Thursday, March 29, 2012

Goofy Retro Baby Ads, Part 1

In this post I make fun of baby-themed print ads circa 1980-1982.


"It could only be Johnson's Baby Lotion." That, or strawberry yogurt being impaled.



Finally! Remember when opening high chair trays required TWO entire hands? Remember how you had to put the baby on the floor while you wrestled with the chair, and half the time the baby would crawl away and get lost and the other half of the time you'd forget what you were even doing until hours later, when you would find your youngster outdoors, hunting for game and cooking it over an open fire? ...
 Never again.



My dad used to go to a barber who had three chairs in his waiting area that looked remarkably like this carseat. I feel like this baby ought to be smoking a cigar and shuffling a deck of cards.



Cushies claims a new, easy-to-open container. I don't buy it. Even in 2012, I have trouble getting these things open.



Buy Evenflo, get a free airhorn!



The driest ad I've ever seen.



Lysol used to make maple syrup?



So... does she use the same cloth in all four of those pictures? And in that order?



Copy written by Jennifer, age 22 months.



I get that the water probably only looks yellow because the tub is yellow, but the art director was clearly asleep at the wheel, here. ALL WRONG.



I know where to buy these things already. Great Aunt Myrtle's estate sale, duh.



INFINITE reclining positions! It can recline back, really far back, upside-down, and even fourth-dimensionally! The Maxi Taxi: For when you want a really embarrassing name attached to your stroller.
(A quick google search reveals the brand is still around, but it's still a cheesy name, dangit.)



Yes, ask your mother. Ask the woman who your baby has apparently never seen before and is also highly suspicious of. Go on, ask her! :D


For more, check out Part 2!

Sunday, March 25, 2012

There's A Trope For That - Week of March 25 - *Random Trope Edition*

This Week's (Random) Trope: Demonic Dummy

"You've all heard of monstrous mimes and creepy clowns. Well, rounding out the Trilogy of Horror Vaudeville-any is the Demonic Dummy, otherwise known as the evil ventriloquist's doll. A ventriloquist is, as you probably already know, an entertainer who tries to convince an audience that a non-living thing (in most cases, a puppet) is alive and talking. Now this act, though odd, probably wouldn't be too offputting an entertainment — except that nine times out of ten, when a ventriloquist's puppet appears in a series or movie, it will be a hideous, dwarven creature who crawled straight out of the Uncanny Valley. The Demonic Dummy occupies a prominent place in the darker recesses of the human subconscious — it is nitro-burning Nightmare Fuel for viewers both young and old. 

Classical-style ventriloquist dummies are the most popular, but anything from a sock puppet on up can fall into this category. See also Creepy Doll, Murderous Mannequin, Perverse Puppet and Consulting Mister Puppet."

Well, well, well... as intriguing as that Murderous Mannequin trope sounds, I think I have a bit to say about this one!. And by "a bit," I mean a small bit, because my memory has only offered me three examples, and two were puppets (Mr. Woodchuck and Lamb Chop) so I guess I can only think of one real dummy, and that was on Buffy The Vampire Slayer. 


Man, I loved that show.  In an early episode, Puppet Show, this ventriloquist kid has a dummy, and right away you can tell something is not right with it. Its eyes shift. It can move. And terrible things are happening all around him. So of course, you immediately think dummy = evil. But things are rarely what they seem on Buffy. (Unless, of course, it SEEMS as if Glory = annoying. In that case, your assumption would be absolutely correct.)

I have to say, though, dummies aren't nearly as off-putting as ventriloquists themselves. I hate it how they talk without moving their lips. It's not natural. They must be stopped. And while we're at it, let's take out magicians, too. They're always hiding elephants and stuff, and it bothers me that I can't figure out how they do these wily tricks. And FURTHERMORE... 

No, actually, I'm done here.


Molly vs. The Machine


The other day I had an MRI.  I'd never had one before and I was kind of scared because, you know, big giant tubey thing... 
claustrophobia... 
entrapment... 
magnets....
Yeah, magnets.  Benign & innocent, no? Ah, but the ones that live in MRI scanners are scary powerful, much moreso than their refrigerator-bound cousins. A projectile oxygen tank, attracted by MRI magnets, even killed a person once. Yikes. Anyway, here's a picture of the machine...


