A Creepy Peeps Update

Scarlett

The game is still afoot, it seems. I arrived home on Friday afternoon to find a pink gift bag hanging on my doorknob. I immediately knew it was another dolly for my growing collection. The eerily beautiful creation on your right came with the following (edited by me) note:

Dearest Brian,

Who needs an Easter egg hunt when you can continue wondering which of your loving friends is behind your creepy peeps?!

We bring this one to your door as she is magnificent, ceremonial and resplendent with colorful joy! A match to your present state of bliss and wonder with this (J) person we keep hearing about. Ah yes, you thought perhaps your blissful state had gone unnoticed? We're creepy, not blind dear one.

We do hope he shares your love for the unusual surprises in life!

Wishing you, the other (cartoon doll heads, colored in order of receipt: brown, green, pink and yellow) and (J) every happiness!!!

Love,

The Royal Order of Creepiness.

The fact that they know about J means they are  Facebook friends or followers, which doesn't help in identifying them in the least! Still loving this game! While more than one friend has expressed their jealously, several still find it genuinely creepy.

Of course, now that I have five, I thought it was time to name them. In order of reciept (you can see the first four here) they are: Aja; Jade; Temperance; Hanael and Scarlett. And yes, all of those names have meaning to your crazy old Uncle P.

Hope your life is as full of fun and surprises as mine has been, of late. 

More, anon.

Uncle P

PS - Did I happen to mention that I have fallen madly, deeply and hopelessly in love with J? Because I have. And amazingly, so has he with me. Life is good.

Uncle P and the Mystery of the Creepy Peeps

Among my friends there are two distinct camps when it comes to this story: those who, like myself, find it hilarious and fun and those, like my BIL, who think Uncle P is being stalked by a serial killer. I'll let you decide.

Last November, just about a month after my mother passed away, I came home to find an Apple box stuffed in my mailbox. When I pulled out the tissue paper and ribbons, I found the nightlight you see to your right. And yes, the bulb inside is red. There was no card or note. Nothing on the box but the Apple logo. When I posted it to Facebook, the two camps immediately made themselves apparent. Of course, my friends and regular readers know my taste for the odd (indeed, the macabre) and unusual. And they also know I tend to have a rather dark sense of humor. I thought it was hilarious and plugged it into a kitchen outlet (it gets too hot for practical use, but is fun to switch on when I have guests). In the months that followed, people would occasionally ask me if I ever found out who sent it, but I almost forgot about. Until...

Just around my birthday this year, I came home and opened my screen door and a box tumbled out onto the mat.  Inside was not only the green planter below, but a note!

"Dear Brian,

"The psychic creepy doll network has determined you and your red eyed nightlight needed a friend.

"Therefore please welcome this new addition to your home. We trust you will admire and enjoy it.

"With much love, a shared sense of humor and best wishes,

"Your mystery/anonymous creepy peeps."

The box was a sturdy gift box from the Frenchtown Metalworks, an art jeweler in New Jersey. 

How exciting! Contact had been made! But how much was to be believed? Is this the work of more than one person? Do they live in or near Frenchtown? He, she or they obviously know where I live and when they can deliver packages when I'm not home. More friends freak out. I laugh and hope that all will be revealed, eventually. Speculation continues.  

Next - right before Halloween, I came home to find a bag on my kitchen table. My boarder had brought it in (whew!) after finding it hanging on the doorknob, outside. In the bag was a square box, also from Frenchtown Metalworks. It had a black ribbon and written on it in orange and black markers was "Happy Halloween!" And in the box was the delightfully odd electric tealight holder you see below.

Cozy, isn't she? The yellow flickering eyes in the very pink head are far more effective than the red bulb in the nightlight, don;t you think? No note this time but I didn't need one.

Most recently, I came home from picking up my Christmas Eve dinner from Wing Wah, to find a USPS Priority Mail package sitting in my carport. My sister's package had already arrived, as well as a package from friends who couldn't wait to see me to give me my gift. I looked for the sender only to see "Santa" with no return address. I knew immediately who it was from.

I ate my dinner, opened the rest of my mail and then set to the package. Inside was a letter and the most elaborate dolly of all. Wrapped in a blankie and painted yellow all over; her hair cut off and phrases, slogans and bits of poetry written all over her, she is quite magnificent! 

