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pride parade viewers at the big popsicle
(A relatively long edition this time, bear with.)
sorry, maude, you didn't make the list
menu screen from 'mickey, donald, goofy: the three musketeers'
About three weeks ago, I wrote about the long term decline of cable access TV, once one of Seattle’s most fertile loci of creativity.
Today, of course, we have online video streaming.
This is so much more convenient for niche-audience programming in several ways. Viewers don’t have to tune in at any specific time. They can easily catch up with past episodes. They can watch wherever they have a computer (or tablet or smart phone) and a broadband or WiFi connection.
And with contemporary digital video gear so much cheaper to buy (or rent) these days, low-budget and no-budget producers can accomplish quite a degree of slickness.
Take for example The Spit Show with Indus & Raquel (produced by Indus Alelia, written and directed by Dan Desrosiers, hosted by Alelia and Raquel Werner).
Like many cable access comedy shows of the 1990s, The Spit Show consists of comedy and music bits, with continuing characters and a loose storyline.
But unlike those older shows, it has fancy production values and is edited with brisk comic pacing.
And without a weekly time slot to fill, it can put out episodes of any length (more or less 10 minutes) at a relatively leisurely frequency (four episodes since February).
Alelia and Werner aren’t asking you to be home at any particular time. They’re not asking you to invest 29 minutes into deciding whether you like their work.
But if you do like their work, they’d like you to keep coming back.
"rupert bear," ironically, was and is a comic in the non-murdoch owned london express.
The sometimes fiercely divided left and progressive factions in the U.S. are today united on one overriding desire.
They’d all like to see the phone-hacking and bribery scandal at Rupert Murdoch’s British newspapers result in the collapse of Murdoch’s American media empire.
Especially of the (deservedly) fiercely-despised Fox News Channel.
Could it happen?
Lefty pundits are pondering possible scenarios that could potentially lead to the sell-off and /or dismemberment of Murdoch’s stateside properties.
Such a move, these pundits guess, could be triggered by shareholders deathly afraid of the Murdochs’ sullied reputations ruining News Corp.’s American brands. Even if no direct link surfaces between the U.S. properties and the Murdoch U.K. papers’ scandals.
I’m not so sure.
If forced to do so, the Murdoch family could sell off its stock in, and retire from leadership of, the Fox broadcast network and its 27 network-owned stations. That move could avert any challenges to those local stations’ FCC licenses.
(Most Fox broadcast affiliates are owned by other companies. Here, KCPQ is owned by the Tribune Co.)
Such a spinoff could leave the Murdochs still in charge of the 20th Century-Fox film studio, along with its TV-production and home-video divisions. Rupert and his offspring could still own The Simpsons, even if they no longer owned the network on which it airs.
The family could also sell what’s left of the once mighty Wall Street Journal and Barron’s;Â perhaps to Bloomberg.
The assorted Fox cable channels are another potential matter altogether.
For one thing, the FCC doesn’t oversee the ownership of or content on cable channels.
And when Viacom spun off its former subsidiary CBS into a separate company again, some of Viacom’s cable properties (MTV, CMT) stayed with Viacom, while others (Showtime, The Movie Channel) became part of the new CBS Corp.
The Murdochs could sell off FX, Fox Movie Channel, Fox Soccer Channel, Speed, Fuel TV, Fox’s distribution/marketing contract with the National Geographic Channel, and its partnerships in the remaining regional FSN sports channels.
And they could keep Fox News Channel and Fox Business Channel.
Just to spite us liberals.
And with the money they get from selling their shares of all those other properties, the family could even keep subsidizing the New York Post for a few more years.
(Answer to yesterday’s riddle: The $25,000 Pyramid.)
It’s a shame so many modern-day folk only know Roald Dahl as a “children’s writer.” He was more of a gruesome fabulist, some of whose stories were marketed as children’s fare.
Even the most famous screen version of his darker side, the once ubiquitously-rerun UK TV series Tales of the Unexpected, isn’t widely associated with Dahl. He hosted the show’s first two seasons, which mostly were adapted from his prose. After he quit the show, it continued another seven seasons without him. The show became noticeably lighter in tone as it evolved further away from Dahl’s conceptions.
