In the Meantime, Please Enjoy this Classic Post: Magic Eye

Repost Disclaimer: Children of the Nineties is at a work conference, and despite desperate pleas to the contrary is not entitled to personal computer time. In the meantime, please enjoy a pre-scheduled classic CotN repost from earlier this year. As I only had three or four readers at the time, it's probably (okay, almost definitely) new to you.


Magic Eye


It's a well-known fact that all children enjoy staring at a two dimensional image for so long that their eyes begin to glaze over and water uncontrollably. Their heads may ache, their eyes may lose focus, and their patience may wear paper thin, but nothing will impede them from their ultimate visual goal. Though usually it is near impossible to force a child to stay still, set one in front of a Magic Eye book or poster and prepare to be amazed: not by the Magic we were promised, but rather by the level of maddening concentration associated with capturing it.

There was nothing worse than being the one kid who couldn't see the hidden image. If you were ocularly challenged in a manner that hindered your useless ability to view a supposedly three dimensional image amongst a repetitive sea of two-dimensional images, you were relegated to endless ridicule and social alienation. God help you if you suffered from the curse of poor binocular disparity, as you were likely headed for a sad and lonely existence devoid of exciting jump-from-the-page imagery. A seemingly pointless skill of blank staring suddenly set apart the Haves from the Have Nots.

In bookstores and classrooms across the nation, the same conversation was taking place between increasingly frustrated pairs of children:

Kid #1: Look at the picture.
Kid #2: Okay, I'm looking. (long pause) So, what's supposed to happen here?
Kid #1: You'll see something.
Kid #2: I'll see what?
Kid #1: Just look at it!
Kid #2: I am looking.
Kid #1: No, look past it.
Kid #2: Oh, I think I kind of...
Kid #1: Do you see it now?
Kid #2: Um, yeah, I think so.
Kid #1: So what is it?
Kid #2: A...whale?
Kid #1: Ugh, it's the Statue of Liberty. Man, you suck at these things.

(Kid #2 walks off with pounding eye strain-based headache and wounded pride)

And...scene.

Nobody really seemed to know how these things worked, and no one really seemed to care. The real test of 90s childhood street credibility was an uncanny capacity to descramble austereogramatic images. I know, it makes perfect sense. How else are we supposed to prioritize our social structure? Brains? Looks? Give me a break. It was Magic Eye or nothing.


The burning shame of not being one of the Chosen Ones was both crippling and inescapable. Living with the constant fear that our mothers' old adages of our crossed eyes forever sticking that way was not enough to deter us from staring intently until our brains were set to burst. We were determined that this would be the time that we would finally see what everyone was raving about. Those who were skilled in the ways of the Magic Eye were constantly coaching us, insisting that we were doing it wrong. Despite our protests of poor depth perception or an inability to visually construct convergent images, the Seers were neverendingly giving us all sorts of well-meaning contradictory viewing tips:

"Cross your eyes a little!"
"Eyeballs further apart!"

"Look to the left of it!"
"The other left!"

"Try to focus on one spot!"
"Don't focus your eyes on anything at all!"
"Try to look past it!"

That last one was always my favorite. Oh, you want me to look past it? I was foolishly looking at it. Alrighty, no problem. I knew this x-ray vision would eventually come in handy. I'll just gaze straight through the paper to the next page and I'll be set.

Unfortunately, this brand sarcasm was lost on our persistent Magic Eye instructors. After all, who cares about attitude when you've got magical pictures? Hopeful that their Magic Eye proteges may have finally blossomed into fully evolved viewers capable of perceiving 3D imagery, the Seers would eagerly ask, "Can you see it now?" Horribly embarrassed by our ineptitude, we would have to grudgingly admit time and time again that we still lacked the basic ogling skills necessary to deconstruct a series of seemingly meaningless colored dots. Try as we might, we would never be content to simply accept it as a moderately attractive example of pointilistic art. We knew it was so much more, and we wanted in.

Thankfully, our dear uploading friends over at YouTube have put together an instructional video of sorts. Don't let the soothing music and whimsical font fool you. This thing is serious. I followed the instructions to a T, but somewhere along the way my plan to see a glorious hidden three-dimensional image took a turn for the worst. It brought me right back to 1995, with all my Seeing friends telling me, "You're thinking about it too much. Just stare at it. Don't think about it at all." Right. Because telling me not to think too much about it leads me to think about it prominently and intently. Why don't you give it a try and see what you see:



Isn't that nice? They offer that little consolatory image at the end to offset the continued wrenching humiliation of those of us unable to see the 3D picture. If you can see it, congratulations. Your ocular capacity clearly exceeds mine, and I respect your visual superiority. However, if you failed to see the image, you are not alone; in fact, many of our celebrated television personalities faced the same issue, sometimes as a minor offshoot plotline!

On the original Ellen show, Ellen Degeneres desperately tried to hide her secret inability to Magic Eye. An episode of Seinfeld left George and others so transfixed by the Magic Eye task at hand that they were unable to complete the rudimentary functions of their everyday lives. And of course, we can't forget out beloved Friend Ross Gellar, who was chastised by the whole group for his incompetence at drawing out the 3D Statue of Liberty in one of the most popular Magic Eye pictures. US magazine has been right all along, they really are just like us! And they say there are no relatable characters in sitcoms.

Thus if you're feeling down about your lack of Magical Eyes, rest your weary sockets. You're among good company. For those of you who can see the mythical images, well, continue to bask in your transcendent ability. A skill you thought had been laid to rest years ago has briefly returned just long enough for you to reassert your superiority over the Blind. By tomorrow your so-called skill will reclaim its rightful place in obsolescence and your gloating rights will dissolve like the two dimensional dots from the three dimensional Statue of Liberty.

