off-ramp: unmoved by other atrocities, MAGAist may view Trump’s connection with the sex-pest as a somewhat dignified way to sever connections with the movement
Via MetaFilter, as one—like we are accused of in this generation who has not watched an episode faithfully or chronologically since the early 2000s and have a different, rosier esteem for the long-running show fossilised somewhere and anxious that the series had concluded without my noticing, new lobby cards seeming wholly made-up—we really appreciate this rather epic retrospective episode by episode in reverse order that’s been ongoing since 2011 (and retroactive to 1989) for a show that means a lot to a lot of us for just existing in syndication. Detailed synopses for each with ratings, critiques and relations to others, reliving like all of us growing up and aging with these ageless but contemporary characters.
Though hardly seeming retro to me being raised in an established tradition of a certain vintage of families who left the television on CNN Headline News, C-SPAN and The Weather Channel for ambiance, we got some nostalgic feelings over, via Waxy, the WeatherStar 4000 service developed by Matt Walsh (complete with a compliment of code to make your own project) as an attested weather watcher, cycling through the forecast with various statics from the almanac. Giving up-to-date conditions and predictions with appropriate musical accompaniment of pop and smooth jazz, the site emulates the eponymous STAR (Satellite Transponder Addressable Receiver) proprietary technology, compiling data from the National Weather Service and Storm Prediction Centre, initially sold as an add-on for customised meteorological reports before being targeted to local markets—now drawing on NOAA (the National Oceanic and Atmospheric Administration, the acronym pronounced as ‘Noah’) only localised forecasts for the United States are available but an international version exists here.
Courtesy of our faithful chronicler we are reminded that on this day in 1969, the originally scheduled broadcast preempted more than two months due to special network coverage following the death of former president Dwight Eisenhower (see also here and here), the original run of Star Trek came to a rather ignominious end with its final episode (previously), two years short of its five year mission. Responding to a cry for help from an archaeological team on an Alpha Quadrant planet, (Captain’s log, Stardate 5928.5: The Enterprise has received a distress call from a group of scientists on Camus II, who are exploring the ruins of a dead civilisation. Their situation is desperate. Two of the survivors are the expedition’s surgeon, Dr Coleman and the leader of the expedition Dr Janice Lester) Kirk is reunited with a former romantic interest from his Academy days, the latter being attended by the former who claims that she is suffering from acute radiation poisoning which killed the others. Lester and Kirk reminisce about their shared time in training, Lester blaming Starfleet’s patriarchal culture and sexism for halting her career progression and activating an alien technology to Freaky Friday their life-entities and switch bodies, with Lester as Kirk taking command of the ship and remanding Kirk as Lester to sick bay. In a course of events that are a carefully constructed indictment against Lester’s ambitious takeover and a tribunal ensues to declare Lester unfit for command with the imposter Kirk pushing back against this mutiny. Eventually the crew realises that the captain is not himself and the two personalities are once again swapped with the alien artefact. Dismissive of Lester’s hysteria, the final lines of dialogue, spoken by Kirk restored in his own body are “Her life could have been as rich as any woman’s—if only… if only…” Poorly received by audiences and considered one of the worst episodes of the original series—though in fairness, the the show was cancelled prematurely and did not have the chance to complete its story arc as planned, critics found it to be misogynistic and playing into the prejudices and sexism that Dr Lester had sought to overcome.
Airing in mid-May 1978, we are directed, courtesy of Poseidon’s Underworld to another questionable but fun project inspired by Star Wars mania (see also here and here) in this ABC television special featuring the brother and sister musical duo with guest stars Suzanne Somers, John Davidson and Charlie Callas, who are abducted by aliens and beamed up to the mothership’s nightclub (there’s a lot of crossing of franchises here) and perform a medley of their songs and other disco standards in order to help the extraterrestrials deemphasise their focus on technological advancement and embrace love and art. Check out the synopsis at the link above with production notes and more publicity stills from the show and enjoy the playlist below.
