Episodes

  • Halloween 2023 Special
    Oct 20 2023
    When it comes to horror and comedy I’ll admit my tastes can get pretty corny, and when Halloween rolls around they get extra CANDY corny.On that note, here’s two audio goodies to pop into your plastic pumpkin treat collector.The first segment of this podcast is all in good fun—and hopefully doesn’t land me in court. As for the second segment, I had to assure my wife, the hobby gardener, that I wrote this piece almost a dozen years ago and it has nothing to do with her. However I did notice that lately she’s been spending a lot of time sharpening her garden tools. I’m sure it’s just a coincidence.Please enjoy the show.The Transcript (For those who want to read along or can’t understand my ridiculous accents.)The Zombie DR. Wuth ShowSOUND: RADIO DIAL TURNING THEN MUSIC ANNOUNCER: It’s that time once again for the Zombie Dr. Wuth Show! Sex and Relationship advice for Monsters and their loved ones. Now here she is, fresh from the morgue, Zombie Dr. Wuth!SOUND: APPLAUSEZOMBIE DR. WUTH: Velkommen Everybloody! I’m Dr. Wuth, your undead devotee to sex and relationships! I’m here with my new assistant Ted who will be helping me to take your calls.RIGHT, Let’s get into it tonight, shall we?Hello Caller, Voo are on der Air! How can Zomibie Dr. Wuth help you?CALLER: (heavy Breathing. Sound of Wolf howl.)ZDR: (Sound of disconnect) ACK! I always get der heavy breathers! It must be my ghoul looks! Next Caller!ASSISTANT TED: Doc It looks like we have a man named “Vlad” on the line 2 for you.CALLER (Vlad): Helloooo Doctor. ZDW: Tell me, Vat’s yer problem?CALLER (Vlad): I’m having a problem vid my brides.ZDW: BRIDES? JUST HOW MANY BRIDES YOU GOT?VLAD: Usually 3 to 5, but it really depends on da century. But I’m thinking I might just stick to being a bachelor. Da women today are just too demanding. Blah! My last couple of break ups with have sucked me dry! Folks may call me a blood sucker but none of dem have met my wives’ lawyers! Oo boy! BLAH!Thankfully when you’ve lived as long as I have you learn how to bury your valuables in more than one grave, if you know what I mean. HA! HA! HA! But honestly, all I vant is to catch a quick bite with a nice girl and have her not be a crypt-digger!I tell ya, It’s driving me batty!ZDW: Vlad it sounds like the next time you’re looking at a pretty neck, perhaps ask the lady for a pen and get her to sign a “Pre-nip Pre-Nup!” NEXT CALLER!ASSISTANT TED: We’ve got Ann on the line 3 and she’s got question about height differences effecting relationships.ZDW: Go ahead, Ann. Tell me your problem. CALLER (Ann): (Woman with Brooklyn accent) Hello Doc. Do you think a big height difference can be detrimental to a healthy relationship?ZDW: It depends. How much of a height difference are we talking about?CALLER (Ann):CALLER (Ann): A couple hundred feet.ZDW: Ah.. I see. Go on… CALLER (Ann): Well, I wouldn’t mind this big hunk so much since he’s got a nice head of hair, and a body to match, but sometime his jealousy can be too much! ZDW: Really?CALLER (Ann): Whenever he sees me even looking in the direction of a man, he goes storming off. Next thing you know, we have to hash things out, like every weekend from the top of the Empire State Building!He says it’s the only place where he can gather his thoughts and quietly discuss his problems. Which is kind of a lie when you consider he spends the whole time swatting at planes!ZDW: Ahhh, it sounds like vat you have is the classic Aggressive/ Accommodating Struggle in a relationship. He gets aggressive, and you accommodate his rages. Dis is a form of emotional abuse the two of your share. You should end things immediately him! —Just be sure to do this somewhere in New Jersey since I have a nice condo in the building next to the Empire State Building! NEXT CALLER!CALLER: (heavy Breathing. Sound of Godzilla.)ZDR: (Sound of disconnect) ACK! I don’t have patience from you Wisehiemers! NEXT CALLER! WHO’S ON THE LINE TED?ASSISTANT TED: We’ve got Jerome on the line 4.ZDW: Hello Jerome, Tell me, vat’s yer problem?CALLER (Jerome): Hi Zombie DR. Wuth. I’m hoping you can help me with my husband. He’s constantly booking surgeries with our Doctor…Doctor Victor Frankenstein. He’s a wonderful surgeon. He’s practically a miracle worker! Anyhow, my hubby is always at his lab, getting a nip here, a tuck there, a new limb, eyeball, whatever. But no matter what he has done, hubby immediately regrets his decision and goes rampaging through the west village and disrupting the nearest drag performance. It has the local queens so upset they’re threatening to burn down our brownstone! What should I do Dr. Wuth?ZDW: Ohhhh. Dat is drastic! A real conundrum. Lemme me chew this over with my assistant and pick his brain a bit. CALLER (Jerome): Oh thank you, Dr. Wuth.ZDW: Teeed?ASSISTANT TED: (intercom): Yes Dr. Ruth?ZDW: Will you come in here?(door open sounds) TED: Yes?ZDW: Come a little closer Ted.Ted: ...
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    10 mins