The worst thing about the process wasn't the encasement, really. I didn't mind being in the tube. It kind of felt like a cocoon. And it wasn't the noise, either, although that is definitely a minus (think: 20 dentists and 42 carpenters waging an impromptu war over who can do the loudest drilling job... two inches away from your head.) What sucked the most was having to keep completely still for an entire hour. Shoot, even at the dentist's they let you spit. Of course, I had no way of keeping track of the time in there. My head was put in a traction thing, my arms were, I dunno, somewhere. It was very strange and uncomfortable. 

I wasn't sure how much time had passed (but it was a lot) when I finally heard the technician say, "Okay, just seven more minutes..."

YAY!

"...and then we'll be giving you the shot of dye and put you back in."

Well, crap.

First off, don't tease me like that. Second, I don't like getting shots. Seriously, f that.

But somehow I made it through the shot and the second half of the experience, and when I was finally liberated I drove straight to the Panda Express and bought fried rice and honey walnut shrimp with a soda, half diet Pepsi, half raspberry iced tea. Mmm.

Afterwards, I was thinking about how awful it had been to have to lie in one spot for an hour, and then I remembered that there are some people that have to do that always. Yes.... people in iron lungs.


Oy, do iron lungs terrify me. But they also fascinate me at the same time, not unlike rickety staircases, the Titanic, the 60's, and old playgrounds. Iron Lungs have a valuable purpose (although modern technology has given us better, smaller options) but they're just so... metallic and enormous and machanical and... eeshk.

BUT... if you think having to lie in a MRI tube for an hour is bad, try being in one of those bad boys for six decades! (See? Again with the whole "perspective" thing. Always valuable.)

Amazingly, it's been done -- out of necessity, yes, but still, I have to admire the folks. People like:

Dianne Odell - who went into an Iron Lung at age 3, and died at 61, and
Martha Mason - who went into one at age 11, and died at 71.

Can you imagine having to lie flat on your back for 60 years? The thing is, though, both of these women, as far as I can tell, led good, full lives. You should read about them. And maybe there are more. Really, they seem like great ladies.

But that machine still gives me the creeps.


Tuesday, March 20, 2012

Perspective

So this entry is about porta-potties.

Well, sort of.

First I want to talk about Bingo. You know, the game old people play.  I've played it four times in the past month and am a little weary of it. Three of the times were at school fundraisers, so that's my excuse... the other time was just for fun. But one thing that stuck out in my mind was how different each of the experiences was, in terms of the quality of the prizes and the fanciness of the Bingo cards themselves. 

At one event, the cards were made of flimsy paper and we had to mark our numbers with a crayon. 


At another, the cards were tattered and dirty and had actual "checkout date" stamps on the back going all the way back to the 70's.


Then at one game, the cards were so posh that if you were finished with a round, you simply had to move the tab of the free space, and it would automatically clear the whole card for you. Like magic!

Now, about porta-potties...

Ta-da!!

Bingo cards and porta-potties are related, you see. Hear me out.

Throughout my long life, I've encountered many different types of portable bathrooms. 

There's the old standards -- the kind that you find at carnivals or construction sites (a place where I've spent oh so much time) -- basically just a hole in a box, no sink, very ghetto. I really hate these. Their scent is unfabulous and the "occupied" sign and the lock are often faulty, which can result in some embarrassing situations.

A slightly fancier event (a wedding, perhaps) may require units where the toilet "flushes" and a little sink is inside the structure for guests' cleansing convenience. One company I found online even offers the units in "Wedding White." Ooh la la!

Think it can't get better? Oh, but it can. For example, there's this. The "VIP Unit." The first line of the description on that website is equal parts hilarious and offensive: 

"Not everybody who attends your event organized belongs to the same class." 

The grammar is awkward, but the message is clear: Jack Dawson need not apply. You are so not worthy of peeing in style, pal. Go back to third class.

