Svengoolie Movie: It Came from Outer Space

I watched the Svengoolie movie, “It Came from Outer Space” last night. I’m sure I’ll recover someday. Until then, I’ll have to do my best to write about it. Ray Bradbury actually wrote what’s called the film treatment for the story and Harry Essex wrote the screenplay. I gather there’s a difference between the two, but don’t ask me what it is. So, it’s helpful to know that real movie reviewers also noticed what I noticed, which is that the dialogue has a distinctive literary quality. I’m a Ray Bradbury fan from way back in my youth when they were still using stone tablets to write on. But even I noticed the tone and language were more elevated than what I usually see on the Svengoolie TV show.

Kudos to the movie reviewer who mentioned the literary quality of the dialogue, which in my opinion also are reminiscent of Ray Bradbury:

Scheib, Richard. (2002, July 28). It Came from Outer Space (1953). Accessed April 20, 2025. Moriareviews. https://www.moriareviews.com/sciencefiction/it-came-from-outer-space-1953.htm

Interestingly, this blogger’s review says that Bradbury was unhappy with the result of the production.

The other blogger/reviewer had similar remarks, but it was his About post comments which caught my interest, in which his remarks about Svengoolie’s schlocky films on the show are right on target. On the other hand, he likes this movie. He also mentions that Bradbury got fired after getting paid $2,000 for writing the treatment. I’m not clear on why he was fired:

Steve aka Falcon. (Spielberg can’t get enough … It Came from Outer Space (1953). Accessed April 20, 2025. Falcon at the Movies, https://falconmovies.wordpress.com/2014/05/04/spielberg-cant-get-enough-it-came-from-outer-space-1953/

Anyway, I agree with both reviewers that “It Came from Outer Space” is different from most space invaders films in that the extraterrestrials didn’t actually invade Earth. In fact, they had a malfunction in their spacecraft and accidentally crashed here. They were actually headed for somewhere else, possibly Milliways, the restaurant at the end of the universe (“The Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Universe” by Douglas Adams). They took the form of earthlings so they could get around without being noticed.

That doesn’t actually work because, although they looked like us, they talked in a monotone and had blank, unblinking stares. And they crashed here, indicating the same kind of inability to drive that reminded me of the Roswell incident back in 1947 (only a few years before this movie was released) in which a UFO crashed in New Mexico.

The one thing that struck me was that, in the movie, the extraterrestrials not only couldn’t drive their spacecraft, their main goal after crashing was to fix their busted vehicle. Apparently, in their human disguises they had to go to Lowe’s Hardware to buy replacement electrical parts.

So, these extremely advanced creatures who mastered interstellar travel can get electrical parts in a 1950s era hardware store? “Excuse me, can you get me 4,000 gray toggle switches with matching cover plates—and a voltmeter?”

The spaceship carrying the lost creatures looked like a meteor as it crash-landed and again when it took off after it was fixed. Although you can find a Wikpedia article about this movie that, at the very top, links to another which claims that Bradbury published the film treatment as a book, the rest of the article denies that ever happened. I suppose some people are still looking for it, just like those still looking for the Roswell ET bodies.

The Svengoolie Movie: The Deadly Mantis

I watched the 1957 giant insect movie, “The Deadly Mantis” last night on the Svengoolie TV show, and Sena watched some of it. At times, it was a little hard to tell if this was a romantic comedy or a giant insect horror flick. The reporter Marge Blaine (played by Alix Talton) and Colonel Joe Parkman (played by Craig Stevens) had this fling going on which sometimes took precedence over the huge, deadly papier-mâché praying mantis.

There’s a lot of stock film footage of the military and important military radar dividing lines across the northern hemisphere including the DEW Line (standing for Distant Early Warning Line) which were real. There were a couple of shots of Greenland, which is important to you know which U.S. President—who was probably unaware at the time of the dangerous mantis unthawed from its icebound prison in the North Pole.

If you look carefully in the upper right-hand side of the frame at the 34:48-time mark, in the Internet Archive black and white copy of the film, you’ll see an important goof that Svengoolie pointed out (which I missed at first). It’s the shadow of the large microphone and boom which shows up as Marge and Dr. Nedrick Jackson are leaving the room (Jackson is played by William Hopper, cue Perry Mason music because he played detective Paul Drake on that TV Show). It’s interesting that the Perry Mason show was starting the same year this movie was filmed.