The letter reads: 

"ho ho ho Brian!

   "I fear you've not been naughty enough this year so was tempted to not deliver this wee child to you for the holidays.

   "Alas your creepy peeps network has informed me that exists (sic) in you a certain scorn for the Christmas merriment... the stories behind the story as it were.

"That has set you in my good graces and so I bestow upon you your very own baby - one of poetry for your reading pleasure as you sit by the fire.

   "So master yourself an icy cold martini, sit back and enjoy the season.

"All my best,

" Santa, the creepy one

"PS... my supply of treats for you has run low... but I have my sources and so perhaps we shall continue this adventure into yet another year"

The font colors are theirs. So they also know that I am an atheist and enjoy an icy cold Sapphire martini now and again. The plot thickens. Or does it? Loads of folks know that. The doll itself, is fascinating. She reminds me of something out of a Clive Barker movie.

On her face is: LETS DO EMPTY OUR POCKETS AND DISAPPEAR * MISSING ALL OUR APPOINTMENTS AND TURN ING UP YEARS LATER UNSHAVEN OLD CIGARETTE PAPERS STUCK TO OUR PANTS LEAVES IN *** OUR HAIR Her torso reads: LET US NOT WORRY ABOUT THE PAYMENTS ANYMORE LET THEM COME ND TAKE IT AWAY WHATEVER IT WAS WE WERE PAYING AND US WITH IT  On her left arm and side: I AM A SOCIAL CLIMBER CLIMBING DOWNWARD AND THE DESCENT IS DIFFICULT  On her right arm: THE UPPER MIDDLE CLASS IDEAL IS FOR THE BIRDS AND THE BIRDS HAVE NO USE FOR IT

On her left leg: LETS CUT IT OUT LETS GO TO THE REAL INTERIOR OF THE COUNTRY WHERE HOCKSHOPS REIGN MERE UNBLIND ANARCHY UPON US THE END IS NEAR BUT GOLF GOES ON. On her right leg: LET US ARISE AND GO NOW TO WHERE DOGS DO IT OVER THE HILL * WHERE THEY KEEP THE EARTHQUAKES BEHIND CITY DUMPS LOST AMONG GAS MAINS AND GARBAGE. On top of her head: JUNKMAN'S OBBLIGATO On the back of her head: LAWRENCE FERLING HETTI (the artist, perhaps?) MY BODY IS HUNG UP TOO LONG IN THE STRANGE SUSPENDERS GET ME A BRIGHT BANDANA FOR A OCKSTRAP (sic) On her back: LET US NOW YOU AND I LEAVING OUR NECKTIES BEHIND ON LAMPOSTS (sic) TAKE UP THE FULL BEARD OF WALKING ANARCHY LOOKING LIKE WALT WHITMAN A HOME MADE BOMB IN THE POCKET I WISH TO OESCEN (?) IN THE SOCIA (?) IS LOW On the back of her right arm: LOSE THE WAR WITHOUT KILLING ANYONE

So, Uncle P's question for you... Would you be freaked out, or just as amazed and amused as I am? That a friend or friends would go this far and long without cracking is just awesome. I know there will be a grand reveal, eventually and I will be face-palming myself for not figuring it out. Until them, I very much love this game!

More, anon.
Uncle P

Someone Knows and Loves Me

Oh, Baby!

So... I came home from the Day Job today, glad that tomorrow will be both Friday and Payday. I got out of my car and went to my mailbox (as I do every day) to find a catalog (the corner of which cane be seen in the upper right of the photo) and a rather strange box. Inside the box, wrapped in cellophane and surrounded by red tissue paper, I found an Eyeless Baby Doll's Head. 

I must admit, I was a little freaked out, at first. "What the hell...?" I thought. "Is someone targeting me?"

Then I saw the silver ribbons and the nightlight attached to said Eyeless Baby Doll's Head and started to laugh. 

Sometime in the last few weeks, I had posted a photo of a lamp made from a ceramic doll head on Facebook. It was creepy and funny and I loved it. I quickly realized the Eyeless Baby Doll's Head nightlight was a gift from someone who knew me well and lived nearby, even though there was no card or note included. I immediately posted the picture on your left to Facebook, noting that it had arrived quite unexpectedly and thanking whomever had sent it to me. While I have an idea as to who gave me this delightfully macabre gift, I can't be sure until the giver fesses up. 

