuck. I wasn't sposed to mention that. I dropped out before they got to the 'discretion' seminar) is; "Sit on it. Ehhh. Exactamundo. Now come to my office which is actually just the bathroom at Al's. I MEAN THE PEACH PIT". Sci-en-tif-ic FACT.
Blah blah blah, more geeks. Brian Austin Green is pretty cute though. I'll give them that. I would also totally date a guy who ore a mustard shirt with jeans and a tweed jacket. That's a brave fashion statement for a brave kind of guy.
Here she is though, light of my life, stealer of my heart (and of Shannen's hat. She's wearing the same one Brenda had on earlier). I have nothing bad to say about Tori Spelling (nothing that hasn't already been said anyway). Did anyone see that sitcom where she played herself and Sylar was her GBF? Did I dream that? It seems like the kind of dream I would have but I'm sure it actually existed. Maybe not... if a sitcom exists and no-one sees it did it ever really exist at all? That's a mind-puzzle that's been confounding scientists for centuries now but I can say pretty definitively that yes. Of course it did. There's proof and everything.
Blah blah hugging, blah blah foreplay (is James Eckhart wearing a sweater under his shirt? Please tell me that's NOT his chest hair! Christ on a bike), Carol Potter nodding the exact number of syllables in her name as the aforementioned name appears on screen, then we see where Ross Gellar got the inspiration to begin his music career (has anyone ever looked cooler than that guy playing a keyboard?). Blah blah family, inappropriate sibling love and fade out...
Now compare it to the new titles.
My eyes and ears are throwing up up into their mouths. (THAT'S RIGHT, MY EYES AND EARS HAVE MOUTHS. DEAL WITH IT.) This is not a show I want to watch. It is a show I want to burn. And I have been glued to The Hills of late (I STILL DO NOT UNDERSTAND THAT PROGRAM - IS IT REAL OR NOT?! SOMEONE TELL ME PLEASE). This is the kind of shit that gives people ammunition to say that things were always better 'back in my day'. Things were not better 'back in your day', the future is always better.
Unless of course we're talking about gay rights in California or the Beverly Hills 90210 redux. It seems a little too cowinkydinkle that they're both from the same place.
Our mission then is clear: destroy California. The future depends upon it.
[P.S. I gots to thank my main man Paddington's Shadow for the inspiration on this]
This shit is for REAL. I ain't never turning down a little deck scratching but when the saxamaphone kicks in don't you just get little chills? (In actual fact I involuntarily clothes my eyes and make a little 'white man funk face' whilst swaying. Unironically. It just seems to be the most natural reaction to saxophone music, thus is my genetic destiny as a caucasian person) . My whole body seems to be screaming THIS IS A SHOW I MUST WATCH WITH MY EYES RIGHT NOW cos my ears are havin' a total eargasm over here. Eyegasms cannot be far away.
That they are not.
BOOM! BOOM! BOOM! Goes the Mariopaint mushroom drums as we get shots of the outside storefronts of Cartier, Gucci, and um... Fred (anyone?). Very glamorous. You stood on a street corner and filmed that. I could do that shit outside Somerfield 'n all but never mind. We get it: glam is the name of the game. But what is this? A family does family things as a family and dressed in some of the ugliest clothes you or I have ever laid our eyes upon (*spoiler alert* this is not the end of the sartorial torture). They hug on sofas and poke fake flowers in little pots (anyone else assuming she's on her 4th Tom Collins of the day and trying to figure out if they're real or not? I do stuff like that when I've had a tipple or two all the freaking time), they barbecue with perturbed looks on their faces, they power walk in the shell suit me and Sophia from The Golden Girls both had in 1990 (8 year olds and 80 year olds in the 90's dressed alarmingly alike). (Or maybe that was just me).
It's not all family time though. Look as these teenagers get up to their wacky high-jinks; slowly turning in hallways (God. Remember the days when it was ALL about turning slowly in a hallway? That was the 1990 version of pokemon if I recall correctly. All the rage amongst the 'cool kids'. I could turn pretty slowly in a hallway but not slowly enough so I never really got the respect I felt I deserved from my peers. That still smarts a little), throwing oneself down on one's bed dressed like a boxer from the 1800's (for some reason) and catching basketballs and smiling. What I wouldn't do to catch a basketball and smile right now. It looks so freeing for a man in high school who looks old enough to have fathered most of the other kids that are students there.