One detail never specified about the monster is its exact species. We can’t tell if it’s the European praying mantis or the invasive Chinese Mantis. That’s not important for the movie, but again, it might be important on the world’s current political stage. Most entomologists advise destroying the eggs of the Chinese Mantis. I don’t know if tariff escalation would work. I think it’s hard to distinguish different mantis species eggs apart and we also don’t know the gender of the giant mantis in the movie.

That’s an important detail, which is only delicately referred to in the film as Dr. Jackson reads aloud from a book about the insect’s mating process, which invariably concludes by the female biting off the head of the male and often eating him (called sexual cannibalism). In the movie, Dr. Jackson reads aloud a gentler description, “The female is larger than the male and invariably destroys her mate when he’s fulfilled his function in life.”

There are interesting parallels to the mantis in the way the male and female lead actors interact with each other in the movie. Colonel Parkman and Dr. Jackson both behave like typical male chauvinists, and Marge never bites their heads off. But the romance doesn’t go that far. Marge dances with the soldiers but there’s no scene with Elvis Presley dancing and singing “Heartbreak Hotel.”

And there’s no time for any of that because the giant mantis is too ravenous after being cooped up for thousands of years in an iceberg. All it wants is breakfast: “Two humans on a raft and wreck’em” or is it “Two humans, dummy side up”? Whatever.

Anyway, the ferocious mantis ends up sort of like the bad-tempered giant cockroach in the 1997 movie “Men in Black.” Agents K and J speed through the New York Brooklyn-Battery Tunnel and have a showdown. The soldiers in The Deadly Mantis have their showdown with the monster in New York also, but it’s in what’s called The Manhattan Tunnel, which I found out doesn’t even exist.

But the parallels don’t stop there. Just before that, the terrifying insect climbs the Washington Monument (to get to the top, of course) and buzzes the White House. During the search for the bad bug, the military brass order that every U.S. citizen in the area report any “Unusual Flying Object,” in other words every UFO.

That means the sequel to both movies would need an extraterrestrial giant, bad-tempered female cockroach and mantis hybrid looking to bite the head off a suitable mate who crash-lands her UFO in the 51st state (formerly Canada) leading to the emergency mobilization of Men in Black who partner with Red Green and the rest of the Possum Lodge members to use duct tape and bug spray to overcome the beast and finally ensure peace by neuralyzing everyone in the world using a souped-up satellite owned by Elon Musk. Svengoolie will tell jokes.

It just goes to show you, we’re humans, but we can change, if we have to…we guess.

Send The Asteroid; We Deserve It

About that news article regarding an asteroid colliding with earth—I couldn’t read it…hits too close to home (rim shot!).

More seriously (but not much!), the background for this is that the asteroid 2024 YR4 has been identified by NASA and is tracking it now. News stories emphasize its large size of maybe up to a few hundred feet and the low chance of it hitting earth at all. NASA’s latest estimate today of the probability of it hitting us at 0.28%. It’s scheduled to buzz by or through us in 2032.

I’m still trying to learn the terminology about rocks in and from space:

Asteroid: a rock that orbits the sun

Comet: an icy ball of dirt that orbits the sun

Meteor: a descriptive term about the amount of a certain edible substance, as in— “What did the black hole say after it swallowed an asteroid? It was good but I wish it had been a little meteor.”

Meteorite: a space rock that enters the earth’s atmosphere, creates a streak of light in the sky and lands on the earth’s surface.

Trilobite: a funny looking creature that died out during the mass extinction caused by a meteorite landing on the earth’s surface.

Any questions? No? Then let’s move on.

This should remind everyone of the well-known X-Files episode, “Tunguska.” Like many of the episode names, it’s pretty inscrutable unless you have a little background. Tunguska is an area in Siberia that in 1908 took a big hit from a cosmic event, basically an explosion of many megatons which flattened a forest of millions of trees. The impact occurred far up in the sky and was probably caused by a meteorite which left no impact crater.

Anyway, Agent Mulder talks about the Tunguska event as part of speculation about where a rock (found early in the episode) came from that has this black oil in it which infects humans (making them homicidal maniacs) and is made by extraterrestrials. Earlier a scientist speculated that the rock might be a meteorite containing fossilized extraterrestrial bacteria—just before the black oil got him.

Neil deGrasse Tyson, the famous astrophysicist remarked in a news report about this rock that now might not be a great time to cut funding to science.  

So that’s why we should be asking ourselves, “Why are they called hemorrhoids? Because Asteroids was already taken.”

Rife vs Ripe: Which is Right?