The best part? The bulb inside is red! Plugging it in revealed a ghoulishly hilarious night light that I hope will both delight and creep-out the friends who see it. 

Thank you, anonymous Eyeless Baby Doll's Head nightlight giver! I truly love and appreciate this gift, more than you can imagine. A scare, a laugh and the the knowledge that someone cares enough to entertain me in such a way was a huge spirit lifter (albeit a slightly macabre one). My friends never cease to amaze me.

More, anon.

Prospero

Oscar Bait or Tragic Mistake?

Cameron Diaz and Still Creepy Penelope Cruz in The Counselor

Director Ridley Scott has made some of Turn of the Century's best films, including Alien; Blade Runner; Thelma and Louise and Gladiator. His most recent 'non-prequel' (which was totally a prequel) to Alien, Prometheus, had some issues, but was entertaining as hell (yes, Charlize should have run off to the side - we get it).  

Scott's latest thriller The Counselor - about a lawyer (Michael Fassbender) involved with some rather unsavory drug dealers - is currently listed as 'In Post-Production' on IMDb, with a scheduled release date of October 25th. Fassbender co-stars with Javier Bardem, Brad Pitt, Penelope Cruz (it's like she has a puppet mouth, or something... she just skeves me out... ugh!... )* and Cameron Diaz in a role some people are already supposedly whispering rumors that she just may give the performance of her career, which could lead to the possibility of an Academy Award... (Yes, I am fully aware that this is a dreadful run-on sentence with a superfluous parenthetical, thank you very much fellow Grammar Nazis).

Really? The girl from The Mask and There's Something About Mary? The foul-mouthed, pot-smoking, money-scamming Bad Teacher (a movie I only just saw - and sort-of enjoyed - on cable one night in Chicago last month). I saw a teaser for this movie when Dear D and I went to see The Conjuring last month and Diaz was in it, but had nothing to really say. A new trailer has surfaced (via) and we see quite a bit more of her character and I must admit, I am intrigued. With a script from novelist Cormac McCarthy (The Road; No Country for Old Men), The Counselor has all the pedigrees and earmarks that catch the Academy members' attentions. What do you think?

Let the campaigning begin!

More, anon.

Prospero

*Don't start with me. Just because I'm gay does NOT meant I don't know how to appreciate a beautiful woman when I see one. I also know that I am in the minority when it comes to my opinion of Ms Cruz's physiognomy. It's all well and good until she opens that slash in her jaw... Seriously. It's like female Spanish Guy Smiley in the flesh! Bllllllllllluuuuurrrrrrrggggggggghhhhhh!

Karen Black; Mean Pranks; Death and Other Jokes

Karen Black in House of 1000 Corpses

Veteran genre actor Karen Black has passed away at 74 after a long battle with cancer and that makes Uncle P very sad. Ms. Black's career spanned 6 decades and included films such as Easy Rider;  Five Easy Pieces; Airport 75 and The Day of the Locust. But she's probably better known for her genre films which include The Pyx (1973); Burnt Offerings (1976); Invaders from Mars (1986) and House of 1000 Corpses (2003). 

Among those of us who grew up in the era of disco and only one HBO channel, Karen Black is best remembered for an ABC TV Movie of The Week called Trilogy of Terror. As I am sure you've figured out, it was an anthology of three scary stories. No one I know (including myself) remembers anything about the first two stories. Because it was the third story that freaked out everyone who saw it. It was the third story that all my friends were talking about the next Monday at school. And it was the third story that made my sister almost lose her mind (a lot more on that in a bit...). 

As of this writing, she has three films yet to be released. Black, with her wonky eye and unconventional beauty, came to stardom during the Indie Film Renaissance of the 70's (sometimes referred to as the "Second Golden Age') and managed to maintain a very interesting and viable career long after many of her contemporaries didn't. Karen Black was truly One-of-a-Kind.

And so I don't leave on quite a dark note, I'll segue into two real-life events, memories of which were triggered by the news about Ms Black.

