Watch Classic Seinfeld Scenes Dubbed in .… Yiddish

You may nev­er have heard much Yid­dish, but we can’t call it a dead lan­guage. The tongue of the Ashke­nazi Jews, one referred to in the 19th and part of the 20th cen­tu­ry as sim­ply “Jew­ish,” cer­tain­ly did, how­ev­er, have a near-death expe­ri­ence. Just before World War II, the num­ber of Yid­dish speak­ers alive num­bered some­where between 11 and 13 mil­lion; today we don’t even know the fig­ure, though one esti­mate from the 1990s-era puts it under two mil­lion. The lan­guage, which first emerged in ninth-cen­tu­ry Europe, has in recent decades come back from the brink of extinc­tion, and resur­gences of Yid­dish edu­ca­tion have hap­pened in many his­tor­i­cal­ly Jew­ish parts of the world. But as in any less-com­mon lan­guage, stu­dents may find them­selves short of those most effec­tive learn­ing tools: fun things to watch. Now, to help with their acqui­si­tion of the still not espe­cial­ly pop­u­lar Yid­dish, they have a bit of the mas­sive­ly pop­u­lar Sein­feld.

Thanks to that mas­sive pop­u­lar­i­ty, the quin­tes­sen­tial 1990s sit­com has aired inter­na­tion­al­ly, dubbed into a great many local lan­guages. But when it comes to Yid­dish, those inter­est­ed in learn­ing, speak­ing, and hear­ing it have had to take mat­ters into their own hands — an abil­i­ty cel­e­brat­ed through­out the annals of Jew­ish his­to­ry, and just the sort of thing that revived the “Jew­ish” lan­guage in the first place. Vimeo user A Mishel has post­ed a series of Sein­feld clips edu­ca­tion­al­ly repur­posed with Yid­dish dia­logue, often using old-favorite episodes cov­er­ing cul­tur­al­ly rel­e­vant ter­ri­to­ry: a bar mitz­vah, for instance, or a briss. And as the one true “show about noth­ing,” Sein­feld spe­cial­izes in the uni­ver­sal­ly rel­e­vant stuff of every­day life: a den­tist vis­it, or a dire sin­gles mix­er. Pre­sum­ably, a com­ing advanced-stud­ies seg­ment will bring to Yid­dish Sein­feld’s more recent adven­tures with קאָמעדיאַנס in קאַרס get­ting קאַווע.

via Metafil­ter

Relat­ed Con­tent:

What’s the Deal with Pop Tarts? Jer­ry Sein­feld Explains How to Write a Joke

Sein­feld & Noth­ing­ness: A Super­cut of the Show’s Emp­ti­est Moments

Learn 48 Lan­guages Online for Free: Span­ish, Chi­nese, Eng­lish & More

Col­in Mar­shall hosts and pro­duces Note­book on Cities and Cul­ture and writes essays on cities, lan­guage, Asia, and men’s style. He’s at work on a book about Los Ange­les, A Los Ange­les Primer. Fol­low him on Twit­ter at @colinmarshall or on Face­book.

9 New Episodes of David Lynch’s Twin Peaks to Air in 2016

David Lynch just announced on Twit­ter this morn­ing, “Dear Twit­ter Friends… it is hap­pen­ing again.

He’s refer­ring to the revival of his ear­ly 1990s cult clas­sic show, Twin Peaks, on Show­time in 2016.

Show­time’s Youtube Chan­nel adds this detail:

The ground­break­ing tele­vi­sion phe­nom­e­non, Gold­en Globe® and Peabody Award-win­ner TWIN PEAKS will return as a new lim­it­ed series on SHOWTIME in 2016. Series cre­ators and exec­u­tive pro­duc­ers David Lynch and Mark Frost will write and pro­duce all nine episodes of the lim­it­ed series, and Lynch will direct every episode. Set in the present day, TWIN PEAKS will con­tin­ue the lore of the orig­i­nal series, pro­vid­ing long-await­ed answers and a sat­is­fy­ing con­clu­sion for the series’ pas­sion­ate fan base.

Accord­ing to the fan site Wel­come­toTwin­Peaks, David Lynch and Mark Frost are “try­ing to bring back as much of the orig­i­nal cast as pos­si­ble, with Kyle MacLach­lan def­i­nite­ly on board repris­ing his role as Spe­cial Agent Dale Coop­er. Com­pos­er Ange­lo Badala­men­ti and Emmy Award-win­ning edi­tor Duwayne Dun­ham will like­ly be involved as well.” You can rest assured that Wel­come­toTwin­Peaks will keep you post­ed on new details as they come to light.