That's what the boys did but what of the girls? Mostly they fluffed their bangs ('fringes' for those not americanised enough from years of watching shit like this), wore fucking ridiculous hats that look like they are attempting to swallow your head and roll around on beds whilst talking on the phone in their jimbly-jamblies. We've all done that though right girls? Sometimes I just hold a phone to my ear and do log rolls from one side of the bed to the other just to get enough oestrogen pumping in my system to stop my moustache from growing too unruly (that's a pretty standard beauty tip but for those ho didn't know I figured I'd enlighten you).
Blah blah blah jock, blah blah blah geek girl, but now get ready because GRAMPA HAS COME TO TOWN BABY. And he's been watching far too many Happy Days reruns. Just because one guy in his 40's slicks his hair back and gets a lot of pussy doesn't mean you gonna sunshine. What he is actually mouthing in this clip (I can lipread after all the CIA training I did... fuck. I wasn't sposed to mention that. I dropped out before they got to the 'discretion' seminar) is; "Sit on it. Ehhh. Exactamundo. Now come to my office which is actually just the bathroom at Al's. I MEAN THE PEACH PIT". Sci-en-tif-ic FACT.
Blah blah blah, more geeks. Brian Austin Green is pretty cute though. I'll give them that. I would also totally date a guy who ore a mustard shirt with jeans and a tweed jacket. That's a brave fashion statement for a brave kind of guy.
Here she is though, light of my life, stealer of my heart (and of Shannen's hat. She's wearing the same one Brenda had on earlier). I have nothing bad to say about Tori Spelling (nothing that hasn't already been said anyway). Did anyone see that sitcom where she played herself and Sylar was her GBF? Did I dream that? It seems like the kind of dream I would have but I'm sure it actually existed. Maybe not... if a sitcom exists and no-one sees it did it ever really exist at all? That's a mind-puzzle that's been confounding scientists for centuries now but I can say pretty definitively that yes. Of course it did. There's proof and everything.
Blah blah hugging, blah blah foreplay (is James Eckhart wearing a sweater under his shirt? Please tell me that's NOT his chest hair! Christ on a bike), Carol Potter nodding the exact number of syllables in her name as the aforementioned name appears on screen, then we see where Ross Gellar got the inspiration to begin his music career (has anyone ever looked cooler than that guy playing a keyboard?). Blah blah family, inappropriate sibling love and fade out...
Now compare it to the new titles.
My eyes and ears are throwing up up into their mouths. (THAT'S RIGHT, MY EYES AND EARS HAVE MOUTHS. DEAL WITH IT.) This is not a show I want to watch. It is a show I want to burn. And I have been glued to The Hills of late (I STILL DO NOT UNDERSTAND THAT PROGRAM - IS IT REAL OR NOT?! SOMEONE TELL ME PLEASE). This is the kind of shit that gives people ammunition to say that things were always better 'back in my day'. Things were not better 'back in your day', the future is always better.
Unless of course we're talking about gay rights in California or the Beverly Hills 90210 redux. It seems a little too cowinkydinkle that they're both from the same place.
Our mission then is clear: destroy California. The future depends upon it.
[P.S. I gots to thank my main man Paddington's Shadow for the inspiration on this]
Monday, 20 October 2008
Chuck
I don't have anything snarky to say. I think these are really well done. In fact, I think they're the best titles on offer at present. Also, I guess here is as good as place as any to state - for the record - that I am head-over-heels for Zach and wish to marry him forthwith.
Monday, 13 October 2008
Sweet Valley High
Could there be two different girls who look the same?
Err.. yeah if they're, you know, twins and that (unless they're Arnold Schwarzenegger and Danny DeVito).
I've been singing this a lot today. Don't ask me why I've been binging on early 90's tween tv recently (maybe because, according to this, 'the idealization of a time period generally comes about 20 years after that time period ends, and as scary as it seems, we're getting pretty close to being two decades out from 1990' or maybe because I'm an unemployed bum with little else to occupy my mind. Most likely it's a little from column A and a little from column B). At any rate, when the time comes that I'm hunting down my purple docs and wearing electric blue fishnets under ripped jeans (yes really) we can start worrying properly (actually, that sounds awesome. Now I've got a clothing project for tomorrow! Yay!). However in this instance I think it's because of this. Although our twins weren't so keen on beating other stripper bitches up or indeed dating the same guy AT THE SAME TIME (I don't think... Plus, I reckon Jessica had this latent lesbo vibe that hot, strong women with firm jaws often do so, if anything, Liz really only had to worry about her stealing away sweet lil' Enid and teaching her dirty, dirty things)...
