Disturbing, indeed

Two of my favorite bloggers (Al from My Life in a Blog and Nic from PinkNic) alerted me via Twitter (see? I learned how to use it!) of a horrible phenomenon affecting the contemporary cartoon character doll market.

If you grew up in the 80s and 90s, it's likely you knew about Rainbow Brite and Strawberry Shortcake. Even if you're a guy, you probably at least had a kid sister with a Rainbow Brite doll or Strawberry Shortcake tea party set. These were wholesome, innocent childlike characters.

Completely unlike their new manifestations. That is to say, they took a Bratz doll and a Hannah Montana action figure, stuck it in a blender, and set it to "extra slutty".


Strawberry Shortcake

image via babyblogblog.com

This is more than a little disturbing.They took what was essentially some form of Precious Moments figurine and morphed it into a coquettish teen giving come-hither eyes while perched suggestively on a flower. I can understand the desire to update her look (though to be honest, she wasn't exactly a beacon of coolness upon her original inception) but this borders on ridiculous.

Rainbow Brite:

images via rainbowbrite.net

Geez, even her magical horse looks more suggestive. I can understand the color upgrade, but they've pretty much zapped all of the childlike wonder out of her. While she used to be an adorable round-faced donut-sleeved child, the relaunch has pegged her as a slender cheerleader-type with waist-emphasizing belt and rainbow bangles.


Just what sort of messsage are these redesigns aiming to send to children today? People are constantly remarking on how children grow up faster these days, but you have to wonder if marketers are expediating the process a bit. Toy companies have vetoed baby fat and childlike innocence and replaced it with bedroom eyes and a snappy outift.

It's probably no coincidence that Strawberry Shortcake (and Rainbow Brite, until rights were recently sold to Hasbro) is owned by a company called Playmates toys. If that's not suggestive, well, then I'm not sure what is.

Flannel

Image via Hellocomein.com

Ah, lumberjacks. Is there any trend you can't start? First you had everyone wielding tree-demolishing axes. Then it was the log rolling. You were such a beacon of trend setting. Thankfully, your fashion forwardness did not disappoint.

Okay, so maybe lumberjacks weren't necessarily in on the whole ironic grunge wave of fashion, but they certainly did provide a wealth of inspiration. The early-to-mid 90s were an interesting era, fashion-wise. Highly influenced by the mainstream rise of grunge music and subsequent subculture, the 90s saw an inexplicable rise in woodsy, outdoorsy styles. As Seattle was the generally-agreed-upon birthplace of grunge, it was no wonder they had the whole fashion world dressing like Pacific Northwesterners. Minus the functionality, that is.

Flannel became a ubiquitous staple of youth culture identity in the 90s, flaunting a sense of moody, brooding anti-authority that so defined young people in the grunge era. Plaid, functionally warm button-down shirts provided the necessary anti-fashion vibe embodied by the irreverent point of contact between Generation X and Generation Y. Before Generation Y grew up and got all civic-minded and mainstream (and probably considerably less cool), they were still riding the crest of unshakable cynicism with their 70s-born hippie-parent-backlash peers of Generation X.

Before the days of hipster chic, the level of irony in one's clothing was not quite as well-selected. While now you can walk down a trendy urban street and see the exhaustively planned outfits of a bunch of American Apparel catalog rejects, ("See, if I pair this pinstriped fedora with these neon yellow 1970s high school gym shorts...") back in the 90s the anti-fashion was not quite so preconceived. Rather, while the 80s had provided us with ridiculous poppy, mainstream, shiny bright-colored trends, the 90s' answer was to spit in the face of these bubblegum trends and say, "Screw it all. We're wearing flannel."

General unkemptness was a popular side effect of the grunge culture. True to the movement's name, grunge followers were, well, grungy. They had dirty, stringy long hair and tended to have that pleasant unwashed look (and we can only assume, corresponding smell.) Lucky for society the actual grunge movement was pretty centralized, meaning the flannel-clad sullen-faced teens you saw in your own hometowns were likely some class of poseur. Sure, they had the flannel shirts and ripped up jeans, but they were buying the shirts 3 for 1 at Kohl's and purchasing their jeans pre-ripped. Their authenticity and intention was at best questionable. It's probably more that they just really, really liked the Smells Like Teen Spirit video than that they subscribed to any particular brand of anti-authority ideology.