My Dad, despite his many faults, was pretty funny and I'm not ashamed to admit that a big part of my sense of humor is directly related to his. He knew a million jokes and he told them well. He often used fairly accurate accents when telling them, which led to my ear for it (which has proven very useful both on and off stage). He loved nonsense and dark humor, and took great joy in pranking my sister and mother. Here are two examples:

When my sister was very young, she would get scared and sneak into my parents' room in the middle of the night. When they started locking their door, she took to coming up into my room, which was basically a loft with no door. I woke up many mornings to find her in my bed.  Trilogy of Terror originally aired on a Friday night. I don't need to tell what Sis did. That Saturday morning, our father got up and started to make breakfast. She heard him rattling around and called out -- "Hello?" Dad snuck out to the living room and made sounds like the Zuni Doll in that clip. Needless to say, Sis crawled back into bed and didn't move or make a sound until I woke up, some time later. Poor kid!

Which led me to this memory of a Halloween in the mid-to late 70's. Trick or Treating was pretty much over for Uncle P for good, but I still went out with Sis and we had some fun times. Of course, in those days we were out for hours (especially on weekends) and would fill pillowcases two or three times. It was safe and there were hundreds of kids and parents out. This particular night, Dad hid a monster mask in the bathroom. I was upstairs, Sis was in her room and Mom was in the kitchen, which is where kids knocked for candy in almost every house in our area, about to go to bed. Dad snuck into the bathroom and put on the mask and a trenchcoat (and nothing else). He snuck out the front door, crept around to the kitchen door and knocked.

Poor Mom, thinking it was last-minute Trick-or-Treater, opened the door. Dad yelled "Trick 'r Treat!" and flashed her, thinking she would recognize him and laugh. Instead, Mom screamed for Dad and slammed the door! Sis and I both came running, only to hear Dad braying like a hyena outside while Mom came to the realization of what had just happened.

Is it any wonder I am the way I am?

Here are some trailers for my favorite Karen Black Horror movies:

More, anon.

Prospero

Beware the Stare of Mary Shaw

The Only Thing Creepier Than a Clown

After the success of Saw, writer Leigh Whannell and director James Wan collaborated on a very different movie, the underrated 2007 ghost story, Dead Silence.

"True Blood" star Ryan Kwanten plays Jamie Ashton, whose wife Ella ("Revenge" alum and Mia Farrow  look-alike Amber Ashton) receives a strange package one day, containing a ventriloquist dummy named Billy. While Jamie is out getting Chinese food, Ella is murdered by the doll and Jamie returns to his hometown of Ravens Fair, famous for a theatre which featured a ventriloquist named Mary Shaw, who was murdered and supposedly buried with all her dummies. Jamie pays a visit to his estranged father Edward ("24" alum Bob Gunton) who is remarried to a hot young blonde named Lisa (They star Laura Regan). Edward offers little comfort and even less explanation for Ella's murder. Meanwhile, police Detective Lipton (Donnie Wahlberg) has followed Jamie, convinced he is responsible for his wife's death.

As Jamie digs deeper into the mystery of Mary Shaw, more and more people turn up dead with their tongues missing. It seems that Jamie's great-uncle called Mary out as a fraud in the 1940's, claiming he saw her lips move. After she showed him up, the boy went missing and was later found murdered with his tongue cut out. The town blamed Mary and killed her, cutting her tongue out, as well. Jamie eventually visits the old theatre where he finds Mary's workshop and a book with the plans to build a perfect puppet. Eventually Jamie and Lipton realize that Mary is possessing her puppets in her efforts to take revenge on the family that caused her to be murdered, and attempt to destroy them. Thinking the nightmare is over (SPOILER ALERT) Jamie returns to his father's house only to discover that Lisa is actually Mary's ghost and that his father has long ago been turned into a corpse puppet and that Mary had planned the whole thing to get to Jamie, the last surviving member of the Ashton family.