Having known just a little about the development and integration of closed-captioning technology, we really appreciated this fascinating deep dive from Radio Lab into its history and struggle for equal access that followed, with accommodation, advances in hardware and software, representation and mandates all intertwined and informing one another, concluding with a reflection on how the process is being automated with artificial intelligence and how in training the machine, we ourselves are transformed through the collaboration. Of course the story didn’t end with triumph of accessibility through the above first demonstration, as the advances for the hearing impaired community were not widely accessible: most programming was not captioned and for those that were an expensive decoder was required as a television peripheral. The situation gradually improved and after the passage of the Americans with Disabilities Act, TV sets were required to include closed captioning technology and all broadcasts were mandated to include subtitles. A workforce of thirty thousand transcriptionists were at work to capture all stations’ content and in order to reach all of the growing market with the rise of cable programming, institutions providing the service turn to emerging voice recognition systems. These early versions were too bug-prone to be useful, especially for realtime applications and failed to keep pace with live dialogue, seizing up at the slightest accent. Researchers, however, discovered that they were more responsive and accurate with the voices of the trial participants, and soon one devised helping the computer by reading back the words in a steady, well-enunciated manner that it could manage. A team of voice writers across the States repeated scripted shows and news reports as they were aired and achieved a pretty good level of fidelity by 2003. Even with only their master’s voice, the programme still had its shortcomings and the voice writers developed a code of substitute words to clear up homophones and short prepositions, for example: echoing, “She has tootoo daughters inly college comma tootaloo period” would yield the yield the desired text, “She has two daughters in college, too.” Two decades on, the software has advanced to the point where it can transcribe instantly without the help of an interpreter and is improving with AI refinements.
One this day in 1984, as Damn Interesting informs, television game show contestant in front of a live studio audience, Michael Larson, netted an incredible and record-setting cash prize in excess of one hundred thousand dollars. Although eliciting anxiety from his fellow panelists and host, Larson’s winning streak continued despite risking it all with each spin of the big board, dodging ruin for an improbable thirty-six rounds before ceding his surplus turns. It was not, however, luck that resulted in this sizeable fortune but rather a calculated modus operandi, gleaned from a long history of side-deals and schemes, an ice cream truck driver who during the off-season poured through media for get-rich quick ideas—maximising his productivity with an array of twelve tv sets tuned to different channels. Eventually a new game show called Press Your Luck captured Larson’s interest, realising it paid out better than others and confident he could beat the odds, studied the behaviour of the supposedly random squares and (with the help of a video cassette recorder to advanced the board frame by frame and practising with the pause button as a stand-in for the buzzer) detected the limited patterns that the gameboard followed. There were no rules restricting card-counting of this sort and Larson kept his winnings but his proclivity for easy opportunities left him outsmarted by a Ponzi scheme involving real estate flipping, relieving him of a chunk of the prize money. In response to a local radio station contest that offered a prize of thirty-thousand dollars to any individual who could produce a dollar bill with a matching serial number—which seems to have vanishingly small odds of occurring—Larson, with some objection from the bank—withdrew the rest of the prize money as singles. Larson and his common-law wife spent hours sorting through the cash in hopes of finding a match for this daily call-in segment.
Having spent much of my life overseas after a rather cloistered college experience, I discover quite often that there are large segments of pop culture that passed me by though I suspect in a lot of cases not missing much. And while I usually don’t harbour a strong urge to dive deeper or entertain a re-watch, I do get a strong measure of satisfaction from reading glosses and specialised wikia and I find it comforting that such research and documentation has gone into even lesser cultural artefacts. One such television show I had no idea existed was this syndicated spinoff, which only lasted two seasons, concluding its short run on this day in 1997, I think just as it was finding its legs. The original premise of the series revolved around a mid-life crisis and subsequent disillusionment of the resident police officer whose beat was to patrol the Los Angeles waterfront, who decides to leave the force and form a detective agency, a la Moonlighting. The former cop is joined by his friends from Baywatch, including David Hasselhoff (previously), and most cases of the first series involve characters going under cover in order to infiltrate gangs and trafficking rings, including posing as a female impersonator to apprehend individuals harassing members of a drag troupe and being hired by a wealthy cosmetics executive to investigate his son’s falling in with a band of roller-skating bandits. After disappointing ratings, producers retooled the show to introduce a paranormal element (a la, The X-Files) with a monster-of-the-week format involving sea-serpents, murderous mermaids, spell books, possessions, re-animated Vikings, voodoo curses and time travel—the penultimate episode, which a temporal vortex transports the stars to the year 2017.