The best portable restroom I ever encountered in real life was one of these. It was on a film set, and I told everyone about it afterwards. "Hey, Molly, how'd it go, did you meet any of the act--" "YEAH, FINE, BUT DID I TELL YOU ABOUT THE PORTA-POTTIES?!?  THEY WERE THE BEST! ALLOW ME TO DESCRIBE THEM IN INTIMATE DETAIL!! OMG THEY HAD LIGHTS AND WERE HEATED AND THEY FLUSHED AND...."

You know, it's funny how getting to spend three minutes in an awesome porta-potty can really boost your mood for the next few months.  It's like being upgraded to first class on an airplane or having a mysterious stranger pay for your meal at a restaurant. (Note: these things have never actually happened to me. But I can imagine.)

And it gets me thinking.

Some people may only ever encounter the most lavish restrooms and the fanciest of Bingo cards. They won't ever truly appreciate what they have, because they don't know how good it is compared to what else is out there.

Others may only ever get to take a potty break in a broken-down outhouse and make do with rustic Bingo cards. They'll be okay with that, but they won't get to experience the thrill that comes with encountering something fancy and amazing every once in a while.

But when it comes right down to it, no matter who you are or what you have, whether you do it with style or with the bare essentials, you're going to get the same result: you're going to get to play Bingo and you're going to go to the bathroom.

But you know what? I like that I've gotten to experience both ends of the spectrum. I know what all is out there, I know what I like, and I feel 
pretty 
darn 
lucky.
:)




Sunday, March 18, 2012

There's a Trope For That - Week of March 18

This week's trope: Easy Amnesia

"In the real world, amnesia is rare, and it can last anywhere from days to a lifetime.

On TV, amnesia is just a plot device for the current episode or movie. Everything and anything the character knows about him or herself may be lost, or just the last 24 hours may disappear — it's completely dependent on the plot. 

If the victim recovers, it usually occurs by the end of the episode, with the character simply bonking their noggin a second time (conveniently ignoring the fact that this is likely to make things worse, not better)."


I chose this trope this week because I love it.

Mwahaha.

Like many things in TV and movies, the trope doesn't reflect real life. In reality, amnesia is a terrible thing. It shouldn't be taken lightly. But in fiction, it's a super fun toy for writers to mess around with. (More accurately: it lets the writer mess around with their poor, helpless characters.) One great reason to give amnesia to a character is so he forgets where his home is, and everyone thinks he is dead. Works great with shipwreck survivors, soldiers, teenage runaways, and so on. Later, a happy(?) reunion can occur and the amnesiac can get his life back. Another good reason to give a character the ol' conk upside the head is so that he or she forgets something important, such as a murder she witnessed or a superhero's secret identity he accidentally discovered. The memories can then be recovered sometime later in the season at an opportune time, or maybe never at all, but there's always the possibility the memories will return, and this keeps the audience guessing.

But just like anything, Easy Amnesia has its pitfalls. Writers can go too far. They can torture their viewers... even alienate them completely. 

So I've decided to make a list. I'm calling it: Okay, you can give your character amnesia, but whatever you do, DON'T...

  • Don't... do it more than once. Just like jokes get less funny each time they're told, bouts of amnesia get less tolerable each time they're played out. Besides, plot-reuse is a sign you're losing your touch. CREATIVITY. GET SOME.

  • Don't... break apart a romantic couple by conking one over the head, leaving them with no recollection of his beloved. Especially don't do this when it's a couple that the audience loves, and you darn well know it. You think you're clever, TV show writers? Just wait till your ratings plummet! See how clever you feel then! RAWR.

  • Don't... Turn the amnesiac into a raging idiot. Amnesia doesn't make you a moron. You don't forget basic skills. You don't start acting clumsy. (Then again, the clumsiness could be a sign of something more serious the character sustained from the initial head injury... er, wait a minute, when did I turn into House?)

And finally, and possibly most importantly...

  • Don't... cause the amnesia by having the character get hit on the head by a coconut.
It's been done.


