Wednesday, Dec. 23
Is it okay if I play Wolfenstein the rest of the night?
No?
Man, you guys are stern. Drop a few sheckles in the kitty and you think you OWN the place. Well. A few notes:
My AM tweet was not a fib: I did dream I was holding a docile bunny while studying a pizza box that had a trivia question about Paul Frees’ ethnicity. It asked whether he was Jewish. I have no idea why my brain asked that question, or why it thought it belonged on a pizza box, but that’s what floated through my brain as I woke. I made coffee and checked wikipedia to see if he was. This is the modern world: you can instantly fact-check your dreams.
There is a Christmas Diner. Heartworming! Bad Christmas music is a constant joy, and there’s so much of it. Much of what I used to detest I now enjoy for its swank, but the sappy stuff about little one-legged Johnny wanting a kneecap for Christmas is deserving of our genial contempt. One of the commercials was lifted from a 1974 CBS newscast, which should be the subject of an audio documentary here some day; the news is unrelentingly bad, and the ads are all disco-tinted krep or jokey-folky spiels with Mason Adams. You can get it here. (The iTunes link is problematic for the moment, since a database corruption seems to demand I re-up everything. Which will take forever.) That’s what I spent free time on Tuesday night, so yes, the Bleat she suffers. How she suffers.
Stop by tomorrow for some Christmas messages from Jerry on the Job. I don’t think I need to say anything more.
Stop by Friday for a special Christmas greeting from Casper Milquetoast, which coincidentally kicks off the site devoted to his cartoons.
Stop by the Strib Blog for more Shillin’ Santas, culled from 1925 newspapers.
I love this cartoon: Like rain freezin’ and thawin’ betwen your bricks year after year.
Thank-yous have been delayed until I figure out the password stuff for UltraBleat, but it’s coming right after New Year’s Eve. I appreciate your patience.
Tonight I helped my wife find a good Swedish Meatballs recipe on the Internet. At the same time her mother in Arizona sat up straight in a chair, dropped a book, and began to weep without quite knowing why; later she could only say she had believed some things were passed along genetically, but had come to doubt whether this was so.
The secret ingredient is some sort of viscous soup, added gently at low heat until the mixture attains the color of the tongue of a man bitten by a rabid pair of beige khakis. Add salt.
Why we have Swedish Meatballs, I know: they’re delicious. How it happened that we have them I do not know. Couldn’t tell you when we started. As a kid we always had Swedish Meatballs after church on Christmas Eve, before we started opening presents; now we have Swedish Meatballs after church on Christmas Eve. BUT we open presents Christmas Morning. At some point I made us shift to Morning Unwrapping, simply because it attenuates the anticipation and keeps the Day itself from being a long quiet grind of puzzles, walking around the house saying “well,” and waiting for the afternoon repast.
Did you know AOL had a good news website? It does.
This is not part of that.
I warn you: while you will learn interesting things about the dress code of French meteorologists, it begin with a retina-searing image that may well define for all time the concept of “mixed message.”
Later: I’ll get around to posting the Comic Sins, as well as Black and White World, Christmas Edition.
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Re: “Good News Week”: What the HELL, people!
I’m sorry, but I just don’t get Achewood. I don’t see anything funny, and I don’t see any great perceptive social commentary. It’s Gary Trudeau’s Doonesbury with 63% more dark cynicism and only 40% of the artistic talent.
BTW, I think Trudeau is a hack who ran out of ideas in 1981, and that’s on his good days.
Christmas Eve supper is my favorite meal of the year! Swedish meatballs, mashed potatoes, green peas, leftse, melted butter, and orange roughy (cause there is no lutefisk in Hawaii). Dessert is a Buche de Noel.
Kids get us up to open presents on Christmas morning. Mass at 11 am. Life is sweet.
Good News Week: Great, now I have to go bleach my retinas…
Swedish Meatballs: What there’s no “Old Family Recipe” that’s been handed down through generations like a priceless heirloom? Oh the shame!
Yeah, him and the guy who does “Funky Winkerbean.” Lamest. Comic. Ever.
When I look at the comics section of newspapers today, the only thing I can think is how much I miss ‘Calvin And Hobbes’.
If the message of that ‘Achewood’ comic is that TV is terrible, then people should try this channel I’ve discovered called ‘Off’. It must be a very popular channel because it has its own button on my remote control. There isn’t much to watch on ‘Off’. In fact its just a blank screen 24/7/365. But, it’s the most intelligent programming currently playing.
Regarding French weather people dress codes, I think in Russia one of their channels have topless evening news, or had it, don’t remember.
Sorry, can’t focus on Bleat. Elf creeping me out. Elf must die! Die Elf Die!