In the mean­time, the orig­i­nal Twin Peaks series was re-issued on blu-ray this sum­mer. And US-based view­ers can watch the orig­i­nal series for free on Hulu.

via Bib­liok­lept

Fol­low us on Face­bookTwit­ter and Google Plus and share intel­li­gent media with your friends. Or bet­ter yet, sign up for our dai­ly email and get a dai­ly dose of Open Cul­ture in your inbox.

Relat­ed Con­tent:

David Lynch Presents the His­to­ry of Sur­re­al­ist Film (1987)

David Lynch Explains How Med­i­ta­tion Enhances Our Cre­ativ­i­ty

David Lynch Teach­es You to Cook His Quinoa Recipe in a Weird, Sur­re­al­ist Video

Dum­b­land, David Lynch’s Twist­ed Ani­mat­ed Series (NSFW)

How to Sing Julia Child’s Mastering the Art of French Cooking

Though she had no ten­der feel­ings for Julie Powell’s Julia/Julie blog, I like to think Julia Child wouldn’t have been entire­ly dis­pleased by the Bush­wick Book Club’s efforts to musi­cal­ize Mas­ter­ing the Art of French Cook­ing, Child’s two vol­ume labor of love (and the inspi­ra­tion for Powell’s cel­e­brat­ed blog).

The “club,” a free float­ing, dis­cus­sion-free group of New York City-based singer-song­writ­ers, start­ed in 2009, when Kurt Vonnegut’s Break­fast of Cham­pi­ons was cel­e­brat­ed with music and the­mat­ic drink spe­cials. In the ensu­ing half-decade, they’ve met month­ly to wres­tle with such titles as The Great Gats­by, Madame Bovary and Dol­ly Parton’s auto­bi­og­ra­phy.

Some con­tri­bu­tions to these events do feel half-baked, as if the per­former delayed start­ing work in case he or she might be able to fin­ish the book on the bus ride to the show. Oth­ers are well craft­ed, as well as insight­ful.

Leslie Graves’ musi­cal recita­tion of Child’s “Flam­ing Tart” is the sort of naughty fun Bessie Smith want­ed in her bowl:

And just before enter­ing 

Put a warm liqueur 

Over the hot caramelized sur­face…

Not, pre­sum­ably, what Child had in mind when she wrote those words, although the hap­pi­ness of her mar­riage is well doc­u­ment­ed. (If we could just have the kitchen and the bed­room, that would be all we need.”)

The link between stom­ach and heart under­scores Hilary Downes’ bossa nova-inflect­ed “Mas­ters of the Table” and Shan­non Pelcher’s gen­tle “Eat­ing” which looks past Child’s tow­er­ing culi­nary achieve­ment to her yearn­ing TV audi­ence.

I did hear a sound mid­way between an egg beat­er and some­one spin­ning beneath her Bon Appetit-engraved tomb­stone when club founder Susan Hwang slipped the phrase “walk­ing corpses” into Child’s “List of Equip­ment.” But she bal­anced the scales with a sin­cere com­pli­ment to the all-too-rare sound of Child’s unmis­tak­able voice.

(This made me so nos­tal­gic, I had to rus­tle up Dan Aykroyd’s taste­less but clas­sic imper­son­ation from 1978…)

Stuff your­self on the entire evening’s songs using the link at the top of this page.

Or, should you crave a dif­fer­ent sort of fare, join the Bush­wick Book Club on the Fry­ing Pan Octo­ber 29, when they con­sid­er The Shin­ing by Stephen King.

Relat­ed Con­tent:

Julia Child Shows How to Edit Video­tape with a Meat Cleaver, and Cook Meat with a Blow Torch

Remem­ber­ing Julia Child on Her 100th Birth­day with Her Clas­sic Appear­ance on the Let­ter­man Show

How Cook­ing Can Change Your Life: A Short Ani­mat­ed Film Fea­tur­ing the Wis­dom of Michael Pol­lan

Ayun Hal­l­i­day is an author whose Zinester’s Guide to NYC inspired a pret­ty great song of its own. Fol­low her @AyunHalliday

Watch Miles Davis, Grace Jones, Adam Ant & Devo in 1980s Ads for Honda Scooters

Begin­ning scoot­er rid­ers can find a ver­i­ta­ble biker’s break­fast of point­ers on the Inter­net. One could cob­ble them togeth­er to make a con­tem­po­rary own­ers man­u­al, cov­er­ing such cru­cial top­ics as brak­ing, throt­tling, steer­ing, and stay­ing upright. But some­times one craves some­thing a bit more elu­sive, a bit more spir­i­tu­al. Is there a youtube equiv­a­lent of Zen and the Art of Motor­cy­cle Main­te­nance?

