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SOL Post 54 12/15/00
SOL Post 53 11/23/00
SOL Post 52 10/15/00


Volume 53 http://www.msties.com/ Turkey Day 2000
Formerly The MSTies Anonymous Newsletter: News for the Obscure Convergence


In This Issue

From the Poobah
"Random Commentary from a 'Bot" by rockerbot27@yahoo.com
"Better 'Bots and Satellites" by bgibron@yahoo.com
"Jenny For Your Thoughts" by Kismetgirl88@hotmail.com
December MST3K Schedule on SFC
Classifieds 3000

From the Poobah

Since 1995, Turkey Day has meant something in my family entirely different than the standard pilgrims-and-triptephane family fare accepted by mainstream America and not yet fully exploited by Madison Avenue. No, Turkey Day is not focused around cranberry sauce and mince meat like in so many other households from coast to coast; rather, it is a time in the fall to become marooned with a guy and two robots in a spaceship orbiting Earth and watch the worst movies ever made, relentlessly riffing them to shreds and earning countless laughs along the way.

The annual 24-hour Mystery Science Theater 3000 marathon begins at the stroke of midnight, lambasting at least 4 cheesy movies rotten enough to make Ed Wood spin in his grave before the Butterball is in the oven. The small cybernetic heroes would conduct Socratic dissertations on pointed issues such as stuffing versus potatoes while the sweet scents of turkey would waft through the orbiting spaceship. Unfortunately, in space, no one can hear you laugh, and more often than not, most of the family is usually too busy tending the oven to pay heed to the laughter in the adjacent room and callously rip the participants away from the yearly rite in favor of having everyone's faces stuffed with sleep-inducing agents from the real turkey. I detect fowl play...

So with the advent of fast-forwarding through the good times to save on precious minutes, the test subjects choke down the one big meal of the day faster than you can say, "The Incredibly Strange Creatures Who Stopped Living and Became Mixed-Up Zombies." Back on the orbiting film repository, the heroic threesome would continue surviving the bad movies shown to them by roasting those turkeys with their infinite wits.

If one is to understand what Turkey Day really means to a MSTie, one must look back to the history of the ritual. It was on Minneapolis UHF station KTMA TV23 that played the very first two episodes of the series on the evening of Turkey Day 1988, marking the show's anniversary. When picked up for a cable run on Comedy Central, the channel would run anywhere from 12 to 36 consecutive hours of MST3K on the show's very own modified holiday, providing a pleasant distraction from the burnt carcasses of avian creatures and the annoying presence of any extended family members gathered together for a reunion to give thanks.

For me, this new tradition passed down since the mists of time started on Turkey Day '95 with the final MST3K marathon to actually be broadcast on Comedy Central before the show's move to the Sci-Fi Channel shortly after I had become a fan of the show. My first marathon was a horrible, horrible mess and a poor excuse for a cult-like experience as it happened that year. The TCI cable service at my mother's condominium callously alternated between VH-1 and Comedy Central throughout the day on a single channel to save on their oh-so- precious bandwidth. So when I woke up at the crack of dawn to watch some rare Season 1 episodes of MST3K, I was greeted with the soulful sounds of late 80's soft glamour rock with no refuge from the horror until 3 o'clock in the afternoon. So shortly after 5 and only one episode viewed, it was time to make the hour-long drive to my father's house for the obligatory family trough session and sacrifice what little of the show was left on that day. Finally free to watch the rest of the marathon, the last episode of the day and the premiere episode of Season 7 hit the air and my tape in the VCR as the family made better doors than windows in setting up the Christmas Tree between me and the television set, spoiling nearly all attempts to actually pay attention to the show. So in trying to recapture some of what was lost, I popped in a few of my favorite tapes leading up to midnight and the end of Turkey Day '96. Not only would subsequent marathons would be unaired and continued on tape by fans of the show, but I'd also remain in one place on the holiday, leaving all 24 hours for the festival of laughs.

