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THE FRANTIC FLICKER
"The movie magazine that isn't..."
----Serving nonsense on a golden platter since 2004.----
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Issue #5: March 12, 2004
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www.franticflicker.com
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"The rock people are fighting the shell people again."
-Michael J. Weldon, starting his review of "One Million Years B.C." in The Psychotronic
Encyclopedia of Film.
IN THIS ISSUE:
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==>Welcome
==>One Million Years B.C.
==>All You Have To Do Is Ask
==>The Visiting of the Sponsors
==>Superatomic Giveaway of the Week
==>Whodunnit?
WELCOME
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Hello,
Welcome to Issue #5 of The Frantic Flicker. It seems like only yesterday that I put out the first
issue of this sucker, but it was four long weeks ago. Things this past week have gone really well
(for the Frantic Flicker at least, I've had bronchitis and it sucks). Either Jess Franco turned out to
be a good topic for this personal conversation of mine, or it's just more proof that sex sells, but
more people signed up for the newsletter this past week than any week before (except the first
one when all my regular friends were signing up). So many thanks to the folks that were swayed
to take the Frantic Flicker plunge this week.
I'd like to share with you a phrase that was drilled into my head throughout my childhood:
whenever I would ask "Why does it work that way?" or "How come that dog is doing that?" or
"Why is it raining today?" the answer was always "to make little boys ask questions." In other
words: I don't know, and maybe someday if you get curious enough to find out, then you can tell
me. Well, I was a very curious kid, and I devoted a great deal of my life to scientific study. Now
that I'm grown up, I finally have all the answers to those questions. If you have any questions
about the way the world works, send them to me at eric@franticflicker.com and I'll enlighten you
in the ALL YOU HAVE TO DO IS ASK section.
This week is Dinosaur Week. I wish I'd had more time to add some sort of special feature to the
website this week, but at least the front page looks nice, and the Superatomic Giveaway of the
Week is in place. Anything else beyond this lovely newsletter is gravy, and we're just a tad bit
short on gravy this week. Still got the meat, though, and gravy or no, it's darn tasty. Enjoy!
Eric
Let's get right into our feature presentation. It's an wild, gnawing, primitive, untamed, animalistic
original tale. I call it:
ONE MILLION YEARS B.C.
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All this stuff started like last week. I was over my girl Kirsten's house. She's a hottie, but she's
always playin' hard to get. I knew her since I was like eight or somethin', and I always knew
when we found the right time to be alone together when we got old enough then it would all
work out for the good, if you know what I mean.
So anyway Kirsten's dad is like this rocket scientist guy or something. He always liked me for
Kisten, but that's a whole other story. This story's about that one time last week when me and
her found her dad's time machine. It was like a photo-booth thing kinda except you didn't have
to put no quarters in, just press on the buttons and all that shit, you know what I'm sayin'?
I think Kirsten was down there thinking about me and where could we go so her dad wouldn't
catch us hookin' up, right? So she's like, let's go in the time machine, whaddayou wanna go see,
right? So I told her I wanted to go to when we were eight so I could mack on her right from the
get-go. You know, so I could control her mind all her life, you know what I'm sayin'?
She didn't like that idea, she said pick something closer. My brain snapped and I snapped all
my fingers and my toes at the same time and I just blurted it right out, "Look, girl, you KNOW we
gotta go back to last baseball season. I could take you to the game, we c'get some peanuts, and
all kinda nice stuff." Long story short, she says great.
So we get in there and she's sittin' on my lap and it's real comfortable. And then the last
second before we go, I don't know why, I just thought I wanted to see some dinosaurs and
boomita boom, there go my fingers and I set the dial at one million years B.C. (that's before
Christ, the lord, yo).
So Kirsten starts all this nippy snippy what did you do that for stuff, and I started to tell her,
and then we started falling. Turns out, she said, a million years ago there was less dirt because
of leaves didn't stack there yet, somethin' like that, and so we fell like a long time.
We wasn't too hurt, but she said the time machine was messed up hardcore. As soon as were
down and okay, Kirsten started beatin' on me pretty hard, she was like tryin' to knock my teeth
out. She kept looking mean, but after awhile I started to get the feeling like maybe it was some
weird foreplay or something, like she was finally ready to give it up because of the dinosaurs.
