Coyote Vs. ACME Experience

After years of delays due to studio interference, Coyote Vs. ACME was finally released into theaters due to the passionate protests of curious fans wanting to see the movie that the studio in all its infinite wisdom, decided it’d be more profitable to use the completed movie as a tax-write off, rather than release it in theaters.  Being a mix of live action and animation, it’s very much a spiritual successor to Roger Rabbit.  It might not reach the highs of that modern classic (the bar was astronomical) but it comes close.

This is not a review of the movie itself, but of my experience of going into the theater itself.  I personally hadn’t attended a movie theater in years, due to being unable to understand what was going on, or having a concise summary beforehand.  (The last movie I saw was a foreign movie with subtitles, Cache, that I was less than enthused about)  Even when I was told that there were captioning devices that could transcribe the spoken lines to curious deaf people wanting to attend, I still didn’t come.  I preferred instead to wait for it to be released on home video, or available on cable, even if it meant being a year behind everybody else’s pop culture knowledge.

This was the first time I actually had a movie I was actually interested in seeing that I wanted to share with someone.  A movie I was aware of, thanks to a leaked plot summary that was released back when it looked like Coyote might never see the light of day.  A summary that I decided not to see again until I actually saw the results for myself.  A summary I only had vague memories of, not having read it in over 2 years, and wanted to preserve some semblance of surprise.

There were references to other movies, such as Deep Throat from All the President’s Men, and courtroom corporate dramas such as Erin Brockovich, A Civil Action, Silkwood (a Oklahoma nuclear facility worker whistleblower) and Dark Waters (a lawyer braving against a corporation dealing with the dangers of Teflon).

But enough of that, I’ll get back to the movie experience.

Before getting to the theater, I prepared myself by asking my sibling about their experience with using the subtitles.  They mentioned that there was some trickiness with the cable, lining it up properly against the screen.  (More on this later) my sibling also mentioned that in order to use the captioning device, they had to hand over their ID, such as a driver’s license or Medicare card, so as not to let the theatergoer leave their valuable device with them.  I also didn’t know if the captioning went by lines as a whole per scene, or scrolled like during news broadcasts.

I arrived at the theater half an hour early to make sure I would be on time, but also to make sure that there would be enough time to get the captioning device and beat the rush.  Turned out there wasn’t much of a lineup for the middle of the day in the middle of the week.  As I said, I don’t have much movie-going experience.

There was some slight panic on my part as the guy who was supposed to hand out captioning devices wasn’t there, but was reassured that he’d be around shortly.  After which, I was given the captioning device without having to sacrifice my ID in return.  Making our way to the seats, I set about trying to figure out how to wrangle the device in the dim previews lighting.  There was a gooseneck cable that could be bent, and a base that was supposed to fit into the cupholder portion of the seat.  Only, the base wouldn’t “click” properly, and there was a metallic base jutting from an awkward angle, and it took considerable time before I finally mange to wrestle it into a suitable shape for comfortable viewing.  I like my captions to be horizontal to the screen.

There were three buttons underneath, one for turning it on, one for selecting the language, and one for selecting the theater.  It was important to select the right button for the right theater, otherwise, you’d wind up getting captioning for the wrong movie.  Turns out it’s very easy to accidentally click the wrong button in the dark.  I was constantly rotating through the other 32 theaters in an attempt to get back to the right theater, and then going over the limit again.  Like channel flipping too quickly that the only way to get back is to go through the entire directory.

To my surprise, there were captions available for the previews, which I was sure wouldn’t be available, as I asked my sibling about their existence beforehand, and was told there likely wouldn’t be any available, so seeing the dialogue for these features came as a pleasant surprise.  The captions showed up in rapid succession, 2 lines at a time at a speed I was accustomed to.  Then during the 3rd preview, no subtitles appeared, which I thought was fine, as only music played for a silent movie staring Shaun the Sheep.  But during the 4th preview, no subtitles appeared, particularly during when dialogue should’ve shown up.

When the actual movie started, it started off not with the slapstick antics I expected, but a prologue starring (Dr.) Peter Lorre, the perpetual toothy smile fishy-bedroom eyed caricature so omnipresent in numerous Looney Tunes shorts.  There was essential dialogue being spoken throughout, and I decided to rely on my live transcribe app on my cellphone, something I’d hoped I wouldn’t have to use, as one of the people in the seats ahead of me was using her phone, and it was distractingly bright.  (She thankfully turned her phone off for the movie)   I tried to minimize my screen on dark mode so as not to disturb the watchers behind me, while my friend went to the manager to get a replacement captioning device.