Not real­ly, but there are these ear­ly 80s ads for Hon­da scoot­ers, fea­tur­ing some of the era’s most icon­o­clas­tic acts.

They put Adam Ant’s dash­ing post-punk appeal to the test by con­fin­ing him in close quar­ters with Grace Jones. Grace, above, dom­i­nat­ed, with all the con­fi­dence and ease of a tiger caged up with a pea­cock.

The prize? Can’t speak for Adam, but Grace got to film anoth­er spot. Her co-stars this time were a grid of infants, whose moth­ers must’ve been relieved that the alien diva queen nev­er actu­al­ly inter­act­ed with them. Can you imag­ine if Hug­gies had shared Hon­da’s adven­tur­ous adver­tis­ing sen­si­bil­i­ties?

Jazz great musi­cian Miles Davis did­n’t have to do much to lend an air of cool to that scoot­er. Even the card­board box­es scat­tered in the back­ground of his garage ben­e­fit from his pres­ence. The Prince of Dark­ness’ rep­u­ta­tion was nev­er an 80’s-spe­cif­ic phe­nom­e­non, but he looks the part, kit­ted out like the Road War­rior

Synth-pop super­stars Devo urged begin­ning rid­ers to adopt their extreme­ly uncon­ven­tion­al brand of con­for­mi­ty, sug­gest­ing that the band’s uni­form of cov­er­alls and, uh, shoes was the per­fect thing to wear while rid­ing that Hon­da. Those who want­ed to hang on to some sem­blance of indi­vid­u­al­i­ty could do so via scoot­er col­or.

Iron­ic though it may have been, their will­ing­ness to be seen sport­ing, nay, pro­mot­ing hel­mets makes Devo’s ad my per­son­al favorite.

To see Lou Reed’s con­tri­bu­tion to Hon­da’s series of ads, see our pre­vi­ous post: Sell­ing Cool: Lou Reed’s Clas­sic Hon­da Scoot­er Com­mer­cial, 1984

Relat­ed Con­tent:

David Lynch’s Per­fume Ads Based on the Works of Hem­ing­way, F. Scott Fitzger­ald & D.H. Lawrence

Watch Lau­rence Olivi­er, Liv Ull­mann and Christo­pher Plummer’s Clas­sic Polaroid Ads

Klaus Nomi’s Ad for Jäger­meis­ter (Cir­ca 1980)

Ayun Hal­l­i­day is an author, home­school­er, and Chief Pri­ma­tol­o­gist of the East Vil­lage Inky zine. Fol­low her @AyunHalliday

Watch Frank Zappa Play Michael Nesmith on The Monkees (1967)


In Decem­ber 1967, The Mon­kees blew their audi­ence’s minds by host­ing Frank Zap­pa, “par­tic­i­pant in and per­haps even leader of” the Moth­ers Of Inven­tion.

Or did they?

The tidal wave of affec­tion that com­pris­es twen­ty-first cen­tu­ry Mon­kees mania makes us for­get that chil­dren were the pri­ma­ry audi­ence for The Mon­kees’ tit­u­lar sit­com. (One might also say that The Mon­kees were the sitcom’s tit­u­lar band.)

But even if the kids at home weren’t suf­fi­cient­ly con­ver­sant in the musi­cal under­ground to iden­ti­fy the spe­cial guest star of the episode, “The Mon­kees Blow Their Minds,” we are.

It’s a joy to see Zap­pa and The Mon­kees’ supreme­ly laid back Michael Nesmith (he audi­tioned for the show with his laun­dry bag in tow) imper­son­at­ing each oth­er.

Zappa’s idea, appar­ent­ly. He’s in com­plete con­trol of the gim­mick from the get go, where­as Nesmith strug­gles to keep their names straight and his pros­thet­ic nose in place before get­ting up to speed.

It’s impor­tant to remem­ber that it’s not Frank, but Nesmith play­ing Frank who accus­es The Mon­kees’ music of being banal and insipid.

Zap­pa him­self was a great sup­port­er of The Mon­kees. “When peo­ple hat­ed us more than any­thing, he said kind things about us,” Nesmith recalled in Bar­ry Miles’ Zap­pa biog­ra­phy. Zap­pa attempt­ed to teach Nesmith how to play lead gui­tar, and offered drum­mer Micky Dolenz a post-Mon­kees gig with The Moth­ers of Inven­tion.

