With a Jolt, My Mind Awakens…Chapter Ninety-One: Holy Sh*t, I Just Got to the Chapter Number that Covered the World in Grunge.

Eggs’re are cookin’ on the stove. Coffee’s brewin’ in the pot. Outside is gray and windy, kin, so here’s the advice ol’ Jay’s got. Stay indoors and allow YouTube to trap ya in a figure-four leglock with video-fried distractification. Reality’s a popsicle, slowly melting, so catch this madness before your grain goes the way of John and June in ’03. Don’t worry, friends…they’ll still be seein’ ya a little further on up the road, guitars in hands and redemption in their grips…

1. Bojack Horseman – new Netflix series, animated misadventures of an actor from a 90s sitcom who is living the Hollyweird dream of staggering on the outskirts of hipster reference as a halfway-to-nirvana writer ghost-writes his memoirs. Will Arnett voices the title character. Finally! Will Arnett in his ideal environment…heard and not seen. The humor of the show coincides pleasantly with a perpetually bleak outlook on the prospect of social evolution, a capful of ZzzQuil, and the permanent black marker of your choice. Lately, this sandwich has been the lunch of champions. Season 1 is a 12-episode-layered submarine of horseradish, pepperoni, and dysphoria (the good kind of dysphoria, the tragi-comic breeze that shifts the hairs of balding crankcases). I hit them all in one overnight joust, then I watched Thursday’s “Project Runway”. Apply, Rinse, Repeat…

2. The Great American Traffic Jam – TV land’s (the entity, not the network) late 70s all-star comedic response to the disaster movie craze. The movie is also referred to as “GRIDLOCK!” A weekday morning on the L.A. freeways turns into Parking Lot-palooza when a cockpile of auto mishaps clogs all the thoroughfares, and NO ONE’S GOING ANYWHERE! A guilty pleasure I’ve been chasing for many years since I saw a YouTube video for the Warren Zevon song “Gridlock” that featured clips from the movie, you will certainly require pen and notepad to properly document the sundry celebrity appearances and cameos. My favorite “droppin’ by” appearance comes from Al Molinaro, proprietor of the teen-age hangout in “Happy Days”, who plays a garishly-garmented spectator who purchases something like 10,000 hamburgers, french fries, and sodas for the trapped motorists. Ed McMahon rides a motorcycle, Abe Vigoda teaches the 2nd housekeeper from “Diff’rent Strokes” how to drive, Vic Tayback delivers a baby in the back of his cab, Cousin Oliver from “The Brady Bunch” strums a guitar, and the military very seriously delivers portable johns by helicopter to the tune of “Ride of the Valkyries”. I don’t care if you’re kosher – EAT THIS HAM.

3. A Full Hour of Bloopers from “Mr. Warmth” Don Rickles from a TV Show You Don’t Remember — The sitcom is entitled “Daddy Dearest” and yes, dear Borefare-ians, I do remember this sitcom, being one of the 13 people on this planet who was religiously committed to the program before its quick demise. “Daddy Dearest” debuted on September 5, 1993 on FOX Sunday nights at 9:30 PM, the coveted slot after the 9 PM powerhouse that was “Married…With Children” that was surprisingly hard to fill with a successful follow-up (RIP “Open House”, “Good Grief, “Herman’s Head”, “The George Carlin Show”, “Wild Oats”). As you can see from the clips, the Don Rickles-Richard Lewis combination clicked as resonantly as a “Spies Like Us” alum hosting a talk show. Rickles’ prickly demeanor and extemporaneous diatribes couldn’t be lassoed into the streamlined ice cube tray of situation comedy, and the program was brushed under the carpet after 10 episodes. The song remains the same: the bloopers are better than the show. Hey, if you’ve ever wanted to see Don Rickles battle a Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle or Richard Lewis being repeatedly struck in the noggin by a soft pretzel (although in one take, the pretzel missed the comedian and struck a certain famous movie cop in the chest), I have the montage that will fit your idiosyncratic requirements:

4. The Pre-Pieces of Shining Cuckoo Nest’s Days of Mr. Nicholson — Jack Nicholson had a rich body of cackling, crackling work before he took the last detail, axed a Scatman, and tried to teach an Indian how to throw a basketball. Watching “Psych-Out” and “The Trip” is really worth the…worth the…experience. Motherf*cker, almost wandered into a dogpile of bad pun there…scrutinize “The Cry Baby Killer”, “The Wild Ride”, and “Hell’s Angels on Wheels”, too.

5. *ahem* EVERY SINGLE EPISODE OF “THE REAL GHOSTBUSTERS“!!!!! ‘Nuff said.

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With a Jolt, My Mind Awakens…Chapter Ninety: He Who Eats My Falaffel Platter and Drinks My Carrot Juice Has to Contend With the Crack-Organized Internettageddon-Flecked Response That Could Not Be Articulated in the Workplace Alcove For Fear that Hellfire Would Stain my Sad Dog Sweater…

With a Jolt, My Mind Awakens…Chapter Eighty-Nine: My Opinion of Comic-Con is Summarized By Yonder Animated Imagery:


I hired the Yellow Cello to distract Wheelchair and Striped Leggings so the Hammer of Hate could impact without interference. Note the bag man on the right of the screen: he’s unaffected. Hope for the Future that they’ll all turn to ash and blow away? Jay drums his fingers atop his Brainiactacular Dome and ruminates…


Dig the swingin’ singles…and one partially obfuscated married dame. “Gilligan’s Island” turns 50 next month. Dawn Wells and Tina Louise are still dancing. Ms. Louise tried to distance herself from Ginger Grant after the show’s demise so she could enjoy extensive Hollywood success, but a bad attitude and the stigma that stuck like glue to most 50s and 60s TV icons that You Are Defined As You Are Syndicated avalanched her ascension.