I noticed a couple of things about one of the President’s many new Executive Orders, which was “ESTABLISHING THE PRESIDENT’S MAKE AMERICA HEALTHY AGAIN COMMISSION,” or MAHA for short. It was posted on February 13, 2025. One thing it reminded me of is the tax filing season, which is upon us (everything reminds me of the tax filing season around this time of year). The other thing was a short article about the IRS, which is cutting staff sharply in response, probably as a response to the federal government workforce layoffs generally. One sentence in the article read:

“The IRS layoffs, first reported by the New York Times, come as part of a broader effort by President Donald Trump and Elon Musk’s overhaul of the federal government, which they argue is too bloated and inefficient, and ripe with waste and fraud.”

I put the word “ripe” in bold-face type because I sensed that the writer probably meant “rife” instead. I looked up the definitions of both just to make sure: Rife means abundant and ripe means mature (possibly overly mature as in smelly and ready for the garbage can).

I wonder if “rife” or “ripe” could apply to MAHA. I’m all for making us healthy. I agree with promoting health. I’m not sure what is meant by “assess the prevalence of and threat posed by the prescription of selective serotonin reuptake inhibitors, antipsychotics, mood stabilizers, stimulants, and weight-loss drugs.” It sounds like a shot across the bow for psychiatrists and primary care physicians.

Some of the content may be either “rife” (or is it “ripe”?) with potentially misleading innuendo, implying that health care professionals are not doing all we can already to promote health. I agree with promoting research into the “root causes” for mental illness. However, some people need psychiatric medications for “just managing disease.” Reducing the suffering of those who are tortured by depression and delusions and hallucinations makes sense because that’s the humane thing to do.

This reminds me of a very interesting article about what some scientists think about how life began on this planet and how it might start elsewhere in the universe. Some think life evolves mainly by chance, by a cosmic accident. Others think it’s inevitable and occurs when planetary conditions are right. So that might mean there’s a good chance there are extraterrestrials are out there. If they are, what would they think of us?

And this reminds me of a quote from the movie, Men in Black. Agent K is showing Edwards a universal translator, one of the many wonders in the extraterrestrial technology room, which gives us a perspective on how humans rank in the universe:

Agent K: We’re not even supposed to have it. I’ll tell you why. Human thought is so primitive it’s looked upon as an infectious disease in some of the better galaxies.

So is the universe “rife” with life—or is it “ripe”?

My Mt. Rushmore Dream

Lately, I’ve been anticipating my eventual immortalization as a sculptured stone bust on Mt. Rushmore. Hopefully, this will be fairly soon because I’m not getting any younger.

Among my many inventions is the internet. Don’t believe Al Gore, although he has persuaded others about his role in the development of what I argue should properly be called the world wide web. I’ve invented a lot of other things which I’ll tell you more about just as soon as I make them up.

Before I forget it, I want to tell you what I just noticed last night while I watching one of my favorite X-Files episodes, “War of the Coprophages.” I guess I never noticed that the cockroach invasion was about Artificial Intelligence (AI). It was the scientist, Dr. Ivanov, who mentioned it first and I just missed it the first few hundred times I saw the show.

Dr. Ivanov clearly thought that anybody who thought extraterrestrials would be green and have big eyes was probably crazy. Traveling across galaxies through wormholes and whatnot would tear humanoid organisms apart. The practical approach would be to send AI robots instead. You could see Mulder cringe at that idea. The little robot that kept edging closer to Mulder made him nervous and when he asked Dr. Ivanov why it did that, his reply was “Because it likes you.”

That doesn’t exactly fit with Ivanov’s other idea about extraterrestrials, which is that they would focus on important tasks like getting enough food, procreating, etc. without getting all emotional about them. Ironic that Dr. Ivanov made an AI robot that gets a crush on a sesame seed munching UFO hunter like Mulder.

However, the AI robots in the show are cockroaches which love to eat dung. In other words, they’re full of crap.

Moving right along, although I didn’t invent it, there’s a card game called schnapsen that Sena and I are trying to relearn. It’s kind of a break from cribbage. It’s a trick taking game with just a 20-card deck. We play the version that doesn’t allow you to look at your cards to see how many points you have so you can tell when you can close the deck or go out, meaning you have the 66 points to win. You have to remember how many points you’ve won in tricks. I think it’s a good way to keep your memory sharp.

Let’s see; I’ve lost every game so far, but that doesn’t mean I won’t end up with my bust on Mt. Rushmore.

