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Saturday, February 19, 2011

The Venture Brothers - My Crazy Fandom

Following is an overview of the Adult Swim cartoon The Venture Brothers and, I think, compelling evidence as to why you, Friend of Mine, would very much enjoy it. 
Assuming, of course, that you are a qualified member of the mature audience for whom Adult Swim programming is intended - generally, 14 and up is the recommended age group.  Blah blah disclaimer blah blah bleeped cussing and grown-up themes blah not a great idea for kids, ok?

The Venture Brothers is part homage, part parody, hearkening back to the cartoon heroes of earlier days, especially those of Hanna-Barbera fame.  It tells the story of the "next generation" of good guys and bad guys and the spectacular failure of both to live up to the excellence of their predecessors.

First of all, like much of Adult Swim's lineup, the cartoon operates on multiple levels.  There's the superficiality of impossibly strong men, impossibly shaped women, big fights with big weapons.
But the dialogue.
The dialogue.
Ye who love pop culture references, prepare to drown.  They are numerous and snappy and you pretty much have to watch multiple times to catch them all.  It's the type of quick verbal humor that plays on collective cultural knowledge subtly - the kind that almost always prompts a delayed reaction, as you find yourself finally giggling over a joke about two jokes later in the conversation.  And when it isn't giving you pause when you hear Brock referred to as "Agent Topanga Lawrence," it pleases the ear with peculiar lines that are funny just for their weirdness.
"I like the cut of his jib."
"I like the cut of his hair."
Cardholder said one, Doe said the other...not really sure which is which.

And the characters!  The awesome juxtaposition of old-style pro- and antagonists with a more corporatized, bureaucratic present-day is BRILLIANT.  Marvel as I describe to you...

1. The Guild of Calamitous Intent
Often referred to simply as "The Guild," this is the largest and most prominent organization for villains within the Ventureverse.  Other such organizations exist - the Canada-based Peril Partnership is mentioned and The Revenge Society is founded by a Guild excommunicant - but the Guild is the forerunner in organized villainy, featuring a legislative/judicial body called the Council of 13 and headed by the Sovereign.  And like any entity that big, the Guild is awash in rules, forms, treaties and general legalism.  "Arching," a verb taken from the "archenemy" noun, is a fully regulated job.  Villains are assigned protagonists to arch and, while they attempt to partake in classic activities such as destroying the protagonist's home with lasers or killing the protagonist by slowly dipping him/her into a large cauldron of lava, there are limits to their abilities.  Case in point: Dr. Venture being able to stop his enemy, The Monarch, in mid-arch because of a doctor's appointment.  Basically, the overriding rules and regulations have made archvillainy a non-threatening, mundane job much like any other except that it involves thematic dress and accommodations.  For protags like Dr. Venture, the presence of an archvillain holds no fear or terror, but rather annoyance.

2. The Office of Secret Intelligence
When Dr. Venture's recently-freed twin, Jonas Jr., inquires with the Guild as to whom protects the "good guys," Watch and Ward condescendingly point him to the OSI.  Back in the day, the OSI searched for evidence of the Guild when it acted more in its intended vein: as a genuinely dangerous, secret band of vengeful aggressors.  Now, with so many treaties between the two and so much common knowledge and, in some cases, common members, the two organizations bluster at one another while committing few acts of...well, action!  The OSI, like the Guild, has become too big and too legalistic to be truly effective at much, although the true rough riders like Gen. Treister occasionally bust some heads and protect some justice.

Those are the big guys, supposedly pitted against each other.  Neither is nimble enough to cause any real problems, in the case of the former, or solve any real problems, in the case of the latter.  The real danger and intrigue come from defectors of both organizations (like "Revenge," whose name changes rival PuffPDaddyDiddyDirtyMoneyWhatever, and Col. Gathers) who tire of the sluggishness of the big names and strike out on their own.

And of course, there's the concept of the shifting or split identity.  Which, y'all know, fascinates me.
Yes ma'am I DID just link to my own blog, I am that narcissistic.
So many people in this show go through different stages, names, missions or pursue a life that diverges significantly from their strengths.

Behold the changes...

Sheila, the student --> Lady Au Pair, the beginner Guild villain --> Queen Etherea, Phantom Limb's second-in-command and girlfriend --> Dr. Girlfriend, The Monarch's second-in-command and girlfriend --> Queen Etherea again for a hot second --> Dr. Mrs. The Monarch, The Monarch's partner and wife.

