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Th-th-th-th-that's all, folks! - Blather. Rants. Repeat.
A Møøse once bit my sister ...
Th-th-th-th-that's all, folks!
Yesterday, I wrote about how organized bands of atheists are taking over the Sunday morning institutions of my childhood memories. Today, I learned that the Merry Melodies Memories of my Saturday mornings are now, effectively, gone:

Saturday morning cartoons are officially a thing of the past.


UNIDENTIFIED MAN #1: (As Porky Pig) That's all, folks.


No, really - that's it.


MARTIN: Since the 1990s, TV networks have been pulling the plug on the cartoon block. The CW Network had been the only one hanging on, until this weekend. Now you'll have to pass down to your children the stories of the good old days - waking at the crack of dawn, pouring yourself a bowl of frosted flakes and waiting anxiously through the commercials to see if Poppa Smurf would once again outsmart that wily Gargamel.

This being an NPR story, its comments of course brought out, not just the memories of these shows, but more than a few snarky condemnations of those Chocolate-Frosted-Sugar-Bomb-pushing, mind-controlling network capitalists that ruined America's kids by not exposing them to enough serious commentary from Eric Sevareid.

(He was a serious news reporter. You could look it up.)

Me? I rotted many a tooth and a brain cell on those mornings. As a virtual only child with older and generally indifferent parents, these shows were my early escapes into imagination, humor and a lot of very good music that I never would have been exposed to otherwise. By the end of the 60s, those aspects began to fade, the music becoming more four-four eight-bar pop, the messages becoming more adult-guided and "pro-social," but where the network new releases failed me, syndication on the local New York stations kept Bugs Bunny and Rocky the Flying Squirrel and a treasure trove of historical animation on the air and, to this day still much of it, in my head.

As for the ones I can't still remember by heart (and it's frightening how many I can), there's Youtube, which I find myself turning to every now and then for another sight of Bugs promising to "paste that pathetic palooka with a powerful, pachydermous, percussion pitch," or Bullwinkle solving the eternal mystery of the Ruby Yacht of Omar Khayyam. Most of these early cartoons were shown in cinemas, or on television in prime time, reaching adult intellect and not just feeding PC Captain Planet bullshit to the masses. (In at least the early days, the cartoon stars were as likely to be hawking cigarettes as Cheerios.)

Done in by "children's television" activists, but finally, more likely, by alternative video options from cable to games and by the soccer-mob socialization of kids' free time, the last outpost of these toons is now abandoned- and probably just as well, because the final-era episodes likely sucked. Fortunately, we got to share a lot of these memories with Emily, and I suspect there were at least a few classic moments from them that led her to her chosen career field in animation.

So even if we can't say that "We'll always have Paris," we CAN always remember, however regretfully, that we shoulda toined left at Albakoikie:

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fiddlingfrog From: fiddlingfrog Date: October 1st, 2014 12:47 am (UTC) (Link)
This reminds me; there's a great documentary on Netflix called "I Know That Voice" about voiceover artists. If you've got a spare ninety minutes it's definitely worth a watch.
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