Wednesday, February 26, 2014

Review: 'Cultographies: Quadrophenia'

Could Quadrophenia be the ultimate cult movie? It’s a cult movie about a cult (the mod subculture of early sixties England) that inspired a cult (the mod subculture of the early eighties). Although Stephen Glynn selected Franc Roddam’s big-screen adaptation of The Who’s 1973 rock opera as the topic of his entry in the Cultographies series, he does not draw any such hasty conclusions. After all, Quadrophenia was a massive, mainstream hit film in Britain (if only with audiences; critics weren’t too thrilled with its violence and underage unrest). Images from the film popped up in advertisements. On U.S. shores it has long been a legitimate cult item, even enjoying screenings on the midnight movie circuit. And despite his declaration that the film is the “most enduring manifestation” of Quadrophenia, this is not really true— at least in America where the film continues to scuttle underground and the album is now regularly regarded as one of The Who’s best, if not the best.

That declaration is one of the few missteps in Cultographies: Quadrophenia, which is a ripping integration of background history (from the actual mod cult, through The Who’s role in it, through their look back on that phase with the Quadrophenia album, through Pete, John, and Roger’s individual roles in the film’s creation) and analysis. Stephen Glynn is the author of The British Pop Music Film, one of my favorite books of last year. He touched on Quadrophenia in that book and gets to expand his study as a part of the “historical” phase of pop films in Cultographies: Quadrophenia. He also looks upon the film—with its punk attitude and seemingly self-conscious anachronisms—as one very much in step with the Britain of 1979. As was the case with The British Pop Music Film, Glynn drops some overly academic speedbumps during the analytical portion but his book is never inaccessible. Cultographies: Quadrophenia is an insightful and multifaceted study of the four faces of one of the very best pop films.

Get Cultographies: Quadrophenia on here:

Saturday, February 22, 2014

This April, You Too Can Play with The Who! (sort of)

Principal Skinner: Ooh, now we're into the dregs.  Here's Ralph Wiggum's entry. [pulls sheet off] Pre-packaged "The Who" characters, still in their display box?  Are those the limited-edition action figures?
Ralph Wiggum: What's a Who?
Principal Skinner: Why it's John, and Roger, and my favorite, Pete!  They're all here (except for Keith)!  [to Miss Hoover] What do you think?
Miss Hoover: I think it's lunch time.
Principal Skinner: We have a winner!

...and this April, you can be a winner too when NECA toys releases tiny John Entwistle, Roger Daltrey, and Pete Townshend as part of its second wave of action figures based on celebrity guest stars from "The Simpsons". The likenesses are based on The Who's guest appearance in the "A Tale of Two Springfields" episode in which the band performs atop a sort of Berlin Wall dividing the hometown of Homer, Marge, Bart, Skinner, Wiggum, and the rest.

Friday, February 21, 2014

Review: 'Cultographies: Frankenstein'

The benefit of Wallflower Press’ Cultographies is that they allow extended studies of specific films in 100 laser-focused pages. As a devoted Frankenstein cultist, I totally understand writer Robert Horton’s desire to use that particular item as the subject of his Cultographies book. It may not have been the best choice because the topic is so far-reaching (and he does stray from James Whale’s 1931 film to assess the uncountable sequels, remakes, and related films quite a lot) and because other books have dealt with it in a much more far-reaching way. The historical portion, which constitutes one third of Cultographies: Frankenstein, and the final section that looks at the Monster’s place in the larger culture, are like Cliffs Notes for Susan Tyler Hitchcock’s essential Frankenstein: A Cultural History. They offer no revelations for anyone who has already done his/her Franken-homework. The book comes to life for Horton’s 40-page scene-by-scene analytical survey, which is lucid and smart. He’s dead-on in concluding that the Monster’s “bad” behavior all stems from self-defense and poor parental guidance and not his “abnormal” criminal brain. What would you do if someone were shoving a torch in your face? However, the author’s decision to hop over the pivotal drowning of Little Maria completely is a head scratcher of monstrous proportions.