I was essentially looking at three different screens at once.  The movie screen itself, the captioning screen, and my cellphone.  In addition, the live transcribe’s latest update now posts the newest lines right at the bottom, so I was missing several micro-second details than usual.  There were a lot of onscreen Easter Eggs I missed because of that.

But even with a replacement, there were times when subtitled lines failed to appear, and I had to rely on live transcribe more than once.

Only getting every other

very annoying.

You might get the gist, but

is lost.

This wasn’t an isolated experience.  My TV would also

shows had important lines missing.

beginning sentences would be cut off.

single word.

constantly puzzle out the clues from the brief scraps I was

sometimes the captioning device would repeat the last line

moving onto the next

sometimes the captioning device would repeat the last line

where a solitary line of the next dialogue showed up.

When the movie was over, my friend went to the manager to complain on my behalf, and said I should have a refund.  Something I didn’t know was possible.  I captured about 85% of what was being said, which was quite verbose for a feature featuring silent pantomimic cartoon characters dealing in slapstick.  Ironically enough, the movie’s theme which was about dealing with faulty products was almost spoiled due to the result of a faulty captioning device.

I still feel a little bad about getting my money back, even though it sent a message that the theater could’ve worked on their captioning devices better.  When the time comes that this movie gets released on physical media, I’ll get my personal copy.  As for the captioning devices, there’s several tips I have to improve the design:

1. Make the gooseneck cord more flexible AND sturdier.

2. Have the base snap into the cupholder more accurately.

3. Regarding the above, shorten the gooseneck cord significantly so that it doesn’t wind up winding all over the place.

These are basic solutions that anybody who’d field tested these things in the field could’ve suggested during production.

After that experience, I think I prefer watching movies in the privacy of my home.

Appealing to the Gods

In the world of Broom Hilda, Magic is an accepted commodity with the existence of a 1500 year-old witch.  So the presence of talking figures in the clouds isn't exactly a common factor you'd expect to come across.

And yet, the faceless Powers that Be made infrequent reoccurring appearances with the regular cast of Broom Hilda.  Broomie wisely opted out after hearing her complaints voiced out beforehand.  Gaylord in contrast seeks more conventional knowledge.  Going to the fount of impeccable logic only to be met with a resounding answer of equal profoundity.

In contrast, the last member of the group, Irwin simply goes for the simplest method possible that even the Gods couldn't see coming.

Multiple Blog Updates

Just a few things that needed additions to some of my previous posts.  First up, I mentioned that there was a missing Mr. Boffo comic regarding the Homeless tribute.

Turns out there was also a Marmaduke I missed as well.

Next up, is another minor mistake in a page that I just noticed.  It's one thing when the author is unable to make his intentions clear to the artist, but it's another thing entirely when the artist is in charge of the story.  Such is the case when it comes to the glorious trainwreck that is Neal Adams' Batman Odyssey.

Can you see the problem here?  If not, I'll spell it out for you.  Ra's Al Ghul drops a drink on the floor, bottom first, yet in the very next panel, there's two glasses of tea still on Alfred's plate.  Alfred may be the world's best butler (next to Richie Rich's Cadbury) but I very much doubt he managed to whisk up a spare glass without leaving his position.

Next up are some more comics showing thinner versions of normally fat characters.


Somehow, the idea of a thin rendition of Broom Hilda is considered too disturbing to consider.

Now, for the biggie - another similarity found between For Better or For Worse and Cerebus.

When examining upcoming old strips, it was pointed out in a recent comment on the FoobiJournal that Martha had similar handwriting to Michael:

A side-by-side comparison shows the similarities more clearly.

No wonder Martha had concerns about being intimidated by writing a letter to Michael when he was on the farm, since their cursive was practically identical.  Later, when Janet, one of Martha's friends wrote some correspondence acting as arbitrator, it occurred to Lynn that she should differentiate the handwriting between the two.

Later, when Michael writes from University, Elly seems to take full advantage of cramming in as much writing as possible, believing that the worth of a letter comes from how much effort you put in them, and not what you say.

Later, April would carry on this proud tradition, despite the advent of technology and email, allowing for faster communication.  But that would detract attention away from Lynn's limited life experience.