During a number of these Turkey Day marathons, MST3K's production company had filmed short between-episode fillers called Bumpers, often focusing on Dr. F's attempted and invariably hilariously botched due to the incompetence of assistant TV's Frank. It was Frank who always loved to invite to their underground lair characters on the show who had made guest appearances in the past, annoying Dr. F to no end. So in this way, MST3K not only poked fun at abominations of the reel on Turkey Day, but also the American tradition of the holiday. It always feels reassuring to know that there are many others who share the view of Thanksgiving being yet another falsetto excuse to harass the family otherwise not seen for the rest of the year and crawl inside a whiskey bottle. Laughter provided by MST3K is always the best medicine in fighting the irresistible urge to pass out on the couch due to the nearly toxic levels of triptephane and the horrific tedium of some of the torturous flicks when trying to reach the 24-hour mark in the marathon.

So while millions of Americans stuff themselves full of Aunt Martha's turkey surprise casserole and choke down the first fruit cakes of the holiday season all the while tolerating the allegedly related people, thousands of MSTies take asylum with a little cow-town puppet show made in Eden Prairie, Minnesota. And even though the show ended its ten-year cable run on the Sci-Fi Channel last year, the cheese rolls on and on... Pass the turkeys.

Here's my own schedule for Turkey Day 2000, but feel free to watch your favorite episodes of MST3K for your own marathon:

{All times are Mountain and tentative}
11/23/00 - 12:00 am - 0013 SST Death Flight
11/23/00 - 01:30 am - 0111 Moon Zero Two
11/23/00 - 03:00 am - 0205 Rocket Attack USA
11/23/00 - 04:30 am - 0310 Fugitive Alien
11/23/00 - 06:00 am - 0412 Hercules and the Captive Women
11/23/00 - 07:30 am - 0506 Eegah (DVD)
11/23/00 - 09:00 am - 0612 Starfighters
11/23/00 - 10:30 am - MST3K: The Movie (DVD)
11/23/00 - 12:00 pm - PRE-EMPTED FOR TURKEY
11/23/00 - 01:30 pm - 0701 Night of the Blood Beast
11/23/00 - 03:00 pm - 0703 Deathstalker and the Warriors from Hell
11/23/00 - 04:30 pm - 0814 Riding with Death
11/23/00 - 06:00 pm - 0904 Werewolf
11/23/00 - 07:30 pm - 1003 Merlin's Shop of Mystical Wonders
11/23/00 - 09:00 pm - 0321 Santa Claus Conquers the Martians
11/23/00 - 10:30 pm - 0521 Santa Claus

"Random Commentary from a 'Bot" by rockerbot27@yahoo.com

First off, I would like to say that this column needs a new title. My commentary is getting less random as I get used to this and I want something new. I want feedback from you guys, at the very least. Just use the e-mail that's included in up in the title and tell me what you think: ideas for new columns, your opinions, and your new title for the column. Tell me if you think I suck and you want Anon to ban me form the newsletter. I'll go if you ask me to. I want to hear form you. Now, on with our regularly scheduled babbling.

Ah, Thanksgiving. Time to get together with your family, watch football, and stuff your face with food items. Being a robot, I'd be the last to know about any of those things. Well, maybe no the football part, but I digress. More importantly, there is Turkey Day. Almost a separate holiday form Thanksgiving, it is the celebration of the creation of the most wonderful of TV shows, Mystery Science Theater 3000! MSTies celebrate by keeping the VCR to themselves, isolating themselves from non-believing members of the family and watch hours of the 'Bots' heckling of terrible, lousy movies, or turkeys, hence the name "Turkey Day", although I think the fact that it's the same day as Thanksgiving has something to do with it. Of course, I don't need to tell you all that. You guys are experts at that. But it still makes me feel a little empty at the fact we are not also awaiting new episodes that may become your Turkey Day favorites. Sure, Sci-Fi never gave us many Turkey Day marathons, but I still feel a bit of a hole in my heart. What can I say; I haven't gotten over it yet. But I need to let go. I'll nurse my wounds by reading MSTings and writing my own fanfic, and keep my tapes rolling. By the way, Scott and I are proud owners of a PlayStation 2 and we have 506 Eegah and 513 Brain That Wouldn't Die on DVD. Asides from the fact that the animations on the menus are a little creepy, the menus are actually nicer than most of the menus I've seen, which does include good old expensive Disney. They come with a little static theater silhouette sticker that would go perfectly at the bottom of you TV screen so you can say stupid (yet funny) things. I'm not brave enough to watch either of the movies uncut without Mike/Joel and the 'Bots, so I haven't taken advantage of that option.