Get Cultographies: Frankenstein at here:

Wednesday, February 19, 2014

Psychobabble’s Ten Greatest Albums of 1989

1989 was one shitty year for popular pop music. Man, did we need someone to come and shake up a scene mired in shitty adult-contemporary (Chicago’s “Look Away” was the number one song of the year!), shitty R&B (Bobby Brown was at number 2 with “My Prerogative”), and shitty, shitty, shitty hair rock (the shitty Poison was at shitty number three with shitty “Every Rose Has Its Thorn”). It was the year of Milli Vanilli and Richard Marx and Will to Power and Debbie Gibson and Warrant and Roxette and Bon Jovi and New Kids on the Block and Mike and the Mechanics and Great White and Bad English. If you were anything like me, it was a year that might have sent you scrambling back to the great records of the sixties and seventies. If you were just a little older and/or a lot savvier, you were hip to what was happening on college radio where the majority of the worthwhile new music of ’89 was being made. As we shall see, a couple of elder statespeople did manage to wade into the mainstream that year, but the big news was with relative newcomers like The Stone Roses, The Pixies, and Nirvana, all of whom were, indeed, shaking up that shitty scene in ways that would become universally apparent after the eighties slumped into the next decade.

10. Bleach by Nirvana

Bleach doesn’t sound like the arrival of a generation-defining band. The playing is stiff, largely due to the not-quite-ready-for-prime-time chops of original drummer Chad Channing. The songwriting is not there yet either, and it’s telling that most of Kurt Cobain’s efforts are outclassed by a Shocking Blue cover that isn’t even “Venus”. That he would put together an LP’s worth of material as strong as Nevermind just two years later is unbelievable. Yet there are indications of Nirvana’s greatness here. After wearing out a copy of Meet the Beatles! Cobain had unlocked the secrets of pop songwriting effectively enough to write the disarmingly simple “About a Girl”, though he hadn’t yet figured out how to marry that sensibility to the squall that consumes the rest of Bleach. Krist Novoselic snakes out his first great bass line in the opening moments of the record, and “Blew” is further indication that Cobain could really write a song. His obsessions raise their misshapen heads often in the ones that follow: the hateful underbelly of Small Town USA (blackly hilarious “Floyd the Barber”), the crushing of teen spirits (“School”), his own perceived freakishness (“Negative Creep”), and his troubled upbringing (“Mr. Moustache”). This is the raw material of a really important and really fucking good band. The pieces haven’t been completely fastened together yet, but they would be soon enough.

9. The Sensual World by Kate Bush

Kate Bush hit a career peak that couldn’t be followed when she unleashed The Hounds of Love in 1985. Four years later she followed it with The Sensual World, a less consistently adventurous record but one just as well crafted and just as thematically tight. Bush immerses herself in the title realm, ruminating on love and lust for everything from the usual sex partners to her computer. Because the sounds are so in line with those of The Hounds of Love—tempestuous drumming, quilts of overdubbed vocals, squealing guitars (occasionally supplied by her mentor, Dave Gilmour), and freeform structures—The Sensual World feels like a belated bookend to that masterpiece, much to its credit. For that same reason, it also feels like a mere great album instead of a great groundbreaking album. Not that big of a shame when The Sensual World is home to such essential songs as the Ulysses-inspired title track and “This Woman’s Work”, a harrowing piece some have interpreted as the fear of a new father whose wife and child face life-threatening difficulties in the delivery room and others as the regrets of a man who already lost his wife. Either way, it shows that Bush still had some unsolved mysteries in her book of spells.

8. The Stone Roses by The Stone Roses

Tuesday, February 18, 2014

Great Video of Pete Townshend and The Who at Work in '67 Surfaces

Yesterday someone posted one of the most enticing film clips mentioned in Andy Neill and Matt Kent's Anyway Anyhow Anywhere: The Complete Chronicle of The Who on YouTube. The footage depicts Pete Townshend unveiling a new composition, "Glittering Girl", for managers Kit Lambert and Chris Stamp (who really seems to dig it). Then The Who rehearse the song on the stage of the Saville Theatre complete with Pete, Roger, and John crowded around a single mic to capture their heavenly harmonies. The footage was originally shot on February 17, 1967, as part of Edmund Wolf's documentary Die jungen Nachtwandler-London Unter 21 (The Young Sleepwalker-London Under 21). Thanks to the original poster and Who super fan Brian Cady, who posted a link to this very cool clip.

Sunday, February 16, 2014

'60s "Batman" Series Coming to DVD in 2014!