  • Problems, Solutions, and the Cost of Both
    Aug 29 2023
    This Podcast is a part of a related post on Substack. Click here to read that. An astrophysicist, a politician, and a priest were taking a walk in a park while they discussed the finer points of cosmology, science budgets, and the religious implications of space travel.Just as they were about to exit the park, a flying saucer dropped out of the sky and landed right in front of them.The three stopped in their tracks at this sight. As they stood there, wide-eyed and in shock, a hatch opened on the spaceship. From it exited a small green alien dressed in a nicely tailored business suit. The alien walked toward them. The three noticed that the alien was carrying what looked to be a book.“Greetings, Earthlings!” The alien spoke in perfect English. Although if truth be told, to the trained ear it spoke with a slight Brooklyn accent.“I am a representative from the Intergalactic Fidelity Publishing Company here to offer you ‘Intergalactic Truths and Solutions.’ Within the pages of this book are answers to the universe, as well as solutions to your world’s problems. These fine leather bound and gilded books are made available to you so that you may achieve a more harmonious and perfect world.”“Will it solve Global Climate Change?” inquired the astrophysicist.“Yes! Volume. 2, Page 237.” the alien replied.“World Hunger?” asked the priest.“Volume 3, page 45.”“Wars and Political Strife?” asked the politician.“Indeed! Volumes 6-7, pages 78, 156 and 459.”The astrophysicist rubbed his chin in thought and, “When you mention ‘volumes,’ I see that the book you’re currently holding reads that it’s only Volume 1. Where’s the other volumes?”The alien’s face lit up with a smile as he spoke “Ah, how observant of you! Yes, for only a small monthly subscription we will send you a new volume each month. ”The politician was the first to grasp the situation and blurted out “Subscription? Wait a minute—”But he was interrupted by the astrophysicist, “—You’re an extraterrestrial encyclopedia salesman!”“It’s a living. Think of me as more of a ‘messiah’ offering you a better world. Seriously, think about how much the children of your world need this book. You’ll barely notice the cost of the subscription fee compared to the benefits.” the alien offered in his best honest sales appeal.The politician was getting visible perturbed, “Who knew our first off-world emissary would arrive with a sales pitch!” He then became demanding, “Please, no more beating around the bush. What’s the cost for these books?”“The Intergalactic Fidelity Publishing Company only requires that you to send us five priests every month in exchange for each volume.”“Errr…What do you do with these men of religion?” The priest asked with more than a hint of ambivalence.The alien moved a little closer to the priest and replied, “We eat their brains! Blind faith makes for the sweetest tasting brains in the universe!” He then showed the priest a toothy, saliva dripping smile.“WHAT! THAT’S UNACCEPTABLE!” Screamed the priest.The alien tried to assuage the priest’s dismay. “Don’t worry. We do this in the most humane way possible. While each subject is sedated, we gently scoop out their brain and replace it with a highly evolved, symbiotic flan. Afterwards, we return these individuals back into their natural setting. Honestly, friends and loved ones hardly notice any difference!”“THAT’S NOT HELPING TO CONVINCE ME!” The priest shrieked hysterically.The politician turned to the priest, grabbed his arms and shook him. “Now just calm down. Is it really that bad of a trade? We send them a few of our more nutty fundamentalists and in exchange we get a paradise on Earth.”“Seems like a very reasonable contract to me.” the astrophysicist chimed. He then spoke to the alien, “May I have a closer look at that Volume 1 you’re holding?”As the alien handed over the book to the astrophysicist, the priest turned to the alien and asked, “Can it be any priests, or preachers, from any religion or denomination? I mean…ugh…I guess we could start with some Episcopalians…”The alien hissed, “Mmmmm, Delicious!”The priest started mumbling to himself and walking in circles as he considered further denominations for the exchange.Suddenly two shots rang out!The priest and the politician both dropped dead to the ground. The alien turned to the astrophysicist who was holding a gun on him.The astrophysicist scowled, “No sale, my green-skinned book hustler! According to Volume 1, page 1, line 1:‘The secret to solving a world’s problems is to first get rid of all priests and politicians!’We astrophysicists have been saying this for years! Once that’s done, we’re smart enough to figure out the rest! Earth doesn’t need your books! BE ON YOUR WAY!”The alien, upset that he failed on the sale, shrugged his shoulders, took back his book, and turned ...
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    7 mins
  • A Small Update
    Jul 7 2023
