In a summer season crowded with super heroes and big-budget blow 'em ups, how does a long-lost franchise break through the marketing clutter? No, not Indiana Jones — is there anyone who doesn't know that's coming out? (Plus it has a Cannes premiere, for whatever reason.) And I'm not talking about Sex and City, which has every media outlet indulging in all the fashion and relationship brouhaha that swirls around it.

I speak instead of intrepid FBI agents Fox Mulder and Dana Scully, who have long since faded from our TV screens. While the show went off the air in 2002, for many fans it ended two years previously when David Duchovney started curtailing his appearances. I had been an avid fan but lost interest with the convoluted, going-nowhere mythology, and once Mulder was gone I transferred my allegiances to a young Sydney Bristow. I never even saw the finale. A movie came out, which I recall had something to do with bees, and is now mostly referenced as a cautionary tale for Lost on how not to wrap up a series.

With so much baggage — and indifference — The X-Files has embarked upon a brilliant stealth marketing campaign to get people talking about extraterrestrials again, with the aid of some very heavy hitters.

First the Vatican weighed in, out of nowhere, professing a belief in aliens. "In my opinion this possibility (of life on other planets) exists," said Rev. Jose Gabriel Funes, the head of the Vatican Observatory and a scientific adviser to Pope Benedict.

"How can we exclude that life has developed elsewhere," he told the Vatican newspaper L'Osservatore Romano in an interview in its Tuesday-Wednesday edition, explaining that the large number of galaxies with their own planets made this possible.

This from a church who didn't get around to admitting that Galileo was right about the earth revolving around the sun until 1992.

Then on the same day Britain's Ministry of Defense released their files on UFO sightings, dating back to the 1970s, with more to come. The ministry said it compiled the reports solely to determine whether enemy aircraft had infiltrated British airspace. "The Ministry of Defense has no other interest or role regarding UFO matters and does not consider questions regarding the existence or otherwise of extraterrestrial life-forms," it said Wednesday.

A coincidence, as easily explained as weather balloons reflecting city lights, or evidence of viral marketing is out there? It's a conspiracy I want to believe.

Labels: aliens, conspiracy theories, movies, religion, X-Files

Unfortunately, no one can be told what the Family Guy Matrix mashup is. You have to see it for yourself.

Labels: Family Guy, mashups, Matrix, YouTube

Roof Sex is a short, stop-motion animation film that is intensely graphic, but probably not anywhere near how you might think. I went to the director's site — eatPES — looking for something else this just grabbed me. More cushion for the pushin', if you will.

Labels: animation, porn, short film, stop motion, YouTube

Sleevefacing: You can't do this with an MP3. First, dig up an old vinyl record (it's what music used to be recorded on and is made of... never mind, look it up or go ask your parents). Then pick out a piece of cool cover art (or sleeve, if you will) and start extend the scene.

I just heard about this yesterday and have already poured over 1,000 versions so far. That's not an exaggeration — check out the sleeveface page on Flickr, Sleevface.com and this how-to video on YouTube. Until you start posting your own, here are my 10 favourites:

Oh Billy, you were always a little glam. From Soulkombinat.


Sticky Fingers indeed. If the zipper had been down on that Stones album, I might be wondering where this was going. From Mateo329.


This one is so close that you can barely tell that there is an album in the picture. And who knew Iggy Pop could look so nice? From Tsjeu.


Love the Yo-Yo. Do you think Yusuf Islam still plays with Yo-Yos? That third hand is a little disconcerting. From Lynnifer.


You just know the hole in the ozone came from Babs using cans and cans of this stuff in the '70s. From delainey.


I really think Robert Palmer should keep his clothes on. It's just not the same without the suit. From rensenbrink78.


Nothing much to add here — just impressed with the integration of two people into the sleeveface. From carla_mabel.


No, Mr. Kristofferson, not the beard! Another from Soulkombinat.


The Man in Black has a gigantic noggin. A syringe too, but we knew that. From Professional Recreationalist.


Ah, Tina Turner's legs. Good enough. From See Gee.


Bonus sleeveface with Johnny Paycheck. I couldn't resist, he's drinking a 50! From Matt Wagner.

Labels: albums, art, mashups, music, sleevefacing

Indulging in a bit of nostalgia for my friend Dave Craig's old comic, Horovitz. Check out more over at Horovitz Central, where you can also sign up for a daily version. Share and enjoy.

Labels: comics, Horovitz

Sesame Street has always been able to attract some great singers to their neighbourhood — it's a recognition that kids like good music and their parents are likely watching with them.

Tristan isn't ready for this stuff yet, but I'm happy to hear that Feist will be reworking 1234 into 1234 Monsters Crawling ‘Cross the Floor as a duet with the Elmo in a future episode. Reminds me of Rebel L, Sesame Street's take on Billy Idol (that you can see following the R.E.M. song.)

Speaking of R.E.M., their rework of Shiny Happy People into Furry Happy Monsters was from the show’s 30th season and the role of Kate Pierson of the B52s was played by Stephanie D'Abruzzo of Avenue Q, which makes that much better.