After years of rights issues stemming from the multitudinous guest stars popping out of its windows, "Batman" is apparently finally coming to home video this year. Last month the Hollywood Reporter revealed that Conan O'Brien first dropped the news on his twit page. Warner Home Video subsequently confirmed that there would be a complete series on DVD in 2014. No specific release date has been revealed, so don't start holding your bat-breath yet. However, between this and David Lynch's recent announcement that the long-rumored "Twin Peaks" blu-ray set really is coming soon, 2014 may be one hell of a year for classic TV releases.

Thursday, February 13, 2014

Review: 'Cultographies: Faster, Pussycat! Kill! Kill!'

Wallflower Press’ Cultographies are to cult flicks what the 33 1/3 series is to classic albums: focused studies teeny enough to shove in your breast pocket. So perhaps it is appropriate that the series’ first new title to slink into print in a year and a half is devoted to Faster, Pussycat! Kill! Kill! You know, because Russ Meyer liked breasts. Hardy-har.

Actually, as open-minded cineastes have realized for quite some time, Meyer’s masterpiece is more than an ogle-fest, packing themes that have alternately been labeled feminist, patriarchal, parodic, pro and anti-erotic. For the most part, writer Dean J. DeFino wisely steps back to allow these themes to make their cases and exit stage left instead of forcing theories down our throats, because to do so when dealing with the work of a filmmaker as apolitical and instinctive as Russ Meyer would be kind of silly. Not that DeFino never allows his academia to get out of hand. An extended comparison with satyr plays brings the momentum to a labored halt for a chapter comprising a quarter of this 100-page book. There’s nothing inherently wrong with the casting of Varla and her gang of pussycats as Dionysian figures and the men they conquer as weak and wanton satyrs. It’s just that the rest of Cultographies: Faster, Pussycat! Kill! Kill! revs out so much good stuff about the film’s genesis, production, position in sixties culture, reception, impact, and cult qualifications that I wanted to bust out of the college classroom and back out on the road, Daddy-O!

I was also greatly appreciative of/frustrated by DeFino’s detailing of how poorly served this film has been on home video. Faster, Pussycat! is the KA-BOOM! at the impact point between exploitation and art house cinema. It’s too bad this boldly and beautifully shot picture is not readily available in quality much better than a YouTube stream. Is it too much to hope that DeFino’s book might raise some interest in correcting that wrong?

Get Cultographies: Faster, Pussycat! Kill! Kill! On here:

Sunday, February 9, 2014

Turn Left at Greenland, Part 2: ‘Meet The Beatles!’

In this new monthly feature on Psychobabble, I’ll be looking at how The Beatles were presented on long-playing vinyl in the United States.

On January 10, 1964, the American public was officially introduced to The Beatles on LP. As far as Capitol Records was concerned, the kids didn’t meet the Fab Four until ten days later. Calling The Beatles’ second American album Meet The Beatles!, thereby claiming propriety over their “real” debut, was an arrogant move considering how Dave Dexter, Jr., had basically treated pop’s latest sensations like old socks up until this point. Capitol’s A&R man had rejected The Beatles time and again believing that American record buyers wouldn’t cotton to the Liverpool lads with the weird haircuts and weird suits. After Dexter passed on the surefire smash “I Want to Hold Your Hand”, Brian Epstein passed on him, making his case directly to label president Alan Livingston, who displayed greater savvy by finally giving The Beatles the green light on Capitol.

And now Dexter was pretending that Introducing… The Beatles didn’t exist, that he had dibs on the guys all along. Granted, the Vee-Jay LP wasn’t the ideal introduction to The Beatles. Key songs had gotten clipped from its UK equivalent Please Please Me. An engineer had botched the count-in of “I Saw Her Standing There”. The cover was ugly. But these alterations were nothing compared to how Dexter fiddled with The Beatles’ first disc on Capitol. Its closest cousin is Parlophone’s With The Beatles. That record contained fourteen tracks, six of which being covers and none of which being singles. On Meet The Beatles! Dexter replaced five of those covers with both sides of the band’s first Capitol single, “I Want to Hold Your Hand” / “I Saw Her Standing There” (it’s count-in fully intact) and the Parlophone B-Side “This Boy”. “I Want to Hold Your Hand” and “This Boy” were subjected to lousy duophonic mixes (highs equalized to the one channel, lows equalized to the other and run slightly out of sync in a poor simulation of stereo) on the stereo album. Dexter also brightened the sound a bit overallperhaps to keep the bass frequencies from making the needle hop off the vinyl, perhaps to give the sound more bite, perhaps bothand layered extra echo onto “I Want to Hold Your Hand”, apparently finally making this already fabulous track acceptable to his own cotton-clogged ears (nevertheless, these changes were light-handed compared to how he’d treat the next Capitol album).