Another Congressional Hearing on UAPs and We Still Don’t Know Who Was Driving That Thing

I just sat through the two and a half hour long House Committee Oversight and Accountability hearing dramatically entitled: “Unidentified Anomalous Phenomena: Exposing the Truth.” The impression I got is that somebody still thinks we can’t handle the truth.

This is the second congressional hearing on UAPs I’ve seen. I have to admit, I thought of Agent K’s line to a low ranking MIB agent in the movie Men in Black 3. It’s in the scene in front of what’s obviously a flying saucer as Agent J is administering a neuralyzer blast to the unlucky human witnesses, who will of course forget what they just saw:

“Check the composition of the fuel units and run a scan on the surface deposits. I want to know who was driving that thing.” Me too.

I don’t think this meeting was much different than the one last July. There were 4 witnesses, one of whom was Luis Elizondo (“I believe what I believe in.”). There were quite a few “I don’t know” and “I’d be happy to answer that question in a closed session” type of answers.

Dr. Gold was the scientist who seemed to play a role similar to retired Commander David Fravor played last year, with an engaging, good humored, “stick to the facts” demeanor.

Nobody talked much about the closed session meetings the previous group had after last year’s meeting, except to point out that the “overclassification” of information about UAPs continues and we still don’t know “…who was driving that thing.”

Saying Goodbye to Zem the Mattress

We’re saying goodbye to Zem the mattress. This raises important questions. Who the heck is Zem? Why does a mattress have a name? If you’ve ever read Douglas Adams’ book “The Ultimate Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy: Five Novels and One Story,” you’d probably wonder why anyone should ask.

The name Zem is given to every mattress that exists. According to the Guide, mattresses were once living beings who were slaughtered (not clear who slaughters them) and sold throughout the Universe. They are friendly, talkative, and originate on Sqornshellous Zeta, a swampy planet on which Zem the mattress has a long, idiotic conversation with a depressed robot named Marvin. It’s true, at least in Adams’ book. Find it in Chapter 7 of “Life, The Universe and Everything.”

This raises the issue of how to replace a mattress. It’s a difficult thing and it’s likely there are exceptions to the rule that all mattresses have to go to the junkyard.

I should say that the crude drawing of our Zem is an original work by me, using Microsoft Paint. It’s definitely not made by something called Image Creator. Recently, Windows 11 added Image Creator to Paint, which claims to be able to create drawings just by clicking on the AI icon—which appears almost everywhere nowadays.

It’s getting harder to ignore, but I did. That explains why my drawing of Zem looks like it was made by a 4-year-old child. It’s a form of protest against AI. I’m not sure how long I can hold out. I suspect that AI will eventually learn to disguise itself as something completely innocent without formally introducing itself as AI.

Anyway, like most people, it was challenging to find a new home other than the landfill for Zem. It turns out there is an informal underground railroad leading to new homes for Zem. Zem can be recycled, or at least some parts of it can be repurposed, which don’t include going back into mattress production.

And, there are places like Salvation Army, Goodwill, and homeless shelters which may publicly refuse to take Zem—but then not always stick to the rules on the signs. The websites may say they won’t adopt Zem, even if it doesn’t have a port wine stain on its face. On the other hand, there are circuitous, by word of mouth only code talkers who guide you (sometimes from half-closed doors) to what “could” be a new home for Zem, but you didn’t hear it from them. That rhyme was unintentional, but it worked.

The process is a little like the old TV show “Hogan’s Heroes,” in which Stalag 13 outwardly looked like a prison camp, but contained cleverly disguised nooks, crannies, and tunnels which allowed trips to the Dairy Queen if inmates were so inclined.

It turns out Zem might have a new home—but you didn’t hear it from me.

Thoughts on X-Files Episode “Sunshine Days”

I saw the X-Files episode “Sunshine Days” again last night. It’s the second time I’ve seen it. It’s about a guy who calls himself Oliver who has telekinetic power and who yearns for a father-son relationship with a paranormal researcher (Dr. Reitz) who studied him when he was a kid named Anthony.  

The set of an old 1970s TV show “The Brady Bunch” was used. It was something Oliver created using the power of his mind. As a child, he used to insist that he and Dr. Reitz watch the show regularly. In his mind, it was the perfect family he always wanted but never had.

Anyway, Oliver (Anthony) endangers his life when he uses his telekinetic powers as an adult. He can’t control them and nearly dies from using them. He ends up near death in the hospital after showing the FBI agents including Scully and Doggett (who replaced Mulder) his miraculous ability. The agents and Dr. Reitz are ecstatic because they think it will change the world and humanity.

