Apparently Saturday morning cartoons still exist. And here I'd thought the advent of satellite TV and a 24-hour cartoon channel killed them off entirely, but no, I see the networks wheezing along with a handful of Spider-Man and Ninja Turtle toons scattered amongst the Hannah Montanas and Ravens. I don't really have any editorial comment to make, beyond the usual lamentations about not being able to sleep in until 11 like my parents because the offspring are zombifying in front of the TV.
And certainly, there was a lot of garbage on the tube back in the 70s and 80s, when I first learned you could watch TV for five hours straight and not go into convulsions. We can try to blame the hazy prism of nostalgia, but really there was no excuse for sitting through shit like Jabberjaw and Captain Caveman.
And yet I never actually watched The Real Ghosbusters when it originally aired. The 1984 movie is still one of my favorite comedies (and has the distinction of being the first VHS tape the Vonder Haar family ever purchased), but by 1986 Saturday mornings were all about either mowing the lawn or sleeping off the previous night's beer shotgunning contests. I got caught up with the show in college (my friend Shane had a thoroughly frightening assortment of recorded 80s programming), and this episode in particular stuck out. I couldn't believe I was watching a kid's cartoon about the Great Old Ones, but there you go (via MetaFilter).
"The Collect Call of Cathulhu[sic]"[1] was written by Michael Reaves and edited by J. Michael Straczynksi (one assumes the Ghostbusters' previous dealings with the supernatural boosted their SAN enough to properly deal with horrors from beyond space and time). I love it all: the Raiders style ending, "Alice" Derleth, no Slimer. The first season really was the best, though the whole run...reportedly...is coming to DVD this fall. And the new video game should be out for the Wii early next year.
I have a sudden urge to go shotgun a beer.
[1] Good old Chaosium, always ready with a lawsuit
You can check with RayBob, but I believe I’m correct in saying that all sleeping-in at the Vonder Haar household came to a screeching halt as of December 3, 1968.