It’s not an elf!
It’s a Jingle Pixie.
Freaky.
I’ll defend Achewood, particularly from the odd charge that it’s a social-commentary/political strip. The strip our host linked to was about as heavy into the SC as Achewood ever get. Mostly it goes for involved story-arcs and personality-driven dialogue, what Lore Sjoberg called the verbal profile of each character. It’s definitely a strip for writers.
Funny, my copy of “Good News Week” doesn’t have anything in it about birth control, but there _is_ a line about butchering the “sacred cow” absent from this take. Swap one dumb lyric for another — that’s why the hedgehoppers are still anonymous.
The best comic strip by far is “Cul de Sac” by Richard Thompson. It is as good, I think, as “Calvin & Hobbes.” The link to Thompson’s Website is:
http://richardspooralmanac.blogspot.com/
Want a good comic? Day By Day if you’re into the political; Girl Genius for pure unadulterated steampunk mad science with zeppelins.
I miss Calvin, too.
Memories of the early internet: in 1995, AOL tried to enter the non-gated-community internet service area by debuting something called “GNN”, or (IIRC) “Global Network Navigator”; I was a beta-tester and had free internet for a few months. Subscribers were eventually turned over to Pipeline, who then turned customers over to Mindspring. Looks like AOL has held on to the domain name for fifteen years and finally found a new definition for the acronym.
Oddly enough, I never did believe in Santa because my family always opened presents on Christmas eve night, right after coming home from the evening church service. Can’t have the Santa paradigm if there’s no chance for him to deliver overnight.
We were not wrapping paper savers even though my mother is a Depression-child Iowa farm girl. I do, however, recognize in yesterday’s photo the tree ornaments with the horizontal stripes as ones that we had on our family tree also. Their background color was dark red.
Traditional Christmas Day dinner, then and still, is Roast Beast with yorkshire pudding. My sister and I make it now at our parents’ house. Looking forward to doing it again this year.
I second the vote for Cul de Sac / Richard’s Poor Almanac(k). One of the few comics that is actually funny. Been a WaPo fan of Richard Thompson for years.
Wagner with the droopy pants:
Good News Week in the US was edited because of the reference to birth control. Wouldn’t play well on 1960’s AM radio. Butchering off the sacred cow was more acceptable.
That’s the British/Australian version.
Good News Network- Must. Rip. Eyes. Out.
Lord, how I miss Lefse. Hot off the griddle, melted butter. (sigh)
Diner – My christmas is complete. Must know the artist/title of the Wise Old man Oh ho ho ho Good old San-ta song. Anyone have a clue?
Ditto on the Swedish meatballs for Christmas Eve here. With fish chowder. Opening Christmas gifts on Christmas eve has always been heretical in my house. Begged, pleaded with Dad to open just one the night before. Nope, never, can’t do. Now my kids do the same thing, of course. And my answer is, of course, the same.
All good Lutherans enjoy swedish meatballs. Nobody knows how to make them, I figured they got “miracled” in to the church kitchen.
I miss them, it’s been thirty years.
On the serious topic of hottie weathergirls and sexism, this: http://hubpages.com/hub/Weather-Girls. I came from a family of Christmas Eve present openers and married a Christmas morning opener. We compromised and let the kids (and me) open one present on Christmas Eve. And while we will have the traditional ham/turkey Christmas meal with her family, this year we dispense with the prime rib on my side of the family and start a new tradition: mountain oysters.
Abruptly shifting subjects here:
It is never a good idea to play back one’s dreams aloud, but when I got to the part about putting it on the Internet, I thought: bingo. THIS is exactly why I don’t want to give money to this website. I just don’t want to pay for exhibitionism.
Even when the exhibits are mostly good. Certainly I believe that, since I read the Bleat every day. (But not all of it. I skim the mall stuff and the Disney stuff, and I skip the adult-electronic-toy apostrophes. Thank God I saw Carhenge and Wildflower Hall, and Fort Good Hope and Maputo too, BEFORE there was anything like the Internet to put them on or take them off of, or any compact apparatus to help one do either.) Much of life does not belong in the ether, and even if it is lovingly placed there, I’ll leave my wallet undisturbed while I consider it.
I think our host knows this. He does plainly mark the Bleat as “dashed-off tripe,” which it isn’t, but this is a message all the same. I’d rather support the guy by buying a book of his. He could write a lot of great novels. I suppose he already is doing that, and the Bleat is sort of a test-bed for them. In that case, it’ll be the mother lode for all the masters’ theses that will inevitably be written about those novels. But that is ANOTHER good reason not to pay for the Bleat. Sorry to be a party-pooper, especially since I’m being given FREE space to do so, but I felt I had to mention this.