Well, gotta go. Wave your freak flag high.

"Better 'Bots and Satellites" by bgibron@yahoo.com

Vol. 3, Issue 4
Meaty, Beaty, Big and Bouncy: Work 'Til You're Muscle-Bound

Basically, the overly muscular have little or no purpose on the planet. Oh sure, they look good, biceps swelling to inhuman proportions and abs waiting for a lemon to zest, but after that, they serve no real purpose. They can barely move, seem stuck in a state somewhere between physical suspended animation and rheumatoid arthritis, and must seek assistance from garden gnomes to pick the cheese from between their toes. Their egos dwarf the incompetence of Southern Florida voters almost two to one (after a hand recount) and they spend more time in the narcissistic exercise of mega reps and burn feeling that Oprah Winfrey, Delta Burke and Star Jones combined. Cannibals, long outcasts of the social order, would make a fine feast of them, if they can get past the non-organic nature of the meat, and the overwhelming gamy tang of Power Bars.

Sure, AH-NOLD cuts a mean jib as he strips down to his Bavarian skivvies and shakes his moneymaker in pursuit of the Devil/Terrorists/Clones/Democrats. Sly would not be sly if he had a beer belly and fat ass. Just ask the cast of "Copland". And what of the Van Dammes, the Sorbos and the Spaceys, pumped to and for the max in the insane rush toward complete liver collapse and the unswerving desire to chew glass and abuse your spouse, all at the same time. Even women are getting into the squat of things, with WWF wrestlers like Chyna, Jackie and Shawn Michaels enhancing their femininity by increasing the amount they can bench press. Or how about Howard Stern's favorite she-male, Nicole Bass, who looks less like a woman, and more like the silk purse forged from the poor pigs earlobe? However, you need to substitute worn out shoe leather for silk, oversized inhuman torso for purse and 100% animal steroid juice for the earlobe.

Well, society seems to be wizening up to the worthlessness of the ripped and the helplessness of the honed. After years of making every teenage boy in the western hemisphere feel physically, socially and sexually inadequate, Xena is being taken off the air to make room for more of those courtroom shows where pseudo judges pass verdicts (and a little gas) at irritating and somewhat fetid members of the general public, all of whom could solve their little skirmishes with a healthy dose of common sense and an even bigger ball peen hammer. Lesbians around the nation issued a heavy sigh of ennui and resigned themselves to the infrequent appearances of the semi-retired Kathie Lee for hope and inspiration. Still, it served the lawless Lucy right; bosom heaving, deltoids and triceps in constant sensual battle, it was enough to make your average housewife run down to the local Shapes and work her buttocks until it resembled a bubble, or an onion, or some other attractive member of the gourd family.

Still need more verification that the body-toned are talent-free? Then look no further than the bulky, bloated bearded blunderbuss of Hercules, the god more Charles Rocket than Charles Atlas, for here is a truly pointless picture of pulchritude. Though supposedly a deity among men, he seems more likely to work out than work miracles, is easily duped by the almost attractive and the ersatz female, and can be seen drinking and debauching in a manner more befitting a college, not an ancient, Greek. A quick review of his cinematic stagnation, as seen in 408 Hercules Unchained, 410 Hercules and the Moon Men, 412 Hercules and the Captive Women, and the self-titled debut debacle 502 Hercules gives us at least ten reasons why this man-god is more man-goat than son of man. "Better 'Bots and Satellites" offers, in no particular order, the Top Ten Reasons why Hercules is a useless hero:

  1. The dufus will DRINK ANYTHING. When faced with an evil queen who wants nothing more than to run her fingers through the Herc's man fur, and control his peanut sized brain, he readily sips of the Waters of Forgetfulness and poof, he's a mindless love slave. Little did she know that some rusty tap water would have accomplished the same thing.
  2. His stance on HUMAN SACRIFICE is rather wishy-washy. Seems that, when paid the right amount of drachmas, the incredible Bulk will shoot his buffalo shot in the direction of anyone who even thinks about surrendering their or their fellow man's corpus delecti in the name of some vague quasi-religious experimentation. However, if there isn't a paycheck in it, you can feel free to surrender your hinder and fry in a molten magma Jacuzzi for all that oversized oaf could care.
  3. He LUMBERS. Again, as with most of the physically enhanced and inflated, Mr. Ucles is rather herky-jerky when it comes to movement. He has a hard time standing and starting, and then once going, his body mass produces enough foot pounds per square hectare of momentum that it requires a few dozen stutter steps, or a rock wall, to stop him. Even when lifting porticos and columns, he fails to use his legs, and strains many of his rippling back muscles in the process.
  4. He is a SHAPE SHIFTER. Not content to look indistinguishably Italian and almost Mediterranean, Hercamer, the fun-shunning clown can look like many things, and many different people. He can be short and compact like an olive oiled fireplug, or he can be ungainly and high coiffed, like a reject from Wigstock. His pecs can be pert, round, pendulous, or muffiny, and skin tone can range from skid mark to orange bronzer cream. But no matter what the look, (or acting name he goes under) the same sloping cranium and malformed brainpan is ever present.
  5. He IGNORES the OLD SAYINGS. Remember when your granddad told you that the IRS would never take his RV away because _you can't get blood from a stone? Well, as the federal agents place your beloved grand pappy in a headlock, you can rest assured that it was the Herculator that managed to produce sanguine from the stones. Don't believe me, just watch him handle the Captive Women, and see if the pebbles don't hemorrhage.
  6. He MIXES his MYTHS. Okay, Jason and the Argonauts went after the Golden Fleece, right? WRONG! Hercules was there too, napping, burping and abusing the on board sanitation facilities. Ulysses was a great lone warrior who fought many a classic battle? INCORRECT! Hercules was hanging around in the bushes waiting to snag a snicker snack on the advancing hoard. Lost city of Atlantis? Hercules' summer address. Anywhere a myth, saga or epic can be found, Herc is there, horning in on the accolades of others.
  7. He's JUST A GIGOLO. Are you a wrinkled old hags looking for a dumb, buff man slave to service your wanton sexual desires. Hmm, sounds like a job for the muscled one to me. Having about as much taste in women as he has in lamb skin thongs, the big beefy injector runs with any and all females crowds, from the hopelessly lonely to the 'wearing enough makeup to choke a Minotaur' aging fashion victims. And Herc puts out! He doesn't hold back one bit. Of course, years of steroid abuse have left his equipment a little more compact than he would like, so a lot of his ladies seek the services of Eunuchs, as they are more reliable, sexually.
  8. He has LIMITED SPEAKING SKILLS. Now, granted, a hero is not supposed to be the most verbose of individuals. Not every divine Action Jackson can be Moses, kicking butt while spewing forth the word of the Lord God. But Hercules can barely put two sentences together, or write his name in the ground with a stick, for that matter. A series of wine soaked grunts and olive pit belches usually result when attempting to converse with him, and when he does manage a coherent sentence, an odd thing occurs; his lips don't match the words he is saying. It is like he is a big ventriloquist's dummy, except without the human manipulator and a heck of a lot more wooden.
  9. He's LAZY! Now, every once in a while, a brawny beef caked brave man like Hercy-poo deserves a little rest. A small amount of R & R. To recline on his elbow, as the Romans are want to do and enjoy a tiny repast. But this man of steel completely abuses and misuses the privilege. Having obviously been bitten by every teetsy fly in all of Sparta, this 285-pound pansied pachyderm can barely maintain an upright position. More supine than supple, he is the only semi-human alive that can find the rotting hull of a Greek barge a Sealy Posterpedic Morning. Even in the middle of battles he is dozing, more likely to catch forty winks than thieves. Let's face it; if relaxation were divinity, this guy would be Zeus' dewlap.
  10. Hercules CHEATS. He does not fight fair (when he can fight). Your average enemy only has his wits, his weapons and his own personal space to use in defense of himself and his realm. Hercules uses things like temples, mountains, cathedrals and ships as his tools of protection. It's kind of hard to defeat the mighty mass of muscular mental dystrophy when he is swinging a chariot at you. You throw a spear, he throws an obelisk. You fire a slingshot; he grabs a couple of rubber trees and aims the Colossus of Rhodes at your Adam's apple. Hardly seems rational, does it.