    Let me apologize for the delay in posting comics. The July 4th Holiday and then a bit of home construction pushed back my schedule a bit.Once you hear a more detail description of what I’ve been up to, I’m sure you’ll understand that certain events were out of my control, or more accurately, slipped out of my control.A Small UpdateMy wife calls me a “small man with small measurements.” This wonderful little nickname arose about twenty years ago during our drives we’d take in upstate New York. On each weekend we’d pick a different destination and take a shot as to how to get there. Since I didn’t own a GPS unit and smart phones weren’t invented yet, all I had to rely on was a well-worn Rand McNally map tucked inside the glove compartment.Invariably though, during every one of these drives, my wife would require a bathroom stop, exactly when we were in the middle of nowhere.I would try to ease her bathroom urgency by telling her that a rest stop was just a mile or so down the road. It took her a few years to realize that I was speaking in terms of “a country mile,” which anyone who grew up in a rural setting knows that this means a distance ranging from 1 to 50 miles.I guess it was about the 30th time that I used this ploy when Deb lost all patience with me.“JESUS CHRIST! YOU DON’T KNOW WHERE THE NEXT GAS STATION OR REST STOP IS, DO YOU?” She screamed at me.I calmy replied, “What? Like I said it’s just a mile or so up the road. We’re practically there! Look at the map in the glove box!”I knew Deb, the perpetual New York City urbanite, couldn’t read a road map to save her life. This always bought me a few miles before she went nuclear on me. However this time, I guess the launch codes were plugged in and the piss missile was about to exit the silo.She yelled, “GOD DAMMIT, FLYNN! YOU’RE A LIAR! YOU KNOW WHAT YOU ARE? YOU’RE A…YOU’RE A… YOU’RE A SMALL MAN WITH SMALL MEASUREMENTS!FIND ME A BATHROON NOW!”With a command like that, a person becomes extra motivated to go full speed to the next available toilet.Fast forward to today. I may have waited some twenty odd years to prove her wrong about my measly measuring abilities, but alas, I did!I waited until we owned our first home together to prove to her that my dimensional estimating abilities were above par. This fixer-upper we owned was purchased, partly because that’s all we could afford, and partly because I saw it as an opportunity to show my measuring prowess.This was due to the fact that so many things needed repairs: Floors, Windows, Closets, Toilets, Walls, Ceilings and the Doors. To make matters worse, not a square angle or standard measure can be found anywhere in this hobby built hovel. From what I could tell the home was built in the 1940’s by a man who was crosseyed and only measured in cubits.Despite all those negatives, this place was a perfect testing ground for me to dispel my wife’s opinion of my survey abilities. Oh, I made a big show out of every project. Huffing and broadcasting my every move with a variety of tape measures, rulers, straight edges, snap lines, angles, and even a map compass if I needed it! Loud exclamations of my exactitude in analyzing the distances between points A and points B were made with every cut. I wielded a tape measure like a samurai sword. I was the shogun of Measuredom.Then finally my coup de Grace came when we decided to replace the back doors on this house. They were moldy, old French doors that barely functioned. Every year required some kind of maintenance to keep out old man winter. Squirts of Caulk around the cracks. Weather stripping over weather stripping. The doors where looking more like the gates of Hell than anything even remotely designed by the French. Finally a few months ago my wife lost patience with this abomination and decided to order a new door. She wanted to also pay for the door’s install, but I convinced her that was wasted money. Since I had installed all the windows surely a door install was well within my capabilities.And so the first thing before we ordered the door, I set about to measure the space for the new door.As I went into the garage to get my trusty tape measure, I thought to myself that this project would once and for all truly would prove to her my measurement mastery!I calculated out all the sizes need to replace these doors: The inner casing width and height, The outer molding width and height, and the overall depth of the door.I wrote it all down, along with a diagram, on a 3”x 5” piece of paper, as if it was the tiniest of treasure maps. Once that was done, off we went to the local big box hardware store.We approached a sales associate in the door department, who was a gentleman named Bob. Bob was in was in his early 70s, and had all the friendly attitude of an old west bartender who’d just been insulted about the quality of his whiskey.When I handed him my 3” x5” card, Bob had expressed, that ...
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    10 mins
  • A Robot Walks into a Bar
    Mar 16 2023