Sorry I got caught up in my own lesbian fantasy there. Where was I? Ah yes, Sweet Valley High. The books, the television show, the soundtrack; it all permeated my primary school years (ok, not so much the soundtrack but I needed something else for the 'rule of three'). Twas not a corner on the playground, a line waiting patiently for lunch, nor the allocated Friday afternoon reading sessions where one could not find a pile of Sweet Valley High books were one to ransack the belongings of a bunch of 8 year olds girls (and if you were to do that, you SICK FUCK). I loved it. Hell, everyone with two 'X' chromosomes (and some with 'XY' chromosomes and a whole lot of fabulous) loved it. Along with the books (them, 'Hitler Stole Pink Rabbit', and Paula Danziger books were my literary OBSESSIONS around then. Oh god, now I'm going to have to raid the loft and hunt those bad boys down. I'm officially renaming tomorrow 'Nostaligia Day' and I'm going to wallow in it until all my eyebrows grow back and that awful fringe my mum cut for me returns) was of course the tv show and in turn, the tv show's title sequence.
[Just for a second pretend it's Saturday morning, you're there with a bowl of shreddies in your Take That pajamas laughing at something John Barrowman has just said and then Emma Forbes turns to camera with a cute lil' pixie grin and introduces this...]
and you're like 'Holy fuck. This is awesome'.
Most notably, I've just realised why I used to edge my photographs in my scrapbooks on just two sides in pastels like that.
So yeah, we've got twins. Blonde, skinny twins. Immediately you're thinking 'where's the shot of them in a bikini? And er... why aren't they all incestuously snuggling?'* but don't worry because BAM! 10 seconds in and we've got bikinis, seven seconds later... the snuggling commences. PHEW!
Then we get the ironic (in the Alanis Morissette version of the word where it's not really that ironic... ironically) 'could there be two different girls who look the same?' lyric, visually juxtaposed with them being all different and stuff. One wears white, the other black! They walk in different directions! One hugs people, the other grabs her own ass and stands away from crowds! THIS SHIT IS BANANAS!
But that's not all. Francine Pascal's SVH isn't just about ass-grabbing twins. Look! What light through yonder window breaks? Tis Amarilis; she enjoys using a lot of product in her hair, looking from left and right, and sighing. With talents like that she really only needs one name. Let's face it, one day she's going to make it BIG... and I do mean Madonna, Oprah and Fonzy big (it's just she needed to take a bit of a break after doing that Fresh Prince episode in 1995 and is still working towards the making it big thing. It's on her to do list alright? Just, shut up ok because her agent has some very promising leads and yeah, he hasn't been in touch lately but that's totally fine because she's got some really important and fulfilling things to do like watching The View and Tyra).
Then it's this smug muthafucker who has THREE names to make up for Amarilis having only one. Fuck me, WHY did we like step haircuts? (I'm sure I've posed this before). You just know that someone with teeth that white and skin that tanned is a total dick in real life (personally I much preferred the Jeremy Garrett version of 'Todd Wilkins' as this floppy haired bitch just made me all eye-stabby). Don't worry though because Brock Burnett (and I thought having ridiculous names and seeming kind of gay was a recent thing!) looking to all the world like your friendly neighbourhood serial date rapist has rolled into view. THEN, THEN, come the lesbians. Or at least the college 'experimentation' brand of lesbians. They probably ended up married with two kids but will always look back fondly on their days of wearing love bead chokers** and twirling around in waistcoats being guided gently into the scary and exciting world of 'lady lovin'' by a German girl called 'Olga'.
Or not.
The token nerd, the token latino ('person of color' if you PLEASE), laughing, running, jumping, skating and then...
*CUE POORLY WRITTEN AND ABYSMALLY CHARACTERISED PROGRAMME*
Bliss.
*For the record, I don't get why twins top the male lesbian fantasy league because isn't incest kinda gross? Like, evolution and socialisation has made it gross so why is this particular incest type shizz ok? Or do I just not want to know? Yeah, ok, never mind.
** Not that I'm knocking chokers. Around that time I had a black velvet one with a rose in the middle. A style goddess even then.