Prof. Hamilton G. Fantomos, teacher --> Phantom Limb (after an accident), Guild-associated villain --> Revenge, founder of Guild-opposed Revenge Society.

Malcolm, orphaned trust fund baby and student --> Shadowman 9, Phantom Limb's henchman --> Henchman for several other Guild villains, including Joseph and His Amazing Technicolor Nightmare Coat --> The Monarch, Guild-associated villain.

Brock Samson, college football player --> Special Agent Samson, OSI --> Agent Samson, SPHINX

Hunter Gathers, male OSI colonel and mentor to Brock --> Hunter Gathers, ousted and marked for death by the OSI and, oh yeah, female --> Blackheart Double Agent (still female) --> Col. Hunter Gathers, Director of SPHINX and male again

And then there's Doctor Rusty Venture.

Or, should I say, "Doctor" Rusty Venture.

Even though the show is named after his twin sons, the show is a portrait of the unaddressed trauma, hypocrisy and pain of Doc's life.  Thaddeus "Rusty" Venture is the son of (actual doctorate holder) Dr. Jonas Venture, a towering Alpha Male of a bygone illusory age.  As a globetrotting superscientist and adventurer, Jonas divided his time between building and inventing amazing things and saving the world from the old-school Guild, back when it was actually something worth worrying about.  Little Rusty faced a classic rock and hard place: to be acknowledged and included in his dad's life meant being in constant danger, frequently kidnapped and often witnessing violence and debauchery, but to eschew this life was to be ignored by his father entirely, as the man was almost never home and when he was, cared little for Rusty.  Jonas capitalized on Rusty's appeal to his young fans by creating a cartoon show around him, thus solidifying his future as Always Trying To Live Up To The Past, either by scaling his father's shadow or fleeing the mini-scientist he once was that everyone assumed became a superscientist just like Dad.

Nope.  Didn't even finish college.  And isn't a very skilled scientist.  But he wears the "doctor" title and continues to attempt to operate Venture Industries with little success and often by means of questionable legality, like human cloning.  The constant drum of self-hatred grows even louder with the discovery and removal of his previously unknown parasitic twin, Jonas Venture Jr., who manages within months of escaping Rusty's stomach to earn two doctorates, run a successful techno-science empire and generally be the popular, smart son Jonas Sr. always wanted Rusty to be.  And so Rusty continues to struggle under the weight of trying to maintain a corporation he isn't qualified to run, reconciling a childhood he isn't emotionally capable of dealing with and chasing an ideal version of himself laid before him by the rest of the watching world that he knows deep down he will never actually reach.  He'll never even get close.

Ashley, you are way too obsessed with this cartoon.  You are way too obsessed with everything.  How do you even remember this stuff?

I feel like The Venture Brothers captures a feeling we all rather share today.  We look at the ideals of the past and of our predecessors, back when technology was different, work schedules were different, the culture was different, a high school diploma meant something different, and wonder what in the context of our culture will register as analogous.  Which ideals and goals do we form that our parents, our teachers, our mentors believe are ephemeral and stupid when they actually aren't, and which do they set before us that are actually no longer feasible?  And if we chase those infeasible goals based on times past, do we get irretrievably left behind in the wake of PROGRESS?  I hear this question in the grappling of teachers over how many internet sources to allow in research papers when print sources are dwindling fast, in the debates in churches over whether to purchase an acoustic piano that requires expensive maintenance in the name of tradition versus an electronic one with more diverse sound capabilities and in my own mind when I think about the onward march of machines and the interwebz and the future of intellectual property like music and written works.

I feel like this post has transcended the boundaries of what a single post ought to contain.  But it's my blog.  So nah.

I Am That Friend

As in, the one you can never really take seriously because she sends emails with subject lines like this...

Maybe someday I'll blog about the EPIC thing I did.  Or maybe I won't.  Jenna and Ashley's reaction will weigh heavily on that decision.

Wednesday, February 16, 2011

Tidbits

Here are my big thoughts for today:

1. My sister-in-law tried to warn me about this and I just laughed at the time.  Now I realize how much I took for granted as a single woman that people largely knew how to spell my name.  I got a "Rylee" or a "Reilly" maybe once or twice, but by and large people heard my name and their brains saw "Ashley Riley."  Nowadays, folks' minds are right blown by the large population of H's in my last name.  "Ashley" continues not to bother people so much, but "Whelchel" has been a problem.  Andrew was the first Whelchel I ever knew, so his came to be the default spelling in my brain.  When I see "Welchel," it's as jarring as seeing "alot" in print.  It just looks wrong.