Their mutu­al warmth makes lines like “You’re the pop­u­lar musi­cian! I’m dirty gross and ugly” palat­able. It put me in mind of come­di­an Zach Gal­i­fi­anakis’ Between Two Ferns, and count­less oth­er loose­ly rehearsed web series.

After a cou­ple of min­utes, Nesmith gets his hat back to con­duct as Zap­pa smash­es up a car to the tune of the Moth­er’s Of Inven­tion’s “Moth­er Peo­ple.”

Watch the full episode here, or if pressed for time, per­haps just Zappa’s cameo in the Mon­kees’ movie Head, as a stu­dio lot bull wran­gler who coun­sels lead singer Davy Jones on his career.

Relat­ed Con­tent:

A Young Frank Zap­pa Turns the Bicy­cle into a Musi­cal Instru­ment on The Steve Allen Show (1963)

In One of his Final Inter­views, Frank Zap­pa Pro­nounces Him­self “Total­ly Unre­pen­tant”

Ayun Hal­l­i­day is an author, home­school­er, and Chief Pri­ma­tol­o­gist of the East Vil­lage Inky zine. Fol­low her @AyunHalliday

 

The Beatles Saturday Morning Cartoon Show (1965–1969)

We’ve become so accus­tomed to think­ing of the Bea­t­les as Seri­ous Artists™ that it’s easy to forget—at least for those of us who weren’t there—how high­ly com­mer­cial a fran­chise they were in the mid-six­ties. It’s no won­der Joe Strummer’s line about “pho­ny Beat­le­ma­nia” in the Clash’s “Lon­don Call­ing” res­onat­ed so strong­ly for those dis­af­fect­ed with the reign of the Fab Four. The real thing was over­whelm­ing enough, but the slew of offi­cial, unof­fi­cial, and boot­leg mer­chan­dis­ing that fol­lowed it, much of it aimed at chil­dren, makes the band’s dom­i­nance seem, well, kin­da juve­nile. Before they escaped pop star­dom and retreat­ed to the stu­dio to record their psy­che­del­ic mas­ter­pieces, the Bea­t­les received every pos­si­ble com­mer­cial treat­ment, from lunch­box­es and cere­al bowls to jig­saw puz­zles, lamp­shades, and a Ringo Starr bub­ble bath. Perus­ing an online auc­tion of Bea­t­les merch is a bit like tour­ing Grace­land.

There’s one arti­fact from the height of Beat­le­ma­nia that you won’t find, how­ev­er. Instead, you can watch it for free on Youtube. I refer to The Bea­t­les, a half-hour Sat­ur­day morn­ing car­toon show that ran on ABC from Sep­tem­ber, 1965 to Sep­tem­ber 1969 and pro­duced a total of 39 episodes. The band them­selves had almost noth­ing to do with the show, oth­er than appear­ing in an odd pro­mo­tion. Trad­ing entire­ly in broad slap­stick com­e­dy of the Scoo­by-Doo vari­ety, the show saw the four mates tum­ble into one goofy sit­u­a­tion after anoth­er, some super­nat­ur­al, some musi­cal, some the­atri­cal. Although all nat­ur­al per­form­ers them­selves, no Bea­t­le ever voiced his char­ac­ter on the show. Instead, Amer­i­can actor Paul Frees, as John and George, and British actor Lance Per­ci­val, as Paul and Ringo, imi­tat­ed them, very bad­ly. The Bea­t­les car­toon show aired at a time when the kids TV land­scape was just begin­ning to resem­ble the one we have today, with ABC com­peti­tor CBS run­ning super­hero shows like Space Ghost, Super­man, and Mighty Mouse, but the sur­re­al plots and musi­cal num­bers on The Bea­t­les were an attempt to reach adults as well. Watch clips from Sea­son 1 above.

Relat­ed Con­tent:

Lis­ten to the Bea­t­les’ Christ­mas Records: Sev­en Vin­tage Record­ings for Their Fans (1963 – 1969)

The Bea­t­les Per­form a Fun Spoof of Shakespeare’s A Mid­sum­mer Night’s Dream (1964)

Peter Sell­ers Per­forms The Bea­t­les “A Hard Day’s Night” in Shake­speare­an Voice

Josh Jones is a writer and musi­cian based in Durham, NC. Fol­low him at @jdmagness

Thomas Pynchon Edits His Lines on The Simpsons: “Homer is my role model and I can’t speak ill of him.”

pynchon simpsons edit

In 2002, the elu­sive nov­el­ist Thomas Pyn­chon made two cameo appear­ances on The Simp­sons. Of course, we did­n’t actu­al­ly get to see Pyn­chon. His car­toon depic­tion wore, rather humor­ous­ly, a bag over his head. But, we did get to hear Pyn­chon’s voice. And appar­ent­ly that, alone, was a first.