    I don’t know about you, but I spend at least two hours every week on the phone and screaming into automated phone systems, “Operator! Operator! Representative! …Human! Let me talk to a Human!”

    This experience on its own makes me very apprehensive regarding the use of Artificial Intelligence in any way, shape, or form.

    If you’ve read any Issac Asimov, Arthur C. Clarke, or even older, Karl Capek, you know one thing: That all robots are not to be trusted and they hate humanity!

    Of course we really can’t blame AI and Robots for this hatred. If Humans are the creators of these machines, and we’re are one of the most screwed-up, self-destructive species on the planet, then it’s no big surprise we’d create something as equally funny in the head.

    It’s been a while since I released a new podcast episode so I thought I have fun with this one. This episode is dedicated to the hilarious insanity of our future robotic dystopia.

    Here’s a list of the segments on this podcast:

    0:00 - Intro

    0:25 - The future of computers

    1:45 - AI Insult Comic

    4:40 - By the end of the Century

    5:00 - Doc Bot 5000

    8:08 - No, that’s Good!

    8:41 - Extistential Computer Humor

    10:11 - Rent-a-Friend

    19:43 - Outro

    I hope you enjoyed the show. A new cartoon will be heading your way shortly.

    Cheers,

    Ed

    Useful Links to Consider:

    https://ledger.humanetech.com/ - The Center For Humane Technology has created a factoid site that presents the invisible harms to society which uncontrolled social media and information distortion is having upon us.

    https://www.humanetech.com/course - a Course to help people train those who are creating technology to remember to build it with humane standards in mind.



    This is a public episode. If you’d like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit www.erflynncomics.com/subscribe
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    20 mins
  • The Escape From Clown Town Halloween Special
    Oct 29 2022

    This is a Halloween Special episode of The Escape from Clown Town podcast that features creepy music, scary sounds and stories plus and array of weirdness to amuse any fan of Halloween.