While Dead Silence (originally called just Silence) has loads of atmosphere and plenty of creepy visuals, Whannell's overly-complicated plot turned off most critics and audiences, who found the movie confusing. I've seen Dead Silence several times and always enjoy it, often spotting new Easter Eggs every time (one of Mary's dolls is the tricycle-riding puppet - also named "Billy" - from the Saw movies, while another is the famous Charlie McCarthy). It also features one of Whannell's unforeseeable twist endings (he's much better at that Shyamalan ever was) which I just spoiled, above. Of course, Whannell and Wan hit pay-dirt again with 2010's Insidious, yet another ghost movie I'll be covering later this month. If you're looking for atmospheric creepiness in a ghost story, you can't go wrong with Dead Silence. If you've never seen it, give it a chance. If you have and dismissed it, take another look. 

And if you want an even creepier ventriloquism movie, check out 1978's Magic, starring a young Anthony Hopkins and Ann-Margret. While it's not a ghost story, it is plenty creepy!



More, anon.
Prospero

The Most Homophobic Troll You'll See This Week

Homophobic troll Kevin McCullough

OK - I finally have time to complete this post.

GLAAD recently released their Commentator Accountability Project, a list of right-wing, anti-gay people who show up regularly on MSNBC and other news outlets as so-called "experts" for the Right. Just about every one of these people promulgate lies and use junk science to make their points. They are never labeled 'homophobic,' nor are they called out for being religious fanatics who are part of organizations which have been labeled as Hate Groups by the Southern Poverty Law Center. Among those on GLAAD's list are NOM founder Maggie Gallagher; right-wing preacher Bob Vander Plaats; "Porno" Pete LaBarbera; AFA Founder Don Wildmon; FRC Senior Felllow Peter Sprigg and AFA radio host Kevin McCullough (pictured above). These people regularly espouse their twisted "Christian" views as reasons why LGBTQ people should be denied basic human rights (much like the majority of  candidates currently seeking the GOP nomination for President). 

McCullogh, like many on GLAAD's list, is unhappy about being included and recently took to the airwaves to talk about it. Among his many odious comments were "I don't believe that you can be gay;" "...gay couples both despise marriage and want to destroy it" and "They (gay people) don't like the fact that men and women complete each other." You can watch his entire rant (if you can stomach it) in the clip below (via):

Honestly, I'd be afraid of the 'woman' that completes this balding, bug-eyed, jug-eared troll. Hardly a 10 myself, I'm not usually one to talk about someone's looks but you have to admit, the man probably isn't getting any from any woman who can see. And he's definitely not getting any in a tea-room, backroom or dark alley from any discerning gay man. No wonder he's such a pent-up a**hole. Still, I'm willing to give him the benefit of doubt and blame his misguided perception on the decidedly un-Christian preachings of those who use selected portions of the Old Testament to justify their own ignorance and fear. 

And that's what homophobia boils down to: Fear. A topic I recently blogged about in my post Why Do We Hate?, fear is the driving force behind most of the evil mankind has committed against one another in all of recorded history. 

How do we fix it? I'm not sure. Most of the younger generation seems to get it. They've grown up in a more accepting and less-fearful age, where many of their friends are gay or trans. They know that one's sexuality doesn't totally define who or what one is. I say "most" because there are still some young folks who are being raised to hate by the same kind of misguided religious fundies like McCullough; Smith; Brown; Wildmon and Vander Plaats. And don't even get me started on complete lunatics like the Westboro Baptists. 

Someday, probably after you and I are long gone, people will realize that different doesn't equal evil and we are the result of the same genetic line. It won't matter if we're White, Black, Asian, Straight or Gay. Everyone will simply be 'Human.' Of course, we could just all stay on the path of ignorance and destroy the human race, altogether. I'm glad I won't be around to see that.

More, anon.
Prospero

Spider-Creep

Ugh! In what is probably the single most unnecessary re-boot in Hollywood history, aggressively unattractive Brit twink Andrew Garfield is starring in The Amazing Spider-Man, due in theaters next July. Really?

My only question is: Why? Sam Raimi's Spider-Man trilogy may not be perfect (okay, Spider-Man 3 was just this side of awful - but Spider-Man 2 remains one of the five* best super-hero movies ever made), but the franchise is less than 10 years old. Are there really that many Marvel fans out there clamoring for yet another Spider-Man origin story? I think not.

And while I may find the casting of Garfield reprehensible, even worse is Sally Field as Aunt May. For my money, Rosemary Harris is the quintessential Aunt May. Ms Field, while a fine actress, is just too... Gidgety (Yes, I said it). And no J. Jonah Jameson? What the...? The whole thing stinks to high heaven.

