Tiny Toon Adventures

With the classics, there's a general sense of "if-it-ain't-broke-don't-fix-it"-ness. While Warner Brothers animation studios had spent many years continually rehashing and re-spinning the adventures of their classic characters, by the 90s the ol' Looney Tunes gang was getting a bit tired. Under the guidance of Steven Spielberg, the studio was at last poised to create some younger, hipper characters.

Not everyone was particularly keen on disrupting the holy gospel of animated TV. Many adult who had grown up with the original characters were less than thrilled by their 90s incarnations. Regardless, Warner Brothers was finally ready to provide 90s children with some well-deserved original animation in the form of Tiny Toon Adventures, a new show that maintained a similar format to the original Looney Tunes program.

In the spirit of the day, classic cartoons (or near-miss versions of them) were getting a bit of an age downgrade with their 90s makeovers. While many of the shows that entertained our parents featured adult-age characters, animators saw fit to bring their 90s counterparts a bit further down to our level. Chronologically speaking, that is. Newer animated exploits like Flintstone Kids and Muppet Babies explored familiar territory and characters but featured younger versions of the characters we knew and loved.



Tiny Toons was somewhat exceptional in that it introduced (gasp!) new characters. I know, I know. I'll give you a minute to digest it. While most of us out here probably aren't real animation fiends, this was pretty big news from our friends at Warner Brothers. Though their original cartoons continued to air in rerun, they sought fit to shift to a new generation of Looney Tunes christened as Tiny Toons.

With some classic cartoon writers on board, Warner Brothers set out to create a junior class of Looney Tunes. Though not necessarily genetically tied to their predecessors, Tiny Toons were a sort of adolescent version of the originals. They were still pulling the same slapstick humor gags as their forebunnies and foreducks, but this time around they were kids. Students, to be precise. At the esteemed Acme Looniversity. Get it? Looniversity? You're laughing already.

They wrapped it all up in a well-animated colorful package and even threw in a catchy theme song to boot. You know, memory is a funny thing. I don't think I could tell you what a periodic table looks like or how to reduce fractions, but I can can flawlessly recall these lyrics without skipping a beat. Then again, I suppose an anvil never fell from the sky during any of my chemistry classes. It would certainly make it more memorable.



The new show didn't fully abandon our original Looney Tunes heroes. Indeed, they had a relatively respected cameo-level role as our young toons' trusty instructors.I suppose that's as literal a metaphor set-up as ever for passing the torch, but it worked. The show paid homage to the original greats without trying to hard to reinstate the Golden Years.

The characters were sort of junior spin-offs of the Looney Tunes, with similar species. Here were some of our new major animated players:


Buster Bunny

A clear take-off of Bugs, Buster is his forebearer's prized pupil at Acme Looniversity. Buster was the everyman (everybunny?) character and usually the leader of the group. Though Buster and Babs both share the last name "Bunny", they constantly remind the audience that there is indeed no relation between the two. Buster was initially voiced by Charlier Adler, who also gave us delightful characters such as Aaah! Real Monsters' Ickis and Ed and Bev Bighead from Rocko's Modern Life. In the words of the rival animation company that shall remain unnamed, it's a small (animated) world after all.

Though a tad more vulnerable than the infallibly cool Bugs, Buster was certainly in the realm of cool cartoon characters. Observe, his guide to goofing off:





Babs Bunny

Babs was always my favorite, not just because she was female but mainly because she was willing to sacrifice herself for a laugh. She was completely over-the-top. Babs also was queen of spot-on impressions, though it's not especially surprising when you find she was voiced by the talented Tress MacNeille. MacNeille voiced Chip of Chip n' Dale, Dot of Animaniacs, Lindsay Nagle of The Simpsons, and tyrannical Mom on Futurama, among countless others.





Hamton J. Pig

A Porky knockoff, Hamton J. was both studious and compulsively neat. Though you'd think him the straight man, the truth was Tiny Toons rarely played it straight. My favorite part was that there was a cute little menorah in the Pigs' house. For non-MOTs* out there, we're talking Jewish bacon. Hilarious. I promise. It is. Just go with it.

Hamton was voiced by Don Messick, and if you think for a second I'm going to get remotely tired of marveling over all these vocal talents then you've got another thing coming. Probably an anvil. Messick was a cartoon voice all-star, boasting credits as Scooby Doo, Papa Smurf, Bamm Bamm, and Boo Boo Bear.




Plucky Duck

Our Daffy lite, Plucky was a scheming little bill-face. He was Hamton's best friend, though he often took advantage of his kinder nature. I was always a big fan of Plucky's tank top. As far as animated clothing choices go, I always found it somewhat humorous. Plucky was voiced by Joe Alaskey, a guy who made a living impersonating the original Looney Tunes in more recent ventures. He did a mean Bugs, Tweety, Yosemite Sam, and most notable, Daffy.





Montana Max

Montana was our classic bully, and among the few humans to popular Acme Acres. A protege of Yosemite Sam, Montana was equally temperamental. His character is incredibly wealthy, making him the big bad rich villain. Montana Max's vocal talent is probably my favorite 90s connection. Montana was voiced by Danny Cooksey, none other than (wait for it) Bobby Budnick on Nickelodeon's Salute Your Shorts.





Elmyra Duff

Elmyra was presumably the female young version of Elmer Fudd, although her intent with animals is slightly off the Fudd path. Elmyra was completely and utterly obsessed with all things fluffy and cute, getting overexcited and unintentionally abusive with each outpouring of unquenchable love. She was famous for saying such frightening things as, "I'm gonna hug you and kiss you and love you forever" right before she nearly hugs the life out of something.

She was generally pretty dim-witted and spoke in baby talk, though she proved to be one of the most enduring Tiny Toons characters with follow-up roles in both Animaniacs and a Pinky and the Brain spin-off. Elmyra was voiced by Cree Summer, who's done a bunch of stuff but who I like to think of mainly as the voice of Suzie on Rugrats. I just love Suzie.




Certainly this doesn't even begin to cover the vast cast of characters that populated Acme Forest, but it's a start. Tiny Toon Adventures ran three full seasons, with a handful of specials thrown in for good measure. The show did however have a long foray into syndication, exposing a range of children throughout the 90s to their animated antics. That's about all, folks. Or in the ever-wise words of Gogo Dodo, it's been surreal! See you next time.



*Members of the tribe

90 TV Musical Episodes

Who doesn't love a good ratings ploy from time to time? Perhaps that's just my 90s-style cynicism talking; I'm sure these producers were only out to express themselves creatively through the art of song. Oh, and to totally sweep in the ratings. Mostly the ratings thing.


Daria: Daria!

Any moderately faithful reader of Children of the 90s knows I'm a huge proponent of the 90s animated sarcast-erpiece Daria. In fact, I've spent much of my time as a broken ankled bed-bound invalid watching seasons 1-3 of Daria. Season 3's "Daria!" was admittedly uncharacteristically gimmicky in its musical format. It's tone certainly clashes with Daria's self-described bitter 90s cynicism, but its quirky musical numbers and naturally disastrous hurricane theme manage to tether it down to appropriate Daria sarcasm levels.