Enjoy it while it lasts, you lucky bastards.

Children of the 90s Travel Mix Tape Part Two: Flight Edition

I just can't seem to stay in one place for more than a few days at a time over this holiday season. I'm flying off again, this time for a work trip. Don't worry, though: I've got you covered. I know the pain of 90s withdrawal, so I've lined up some good classic posts for the coming week. No nostalgia detox necessary. You're welcome.

As I've mentioned, my iPod is full of 90s goodies. A flight playlist is tricky, though; it requires songs that you enjoy listening that you can both a) potentially sleep through and b) resist the urge to sing along. It can be a painstaking endeavor, but I think I've got my 90s flight playlist down to a near-science. Again, I must ask you to try your best to suspend judgment. Some of these songs are notoriously uncool to admit to, but I'm willing to put my already not-so-cool reputation on the line in the name of quality nostalgia. I thank you in advance for repressing your laughter.


You Get What You Give (New Radicals)



So much for keeping promises. This song has already failed my 90s flight playlist litmus test on one count: it is pretty fun to sing along to. The only part I really know goes something like, "Fashion shoot with Beck and Hanson, Courtney Love and Marilyn Manson...(*mumbling along, pretending to know words*)...we'll kick your ass in!" Okay, okay, I guess I don't know it quite as well as I'd thought.



Bittersweet Symphony (Verve)



If you're a true 90s aficionado, you'll recognize this as the song played toward the end of Cruel Intentions. For some unknown reason, I've always had a soft spot for that movie. It's like the original Gossip Girl. I think I'm just digging myself deeper into your merciless judgment now, so I'll just cut it off there. This is a great song, though, regardless of your feelings on Cruel Intentions.


Stay (Lisa Loeb)



Very artists can boast a number one hit without even signing onto a record label. Lisa Loeb was definitely among the lucky unsigned, with her 1994 debut single "Stay (I Missed You) skyrocketing to the top Billboard spot upon its release. The song was featured in Reality Bites, which just makes it all the more 90s. And really, how can you resist Loeb's quirky charm and schoolmarmish glasses?


Linger (Cranberries)


I've loved the Cranberries ever since I heard Clueless's Elton lament hisdistress at losing his copy of the CD. True Story.


Till I Hear it From You (Gin Blossoms)



If there's one thing the 90s music scene could really dish, it was soft alt-rock. Like many of my old favorites, its nostalgic claim is tied to its placement in one of my then-favorite movies. The single was featured in Empire Records, the soundtrack to which I listened to endlessly on repeat for many of my later elementary school years. For a flight, though, I'd definitely have to pick this over "Sugar High".



Undone: The Sweater Song (Weezer)



Some of you might lament my blatant omission of Weezer's "Buddy Holly" in favor of the arguably inferior "Undone: The Sweater Song", but you're just going to have to deal. You've got to like a song that can construct a solid mental visual like this one does.


Loser (Beck)



Looking back, this song was a little dark for us kids to be singing along to in the 90s. At least the chorus is. I didn't really know any of the words then and I don't really know any of the words now, but it's always enjoyable nonetheless.


Only Wanna Be With You (Hootie and the Blowfish)



Here's where the embarrassing part comes in. It's truly painfully unhip to admit you like Hootie and the Blowfish. This song is so catchy, though, I'm willing to brave the judgment of my far cooler peers.


Wonderwall (Oasis)



Growing up, this would always be one of those songs that kid who was barely mediocre at guitar would take on at a bonfire or group gathering. It's rumored that Liam Gallagher actually hates this song, but I'm going to respectfully disagree. It has a certain charm.


Killing Me Softly (The Fugees)



This song has been covered by dozens of artists, but Lauryn Hill's vocals managed to make this version stick. If you're going to do a cover, do it right.


Peaches (The Presidents of the United States of America)



There are all sorts of theories floating around on what exactly these peaches might symbolize, but the band's lead singer claims its content is totally innocent. It's definitely on the quirky side, but it has that unique alternative 90s appeal.


Virtual Insanity (Jamiroquai)



How can you not have loved this music video? You must have at least briefly coveted that hat. It's just so fuzzy and geometric. A winning chapeau combination.


Criminal (Fiona Apple)



As Fiona Apple's first major hit, "Criminal" introduced most of us to her unique vocal stylings. We may not have always agreed with her 1997 MTV VMA outburst against conformity, but she has a sort of idiosyncratic charm that grows on you with repeated listening.


Breakfast at Tiffany's (Deep Blue Something)



As far as one-hit wonders go, this tune had some staying power. I still hear it on the radio from time to time. It constantly reminds me that I have yet to see Breakfast at Tiffany's, which must be worth a watch based on the fact that it brought the couple in this song together. Actually, I heard they really wanted to write it about Roman Holiday but it didn't fit well, lyrically, so maybe I'm actually covered on this one.


Like I said, it can be a tough balance to find a song to which you can simultaneously enjoy listening and fall asleep, but most of these do it for me. A few of them might make me want to turn my iPod screen-down on my folding tray table to ward off wandering and undoubtedly judgmental eyes, but they're worthy of 90s love nonetheless.

South Park's First Christmas Episode: Mr Hankey the Christmas Poo

Let me just say, the internet makes tracking down these kinds of things next to impossible. I have to scour foreign video sharing sites, struggling to ascertain which Russian or Chinese characters translate to "embed". I could never let you down in my quest to bring you a classic Christmas episode, though; I'd navigate hundreds of bootleg Chinese video sites just to bring you a little bit of no-copyright-intended holiday cheer.

This particular episode certainly isn't for everybody. It's rude, it's crude, it's downright ridiculous. Alright, that seems like fair warning to the easily offended. Enjoy!