Some musings on the Age of the Music Video.

While I experienced only minimal exposure to the hit music videos of the 1980s as a kid (I can't recall if my parents thought MTV a good influence on me before I was a teenager or not), I caught up on many classic 80s videos about ten years too late, I'm slightly ashamed to say, on VH-1, before that channel became grossly obsolete in terms of any style.
It was fascinating to learn, for one thing, that the Austrian-born pop artist Falco was not necessarily a "one-hit wonder." His smash single, "Rock Me Amadeus," of '86 or so, was followed up with a second video hit, a cover version in German tongue of the actual one-hit wonders After The Fire's 1981 single "Der Kommissar."  (Thank God, Falco never opted for "Rock Me Josef Haydn.")
What's unbelievable in my case is that I was never familiar with the video hits of ZZ Top until I saw them on VH-1.  The so-called "Eliminator trilogy," featuring pop rock's eternal hairy-faced triumvirate and their stylin' hot rod, was fully introduced to me in names and concepts no earlier than in the early 90s, when I saw "Gimme All Your Lovin'," "Sharp Dressed Man" and "Legs," the last of which is the most famous classic, and which I now have on iTunes.  That one, I believe, tells a modern Cinderella story that has to be seen to be understood.  I would say seen to be believed, but how many of you can believe me right now?
Later on VH-1 came a 90s breakthrough series: Pop-Up Video.  I really loved that concept, with its "popping" windows during classic videos offering scientific factoids and trivia about the making of videos and the celebrities in them, etc.  It redefined the videos I saw all before on that channel, even if it hardly redeemed VH-1 itself in the long run; I would've loved to see a Pop-Up Video special called "Worst of the 80s." It could feature, as one stinker, the video for Journey's song "Separate Ways."  Remember that one?  Gee, I'm sorry to hear you do.  It's actually a pretty good song.  But as for the video they made, any more cheese in it, all you'd need is the dried hunks of bread and you'd have fondue.
I largely missed out on the Age of the Music Video.  I saw some in the early 90s on MTV, but didn't exactly binge before the Age faded to nothing, with the onset of reality-based programs dominating the market; "The Real World," premiering in 1992, came to spell the beginning of the end for music videos as we knew them.  It's just as well, I guess; novelties come and go, and I never was a guy who believed in "bringing back" jack squat.  These days, all I watch on TV is DVDs, anyhow.

Reviewing a classic "South Park" episode.

One of the TV shows I have in iTunes is a vintage episode of the animated series "South Park." It's entitled "Roger Ebert Should Lay Off The Fatty Foods."
It's an effective lampoon of the original "Star Trek" series throughout, as Mr. Garrison's entire third-grade class suddenly find themselves craving repeated field trips to an evil planetarium.  Well, not exactly Mr. Garrison's entire third-grade class: Eric Cartman, everyone's favorite overweight little bigot, is campaigning to be the next mascot for Cheesy Poofs snacks in a TV commercial.  And, as is to be expected, you wouldn't believe some of the things he does to get ahead.
This episode is a bit more cleverly crafted than some of the others, perhaps because of its thorough "Star Trek" lampoon.  The character of Dr. Adams and his Planetarium (he pronounces it "Planet,-arium," because of a rare bone disease) bring opportunities for references Trekkies get about mind control and how Starfleeters succumbed in certain episodes to diabolical uses of it, uses that only Captain Kirk and Mr. Spock could combat.  And speaking of Mr. Spock as applies to this episode, the school counselor, Mr. Mackey, pays direct homage to everyone's favorite Vulcan with the "mind probe" whose scene they lift practically word-for-word from "Trek," although with additional, hysterical dialogue thrown in.
Meanwhile, there's Cartman going straight to the top in Cheesy Poofdom, showing off unabashed, in fact, crazy-as-a-bug talents, such as singing the jingle ("III LOOOVE CHEEEESY POOOOFS, YOOOOU LOOOOVE CHEEEEESY POOOOOFS...IF WEEE DIDN'T EEEEAT CHEEEEESY POOOOOFS, WEEEE'D BEEEE...LAAAAAAAME!!!  I'M TALKIN' NIGHT COURT IN IT'S FIFTH SEASON LAAAAAAME....HHHH..."), and, well, you get the idea.
BTW, the title refers indirectly to a fake constellation pointed out at the Planet,-arium...I mean Planetarium.

What Pincus fabricated.

(Just a heads-up: this joke I once heard deals with religious sects and has a vulgar punchline.)
Two Hassidic Jews in the Castle Hill district were complaining to their tailor, Pincus, about the hue of their suits.  "Pincus," said one, "the last suits you made up for us just weren't of a black enough cloth to define our faith.  What we need is the blackest, darkest cloth a mensch can possibly come up with."
So Pincus presented them with a certain kind of cloth and said, "See how black this cloth here is in color?  This is the kind of cloth nuns use in their habits.  There ain't no blacker cloth."
So the two Hassidic men agreed, and had Pincus make up two fresh suits of that very black cloth for them for a specific price out of their budget.  Later, those two men were walking the New York street, feeling somewhat confident in their new, black suits, but also a bit curious about them.  And it was soon that they spied a pair of nuns walking the other way from nearby a local convent.  Needless to say, these two Jews' curiosity was piqued, and one of them stopped to measure the blackness of the new cloth against the nuns' habits.
After they had moved on, the one of the nuns against whom he hadn't measured was a bit confused.  She asked her friend, "What was that about?"
"I don't know," said the other nun.  "That gentleman just held his sleeve against my habit, said some Latin phrase to his friend and walked away."
"What Latin phrase was that?"
"I think it was, 'Pincus fuctus.'"

A New Year, with new hopes.

Well, folks, a whole New Year has started.  Two Thousand One Nine.  At least according to the Christian calendar the Western world follows; it's a different number in certain parts of the world, like Israel or China, but no need to get technical.  The endless cycle has started once more.
I'm bringing new hopes to this year as well; still working on the adventure story project I've got going, which I won't disclose anything about just yet.  My previous horror persona of Ross S. Simon, I'm still leaving more or less moribund, at least except for a couple of things, though too trivial to call innovative in horror on my part, really.
I will, however, say that I'm getting kind of into the home stretch of the adventure story's first draft, and throughout most of this year, I'll work on editing it.  Finally, after I (most likely) pick up a willing agent to represent it, I'll tell people all about the project and the rights I have to it.  And you can't share them.  Nyah, nyah.
Wish me good luck.  The part of waiting is indeed always the most difficult.  And the pain of waiting for my adventure saga (that's right, saga) to be discovered will probably be intense.  If this all sounds crassly egocentric, what can I say?  Things like blogs and Facebook, etc. were more or less designed as great places to showcase one's own self.  I'll keep in touch.