On Laura’s recommendation, I watched The Muppet Show revival with my dad. It was an interesting mix of jokes that hit with me (mayo upon sandwich), and everything having a millennial aftertaste. I’d need to do a more direct comparison to quantify that. I’m tempted to say there was too much metahumor, and too many badum-chhhhhs in the form of quirky looks to camera or joss whedon style quips. I don’t know if that’s quite right, because the muppets have always traded in 4th wall breaks. Statler and Waldorf were particularly disappointing, though. A disparaging comment does not inherently deserve a laugh. It needs to be clever and specific. Overall, I would give the show like a…B+? It’s competing with other muppet movies, so that A range is tough to reach.
More importantly, it’s filling an underserved niche. Not “kids shows”, but “family shows”, ones that parents and kids can equally enjoy. For my dad, it was Rocky and Bullwinkle. For me it was…well it was either corny scifi or britcom classics. Sometimes it was both. Red Dwarf, old Doctor Who, Black Adder, Faulty Towers, etc etc. We laughed and joked about it together, and having all those shared references made the bond between me and my dad so much stronger. (It may have alienated many of my peers, though…). A nostalgic IP like The Muppets is perfect family fare, especially since it seems to have retained some of Jim Hensen’s spirit, while matrix dodging whatever rot has consumed Disney.
That spirit matters now more than ever. The Bad Bunny halftime performance gave me a rare moment of optimism. What an ironic name – “Turning Point USA”. It reminds me of Yoda saying that Anakin will bring balance to the force, at a time where light was dominant. For us, it’s the opposite. This “turning point” may not be the one they expect. Look at those two halftime shows through the lens of a 10 year old, a 15 year old, a 20 year old. Which party do you want to be at? The TP one made the conservative movement look so decrepit, out of touch, jingoistic, stilted, and just….boring! Bad Bunny felt like the voice of a generation, unflinching in his message – “The only thing more powerful than hate is love”
And what is the cope? The NFL is woke and liberal? No one outside their echo chamber will believe that. The halftime show, as an institution, is a reflection of the majority culture. This is important not just for kids to see, but also other countries. We need to make it clear, we are being held hostage by a fascist oligarchy. They have their hand up the ass of a rotting corpse, puppetiering that symbol of unapologetic bigotry. They are the evil few. They have deftly snatched power and exploited fear, but the tide is turning. The lies cannot sustain, AI hasn’t swallowed us yet. The villains in this story are old, and perhaps fatally, uncool.
If you are an artist, keep making cool art. Art matters. It isn’t optional. I also need to remind myself – don’t let the perfect be the enemy of good. I see myself metaphorically sharpening and sharpening and sharpening my sword. “Boy howdy, when I get out there, I’m gunna do some real damage! I just need to…buff out a few more flaws…”
There was a local comic artist I found recently, who made me face the mirror. He has a full schedule of events he hosts and attends – for charities, for kids, for community. When I look at his artwork, it isn’t technically sophisticated. But…he’s actually DOing stuff. Not that my art always needs to be of service to others, but like a sword, it is inherently designed to impact others. At some point, the sword is sharp enough. At some point, you need to go into the dungeon. And anyway, the best equipment is always locked behind group content. The loot drop from the boss will give you a weapon that your little starter sword could never match, no matter how many hours you sit at the grindstone.
I mentioned Sillywhim in my most recent video about Neon Vortex and Baxter Whittenburg. The title of the movie she’s from is “We Sing in Sillyville”, and like seemingly everything from my childhood, it’s on youtube. It’s certainly…not for adults! It’s also quite dated, though that is more a boon at this point. I only half-remembered the plot, but I was shocked at how note for note (pun intended) the message of the movie was with my metaphor of white light through a prism. Bonus, I had just re-evoked that metaphor a few days ago in my car rant, so it was fresh in my mind.
In Sillyville, different groups of people and creatures are associated with a specific color. When the y/n characters are isekai-ed to Sillyville through their coloring book, the manic pixie dream-girl in clown pajamas named Sillywhim explains her predicament. All the colors have stopped talking to one another! ”One day, a Swirlygirgle said, ‘You know, I don’t like the color red very much! It’s too garish.’ And The Bitty Booties replied, ‘Well, I don’t much fancy green. It makes me queasy to look at!’ Suddenly, each color was keeping to themselves. That’s when my colors began to fade and…oh, kids, you’ve gotta help us. We’ve forgotten how to harmonize!”