But for straight-no-chaser Dahl misanthropy, though, there’s no better visual source than ‘Way Out. (Yes, it was spelled that way.)
It was one of the last prime time anthology shows made in New York. It was produced by David Susskind. Dahl introduced the episodes and wrote only the first, an adaptation of his own story William and Mary. But they all display a devilish cruelty.
Of the 14 episodes produced in 1961, five have made it onto the collectors’ circuit, and from there to YouTube. Those can all be found at this link.
Most of them have no sympathetic or even likable characters. There are no Rod Serling moral lessons, and no Alfred Hitchcock ironic twists. It’s all morbid and deadly.
Which, of course, made it a commercial flop.
And so much fun.
You can tell you’re not in Serling-land right at the opening logo sequence. It’s a series of human hands, reaching up in futility from the ground (buried alive?).
vintage 1940 trolley bus from seattletransitblog.com
all my children newspaper ad 1986
Just when we had programmed the ol’ DVR to record the final two months of All My Children, came word that it (and sister show One Life to Live) might just come back from the dead like Lazarus Tad.
ABC announced it had licensed both long-running daytime soaps to something called Prospect Park, a production company run by ex-execs of Disney (ABC’s parent company). The venture would continue production of new episodes, to be shown online only (not on broadcast or cable TV).
Given that online advertising draws far fewer bucks per viewer/reader than broadcast or print advertising, and given that no five-day-a-week scripted TV drama has succeeded anywhere but on the traditional big three networks (except the noble experiment that was Norman Lear’s Mary Hartman, Mary Hartman), many commentators on soap-themed online message boards have doubted the viability of such a venture.
Now comes word that there might be a government subsidy involved.
Really.
The unconfirmed rumor is that Prospect Park was waiting for, and received, money from some grant program intended to help jump start “new media ventures.”
That’s just one of the many still unanswered questions about this supposed reprieve for two of entertainment’s most venerable brands, for stories that have unfolded for more than four decades.
When will they be revealed?
Apparently very slowly.
Seattle loses a major community institution this week, quietly.
SCAN TV (Seattle Community Access Network), the nonprofit that’s operated the city’s public access cable channel for more than a decade, closes up shop. SCAN declined to bid on another contract to run the channel, after penny pinching city bureaucrats slashed the funding for its operation.
The Seattle Community College District’s SCCtv agreed to take over the channel at the vastly reduced funding level. The new iteration of the access channel, renamed Seattle Community Media, starts Friday. For the first few weeks, as SCM gets its technical infrastructure together, programming will be limited to rerun episodes of shows supplied by existing SCAN citizen producers.
With the change comes the closing of the access studio on N. 98th Street east of Aurora. Starting in 1983 (when Group W Cable opened it as a condition of its city cable contract), the Northwest Access and Production Center’s modest 30-by-40-foot main studio hosted an astounding array of artisanal TV. Citizens signed up for time slots, took training classes on the gear, and created all-volunteer productions, some quite elaborate.
That room was known as the “big studio.” There was also the “small studio,” a walk-in closet with one camera and a control console; producers strove to stretch that room’s capabilities, even producing musical variety shows (albeit starring very small combos).
SCM will reinstall the SCAN equipment on the North Seattle Community College campus, just a few blocks east of the old site. This means producers will still be able to make multi-camera, studio-based TV shows, as well as single camcorder, field-based video footage.
But nothing on the new SCM channel will be cablecast live.
That means (1) no call-in segments, and (2) no in-studio surprises. In-studio mistakes, yes, but no surprises.
•
At the access channel’s peak of popularity in the mid 1990s, a Seattle Times feature story described its panoply of programming.
There was music of every conceivable genre, including some of the earliest footage of Soundgarden and other future “Seattle scene” stars (and should-have-been stars).
There were ethnic cultural programs ranging from Chinese to Somali.
There were single-issue discussion and monologue shows advocating everything from gun rights to alternative medicine.
There were preachers of every theological stripe, including UFO religions and atheism.
There was the Rev. Bruce Howard, a music teacher who created (and successively re-created) his own spiritual discipline, evolving from fire and brimstone to (relatively) happy folk singing. (No, I don’t know whatever happened to him.)