The songs are uncannily catchy. The episode particularly reminds me of how much I love Daria's dear old Dad Jake. His performance in "God God Dammit" and "Manly" truly captured his good-natured anger and mild insanity. When he sings, "I'm proud to be the home/of a Y chromosome", he does so with such fervor and intent that I'm nearly spurned to jealousy at my unfortunate double-X situation. "Obsessed", the duet between sister Quinn and mother Helen illuminates the perfectionistic similarities of their personalities that were obviously too nuanced for those of us assuming both were merely well-intentioned but grating.

Of course, I'm somewhat partial to "They Must be Worried", mainly because I love Brittany's squeak. It's just so eardrum-shatteringly endearing. Help yourself to the full episode below:








Buffy The Vampire Slayer: "Once More with Feeling"

Okay, so technically this episode wasn't broadcast until 2001, but the producers had been tossing around the idea for years. Unluckily for them, the timing of the Xena: Warrior Princess musical (see below) put a halt to their plans. After all, they didn't want to appear to be piggybacking on the success of their fellow hit fantasy program.

Buffy the Vampire Slayer was a show with a serious cult following, so the show's producers had a good deal of leeway from their trusting fans. Not every live action show can swing a musical, but Buffy viewers had some pretty serious faith in the object of their television affection. Of course, musicals work better in fantasy shows as there can be some sort of vague and mysterious supernatural force that brings about this wave of singing and dancing. Such was the case in "Once More with Feeling", where everyone has suddenly been compelled to air their innermost feelings via song-and-dance. Unluckily for some, this could backfire and short-circuit, causing spontaneous combustion.

The songs are well-arranged and the cast is surprisingly musically inclined. All of the cast members sing their own parts, though some of the less musically robust stars have fewer singing parts than others. The episode was extremely well-received by Buffy's loyal fan base and critics alike, with TV Guide ranking the episode at a noteworthy 14th place on its countdown of TV's 100 best episodes.






Rocko's Modern Life: Zanzibar

You know a musical episode has some powerfully catchy songs when you still clearly remember the lyrics unprovoked 13 years later. This Earth Day themed musical featured the good-hearted earth-minded citizens of O-Town seeking to clean up their town and fight against the tyrannical pollution from supercorporatio Conglom-O (slogan: "We Own You"). Rocko's Modern Life is one of those great cartoons aimed at children that manages to be legitimately funny on a level more mature audiences can enjoy.

"Zanzibar" doesn't disappoint on the well-timed deadpan humor. When everyone spontaneously bursts into song about Spring Cleaning, Rocko looks around bemused and bewildered. "How is it you all know the words? Did you rehearse?" He asks somewhat accusatorily in that adorable Aussie accent of it. "Yeah, every Thursday," his pal Heffer replies without skipping a beat, brandishing a paper filled with rehearsal details. "Didn't you see the flyers?" Thus goes the tongue-in-cheek but admittedly socially-conscious musical episode: it doesn't water down the message, but it certainly entertains between preaching.

Luckily a giant compost heap with some helpful visual aids commands them to "R-E-C-Y-C-L-E recycle! C-O-N-S-E-R-V-E conserve! Don't you P-O-L-L-U-T-E pollute the river sky or sea or else you're gonna geeeeeet...what you deseeeeerve!" Moved by the rotting vegetable heap's words, the crowd takes to city hall in the form of a big unruly mob. Despite some setbacks, Rocko succeeds at fighting City Hall. Ed Bighead gets sentenced to some dirty work cleanup but remains unmoved by the cause.

Luckily, the compost heap returns at the close to offer us these heady words of wisdom, "See kids? If we're not nice to Mother Nature, she'll kick our butts." Wise words indeed, especially as they come from a rotting pile of discarded vegetation.

Rocko's Modern Life - Zanzibar





Xena: The Bitter Suite

The 90s were big on historical fantasy, specifically those types of shows geared toward historical fantasy nerd fetishists. Xena: Warrior Princess featured hulkingly beautiful Amazonian Lucy Lawless as a muscularly endowed ancient Grecian seeking to repent for past sins by helping others. A spinoff of Hercules: The Legendary Journey, the show could be summarized in the following SAT-style analogy: Xena is to Hercules as pseudo-historical porn for female-seeking fantasy nerds is to pseudo-historical porn for male-seeking fantasy nerds.

The show didn't need much of a push to be classified as over-the-top, but its musicals certainly made a valiant effort. The show produced a musical episode entitled "The Bitter Suite", featuring original songs. I was never much of a Xena person, but admittedly the promo below makes it look like a veritable guilty pleasure. The Bitter Suite pitted Xena and her sidekick Gabrielle against one another in the mysterious Land of Illusia after Gabs's semi-demonic daughter kills Xena's son. Scandalous, no? From my limited knowledge of Xena music (based on the non-lyrical Xena episodic soundtrack I used for a synchronized swimming trio routine), I'll put myself out on a limb and vouch that it's pretty badass. In a pseudo-historical fantasy television sort of way, that is.






Garfield and Friends: Picnic Panic

I can't lie to you, readers. I mainly just like this episode because of the singing ants. They're so cute. And I don't even like ants. They move in on the picnic and steal their delicious basketful of food, singing the whole way through in their adorable tinny ant voices.

A close second for Garfield doing an impression of BLT on rye. Really, he's quite convincing.

Garfield and Friends
Uploaded by Wrestlegameshow.

Though musical episodes are risky, they're also a lot of fun if the show manages to pull them off. I'd venture to say most of these episodes succeeded, as I am still humming, "R-E-C-Y-C-L-E recycle" to myself at inopportune times. If you watched that video, I'm willing to bet that you are, too.

Beavis and Butthead

As I sit here watching a can't-take-my-eyes-off-this-trainwreck marathon of MTV's 16 and Pregnant, I have to wonder what exactly is going on at MTV. First Date my Mom, and now this? What happened to the far-superior, significantly less lazy programming of my day? Back when I was a kid, MTV had a little intelligence, didn't it? And before you say something, yes, I'm old enough now to get all crotchety about this. Before you know it I'll be hiking my pants up to my eyelids and complaining about that damned newfangled rock music.

While I reminisce about my MTV glory days, I accidentally contradict my inital proclamation of the golden age of intellectually stimulating programming by entertaining the notion of the show Beavis and Butthead. I know, I know, I should be mentally conjuring something more promising for my things-were-better-in-my-day argument, but I can't help it. After all, I already wrote about Daria, who more than cornered the market on intelligent, sharp-witted MTV original programming. And since Daria spun off from Beavis and Butthead, I can only hope this reflects on the quality of Beavis and Butthead themselves. After all, that little delusion is certainly easier than admitting a teensy bit of hypocrisy.

Anyhow, the series featured its eponymous cartoon stars, deadbeat high schoolers with a shared penchant for extreme obnoxiousness.