A close survey of Elly's handwriting showed some unsurprising similarities as well.

Especially when compared to Lynn Johnson's own very revealing handwriting:

All of this is to showcase a page from Cerebus in Church & State where Bran Mac Muffin (Cerebus' most devoted follower) pointed out that in the realm of miracles: "A discarded letter written by a young girl in the Lower City, a listing of my baggage from the carriage driver who brought me here, a listing of room charges from the desk clerk..."

"...and Boobah's transcript... Four different pages by four different writers in four different locations of Iest... and yet, all four... are in Cerebus' handwriting."

Naturally, Cerebus calmly takes it all in stride.

Back when Dave Sim was still reasonably sane, and was in the process of mastering his lettering later on, he figured that this convoluted way of overcoming his early limitations was the best way to combat his fans obsessive nature of over-analyzing every piece of nuance from his work in progress by beating them to the punch. Incidentally, this quasi-4th-wall breaking scenario is never brought up again, though it's hinted and alluded to in the definitive identity-revealing volume MINDS.

Forgotten Characters: Broomie's Girls

While doing research on the subject of my last post, I accidentally came upon some unintended interesting comics - well, interesting only to me, I guess.

Broom Hilda spends so much time with her mainly male friends and is generally so man-crazy that her range of acquaintance outside her limited field of interest would be rather narrow.  However, for a week, we got introduced to a trio of witches just as wretched as her.

You'd think that having some female friends who she'd be open to sharing her personal thoughts and secrets to someone who'd understand what it'd be like living hundreds of years without finding potential suiters, and not feel pressured to keep up the facade of her masculine attitude (which is her default setting).

Of course, this is still a broad comic written by a man, so any instances of feminine vulnerability is going to be misplaced.

Sadly, their presence is in the vein of a Sexy Lamp Test.  If you can replace a woman with a lamp, and the movie still works without their input, then it has failed in making female representation.  Only, in this instance, that sex appeal falls by the wayside for making ugly jokes.

Fun fact - this storyline actually started on Tuesday, and concluded on Monday, Halloween Night.

As we can see, these women appeared once in a rather forgettable holiday celebration, and then were never seen again.  So why did I bother posting this week of inconsequential events?  Simply because there were two Sunday comic that showed their reappearance, with a fourth member joining their ranks.  For years, I wondered who these complete strangers were, having had no context for their appearance.

You'd think the tall one was left out because she wouldn't have been able to fit in the smaller comic.  But if you look above, you'll see she was there.  The newest addition is actually the jowly man-faced one.  After that, the very next comic reduces their number to just three again, but eliminates the tall one completely.

The Cosby Effect

Recently, beloved former sitcom character, Bill Huxtable... I mean, Bill Cosby was in a trial for sexual assault, drugging and raping women.  This wasn't his first foray, having been accused of this crime multiple times throughout the years, including when he was on his definitive show.  And even earlier.  Such claims were later dismissed or later silenced through intimidation, as is tends to be when a successful show is in syndication.  The feelings of a single traumatized violated woman means nothing in the face of entertaining millions of viewers and millions of advertising dollars.  Why spoil a good thing?

Apparently, it seems that the best way to avoid being prosecuted is to make yourself known in the public consciousness to such an extent that they feel implicit in making any verdict against a favored and loved Celebrity character.  Even if said celebrity's sell-by date has long since expired past any point of relevance.  They don't want to have the reputation of punishing someone who gave so much joy (themselves included), and being responsible for jailing a comedian.  (Leaving out the fact that they'd be further remembered as someone who let a serial rapist go free)

There was a time when Cosby was a beloved figure, which I wasn't entirely aware of, but still absorbed via osmosis and his saturation in media alone.  The rare critic who dared to speak out against Cosby would've been called out for daring to defy against the common status quo, and trying to break new ground.  Ground that nowadays seems more like pandering to safe tastes.

The Cosby Family was a well-behaved Black family, back when the sheer concept of such a notion was considered outlandish.  The general consensus for minority representation was being Snarky, Angry or a Token Male for "diversity".  Having a normal Middle Class Black family engaging in the same outrageous situations as other white people was considered revolutionary.  A formula that would be shamelessly copied through other Black sitcoms such as Family Matters & Fresh Prince of Bel-Air.  Though you'd be hard-pressed to recall any scenes of the parents being involved at their jobs.  Much like Tintin's Reporting, it was more of a title than an ideal to live up to.