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synchronoptica
one year ago: a visit to the Aisch valley (with synchronoptica)
From the portmanteau of doodle plus riddle, Futility Closet directs our attention to the long history of minimal visual puzzles—first introduced in a therapeutic capacity as an exercise in creative thought—then syndicated and serialised as above by humorist Roger Price, whom co-developed the concept of Mad Libs and was a regular game-show panellist, in the early to mid-1950s with newspaper feature with simple abstract drawings that did not make sense or register without the caption, relatedly. The craze, leading to its own game show, was fuelled by public calls for submissions, including recognition and honoraria, creating one’s own in the same spirit of drollness. One of the more iconic droodles, “ship arriving too late to save a drowning witch,” was the title and cover art of a 1982 Frank and Moon Unit Zappa album—see also—which is owning to the interjection “gag me with a spoon” from the song “Valley Girl”—which may well have been fabricated.
Try making up your own.
synchronoptica
one year ago: assorted links worth revisiting (with synchronoptica) plus I am the Eggplant
Although a bit too old for the PBS game show continuation of the franchise—though I’d defy anyone to not declare the theme song from house band (“Do it Rockapella!”—inspired by “Been Caught Stealing” by Jane’s Addiction) an absolute banger, I do remember the original educational computer game, Carmen Sandiego, released on this day in 1985 by Brรธderbund software (whose catalogue includes Mavis Beacon Teaches Typing). Though upon reevaluation deemed edutainment, Carmen Sandiego and later incarnations were meant to teach geography in response to a significant portion of US children demonstrating a lack of basic knowledge when it came to the globe and atlas and questions were vetted and fact-checked by the National Geographic Society, a major underwriter of both the game and television version from 1991. The objective was for fledgling gumshoes of the ACME detective agency to thwart the organised crime ring of international art thieves headed by the titluar character using geography. The series was rebooted 2021 (see above) and Rockapella reprised their theme, though the production team criminally used another song. She’s a double-dealing diva with a taste for thievery.
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synchronoptica
one year ago: the lost mixtape (with synchronoptica) plus assorted links worth revisiting
The production team behind the difficult Netflix series Adolescence about incel culture has announced it will reboot the incredibly bleak Cold War mini-series Threads (see previously, see also), aired in 1984 that depicted Sheffield harrowed by a nearby nuclear strike. BBC documentary filmmaker Mick Jackson, behind the original screening will participate in crafting episodic drama which the network feels whose time has sadly returned four decades on.
Keith Houston of Shady Characters, who has just published a new book on the evolution of the face with tears of joy emoji (previously), reports on their repurposing as featured in a new streaming series (which we’ve started) that explores incel and misogynistic online culture through in-group coding. Such coopting is nothing new (see previously here and here) but the collective autobiographical vocabulary is noteworthy if not dispiriting, like using ๐ฏ for the prevalent idea that twenty percent of men attract eighty percent of women and thus the latter are blameworthy for their lack of success. Kidney beans are somehow also a part of the mansophere. In related news, Houston also highlights how all office chatter is the same and peppered with emoji—no matter the context or gravity—through the lens of the “Houthi PC small group”—which was not so small even before the accidental inclusion of a journalist into the war room—with reactions like ๐๐บ๐ธ๐ฅ and ๐ celebrating airstrikes and potentially compromising national security.