Despite their young age, for some reason we never really encounter any sort of parental figures. Beavis and Butthead were pretty single-minded, er triple-minded. Their lives revolve around the pursuit of chicks, nachos, and hardcore heavy metal. After all, what good would heavy metal be without a side of chicks and nachos?

That was pretty much it. Oh wait, did I mention that Beavis had a ridiculous alter-ago named The Great Cornholio? Because that part is sort of important. Whenever Beavis got all hopped up on caffeine and sugar, he morphed into El Cornholio and began seizing up and speaking in tongues. That's normal, right? He raises his arms Evita-style, puts his shirt over his head, and in a vaguely Spanish accent declares boldly, "I am Cornolio!" Sometimes just for kicks he'd also discuss the need for TP for his bung-hole. Oh, and he comes from Lake Titicaca. Heh.

Observe, a montage:



If you sat through that full two minutes and 17 seconds, bravo. You have an extremely high threshold for pain and under-the-skin irritants. Kudos.

Butthead (first name Butt, last name Head) was more of a charmer with his signature, "Hey baby". Who could resist that alluring cad? Between the braces and that adorable "heh heh, heh heh" laugh, I can't settle on a best feature.

And...that's about it. They have a neighbor and a teacher or two who sporadically show up as supporting characters, but generally it's just the two of them wreaking widespread havoc. They occasionally are employed at fast food joint Burger World, though their general incompetence in a long-running theme. Behold, their general slackerish incompetence:



As you can probably gather, the appeal of these characters was baffling. For some reason, the show ran an astounding seven seasons. SEVEN. Meanwhile, gems like Freaks and Geeks run for one. Riddle me that one, nineties kids. Riddle me that. I'm sorry to say I'm a bit ashamed of our collective inability to appreciate witty shows in favor of cackling over a couple of oversize-headed kids in Metallica and ACDC t-shirts. For shame, children of the 90s. For shame.

Beavis and Butthead wasn't all stupid, of course. Beneath the veneer of rudeness and outright obnoxiousness lay a thinly concealed layer of social commentary and witty observations. Of course, B&B themselves were too oblivious to make these observations themselves. Rather, the social criticism was tied to the fabric of the show, emphasizing the stupidity, laziness, and anti-intelligence of youth culture. It was a pretty multi-faceted approach at social commentary, though it probably didn't do much for viewers in terms of elevating youth culture. If nothing else, it probably taught many of them to light stuff on fire and delight in general idiotic mayhem. Maybe I'm just a cynic, but I think that qualifies as missing the point.

It wasn't all fun and games for MTV, though. A young child burned down his family's mobile home, purportedly influenced by Beavis's maniacal obsession with lighting things on fire. It was certainly tragic, though you have to wonder where the boy's parents were during this whole thing. As with other controversial shows, movies, and games, parents often expressed outrage that these characters were being portrayed as an idealized example.

They weren't, of course. It was a pretty thin argument. MTV began running a caveat before the show, saying:

Beavis and Butt-head are not role models. They're not even human. They're cartoons. Some of the things they do could cause a person to get hurt, expelled, arrested, possibly deported. To put it another way: Don't try this at home.

At the end of the day, that was the moral of the story. They weren't humans. They were cartoons. They weren't people to aspire to emulate, they were fictional characters and moronic ones at that.

Beavis and Butthead got the full-length feature treatment in Beavis and Butthead Do America, where they continued to terrorize the nation with their unapologetic stupidity:



The movie boasts a surprising 72% positive rating at rottentomatoes.com, suggesting that perhaps their juvenile sense of humor was enjoyed by more people than would care to admit it. Like any guilty pleasure, B&B provided us with laughter for things that we knew deep down we probably should not find funny. But we did. Because it was funny. Beavis and Butthead may have been a pair of music video-ragging idiot savants, but they were a lot more perceptive than people gave them credit for. Inadvertently, that is. The show was ripe with contradictions, but then again, so is real life. Heh heh. Heh heh.

From Humble Beginnings: Before They Were (Animated) Stars

A funny thing happened to cartoons in the 90s. While once relegated exclusively for the mindless enjoyment of children, in the 1990s a new breed of animated series emerged with decidedly adult content. TV producers took the basic premise of the animated series and morphed it into a viable means of conveying grown-up themes and humor. These weren't your mother's cartoons. Or perhaps more accurately, they were.

Adult-geared cartoons flourished, and many of these series had long and fruitful runs far outstripping their initial potential. In fact, some of these shows continue to churn out new episodes today, though their adherence to original standards is ultimately questionable. Mind you, what we are about to delve into is a brief smattering of 90s adult cartoons and is by no means intended to represent the full canon. It does, however, represent part of the spark of the novel idea.

Nowadays, blocks of grown-up-geared cartoons air frequently on FOX or Cartoon Network's Adult Swim; if anything, the concept has gotten a smidgen tired. Back in the mid-to-late 90s, however, the concept was but a twinkle in the animators' eyes. The idea was just beginning to bud, and the craftsmanship was at best on the shoddy side. The underlying goal, however, was solid: to bring entertainment to an older audience using animation. Depending on your age at the time of their release. you may have enjoyed or misunderstood these cartoons. Either way, I think we can all agree that a lot has changed since their initial episodes.




The Simpsons

The Simpsons premiered on the Tracey Ullman Show in 1987, though its format was far from the smoothly drawn HD-TV Simpsons of today. The Simpsons began as a series of one-minute shorts focusing on a decidedly dysfunctional family.

Observe, the 16th short from the Tracey Ullman Show:



Sure, it's mildly amusing, but it's hard to believe that this meager offering evolved into a monstrous franchise spanning over 20 years. Obviously the Simpsons had a long way to go before achieving its immense popularity. Incredibly, all of the main character's original voice actors continue to perform their same roles. How's that for job security?




South Park

Though nowhere near as long-running as The Simpsons, South Park still boasts cartoon longevity running on its 13th season. When it premiered on Comedy Central in 1997, it was received as crude, juvenile, foul-mouthed, and dark. Critics noted the sharp contrast between the cute, innocent appearance of the characters and the filth that emanated from their poorly animated mouths. South Park was the first weekly TV series to receive the TV-MA rating, indicating it's intention of reaching mature audiences only. Depending on your definition of mature, this maturity was definitely open to interpretation.

In 1992, Matt Stone and Trey Parker produced the first ever South Park Short, The Spirit of Christmas: Jesus vs. Frosty. The film was presented at a student student film screening at their then-place of higher learning, University of Colorado. Though very, very rudimentary, the characters are shockingly similar to their current forms. They even have a "Oh my God! You killed Kenny!" sequence, only the Kenny in question later becomes the episodic Cartman.


Spirit of Christmas: Jesus vs. Frosty:


In 1995, with a slightly bigger budget, Stone and Parker produced a second Christmas short at the personal request of a FOX executive. It soon became one of the first viral videos, eventually catching the attention of Comedy central and prompting the initial discussion of the series.

