A man for all seasons

 
A little old-news-news factoid I just learned to (hopefully!!) brighten up your Monday:

No, actually two factoids.

#1:
The artist known as Seal actually wrote the theme song to the 1987 animated series, Duck Tales. According to Seal, most of the lyrics were already written when he was asked to write the song; he claims they came to him in a dream that was "a lot like Blade Runner, but with these little ducks who were wearing clothes." The characters of the Beagle Boys*, in fact, were written into the series based on imagery from Seal's dream. In Seal's own words: "They were, like, three hairless dogmen always chasing me and my duckfriends. They were called Loneliness, Self-Doubt and Death, and they were always trying to get their paws on my crazy! I told the producer about these dogs, and he said, 'Seal, mate, we have to do this.'"

Also, while laying down tracks for the song, Seal reportedly punched the recording engineer in the face when the man asked what a "duck-blur" was.

#2:
We've all heard about Seal's run-ins with animal services and the Humane Society, but this bit had somehow escaped me. Maybe it's new to you as well?

After being videotaped dropping a mouse into a bucket of acid, Seal defended himself to the ASPCA by claiming that it was actually not a mouse, but a toad dressed up in a costume made of mouse skin, and that it had already been dead anyway. When questioned as to how the toad had died (and where the mouse outfit had come from), Seal reportedly became apoplectic, shouting "How do you think it died? How do you think it died? What did you expect me to do?", before pulling an object from his vest pocket and throwing it at the judge. While the thrown item was never found, both the judge and the court artist insist that it was either a live mouse or, taking into consideration the recent testimony, a toad dressed in a mouse costume made of mouse skin.

From the mouth of Ben Franklin

"If life gives you lemons, make lemonade. If life gives you ticks, make lemonade. But not before pulling all of your ticks off, taking care to fully remove any embedded mouth-parts."

That Franklin was some sort of genius-philosopher. And, keep in mind, this lil' sweet-mouth wasn't pulled from the racist, xenophobic rantings of "Poor Richard"—this is pure, unfiltered Franklin. That shit can give you cancer, but it's so smooth. Savor it.

Potter slips from the blazing world

I just ate a black grape sour jellybean. (Are those hierarchical adjectives? Fudge!) It was like eating the dark heart of a star. My mouth tastes like a chemical factory.

Speaking of the dark hearts of stars, let’s examine the recent behavior of one Daniel Radcliffe, a.k.a. Harry “the best boy” Potter.

The Boy Who Lived (and who eventually had sex with his best friend’s little sister) has been up to some distinctly un-Gryffindorish antics recently.

I’m not just talking about his nude scene in Equus, either. All the best wizards have to get buck now and again, probably to replenish their chi, etc. (I’m thinking of Gandalf specifically here, but no doubt Merlin, Dumbledore, Siegfried and certainly Roy all had their own NC-17 moments at some point.) No, I think we’re all mature enough to deal with a little exposed wand now and again. (I made that joke up in the first place, so keep all cries of plagiarism to yourself.) What first got me concerned, I think, was the arson.

We all bought the “er’buddy duz it in England” argument, I suppose, but now that he’s started with these hate crimes, I don’t think we can let that one fly. Who would have thought the little wizard could have so much hate in him? Wow. He sure does hate the physically disabled.

I don’t think we need to take it much further than that (and how could you?), but I did come across this probably-overlooked article (overshadowed as it was by “Boy Genius Sets Fire to Special Olympics”): it seems that D. Radcliffe, in his spare time, has been arranging “romantic” liaisons with older men through craigslist, and then publicly accusing them of pedophilia. When it was pointed out that, despite the outfits in his photographs, Radcliffe is well over the age of majority, he claimed that he was simply practicing a “shame spell.” He then indicated to reporters the finger-shaped bruises on his upper arms, and added “Abracadabra!” By and large, the journalists were not impressed.

What gives? What’s Lil’ Scarface up to? His agent claims that the behavior is simply a teaser for the plot of the next Potter film, but I had the book read to me, and I don’t recall any part in which Harry Potter tries to lock a blind couple in a freezer.

I’m more inclined to think that what we have here is yet another case of Gary Coleman Syndrome. The fading of childhood comforts is more than some personalities can bear, and the resulting anxiety is released in often violent outbursts. (It has been argued that Coleman was also mourning the loss of his career, but I disagree; anyone could see that he had a bright future of autograph signing and local television advertisements ahead of him.) Look at Mike Tyson, if you need another example. When The Dynamite Kid suddenly became The Strongest Man in the World, suddenly we were seeing ear-biting and children-eating.

I’m afraid that if we can’t somehow figure out a way to reverse Radcliffe’s aging (hormone therapy?), he will soon be on the road to punching women in shopping malls. That would be a tragedy, to say the least. Please write to your local Warner Brothers rep, and encourage them to take action.