Lucky for the flannel industry (there's a whole flannel commercial infrastructure, right? I assume) it it a highly functional fabric that certainly has its share of constructive uses. Though I'm sure the usefulness of flannel is far more wide-ranging, here are some of the basic functionalities of 1990s flannel-wearing:

1. It kept the heroin chic among us warm

Image via yenmag.net

Forget Twiggy, the 90s brought a whole new wave of painfully thin, strung-out-looking models. Kate Moss was an unsmiling, non-eating supposed inspiration for us all. You have to realize, though, that it gets cold being that skinny. These uninsulated waifs were lucky to have a big burly flannel on hand to fight off the 0% body fat woes.

Still true today:Flannel...now with 100% less pants!

2. The butt-less still reeling from Sir Mix-a-Lot's slurs could use it handily as padding

As seen in Bill and Ted--and yes, I'm aware the original came out in 1989

No one in the 90s would ever wear a flannel shirt on its own. No, it was necessary to pile on as many other cynical concert tees as you could muster in order to fully achieve your 90s grunginess. Sometimes, though, you just needed a break from your heat-producing flannel. Don't have a place to put it down? Use your body as a temporary hanger and tie it around your waist! A foolproof plan. Good for hiding bodily imperfections and stains, too.


3. You are so tired you couldn't possibly wait until you got home and climbed into bed.

Image via amazon.com

Luckily, your flannel doubled as pajamas. Or better yet, you could simply grab your handy seam-ripper and before you know it, you've got a new pair of winter sheets. Talk about multipurpose!


4. You would make a stellar extra on Nickelodeon's Pete and Pete or ABC's My So-Called Life


Both Petes were famous for their signature flannel looks. You'd be hard-pressed to find an episode of MSCL where neither Angela nor Jordan was wearing some manifestation of flannel somewhere on their person. These fine specimens of 90s television were spreading the good word of flannel, one episode at a time.

5. In a frequently temperature-shifting setting, it offered top-notch ventilation


Perfecting your flannel-based outfit was contingent on layering. Luckily, the open-flannel-over-t-shirt-or-thermal look allowed for intermittent breezes and important underarm and back ventilation.

6. Great for absorbing greasy hair!

How else would the members of Nirvana or Pearl Jam lay down to sleep at night without sliding off the pillow? Chalk it up to the ever-absorbent power of flannel. Go days without washing with full grease-drip protection!

7. You can pose as a Brawny Paper Towels spokesimage model, no problem

Again, that lumberjack image. When paired with your work jeans and some Doc Martens or Timberlands, you were pretty much ready for whatever challenge (or spill) nature threw at you.


To all you former Niravana-wannabes, embrace your once-burgeoning early 90s grunginess. You don't even need too be overly nostalgic to begin this inner hug, as flannel has (for better or worse) made a comeback in a big way. So go out there and wear it proudly. Just please don't tie it around your waist this time around.

Mystery Science Theater 3000

I know, I know, LOLcatz is probably the lowest form of humor, but when I saw this picture I couldn't resist.

Often when I watch movies with other people, they tend to grumble over an admittedly irritating habit of mine. My movie-mates beg and plead with me, "Can you please stop talking and making fun of this movie? You're completely ruining it for me." I pity these people, of course, because obviously they were not Mystery Science Theater 3000 fans as kids. If they had been, they would be well aware that this so-called annoying constant verbal mockery of mine was actually making it better.

Okay, so maybe I'm no Joel Robinson, but I swear, give me a couple of Bots and a space-based movie theater that exclusively plays B-movies and I'll hit it out of the park.

Mystery Science Theater 3000 (MST3K to uber nerdy die-hards like, ahem, myself) was an ingenious low-budget project that made its premiere on a local cable access channel in my hometown of Minneapolis. The concept was brilliant, innovative, and dirt-cheap to produce. The show's creators simply sought out the most terrible, unwatchable, most retina-burning feature films they could find, superimposed a couple of silhouettes across the bottom of the screen to give the illiusion of a movie theater environment, and spent the entire duration of the film mocking every conceivable element.