And even now, trying to increase minority representation is an uphill struggle despite audience outreach and identification.  If it doesn't instantly appeal to Media Mongels (who are overwhelmingly white) then it won't appeal to All Audiences.  This is all speculation, from not having personally seen a single episode (and certainly not planning to).

An instance of Cosby's influence was mainly felt by the constantly chuckling Dr. Hibbert in The Simpsons.  Apart from a few perfunctory scenes involving occasional appearances of his family, we really don't know that much about the good doctor.  In terms of Immigrant representation, we know more about Apu's background - an Indian convenience store manager, than a competent good-natured doctor.  It's the sleazier doctors such as Dr. Nick (Hi!) and to a lesser extent, Dr. Monroe, who get more screentime, which is understandable, given the constraints of humour.

AND to further add ironic abuse to the case, after the mistrial, Cosby plans on giving lectures on Sexual Assault.  Not solely aimed at Women, mind you - that would be considered tasteless - but for Men who would be accused of Sexual Assault.  Certainly something he would have experience in.

I'm really the wrong person to even cast stones in this direction.  For starters, I'm not Black, and didn't grow up Religiously watching his show.  I don't have very strong feelings for the man in one way or another.  I have a book or two of his amusing anecdotes (which feel slightly poisoned and possibly ghost-written by now), but otherwise, don't really care about him one way or another.  It's probably a major reason why I'm not suitable for being a reporter.  I'm not angry enough at the issues to be suitably outraged at the sheer unfairness of delayed justice.  All I can do is find relevant caricatures and comic images referencing the man back when he was a household name and figure.  It's all I know what to do.

Fixing the Sound Barrier

It's been a harrowing three weeks for me.  For months, I'd been receiving warnings that my Vista computer - that I'd been using for years with minor problems (a broken fan, the occasional data dump crash, caught viruses), would no longer be getting any updates.  After weeks of a yellow warning, that day of no further updates finally came.  To prepare myself for the possible inevitability that I'd no longer be using ol' reliable, I'd been saving as much of my recent files as possible, including the stuff I'd burned on CD and DVD on another laptop computer.  Especially after finding out to my horror that the old stuff that was saved in my LAST computer crash and backed up via sixteen CDs (computers had less memory back then) was getting harder to read, and had suffered data rot.

Of the burned stuff, only one DVD wasn't readable, but it was only contained a single obscure Anime title, Azuka Will Help, which I have no memory of, so there's not much lost there.  And the single corrupted comic image I had was easily found.

I'd been dreading the prospect of using Windows 10, after being less than impressed with their presentation (along with everybody else) and not liking their inability to have multiple folders conform to the same file settings, an uncomfortable image viewer, and no classic mode.  Fortunately, there are programs out there that'll allow me to reuse the efficient older versions, so I have some semblance of optimism there.

But that's not the main electronic device that made me upset to my stomach.  My Right Hearing Aid - the one I mostly depend on, since it's my good hearing ear - went on the fritz. When I put it on, there was a persistent whistling that drove me nuts.  I went to get it fixed, which took several hours.  Getting to the place, then waiting for my turn, getting replacement tubes, and waiting some more while they fiddled around with the thing.

At first, I thought the problem was solved, until it was found out that the whistling was internal. Ironically enough, when it wasn't whistling inside, it was whistling outside, where everybody else could hear. And when it whistled inside, nobody else but me could hear it.  At the time, I thought the main problem was that I needed new hearing molds, made out of silicone, which I hadn't done in a long time either.  This wasn't fully figured out until I was already at home, long after closing time, and the repair shop was closed on the weekend.  Anyways, I needed a replacement hearing aid - FAST.

However, in order to do so, I needed a recent audiologist report, which I hadn't had in about several years, the new regulations preventing my annual checkups to become routine.  I needed to take a hearing test to prove that I haven't been faking my Deafness all my life.  Well, okay, the actual reason is that a form is required to show that I'm still active, and in need of aid, but I like my explanation better.

Somehow, a requested rush test was requested, which wouldn't become available until the tester was available too, which meant several weeks of delays. And in the meantime, I only had one working hearing aid on my left ear. The whole while, I was dreading my remaining hearing aid going on the fritz too, since it hadn't been upgraded in a long time either. If THAT one went too, I'd be in BIG TROUBLE.

