kindertrauma

Category: Holidays

Kinder-News :: Beware the Pincher Penny

Posted on By aunt john

penny


As a special public service announcement to all of the chain jewelry store managers within our readership, your Unkle Lancifer and I would like to make everyone aware of a little thief hitting up all the malls up and down the East coast. You see, it was just yesterday that I, in my kerchief, and Unkle Lancifer, in his cap, set out for Kay Jewelers to shoplift me one of them there to-die-for Open Hearts Necklaces by Jane Seymourâ„¢.

Lancifer and I had our whole grift planned out: I would try on the necklace; he would tell me that it really brings out the brown in my eyes; I would giggle and tell the shop girl that we really couldn't afford such a beautiful piece of jewelry; she would yawn and smile uncomfortably; Lancifer would then fake an epileptic seizure, causing a distraction, and then I would slip off to the food court with necklace while pandemonium ensued. We would then meet up later at the Orange Julius, and maybe split some waffle fries from the Chick-fil-A.

It was a solid plan (and we've used it before successfully to get ourselves some Snuggies from Two Guys).

Anyhows, when we arrived at the shoppe, the display cases were bare… since our little nemesis Penny Woods had already been there.

Check out the surveillance tape below. She sometimes works with an accomplice who pretends to steal her wallet. She is not to be trusted.

Kinder-Editorial :: Intolerance Abounds at the North Pole! by Sam Snowman

Posted on By kinderpal mickster

AUNT JOHN SEZ: Hey kids, with relatively few shoplifting days left until X-Mas, your Unkle Lancifer and I are off today looking for some last-minute steals. Thankfully, Kinderpal Mickster was kind enough to pass along this essay she received from Sam Snowman, narrator of the RANKIN & BASS classic RUDOLPH THE RED-NOSED REINDEER. Take it away Sam:

It has come to my attention that the North Pole has become a hotbed for intolerance over the years. I believe that I have pinpointed the source of this lack of understanding. Santa Claus himself appears to be the catalyst for the effects plaguing this area. Santa, by his example, has made clear that individuals considered "misfits" should be taunted and bullied. Let us look at the list of offenders.

Donner is the first to notice that there is something different about his son, Rudolph. Immediately, he panics because he knows Santa will not tolerate such differences. This is soon confirmed when Santa comes by to congratulate the couple on the birth of their son. When Santa sees the red nose, he warns Donner that Rudolph won't be able to pull his sleigh in the future, if his nose remains red. Donner, regardless of his wife's objections, decides to hide Rudolph's nonconformity so that others will accept him.

The Head Elf has obviously been trained well by Santa to squash nonconformists like bugs. His borderline violent reaction to Hermey's dream to be a dentist drives that point home. How dare Hermey want to do anything other than toy making?

Comet and the other reindeer start making fun of Rudolph the moment his red nose is revealed thus revealing that they too have been infected by the trickle down effects of prejudice.

An unidentified person obviously banished the misfit toys to the island ruled by King Moonracer. Though I can't be certain, I speculate that Santa was involved. Of course, he would not want the world to think he produces misfit toys. The only way to make the problem disappear would be to get rid of those toys.

Discrimination against females is also a huge problem in the North Pole. Santa belittles Mrs. Claus at every opportunity, and Donner totally disregards his wife's opinions on the subject of child rearing. When it comes time to search for Rudolph, Donner is quick to tell Mrs. Donner that this is, "Man's work."

With all these examples of intolerance, I want to assure you that there are a few individuals with accepting hearts:

  • Mrs. Donner wants to do right by her son, but she allows her husband to make all the decisions
  • Clarice accepts Rudolph and even finds his difference attractive. She risks punishment from her father to help Rudolph
  • Yukon Cornelius calls Hermey and Rudolph misfits, but does decide to help them in spite of their differences
  • King Moonracer allows the misfit toys to inhabit his island. He tells Rudolph that he cannot hide from his problems. He also requests that Rudolph speak on the behalf of the misfit toys when he returns to Christmas Town

In the end, it took the misfits' rescue of Donner, Mrs. Donner, and Clarice for individuals to admit their prejudices. Donner apologized to his son, the head elf agreed to let Hermey open a dentist office, Santa asked Rudolph to pull his sleigh, and Santa agreed to pick up the misfit toys.

Unfortunately, a tall, bespectacled elf that wishes to remain anonymous shared his opinion with me, "You can't teach an old elf new tricks. Santa is still an intolerant douche bag. He only agreed to have Rudolph pull his sleigh because of the great blizzard, not because he accepts him." He went on to add this chilling detail, "There is proof that Santa dumped the misfit toys over Siberia with nothing but an umbrella to cushion their fall."

Traumafessions :: Reader Toby B. on NutCracker Fantasy

Posted on By aunt john

Hey all, long time reader, first time submitter.