Time for a breezy 40 minutes of filler, while this blessedly charming children’s entertainer escorts the kids through a whimsical soundstage. After they have met each color group, and sang about 47 songs (yes…more songs than minutes…or so it felt), they circle back to the town square. But then– Oh no, Sillywhim sprained her ankle! The whole village rushes out. Not Sillywhim! We have to help her! The witch/mom-coded purple lady comes to the front, and wraps her foot with her shawl. With a knowing smile, she says she will need “everyone’s help”. Soon Sillywhim’s leg is wrapped in a rainbow. “What beautiful colors! And hey…look at us, we look mighty good ourselves!”
I remember watching this vhs over and over. Sillywhim was just so…cool! She was everything I wanted to be – magical, happy, kind, funny, silly. And the whole town loved her! (that part…needs some unpacking. It’s a work in progress). What stuck with me, though, was not just the character. It was the message. It lodged itself even deeper than this Bing Bong the Pink Elephant of my childhood. Our differences make us greater than the sum of our parts, harmony over purity.
It hit me in the chest – the execution of this movie is not perfect, or even “great” from an adult lens. It’s good, and good enough. It’s low budget, but there’s care. It was creative. All the actors seemed to be having a blast, and the vibe is relaxed and upbeat. It didn’t need to be a masterpiece to be meaningful.
That word “meaningful” is important. It’s not about quality, per say. Mr. Beast puts a lot of “care” into his videos, and he would probably tell you he is obsessive and neurotic about them being “perfect.” But it’s ego and profit driven. No amount of time or money would make a Mr. Beast video memorable in the same way. That’s not the goal. Unfortunately, If you are not trying to make lasting and sustaining memories with kids, if you care more about farming their attention and dick measuring who’s child fans spend longer glued to their screens, watching you shout about how money is salvation and you have the most to give….you need to face the reality that you are just Elon Musk in a Willy Wonka Suit. You’ll be remembered as such.
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One of my mother’s very few friends passed away some months ago. Her name was Fran. Mom met her in a weight loss group. She was in her 60s, and had gone from over 400lb to less than 300 in just a few years. She did all kinds of arts and crafts, and she was always involved in service work through the church. She never let being in a wheelchair stop her, she never let her many chronic health problems steal more time than necessary. She was my mother’s closest and only real non-family friend these past few years. I chatted with her a handful of times, and her warmth and love always hit like a nuke.
I went to her funeral. I discovered she had found the time to deeply befriend a whole village’s worth of people. The Christian theatrics got me. My face flooded with tears and snot, and my black laced sleeve was no match. I had to run out when I started having some sort of stress induced coughing fit. As I stood heaving over my car, I thought I felt her presence. She laughed and hugged me. She said it meant the world I came. I wish we could have spoken more. Your dress is just gorgeous, it’s a shame for it to get sticky!
You can’t be talking to me right now, you’ve got family and stuff to connect with.
It doesn’t work that way, where I am.
The sentimental part of me was softening the knee-jerk skepticism. Minutes before in the church, while I was sob-singing, my subconscious superimposed a 20 foot tall female angel over the scene in front of me. It was threatening to become a true donnie darko style hallucination. The angel itself wasn’t frightening. The comfort and surrender it made me feel was. I’m maintaining boundaries with my invisible sock puppet friends. Don’t mess with my physical senses.
But I’m not surprised there seemed to be an extra special turn out, even in the metaphysical realm. She was one of the most wonderful people I’ve met. Take that previous sentence, OxiClean away all that gunked on casual hyperbolic use, and read it again. She was full of wonder – curiosity, joy, love.
She was Mormon.
My best personal example of a “good ending” was faithful to a religion that I strongly believe poses an existential threat to American democracy. I’m still gnawing on this tension. Regardless, a secular version of her funeral is one I could only dream of. I don’t want to be buried unceremoniously, with just the grave digger, my sword, and my Guinness World Record certificate for “sharpest weapon to never see battle”.
With that in mind, here’s a few silly updates on my comics, and my curses –
Allow me to petty vent for a moment. This has 4 likes on tumblr. 22 likes on IG. 22 upvotes on Danny’s subreddit. I think I just…have no concept of what people will like. If it wasn’t for Laura, I’d be checking on r/delusionalartists every day for someone to post me and explain what I’m doing so wrong. At least I’ve been so far spared from hate comments. I guess I won’t know ’til those come if it’s worse than the silence.
>>robyns_ramblings 