The Spirit of Christmas, 1995 version: Jesus vs. Santa:


The actual pilot episode (shown below in its entirety, if you're into that kind of thing) is entitled "Cartman Gets an Anal Probe." Cute, right? Though many of us would hardly bat an eye over this today, at the time of its release it was pretty envelope-pushing.


more movies at www.miloop.com




Family Guy

I'm sure I'll be burned at the proverbial stake for my heathenry, but I am ready to admit that I have lost interest in the new Family Guy episodes as of late. Pardon me for not worshiping at the feet of the great MacFarlane, but I don't find it particularly funny anymore. It's gotten so gimmicky, it's forgotten its initial, truer, lighter gimmickiness. Okay, so maybe that's a bit confusing, but I promise there is some sort of sense buried in that statement somewhere. After all, I used to be a pretty dedicated fan during the DVD era.

Family Guy is a series that has been through innumerable phases and reformulations. In fact, the animated short that eventually became the series was not Family Guy at all but rather The Life of Larry. Life of Larry featured a slovenly middle-aged man named Larry, his wife Lois (I think we can all see where this is going), his son Milt, and his talking dog Steve. If you watch the short below, you'll see that the animation and character style is distinctly different, but the jokes do get recycled into later Family Guy episodes. I guess some jokes are just too good to waste.


Life of Larry (1995):

I will admit I find it pretty funny when Seth MacFarlane says, "Oh, hi there. You scared the crap out of me."

MacFarlane created a second Larry short, Larry and Steve, for Cartoon Network a year or so later:



The Family Guy pilot came a few years later (see clip below). If you're a fan, you may recognize it as a more crappily-animated version (with a few differences) of the 1999 premiere episode, Death Has a Shadow. As you can probably gather, the characters and flow differ pretty significantly from the current version:









Futurama

From the creators of the Simpsons, Futurama was a satirical science-fiction cartoon focusing on the life of Fry, a nebbishy pizza delivery guy who falls into a cryogenic freezer in 1999 only to be revived in the year 3000. Let me just clarify that Fry deserves our utmost 90s respect as he is voiced by Billy West, the man who brought us Doug Funnie, Roger Klotz, Stimpy, and the voices of Bugs Bunny and Elmer Fudd in Space Jam. Now that's a 90s resume right there.

Fry and his distant relative Professor Farnsworth (along their robot, alien, and mutant misfit friends) start a shipping company called Planet Express. Over 2000 years, Fry evolved from delivery guy to...delivery guy. What a journey. The pilot is very set-up heavy as the premise of the show is fairly complicated, but if you stuck with it for awhile there were certainly payoffs. Now is probably also a good time to mention that Comedy Central recently ordered 26 new episodes of Futurama set to air in 2010. Set your phone calendar alarms, people, this is going to be big.

Clip from Space Pilot 3000, the Futurama pilot episode:






Daria

I know, I know, Daria was aimed at teens more than adults, but as my favorite cartoon ever I've made the executive decision to place it on this master list. I was in middle school and high school during Daria's run and just toeing the waters of sarcasm, so Daria really spoke to me on an "it's okay to be irreverent, rude, and brutally honest" kind of way. In short, Daria was my kind of girl, though significantly ballsier and more anti-social.

Or rather, in long. In the full-length episodes, we get a well-rounded picture of Daria with all of her character traits and flaws. In the pilot short, however, we get just an eensy taste of the sarcasm to come. As the Daria character premiered on Beavis and Butthead, the pilot short represented the transition from secondary character to star of the show. The show's creator's wanted to pitch the Daria series as completely separate from the juvenile lowbrow humor of B&B and thus sought to emphasize Daria's more biting wit and intelligence in the short. It's by no means as fleshed-out as the actual series (both literally and figuratively, as the pilot was done with crude animation in black and white), but you can gather the general idea:




The 90s showed us that animation geared toward more mature (age-wise) audiences was both a viable and worthwhile enterprise. You have to admire the enduring nature of these series: South Park and The Simpsons are still on the air, and Futurama and Family Guy both did so well in DVD sales and syndication that they were revived from the depths of cancellation hell. Now if only Viacom would see fit to release the Daria* DVDs, all would be right in the 90s cartoon world.


Hint: You can, however, watch the episodes online here. Just between you and me.

Space Jam

For generations, kids have grown up delighting in the fun and whimsy of Warner Brother's Looney Tunes. They're silly, they're quotable, they're animated...and apparently highly skilled at basketball.

So perhaps it seemed like an unlikely scenario that our old cartoon standards were tearing up the court, but in 1996, that's exactly what they set out to do. Even to highly imaginative children, it seemed seemed improbable that Bugs Bunny and the gang were going to excel basketbally. That is, until we found out they were enlisting the world-famous skills of none other than 90s basketball superstar Michael Jordan.

Rewind a decade or so, to a time before Michael Jordan was just the guy engaging in cheesy banter with Charlie Sheen in the tagless Hanes tees commercials. Once upon a time, Michael Jordan was every kid's hero. He was the Jordan of our Air Jordan sneakers, our favorite Dream Team player, and the man who brought fame and success to our beloved (at least in my corner of the world) Chicago Bulls. That was, until he pretended to play baseball. But that's a story for another time.

Kids everywhere looked up to Michael Jordan. They believed he could do anything. In fact, they almost believed (wait for it, wait for it)....

He could fly.

(And don't you worry. We'll get to that Quad City DJs song in another post. You didn't think I could leave that one alone, did you? Did you??)

So when we all eagerly lined up at movie theaters, settled in with some buttered popcorn, and heard R. Kelly's lyrical interpretation of a young Michael Jordan believing he could fly, we were right there with him. MJ had been a kid. We were kids. Remember, this was before we knew that R. Kelly liked kids, so it was still acceptable get caught up in the fantasy. Ours, that is. Not his.

Space Jam was a child's dream. It's hard for me to imagine any contemporary basketball star calling up his agent and saying, "You know what I really want? To act in a feature film with cartoons. Make it happen." Call me cynical, but it seems doubtful Lebron or Kobe would be up for such shenanigans (although, to their credit, they have appeared in those Most Valuable Puppet commercials). No, this was a different time, and Michael Jordan was a different player. It had all of the ingredients of child-friendly greatness.

The plot begins as a tongue-in-cheek play on Jordan's real-life rocky transition from legitimate basketball hero to semi-respected minor league baseball player. Meanwhile, planets away, these weird little space bugs (Nerdlucks, if you will) are dispatched on a mission to kidnap the Looney Tunes to serve as in-house entertainers. I know what you're thinking, it makes perfect sense. Now bear with me here, because it gets even more logical as the plot curdles...er, thickens.

So these Nerdluck fellows find their way to earth, they get ahold of the Looney Tunes crowd and seek to take them back to the Nerdluck home planet, Moron Mountain. Still following? It's okay if you're not, I won't tell. Anywho, the Looney Tunes manage to convince these space critters that the only way to settle this is through a basketball game. Given their advantage in stature, it seemed like a fair bet.