Saturday, March 17, 2012

Language Acquisition


Over the past year, I've made a half-hearted attempt at learning Spanish using Rosetta Stone. A malfunctioning computer coupled with a lack of time/energy to pursue the subject has hindered my progress, but I have made it through most of the first CD-Rom and can now understand and speak a little bit of EspaƱol.

The process of learning Spanish has done something else to my brain. It has sparked a bunch of memories... memories from many moons ago... in which a young Molly (that’s me) attempted to grasp her first language, English.

Sure I remember learning to speak. I even remember learning to walk. You'd think I'm crazy, but... well, I am crazy. It's still true. No, I don't remember uttering my first word, but I do remember the exact instant I learned the meaning (or double meaning) of certain words and phrases.

In the Rosetta Stone series, the language is taught to you by giving you some basic verbs, nouns, and adjectives. Once you've mastered a few of those, they throw in some conjunctions, modifiers, and then start making you crazy with the -o and -a endings and their whole Usted/formality crap. (It's crap. Seriously. There are at least four different ways to say "nice to meet you" in Spanish, depending upon whether you're a male or female, whether the person you're speaking to is a male or female, and whether the person you're speaking to you is a respected elder or a doofy kid/equal. Dah, just PICK ONE!)

My recollections tell me that my first-language acquisition happened in much the same way. It started out with a few words that I understood: Table. Food. Milk. TV. I could see these objects, I understood that a spoken word represented them, and (best of all!) I realized I could use them to get what I wanted.

Soon I was recognizing that words often came in strings called sentences, and sentences could pack a lot of punch. They kept your listener's attention for a wee bit longer, and they had more meaning. Instead of saying "TV" which a parent could translate as "Oh, yes, that's a TV!" or "Yep, televisions exist!," the child could now say, "I want to watch TV. Smurfs specifically." Communcation = improved! Misunderstandings = lessened!

Even after I mastered sentences, language continued to confound me in other ways. Inflections had little meaning at first. Sarcasm was taken literally. Idioms were taken literally. Analogies were a minefield. There were so many facets to understand beyond just the words themselves! Heck, I feel like I'm still learning, sometimes.

Thanks to Rosetta, my brain has recalled several childhood incidents in which my newbie English skills tripped me up or caused me great confusion. I thought I'd share some with you.


Word Association

One of my first moments of confusion, and I admit this one’s minimal, was as a very young thing, hearing the phrase “What’s going on?” I knew the word ‘on’ because I’d seen my mother pull a lamp chain and say “on”, “off,” etc., for my learning benefit. So when this person asked the above question, my mind went directly to that lamp chain.


Words With Multiple Meanings

-In Kindergarten, I thought I heard the teacher speak my name (it turned out he'd said the name of another kid whose name rhymed with mine), and I went over to see what he wanted. When I got there, the teacher looked at me with confusion and said, "Oh, did you think I called you?" To me, the word 'called' had exactly one meaning: dialing someone up and speaking to them on the telephone. So I was flummoxed. Well, I thought as I stood there, I remember my mom DID say that my teacher called our house one time to speak to her. So yes. The teacher had 'called' me. On the phone. That one time. So... I nodded. And the teacher smiled and told me to go back to my playtime. And I was horribly confused until I finally made the connection sometime later.

-As a youngster, we never discussed flatulence in my family. In fact, I'm pretty sure I never even noticed when it happened or even knew it was a thing until I got to elementary school, and some of the older kids would say this mysterious phrase, "passed gas," sometimes shortened to just "pass," and then point and mock. (This was the 80's. The word "fart" existed. I don't know why nobody used it until we were older. But anyway.) So somehow my brain connected "pass" with, you know, farting. (I'll just call it that. It's easier.) My brain also knew "passing" when it came to passing around food at the dinner table, and I understood that was different, but I think those were the only two contexts in which I understood it. 

So...

1. On the last day of first grade, on the school bus, an older neighbor asked me if I'd "passed." Horrified, I said no. She was like "No? What do you mean? Of course you did. Didn't you?" I was offended. I had NOT done that disgraceful thing of which she was speaking! Turned out she just meant, had I passed first grade and been promoted to second grade? Oh, whoops.

