Sunday, October 19, 2008
Pop Cannibalism 4
Even if Mortified hadn't sent us the following comment on our myspace page, I still would have gotten their book:
Dear uber talented siblings,You guys do really cool work. Congrats on being all cool and stuff. From the people who specialize in celebrating those who were not.We like you so much we'd let you go to 2nd. MORTIFIED
PS: We hope you enjoy our book... in stores everywhere. Our 2nd book hits stores this January.
If you haven't heard about it already, Mortified is a "Comic excavation of adolescent writing, art, and media." There's a live version of Mortified, parts of which can be viewed here. There are some wonderful elements of kitsch and nostalgia in the submissions and live readings, especially if you grew up in the 70's 80's or early 90's. The first book is a collection of diary entries from participants when they were 10-17 years old about relationships, "totally frenching," school, music, and even first boy-girl parties. Some of it is fan fiction about making out with members of Duran Duran. My favorite submission is from Adam Gropman's letters to his parents from a 2-month long summer camp when he was 10. I think they published the letter dates in the wrong order, but either way, here's an excerpt:
July 1, 1976
I am fine. Today I tried the swimming test. I only made it across the dock two time. Dinner is great here!
p.s. I made a lot of friends and one especially named Peter.
July 5, 1976
camp is good! And the food is great! Also, when I said I only did two laps between the docks, I did four...and I practicid t do six!
P.S. I'm kind of homesick, so please visit as soon as you can.
July 11, 1976
Mom + Dad,
I have a very bad cold and I feel very sick. This is what's wrong. I have a bad sore throat. My nose and sinus are very stuffy. I have awful headaches. I feel very week. Everybody, except for two people in this cabin, are a#$holes. Right at this moment, while I'm writing this letter, someone's teasing me and saying I'm faking being sick...
Later that night:
Dear Mom + Dad
I can't hack camp any longer. I'm going to have a mental fit. by the way, what I meant by "take me out of tthis camp" is come up here in the car and take me HOME! I hate this ^%$damn cabin. I want to see our house and sleep in my nice, comfortable bed and sleep till 10:30 instead of waking up at 7:00!
July 13, 1976
I guess you have gone through some sad and difficult days. I think it would be best for you NOT to worry about your clothes and flashlight and things. As Alfred E. Neuman says, "Why worry?"
Maybe when you feel angry at the world, you could go to some private place in the woods...acd cry about it (that's good) or yell at the trees (they won't mind). And when you come back from hollering and hitting the groud with a stick, you won't feel angry.
July 16, 197
Dear Mom + Dad
Camp is s^&** and boring. Everyting's been going wrong at camp such as:
Jason borrowed my red short-sleeved shirt and lost it.
My flashlight (still) isn't working
I got a cut on my penis when I flunked my canoe test.
I'm very homesick. I wish you could arrange so I can only stay 1 month instead of 2
July 14, 1976
Dear Adam, I'm sorry you hurt your penis. Does it still bother you?
July 19, 1976
I f&*(*&^ hate this bastard camp! You better *&^damn listen to this letter or I'm going to scream! As a matter of fact, I already screamed my ass off at everybody in this cabin today. I don't understand why you don't believe that I'm having a conniption! Now I know you hate my guts, because if you liked me, you wouldn't torture me. Come up here on Saturday the 24th. If you send me one more of those crap letters, I'll rip it up and burn it.
It gets better, but I don't want to spoil it. The book was like sneaking a peak at someone's diary, which is exactly what it is. I couldn't put it down. There's page after page of embarrassing pathetic stories about unrequited love, goofy humor, delusions of grandeur, and teen angst. One part of me was horrified by what some people would do and amused that they would reveal it for the public to read, and the other part of me related to the embarassing, mellodramatic, and dorky moments of teenage life. A few of these entries could have been pulled from my own diary.
Similar to one of the authors fake memo's as CEO of Chanel, Inc (at the age of 9), I recently found an unsent letter to the cast members of Saturday Night Live, circa 1992. There was a tone of familiarity about the letter, as if Mike Meyers, Dana Carvey, and Chris Farley and I were all good friends. I think I asked if Mike and Dana's necks got sore from head banging during Wayne's World because mine did.
There was another letter I found in which I was trying to pitch myself to Nickelodeon as a child representative on what we as kids want. I'll have to see if I can find them again and send them in to Mortified.
here's my mortified picture, rocking a spike mullet. luckily I didn't have the clip on tie this year(notice that we never bought our school pictures, instead we kept the original and never returned it to the photoghy company)
I'll leave you with a video from one of my favorite journal entries, "I Hate Drake."
Mortified: I Hate Drake