But after they realize the life-threatening nature of Oliver’s powers, they all agree, including Dr. Reitz, that Oliver should never use them again. Dr. Reitz even tells Oliver (who now wants to be called Anthony) firmly that he can’t use his power, to which Oliver replies that he can’t be alone. Then, Dr. Reitz tells Oliver that he’ll never have to be alone because he’ll always be with him.

A lot of fans hated it because it was the penultimate episode before the final show of the 9th and final season of the X-Files. It was one of the many Monster-of-the-Week (MOTW) shows that had nothing to do with the extraterrestrial mythology.

I liked the MOTW episodes better the ET/conspiracy shows, and Sunshine Days is one of my favorites. However, I never watched The Brady Bunch and the whole perfectly happy and well-adjusted family idea was ridiculously implausible in my opinion.

I doubt there is such a thing as a perfect family. Mine certainly was not and look how well I turned out. Even in nature, there are examples of savagery that can make you doubt the ultimate wisdom of whoever or whatever is in charge of evolution.

For example, birds can be exquisitely cruel. Cowbirds lay their eggs in the nests of completely different species of birds, where the cowbird chicks bully their weaker nestlings. And surely just about everyone has seen the pitiless pecking of the larger of the two shoebill chicks in which the parents calmly watch as the smaller chick gets stepped on, pushed out of the next and essentially murdered by the bigger chick. This is because the parents know there is not enough water for both.

Even the song “A Boy Named Sue” is based on the natural law of survival of the fittest, which has nothing to do with kindness. Incidentally, that song came out in 1969, the same year that The Brady Bunch show began.

On the other hand, the reconciliation of Anthony with Dr. Rietz always fills me with joy.

The Cat is a Witness?

I have watched the Men in Black movies dozens of times, and I still get a little puzzled at the scene in which Agent J ask the deputy medical examiner (Laurel) where the cat Orion is.  Orion is carrying a tiny galaxy on its collar. You’ll have to see the movie to get the context about it.

Agent J asks where Orion is but the way he asks about it is odd. He says he’s looking for the cat because it’s a witness in a murder case and he needs to ask it some questions. Laurel doesn’t bat an eyelash and just says the cat’s not around but wants Agent J to take her with him instead.

Ok, I realize there are a lot of weird things in the MIB movies including a giant, ill-tempered talking cockroach. Nonetheless, it still seems out of place (at least to me) that he tells Laurel he wants to talk to a cat. Laurel has seen the little galaxy hanging from the cat’s collar. That doesn’t mean the cat talks. In fact, all Orion ever says is “meow.”

Why doesn’t Laurel ask why Agent J wants to try to ask a cat questions? After all, Agent K has neuralyzed her a couple of times, so she doesn’t remember seeing or hearing anything weird. I’ve scanned the internet to see if anybody else wonders about it. It looks like I’m the odd man out. You really need to see the scene and the movie for context. I didn’t see any comments about questioning the cat in a YouTube clip below, but I might have missed it.

The United States Postal Service is in Code 101 Lockdown!

No matter what I do, the USPS Change of Address (COA) snafu team makes the situation worse. It reminds me of this scene in Men in Black 2 in which the MIB headquarters goes into something called Code 101 Lockdown. Agents J & K return to headquarters and Agent J fires a sort of space cannon into the front door.

This leads to just about everything outside (including a hot dog stand) getting sucked into the building. The verbal exchange between agents goes something like this:

Agent K: “Code 101 Lockdown!”

Agent J: “I know, I know! The building gets pressurized. Nothin’ in, nothin’ out. I knew that.”

OK, so the movie gets it wrong. The scientists would say that if a closed system is “pressurized” that means from the inside. Technically what actually happens is a negative pressurization or partial vacuum, because everything gets sucked inside the building.

The situation at the USPS is in Code 101 lockdown because it has sucked in both my online and paper requests for Change of Address (COA) and also has not refunded me the $1.10 they charged my credit card before the system failed to give me a confirmation code for the COA. By the way, that’s backward. The right way for the USPS to do that would be confirm that my input is correct—and only then charge me.

No matter what I try to enter into the dysfunctional USPS system in order to right the wrong, it just gets vacuumed into the system and no definitive solution gets out.

I don’t remember how the lockdown in MIB 2 got solved. And I don’t know how to resolve the USPS lockdown. Maybe get the worm guys to shut down their power?

UPDATE: As of July 2, 3024, the USPS snag may be on its way to being resolved.