2. A year or two later, our school counselor came to speak in our classroom. She gave us the spiel about how this was a safe environment, we could talk to her about anything, etc. She had a poster with a list of guidelines on it. Things like, "Everyone is important" and "Use positive words."  One of the guidelines, right there in black and white, was: "It's okay to pass. You don't have to say anything unless you want to." Hmmm, interesting, I thought. If someone passes gas, it's okay, and you don't even have to own up to it! This rule seemed kind of out there for this poster, but hey. I was glad she'd addressed it. So few did.


Words That Sound Like Other Words

-I was scared of our hairdryer because it was a brand called Big Shot. I thought ‘shot’ meant the same as ‘shock’ and that this hairdryer's goal in life was to electrocute me, even if I never even went near the bathtub.

-I thought Kraft macaroni & cheese was called cracked macaroni & cheese, and it sounded terrible. (But oh, was it delicious!)


Taking Things Too Literally

-I thought a honeymoon was a big, round, yellowish room, possibly in outer space, where husbands and wives went to sit around and make doe-eyes at each other. For snacks? Honey, of course. Sure, it all seemed a bit bizarre, but then again, so did marriage.


Those are the ones I can remember right now. If I think of more, and if they're halfway interesting, I'll add them here. But for now...  Es hora de cama. Necesito dormir. Like whoa.



Sunday, March 11, 2012

There's A Trope For That - Week Of March 11

This week's trope: Death Of The Hypotenuse!

"Alice, Bob, and Charlie are in a Love Triangle. Alice loves Bob, but also has feelings for Charlie — or maybe she doesn't, but can't or doesn't want to turn him down (maybe she's even in a relationship with or married to Charlie while pining after Bob). However will she resolve this dilemma? Well, fortunately, she doesn't have to — Charlie meets with a convenient illness, accident, or other such fatal situation, freeing Alice up to go after Bob without guilt. If Charlie is aware of Alice's feelings for Bob, he may tell her with his dying breath that she shouldn't mourn him too much, because he wants his beloved to be happy

This trope is where The Plot Reaper meets Cleaning Up Romantic Loose Ends. If Charlie's death is not so accidental, it's Murder the Hypotenuse or The Uriah Gambit, depending on whether it's done directly or set up indirectly. See Comforting the Widow. Compare to Ship Sinking. May still be a Bittersweet Ending and even lead to Dead Guy Junior."


First off, I love the name of this trope. Second, you don't get much more deus ex machina-y than this. Third, I kinda love this trope.
What better wait to get rid of an annoying third wheel who's come between two people who, dangit, really ought to be together?

Oh sure, you could have one of the members of the couple do the noble thing and merely break it off with the hypotenuse (see: Anne Shirley and Gilbert Blythe), but why be reasonable, when you can instead have a good old-fashioned massacre?

Don't get me wrong. I don't think death is necessary. Take The Wedding Singer, for example. In that film, [Robby and Julia meet, and are destined to be together, but are with other people. Soon after, Robby's fiancee lets him go. Later, we learn that Julia's fiance, Glen, is a cad. Robby woos Julia, they fall in love, and Glen gets shoved into an airplane bathroom by a beefy guy out to protect Billy Idol and a flight attendant. Everybody wins!

So there are ways around it.

But death, why, it is quick and clean.

Well, no, it isn't. And actually, it's pretty shameful. It's like, Really, writers? Is this the best you could do? 

I refuse to reference Downton Abbey again. But those who have seen season two will know who I'm talking about. Oh, all right, fine, I'll talk about freaking Downton, but I won't name names! [So. Downton. One of the hypotenuse deaths this past season only caused more problems for the couple, so that one can be excused. The second death in season 2 -- well, it seemed to cause problems (one of the members of the A-couple felt overwhelming guilt over the hypotenuse's death, and declared that he and his love could never be happy because of it.)] But one episode later, they'd pretty much thrown that out the window and were all XOXOX. Blame the hormones, I guess. 

