{"id":3315,"date":"2012-05-14T06:04:14","date_gmt":"2012-05-14T12:04:14","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/www.thelogbook.com\/earl\/?p=3315"},"modified":"2012-05-14T06:04:14","modified_gmt":"2012-05-14T12:04:14","slug":"uah","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/www.thelogbook.com\/earl\/2012\/05\/14\/uah\/","title":{"rendered":"Uah"},"content":{"rendered":"<p>Nobody got it!  Nobody!  Last week&#8217;s Bad Visual Pun of the Month (well, probably more like Bad Visual Pun Of The Indeterminate Time Period) went completely unsolved.  Here, then, is the answer &#8211; although it required some slightly specialized knowledge about one of my stranger creative projects.<\/p>\n<p><img decoding=\"async\" src=\"https:\/\/www.thelogbook.com\/earl\/hizzouse\/q2-12\/amanaplanacanalburchuss.jpg\" alt=\"UAH!\" \/><\/p>\n<h2>FIDDY CENT<\/h2>\n<p>There&#8217;s a pretty good chance you didn&#8217;t know how to arrive at that answer.  There&#8217;s a pretty good chance you don&#8217;t know what a fiddygibber is.  It&#8217;s time to change that.  It&#8217;s time to tell you all about&#8230; <strong>Jump Cut City<\/strong>. <!--more--><\/p>\n<p>Jump Cut City was a seemingly long-running video project started by Rob Heyman and me in 1988.  The genesis of it was basically this: I got a camcorder.  A great big tanker truck of a thing by today&#8217;s standards &#8211; it shot on full-size VHS tapes.  To put it succinctly, we used the hell out of the thing.  Any directorial or editing or in-camera effects trick that we could think of to try for ourselves, to try to figure out how it was done, we&#8217;d do.  There was seldom, if ever, a script &#8211; not until several years in.  And to be honest, a lot of it was just flat-out stupid &#8211; two kids making movies.  It <em>looked<\/em> like two kids making movies.  Whoever wasn&#8217;t in the shot was holding the camera, and we totally forgot the fourth wall: the camera was the perspective of the other person, and we&#8217;d do crazy stuff like fight scenes where punches were thrown straight into the lens.  Sam Raimi would&#8217;ve chuckled politely and then started looking for the exit &#8211; it was <em>that<\/em> amateurish.<\/p>\n<p><em>It&#8217;s a wonder we didn&#8217;t have the camera torn to bits by &#8217;89.<\/em><\/p>\n<p>I have a great love for the Opening Title Sequence.  It&#8217;s a dying animal in this day and age, but I was raised on the greats from both sides of the Atlantic.  Every episode of what was now called Jump Cut City* (JCC for short) had an epic-length title sequence, often tied to the length of whatever ELO, Steve Winwood or Alan Parsons Project tune I was obsessed with at the time.  There were, admittedly, episodes that were <em>shorter than the titles<\/em>.  But man, I had to have my titles.  I&#8217;d always wanted to make some titles.  I would not be denied.<\/p>\n<blockquote><p>* a jump cut, in video jargon, is a bad edit: something in the foreground or background doesn&#8217;t match up, someone&#8217;s not standing where they need to be, a prop suddenly switches from someone&#8217;s left hand to their right hand between shots, and so on.  Hollywood employs armies of &#8220;continuity&#8221; people &#8211; look for this in movie and TV credits &#8211; to avoid this stuff.  Zucker-Abrams-Zucker productions used to make such things happen on purpose for laughs.  We just kind of owned up to it up front.<\/p><\/blockquote>\n<p>Gradually, characters began to be developed.  A narrative emerged.  This stuff was taking place aboard a spaceship called the Win-A-Prize (represented by shots gleefully filched from the growing number of Star Trek: The Next Generation episodes airing at the time), and it involved two guys who kinda sorta got along together, and yet didn&#8217;t, whenever it was convenient and resulted in some opportunity for action.  <strong>Laugh all you like, it makes as much sense as some of the stuff that actually keeps studios busy in Hollywood.<\/strong><\/p>\n<p><img decoding=\"async\" src=\"https:\/\/www.thelogbook.com\/earl\/jcc\/jcc-lh2.jpg\" alt=\"Uah\" class=alignright \/>In one episode, a stuffed animal &#8211; an orange cat holding a sign reading &#8220;get well soon&#8221; &#8211; appeared, moments before the ship was destroyed.  His bizarre momentary appearance out of the blue amused us so much that he became a regular character, a &#8220;fiddygibber&#8221; named Burchuss.  Rob actually named Burchuss, and meant for him to be Burgess, as a tribute to Burgess Meredith.  But I misheard him, and the distinctive misspelling stuck.  Burchuss had no dialogue in English.  He just said &#8220;Uah!&#8221; (usually by way of me abusing my vocal cords).<\/p>\n<p>A lot of this was &#8220;produced,&#8221; if you even want to call it that, during the <a href=\"https:\/\/www.thelogbook.com\/earl\/2012\/05\/10\/the-fish-tank\/\">long unsupervised stretches of my high school years<\/a> that were spent at my house.  I&#8217;d devised my own editing system (two VCRs hooked up together) as well as a very rudimentary means for recording multitrack music and sound effects to be added later (two cassette decks, a cheap Radio Shack mixer and a Casio keyboard).  There was absolutely <em>no<\/em> precision offered by these very analog innovations\/improvisations; things either lined up right or they were a bust.  Repeated attempts to &#8220;get it right&#8221; this time would just buy you a worn-out tape.  As often as not, the editing was done &#8220;in camera,&#8221; stopping and starting the record button.  Other friends joined in the fun &#8211; William became a regular co-star &#8211; and yet we didn&#8217;t show it around to a lot of folks.