"Come on monsters, you don't have to cry... we can be happy!"

Labels: R.E.M., Sesame Street, TV, YouTube

Pulp Fiction, as performed by the King's Men

ACT I SCENE 2. A road, morning. Enter a carriage, with JULES and VINCENT, murderers.

Jules: And know'st thou what the French name cottage pie?
Vincent: Say they not cottage pie, in their own tongue?
J: But nay, their tongues, for speech and taste alike
Are strange to ours, with their own history:
Gaul knoweth not a cottage from a house.
V: What say they then, pray?
J: Hachis Parmentier.
V: Hachis Parmentier! What name they cream?
J: Cream is but cream, only they say le crème.
V: What do they name black pudding?
J: I know not; I visited no inn it could be bought.

From Kevin Pease, with my shoddy Photoshop work.

Labels: Pulp Fiction, Shakespeare

Ever wonder where old cereal mascots go once they are no longer in demand? Of course you do. Seems they don't disappear, but slowly fade away in the wood-paneled, shag-carpeted rec room of artist Rob Sheridan's mind.

So long Franken Berry, Trix Rabbit, Count Chocula, Cap'n Crunch and Tony the Tiger, sugary breakfasts just aren't the same without you.

Labels: Cap'n Crunch, cereal mascots, Count Chocula, Franken Berry, Tony the Tiger, Trix Rabbit

And none of them look the same. I've been slumming around the house sick for the past three days and took it upon myself to get craft, but in a pop culture way of course.

Cubeecraft has a fabulous collection of cutouts of animation and video game characters that you can print out at home and stick together with tabs (no glue or anything). I'm working on the Dr. Zoidberg but have realized I need to print it on thicker paper stock. I'll post a pic if I ever complete it.

So bookmark Cubeecraft, there's a new character every week.

Labels: art, crafts, Dr. Zoidberg, Futurama, Ghostbusters, Halo, Star Wars, Strongbad

One of the best of the fan-produced "Sweded" versions of films, based on the process in Be Kind Rewind. I'd say these videos are becoming more popular than the film itself.

Snacked has put together an extensive list of Sweded movies, or head to Be Kind Rewind's YouTube page.

(I'm actually on vacation right now. This post brought to you by the miracle of Blogger in Draft's Scheduled Post Publishing.)

Labels: movies, parody, Star Wars, sweded, YouTube

Seeing cartoons characters as they would like in real life is, well, disturbing. This photo-realistic Homer Simpson is from jaxpixeloo, and I would run in terror from him if I were to see him on the street.


Good news, everybody! A realistic version of a few of the Futurama cast, from Dylan Marvin. I think the year 3000 would be... all glory to the Hypnotoad.


A realistic Wile E. Coyote (Road-Runnerus Digestus) and Roadrunner (Accelleratti Incredibusc) wouldn't be so bad, but the Acme products would be devastating. From an old Fark contest, where there are many other examples.


Michael Paulus also takes the concept of real cartoons but approaches it from a whole other angle and showing the skeletal system of 22 different characters. Wonderfully odd.

(I'm actually on vacation right now. This post brought to you by the miracle of Blogger in Draft's Scheduled Post Publishing.)

Labels: cartoons, Charlie Brown, Futurama, Roadrunner, The Simpsons

Another cool piece of typography, which appears to be a fascination of mine these days. I love seeing what can be done with words and am jealous as I wouldn't be able to do it myself.

The t-shirt isn't much of a spoiler, unless you are a pop culture shut-in. It's more hipster irony and another in a series of t-shirts that would be cool to wear if I still did that sort of thing. Get it here. Artist Olly Moss has a wealth of other cool designs as well.

(I'm actually on vacation right now. This post brought to you by the miracle of Blogger in Draft's Scheduled Post Publishing.)

Labels: movies, spoilers, t-shirt, typography

After discovering that Cracked had revived themselves as a generally amusing online site, I wondered if MAD had joined the online world. Not so much, it seems.

But then I came across a New York Times profile of cartoonist Al Jaffee, he of the infamous fold-in. Even though it went against every my every fiber to "wreck" the magazine, I did it anyway.

The profile includes 23 flash-based fold-ins from the 1960s to the present and the lines match up perfectly.

Labels: Al Jaffee, fold-in, MAD

Guest poster Kyle Murray describes a transcendent evening with My Morning Jacket @ The Berkeley Church, March 31, 2008

Having no idea what to expect, I showed up with a couple hundred of Toronto’s hippest, to catch this larger than life band in an amazing venue. Waiting in line to get in and to make sure my name was actually on the list, I watched as people try to bribe and/or plead their way in. Had some of these people not been so adamant that they had to attend, I may have mentioned that I had one extra spot to give away. It’s difficult for me to get my regular concert going friends out on a Monday night. So when the unassuming, polite guy walked up to me, standing by my lonesome and asked if I had an extra — I told him to get in line with me.