And Rest In Peace, poor, expendable Other. :(



Thursday, March 8, 2012

Fun Modern Tabletop Games (And why I secretly hate them)

Agricola


Agricola, the game of a million pieces, takes a while to learn, but once you've got it down it can be a lot of fun. Over the course of slightly over a dozen rounds, you and your fellow players place tokens on available cards in turn. The cards might say things like "take wood," "build fences," or "plow a field." If someone takes the card you were after, too bad, wait til the next round. After every few rounds it's time to "harvest." Here you must slaughter your animals (represented by tiny wooden blocks) or bake bread (a combo of yellow wooden circles and an "oven" card) to feed your family (more wooden circles.) If you can't feed your family, you go into debt. The game ends after the final round and everyone counts up their land, animals, grain pieces, etc. in a convoluted points system that determines the most successful of farmers.

Why I hate it: My brother always beats me.


Settlers of Catan


You place your wooden pieces and then let the dice decide your fate. Collect elements such as wheat, wood, and brick, and combine them to build roads, settlements, and cities. Buy Development Cards to add some extra points. Trade with others. The winner is the first person to 10 points.

Why I hate it: There are only like three ways to win, so you'd think I could manage it every now and then... but you'd be wrong.


10 Days In The USA (Or Europe. Or Asia.)


Randomly place 10 travel cards on your board, resulting in a logistical nightmare. Then, on each turn, you may exchange one of your cards for one in a series of piles. Slowly but surely, you'll build a travel itinerary that could actually be plausible. 

Why I hate it: There's only one card for each state, so if you need Texas and somebody else does too, your whole plan goes to the loo. (The European edition combats this problem; as there are fewer countries than there are US states, some countries are duplicated for our convenience.)


Dominion


Online or in card form, Dominion is a game where you use Coin Cards to buy Action cards, then use both Coin and Action cards to acquire Victory cards (the green ones.)  Some Action cards are better than others, and sometimes it takes a while to figure out what strategy to use. There are also Attack cards, which you can use to strip your opponent of his money, confidence, and livelihood.

Why I hate it: They're always coming out with new cards, which I guess is good because it changes the game up a little, but the learning curve would put Lombard Street to shame. Annnd my brother usually beats me.


Ticket To Ride


Pick destination cards, then use little plastic train pieces to build your routes. You must acquire colored cards and use them to put down trains. Can you make it from San Francisco to New York? Oh hey, lots of points, there! Feeling confident? Draw MORE destination cards! Build an entire fleet, why don't you? Tycooning is fun!

Why I hate it: Need to go from Boston to Las Vegas? Whoops, all the tracks to Las Vegas are taken, too bad! The more players, the worse time you'll have making the routes you want, leading to frustration, tears, and a myriad of little plastic trains strewn across your home.


Trivial Pursuit


Answer questions! Impress your family and friends with your superior knowledge! Collect little pieces of pie! Who doesn't love pie? 

Why I hate it: It makes me feel like an ignoramus. Even when I play the 90's Edition, I'm left feeling kind of empty, because while I DO get a lot of questions right, they're either about Titanic or the Spice Girls, and frankly, that doesn't make me proud.


In conclusion...

I don't actually hate any of these games. I play them often. In fact, I wish I was playing them right now!! :D

Sunday, March 4, 2012

There's A Trope For That - Week of March 4

This week's trope: The Smurfette Principle

"The Smurfette Principle is the tendency for works of fiction to have exactly one female amongst an ensemble of male characters, in spite of the fact that roughly half of the human race is female. Unless a show is purposefully aimed at a female viewing audience, the main characters will tend to be disproportionately male. 

In many series, men will have various different personalities, but women will always be The Chick. Thus, by the Law of Conservation of Detail , you only need one."


Even as a little kid, I noticed this happening in a lot of the shows I watched. 