<\/p>\n<p>There&#8217;s a bit of a self-consciousness factor, sure, but the tapes themselves betray something different: a complete abandonment of that self-consciousness.  <em>It was awesome.<\/em><\/p>\n<p>Chronicled afterward in a large, ungainly text file, but never consciously developed beforehand, JCC had quite a twisted little mythology all its own.  Heroic Hukka came from the planet Dworb.  Demented Buh&#8217;s weapon of choice was poison leaves.  In the bowels of the &#8220;ship&#8221; &#8211; actually, my house &#8211; instead of antimatter, the whole thing ran on a <strike>empty can of Planters Cheese Balls<\/strike> can of &#8220;Nothingness,&#8221; and if we ran out of nothingness to power the ship, &#8220;dead time&#8221; would surely ensue.  And somewhere out there lurked the Thunderous Breeyat, a sort of Flying Dutchman built by Practitioner Pinzizad of the planet Quibbinfixie.<\/p>\n<p>&#8230;the <em>hell<\/em>?  I can&#8217;t tell if it sounds like we were high (<em>truthfully, we weren&#8217;t<\/em>), or if it sounds like something that everyone would buy wholesale if it had J.K. Rowling&#8217;s byline under it.<\/p>\n<p>In 1989, we shot something meant to be the &#8220;series finale&#8221; which killed all of us off for some very strange reason.  School was taking up more time.  And then came the real show-killer: college.<\/p>\n<p>But in 1990, Rob and I reconvened, freshly re-obsessed by Star Trek&#8217;s impressive season finale (you know the one), and flush with information gleaned from Cinefantastique&#8217;s latest Star Trek recap issue, chronicling the behind-the-scenes goings-on.  We were hooked once again on the idea of <em>making our own stuff<\/em>, but a bit older and wiser and more focused, the thought actually occurred to make it halfway decent.  If possible.<\/p>\n<p>I actually re-lit the living room of my house for the occasion, trying to actually get it to feel somewhat like a set.  A completely bizarre, still-not-scripted comeback episode, &#8220;The Third Nostril,&#8221; sealed the deal; JCC was <em>back<\/em>, baby.  It was back in fits and starts, to be sure; it had to wait for both of us to be in Fort Smith.  There were abortive attempts at &#8220;solo episodes,&#8221; but it was obvious by that time that there was something totally weird, twisted and utterly hilarious in how Rob and I played off of each other.  Even though the tapes were still only circulated among a very small circle of friends (and was becoming required viewing in Fayetteville when Rob returned to the university), we were constantly working on making it better.<\/p>\n<p>Sometime in 1991, I&#8217;m not sure who suggested it, but we did the unthinkable: scripts were suddenly being written.  The first script, a strange two-parter called &#8220;Stellacide,&#8221; finally pointed the whole endeavour, all of this effort, in a specific direction: in the way <img decoding=\"async\" src=\"https:\/\/www.thelogbook.com\/earl\/jcc\/jcc-lh5.jpg\" alt=\"Uah\" class=alignleft \/>that Police Squad and The Naked Gun spoofed cop shows, and in the way that Airplane! spoofed disaster flicks, we were spoofing sci-fi, specifically Star Trek, which had started to idle enough that it was ripe for parody.  Our scripted endeavours were a bit daunting: it would require at least <strong>three to four extra people<\/strong> as guest stars or voices, which meant letting others into the strange JCC &#8220;bubble&#8221; that existed around the whole thing.  The beauty of JCC before had been not having to explain it; now we found ourselves having to explain it.<\/p>\n<p>Rob pitched the show to what was then known as Access 4 Fayetteville, the Fayetteville cable public access channel, and to our surprise, the answer was &#8220;Hey, sure we&#8217;ll show it!&#8221;  Um&#8230; show <em>what?<\/em>  We had exactly two scripted episodes in the can.<\/p>\n<p>Now we were <em>really<\/em> in trouble.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"<p>Nobody got it! Nobody! Last week&#8217;s Bad Visual Pun of the Month (well, probably more like Bad Visual Pun Of The Indeterminate Time Period) went completely unsolved. Here, then, is the answer &#8211; although it required some slightly specialized knowledge about one of my stranger creative projects. FIDDY CENT There&#8217;s a pretty good chance you didn&#8217;t know how to arrive at that answer. There&#8217;s a pretty good chance you don&#8217;t know what a fiddygibber is. It&#8217;s time to change that. It&#8217;s time to tell you all about&#8230; Jump Cut City.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[3,7],"tags":[16],"class_list":["post-3315","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-funny-stuff","category-toiling-in-the-pixel-mines","tag-jccshow"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.thelogbook.com\/earl\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/3315","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.thelogbook.com\/earl\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.thelogbook.com\/earl\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.thelogbook.com\/earl\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.thelogbook.com\/earl\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=3315"}],"version-history":[{"count":0,"href":"https:\/\/www.thelogbook.com\/earl\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/3315\/revisions"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.thelogbook.com\/earl\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=3315"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.thelogbook.com\/earl\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=3315"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.thelogbook.com\/earl\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=3315"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}