Err.. yeah if they're, you know, twins and that (unless they're Arnold Schwarzenegger and Danny DeVito).
I've been singing this a lot today. Don't ask me why I've been binging on early 90's tween tv recently (maybe because, according to this, 'the idealization of a time period generally comes about 20 years after that time period ends, and as scary as it seems, we're getting pretty close to being two decades out from 1990' or maybe because I'm an unemployed bum with little else to occupy my mind. Most likely it's a little from column A and a little from column B). At any rate, when the time comes that I'm hunting down my purple docs and wearing electric blue fishnets under ripped jeans (yes really) we can start worrying properly (actually, that sounds awesome. Now I've got a clothing project for tomorrow! Yay!). However in this instance I think it's because of this. Although our twins weren't so keen on beating other stripper bitches up or indeed dating the same guy AT THE SAME TIME (I don't think... Plus, I reckon Jessica had this latent lesbo vibe that hot, strong women with firm jaws often do so, if anything, Liz really only had to worry about her stealing away sweet lil' Enid and teaching her dirty, dirty things)...
Sorry I got caught up in my own lesbian fantasy there. Where was I? Ah yes, Sweet Valley High. The books, the television show, the soundtrack; it all permeated my primary school years (ok, not so much the soundtrack but I needed something else for the 'rule of three'). Twas not a corner on the playground, a line waiting patiently for lunch, nor the allocated Friday afternoon reading sessions where one could not find a pile of Sweet Valley High books were one to ransack the belongings of a bunch of 8 year olds girls (and if you were to do that, you SICK FUCK). I loved it. Hell, everyone with two 'X' chromosomes (and some with 'XY' chromosomes and a whole lot of fabulous) loved it. Along with the books (them, 'Hitler Stole Pink Rabbit', and Paula Danziger books were my literary OBSESSIONS around then. Oh god, now I'm going to have to raid the loft and hunt those bad boys down. I'm officially renaming tomorrow 'Nostaligia Day' and I'm going to wallow in it until all my eyebrows grow back and that awful fringe my mum cut for me returns) was of course the tv show and in turn, the tv show's title sequence.
[Just for a second pretend it's Saturday morning, you're there with a bowl of shreddies in your Take That pajamas laughing at something John Barrowman has just said and then Emma Forbes turns to camera with a cute lil' pixie grin and introduces this...]
and you're like 'Holy fuck. This is awesome'.
Most notably, I've just realised why I used to edge my photographs in my scrapbooks on just two sides in pastels like that.
So yeah, we've got twins. Blonde, skinny twins. Immediately you're thinking 'where's the shot of them in a bikini? And er... why aren't they all incestuously snuggling?'* but don't worry because BAM! 10 seconds in and we've got bikinis, seven seconds later... the snuggling commences. PHEW!
Then we get the ironic (in the Alanis Morissette version of the word where it's not really that ironic... ironically) 'could there be two different girls who look the same?' lyric, visually juxtaposed with them being all different and stuff. One wears white, the other black! They walk in different directions! One hugs people, the other grabs her own ass and stands away from crowds! THIS SHIT IS BANANAS!
But that's not all. Francine Pascal's SVH isn't just about ass-grabbing twins. Look! What light through yonder window breaks? Tis Amarilis; she enjoys using a lot of product in her hair, looking from left and right, and sighing. With talents like that she really only needs one name. Let's face it, one day she's going to make it BIG... and I do mean Madonna, Oprah and Fonzy big (it's just she needed to take a bit of a break after doing that Fresh Prince episode in 1995 and is still working towards the making it big thing. It's on her to do list alright? Just, shut up ok because her agent has some very promising leads and yeah, he hasn't been in touch lately but that's totally fine because she's got some really important and fulfilling things to do like watching The View and Tyra).
Then it's this smug muthafucker who has THREE names to make up for Amarilis having only one. Fuck me, WHY did we like step haircuts? (I'm sure I've posed this before). You just know that someone with teeth that white and skin that tanned is a total dick in real life (personally I much preferred the Jeremy Garrett version of 'Todd Wilkins' as this floppy haired bitch just made me all eye-stabby). Don't worry though because Brock Burnett (and I thought having ridiculous names and seeming kind of gay was a recent thing!) looking to all the world like your friendly neighbourhood serial date rapist has rolled into view. THEN, THEN, come the lesbians. Or at least the college 'experimentation' brand of lesbians. They probably ended up married with two kids but will always look back fondly on their days of wearing love bead chokers** and twirling around in waistcoats being guided gently into the scary and exciting world of 'lady lovin'' by a German girl called 'Olga'.
