Daniel85

From Friday’s issue of The Age: 

Marvel in the Middle East
March 23, 2007 - 12:01PM

Bam. Zap. Splat. Kpow!

Fans of comic book superheroes Spider-Man, the Fantastic Four and the X-Men will be able to see their favourite characters when a new theme park opens in Dubai in the United Arab Emirates by 2011.

(Full article here.)

My excitement at the news about Marvel-land is overshadowed by the backwards attitude towards comics. Same old ‘wham, bam, pow!’ attitude that the media have had towards comics for so many years. It’s depressing. No matter how far the industry and the form come, it seems we’ll never get away from that campy 60s Batman show.

Shakespeare and Rembrandt could come back from the dead, start collaborating on a new series for DC (with covers by Escher), and the news stories about it would still open with sound effects.

What is it about Dubai, though? Michael and Jermaine Jackson are hanging out there, now Marvel’s opening a theme park… why are all my favourite entertainment icons going all Lawrence of Arabia? (Yes, I realise the irony of my complaining about an anachronistic viewpoint and then referencing Lawrence of Arabia in relation to the Middle East.)

Since I posted something from Motown 25 the other day, I wanted to share my other favourite moment from the special. It’s a ‘battle of the bands’ style medley with The Temptations and The Four Tops. Enjoy: 

I think The Temps sealed it when they busted out ‘My Girl’, although technically The Four Tops should win simply because it’s actually The Four Tops, and not a bunch of replacements.

I love how the audience goes nuts just when the instantly recognisable tunes begin, before the groups actually start singing. Ah, the magic of Motown!

And check out the sweet bass on Otis Williams. He should be the conductor on the Soul Train.

Remember this little ditty?

It’s not the actual video clip for the song, and the guy wrongly credited it to MC Hammer (who did the similar “Addams Groove” for the Addams Family movie). It’s by Partners In Kryme.

Such an awesome song. It was everywhere in 1990.

Ironic props to the Partners In Kryme for coming up with some ridiculous, overwrought rhymes. (’They didn’t say we’d be there in half an hour!’)

Whatever happened to blockbuster movies getting rap track tie-ins? This, The Addams Family, Men In Black… it was great! And to think it all started with Prince’s song for Batman.

‘But helpless Pieces of the Game He plays
Upon this Chequer-board of Nights and Days;
Hither and thither moves, and checks, and slays,
And one by one back in the Closet lays.’

- From The Rubaiyat of Omar Khayyam (Edward FitzGerald’s translation)

Sublime. Absolutely perfect. It almost makes me want to learn Persian so I can read the original text. But nah, I can’t be bothered, so FitzGerald’s translation will have to do. On ya, Fitzy! (Yeah, I’m on a nickname basis with a poet who’s been dead for over 100 years…)

Sorry, I’ll get back to Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles shortly.

Shit like this:

It’s so pathetically bad that it’s awesome. I pity the kids who are into the current, serious TMNT. No cheesy cabaret acts for them!

I remember going to see a similar Turtles appearance in the Bourke St Mall back in like 1991. No singing April, but it was still pretty cool. It really seemed like every kid in Victoria had flocked to the city that day to see the Turtles; it was nuts. 

TMNT, man… it’s our Woodstock.

Despite being universally hailed as one of the most frustrating games of all time, the original TMNT game on the NES does have one thing going for it: the instruction manual is a work of literary genius.

Just read the introductory prose piece:

PREPARE TO SHELL OUT SOME PUNISHMENT

Steam rises from Wall Street sewers like hot breath from a pack of wild dogs. Just below the pavement’s puddle strewn surface, the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles (TM) have gathered around the leftovers of a family-reunion-sized sausage pizza with extra sauce. Usually these party dudes would inhale the mozzarella platter as if it were the last “‘za” on Earth, but not tonight.

You see, only hours ago, their trusted friend, April (TM), was kidnapped from her mobile news van by the vile, ruthless, terrorist bully SHREDDER (TM)! He’s a Slice-O-Matic crum, a villain more vicious than an army of mind altered Bruce Lees.

With their lovely cohort held hostage, the fearless foursome must concoct a way to rescue April before Shredder brain washes her into joining his Ninjitsu Foot Clan. They’ll combine this treacherous task with the mission they’ve been on since their mutated beginnings- to thrash Shredder and capture his Life Transformer Gun, the lone piece of technology that can turn their rat friend, Splinter (TM), back into the man he used to be.

So take control of these heroes in a half shell, and either claim total victory over New York’s premier Kick Man… or lead them onto the menu at McTurtles (Home of the Quarter Flounder with Cheese).

Brilliant! The first paragraph, anyway. Puddles, steam, sewers, pizza! It’s totally Turtles. ‘Turtles’ is actually an adjective that describes just how reminscent of TMNT a street, building, or urban tableau is. You should all start using it in everyday conversation. Example: “Melbourne Central is pretty Turtles. I half expect to be jumped by a group of Foot Soldiers every time I wait for the 3:09 to Glen Waverley.”