It had an intentionally shaky premise that made it incredibly easy for Joel and the Bots to poke fun not only at the movies, but at their own environment and circumstances as well. In one of the most literal, lengthy, and informative theme songs ever, we get the incredibly detailed and implausible series of events that led up to this B-movie imprisonment scenario:



The creators aimed for a low-budget look, at first for necessity on public access and later to stay true to their roots. The intro exemplified the tongue-in-cheek attitude of the show, particularly with the line:

"If you're wondering how he eats and breathes
And other science facts,
Just repeat to yourself 'It's just a show,
I should really just relax.'"

The theme also introduces us to Joel's robot friends (who he assembled out of the "start" and "stop" functions for the Satellite of Love movie theater, of course). The Bot gang was comprised of Cambot (allegedly recording these events and thus unseen), Gypsy, Crow T. Robot, and Tom Servo. They, along with Joel (and later, Mike) provided us with countless hours (really, countless, each show was incredibly lengthy) of ridiculous riffs and jabs.

Our lovable metalheads from left to right: Gypsy, Crow T. Robot, and Tom Servo. Image via CollegeCandy.com

The show never took itself too seriously, as the underlying concept of the show was to mock everything and anything both mercilessly and relentlessly. In the case that you were never a fan in your youth (and may I just say, for shame!), I am about to launch into my MST3K proselytizing. You've been warned.

The true genius of the show was its commitment to utmost simplicity and maximizing humor. They did very little in the way of continuity or character development in ways that watered down the full-speed-ahead-ness of its comedic contemporaries. The closest they came to any sort of plot development was in the form of brief preliminary, closing, and pre-commercial break skits like the following:



The above clip is from my all-time favorite episode, The Final Sacrifice,for which I have such a strong and fervent love that I feel the compelling need to post the entire 90 minute episode right here on my blog. Yep, I totally just did that. Please watch at your leisure.



If you've never watched the show, this is a prime specimen with which to pop your proverbial MST3k cherry. Seriously. Go ahead. Watch it. I'll wait.

Okay, presumably it's an hour and a half later, and you're now a full MST3K believer, so you'll probably far more interested in what I have to tell you. Good, good. I'm glad we could make to this point together.

The show went through many incarnations as it's network home and time slots changed over the years. Though it began on public access, it was soon thereafter picked up by Comedy Central, the show's home for five seasons of glorious unfettered riffing and due mockery. Joel Hodgson, the original trap-ee aboard the SOL (Satellite of Love) left during the 5th season and was swiftly replaced with Mike Nelson. Lucky for the show, the premise was so thin it was incredibly easy to pull off such a major switcharoo. While to other shows this may have been a critical shark-jumping moment of disaster, MST3K was able to emerge from the change generally unscathed.

Two years later, the show was picked up by the Sci Fi network (after much begging and pleading from fans) presumably based on its vaguely sci-fi Satellite of Love premise and robot sidekicks. The show's producers had to re-tailor the movies' themes in new epsiodes to better fit the Sci Fi cannon, but generally the show continued on its planned trajectory for another good few years until its unfortunate cancellation in 1999. Lucky for all of you, the geeks and nerds who adored this show are technically savvy enough to make most episodes available to all of us right here on the interweb.

The show now has a formidable cult following, which is unsurprising as it has a distinct appeal to the incredibly nerdy people who tend to be in charge of rounding up cult followings. I suppose after this brief foray into MST3K missionary work, I too can add myself to that list. The real appeal of the show is the bam-bam-bam flow of constant jokes. Sure, some of the references are thinly-veiled obscure inside jokes and others may not be as culturally relevant now as they once were, but for the most part, their mocking is timeless. Though trends and references may come and go over the years, there is one thing we can all agree on: making fun of everything.

In case you're not a full-fledged MST3K fan by now, I leave you with a few of my favorite Mystery Science Theater 3000 shorts:

Are You Ready for Marriage?



Cheating


Body Care and Grooming


Posture Pals