The Muppet Show: 
Males: Kermit, Fozzy, Rowlf, Animal, Gonzo, Skeeter, Waldorf and Statler, Swedish Chef, Beaker, Bunson
Female: Miss Piggy*

MASH:
(yeah I watched MASH!)
Males: Hawkeye, Klinger, B.J. Hunnicut, Major Winchester, Father Francis, Colonel Potter, Radar
Female: Hotlips Houlihan*

Ducktales:
Males: Scrooge, Launch Pad, Gyro, Huey, Dewey, Louie, Duckworth, The Beagle Boys, Flinthart Glomgold; later, Bubba and Fenton/Gizmoduck.
Females: Mrs. Beakley and Webbigail; Ma Beagle and Magica DeSpell occasionally.

But where was I? Oh yeah. So it never really bothered me. Having just one regular female on the show meant that that person was special. Translation: girls are special and awesome. They are SO awesome that if there was any more than one per show, the TV set would... um... explode, I guess.

Of course, there were exceptions. The Cosby Show was female-heavy, at least until Martin and Elvin joined the cast, evening things up a bit. Then, Martin also brought with him Olivia, so at that point the main cast included four males (Cliff, Theo, Martin, Elvin) and six females (Clair, Sondra, Denise, Vanessa, Rudy, Olivia). 4:6... not too bad of a ratio, there.
 
-MORE EXAMPLIFYING-
As a teenager, my favorite show, Lois & Clark, went crazily male-centric at the end of the first season after Tracy Scoggins (Cat) left the show. Lois, the lone female, was surrounded by Clark, Perry, Jimmy, Jack, and Lex Luthor (count: 1 female, 5 males.) By the beginning of season 2, Jack and Lex were gone, but that still left things at 3:1, and adding Clark's parents to the mix (they appeared in roughly 59% of the episodes) still put it at 4:2. And that's if you don't count Superman as an additional character, but then, why should we? All it is is a costume. Right? RIGHT?

Another favorite, The Pretender, had Jarod, Sydney, Broots, Mr. Raines, Mr. Parker and Mr. Lyle vs. Miss Parker (whose very presence, granted, was equivalent to several members of humankind) and occasionally the awful Brigitte. 6:2. I guess you could count Miss Parker's mother as another female, but then why not also count Angelo? Or Jacob? Or Sam the Sweeper? Or DO YOU HAVE ANY IDEA WHAT I'M EVEN TALKING ABOUT, no you probably do not, I am totally talking to myself, here.

SO ANYWAY!
Let's examine my current favorite shows for male/female proportionality!

Community: It was pretty even... four males, three females... until Chang and the Dean joined the regular cast; now it's 6:3.

Downton Abbey: Ha, I jest, this one is swarming with females. Lord Grantham's got all daughters. Plus a wife. Plus a mother. Plus there's Matthew's mother. And a slew of maids and things.

Oh crap! I just realized most of my favorite movies are male-heavy! (I don't know why I'm saying oh crap. I think I've already said I don't care if males outnumber the ladies. BUT ANYWAY...)

Beauty and the Beast
Males: Beast, Gaston, LeFou, Maurice, Cogsworth, Lumiere, Chip, Philippe, Monsieur D'Arque (Total: 9)
Females: Belle, Mrs. Potts, the wardrobe with six lines, the featherduster? I guess? (Total: 4, and that's being generous.)

Back to the Future
Males: Marty, Doc, Dave, George, Biff/Griff/Buford/Whoever, Biff's 3 cronies, Strickland (Total: 9)
Females: Lorraine, Clara (arguably a strong character, but only in the third film), Linda, and Jennifer, who is parked on a porch swing and left to rot for a movie & a half. (Total: 3.56)

Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade
Males: Indy, Henry, Salla, Marcus, Walter Donovan, the Nazi general, the grail knight, Kazim (Total: 8)
Females: Elsa. And, um, well the only others I can remember appearing in the movie at all are the Nazi who yells "alarm!" at the castle and the random extra who holds up her ticket on the zeppelin. (Total: 1.002)

Dang, that may be the worst one yet!
 In conclusion, NONE OF THIS MATTERS ONE IOTA, and goodnight.



*Yes, I know there were a few minor female characters who sometimes showed up and were all "hi, other female here," but let's face it, nobody cares about them.