You heard it here first...

...Sofia Coppola...

They Don't Write Them Like This Anymore.

Well, actually they do, and on a very regular basis. Same old crap in a new wrapper.

-=+=-

Pup and I have a weakness for old low-budget movies.



Young and vivacious Miss Joyce Manning, sister of Col. Glenn (The Amazing Colossal Man) Manning lives in hope that her brother did not die after being riddled with bazooka rounds and falling off the Hoover Dam, but is now footloose in Mexico. Alas, no one will believe her.

We now join her, Dr. Carmichael, Maj. Mark Baird and Sgt. Luis Murillo out in the Mexican boonies as they examine a giant footprint:



Dr. Carmichael awkwardly holds his foot out and ventures: "The foot that made that print was about ten times the size of a normal man. That would make him about sixty feet tall."





Miss Manning forcefully and hopefully interjects: "Glenn was sixty feet tall!"

As opposed to all the fifty-eight foot monsters running amuck in Baja California.

The movie goes downhill from there. Everyone seems to be afflicted with what I will call the Ho-Hum Syndrome. We've talked about this before. Yes, one man's entire physiology has been monstrously changed in ways previously undreamed of, turning science on its head...

But now the general response one of stumbling ennui coupled with a vague desire to know who is headlining the Sullivan show this week.

It's like a Bond picture.

HHS occurs on a regular basis in popular fiction. A recent example is in the second Spiderman movie. Semi-controlled hot fusion on a macro basis is witnessed by many. Instead of the entire petroleum price structure collapsing like a cardboard suitcase, instead of venture capitalists hiring bulldozers to plow their way though to throw trillions of dollars at anyone in the general vicinity, instead of the world blazing its way to a new and uncertain future....

We go get a slice, kick back on a bench and patiently await the next outrage by the latest superpowered mass-murdering fiend on the loose.

Look for him? Please!

We got a story to tell.

Sometime in the 1980’s

Sometime in the 1980’s (the decade of Reagan, Iran Contra, MTV, Madonna, "Thriller", Peter Gabriel music, and AIDS) Fred Van Housen (pictured above) made several voyages to the mountaintop villages of Machu Picchu (also pictured above). Apparently, during these trips Fred was revered by the local inhabitants as some type of Fire-God. It was there in Machu Picchu that Fred recorded his internationally best-selling song, “Sleepytime in ...”. In this recording, produced on a synthesizer by Captain Hogfat, Fred was accompanied by backup vocalists “Betsy and the Weiner-ettes”. Electric accordion was played by R. Srnoda. K-Car may have performed as well. (There is also film footage of musicians destroying a television by the highway.)

Following those experiences, Fred went on to sell insurance in Chicago. It was there that he unfortunately fell to his death from the top of the Sears Tower.

All hail Fred Van Housen! A true Christ in the 1980’s!

El nuevo principio.