During a recent episode of The Simpsons (S: 36, E: 783), Homer pressures Bart to pursue a career as a celebrity disc-jockey, but the ensuing noise and chaos of the abortive effort lead to an irreconcilable rift with their neighbours the Flanders, Bart incorporating a sample of Ned’s complaint into the mix. The gang from The Hood Internet were behind the DJ’ing and also the end credits mashing up memorable Simpsons musical numbers including Do the Bartman, Dr Zaius, Mr Plow and the Monorail Song.
Born on this day in 1961 in Endicott, New York, writer, comedian, actor and sister of author and humorist David Sedaris, Amy Louise Sedaris. Disposed to making pranks and working as a waitress in a comedy club in Chicago, Sedaris toured with Second City’s company by the late 1980s, eventually moving to New York and joined with fellow member Stephen Colbert a fledgling cable television venture, Comedy Central, as a sketch artist, eventually given her own series, portraying a middle-aged woman, Jerri Blank who goes back to high school, based on her impression of 1970s era motivational speaker Florrie Fisher, a cautionary cult figure who lectured to students about her lurid past warning them about sex and drugs and falling under the influence of radical charismatics—a sort of scared straight scenario. More active than even, Sedaris has multiple roles, titles and accolades to her name.
As the autonomous overseas territory has been garnering some welcome and some unbidden attention lately with the US determined to annex the artic island and sending an entourage to engage in election interference and meddle with self-determination, Tedium presents a celebration of Greenland’s unique pop culture, informed but untethered from its history as a colonial dependency. From the first piece of cinema entirely produced on the island with a cast of local actors to the psychedelic, prog rock band Sumรฉ, critical of the Danish government, past policies of assimilation and an anthem for the independence movement, the national artistic output is couched on the struggle for recognition but also stands on its own outside of any context. There’s a coda linking back to the US vice-president through Richie Cunningham’s character enlisting in the army stationed at Ultima Thule—to get away from Happy Days—and director Ron Howard assaying Vance’s autobiography. Much more at the link above.
First eleased on the Spring Equinox in 1985 and marketed elsewhere as the most concise translation of the play-figure line, Pleasant Friends of the Forest Epoch System Animal Toy (ๆฃฎใฎใใใใชไปฒ้ใใก ใจใใใฏ็คพ ใทในใใ ・ใณใฌใฏใทใงใณ・ใขใใใซใใผใค・ใทใซใใใขใใกใใชใผ after the Roman god of the woods Silvanus), I recall that haunting refrain (the jingle now come home to roost again) from the commercials and never really understood the concept, having missed out on their backstory as presented in a cartoon series by Haim Saban exclusively on American family-friendly/evangelical programming networks a couple years after their debut. Now, however, we’ve occasion to take a peak into the rather elaborate lore and legacy, thanks to Happy Mutant contributor Popkin, who informs that there is a theme park in Osaka (see also) that gives visitors an immersive experience of the franchise, set in Shirubania originally somewhere in North America though later revised as Great Nature patterned off of Richard Scarry’s Busy Town with firmly middle class anthropomorphised hedgehogs, foxes, deer, mice, rabbits, raccoons, etc running successful local businesses or with professional callings with a certain 1960s aesthetic with their nuclear, four-member families that were never inter-species. The characters, despite the decline of the toyline has been sustained throughout with a series of video games (see above), theme-restaurants and making the discontinued family clans mascots for various corporations and events. Accessories sold separately.
Via the always stupendous Web Curios we are directed to a rather amazing resource that brings together thousands of live-streaming stations from around the world, covering nearly every country with dozens of free-to-air broadcasting for each. Point to a country and flip through the channels for a compelling glimpse of local reporting, talk-shows, soap operas, music videos and commercials with the obligatory home shopping networks. I’m not one to have television on in the background generally or with the patience to channel-surf but found this surprisingly absorbing and like a mini-vacation with a much broader selection than on hotel tv.
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