De Doc’s Institute

…” who’s the accepting doctor?”

“Horton.”

“Who?”

“Horton.”

“Who?”

… at which point those of us who have children lost all semblance of straight faces.

Neither the nurse, nor the transferring paramedic, had any idea why that soundd so funny. But then again, they did not like green eggs, nor ham…

In the course of enjoying Really Cool Stuff, I tend to accumulate a host of sites in my Favorites list. That accumulation means, in term, frequent winnowing and reorganizing…

which is a lot more pleasant than, oh, vacumning the living room. But I digress.

I’m going to start sharing some of those links — musical, visual, incenses and scents, clothing and jewelry, whatever’s caught my fancy — once a week; hence, the category name, “Friday’s Feast For The Senses”.

Let’s start with someone I’ve mentioned before, Mark Zug. He first came to my attention as the illustrator of Harlan Ellison’s screenplay for I, Robot, which is still “the finest science fiction movie never made” as far as I am concerned.

What’s truly remarkable about this work is… well, let Mark tell you:

‘I, Robot’ was the beginning for me. Packager Byron Preiss, a longtime finder-exploiter-nurturer of new talent, caught one of my cold mailings when I was still a lathe operator. In 1992 they signed me to do — a dream project for a classic illustration freak — sixteen interior full-page paintings to accompany the narrative of Harlan Ellison’s epic screenplay version of Isaac Asimov’s loosely-connected anthology.

This came from a tyro, fer Chrissake:

Amazing.

Zug moved on to illustrations for Magic The Addiction The Gathering and Dune: CCG, magazine covers, books…

If you’re a SF geek trufan like myself, you might already have a favorite Zug piece, and not realize it.

If you’re not a trufan… well, click through to his site and look around.

EXIT STRATEGY

— plans for running away from the battlefield.

Antithesis to “victory conditions”.

See also: “bailing out”, “running away”, “cowardice”.

Oh OOK, Professor!

(Trufen will understand.)

(If none of the above makes any sense at all, just humor the poor sci-fi geek who grew up in the 60s; he’ll get better presently.)

…and I’m a Friend Of Ronnie.

Go have a laugh as Rice deftly skewers Hollywood received wisdom… AND cant.

Although I don’t agree with the implied definition of “crazed”, I particularly love this little gem:

Don’t be alarmed: I’m not one of those crazed Republicans who goes to church or believes in monogamy or anything like that. I’m just convinced that there’s no such thing as a bad tax cut, that voters should have more power over their lives than judges, and that terrorists are more afraid of howitzers than they are of summits. Hence, Republican.

Can we deep-six the “South Park republican” meme, and replace it with this one?

Just askin’.

UPDATE: Zombyboy is on board… and in the comments, Remy Logan has an inspired suggestion for yet another meme.

“Team Ronnie”?

Bwahahahahahahahhhhh…

Condoleezza Rice, on the moral stature of Barbara Boxer:

Meanwhile, as I write this, the “honorable” senator from California continues to waffle, trying to portray Ms. Rice as a liar, and then feeling victimized when Ms. Rice called her on it.

Boxer hasn’t even the courage to admit she’s calling Rice a liar.

Makes her fit to caucus with such senators as Teddy “What bridge?” Kennedy and Robert “Who, Me? Bigot?” Byrd.

Moral midgets, the lot of them.

His last show was years ago. He spent his last years relaxing in seclusion, deliberately avoiding interviews and guest star engagements, playing cards with friends, letting things go on. By all accounts, he slipped away peacefully, surrounded by family.

But that’s not how I will remember Johnny Carson. Nor, I suspect, will anyone else.

Others will write of Johnny Carson’s influence on a generation of stand-up comics; of how he dominated the late-night talk show genre; of his comedic timing, or of his uncanny skill with his guests, managing over and over again to make them… more themselves, as they sat on The Couch and chatted with Carson.

Carson was all of that, and more.

For me, though, he was something else:

Millions of kids grew up over the years hearing the voices of Carson, Ed McMahon, Doc Severinsen and myriad celebrity guests emanating from the tube in their parents’ bedroom. Cackles of laughter ensued. Often, it sounded like mom and dad were having a party in there. They were.

And in time, those of us lucky enough to be of a certain age got to come to the party ourselves.

Carson has been called “… to television what Sinatra was to music, what Brando was to acting, what JFK was to the presidency.” And I think the comparison’s perfect. When Doc Severenson and his band were smoking, when Johnny and Ed McMahon were on their game, the Tonight Show had something of the same… ineffable, mature, classy, grown-up cool of the Copa Room, at the Sands Hotel, when The Chairman and the Pack were in town.

There’s nothing like that on television now.

I wish there was.

Oh, the title? It comes from one of Johnny’s most quoted jokes: “If life was fair, Elvis would be alive and all the impersonators would be dead”. I don’t wish Leno, or O’Brien, or Letterman ill.

But… yeah. If life were fair…

Goodnight, Johnny. Rest well.

For DRACO is come amongst us!

Congratulations, Rosemary and Dean!

(Yes, I know; that’s not precisely standard usage. But when congratulating successful births, I always give primacy of place to the mother. That goes double for C-sections, even if they went smoothly.

Eccentric, you say? Fine. Write me back when you’ve had abdominal surgery, and we’ll chat.

Heh.)

Perhaps not. But I defy you, gentle readers, to read this appreciation of Alton Tobey and not be moved.

If you are of a certain age, you’ll remember The Golden Book History of The United States, and those numinous paintings. It’s amazing to think of them being painted in but eighteen months… and the next time someone drones on about the artistic bankruptcy or commercial art, tell them to go get stuffed.

Tobey was not, I think, a da Vinci, or a Rembrandt. Nonetheless, he was an gifted master of his art, and consistently produced works of beauty. No small accomplishment, that.

Thanks to Virginia Postrel for the pointer.