So Dave Dexter, Jr.’s, vision for Meet The Beatles! was quite different from The Beatles and George Martin’s With The Beatles. Which album is better is a valid point of contention. Purists will insist that there is no comparison. With The Beatles is the record The Beatles wanted to release and is therefore intrinsically superior. For many Americans who grew up with Meet The Beatles!, With The Beatles lacks something. Hearing so many Lennon/McCartney originals (plus the very first Harrison one!) gathered in one place is exhilarating, and the three appended to the Capitol record are three of the very best they’d penned to date. The excised covers are all finely performed, well honed after many thunderous stage performances, but such a level of original songs on one album was basically unheard of on a Rock & Roll album in early ’64. Sure it was a cheat, a cagey patchwork on the part of Dexter, but most American kids didn’t know that. Without a monumental track such as “I Want to Hold Your Hand” or an “I Saw Her Standing There” to anchor it, With The Beatles feels a bit slight despite the inclusion of several undeniably strong tracks.

There certainly isn’t any challenge when it comes to the cover: Robert Freeman shot one of the most elegant photos ever to adorn a record sleeve. In the U.S. it was subjected to corpse-like blue tinting and junked up with an exclamation point and the usual ad-copy hysteria.

The best is “All My Loving”, a swinging, up-tempo ballad good enough to warrant single release in several markets and open The Beatles’ career-making performance on “The Ed Sullivan Show” fifty years ago today. “It Won’t Be Long” is another powerful original, beginning With The Beatles with breath-snatching intensity. Moving that track to the mid-point of Side A on Meet The Beatles! diminishes its impact a bit. The decision to retain the corniest cover, the show tune “Till There Was You”, makes for a less thrilling inclusion than “Please Mr. Postman” or “Roll Over Beethoven” would have. “Not a Second Time” doesn’t make for as rousing a conclusion as “Money” had on With The Beatles, but Lennon and McCartney’s beautiful original does make for a wistful, anticipation-stoking finale similar to how Capitol would later use “Do You Want to Know a Secret” at the end of The Early Beatles, as discussed in the first episode of Turn Left at Greenland. In its own way, “Not a Second Time” ends Meet as effectively as “Money” ended With, finishing Side-B on a teasingly dark note just as the replacement of George’s cover of “Roll Over Beethoven” with his brooding original “Don’t Bother Me” begins it on one. “Not a Second Time” and “Don’t Bother Me” function as a relatively daring set of black bookends for a record intended to win a new audience, not ward them off with melancholy sentiments.

Without anything as iconic as “I Want to Hold Your Hand” or “I Saw Her Standing There” (or for that matter, “Love Me Do”, “Please Please Me”, and the essential cover “Twist and Shout” on The Beatles’ UK debut) With The Beatles might not have been the best way for The Beatles’ real US label to bring them out. Jam-loaded with original compositions, a clutch of them being among the band’s best early recordings, Meet The Beatles! is arguably the first sustained blast of The Beatles’ true brilliance. Its success is inarguable. A week after that “Ed Sullivan” debut, Meet The Beatles! was perched at the top of the Billboard charts and would stay there for the next eleven weeks.The Beatles were now transatlantic stars.

But what of all those With The Beatles leftovers? What of “Please Mr. Postman”, “Money”, “Roll Over Beethoven”, and the rest? Hold tight. They’d still be put to use, as we’ll see in next month’s edition of Turn Left at Greenland

Thursday, February 6, 2014

Greg Nicotero's 'The United Monster Talent Agency'

Greg Nicotero had a twenty-five year career as one of Hollywood's leading makeup whiz's in his back pocket by the time he finally directed his own film in 2010. That's when the dude who brought creeps to life in Evil Dead II and Bride of Re-Animator, and worked additional magic on David Lynch's Mulholland Dr. and a plethora of Quentin Tarantino movies, created the utterly delightful "The United Monster Talent Agency". The eight-minute short jets back to a Hollywood when classic monsters were in such high demand that they required their very own talent agency to keep them in rotation.

