Filmed at great personal somewhere off the coast of Ponape, this horrific Japanese Korean (thanks, Lori) video shows two of the unspeakable crossbreeds native to the area halfway through their mutation into Deep Ones, the alien aquatic servants of that most hideous of the Great Old Ones, the abominable soul-feaster Cthulhu.
Click Play if you dare!
(yeah, I thought we were a little light on tentacled horror lately)
Passed along from NagOnTheLake by Metro, here is a thoughtful autobiographical essay by Howard Zinn, a former soldier and current thought leader (what we used to call philosopher, before we decided that old words were old-fashioned).
Given the transition of Faceless Day into a new face for raincoaster, this seems like a good time to introduce this video by Franco-Canuck Mylene Farmer. It’s the first song that made me aware of her, and it only did that because of the awesome power of this particular video, which just happens to be near-perfect.
Sorry, my French is a bit rusty, but I think you get the gist.
Okay, maybe not, but reeeeeeeally close. You KNOW deep down in your heart of hearts that Eddie Vedder knows all the damn words to this song, as do you.
And the words, in case you’ve had tee many martoonies. Because, as we said, we know and you know and Eddie Vedder knows that you and me and Eddie Vedder know ALL the damn words:
Once upon a summertime
Just a dream from yesterday
A boy and his magic golden flute
Heard a boat from off the bay
“Come and play with me, Jimmy
Come and play with me.
And I will take you on a trip
Far across the sea.”
But the boat belonged to a kooky old witch
Who had in mind the flute to snitch
From her vroom broom in the sky
She watched her plans materialize
She waved her wand
The beautiful boat was gone
The skies grew dark
The sea grew rough
And the boat sailed on and on and on and on and on and on.
But Pufnstuf was watching too
And knew exactly what to do
He saw the witch’s boat attack
And as the boy was fighting back
He called his rescue racer crew
As often they’d rehearsed
And off to save the boy they flew
But who would get there first?
But now the boy had washed ashore
Puf arrived to save the day
Which made the witch so mad and sore
She shook her first and screamed away.
H.R. Pufnstuf,
Who’s your friend when things get rough?
H.R. Pufnstuf
Can’t do a little cause he can’t do enough.
H.R. Pufnstuf,
Who’s your friend when things get rough?
H.R. Pufnstuf
Can’t do a little cause he can’t do enough.
So yesterday, there I was surfing around the Net and posting fun stuff to Facebook (and why wasn’t I posting to my blog more than an amusing, if mindlessly felonious, internet quiz? you ask, for lo you are very perceptive. Because a blog post takes between 1.5 and 7 hours on this computer, depending on how it’s behaving, and clicking Share On Facebook takes about ninety to 180 seconds instead, and BTW the PressIt bookmarklet won’t work with this Windows 98 setup so I can’t post it to WordPress instead, that’s why thanks for asking) when I ran across this.
From the comments on the YouTube it appears that the Collectors later lost their lead singer and morphed into Chilliwack, or maybe their singer left and he fronted Chilliwack or something; all I know is, going from Kits Beach to Chilliwack is what’s generally thought of as a comedown, at least to those who’ve been in both locations. I mean, Chilliwack is very nice for a small town with condo metastises on the fringes, but one of these things smells like cow shit and one of them smells like ckOne if you know what I mean, and I think you do.
In any event (the pole vault? beaver eating? three day?) there I was…well, HERE I was, right here behind the keyboard, and I was wearing my purple sweatshirt. The one Lydia gave me. The one with Lydia on it, only Lydia‘s not purple (neither in person nor on the sweatshirt except in the spots where the transfer didn’t cover) Lydia is generally rather pale pinkish except on the sweatshirt, where she is white and green (which she never is, even after a heavy-duty Bacchanal not that I’d know anything about that) and, yes, a bit of purple.
So (t)here I was wearing my purple Lydia sweatshirt, watching Lydia Purple. I wasn’t actually sweating, but it would have been nice for narrative symmetry purposes I suppose.
And here it is, a Wet Coast version of Eleanor Rigby:
Spot the Vancouver locations: Kits Beach, the West End, the Pacific Centre atrium (who knew it was that old?), Planetarium, English Bay, and is that not Spanish Banks?
Lyrics and additional details below the jump: Continue reading
raincoaster 