But yeah, that first paragraph is masterly. It paints such a grim, foreboding portrait. The Turtles don’t wanna eat pizza? What’samatterthem?!

Some of the terms are pretty questionable, though. Hands up if you’ve ever heard the slang term “‘za” for pizza? How do you even say that? Is it “zah” or “tsah”?

And what the hell is a “Kick Man”? It sounds like a generic enemy from a side-scrolling beat-em-up like Double Dragon or something. Yeah, you got Kick Men, Punch Men, those gay Cartwheel Men…

The McTurtles thing is just silly. I think maybe Michael J Fox’s coked-up writer character from Bright Lights, Big City got a job writing manual copy for Konami. Why would they serve a Quarter Flounder at McTurtles anyway? It’s fish, and the real McDonald’s already has the Filet-O-Fish, so it’s not that much of a stretch. God, I know it’s only for kids, and kids are dumb, but JESUS. That is the worst pun ever, based on the most tenuous analogical link the writer could make.

To go from that brilliant first paragraph to ‘Quarter Flounder with Cheese’… I just don’t understand it. Couldn’t he just have fallen back on the old standby ‘Turtle soup’ line? I’m mad.

The Motown 25 TV special is best remembered for Michael Jackson introducing the world to the moonwalk, but to me the most interesting thing about that night (I speak as if it wasn’t aired two years before I was born) was when Lando Calrissian joined the Jackson 5 on stage for their reunion performance.

Marlon Jackson wasn’t available for the reunion, so the General (an old friend of the Jackson family) came along to help out. Check it:

Amazing how General Calrissian found time to learn all the Jackon 5’s songs and dance steps in between waging guerilla war on the Empire and feeding his gambling habit.

(Behind-the-scenes photo of father Joe Jackson guiding Lando the stage, under threat of violence).

The year was 2003. The class, English with Mr. Kaberry (affectionately known as ‘Kabers’ or ‘Niles Crane‘). ‘Twas the day of the dreaded Oral SAC. School Assessed Coursework? Classwork? I know not the meaning of this arcane scholarly ritual, but we press on…

Julian had missed class the day Mr. Kaberry assigned presentation times, and so relied on me to tell him where his name fell on the list. I had only scanned the list for the next day to see if I would have to actually prepare my presentation, or get a few more days of precious procrastination, but I assured Jules that I had not seen his name on the list for that first day. All was well.

We were all settled in for a breezy couple of periods of ignoring our classmates’ boring speeches, when the word came, ex cathedra– “Julian Foord?”

I will never forget the look, that broken countenance of anguish, resignation, betrayal, and simmering hatred with which Julian regarded me after Mr. Kaberry summoned him to give the first presentation of the day.

Jules requested to be allowed to retrieve his saxophone, the vital prop for his presentation. I was expecting him to leg it and never return, save perhaps to appear from behind my locker door on a crisp Autumn morning, dagger in hand, muttering some Protoss epithet before exacting bloody vengeance.

But he was back within the minute, and proceeded to deliver a rousing extemporaneous lecture on some music bullshit that, to be honest, bored me senseless. Kabers (ever the man of culture) loved it, though, and gave him 29/30. Top of the class!

I never really apologised for my error until just a couple of months ago, when we were reminiscing about good ol’ GHS whilst playing some NES. Jules assured me all was forgiven, but despite everything turning out okay I still feel guilty. And I wish I had a photo of that look he gave me. Not that I need it- it’s burned into my memory- but just so I could show you all the face of a man betrayed.

I couldn’t find any Gobbledok ads on YouTube, so I uploaded one myself.

Tell me that ad didn’t terrify you as a kid. I always thought there was just one Gobbledok, but the voiceover implies that there are hundreds of them, everywhere, lurking behind couches across Australia!

I still won’t touch Smith’s products due to unpleasant Gobbledok associations. There was a life-size cardboard cutout of the Gobbledok in the spare room at my grandparents house. I had to sleep there. Yyyyeaaahhh…

Hey, remember Lites?! Whatever happened to them? And Ruffles! Oh, my god, Ruffles! I need a life. 

I know the Gobbledok is supposed to be cute, but he just looks like some bizarre hybrid of an Ewok and a Firey from Labyrinth (thanks to Laura for that spot-on comparison). He also reminds me of the creepy aliens from that early 90s Aussie kids’ show, The Miraculous Mellops. I’m probably the only person who remembers that show, so I don’t know why I’m bothering to reference it.

More random 80s Aussie crap on YouTube.

Check out this clip from Countdown in 1983, featuring Ross “Eagle Rock” Wilson’s one-hit wonder wife:

Oh, I probably should have warned you to avert your eyes for the first few seconds. Sorry about that.

Did you catch Molly Meldrum doing what he does best (acting like a total tool)? Gotta love Molly.

I like how the song has nothing to do with aerobics, but that’s the theme they went with for the dancers. Olivia Newton-John must have cancelled at the last minute, so they were stuck with an aerobic dance troupe.

And you get a few seconds of a K-Mart ad The Swingers at the end. Bonus!