While I suffered many, many traumatic events (THE PEANUT BUTTER SOLUTION, SALEM'S LOT, etc.) the worst and most pervasive for me was the 1979 film NUTCRACKER FANTASY released by Rankin/Bass. Granted, from what I understand it was originally released in theatres, but I caught it for the first time on television (it's a tad older than I am, so I missed it in theatres) and so I probably didn't suffer quite the level of trauma that those children whose parents took them to see what would probably have been touted as a "family film" in the day, but it is still absolutely terrifying for me.

I personally have to say this movie's the the worst traumatizer for me because of the (in)famous Rag Man character that literally had the complete opposite effect on me than what was obviously (in retrospect) intended.  My parents probably wondered why I couldn't sleep for three days afterward my viewing without having terrible nightmares compounded by the fact I was terrified of being awake to keep from having those nightmares.  The rest of the movie was extremely trippy, and as such I cannot really tell you too much more about the film, aside from the fact that the finale song "Dance of the Dolls" (or something of the sort) has been constantly kicking around in the back of my head for the last 20-odd years, surpassing the annoyance caused by "It's a Small World" by far.

Lucky for me (or unlucky, depending on your opinion), the film has never been commercially released on DVD, so I can avoid it as a part of the usual Christmas deluge of Rankin/Bass films.  Unfortunately for me, though, the fact that I cannot watch it again means that I can't exorcise the horrors of my childhood by watching it again and seeing how foolish my fear is.

It is foolish, right?  Right?

AUNT JOHN SEZ: Nope Toby, there's nothing foolish about the way you feel. Based on the introductory footage we were able to unearth below, I'd be hesitant to sit through the whole special, save for the fact that it does star two of my personal heroes JO ANNE WORLEY and EVA GABOR (as Queens Morphia and Time, respectively). I would like to add though, RANKIN & BASS (per my crack sources) did not actually have a hand in this holiday nightmare. Director TAKEO NAKAMURA did work as an animator on the R&B special SANTA CLAUS IS COMIN' TO TOWN, but that is where the connection ends.

Name That Trauma :: A Very Special Little Matchstick Girl Edition

Posted on By aunt john

AUNT JOHN SEZ: Today's NAME THAT TRAUMA, courtesy of kinderpal Ratsawgod, is unique in that he knows the name of his trauma, he just can't place the version of it. Please bust out your Kleenex, and leave your guesses in the comments section (or email 'em to us).

Take it away Ratsawgod:

It's Christmas and, as usual, my mind returns to one of my very first Kindertraumas ever.

It was the mid-1970's and my parents had just left me in the care of relatives to attended an adults-only Christmas party. I was planted in the game room set up in their attic and, left to fend for myself for a few hours, I innocently turned on the television. Then it happened: I was exposed the story of THE LITTLE MATCH GIRL, by Hans Christian Andersen.

I remember that it was an animated version. I remember there were these narrative bookends used in the telling of the story; a boy is sitting on the steps of a city building (possibly a library) and he begins telling the tale to a lone dog (possibly a stray.) We are then dropped into the story as Hans Christian Andersen wrote it, in all of its heartbreaking humanity and horror. At the end of the cartoon, we cut back to the boy on the steps as he concludes the story. The dog is still there, and now has been joined by many, many other passer-bys, who have stopped their daily activity and are standing there, agog, intently listening to the boy's story as he speaks the final lines. The camera pulls back as we see the boy, the dog, the mass of people. All listening. All thinking. All feeling. Snow falls, wind blows, and it is quiet. The city is still.

Even as I type this, I cannot help but weep. It was the first time, the first time EVER as a small boy I fully understood that bad things can happen to good people, that children CAN be alone in the world, and are absolutely vulnerable to anything. As small boy I was unspeakably stunned by THE LITTLE MATCH GIRL's rags and bare feet in the hard winters night, by the ripping harsh wind, by the fact no body would buy her matches, and by the fact the sheer apathy of the city folk caused her to die.

Right then, right there, as a boy of six or so, I was never, ever the same again. I suddenly understood life was ruthless and hard and that scared me down to the very core of my being.

I doubt if I mentioned this experience to my parents when they returned to pick me up that night, but I bet I hugged them a little harder and said a little prayer to be safely back in their arms again.

I'm guessing this aired sometime between 1975 and 1977. It's a short story, and I think it was also a short cartoon. BUT it may have been a small tale inserted within a larger animated feature. This is all I remember.

Does anyone out there remember this specific version of THE LITTLE MATCH GIRL? I'd love to see it again. It ultimately became such a formative piece of who I am, and even to this very day I still draw upon that early viewing experience. And ponder. And ache. And reflect.

Any help would be greatly appreciated. The mystery of the animated tale has haunted me for decades.