As detailed in Donna Davies's groovy documentary Nightmare Factory (now streaming on Netflix), Nicotero and his crew did it all the old-fashioned way: lap-dissolving the Wolf Man's (comedian Dana of several familiar faces you'll find in the film) transformation, stop-motion animating King Kong, and building all of the miraculously authentic costumes from scratch. They literally don't make 'em like this anymore, folks. Check out "The United Monster Talent Agency" here and see how many monsters you can spot!

THE UNITED MONSTER TALENT AGENCY - Greg Nicotero by davehouseofhorrors

Monday, February 3, 2014

20 Horror and Cult Classics That Deserve the Criterion Treatment

For thirty years, the Criterion Collection has been restoring “important classic and contemporary films” and releasing them back into the wild on laser disc, DVD, and blu-ray. As their inaugural titles—King Kong and Citizen Kane— indicated, Criterion has long had great enthusiasm for horror and cult films. Yet even with more than 700 titles under its belt, Criterion has not refurbished every horror and cult classic that deserves it. Some of the most deserving have not been well served in the blu-ray age by any of the company’s chief rivals either. So for Criterion or Twilight Time or Shout/Scream Factory or any other distribution company with a serious interest in seriously great movies, here are twenty terrifying and strange titles for your consideration.

1. The Fall of the House of Usher (1928- dir. Jean Epstein)

What is it? A masterpiece of bad dreaminess and surreal imagery. An essential French horror film, of which there are few.

Current Region 1 availability Image Entertainment’s 2001 DVD is out of print. Used copies currently start at $90 on

Why Criterion? The Fall of the House of Usher is certainly important in that it is arguably the first great feature-length Edgar Allan Poe adaptation. Its art house status is right up Criterion’s alley. Director Jean Epstein co-wrote the screenplay with Luis Buñuel at the same time he was making “Un Chien Andalou” with Salvador Dali. That short film would make a fabulous bonus feature!

2. Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde (1931- dir. Rouben Mamoulian)

What is it? The first and best sound adaptation of Robert Louis Stevenson’s transfiguring horror classic. Released the same year as Dracula and Frankenstein, Paramount’s attempt to pounce on the monster bandwagon trounced Universal’s hits and helped complete the trio of classic monster movie tropes: vampire, creation monster, and transformation monster.

Current Region 1 availability New copies of Warner Home Video’s 2004 DVD twofer with the far inferior 1941 adaptation of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde are currently going for $40 on

Why Criterion? Beautifully filmed, beautifully acted, and still really disturbing, Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde is important in that it is the first horror film to score an Oscar (Frederic March shared the best actor award with Wallace Beery). Obviously, it’s a classic for its quality too, though its underdog status next to the ubiquitous Dracula and Frankenstein makes it a perfect candidate for Criterion. MGM certainly doesn’t seem in any rush to restore this one and get it back on the streets.

3. The Old Dark House (1932- dir. James Whale)

What is it? James Whale’s second horror film is an alternately funny and frightening flick with a superb ensemble cast featuring Charles Laughton, Boris Karloff, Lilian Bond, Ernest Thesiger, Gloria Stuart, and Eva Moore.

Current Region 1 availability Kino’s 2003 DVD is readily available but desperately in need of restoration and redistribution on blu-ray.

Why Criterion? Well, Kino can do this one if they like, but if not, Criterion should swoop in and give it the business. Either way I’d be happy.

4. The Black Cat (1934- dir. Edgar G. Ulmer)

What is it? An adaptation of Edgar Allan Poe in name only, Edgar Ulmer’s demented art-deco pairing of Karloff and Lugosi is one of the most deliciously weird entries in the Universal horror canon.

Current Region 1 availability Universal actually rereleased The Black Cat less than two years ago, right before releasing its fab box set of nine select classic monster movies. Alas, the DVD-only Black Cat was not among them. 

Why Criterion? Well, Universal still has enough interest in this essential title— chosen ahead of The Mummy, the 1943 version of The Phantom of the Opera, and The Creature from the Black Lagoon by a panel of critics for inclusion in The 1001 Movies You Must See Before You Die—to rerelease it in 2012, but its failure to refurbish the film for blu-ray is enough indication that an intervention is in order.