So when the available appointment time came, I was notably upset, because it was raining that day, and had been raining all that week too. And I hate getting wet.  A consistent running joke around this time of year is that I preface the lousy weather by proclaiming, "At least it's not snowing so hard we can't make a fire".  Only people who didn't devotedly read a certain newspaper strip growing up understand the reference.  (i.e., my parents)

The only way for me to get there on time was to take a train that would have me be there an hour early, when I could've used that time for doing other stuff. So I went there, had a quick lunch from a nearby place that sells Amazing Pita Gyros. (I always request them to leave the sauce off, which I can't stand, and have had to check to make sure they followed my instructions, which they don't always do) As good as it was, it wasn't what I Really was in the mood for - General Tao Chicken, which was all the way on the opposite side of town, and would've been a time-wasting a delay that I couldn't afford the risk of.

So lunch rolled over, the secretary came, and figured that I'd be called upon anytime soon. I waited five minutes, ten minutes, fifteen minutes. At the half-hour mark, I was getting nervous and irritated. I looked for the secretary, but she wasn't at her desk. When she showed up sometime later, I asked where the person doing my test was.

Turns out she forgot to tell my hearing tester that I was going to be seeing her THAT DAY.

After some pained internal screaming and wondering how she could've messed up something so laughably simple, was told that she would see me an hour from now. Which Really grated on my nerves - I could've picked up my General Tao order without any consequences. Now I had to wait another twenty minutes or so for my long-delayed appointment to come up.

I passed the time fuming, pacing the hallways, unwilling to allow myself the luxury of sitting still, filled with pent-up energy with no outlet to release them. After going up and down the stairs several times, my tester finally came. I was able to pass off my irritation through good humour, and got into the minuscule sounding booth where I finally took my test with bulky headphones over my glasses, and clicked the buzzer whenever I heard any sounds I figured didn't come from the ringing in my ears.

It took about maybe 15-20 minutes.

After that, it was just a matter of sending the report over to my Hearing Aid center, and I'd get my new hearing aid.  But before that, I went to get my long-neglected order of General Tao Chicken.  The place I go to puts something resembling pure MSG in their sauce, and I go into withdrawal symptoms if I don't eat it on a regular basis.  The downside to this was that eating two takeouts on the same day was extremely heavy on my stomach, and I didn't sleep well that night.

When the report was finally available at the Hearing Aid center, I eagerly went for my latest appointment, looking forward to getting my regular hearing back.  After being handicapped at half strength for so long, they helped me out by giving me a minor hearing test on my right ear to reassure my fear that I wouldn't hear anything out of there ever again.  However, the business had long since switched owners since I was a baby, and the new people in charge weren't as familiar with me as the old ones were, who I'd maintained a sort of familiarity with.  The procedure consisted of taking my hearing aids off, inserting some kind of hearing wire inside my ear (after checking inside my ears using a light - I never know what they're looking for inside there), and then pushing my hearing aid inside.

The procedure took multiple tries, and my frustration wasn't alleviated any by the handler who simply didn't have any idea of the proper way to squeeze in a hearing aid mold, obviously never having worn one himself.  I told him that the trick was to turn it, like an oddly-shaped key, not wedge it in, like an unusual square block in a round hole.  But he didn't take my words to heart, no matter how many times I told him.  That, and for someone supposedly used to talking to hard-of-hearing people, I had a tremendously difficult time understanding him.  (He hardly moved his mouth or gestured while he talked)

If it weren't for the presence of another co-worker who was familiar with me, who faced me, and clearly explained the process to me, I'd be much more frustrated than usual.  She said the wires was supposed to help gauge my hearing range, and vaseline would be applied over my new molds to make them easier to slide in and out.  After that, it was a simple matter of hearing the familiar testing beeping sounds increasing in pitch and frequency along the likes of "Do doo doo Doo DOo DOO TOO TOo Too To to."  (It loses a lot in the retelling)

Once the range of my hearing was programmed into my replacement hearing aid (which would've cost me upwards of $400 without proof) I was able to feel a contented breath of relief.  Even if my new hearing aid has a new on switch I'm not accustomed to, and the battery placement is still perplexingly enough, opens right on top of the ear mold, making exchanging expired batteries more difficult than they should be.

Long story short - I've got a new hearing aid now, and don't have to worry that I'm getting any deafer in one ear, and my remaining hearing aid could potentially self-destruct any moment now.