Or not.
The token nerd, the token latino ('person of color' if you PLEASE), laughing, running, jumping, skating and then...
*CUE POORLY WRITTEN AND ABYSMALLY CHARACTERISED PROGRAMME*
Bliss.
*For the record, I don't get why twins top the male lesbian fantasy league because isn't incest kinda gross? Like, evolution and socialisation has made it gross so why is this particular incest type shizz ok? Or do I just not want to know? Yeah, ok, never mind.
** Not that I'm knocking chokers. Around that time I had a black velvet one with a rose in the middle. A style goddess even then.
Thursday, 9 October 2008
Title Sequence + Art
= something really really beautiful.
The Art of the Title Sequence
I kind of want to print some of these out and have them as posters on my wall but I'm sure that'd contravene all SORTS of copyright laws. If there's one thing I will never ever do it's break the law (unless drugs or public sex acts are involved).
The Art of the Title Sequence
I kind of want to print some of these out and have them as posters on my wall but I'm sure that'd contravene all SORTS of copyright laws. If there's one thing I will never ever do it's break the law (unless drugs or public sex acts are involved).
Monday, 6 October 2008
Clarrisa Explains It All
Literally all of it. Ever.
See. In the 90's kids could dress like prostitutes and still exude awesomeness from every pore. Nowadays it's just sad.
Also: I heart Sam. I want to skateboard like him, just glide past individuals who are pretending to write their names in mid-air all nonchalant like. I have never mastered the art of nonchalance and it causes me actual physical pain.
See. In the 90's kids could dress like prostitutes and still exude awesomeness from every pore. Nowadays it's just sad.
Also: I heart Sam. I want to skateboard like him, just glide past individuals who are pretending to write their names in mid-air all nonchalant like. I have never mastered the art of nonchalance and it causes me actual physical pain.
Monday, 29 September 2008
Blossom
Everything I know I learned from Blossom.
Fact.
This has to be one of my top five tv title songs ever. It makes me purse my lips and do jazz hands when I'm by myself and singing it in my head. The only issue is that I close my eyes when I'm doing that so it's only a matter of time before someone walks in on me and catches me with my knees bent and butt sticking out shaking my hands in front of me and looking like a deformed Mick Jagger (if I don't post for a while then just assume I've been put away in some kind of secure mental facility after my shameful Blossom theme dance has been discovered). Please note: I do also sing it out loud quite often. It's very catchy. My next door neighbours get a rendition at least once a day when I sing it whilst making my dinner.
Anyway, here it is. It's awesome. Look at the HATS! (I'm buying a new hat this week. I wanna work a Mayim Bialik vibe and I don't care who knows it). GASP! at the modern jazz, MARVEL! at the sixties jive, LEARN! the hippy-hoppish thing she does with Six (and, as a bonus, get to be me aged 13), LOVE! the tap (and try not to do yourself a mischief kicking your leg up high like her if you copy that 'n all).
It's basically like watching me on a night out (although there's no robot-ing or running man so add that in and you're there).
Here we go... and remember, this is just my opinionation.
Fact.
This has to be one of my top five tv title songs ever. It makes me purse my lips and do jazz hands when I'm by myself and singing it in my head. The only issue is that I close my eyes when I'm doing that so it's only a matter of time before someone walks in on me and catches me with my knees bent and butt sticking out shaking my hands in front of me and looking like a deformed Mick Jagger (if I don't post for a while then just assume I've been put away in some kind of secure mental facility after my shameful Blossom theme dance has been discovered). Please note: I do also sing it out loud quite often. It's very catchy. My next door neighbours get a rendition at least once a day when I sing it whilst making my dinner.
Anyway, here it is. It's awesome. Look at the HATS! (I'm buying a new hat this week. I wanna work a Mayim Bialik vibe and I don't care who knows it). GASP! at the modern jazz, MARVEL! at the sixties jive, LEARN! the hippy-hoppish thing she does with Six (and, as a bonus, get to be me aged 13), LOVE! the tap (and try not to do yourself a mischief kicking your leg up high like her if you copy that 'n all).
It's basically like watching me on a night out (although there's no robot-ing or running man so add that in and you're there).
Here we go... and remember, this is just my opinionation.
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