    This is a public episode. If you’d like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit www.erflynncomics.com/subscribe

    This is a public episode. If you’d like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit www.erflynncomics.com/subscribe
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    41 mins
  • Two Parables About Conformity and Authoritarianism
    Jul 3 2022
    Given what’s occurred in the country recently, I thought I’d make a podcast episode that points out just some of the foolishness of where the United States is and where it might be headed. But I’ll leave the final analysis of these stories for you to decide the meanings.The BeachOne sunny day, a man drives his modest gas-practical little car to a beach at the shore. He parks his car on a street near the beach and proceeds to walk to it. Upon entering the beach, he then takes off his shoes so he can enjoy the feeling of the sand and sea water massaging his feet.Meanwhile, another man drives his giant gas guzzling four by four jeep to the beach at the shore. He drives fast and recklessly, screaming at the slower cars to get out of his way. He is looking forward to being on the beach, where he can then loudly play his music while barbecuing steaks on the large gasoline powered grill he’s loaded onto the back of his jeep.Once he’s arrived to the entrance of the beach he sees there are others just like him who have driven their large jeeps, trucks and SUVs onto the beach. Resembling an encampment of an invading army, or perhaps more like the burning oil fields of Iraq during the gulf war, the other drivers have set up their large grills next to their autos and are enjoying the beach enhanced by the smell of burning meats.The man admires his fellow gas hogs and then looks down the beach to see a lone man walking on the beach. He huffs in scorn at he man’s foolishness. After all, why bother to walk to the beach when one can drive up as close to the water as possible? The man in the jeep then precedes to push his gas pedal to the floor as he charges onto the sand. Unfortunately, the man has made an error in judgment. Due to all the other jeeps, truck and SUVs also charging onto the beach, the sand at the entrance to the beach has been churned up and softened into a series of lumpy sandy tire traps. As the man attempts to speed onto the beach, he finds that his Jeep gets quickly mired in the sand. He tries to put the Jeep in reverse to back out of the holes his tires have dug into the sand, but the aggression with which he uses to gun the engine only sinks his tires deeper into the sand.The angry man gets out of his jeep to inspect the situation. The oversized tires on his auto are nearly buried in the sand. He yells over to his fellow Jeep, truck and SUV brethren for help. However, they pay no mind to him, as they’re listening to their music too loudly while filling their bellies full of grilled meat.Other large vehicle drivers, who are a bit more careful, enter the beach and pass by the man, giving neither a glance his way nor an offer of assistance to him and his hopelessly stuck jeep.The man tries to call a tow truck but he finds that his cell phone has no service.Meanwhile down the beach, the man who was walking on the beach has had a sufficient amount of the sand and sea water gently massaging his feet. He decides to leave the beach.As he walks off the beach he sees the distressed jeep driver and the collection of selfish other drivers. He makes a wide path to avoid them as he exits the beach and heads back to his modest little car parked on the street. Upon arriving at it, he shakes some sand off his shoes, enters the car and starts it up. As he drives off, the man looks into his rear view mirror and catches a glimpse of the entrenched jeep driver who is now screaming and cursing at his vehicle.The man smiles and drives away.Soviet ScissorsYuri Popovich sat at his boring and repetitive job on the production line in the Comrade Khrushchev Scissors factory. He watched the scissors die-cutting machine stamp and spew scissors to the conveyer belt. As he sat there he thought about his squalid little state supplied apartment and how it needed plumbing repairs; Its mildew stained walls also badly needed painting. Yuri then thought about how the apartment lacked electricity at certain times of the day, and how the apartment also never had adequate heat during the long, cold Leningrad winters.He then reflected on his inability to buy a decent loaf of pumpernickel bread, or even purchase a stick of butter, or a jar of jam to smear onto a slice from one of those scant loafs of bread.It was thinking of a nice dollop of jam on toast, which motivated him to make the slightest of adjustments to the scissors die-cutting machine. Not a major adjustment, just a minor twist of the dial. Enough to make one side of the scissors off by just a minuscule 1/10th of a millimeter.After doing this, he watched the scissors getting pressed and move down the production line. He subtly smiled, satisfied that his adjustment introduced a small bit of chaos to this mundane rundown world.When his shift was over he was still smiling as he passed his comrade co-worker, Sergey Totopnick, who replaced his position on the line for the second shift.Sergey wondered what Yuri had reason to smile about. It wasn’t like the ...