Then all of a sudden she stops with the beating and starts with the yelling. She said there
wasn't no dinosaurs in one million B.C. She called me stupid, a moron, a idiot, and a whole lotta
other names for dumb. But I thought I had a pretty good defense, though. I said I musta been
absent that day when they talked about how old the dinosaurs was and how it was two
hundred million years ago or somethin'. I told her that's probably why I wanted to see them
cold-blooded leathery-skinned bitches in the first place was because I missed that day of school.
Anyway, so then there wasn't no dinosaurs and it was one million years B.C. and Kirsten was
mad at me and she didn't want to hook up. I was about ready to get pissed and go all Jet Li on
all the stupid trees and rocks and everything around here. Then I got a idea. Maybe it was cave
girl times. I know about them cave girls, they got no kinda moral upbringing, and that means that
they like to you-know-what. I asked Kirsten, she said maybe.
We looked all around there and there was nothing good to eat, but at least they had some
water. It made me kinda pissed they didn't have no cups, but we drank some anyway.
When it got dark we started hearin' all kinda weird sounds. Kirsten slept in the machine, but
she made me sleep outside it. When she did that, I knew it was the last straw for me and her,
and I said it out loud to her, too. "I'm cuttin' you off! You'll get no love from Special G. until you
come out here and apologize and beg for it." And you know, that girl started laughin'? I was real
mad, but after awhile I just started thinkin' about them cave girls again, and my thoughts got all
peaceful until I fell asleep.
The first thing I saw when I woke up was one of them real cave girls and I said damn, this
ain't no dream come true at all, that girl looks RUGGED. She wasn't wearin' no clothes, but she
wasn't gonna be no Penthouse Pet no time soon, neither. She's kinda like a monkey-girl, except
sometimes more monkey than girl. Her face is kinda okay, but kinda like a monkey girl face that's
almost not okay. Now I'm not weak or nothin', but when I saw her for the first time, I did get a
little nervous, just cause I wasn't sure what she was.
After she saw I was awake, she got all scared and ran behind a tree. I got up and looked
around. She musta had a pleasing touch, or I was extra sleepy, 'cause I was in a different place,
but I didn't remember moving at all. It took at least an hour to find the place where we landed
the other day, and then when I did find it, there wasn't no time machine there, and no Kirsten
either.
She double-crossed me, but the way I'm thinkin' now, it might be all for the good. I got me
three women now: Pam (that's the first one where I got shocked, but she looks better to me
now), Sheila (I don't know if they're sisters or what, but she kinda looks the same as Pam), and
Carmen (she's a little bit shorter, so it's easier to tell her apart). They're all my woman now, and
none of 'em get jealous neither. They don't really talk like people, but I can get used to that, too.
So the whole point, what I'm trying to say is this: If you are in the future, and you find this in
the fossil record, and you are a girl with a time machine, and maybe even if people around you
sometimes think that you're ugly, that's okay by me. I don't care what you look like, it's probably
pretty beautiful if you come from my world and time. You should swing by and say hello. I got no
one to really talk to and it's makin' me mad frustrated. So you just set that dial for one million
years B.C., baby. I'll be watchin' for you. Peace.
Matthew G. Klegenhahn "Special G."
THE END
Alas, poor Matthew. All he ever wanted was to share himself with others and look where it got
him. Trapped forever in a world of prehistoric fury. I found this story a couple of weeks ago at an
archaeological dig in Burbank (I think that must have been where I got this bronchitis). It was
near some of the oldest human remains yet discovered. There was one man (dubbed Burbank
Man) and, at last count, twenty-three women. While the Burbank Man has been confirmed as a
sort of "missing link" between man and ape, several of the women had a bone structure
remarkably similar to that of a modern human. Of course, time machines don't really exist. Or do
they? HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA
ALL YOU HAVE TO DO IS ASK
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In this section, I will happily answer any question you might have, whether I know the answer or
not. Just send them to eric@franticflicker.com with the subject line "I have a question.". I
especially like questions about regular school-type subjects, advice, or stuff about movies.
Aw heck, gotta make up my own question again this week. Let's see.
QUESTION: Martha Stewart is going to jail, and I don't know where to turn. I'm having a dinner
party with twenty-five invited guests, but I only know ten of them well. What should I serve, and
what should I avoid serving, in order to keep everyone happy?
ANSWER: The people that you know well should be of little concern. You could just feed them
whatever slop you would serve to your family, and they'd be happy. So you're going to
concentrate on the other 15. Incidentally, all of the recipes in this answer are included in my new
book "Yeah? Cook This, Buddy!" due out later this year.