Director Marc Webb (insert ironic name here) may have scored with the hipster RomCom (500) Days of Summer (a movie I actually enjoyed), but he hardly seems qualified to helm a film about such an iconic character. And while Raimi's films addressed the cheesy humor found in the Marvel comics of the 60's and 70's, the teaser trailer for Webb's version seems all sturm und drang, concentrating on how hard it is to be a teenager (ala Twilight - another creep; double ugh!) rather than how fun it it is to be a superhero. Check it out below and tell me what you think:

I hope I'm proven wrong. Tim Burton proved us all wrong when he cast Michael Keaton as Batman; Neil Jordan proved us wrong when he cast Tom Cruise as Lestat and Martin Campbell proved us all wrong when he cast Daniel Craig as James Bond. Still, I can't help but think casting Garfield as Spider-Man is tantamount to casting Halle Berry as Catwoman. 

Either way, I'll be saving my July 2012 movie money for Christopher Nolan's final Batman film, The Dark Knight Rises.

 *The Top 5 in My Order:

5. Ironman

4. Superman; The Movie

3. Spider-Man 2

2. Batman Begins

1. The Dark Knight

More, anon.

Prospero

Creepy Face Is Creepy

Our old friend Pareidolia is back, with a twisted vengeance. To many people, bugs are creepy enough as it is (though I only really have a problem with houseflies, because they eat feces). Add a creepy, one-eyed, mustachioed cowboy hidden in the folds of their insectoid anatomy, and many folks just lose their sh*t. Like my poor sister did. "I won't sleep for a week," she emailed me in response to my sending her this picture.

The folks at Icanhascheezburger (LOLCats) have an entire blog devoted to this topic, called Happy Chair is Happy. Of course, most of the images there are of inanimate objects, which most rational adults can look at with humor and move on. But when an image such as the one above belongs to a living thing, people tend to freak out a little. Of course, the freak-outs tend to be a little more extreme when the images are perceived to be of a religious or "holy" nature.

I love that so many people can be fooled by these images. We are conditioned from birth to recognize certain things, especially our own mothers' faces. Is it really surprising we should continue to do so throughout the rest of our lives? But knowing the difference between reality and coincidence is what separates the fools from the rationalists. Am I saying that there is a difference between the guy who sees Jesus on a toasted English muffin and the guy who admits that the random pattern of toaster marks might resemble the face of Jesus (as if anyone who didn't live 2011 years ago in Jerusalem would know the difference, anyway)? Yes. Yes, I am.

And while it may be fun and exciting to see Mother Teresa's face in the folds of a cinnamon bun, it's no more important (or miraculous) than recognizing Godzilla in a cloud off the coast of New England or a cowboy on the shoulder of a grasshopper.

More, anon.

Prospero

Enough With the Creepy Talking Babies, Already

Considering all the Horror/Sci-Fi/Fantasy movies and shows I watch, you would think that very little would scare, unnerve or creep me out. And you'd be right. But there is one thing that disturbs me more than you can imagine - talking babies. I'm not not talking about babies and their first words. "Dada" and "Mama" are hardly scary and can be downright adorable under the right conditions.

No, I'm talking about CGI manipulated images of babies dubbed with adult voices, as seen in TD Ameritrade's commercials of late. Honestly, little else can make my skin crawl like those commercials. Except perhaps the 2002 CBS sitcom "Baby Bob," which starred Adam Arkin and Joely Fisher as the parents of a particularly precocious talking infant. The show also starred the underrated Holland Taylor (now stuck on the obscenely awful and inexplicably popular "Two and a Half Men") and former Mr. Barbra Streisand, Elliott Gould. Apparently, the show was so creepy, I couldn't find any clips of it, anywhere. According to Wikipedia, the character of Baby Bob originated in commercials for the now-defunct Freeinternet.com and after the show's run, reappeared in a series of commercials for the Quiznos sandwich chain:

Okay, I don't know what's creepier in that clip - the talking baby or the sexualization of an infant. Of course, the sexualization of young children always disturbs me. Especially in this context:

Dear God, why is a four year-old being referred to as "...a seasoned professional?" You might as well call her a "whore." The whole concept of child beauty pageants disgusts me. I recently got into a rather heated debate with an old friend about this very subject. Apparently, she had put her daughter through the pageant experience and found it to be positive and uplifting for the girl, who has (according to my friend) since gone on to well-adjusted life. I'm still dubious. Is it any wonder that some creep found JonBenet Ramsey such a turn-on that he had to kill her?* Growing up in the 60's and 70's, there were no children's pageants (or at least, none of which I was aware). Now, they are everywhere. And it saddens me that parents would subject their kids to wearing makeup, hairpieces, false teeth and suggestive costumes in order to win money and scholarships.