5. Mad Love (1935- dir. Karl Freund)

Sunday, February 2, 2014

Review: Philip J. Riley's 'The Return of Frankenstein'

Bride of Frankenstein went through several iterations on its way to becoming the greatest monster movie ever made. Philip MacDonald, who’d later adapt Rebecca for Hitchcock and The Body Snatcher for Robert Wise, imagined Frankenstein’s invention of a death ray as an integral plot element of the sequel to James Whale’s 1931 smash. L.G. Blochman, who enjoyed greater success as a mystery novelist than a screenwriter, had a more fanciful vision in which the mad doctor and his bride Elizabeth leave their troubles behind to work as puppeteers in a traveling carnival. John L. Balderston, who’d adapted the original Frankenstein, got closest to the film we know and adore, though his screenplay was a much darker affair, more faithful to Mary Shelley with a meatier role for the Bride than Elsa Lanchester got to play in the finished film. There’s no Dr. Pretorius in his draft dated June 1934, no Minnie, no humor or homunculi. The Monster, however, does get to talk a lot more and a lot more articulately. He also gets to milk a cow and eat a muskrat. Plus, Fritz is back, because Balderston apparently forgot that the Monster wrung his neck in the first film. So much for continuity.

Philip J. Riley compiled MacDonald and Blochman’s treatments and Balderston’s complete screenplay in his recent book The Return of Frankenstein (this was the preferred title for a while since the producer’s realized the Bride wasn’t actually Frankenstein’s intended…though Balderston does have the Monster refer to himself as Frankenstein a couple of times! So much for knowing whom your main character is…). Like all entries in Riley’s “Alternate History for Classic Film Monsters” series (or the “Filmonster Series-Lost Scripts,” as it’s now called), The Return of Frankenstein is a juicy tidbit of film history cluing us in on what might have been. Sometimes the scrapped scripts are better than what ended up on screen, as was the case with Dracula’s Daughter, the most essential entry in Riley’s series. In the case of Bride of Frankenstein, we ended up with the very best monster picture imaginable, elevated incalculably by James Whale and William Hurlbut’s witty and imaginative revisions. The treatments and screenplay in this book aren’t nearly as much fun to read as Whale’s movie is to watch, but they are still fascinating, essential documents for any classic monster education. If nothing else, they really make you appreciate the depth of James Whale’s genius.

Get The Return of Frankenstein on here:

Saturday, February 1, 2014

Review: 'Famous Robots & Cyborgs: An Encyclopedia of Robots from TV, Film, Literature, Comics, Toys, and More'

Famous Robots & Cyborgs: An Encyclopedia of Robots from TV, Film, Literature, Comics, Toys, and More is a big name for a slim book that doesn’t really qualify as an encyclopedia. There are fewer than sixty entries covering this fairly rich topic, which left me wondering, “Where are the GoBots? Where are those robo-bugs from Runaway starring Gene Simmons and Magnum P.I.? Where are the Star Wars robots that aren’t C-3P0 and R2-D2? No love for IG-88, 2-1B or R5-D4? How about 2-XL?” OK, so the trivia toy 2-XL was more of an eight-track player than a functioning robot (in fact, I used to listen to eight-track tapes on my 2-XL), but if author Dan Roberts thinks that Batman’s nemesis Mr. Freeze and Lisa from Weird Science qualify as robots he has to cut “The Toy with a Personality” some slack.

If you don’t go into this encyclopedia expecting it to be an encyclopedia (the entries aren’t even arranged alphabetically) you will find it to be a breezy and entertaining read. Roberts arranges his entries according to each robot’s appearance, level of artificial intelligence, cuteness, and scariness before delving deeper with origins, memorable moments, assessments, and trivia arranged neatly in bulleted lists. Written in charming British parlance (no surprise that Roberts doesn’t skimp on the “Doctor Who” details), Famous Robots & Cyborgs also breaks up the proper entries with fun extras, such as a timeline of mechanical milestones, different methods for annihilating androids, robo-relationships, and artificially intelligent space ships (though the absence of 2001’s HAL from this section is a major fumble). One should be wary of an encyclopedia that only takes a couple of hours to read, but it can’t be said that those hours haven’t been enjoyably spent.

Get Famous Robots & Cyborgs: An Encyclopedia of Robots from TV, Film, Literature, Comics, Toys, and More at here:
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