Back in the day, back when The Rumpus was still pre-launch, curled up in the warmth of its beta gestation, oh, friends, there were video interruptions. And they were good.
One of the first is still one of my favorites, from Get Your War On. I still cry a river whenever I hear, “I’m like Seymour Hirsch on this shit” and, “She’s like a cotton candy Cadillac driven by Abraham Lincoln with a beard made out of diamonds.” Not that I agree—I’ve always been Team Angelina. But it’s proof that while The Rumpus may not cover pop culture, we know a thing or two about it. I also love the hypnotic, old-school joy of a flaming tetherball (wait for it)–another all-time favorite. It doesn’t have to make sense.
Also, long before William Shatner read Palin, he read Rocketman–except in that latter one he is definitely not fucking around. Again, wait for it. He really starts to move–all three of him–at about 3:50.
I realize that most of the videos I love are videos that make me laugh, but that not all laughter is funny. Some laughter is demented. And some is terrifying. Damn, those were the days.
But these are also the days, since those days were only like eight months ago. Like Isaac, I love me some Auto-Tune the News, even though my 11-year-old watches them over and over and, when he’s not watching them, he’s singing them, over, and over, and OVER… but in near-perfect pitch. And before we had Auto-Tune the News, we had Auto Tuning the Homepage, which so desperately makes me want my own auto-tuner. I just know would make me not only a better coworker but quite possibly a better parent.
But as art editor, I’ve got a whole separate list of besties in that category. Among art videos, MUTO wins, hands down. Grapes of Skullz is a close second, partly because of the music, but also because of the skullz. And I adore every single video by Arthur Ganson, but Machine with Wishbone is my favorite.
Oh and this is pure genius, beautiful, strange and inspiring. This, by contrast, was probably intended to be beautiful and inspiring, but is mostly just strange: nothing more than Bono being raped by bankers in suits. Hence, the recession.
As I scroll through the video interruption archives, I see so many that I’ve missed. How can this be? Was I (gasp) working? Was I sleeping? Spending time with my children? What the hell? I watch a few more and my list just grows and grows. I have to stop, but I can’t! Isaac reassures me, “You can do it Julie. Pretend they are pretty birds, but you have to pick your favorites… because those are the ones that live. The rest you eat. So, you know, win win, but pick the best ones.” Nom nom nom.
