I had a dream last night that involved calico elephants.
There were a number of other weird events, but relating them would be tedious–the calico elephants were the most visually interesting part.
Nothing, however, can top “Mothra 3” which is currently on the Sci-Fi channel. If you have never seen the Mothra movies, you are missing a crapstravaganza. From the original Big Moth Vs. Godzilla theme, Mothra has metamorphisized into Mothra, defender of the earth, summoned in times of crisis by a five-minute intrepretive dance sequence performed by fairies riding on a Beanie baby.
As Dave Barry would say, I am not making this up.
Through further interpretive dance, the fairies can send Mothra back in time, morph him into a four-winged fighter jet thing, or raise Atlantis for no apparent reason.
In “Mothra 3” Mothra is fighting King Ghidora, who is kidnapped children using giant penis-tentacle thingies and storing them in a giant pink sac, presumably to eat later. I am still not making this up. At once point, they all go back to the age of the dinosaurs, where Mothra as fighter jet rips Ghidora’s tail off, which promptly burrows to the center of the earth, while poorly animated tyrannosaur and triceratops exchange meaningful glances. Regrettably, I’m still not making it up.
While composing my next page of “Digger”–starting to build up a good backlog for Graphicsmash, which is a good thing–she’s strolling through the forest, and it occurs to me that she’s probably singing. This is what I would do. I don’t sing loudly, mind you, because I have a voice like a crow with a sinus condition, but I still sing. Particularly in the car. I have been known to drive around the block to catch the final stanza of “American Pie,” or “Comfortably Numb,” because yes, Virigina, I am a dork.
So then I thought, “What do wombats sing about?” The answer was immediately obvious–they sing about digging of course, or maybe mining. So I looked up songs about mining on the internet.
And this is when I discover that almost all mining songs are in fact about the needs to organize a union because the company store are bastards. One even contained the marvelous line “I’m a coal-miner’s wife, I’m sure I wish you well/Let’s send this evil capitalist system down the pit of hell.”
They just don’t write lyrics like that anymore.
However, I can’t really see our wombat heroine spouting such things. All wombats are, of course, union. There’s never been any labor disputes, there being no one to dispute with, and since wombat health care consists of “Put some mud on it, you’ll be fine,” the issue of benefits doesn’t arise. Nevertheless, wombats concientiously pay their dues, and attend the meetings once a month, where they read the minutes from the last meeting and then vote on such vital matters as what shaft to hold the union picnic in this year, and who’s bringing potato salad. Protest songs are not in their nature.
So if anybody knows any songs about mining that do not involve organizing a union or dying in poverty, or what ungrateful bastards the consumers are, I’d love to hear them. Hell, if anyone wants to write a stanza or two, I will happily credit the author of such if it gets used. It can be complete doggerel, it just needs to be a few lines that a wombat can hum while strolling through the woods.
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