I firmly believe that children should be allowed to be children, and not be subject to their parents' fantasies or vicarious hopes.

Now that I have veered slightly off-topic, let's get back to Creepy Talking Babies, shall we?

Still... the sexualization of children continues to pervade the airwaves, especially in Ameritrade's (E*Trade) most recent Superbowl commercial in which the hip, talking baby not only has a girlfriend, but a piece on the side, as well:

It's almost like the Talking Tina episode of "The Twilight Zone":

Or even worse, this commercial for a real talking doll, Mattel's 'Baby Secret':

"I want to tell you a secret... you must kill Mommy and Daddy!"

Seriously, is it just me? Or have we all become so numb to advertising that we allow this kind of crap to go on? Did we learn nothing from "The Bad Seed;" "The Village of the Damned" "Children of the Corn" or "The Children?" More importantly have we learned nothing about the early-sexualization of children since the JonBenet Ramsey murder? That any parent can allow his or her child to subjected to this kind of judgment at such an early age, only manages to reinforce the stereotypes of beauty that Hollywood and Madison Avenue have foisted upon us for more than a hundred years. Should we be surprised that anorexia and bulimia are so prevalent among young girls? And should we be surprised that images of children in adult makeup and costumes encourage pedophiles to act on their deviant impulses? Okay - I'm all for attractive young adults showing off their bodies, but we need to draw the line somewhere.

Be afraid. Be very afraid.

More, anon.
Prospero

*While there is no evidence to support the theory that JonBenet was killed by a pedophile, there is little doubt in my mind that such pageants encourage deviant behaviors among those already inclined toward such activity.

The Creepiest Things You'll See This Week

Oh, dear. Some one left their Baby Jane Hudson doll at the malt shop. At least I hope that's what happened. Or if not, then I hope the woman in this photo does not have Internet access, because if you Google the word "creepy," hers is one of the first images to come up. What may be even worse, she actually reminds your Uncle Prospero of a woman at his day job (I'll leave it to my co-workers who read this blog to figure who it is, though I am sure they instantly made the connection). Not that I'm being mean here. The woman is actually creepy - crass, tacky and lacking any real social skills (or vocal volume control), the co-worker in question has never once looked me in the eye, no matter how many times I have smiled at her or tried to be friendly.

Still, that photo is only one of three very creepy things I have to share with you, tonight.

The second (via) is a rather controversial video from a New Yorker who noticed that food had begun to disappear from his apartment. After confronting his girlfriend (who denied eating the food) about it, he decided to put a surveillance camera in his kitchen:

From the comments on BoingBoing, a lot of folks think this video is a fake, mostly because the woman leaves her water jug behind when she crawls back into her hidey-hole. I'm not so sure it is a fake. First, it is New York City. There are plenty of loonies in the Big Apple who are more than capable of doing such a thing. Second, she's almost caught when the guy gets up for a drink in the middle of the night. That could be enough to rattle her into leaving the jug behind. And third, even if you are desperate for attention on the Interwebs, why would you go to such lengths to fake such a thing? There are plenty of other ways to get noticed on line. I haven't gone so far as to research the NYPD logs for documentation of this incident, but I think it's the real deal.

Finally, in the Creepy Anthropomorphic Robots category of creepiness (also via), comes this video of a robot dance competition in Tokyo last month. Way creepier than that Lou Bega robot* from last year:

I don't know if it's the plaid schoolgirl uniform or the expressionless, Anime-style face... but it's sure creepy, alright.

Uncle P has loads of fun stuff planned for the Zombie Zone tomorrow, so don't forget to check it out. Hope to see you here on Sunday...