This past week, Matt Sel­man, an exec­u­tive pro­duc­er for The Simp­sons, shed some more light on those play­ful cameos. On Twit­ter, he post­ed a copy of the script Pyn­chon edit­ed and faxed back to the show’s writ­ers. (Click on the image above to see it in a larg­er for­mat.) In some cas­es, Pyn­chon, always the writer, tweaked the lan­guage to make it flow as he liked. In oth­er cas­es, he added his own mate­r­i­al to the script — new sound effects, jokes, and puns. (The word “Scrump­tious” gets turned into Vi-licious.) And, in one case, he removed a joke. Delet­ing the words “No won­der Homer is such a fat ass,” Pyn­chon scrawled the com­ment: “Sor­ry, guys. Homer is my role mod­el and I can’t speak ill of him.” Final­ly, Homer gets some respect.

Pynchon-simpsons

via The Wall Street Jour­nal

Relat­ed Con­tent:

Before The Simp­sons, Matt Groen­ing Illus­trat­ed a “Student’s Guide” for Apple Com­put­ers (1989)

Before The Simp­sons: Homer Groen­ing Directs a 1969 Short Film, The Sto­ry, Star­ring His Kids Mag­gie, Lisa & Matt 

Take a Cin­e­mat­ic Jour­ney into the Mind of Thomas Pyn­chon and His New Book, Bleed­ing Edge

 

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David Bowie and Klaus Nomi’s Hypnotic Performance on SNL (1979)

1979 was a strange year in music. A year of end­ings, in a way. Sid Vicious died, Ozzy Osbourne left Black Sab­bath… an old guard fad­ed away. On the oth­er hand, U2 went into the stu­dio for their debut, Kate Bush went on her first tour, and new wave emerged from punk’s end. It was also the year, notably or not, that Berlin/New York cabaret per­former Klaus Nomi broke, sort of. Nomi had been per­form­ing Wag­n­er and Vaude­ville in New York, and David Bowie, always on the make for unusu­al trav­el­ing com­pan­ions, invit­ed him to appear as a back­up singer on Sat­ur­day Night Live. Bowie him­self was in tran­si­tion, leav­ing behind his high con­cept work with Bri­an Eno on his Berlin Tril­o­gy (Low, ”Heroes,” and Lodger) and enter­ing anoth­er high pop phase. It was an abrupt, but nat­ur­al, shift for Bowie; tap­ping into Nomi’s art-pop affec­ta­tions may have seemed a per­fect way to bridge the two.

Bowie, Nomi, and flam­boy­ant New York per­for­mance artist Joey Arias do three songs, reach­ing back to Bowie’s folki­er times for “The Man Who Sold the World.” Bowie launch­es next into Sta­tion to Sta­tion’s “TVC 15” in a skirt and heels, while Nomi and Arias drag around a pink plas­tic poo­dle. For the last num­ber, Lodger’s “When You’re a Boy,” Bowie per­haps invents the look of 80s new wave videos to come—from Peter Gabriel to the Pet Shop Boys—while wear­ing a life-size mar­i­onette cos­tume. Some amaz­ing mech­a­nism, pup­peteers off­stage or Bowie him­self, oper­ates the over­sized arms, and the whole thing takes SNL musi­cal per­for­mances to a place they’d nev­er been. Nomi was so impressed with the cos­tum­ing that he adopt­ed the huge plas­tic tuxe­do Bowie wears dur­ing the first song as his own, wear­ing one on the cov­er of his first album and per­form­ing in it until his death from AIDS in 1983. The broad­cast above took place on Decem­ber 15, 1979.

Relat­ed Con­tent:

Klaus Nomi: The Bril­liant Per­for­mance of a Dying Man

Klaus Nomi’s Ad for Jäger­meis­ter (Cir­ca 1980)

David Bowie and Cher Sing Duet of “Young Amer­i­cans” and Oth­er Songs on 1975 Vari­ety Show

David Gilmour & David Bowie Sing “Com­fort­ably Numb” Live (2006)

Josh Jones is a writer and musi­cian based in Durham, NC. Fol­low him at @jdmagness

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