Be warned, Cosplayers: arrive at my house and reap the Infinitely Irked Irritation of Matthau Undead:

This guy’ll stick ya, too.

Finally, please remember, children, if you cut off the head of Ming the Merciless, the head of Eric Roberts grows in its place.

With a Jolt, My Mind Awakens…Chapter Eighty-Seven: Pre-Holiday Birthday Shoutagrams are Delivered to…

Ol’ Jay’s headed to the Vineyard again for a week of oceanic expedition and caffeine injection (oceanic injection and caffeine expedition may, too, occur…), so pry open yer brain-containers and and scoop out a morsel of gratitude for these birthdays boys and girls:


Mil Mascaras, masked marvel and monster-masher of Mexican lore, the last of the “Big Three”, pictured above with the late Blue Demon and El Santo. Mascaras turns 72 today.


Jan-Michael Vincent (Stringfellow Hawke from “Airwolf”), pictured here with the late great Ernest (Dom Santini) Borgnine. Vincent turns 70 today…whoaaaa….a difference of only two years between him and Mascaras?!


Roky Erickson, founder of the 13th Floor Elevators, psychedelic rock trailblazer, Austin outsider, screamer of two-headed dogs, walking with zombies, and the Green Lion of my Voltronic Rock SUPERGROUP!!! 67 years strong, Roky!


Jesse “The Body” Ventura: pro wrestler, pro governor, provocateur…he’s the needle in the societal haystack that keeps sticking the gods in the rear to rattle complacency…63 years of instigating and infuriating…


Marky Ramone, the post-Tommy Ramone (RIP) drummer for the band…Hey! AOL! He’s not dead! He’s 58 years old! {AOL posted his image over the weekend when reporting on the death of Tommy — Angering On-Line: That’s AOL}



Willie Aames, who ran the pop culture tilt-a-whirl in the late 70s and 80s as Tommy Bradford (“Eight is Enough”), Hank (“Dungeons and Dragons”), and Buddy Lembeck (“Charles in Charge”) before donning the cowl and crucifix as Bibleman in 1990s…54 years old today.


Brigitte Nielsen, Red Sonja, villainess of “Rocky IV”, momentary corruptor of Stallone, would-be She-Hulk…51 years of stompin’ as of this date.


Adam Savage: buster of myths, illustrious skeptic, Deputy Marshal of Letsblowthingsupville…47 years and all digits intact.

With a Jolt, My Mind Awakens…Chapter Eighty-Six: The Inimical Ink Spilled During the Revenge of the Ghost (Artists) of Bob Kane

Long title, yeah, but it’s worth the read because I’m putting the artist spotlight on 2 Golden/Silver Age artists who lived in the shadow of the Batcreator but never escaped the recognition of the Batmaniacs: Dick Sprang and Sheldon Moldoff.

Dick Sprang illustrated Batman and Detective Comics for roughly 20 years, from 1943 to 1963. He was hired by DC Comics because Bob Kane was thought to be sucked into WWII, and Batman needed a relatively similar production that would not disorient the already rabid fanbase. Although Kane averted the frontlines, Sprang was kept on the payroll, hush-hush to keep Kane’s credit base from corroding. Sprang’s character design contributed to the set-up of the “Batman: The Brave and the Bold” cartoon that re-enfranchised (‘zat a woid? yeah, i gotz da badge, i spin the chambiz) the Batfans infuriated by “The Batman”. Dick Sprang also co-created the Riddler, ol Jay’s favorite Batnemesis, and introduced Joker’s Utility Belt, a story molded into two episodes of the Cesar Romero-ized “Batman” in ’66.

Glaze on this, Batloonies:


What do you reckon is contained in Darkseid’s Utility Belt? Chaos, despair, the captured screams of orphaned children, and pretzel stix…

The other Ghost Artist of Kane was Sheldon “Shelly” Moldoff, whose simmering dissatisfaction with being the true workhorse of Bob Kane’s signature was re-directed to the creation of sundry Batsupporters, including Ace the Bat-Hound, Batwoman (who carried a purse!), and the original Batgirl, as well as a fistful of Batbaddies: Calendar Man, Mr. Freeze, Poison Ivy, and the shape-shifting Clayface (the legendary one-panel incidental demise of “Crisis on Infinite Earths #12 back in ’86, an unceremonious deathscape shared with the Bug-Eyed Bandit).

Sheldon Moldoff drew the Caped Crusader and his Chronology until ’67, when he was released, perhaps due to the change in weather and attitude for the Bat-entity, radically re-configured by the TV show that, at the time of Moldoff’s departure, was starting to sprout some gray hairs. I still find it funny that I was always confusing the art of Dick Sprang and Sheldon Moldoff, somewhat similar senses to their approaches, but understanding they are both Eternal Ghosts of Kane, and also knowing their exploits are being celebrated, provides ample justification for this minor mindfart.


A red purse! Did you think I was kidding!?!? Continue reading

With a Jolt, My Mind Awakens…Chapter Eighty-Five: From Self-Satisfaction to Self-Destruction in 3…2…1…

Sun is shining. The heat is bearable. This miscreant’s gonna hit the SEE-ment pond today.

“Loiter Squad” and “Superjail” new seasons On Demand. Lassoed dem critters…all caught up.

Then the blazin’ red-hot Goddammitphone rings…and I answer:


Tommy Ramone: 1952-2014

Sun explodes in my punk rock collection. The heat fries my senses. Still goin’ swimmin’ but won’t shake out the excess water betwixt the ‘lobes.

AOL posts a picture of Marky Ramone instead of a pic of Tommy. Papercut City. Got Bad Religion on the horn. They’re on it.