Tape Deck Tuesdays

The current posting schedule for this site means that this entry should be part of "Trailer Tuesdays", where I post a link to a relatively new movie trailer and mention my thoughts about it. The problem was, that I watch trailers so often that I don't think one a week is enough, so what's a guy to do?

It's pretty bare-bones at the moment, but IGTM (this site), now has a sister-project called "Parked Trailers". The pun is pretty terrible, but the best ones usually are. I'll try to pop the reviews on there on a daily basis, and if you like trailers definitely check it out as it grows over the next few weeks.

So what am I going to do with the Tuesday slot then? Well let's go back to alliteration land for inspiration shall we? *looks at "Words Starting With 'T'" on Google*. Well, without further ado I introduce my newest feature: Tape Deck Tuesdays.

Basically, I will pick some random piece of nostalgia to remind everyone of, and talk about how awesome/terrible/terribly awesome it is. The entry for this week: Rod Sterling's narrations from The Twilight Zone.



If you're unfamiliar do yourself a favor, stop what you're doing, and familiarize yourself with The Twilight Zone right away. I will maintain that not only was it the best show on television at the time, but the best show ever created. It was a great platform for science-fiction stories to reach a wide audience, and provided some of the most hilariously badass lines of narration in history. Here are some great examples:

Portrait of a town drunk named Al Denton. This is a man who's begun his dying early—a long agonizing route through a maze of bottles. Al Denton, who would probably give an arm or a leg or a part of his soul to have another chance, to be able to rise up and shake the dirt from his body and the bad dreams that infest his consciousness. In the parlance of the times, this is a peddler, a rather fanciful-looking little man in a black frock coat. And this is the third principal character of our story. (a gun appears) Its function? Perhaps to give Mister Al Denton his second chance.


Commonplace, if somewhat grim, unsocial event known as a necktie party. The guest of dishonor a cowboy named Joe Caswell, just a moment away from a rope, a short dance several feet off the ground, and then the dark eternity of all evil men. Mr. Joe Caswell, who, when the good Lord passed out a conscience, a heart, a feeling for fellow men, must have been out for a beer and missed out. Mr. Joe Caswell, in the last quiet moment of a violent life.

Clown. Hobo. Ballet Dancer. Bagpiper. And an Army Major. A collection of question marks. Five improbable entities stuck together into a pit of darkness. No logic, no reason, no explanation. Just a prolonged nightmare in which fear, loneliness, and the unexplainable walk hand in hand through the shadows. In a moment, we'll start collecting clues as to the whys, the whats, and the wheres. We will not end the nightmare, we'll only explain it, because this is the Twilight Zone.

Seriously, what's not to love?