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    12 mins
  • The Memory Salvage of History
    May 1 2022
    In this episode let’s talk about memory.Did you ever consider what you’d be if you didn’t have any memories? Would you be the same person? Would you have the same values? Would you be without any sense of conscience or morals to know what’s right or wrong? Think about it. Memories are the core of your essence. Your experiences and what you remember of them are the human operating system that guides your every decision in life. It’s the algorithm of memory that expands and reconfigures with each new day of existence. It could be said that memories are what defines the soul of a person. They give us the ongoing narrative that helps us through our lives.But the thing about memories is that while they feel true, they aren’t an exact recording device of the past.In fact, memories can be outright fabrications, created by our minds to justify an action, or to assuage some emotional pain.Neurologist Oliver Sacks knew this and spent much of his career delving into the mysteries of the human mind. He studied how memories are conscious or unconsciously created and blurred between experience and fiction in the context of viewing the past.Over the course of the past two years I realized this fascination with memory and history has also been a theme in my own life.It was partly inspired by my father’s own experiences delving into Genealogy. Back in the early 1990s he created histories of the four different family lineages that made up our ancestors. At the time this wasn’t easily achieved since the internet was barely in its infancy. Dad had to travel quite a bit to visit state and local historical societies and search their records; he traveled to Washington DC to look at government census and immigration records, plus he even made a trip out to Salt Lake City where the Mormon Church kept records on just about every American.There’s a whole reason and history behind the Mormon collection of family records for which this podcast doesn’t have the time to get into. But let’s just say that the LDS wants to make sure that none of their members are left out of their heaven when the Apocalypse comes.I’m fascinated by the detective work required to discover the lost strands of the truthAnyhow, I inherited my Dad’s interest in history and this was amplified by my college education. I got into courses on medieval art and church aesthetics. This later grew into an interest in ancient cultures and other religions. After college I got into videography and that developed into getting schooling on documentary film making.It was in that training that I learned one of the main tenets of documentary film-making: Memories aren’t reliable evidence.This fact intrigued me to pursue documenting the past. I’m fascinated by the detective work required to discover the lost strands of the truth that lie within those cloudy memories of the past.Most of the time these investigations always start with an audio interview, or recording that I’ve discovered.For example I was hired by Tryon Creek State Park, in Portland, Oregon to document the creation of the park. The history was known but was quickly fading from time since many of the founders were getting very elderly or passing on. This is when I was brought in to interview one of those founders, Lucile S. Beck.After I gather any audio history, next comes the search for corroborating evidence to validate it. These searches include going to Historical societies and libraries for related old newspaper articles, archived photos, and any other related stray data. When properly stitched together in the proper historical context, they clarify a forgotten narrative, or reveal a universal truth. Whether it’s a personal documentary or an organizational history, the search and discovery involved on these projects is half the thrill.Fast forward to now, while the past couple of years of the pandemic may have stymied my film making pursuits, I’ve channeled that historical sleuthing of memory into the comics I post on substack.comI used to be more into creating cartoons that satirize current events and politics, but I’ll admit after what we’ve all been going thru over the last two years, I started to feel like it was a form of depressive doom scrolling.So instead, I decided to plum the sunny past for the fodder of my comics and thankfully I have a wealth of experiences to choose from.I’ve traveled the world, met a fair share of celebrities and oddballs, done ridiculously dangerous stunts, and experienced tragedies that most can relate to. So here I am madly illustrating 50+ years of wild, hilarious misadventures while also keeping an eye out for new ones.The current project I’ve been creating is a compendium of stories from my days in a struggling local rock band in upstate New York in the early 1980s.The band, which we named Hammer, was only around for a couple of years but during that short life span we managed to survive a slew of ludicrous events: insane bar ...