*Is it me, or does that video remind you of Ray Harryhausen's giant crab from Mysterious Island?

More, anon.
Prospero

The Fall of Western Civilization

I, for one, despise so-called "Reality TV." There are several reasons for this. First, as a writer myself, I hate that it puts creative TV writers out of work. Second, it is probably the most misnamed TV genre, ever. There is nothing real about "Reality TV." Producers manipulate the participants and edit footage for the sake of ratings. No matter that an actually nice person may be made into a villain or a horrible person is depicted as good. As long as the ratings are there; as long as the vultures are watching to pick over the remains; as long as the audience gets to scream "Yay!" or "Nay!" We may as well be feeding Christians to the lions. Third and finally, it allows shallow (and often exceptionally stupid people) a shot at fame - or infamy. Does anyone really remember who won on the first season of "The Apprentice?" I don't. All I remember is the vile Amorosa; a petty, shallow and all-around repulsive woman who stooped to the lowest common denominator so she would be remembered. She then went on to appear on several other "Reality" shows, further cementing her hold on infamy. I ask you, do you really want to be remembered for being a villain? Personally, I'd much rather be remembered for the things I did to further the human race.

All of this because of the clip below (via). It shows what recently happened in NYC, as people lined up for their shot at being a contestant on "America's Next Top Model," the shallowest of these types of shows. Apparently, a car overheated outside the building where auditions were being held, and some one yelled "Bomb!" Needless to say, pandemonium broke lose:

Even worse, are the fights that break out among contestants on the shows. The stakes are apparently so high (usually only 5 minutes of fame - far less than Andy Warhol predicted), people will turn on each other over the pettiest of reasons:

I blame MTV for the trend. As innovative as they were in the early 80's, MTV decided that showing music videos wasn't enough to keep their ratings afloat and less than 10 years later created a show called "The Real World." And while old-time shows like "Queen for a Day;" "Truth or Consequences" and "Candid Camera" made seminal stars out of real people, "The Real World" took the concept and exploited it beyond anything we'd ever seen before.

My sister, whom I love dearly, is addicted to "Survivor." My friends Janet and Dale watch "Project Runway," while my friend Kathy and her family watch the insufferable "American Idol." To me, it all seems to boil down to what the Germans call "Schadenfreude:" taking secret pleasure in another person's pain. And it all hearkens back to the Romans watching wild animals kill innocents in the Coliseum or the Elizabethans betting on bear-baiting. And I have to ask myself (and fans of the genre), why have we not progressed beyond such disgusting behavior in the last 1800 years?

I honestly cannot wait for the day when this trend dies the undignified death it deserves, though I hope that it doesn't take an on-camera murder to do so (though I fear that may be what it takes). Until such a time, I'll do my best to rail against it, and refuse to watch it. And I urge you to do so, as well.

More, anon.

Prospero

Happy Halloween!

Had to get this one in before midnight, while it was still Halloween.

I had a lot of kids at my house tonight, which was great. There were some surprisingly good costumes. Thankfully, there was not a Joker, Batman or Amy Winehouse among them. One young lady wore a pretty dress and heavy makeup. "What are you?" I asked. "A wind-up doll," she cheerfully offered, turning around so I could see the big metallic key in her back. Another group came dressed as the horror-themed video game "Silent Hill," complete with a faceless nurse and a kid with a giant, black pyramidal head. There were quite a few costumes that I don't think were specifically anything; just whatever the kids could throw together to look like something weird. I did have a Philly, though I thought I'd have more (the small suburban train station I pass on my way to work each morning was over-run with red-shirted fans headed for the parade - you couldn't have paid me to go). A few folks at work dressed up. Two of my immediate co-workers wore headgear: Mama K wore bunny ears and Ms Golden Child wore a princess tiara. As much as I love the holiday, It's become almost as bad as Christmas. Anyway - here are two quick videos that sum up my Halloween 2008 (both via BoingBoing)

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I'll bet if we could understand him, this kid would be saying: "Dad! I said 'a robot,' not a fifty pound death-trap that doesn't even let me hold my own damn candy bag!"

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And this is probably the creepiest thing I've seen in weeks. I give you: "Mambo Number 5 by Robot-Spider Lou Bega." Eeeek!

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Happy Hauntings!

Prospero