Monday Morning Movie Review: Puppet Master I-III (1989, 1990, 1991)

Good old Shudder has been putting up some real classics of schlock lately, and that includes the first three films in the popular direct-to-video Puppet Master series.  These are not good movies, but they are a fun distraction.

The brainchild (children?) of Charles Band, whose entire career seems to have been dedicated to churning out super low-budget horror films with a strong sense of self-awareness, I remember the various Puppet Master flicks being terrifying as a kid.

For context, my parents did not plop five-year old Portly down in front of Puppet Master.  The early 90s were the golden age of direct-to-video flicks ending up on cable as reruns years later.  Somehow, at some point, I caught a few minutes of one of the films, and was thoroughly spooked.

Consider:  as a kid, the prospect of murderous, spooky-looking puppets coming to life is pretty scary.  I’m sure everyone reading this blog—even my older readers, who probably got a cedar log and an orange for Christmas—had at least one weird, creepy toy, and had some vague dread that it was filled with malice intent.  My mom had these creepy dolls that were supposed to be a little boy and a little girl, with heads made from some kind of 1960s-era molded plastic.  Those things still give me the jeebies.

So, do they hold up years later?

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Lazy Sunday CXXVI: Veterans Day Posts II

Yours portly has been run ragged lately.  It’s a bad sign when I’m unable to get Lazy Sunday posts written two weeks in a row.  We’re getting into the busy season for events at school, and setting up lighting and sound equipment with a broken ankle does not make it any easier (although I must note that I have had tons more help than usual with these tasks, and I have been blown away with the outpouring of charitable good cheer from my colleagues, administration, and fellow students).

I slept around twelve hours Friday night into Saturday morning, and apparently, it was exactly what I needed.  That doesn’t make for keeping up with a writing schedule, but it sure helped with my overall health.

But today’s post isn’t about yours portly.  It’s about remembering those who have served our nation in our armed forces.  Each year I reblog a Veterans Day post from 2018.  It might be one of the best public addresses I’ve ever given.

Here are all of the Veterans Day posts going back to 2018:

There you have it, folks.  Thanks to everyone who has served, and a huge thanks for those who have given their lives in the line of duty.  No mere blog post can do justice to the depth of your devotion.

Happy Sunday!

—TPP

Other Lazy Sunday Installments:

Solemn Saturday: Veterans’ Day 2018, Commemoration of the Great War, and Poppies

In lieu of SubscribeStar Saturday, I’m taking today to observe Veterans’ Day with the annual reposting of “Veterans’ Day 2018, Commemoration of the Great War, and Poppies.”  What follows is a transcript of remarks I gave to the county Republican Party to which I belonged at the time (I have since moved to another county, and am no longer active in any county Republican Party):

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TBT^16: Hand it to Handel

Ah, yes, November.  The fun of Halloween is over; the fun of Christmas is just beginning.  But there’s more to this humble month than being the turkey sandwiched between Halloween and Christmas.

November is when the air turns crisp and cool (here in South Carolina, anyway), when cozy sweaters and hot cups of coffee become the order of the short days at Portly Manor.

It’s also the time of year when my musical tastes skew more Baroque.  After all, some of the best Christmas carols have Baroque or Classical origins, and boast some incredible composing talents behind them.

One of those is Handel, a composer for whom my respect deepened greatly when I taught about his music in my Pre-AP Music Appreciation class many moons ago.

With that, here is “TBT^4: Hand it to Handel“:

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Hobblin’

I head back to the orthopedist today for an update on my broken ankle.  If all goes well, I should be looking at another five weeks in a boot—no surgery, no cast.  Praise the Lord!

The ankle is already starting to do better.  I can get around reasonably well in the boot, and my speed is up.  I’m getting better at walking on crutches, and can even go around my house without the boot.

Still, it hurts.  It’s not excruciating, but it’s constant.  It’s rare that I get my foot and ankle comfortable, to where I don’t feel anything.  Certain movements or positions still send a sting of pain, but it’s nothing like last week, when one morning I couldn’t put on a pair of socks by myself, and had to concentrate on my breathing while my longsuffering neighbor put the sock gingerly over my foot.

But overall, I am very thankful.  It could have been way worse.

Also, Murphy seems to be enjoying the time I spend with my leg up on the couch:

Here’s to hobblin’ for just a bit longer!

—TPP

Monday Morning Movie Review: The Birds (1963)

I had the opportunity to see Alfred Hitchcock’s The Birds (1963) a Sunday or two back on the big screen.  I love how these classic flicks get rereleased on their anniversaries, as there’s something different about seeing them in theaters as opposed to television.

In this case, the main difference is settling in with a massive tub of popcorn and a liter of Diet Pepsi.  The Birds works on the small screen just as well, I think, but it was still super cool seeing this oddball in such a setting.

One thing I did not realize about The Birds is that it lacks a traditional soundtrack.  The “soundtrack” such as it is, consists of electronic recordings of various birdcalls, layered together in a form of early musical synthesizer.  The early 1960s was an incredible period of experimentation with blended electronic musical samples, as the seminal Pet Sounds by The Beach Boys would demonstrate just three years later.  That album didn’t sample birdcalls (as far as I can remember), but it did see Brian Wilson tinkering with blends of unusual instruments and chord voicings that were examples of synthesizing analog sounds electronically.

The Birds was cutting-edge in this regard.  There’s no sweeping string orchestrations, or even stabbing ones, like in Psycho (1960).  It adds to the naturalistic terror of the film, as the only “music” is the squawking and chattering of the lethal, titular birds.

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SubscribeStar Saturday: Ankle Break

Today’s post is a SubscribeStar Saturday exclusive.  To read the full post, subscribe to my SubscribeStar page for $1 a month or more.  For a full rundown of everything your subscription gets, click here.

On Monday, 30 October 2023, I suffered a very bad fall in my laundry/mudroom.  I had an infestation of these little tiny beetles that are, fortunately, harmless; however, I wanted to get rid of them.  To that end, I sprayed a lemongrass indoor insecticide liberally throughout the laundry room.

Well, it worked:  it killed the bugs—and it nearly killed me!  I missed a spot when stepping into the room to take out Murphy, and fell hard onto the concrete floor.

At the time, I just thought it was a bad sprain, as I was able to hobble around well enough.  I iced my ankle and elevated it on some pillows on my bed, and struggled throughout a night of pain.

Well, after spending Halloween walking around on my hobbled foot—and borrowing first some crutches and then a cane from colleagues—my foot seemed to get worse.  By Wednesday morning, it was clear I needed to see an orthopedist.

Well, it turns out I had a broken ankle.

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