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    13 mins
  • How I got Monster Mania.
    Mar 24 2022
    I grew up in the small town of Elmira in upstate NY during the 1960s. This was a time when there wasn’t the internet or Cable TV to connect us 24/7 to the world and all its distractions. Instead we only had 3 local TV and radio stations, a couple of public libraries and a few local news stands.One of those newstands was Rubin’s Cigar and News Stand in downtown Elmira. Each week I would eagerly anticipate the trip Dad and I would take to Rubin’s. He would go there to buy a Sunday Newspaper while I would scan the stands for issues of Mad or Cracked. I was an avid reader of these magazines and could always cajole my Dad into buying me the latest issue. But one Sunday I noticed an issue of Famous Monsters of Filmland calling out to me.Famous Monsters of Filmland was a visual gateway drugIt was issue #52 and on the cover was the vampire Barnabas Collins from Dark Shadows. Dark Shadows was an afternoon gothic soap opera about a Vampire who returns from the grave, and in a nutshell, basically bothers his descendants. It was a huge hit in 1968 and since Dad knew that I watched it with my Aunt, who would babysit me and my sister during the afternoon, he thought that Famous Monsters was a perfectly harmless Hollywood rag. Oh how little he knew… Famous Monsters of Filmland was a visual gateway drug to the bigger world of horror and sci-fi movies, and then comic books, that would twist my little mind into the artist I am today.Warren Publishing which produced Famous Monster of Filmland also put out Eerie and Creepy Magazine. These were horror comics in a magazine format which exempted them from carrying the seal of the Comics Code Authority. The comic code authority was created in 1954 in response to a drummed up phony public concern over gory and horrific comic-book content. But thanks to the Code being self-governed by the comics industry publishers who chose to not use the comic-book format were free to have content as gruesome and as ghoulish, and as adult, as they wanted.I discovered these two magazines, Eerie and Creepy, not at racks of Rubin’s, but at the Drugstore down the block from my grade school, while I snuck out during lunch recess to buy some candy bars with my lunch money.Yes, back in those days kids could easily sneak out from school to go back home for lunch, or down the block to the drugstore, or to some park…without the threat of abduction…mostly.Anyways, once my young little eyes feasted on the mind-blowing art between the covers of Eerie and Creepy, I then saved up my week’s lunch money all month to buy each issue when it hit the stands. Between the Famous Monsters, Mad and Cracked magazines I would con my Dad into buying, and the Eerie and Creepy mags I bought on my own, I was amassing quite a collection. The space under the bed in my bedroom was filling up to the point where it was starting to make my bed kind of lumpy.However my addiction for horror monster mags was only made worse by Saturday Afternoon TV. That’s when Channel 3 out of Syracuse would air MONSTER MOVIE MANTINEE. This show would feature schlocky horror and sci-fi movies from the 1930s to 1950s which TV stations would acquire from distributors who marketed these movies in bundles with such great names as “Shock!” or “Sci-Fi for the 60s”.Stations around the country who were desperate to fill their airwaves with content (and advertising) saw the potential for success in such programming that would keep a regular audience for weekly late night horror showcases. This in turn gave rise to the what we now know as the late-night horror host.While other TV markets had the late night Vampira, or Ghoulardi, or Zacherle hosting the creature features. Channel 3 in Syracuse opted for a Saturday afternoon show which followed Saturday Morning cartoons in order to keep the kiddies tuned in. The show was hosted by a Dr. E. Nick E Witty and his servant Epal. They really made the program worth watching thanks to their ridiculously low budget and low brow humor, which of course young boys, like myself, found hilarious.The show opened with a mix of music lifted from the scores to various American International horror movies. See if you can recognize what Film the music is from in the following samples.As the music played, the studio camera would pan over an obvious model of a haunted house on a hill enshrouded by quickly evaporating dry-ice fog.The shot would then fade into and interior shot of a single hand playing an organ’s keyboard (or writing in his “book of Records” or from inside a coffin). Each of the hand’s fingers was tipped with comically large and long black fingernails and rings adorned each finger. The hand would start to articulate like a Revlon hand model as we began to hear “Kind Host’s” Dr. E nick Witty’s voice introduce the show. His servant Epal would usually walk on stage as the camera zoomed out.This banter between Witty and Epal would continue before and after each commercial break ...
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    12 mins