There was Philip Craft’s Political Playhouse, in which the sometimes naked host offered up interviews and comedy skits expressing his flavor of radicalism (politicians = bad, marijuana = good). Craft later moved to L.A. and helped make a low budget film based on his experiences, Anarchy TV.
Another lefty political show, Deface the Nation, had a vegan cooking spinoff series called All You Can Stomach.
There was the drag queen cooking show Queen’s Kitchen and its sequel Love, Laverne (a live sitcom).
There were other home brewed comedy ventures such as Bend My Ear Seattle (with hosts Chardmo and Johnny 99 and house band Hot Dog Water), The Make Josh Famous Half-Hour of Garbage, and Gavin’s Hawse (with Gavin Guss, later of the neo-pop band Tube Top and now a solo singer-songwriter).
There was Richard Lee’s Kurt Cobain Was Murdered, in which the steadily crazier looking and sounding Lee reiterated, week after week for years, his specious conspiracy theories. Lee eventually ran for mayor in 2001, showing up at a debate with a beard and in a dress.
There was deadpan comic MC Spud Goodman, one of the two access stars who graduated to “real” TV, hosting bizarre skits and local bands for four years on channels 22 and 13.
There was the other later-made-it-big guy, serious public affairs interviewer C.R. Douglas, who took his insightful chats with local political leaders to the city-owned Seattle Channel (retiring earlier this year).
And there was the call-in show Bong Hit Championships (did what it said on the tin).
In 1999, the access channel had already begun to fade from public awareness. That’s when the city engineered the creation of SCAN, and put the new nonprofit group charge of the channel.
One reason was to remove Comcast AT&T (which, through mergers, wound up with most of Seattle’s cable subscriptions, which would soon after be sold to Comcast) from the responsibility to enforce limits on the channel’s “free speech” policies.
Producers were forbidden from airing commercials or soliciting money on the air. Otherwise, pretty much any content was permitted. Officially, programming wasn’t supposed to violate federal “obscenity” guidelines.
But with a no-prescreening policy in effect, some producers dared to sneak stuff past. Michael Aviaz’s Mike Hunt TV and T.J. Williamson’s Fulfilling Your Fantasies included uncensored excerpts from hardcore porn videos. Aviaz’s show ran off and on for nine years, getting kicked off for good in 2006. Williamson stopped submitting X-rated shows, but continued to program non-controversial travelogue videos under the name Adventure TV.
One of the ’90s access stars, monologuist-painter Shannon (Goddess Kring) Kringen, is still on the channel today (though no longer prancing naked on camera).
So are a trio of long-running musical shows, Music Inner City, D’Maurice & Armageddon, and Blues To Dos.
This week’s final SCAN schedule includes much the same range of fare the access channel had in its heyday, albeit without some of the edgier fare.
There’s even a madcap comedy-variety show, The VonHummer Hour.
It’s imported from Portland.
The ultimate question should not be, “How could the city defund SCAN?”
It should rather be, “Why was so little done to defend it?”
One reason: In a 200-channel cable TV landscape, this one little unadvertised analog channel lost what local prominence it had.
Another reason: With YouTube and podcasts and video blog posts, a scheduled cable channel is a relatively inconvenient way to distribute and view indie video. And the ol’ WWW in general is a handier way to disseminate niche-audience messages and entertainments (albeit a harder place to find them).
Still, there’s something very invigorating, even democratizing, about people making their own TV and making it available to the whole community to view in real time.
With the right support, SCM could bring that spirit back.
UPDATE: Seattle Community Media has now taken over the channel. The schedule of programs is the same as the final SCAN schedule. The only difference so far is the promos between programs. One of them is a sped-up video of a short drive from the old SCAN building to the NSCC campus, where a small staff stands in wait to proclaim “Welcome to Seattle Community Media.”
If you are a maker of things, a disseminator of knowledge, or anyone who contributes to the collective intellectual output of human beings, do not accept the notion that your work is less significant than a house, a chair, a piece of electronic equipment, or a rock. Do not allow yourself to be labeled as a mere “content creator.†Have more dignity than that.