Apparently these Nerdluck guys were some kind of magical, because they traveled to earth and managed to zap the basketball powers out of many prominent 90s NBA players. Lucky for us, countless big-name basketball stars were willing to embarrass themselves to this end:

Please, PLEASE tell me you recognized Dan Castellaneta, aka Homer Simpson, as that bald fan sitting next to the Nerdluck disguise. That's just too 90s-tacular to miss.

So now the Nerdlucks are big and scary and according to their jerseys, Monstars. Clever, no?

Bugs and Co aren't about to stand for this. They yank MJ through a golf hole into Looney Tune land to help them step up their game. After all, he's just a sort of crappy baseball player now, how much could they really miss him? So, several cheap jokes and athletic training montages later, here we all were at the ToonSquad/Monstars showdown. May the best man/tune/Monstar win.



Wow, just look at that dramatic Stretch Armstrong-esque ending moment. The crowd goes wild. The kids go wild. The NBA players' skills are restored and Jordan returns to basketball. All is right in the world again.

Looking back, the film wasn't all that well-received by critics, but my peers and I were utterly oblivious to this fact as children. Apparently, kids across the nation (and later, the world) agreed with us, as the film was a huge financial success. Things like plot and character development aren't of particular significance to children.

What really mattered to us was seeing our childhood heroes--animated and athletic--joining together in the bonds of...well, something. And for that single moment of cartoon/sportsman contact, it was magical.

Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles

Were you aware that Wikipedia actually has a disambiguation page entitled "anthropomorphic martial artists"? The description of the page reads, "This category contains articles about anthropomorphic animals in fiction who study martial arts." I see. As opposed to anthropomorphic animals in real life who study martial arts. Next time one of your household pets starts showing promising progress in Tae Kwon Do, feel free to create an adjacent Wikipedia page featuring the latter.

Apparently these martial arts-skilled animals are a popular phenomenon, but none more beloved than the original nonsensical backstory of the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles. An outrageously popular franchise in the late 80s and early-to-mid 90s, TMNT served as a beacon of hope to anyone who ever conceived of a farfetched idea for children's entertainment. Sure, all comic books require some degree of suspension of disbelief, but they generally ask us only to suspend and not to abandon it completely. For Superman or Batman, their backstory at least allows you some insight into their once-normal lives before they became breakout stars in the superhero world. Well, actually, Superman was technically born on the planet Krypton, so maybe you can scratch that. Either way, it still makes more sense that the warped world of the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles.



Let's break this down a bit. Teenage. Mutant. Ninja. Turtles. I would have loved to be a fly on the wall at this brainstorming meeting.

"Okay, so we've got these turtles. Wait, let me back up for a second. Did I mention they're mutants by means of exposure to dangerously radioactive sludge? Because that's sort of important too. Oh, and they're masters of Ninjustsu, a giant meditating rat taught them that. I'll have to fill in the blanks on that one later, but I swear, it'll all add up when I'm done with it. One last thing: I've been thinking that adult mutant ninja turtles are just not relatable enough for these kids. No, I think we better go for it and make them adolescents. So whaddaya think fellas, have we got a franchise here?"

Against all odds, they did. That story somehow managed to endear itself to children everywhere, who were miraculously convinced that it made perfect sense. The more ridiculous variables writers and marketers added to the story, the more blindly children accepted it as fact that this was just the way that adolescent mutated martial arts-practicing reptiles lived. When told the turtles were partial to pizza, children merely shrugged and asked, "So?" When confronted with the turtle's similarly ridiculous catchphrase, "Cowabunga!" these kids seemed utterly unfazed. Granted, if you explained the turtles were named after famous Renaissance-era Italian artists, you would probably receive only a blank stare in return, followed by the deep suspicion that they were being subjected to something educational against their will.

You can, however, bet that no children batted an eye while explaining the premise to adults. You have to admit, it certainly had imagination.



Wasn't that cartoon intro theme song informative? So you're telling me they're heroes in a half-shell, and they're green? Whoa, whoa, whoa, slow down, this seems complicated.

While TMNT had several different incarnations and story lines, I am going to keep it simple and focus mainly on the early animated TV series in this brief detailing of our colorful cast of characters:


Raphael (The Red One): Here was sort of a dark, aggressive, future wife-beater type character that any children who liked the color red would eventually aspire to emulate. Sure, he was generally a good guy, but he also was into that whole "I'm a rebellious teenage terrapin" deal. The animated show's theme song describes him as "cool but ruuuuuude", which i always found to be an unspeakably covetable way of being. I yearned for people to describe me as such, but unfortunately my coolness never quite caught up to my rudeness. Raphael was also was skilled in addressing the audience in a Ferris Bueller/Zach Morris style, earning him major cheesy 90s points in my book. He wielded a sai, which I always sort of mentally likened to Ariel's dad harpoon in The Little Mermaid. However, as I promised to gender-neutralize these posts to the best of my ability, I will concede and instead compare it to the fishing harpoons in the Amazon Trail computer game.


Donatello (The Purple One): Depicted as the industrious one, Donatello was the go-to turtle for all you handyman/vehicle-building needs. Pegged as the brain of the bunch, his ingenuity was key to extricating the turtles from many a villain-imposed sticky situation. According to the introductory song, he "does machines", which is certainly as vague a description as I've ever heard. He carried a bo staff, which is essentially an enormous wooden stick for baseball-bat-type pounding situations. I would also like to mention, if for nothing else but my own self-entertainment, that growing up I had a cat named Donatello. Well, technically, I named this cat Donatello and the rest of my family was forced to live with it. Regardless, he lived to be 20 and I credit his namesake's trademark smarts for his prolonged survival against feline odds.



Leonardo (The Blue One): Described the animated series' theme song as the group's leader, Leonardo was our fearless captain. In all truth, I always sort of found him to be edging on goody-goody territory. He's quiet, likes to read, and is generally boring in most other ways. I mean, how many times can you turn on the TV and go, "Ooh, now he's making a sandwich! Now he's being courteous to others! I think he just helped an elderly sewer rat cross the sewage stream"? They tried to spice it up in the live-action series by giving him all sorts of complexes, such as a major sibling rivalry with Raphael. Raphi essentially kicks his ass, but I'm pretty sure we were supposed to chalk it up to boys-will-be-boys grade horseplay. Leo did, however, have a pretty sweet ninja sword.



Michaelangelo (The Orange One): The Spicolli-esque slacker turtle of the bunch, Michaelangelo spent most of his time being carefree and coining annoying catch phrases. He's described in the theme song as a "Party Duuuuuude!" Mikey sat around eating pizza, reading comic books, making wisecracks, and randomly spouting nonsense words like "Cowabunga!" He was inexplicably some variety of California surfer dude, despite the fact that his brothers mostly had region-conflicting accents. I should probably be willing to let go of the stubborn nagging feeling that it's unacceptable for one brother to sound like a Brooklyn-ite and another a California beach bum; I suppose under these circumstances that's probably not the most ridiculous aspect on which to focus. Michaelangelo had a pair of traditional ninja-style nunchucks, which I always thought seemed fairly authentic in a vague interpretation of Asian martial arts culture sort of way.