My first suggestion would be to have plenty of booze on hand. People care much less about what
they're eating when they're plastered.
As an appetizer, serve cold carrot soup with hot fresh nutmeg on the side, a tray of candied
orange-mushroom tarts, and a small glass of cognac for each guest. The orange-mushroom tarts
are quickly becoming a popular favorite; they taste like a piece of orange peel that's been buried
in the yard, and people are going crazy for them.
When everyone's settled, bring out a boiled duck wrapped in bacon and garnished with hummus,
medium salsa, and yellow mustard. Make everyone take a turn carving off their own piece of the
duck, and have them drink a shot of tequila afterwards. Also, make sure each guest has their
own personal bottle of strawberry-kiwi Boone's Farm wine.
Side dishes might include french fries, cheese fries, chili fries, pizza fries, or tater tots. Serve with
rum.
In case you have a vegetarian in the crowd, fry up a couple of onion patties (just onions, flour,
and water) and press several whole cloves into the top of each.
If you have more than one vegetarian, you'll probably want a main dish equivalent to the duck,
but meatless. So wrap a loaf of bread in (cooked) lasagna noodles and bake it in a marinade
featuring hummus, hot salsa, and brown mustard for fourteen hours. Cooking it for so long will
help to give your vegetarian meal a "meaty" texture. Your guests will thank you for the extra
effort.
For dessert, I'd suggest either a birthday cake (if it's someone's birthday) or a couple of boxes of
Twinkies. Careful, don't light your face on fire.
Do not serve conditioning skin lotion or motor oil. These things are inedible.
If you follow my directions precisely, your guests will not only have a nice time, but rant and rave
for months about the 'gourmet' experience you've provided them with. Bon appetit!
THE VISITING OF THE SPONSORS
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Just a couple of quick commercials before SUPERATOMIC time.
EBAY!
I'm an eBay fiend (username mothra911, feedback rating 849 and counting). This weekend I'm
putting on a huge bunch of stuff. If you've never done e-business with me in the past, here's a
perfect opportunity.
http://cgi6.ebay.com/ws/eBayISAPI.dll?ViewSellersOtherItems&userid=mothra911&include=0&sin
ce=-1&sort=3&rows=50
Dear friends-
GET EVERYONE YOU KNOW TO SUBSCRIBE!
When everyone on earth is signed up for the Frantic Flicker, things will be much better.
Deep down, you really know it's true. Sing along with me now:
If you can't tell the difference between funny and stupid
If you got shot with an arrow and thought it was cupid
If you're uncouth or just can't hold your liquor
Sign up today for your free Frantic Flicker!
Frantic Flicker yea yea yea!
Thanks for your patience.
And now, it's time for our...
SUPERATOMIC GIVEAWAY OF THE WEEK
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Part of my whole reason for being here is to expose people to cool and/or weird stuff that they
might not otherwise know about, and one of the main ways I want to do that is by giving stuff
away for free.
This week's giveaway is a DEADLY DINO DOUBLE FEATURE that includes a BRAND spankin' NEW
DVD of CARNOSAUR and a VHS tape of JURASSIC PARK. See the website for further details.
To win, send an e-mail to superatomic@franticflicker.com. Put your NAME (first and last) and
ADDRESS in the BODY of the e-mail, and use the SUPERATOMIC SECRET PASSWORD in a
COMPLETE SENTENCE as the SUBJECT line. Your information will not be used for any other
purpose.
The SUPERATOMIC SECRET PASSWORD for this week is... (gotta subscribe to find out).
Visit the superatomic section of the website (www.franticflicker.com/superatomic) for complete
rules, more details and photos of this week's prize. Contest ends late Thursday night, March 18,
2004.
By entering, you confirm that you are 18 years of age or older. US or Canadian entrants only,
please.
WHODUNNIT
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Written, compiled, researched, edited and published by yours truly,
King Boss Man Eric Henderson! Thanks for reading it!
The Frantic Flicker is a weekly e-mail newsletter published by Eric Henderson.
The official website is up and quite a bit more specialized than Google.com, so please visit us
online at:
www.franticflicker.com
If you have any questions or comments, I'd be happy to hear them. Gimmee a holler at:
eric@franticflicker.com. If you don't want me to print your letter, let me know.
I'll talk at you again next week. Thanks! Eric
All content copyright 2004 Eric Henderson. All rights reserved, but feel free to forward this e-mail
or link to my home page. Thanks.
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THE LIVING END
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