So what, you say. So what if he is a poorly drawn action hero character from a series of equally poorly made foreign sword and sorcery films that seem to have been funded more on grappa than lira and similarly plotted on same. So the sets were lame, the supporting cast was in descript, the woman beastly and the stunts comatose. There is some redemption in his tales of woe. Every once in a while, a dingus in a teenage comic book fan makeup class reject mask wanders onto the plywood and plaster of Paris scenario and attempts to thwart Hercules. And after the grunting and the groaning and leering and the moaning, the faux foe is vanquished and the human boulder stumbles to the ground for a catnap. Sure, he may seem fuzzy and overly shaped, but he is still good, and he still triumphs (be it with a little physical trouble) over evil. Hercules is still a champion, albeit an idle idol worth his weight in lethargy. He must have some value to the republic, correct? Right, and Lyle Alzado died of hemorrhoids.

"Jenny For Your Thoughts" by Kismetgirl88@hotmail.com

Hey everyone. How are you? I'm okay, just writing this column. Well it's Turkey Day again with no marathon. Stinks doesn't it? I miss Turkey Day. My favorite parts of the day (besides seeing how late I could stay up before passing out) were the cool little Bumpers in-between episodes with Dr. F and Frank. They were always funny.

My favorite one was in '95 when Mr. B, the Kitten With a Whip, Pitch, and Jack Perkins came over to Deep 13. My second favorite (and the one that ties into this article) was the year Dr. F roasted all these turkeys and made Frank eat them. So I was thinking about different ways to make turkey MST3K style with Pearl and Bobo. Well, here are my suggestions. Note that I'm not sure if any these ideas will work or if they will be edible, so beware.

Well, that's about it. If you have any ideas for an MST3K turkey, e-mail me at Kismetgirl88@hotmail.com. Now I've got to get cooking.

December MST3K Schedule on SFC

North America
{All times are Eastern and tentative}
12/02/00 - 09:00 am - 1002 Girl in Gold Boots
12/09/00 - 09:00 am - 1008 Final Justice
12/16/00 - 09:00 am - 0913 Quest of the Delta Knights
12/23/00 - 09:00 am - PRE-EMPTED FOR "HOLD THAT GHOST"
12/30/00 - 09:00 am - PRE-EMPTED FOR "EMPIRE OF THE ANTS"

Classifieds 3000

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All material written by club members in this publication does not necessarily reflect the views or opinions of the staff of MSTies Anonymous. Endorsement of above publicized activities not operated by MSTies Anonymous should not be implied. Published material is subject to editing only for spelling, grammar, clarity, and formatting; other changes are not made without express written consent of the author.

Mystery Science Theater 3000, its characters and situations are copyright 2000 Best Brains, Inc. This publication is not meant to infringe on any copyrights held by Best Brains, the Sci-Fi Channel, or their employees. "Gizmonics" and all related elements are copyright and trademark Joel Hodgson. This publication is not meant to infringe on any copyrights held by him, so please do not sue us.

2000 MSTies Anonymous
The Poobah
Jet Jaguar kret0419@blue.UnivNorthCo.edu
Zen Psycho zenpsycho@yahoo.com

"It sucks on toast."

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