Splinter (Mutant Rat): This was the guy responsible for imparting such virtuous ninja knowledge onto our ragtag group of aquatic reptilian heroes. The enormous fuzzy Splinter rat in the first live-action film is undeniably frightening, and more than likely cost me a few nights of sleep. And he was one of the good guys.

Terrifying live-action Splinter

Shredder (Evil Villian): Shredder mainly interested me because he was voiced by the dad from Fresh Prince. This guy was their requisite archenemy, though personally I was more interested in his warthog and rhino henchmen, Bebop and Rocksteady. Yes, those were really their names. Don't try to fight it. Embrace the ridiculousness.

Honorable mention: The bad guy with the talking tonsil. I will be forever indebted to anyone who can tell me what this guy's name was, because he certainly gave me a wealth of nightmares that have clearly since repressed any memory of his character's name, rank, and serial number.

This franchise was so sprawling and immense, it's impossible to cover all of its many retellings and reconfigurations. Perhaps the rest of the story is best left for another time, when I can fully explore the glory of the live-action film. I should probably leave this as a cliffhanger, to keep you wanting more TMNT until that day finally arrives.

Along those lines, here's a little teaser for your listening/viewing pleasure. Hopefully it will tide you over till the next installment. I present Vanilla Ice's borderline brilliant Ninja Rap from the first live-action TMNT film. As far as I know, he was totally serious about this song.



Extra credit to anyone who learns the dance to this.

Drug PSAs

Drug Public Service Announcements: love 'em or hate 'em, they're here to stay. Drug-centric PSAs skyrocketed to popularity in the late 80s and early 90s based on research that kids, well, enjoy drugs. Luckily, adults were here to put a stop to all that to-be-expected teenage experimentation by use of scare tactics and what can only be characterized as unfair equivocations. For instance, a logical human being may not immediately associate a single puff of a joint with a future of relentless crackheadery, but alas, there was a reason they hired the "creative" types for these ad campaigns.

The themes and approaches of 90s drug PSAs were all over the place; this was certainly not a well-thought out, focused approach. No, that kind of reasoning would be too effective. Instead of banding together to fight a common cause, anti-drug groups felt it better to create a free and unfettered marketplace of anti-substance ideals in which any organization could put out any ad as they saw fit. Never ones to be outdone, all sorts of people in the entertainment industry came out of the woodwork eager to put forth their own PSAs, such as in the following Ninja Turtles' sponsored Anti-Drug Ad. We can only assume that Leonardo really pushed for this as a positive career move for our half-shelled friends, as the notion that any actual human writer with limited functional brain capacity would ever conceive of the following ad is too much to take:





Oh no! Joey's in a jam! Joey's in a jam, indeed. You have to love the way that every anti-drug ad explicitly depicts drug users as overly eager to share their expensive and limited supply of drugs with uninterested others. The way the agressor states, "I've got some stuff you've just gotta try!" you'd think he was begging someone to take these joints off his hands. This kid looks all of 12 years old, so I'm not exactly sure what his major source of income is, but I think it's pretty safe to say that he wouldn't be overly eager to share the fruits of many weeks of allowance-saving with a casual acquaintance who clearly wants no part of it.

I also love the way that they cut to the Ninja Turtles doing a Q&A postmortem on the peer-pressure scenario video segment with a random elementary school class. Usually, when I'm in jam not unsimilar to Joey's, I use my Zack Morris "Freeze!" power to assemble a bunch of random children to talk out my problem with the TMNT themselves. At least the turtles keep it light with their pizza jokes. Get real, Michaelangelo. You also have to love the eagerness with which that kid in front shrieks, "Get out of there!" With enthusiasm like this, it's fairly certain that there are no marijuana users in this classroom.

So way to go, Joey. Call him a turkey! Take that, bully five times Joey's size! And as the turtles say, drug users are dorks! Who better to trust than martial-arts trained sewer-dwelling half-masked pizza-loving mutant turtles? Who, I ask you?

If that one didn't quite jive with you as a child, there was always this more, er, subtle approach:




Wait, wait, wait, wait, wait. Backtrack a second. I see what you're getting at here with your extended metaphor and all, but...really? I have quite of few points of contention with this ad, the foremost of which being that it's obviously and blatantly insensitive. Of course, though, it doesn't end there! Why does the narrator insist on referring to native Africans of 400 years ago as "African Americans"? They weren't African-Americans when they came here, they were Africans. What a total shot in the dark attempt to be PC in an utterly un-PC commercial.

Oh, voiceover, what gem of wisdom will you share with us next? Oh wait, if I am of African American descent and use drugs, I'm directly dishonoring my ancestors and reenslaving my people? You were always one for subtlety, disembodied voice.

If you still weren't off drugs forever after watching that sobering ad, you could always wait a couple of years to be influenced by this one:




N*Sync, your light and playful tone will surely deter heavy drug use, especially among alternative kids. I don't know if it ever occurred to somebody that N*Sync fans may not be the population most heavily correlated with drug use, but here they are telling us what they're into. And boy, do they have some hilarious fake hobbies! Oh, scriptwriters, have you got these boys pegged. As a former synchronized swimmer, I may have to take some offense to JC's jab, especially because the other lines they give him ("baroque minimalism!") implies that synchronized swimming is in some way wacky and insane (if you are unaware, it's not). You have to enjoy the pre-outed Lance Bance shrieking effeminately, though. At least they had the wisdom to throw some foreshadowing in there for good measure. Oh, and to have him say he's into acting. Touche, scriptwriters. I guess those girls are in the ad to illustrate how desirable N*Sync is. I can't really fathom any alternate explanation for their presence. If anyone was yet to question N*Sync's crediibility and/or masculinity as musical artists, I think this ad probably sealed the deal.

Of course, there was also the more serious (some may say, depressing) approach:




Cue up the maudlin music and watch an adorable inner-city black kid with the hi-top fade haircut dodge the drug pushers. As in the first ad we saw here, it's fair to assume that all drug users are out to force their expensive fare on us. They will not rest until every pocket-moneyless child is forced to try their limited supply of drugs free of charge.

Unfortunately, my favorite-ever anti-drug commercial from 1998 has been forever exiled into the black hole of internet obscurity. Despite an inordinate amount of time spent searching for my once-beloved animated anti-drug PSA, it seems to be completely absent from an otherwise well-stocked video cyberspace. Lucky for all of you, I took a memorization class in gifted summer school in 2nd grade* and have the words forever branded into my once-impressionable childhood brain. It goes a little something like this:

I'd rather eat a big old bug! Than ever take a stupid drug!
Drugs aren't cool, they can mess you up at school,
Drugs are a pain, they can hurt your body and your brain!

A big ol' bug with an ugly mug, is better than any stupid drug!

They make you sad, they make your parents mad,
Drugs are dumb, they make you clumsy, slow, and numb!