It’s Jingle Pixie! A virtual Christmas tradition. Give Jasper a frosty paw on me!
exhibitionism? on this website? pshaw.
get a good look at T H I S !!
see, it doesn’t play well.
@Azrael Brown
It’s a small internet after all. I was in the GNN beta test as well. I rather liked it, and remember being pleast that finally I could post on usenet without being flamed for being an AOL’er.
@Baby M
I concur – Day By Day is a fine cartoon, put then again, I have sort of a political bent to my perspective, and Chris Muir does amazing work. I’m happy to support him.
Another fine comic is from Minneapolis’ own Paul Taylor, Wapsi Square. Paul started publishing his comic online September 9, 2001, and I don’t think I’ve missed a comic in all those years. It’s been a delightful ride to follow its evolution.
We made tamales for a few years at Christmas, but once both our girls were past 3 years old, it seems as though time becomes an ethereal thing Christmas week. Since we bleed time this week, we started rotating the traditional Ham, Turkey, Prime Rib. Ham’s up again this year..
Thanks for the Christmas Diner!
The creepy old Santa ho-ho-ho song is Rod Rogers – it’s a song-poem classic. Someone sent in the lyrics and paid them to set it to music. The results speak for themselves. WFMU’s 365 project has more.
@Baby M
A big thank you for Girl Genius. I had run into the ite sometime ago but didn’t bookmark and, of course, all the people in my head couldn’t remember the name. This is due, no doubt, to a mis-spent youth
Ooops, here’s the s.
As far as I can remember that is the first time I’ve seen a picture of your lovely wife. Was starting to think you had an imaginary friend.
It appears you have done very well for youself.
Sorry, I just noticed I posted that under the wrong Bleat.
@Lileks
Should have known it was from FMU. Spent many a wee hour in my home state of NJ listening to the likes of R. Stevie Moore and Sri Darwin Gross. Thanks James!
OK, first let me say, I like ot cook. I enjoy trying new receipes and maiking things from scratch. I own a good set of pots and several good knives.
OK, with that out of the way, you can slave over a Swedish meatball recipe, and they might turn out to be good.
Or, alternatively, go to IKEA, buy their house brand of frozen meatballs and the matching sauce mix. Bake the meatballs, make the sauce on the stove, and when you’re done, they will probably be as good or better than any Swedish meatball you have ever had, including the ones your 80 year-old off the boat Swedish grandmother made.
Regarding your opening comment: as one of those who sent you a few sheckles recently, please don’t think all of us who did so expect redoubled efforts from you in return. I sent a contribution in thanks for the years of enjoyment the Bleat has given me. If you never write another line, I won’t feel you’ve cheated me.
But if you do continue to write, I’ll keep reading. Promise.
_@_v – since our stores don’t carry the lutefisk i’ll be making homemade pizza for x-mas this year…
Mom always said, Christmas EVE was about Santa; Christmas DAY was about Jesus. Plus, we always gathered the entire extended clan — aunts, uncles, cousins, grandparesnts — at one house or another, leaving little time for muttering “well…”
James…you can play Wolfenstein all d*mn night if you choose. I know I did when it first came out.
That reminds me, I really should finish Fallout 3. Not sure why I stopped playing it.
Anyway…if I don’t get a chance to wish you Merry Christmas at the appropriate time, consider this it.
I cannot wait for The UberBleat!
[...] bet anything that Lileks found this when he discovered he still had a bookmark for it after all these [...]
I think it’s a great song and a decidely wierd video, slightly spoiled for me by the knowledge that Jonathon King was jailed in 2001 for sex with 14-15 year olds.
Our family always opened presents on Christmas Eve. We kids were ushered out of the living room on the premise that Santa Claus was arriving. I always wondered, why do all the adults get to see him??? I remember nervously trying to peek in the hallway mirror that reflected the living room, but terrified I would make actual eye contact with the man himself. And while I enjoyed opening the presents as early as possible, I always envied the kids who had something to wake up to in the morning. Now, we still open presents on Christmas eve with my brothers and sisters, but my kids have to wait until Christmas morning for Santa’s presents. Works out well.
And for a comic with a guaranteed laugh with no political agenda, read Pearls Before Swine. http://comics.com/pearls_before_swine/. Another strip that’s really growing on me is Scary Gary: http://comics.com/scary_gary/.
An, Swedish meatballs. To quote that famous philosoper, G’Kar, from Babylon 5:
“It’s an Earth food. They are called Swedish meatballs. It’s a strange thing, but every sentient race has its own version of these Swedish meatballs! I suspect it’s one of those great universal mysteries which will either never be explained, or which would drive you mad if you ever learned the truth.”