2. Bypasses could be used much more frequently.  There are bypasses for big cities so that you don't have to deal with the heavily populated town if it's not your destination.  I hear tell they're building a Murrayville bypass, which is straight up ridiculous because Murrayville is roughly the size of a quarter.  But it would be great to have bypasses for other reasons...
School Starting/Ending Bypass (aka I'm Not Picking Up or Dropping Off A Kid!)
I Don't Care About The Parade Bypass
Showboating Tailgater Bypass (seen every 2 miles on major highways)
Post Office Bypass (sorely needed on Green Street)
Restaurant Row Bypass
Church Starting/Ending Bypass

Well, I started this entry because I needed something to occupy me while I e-chatted with a colleague and now that e-chat has concluded.  Which means I have things to get done!

Monday, February 14, 2011

Happy Valentine's Day!

I love youuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuu!

Wednesday, February 9, 2011

Lookit What I Found

Faintsy Italian ice cream that comes in a transparent plastic jar.  I had to get it for the design factor alone.

Now, why isn't the jar full in this picture?







That's why.

Saturday, February 5, 2011

Turning That Frown Upside Down

I had a sad dream last night.
As in, wake up and almost cry sad.
Feel like your psyche will be surely crushed under the sadness sad.
Dumbo's mommy singing to him sad.

So I got up (at 5:30 AM because my body has gotten used to getting up early again) and took some time to feel my feelings.  Listened to a song that described how I felt, wrote a journal entry with lots of psycho in it, just unleashed the full measure of my insanity onto paper.  It's funny how that process goes.  You blurt it all out and then you sit for a second, waiting to see if there's anything else floating around in there.  It's like getting sick.  You toss your cookies and then sit on the floor by the toilet for a few minutes, just in case it comes back.  Once it's all out, you feel your body begin to calm down.  Your muscles release and quit trembling and contracting, the sense of dread drains away.  In the case of physical sickness, you might drink a soda or eat some crackers to set matters to rights again.  For emotional sickness, you turn to things like Cute Overload or awesome notes you passed with good friends where you chatted about how people who get doctorates are not superhuman, as evidence by the fact that some of them tuck their ties into their pants and use poor grammar and can't play the piano. 

It took me a while to learn this.  Or perhaps it is normal to grasp this lesson in the early twenties.  I have this neurosis that dictates that I must learn everything sooner and faster than everybody else - it's yet another Right Answer that I must get.  Gifted Kid Syndrome, I guess.  Anyway, it has been helpful for me to view emotional health similarly to how I view physical health.  As a child and a teen I noticed how emotional outbursts earned me scorn and punishment and mistakenly extrapolated that those expressions, nay the feelings themselves, are universally inappropriate.  You can imagine how well this worked out.  Pushing my analogy to the limits of tastefulness, if you get sick and try to keep it all in all the time and never release, you will eventually explode in some fashion.  Something would happen, I would feel a feeling and then immediately be ashamed of that feeling, as if by just thinking it I was demonstrating how weak and immature I was.  Adults don't feel these sorts of things, right?  That must be true, because I get reprimanded when I talk about feeling this way (read: even an effort to get me to "look on the bright side" struck me as a reprimand...GKS again).  I remember hearing about journaling and about letting feelings out from preachers, teachers, counselors and such, but it didn't stick for a long time.  I think part of the reason was because I also love to write and whenever I sit down to write, my inclination is to write for an audience.  Which, of course, defeats the purpose of journaling - it causes you to stifle the most intimate and perhaps distasteful of your thoughts.  Now, I'm finally learning that balance.  It has helped me view my emotional nature as an asset that furthers my creativity and enriches my relationships, rather than as a Mark of Cain that made me Immature.  I do wish I had learned it sooner.  I hope I can model it for my students and my children and spare them some of the embarrassment, frustration and self-hatred I felt as a teen.

I feel like I keep returning to this over and over again, but I suppose we all have thorns in our side and lessons that we have to learn multiple times.  Takes 21 repetitions for something to become a habit, right?  This introspection has caused me to look at other facets of my life that have changed and have made me very thankful for all of my experiences.  My life thus far has taken me from trailors, Spam, Clorox-chlorinated pools and mix tapes to yoga, coffee, Perrier and Schoenberg.  I love this home that Andrew and I have fashioned, I love these friends that God has given me, and I love this life.  Even when I hate it, I love this life.