You look happy to meet me

This weekend’s cartoon is a little late because yesterday morning Benny and I had to drive up to Mount Whitney to pick up a friend’s car. Our friend successfully reached the summit, but broke her ankle on the way down and had to be airlifted off the mountain. While said airlift was less eventful than some recent airlifts, she still wasn’t in any shape to drive.

I wound up having a weird and scary time on the road between Mojave and Lancaster on the way home, when I started hallucinating a sparkly corona in my left eye and losing the middle of my field of vision, but I pulled over to rest for a bit and eventually things came back to normal except for a terrible headache. I blame the weird episode on the dill pickle flavored potato chips I got at the Mojave AM/PM; I swear I met no rum-proffering St. Bernards while on the mountain.


I’m not sure why I never posted this ’20s Mickey Mouse cartoon before. It might have to do with the annoying throwaway Al Jolson blackface joke early on – sometimes I post these cartoons with caveats about ignorance of the time and how we shouldn’t erase history and pretend we weren’t ignorant, and sometimes I’m just too annoyed that these dumb ignorant jokes taint the otherwise lovely cartoon. This one isn’t a mean-spirited joke, and it’s about two seconds long, but I need to point it out.

Other than that, this one is pretty enjoyable if just for the fact that there seems to have been either a time crunch or lesser-skilled animators working on certain segments of the cartoon. Notice the weird solid black in between the ribs. At first I thought “oh, this is how they drew skeletons back then,” but then there is the marimba skeleton who has a more realistic looking ribcage, with no solid black parts. What was happening here? Was this incompetence? Or just a time-saving measure?

The importance of punctuation

This ice cream truck wouldn’t have seemed nearly as sinister to me if there had been exclamation points after Donald’s and Daisy’s utterances.

Yes, Donald would still be waving stacks of cash around, but his deadpan cynical “WELCOME TO HOLLYWOOD” and Daisy’s opium den prisoner “HELLO” response are what chill me to the bone here.

There was actually a more disturbing drawing of Goofy intoning a similar “HELLO” on the back of the van, but that open back door spooked me and I had to get out of there. Welcome to Hollywood.

Absolutely bananas

I’ve been doing a little research on narwhals lately, so when I came across this cartoon I initially thought it was serendipitous. The more I watched the cartoon, however, the more I realized the guy at the beginning was probably a swordfish instead of a narwhal. It’s hard to tell because they didn’t make any swashbuckling gags, but it has to be a swordfish, right? Narwhals do not live near tropical islands. Then again, seals don’t either. Maybe I shouldn’t be looking for native fauna accuracy in a film that features a mouse wearing shorts.


Careless whispers

Today’s cartoon is entitled “The Gorilla Mystery.” The only mystery for me was how there could be a gorilla barely taller than a mouse. Well, that and the mystery of Mickey’s unusual whispering voice. I guess this was a pretty mysterious cartoon after all.

Published in: on September 7, 2014 at 2:31 pm  Leave a Comment  
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Vice mouse

I never knew Mickey Mouse could light a cigarette with his foot. I’ll have to ask him to demonstrate next time I go to Disneyland.

Virtual closet

Have you ever had a dream where you didn’t get to finish it but you feel like the dream was really important? I had that late last week. I’ve had dreams lots of times before where I liked the dream and wanted to stay in it, but this was the first time I had a dream that was very important to complete and I didn’t get to complete it, and I haven’t been able to get back to that dream all week. I was sorting a lot of old photos and mementos, and actually throwing stuff out. It felt good, throwing the stuff out. There was a lot of stuff I didn’t need. But there was so much more stuff to go through. And then I woke up.

I guess I should be happy that I got through some of the stuff, at least. But you know how when you’re cleaning your closet or the garage or the basement, and you have to make even a bigger mess before you can clean it up? Right now I feel like I made the bigger mess and then the door to the room was cemented shut and the whole room was sent to the middle of the earth. I can’t get back to that dream, and I’ve been trying so hard.

Oh, but hey. Here’s a cartoon that reminds me of my childhood in Silicon Valley, back before it was called Silicon Valley. That was a long time ago.

Cartoon via Gizmodo (via Neatorama)

New Year’s Liszt

Also some Bizet. And geez, did a single customer even buy a ticket? They just all barged in there, even Mr. Deflated Pants. Mickey should work on that.

Cartoons and uncomfortable situations

Yesterday was a confusing day. I picked up an odd job via one of those sites you pick up odd jobs from – my job was to pick up someone’s comforter, wash it at a laundromat, and return it – and I got stood up. I showed up where I was supposed to pick up the blanket, buzzed the apartment buzzer, and there was no answer. I texted the client – no answer. Neighbors came in and out of the apartment complex and offered to let me in, but nobody knew who this person was that I was supposed to meet. I stayed outside and texted again. I buzzed the buzzer again. And texted. And buzzed. I got in my car and texted again after fifteen minutes, and then after a half hour. Nothing.

After about an hour, I left and texted the client that I had left. I finally got a text back – “Buzz the buzzer. utdm.” Not knowing what utdm meant (under the door mat? up the down move?) I responded that I had tried buzzing the buzzer several times but had left. Then I got one last text that made no sense. I reported the situation to member services for the site and cancelled the job.

I was a little freaked out as I wasn’t sure if I had just escaped a mugging situation or what, so I parked my car while I calmed down, and noticed that I was in front of my favorite local swap meet store, but all of the store front art was different. The drawings of tricycles and bleach and mittens with eyeballs had been replaced with a mural of cartoon characters. I recognized some of them,

but I wasn’t sure why Tweety Bird was carrying a caveman club,

I didn’t know who this toddler was or why he was drinking a beer,

and the only thing I could guess this guy was supposed to be

was the elusive Number One from The Prisoner. When I came across the Shroud of Turin with a Flamin’ Hot Cheetos bag above it,


I was ready to call it a day.

Now that I’ve had time to reflect on it, I’m thinking that this no-show laundry job was nothing sinister but just the modern equivalent of a prank call, but what kind of lame prank is that? It’s as much a mystery to me as Flamin’ Hot Jesus.


Wiring schematic

I really hate when cartoon characters “evolve” over time into creatures with bulbous heads, small yet chubby bodies and barely discernible personalities. I know I’m supposed to prefer these big-headed characters because they more closely resemble human babies, and I’m supposed to feel some sort of nurturing instinct toward them, but I guess I’m not wired that way. Mickey Mouse? Better as a sadistic anarchist with stick legs. Campbell’s Kids? I’d much rather hang out with the slightly dim German rolypolys rather than the rosy-cheeked extreme sports enthusiasts. Garfield? Well, he was never funny, but in the ’70s he actually resembled a cat. And what about Porky Pig? Can you actually say that his current hydrocephalic incarnation is cuter than the original model? No, no you can’t.

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