I'd rather eat a big old bug...

(Bug interjects:) Don't do drugs!

Than ever take a stupid drug!


There are a lot of confusing elements of this anti-drug jingle, so I'll try my best to break it down for you. First off, are we to believe that the size and age of a given bug are inversely proportional to its desirability relative to drugs? In which case, a young, small bug may not hold the same anti-drug message. Very interesting. And what a kind, selfless bug he is. Even though he knows his life to be at stake with such an anti-drug proclamation, he can tell right from wrong. You just don't see that sort of self-sacrificing sprirt in animated insects these days.

And another thing! Drugs can mess me up at school? My parents will be mad? Whoa, whoa, whoa, slow down, anti-drug commercial. I'd never considered any of these outcomes before, I was only thinking of the joys of ingesting plump, juicy insects as a healthy alternative to drug use. Now that you've shown me the light (or darkness, of it may be) of drug use, I will dutifully chomp down on this animated bug sandwich to do my part to deter childhood drug abuse. Thanks, Partnership for a Drug-Free America.

For any of you out there (and I assume you are!) thinking to yourselves, "But what of all my favorite non-drug related PSAs from the 90s? Are they doomed to never see the light of Children of the 90s?" Well, I'm sorry to cause you that brief moment of anguish and withdrawal, but fear not; as God as my witness, those PSAs will be here for your enjoyment in a multi-part series I like to call, "Educational Advertising in the 90s is Completely F-ing Insane." Stay tuned!

And if you don't, the drug dealers from that last videos will most likely hunt you down and force it upon you unprovoked. True story.



*This fact is embarrassingly and unjustifiably true

Daria

Hearken back, if you will, to a time when MTV's original programming budget could afford more than the middle school dropout scriptwriters they currently employ to pen Date My Mom and A Shot of Love with Tila Tequila. A time when intelligent sardonic cartoons could still capture the imagination of a preteen audience not yet contaminated by the likes of High School Musical. A time when a contemptuous misanthrope could hold spotlight rather than be banished to the supporting character category.

And if you didn't quite see yourself as a Daria, well, there was always Quinn.

Daria Promo


The characters in Daria ran the social gamut in a manner of sharp satire rarely found in teen-directed television. This was no Saved by the Bell. No, Daria told it like it was; humorously and critically chronicling the vast teenage wasteland of suburbia. It's rare that such an abrasive character can be so likable, but the writers seemed to strike that perfect balance between edgy and observant. Sure, Daria wasn't all rainbows and sunshine, but she was complex and interesting. Not to mention that relating to her made us feel smart.

Yes, Daria Morgendorffer was of a rare breed. It's odd to think that such a profound and well-conceived character was spun off of such an utterly idiotic show as Beavis and Butthead, but so it was. The Daria sense of humor was fully distinct from the crude, if sometimes admittedly funny juvenile style of Beavis and Butthead.

Daria...from humble beginnings

Daria and her peers were developed in an intelligent way that had eluded their show of origin. The show mainly utilized Daria's derisive eye and provided us with endless satirical jabs at our own high school experience. Her distinct outsider status gave us all an opportunity to pretend for a brief moment that we did not occasionally shamefully see ourselves in the mainstream peers that she so disparaged.

Let's explore our quirky Lawndale cast:

Our Hero

Daria Morgendorffer, sarcastic extraordinaire and our eponymous hero. Her deadpan monotone packed a lot of punch into her exceedingly judgmental and smart-alecky comments. She met her best friend Jane in self-esteem enhancement class, if that provides any clue as to how she was perceived by others. She was cynical, opinionated, judgmental, and somewhat of a misfit, but there was something in her that was distinctly relatable nonetheless. The beauty of Daria was that even the most teenyboppery among us had some vague experience with teenage angst, though likely not on a Daria-level. As if by magic, the Daria creators were able to draw out (excuse the cartooning pun) that collective part of our adolescent selves who felt ill-at-ease in our orderly surroundings and make light of it.

The Trusty Sidekick

Jane Lane, Daria's rhyming-monikered partner in crime. Jane was a burgeoning artiste, favoring the odd and unusual in sync with her favorite TV show, "Sick Sad World." Her parents are frighteningly free-spirited, frequently leaving her and her older brother home alone for indeterminate periods of time to raise themselves as they saw fit. Jane had a comparable worldview to Daria, but was somewhat more relenting with her judgment of others and occasionally exhibited a weakness for the mainstream.

The Unrequited Crush

Trent Lane, Jane's brother and equally monotone misguided punk rocker in the band Mystik Spiral. Convinces Daria to pierce her belly button. Obviously bad news.

...Later Replaced by Requited Crush

Tom Sloane, Jane's former boyfriend and all-around likable wealthy snob. Unlike most other teen programs, Daria admirably did not eclipse this boyfriend switcharoo plot line in a single or two-part Blossom-style "Very Special Episode." Rather, the story arc of the tension between Jane and Daria over this clear case of boyfriend stealage was built over an entire season. In the end, Daria was likely just too awkward to maintain a steady relationship, though there was a hilarious after-school-special-esque "should-I-or-shouldn't-I" episode about Daria contemplating the loss of her virginity.

The Well-Meaning Parents

Helen and Jake Morgendorffer, hilariously overdrawn caricatures but well-intentioned parents nonetheless. Helen was a former-hippie-cum-high-powered attorney and was generally clueless about the lives of her daughters. Jake was a repressed stressball marketing consultant known for his ridiculous rants about the light childhood trauma of imposed military school. Helen and Jake would often spit out one another's names as if they were insults in a relatable if somewhat tragic way. These two were also known for occasionally getting freaky. It was relatively disturbing, if admittedly a tad sweet.

The Bubble-Headed Sister

Quinn Morgandorffer, Daria's ray of sunshine and spectacularly vain and materialistic lil' sis. You were never supposed to admit that Quinn was your favorite character in the face of Daria's more subtle humor and charm, but I must admit I was quite taken by Quinn. You wanted to despise her brazen superficiality, but there was something deep within her self-delusion and self-importance that was oddly appealing. If you could bizzaro-ize Daria exactly, Quinn would be the result. But in her own way, she was sort of cute, and not just because she constantly proclaimed herself to be so.

The Fashion Club

Quinn's ultra-superficial clique; Sandi, Stacey, and Tiffany, who possessed as a group probably my favorite voicework on any animated characters, ever. Sandi, the slowed-down-Romy-from-Romy-and-Michelle voice whose tyrannical leadership of the Fashion Club and constant rivalry with Quinn was a never-ceasing divisive issue. Born-follower Stacey, who probably should have been the one sent to self-esteem class for her unceasing agreement with everything ever said by anyone. Tiffany, who spoke so slowly you could knit a scarf in the time it took her to construct a sentence. Priceless. If you could have put a price on it, though, it's fairly certain these girls would have bought it.

The Interchangeable Quinn-Worshippers

Joey, Jeffy, and Jamie. All willing to drop anything to attend to Quinn's every whim. Their devotion and attention to detail was certainly admirable, though possibly a bit creepy.

