Gloomy Funday!
Wednesday, June 14th, 2006I get distracted on the internet and end up researching bizarre topics with far too much gusto.
A passing reference on the commentary on The Bob Newhart Show Season 3 DVD (the rental of which was a consequence of another research project) had be reading about the McMartin Preschool Case, the longest court case in US history.
If you’ve seen Capturing the Friedmans you’re familiar with the idea… the two cases were both part of the 80s “Child Abuse Accusation/Repressed Memories” dance craze, bopping to the beat of shoddy police work and overzealous child psychologists. But the Friedmans case seems to have had some kind of basis (if the movie is to be believed)—The McMartin case was based on the accusations of a mentally unbalanced mom—who was diagnosed with schizophrenia and according to this article who had an “obsession with her son’s anus.” That article, a couple of pages in, describes the investigating psychologists using sexually explicit dolls and puppets to coerce confessions out of the “victims.” Really, really fucked up shit. Never run a day care center… especially if you find yourself in the mid-1980s.
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Today’s obsession is the urban legend of the “Hungarian Suicide Song” aka “Szomoru Vasarnap” aka “Gloomy Sunday,” a song written in the 1930s that supposedly causes people to commit suicide when they hear it. (I was searching for the most depressing song ever written.) When I finally tracked down an mp3… expecting ghouls to manifest in my room… I discovered I already knew it… it’s on an Elvis Costello album for god’s sake. Further probing showed it was a big hit for Billie Holiday back in the dizzity as well (All the jazz & blues fans reading roll their eyes for my obliviousness… and go back to rolling their eyes at their musty, empty apartments that reek of sour milk and friendlessness.)
I haven’t found a recording of the original Hungarian lyrics yet, though I have found many covers. My aim is to do a techno club remix of the Suicide Song. Music hacks with an excess of keyboards, jack-hammer beats and a desire to launch a wave of hypnotic self-destruction in the glowsticks n’ poppers set should contact me.
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One last research project summed up briefly—Sliders was not a good show.





I bowed the sides of the rounded-corner box to be more aesthetic and replaced the “channel” text with Microgramma—a typeface that it both very retro (‘51) and futuristic (used on all versions of Star Trek, Space 1999, and the Sub Pop logo), but most importantly 