Through the security checkpoint and into one of the coolest setups I’ve seen in a while. The stage was small, a velvet rope showed us where we could stand and we were surrounded by about a half dozen high definition cameras. The whole show was being taped for a Sun TV live concert series; I stood at the front behind the Steadicam guy. The crew taping the show was ridiculously professional, never in the way and it actually looked like some of them were enjoying themselves.

The band exploded on to the stage, commented on the beauty of the venue; even pointing out that the widow’s watch opening above us was where our souls would be headed that night. They weren’t wrong. If anyone had a bad time at that gig, it was their own doing. My Morning Jacket played for over an hour, mixing songs from their upcoming album with different versions of some of their classics. The 21-year-old girl next to me was dancing just as much as the 40-year-old dude behind me. Coats began hitting the floor, beer bottles got stuffed in denim back pockets and we were all happily bumping into each other. When the hair started whipping around on stage, the audience reciprocated. The energy level was amazing.

When I thought the grin on my face couldn’t get any bigger, the head honcho Jim jumped off the stage just inches from my face. The cameramen scrambled and it looked like the velvet rope wasn’t going to contain us, but the vibe had been so great for so long I think we consciously decided as an audience to not push, to just enjoy.

All in all, it was a fantastic show. My only complaint would be that there was only one type of beer being sold and it’s not one I would normally buy. How’s that for a complaint? I went to a concert at a church and pretty much had a spiritual experience, that’s pretty cool.

— check out Kyle's regular gig, Six Pix over at Cuzoogle.

Labels: Kyle Murray, My Morning Jacket

Evolution takes its next logical step. No more jokes about penguins not being able to afford the airfare.


Gmail Custom Time? I would use this function daily!


Looks like this one isn't actually a joke, though it probably should be.

As Mr. T says in the story: ‘All these suckers with their fancy powers! They need a reality check, and only one guy can do that, and that’s me, Mr. T! Ain’t no difference if they’re a vampire, a dinosaur, a mutant, if they’re doing wrong, then it needs Mr. T to set things straight with a swift right!’

It would hardly be the first time either, as evidenced by Mr. T vs. Everything.

Labels: gmail, March of the Penguins, Mr. T, YouTube

So now even books have advance trailers? Well, it's working. This is one of the coolest pop-up books I've seen, but I think it will be some time before I'd let Tristan get his hands on it — it would be demolished in moments. Think of it as a kids book for adults. From graphic and book designer Marion Bataille, it is another example of typography brought to life.

Labels: art, books, pop-up, typography, YouTube

Are farts funny? Canadians once seemed to think so and the country's finest contribution to flatulence is the invention of the whoopee cushion.

We're an odd country sometimes, always taking pride in the oddest of things: annoying singers (Céline Dion, Bryan Adams, etc.), over-the-top comedians (Jim Carrey, even though I think he is getting U.S. citizenship) and fake breasts (hello Pamela Anderson!). But now it has been discovered we are the inventors of fake farts too.

I feel strangely proud of that. And here I thought our biggest fart joke was Terrence and Philip.

Labels: Canuck, farts, South Park, whoopee cushion

Who would have thought the original cast of Star Trek would turn out to be such a musical bunch? Likely no one, after the spoken-word stylings of William Shatner and the unintentionally hilarious Leonard Nimoy.

Still, that hasn't stopped George Takei from joining their ranks, not with an album but as a country singer on the upcoming Secret Talents of the Stars on April 8. Yep, CBS is essentially reviving Circus of the Stars and everything old is new again.

Seeing as we will soon be hearing Mr. Sulu's dulcet tones, why not a review of what has come before? Most people, when they think of Shatner and music probably think of his over-the-top rendition of Lucy in the Sky with Diamonds. While it is a camp classic, I've always been more partial to his interpretation of Elton John's Rocket Man at the 1978 Science Fiction Film Awards.


I actually listen to that one voluntarily — it has a way of growing on you. But Nimoy? Not so much. Highly Illogical is painful, but at least this video does a passable mash with some Trek episodes.



For even more on the song stylings of the Trek casts from Next Generation to Voyager, read The Collective's Star Tracks - Trek Stars Sing.

Labels: Leonard Nimoy, Star Trek, William Shatner, YouTube

The Righting Wrongs Dream Team: Jean-Claude Van Damme, Sylvester Stallone, Bruce Lee, Jet Li, Steven Seagal, Charles Bronson, Chuck Norris and Clint Eastwood.

Looking at it will likely result in some sort of roundhouse kick. From Upper Playground via Film School Rejects.

Labels: Bruce Lee, Charles Bronson, Chuck Norris, Clint Eastwood, Jean-Claude Van Damme, Jet Li, Steven Seagal, Sylvester Stallone, t-shirt

In the harshest place on Earth, the 30-Second Bunnies find a way. It's been awhile since I've linked to my furry little friends, but their mini-version of the March of the Penguins did the trick. Somehow the travails of the little suckers seemed a lot less grim and austere when whole cycle whips by in a blink of an eye. Be sure to indulge in the whole archive over at Angry Alien. Coming up later this year: Goodfellas. I can hardly wait — it should get a full minute.

Labels: 30-Second Bunnies, March of the Penguins, penguins