The Requisite Dumb "Jocks"

Brittany and Kevin, dumb as rocks and constantly making out in the hallway. Need I say more?

Our Taste of Suburban Diversity

Jodi Landon and Michael "Don't Call Me Mack-Daddy" Mackenzie; the sole two black students at Lawndale High. Overachieving and sometimes a tad bitter about their ignorant classmates, but generally amiable.

The Generally Insane School Faculty

Lawndale High had a distinct knack for attracting faculty of the sanitarium-escapee variety. This ragtag gang of educators included an overly flirtatious bitter divorcee science teacher, the prone-to-shouting perpetually eye-poppingly angry history teacher, Stuart-Smalley-esque English teacher, and budget-hungry principal. Sure, there were a few normal ones in the bunch, but overall these teachers had a certain quality that made us wonder who let them work with children in the first place. We can only image it was part of some sort of work-release program.

As a burgeoning adolescent sarcastic, I too fancied myself some variety of Daria. The fact that I bought a ring bearing her sacred image at the Viacom store in New York City is a clear testament to my Quinn-rivaling lack of irony. This, however, reflected the beauty of Daria. It could be both a biting social commentary and successful commercial enterprise. They even shamelessly exercised some cute if somewhat tired gimmicks like musical episodes and full-length TV movies. The show differentiated itself from others, however, with its own unique brand of humor and distinctly un-MTV-esque quality. If you've ever sat through an episode of Parental Control, you know that's a good thing.

It also helped that the show didn't take itself too seriously, as many teen shows of the time were wont to do. Daria maintained a wonderfully tongue-in-cheek tone that created a cartoon world in which nothing was sacred, or at least nothing was safe from the show's critical lens. The wit was dry and sharp and utterly unapologetic. Better yet, the show's credits ended with "alter-ego" drawings of the main characters dressed as famous figures. What's not to like?


If you never got into it or simply can't seem to conjure up the memories, I've included a handy full episode (Season 3, episode 6, "It Happened One Nut") to revive what I can only hope will be your undying and forever devoted love to a once-great MTV show. If this doesn't convince you to join the fight for DVD release, I'm not sure what will:

Daria-peanut
Uploaded by micophive

Check it out:
Secret Stash of multi-part full eps on YouTube
Outpost Daria

Aaahh!!! Real Monsters

You can't help but love a television show whose title includes both a horrified reaction and accurate description of its cast. The more exclamatory, the better. What's that you say? It takes place in a landfill? I am so there.

It was the Golden Age of Nicktoons. Aaahh!!! Real Monsters was one of those shows for which you can both appreciate its creativity and wonder how they let a kooky idea spiral so quickly into something so absurdly intricate. Remarkably, the good people at Klasky-Csupo managed to make our monster friends both wildly idiosyncratic and relatable all at the same time. The key was that, like us children of the 90s, these monsters were kids. They went to school, they had homework, they sought to rebel, and they feared punishment from adult authority. Sure, they were always popping out of toilets and their major aim in life was to frighten the daylights and/or nightlights out of innocent children like ourselves, but they possessed a certain quirky underlying quality which made us root for them the whole way.


The matter-of-factness with which the Monster Academy and its zany cast of characters was presented to us as children made these ridiculous beings seem almost plausible. We had no reason not to believe that a red bunny rabbit, a black and white candy cane wearing wax lips, and an amorphous smelly blob of play-dough holding eyeballs roomed together at boarding school at the dump and get themselves into all sorts of wacky comedic situations. The main characters possessed a more-than-adequate amount of human-like charm in their personality traits and behaviors; one was a neurotic worrywart, one a laid-back slacker, and the last an uptight wealthy perfectionist. They were 90s TV standards incarnate, made over into so-ugly-they're-cute preteen monsters.

For a children's cartoon, it was fairly dark. In fact, some children found parts of it downright frightening. The show was completely unapologetic about its premise and refused to "tone down" any characters who may have been perceived as, well, terrifying. The Monster Academy's headmaster, the Gromble, had a tough-love approach that involved a great deal of yelling, threatening, and eating students in a way not usually conducive to positive adult role models. Similarly, if our young monster friends misbehaved, they faced being subject to the dreaded Snorch's torturous punishments and incoherent ramblings. These punishments included such terrifying fare as group square dancing, and for any child forced to do-si-do in elementary school gym class, we understood the graveness of their concern.

Behold, the wondrous intro:

Find more videos like this on www.truveo.com.

The monsters were so sweet and well-intentioned, we often forgot that their livelihood was frightening human children. Ickis, Krumm, and Oblina were a ragtag trio of preteen monsters trying to make it through their semester at Monster Academy unscathed.

Let's meet our heroes:

Ickis, neurotic crimson pipsqueak constantly mistaken for an adorable and distinctly unscary bunny rabbit. His scaring technique involved some form of self-inflation that ballooned him to several times his usual nonthreatening stature.


Krumm, resident slacker and all-around smelly cream-puff. His uncanny ability to frighten people with body odor alone iwas both remarkable and a bit disgusting. He also had the odd fortune of having to hold his eyeballs in hand as he was generally socketless.


Oblina, candy cane extraordinaire and token rich snob. Her supposedly cultured taste veered more toward the bacterial than the highbrow, consistent with her monster upbringing. She possessed enormous red lips and the ability to extract her internal organs from them en masse for the general gross-out scare factor.

Our squalid principals ran about wreaking havoc in a Monsters INC prequel-type fashion. Deep down, we knew them to be good, but they still had the power to scare the bejeezus out of us with their formidable antics. At the end of the day, however, we understood their motives and were willing to forget their propensity for apprehending unsuspecting children. After being taken in by a few good episodes, we too could picture ourselves rolling around in the trash after a long day of scaring, dodging Simon the Monster Hunter, and desperately trying to make ourselves look more repulsive to potential mates we were currently "squishing" on.

Aaah!!! Real Monsters took 90s sitcom conventions and turned them on their head; the cleverness of it was not lost on us, even as children. Not to mention that the innumerable tongue-in-cheek cultural references satiated any adult in the room, allowing them to chuckle and briefly forget the potentially dire psychological effects this gross-out humor was probably unleashing on their young, impressionable children.

Whether you viewed yourself more as an Ickis, an Oblina, or a Krumm, we all saw a little piece of ourselves in these allegedly real monsters. Maybe we weren't surfing the sewers or using toenails as currency, but we were experiencing the same pre-adolescent pitfalls as our monstrous counterparts. Being sentenced to detention may not have been quite as afflictive as a Snorching session, but we recognized the general idea.

If you have somehow lost your childhood sense of whimsy and imagination, fear not. Well, maybe fear a little bit, but there's still hope for you to enjoy this classic Nicktoon in all its first season glory on Itunes.

So cue up the old episodes and stay awhile. You too will be Hooked on Phobics in no time.


Check it out:
Aaahh!!! Real Monsters episode guide