Asked whether he could do today what he did decades ago, he said no.
“Times have changed,” he said. “What I did then was a very different world, totally different.”
Category Archives: R.I.P.
God, how I hated their stuff.
You see, before Filmation came along, I’d already seen Japanese cartoons such as Astro Boy, Marine Boy, Prince Planet, and Speed Racer. They all had style. They were all cool.
It was only much later that I appreciated the fact that Filmation — and Hanna-Barbera — basically kept American animation alive, even in the sorry state of “illustrated radio.” They kept American animators employed, even if the work might have caused them to go home at night and drink themselves to sleep. Hey, at least they still had a home and could afford the drink! That is still something.
To be fair, I loved The Archie Show, just like everyone else. And The Fat Albert Show. So when they weren’t doing superheroes or SF, I could watch because the pace was slower than the hyperactive storytelling I’d gotten spoiled on by the Japanese.
It wasn’t just the challenge of keeping animation alive in America that Scheimer and others faced. In the 1970s, there was a noxious group called Action for Children’s Television that managed to stick its blue-nosed snout into the TV networks and was intent on making everything as bland as possible. ACT once published a handbook. In the back was an appendix that condemned every single TV show I loved as kid. They were the Nazis of TV. They were PC before the term was even invented. (Luckily in the 1980s, companies again imported Japanese programs, dubbed them into English, and re-exposed Americans to anime. ACT withered and died in the face of the popularity — and profitability — of those programs.)
So, while I didn’t think much of Filmation, I have to give Lou Scheimer his due for sticking it in a very hostile environment.
Rest in peace.
Mr. Clancy was an insurance salesman when he sold his first novel, “The Hunt for Red October,” to the Naval Institute Press for only $5,000.
That publisher had never released a novel before, but the editors were taken with Mr. Clancy’s manuscript. They were concerned, however, that there were too many technical descriptions, so they asked him to make cuts. Mr. Clancy made revisions and cut at least 100 pages.
The book took off when President Ronald Reagan, who had received a copy, called it was “my kind of yarn” and said that he couldn’t put it down.
Dr. Pert was working at the Johns Hopkins University School of Medicine in the 1970s when a team she was on found one of the most sought-after objects in brain research: the receptor in the brain that opiates like morphine fit into, like a key in a lock, allowing the drug’s effects to work.
The discovery of the opioid receptor would, in 1978, earn the coveted Albert Lasker Award, often a precursor to the Nobel Prize. The award went to Solomon H. Snyder, who headed the lab. Neither Dr. Pert nor any of the other lab assistants was cited.
Such omissions are common in the world of science; the graduate student in the lab rarely gets credit beyond being the first name on the papers describing the research. But Dr. Pert did something unusual: she protested, sending a letter to the head of the foundation that awards the prize, saying she had “played a key role in initiating the research and following it up” and was “angry and upset to be excluded.”
Her letter caused a sensation in the field. Some saw her exclusion as an example of the burdens and barriers women face in science careers.
In a 1979 article about Dr. Pert in the The Washington Post, Dr. Snyder, who had lauded Dr. Pert’s contributions in his Lasker acceptance speech, argued that “that’s the way the game is played,” adding that today’s graduate students will be tomorrow’s lab chiefs, and that “when they have students, it will be the same.”
I heard of her story back then and I was glad she stood up for herself.
Just because something is a tradition doesn’t make it right.
A brilliant woman who is gone too soon.
Other than his Nixon interviews, I have nothing to note. He seemed to be all over the place in the 1970s yet wasn’t one of those people you could exactly pin down. Even with so few channels, television had that kind of space back then.
New York Times: Elmore Leonard, Who Refined the Crime Thriller, Dies at 87
Wikipedia: Elmore Leonard
Before Tatiana Maslany did all the clones in Orphan Black, there was Karen Black playing three different roles in three different stories in one unforgettable TV movie: Trilogy of Terror.
Yes, she had many other roles. But when the fates conspire to give you something that’s immortal, you don’t complain. And only she could have pulled it off.