“If you’ve ever taken a road trip through the Pacific Northwest, you’ve probably seen a bumper sticker for a place called Gravity Falls. It’s not on any maps and most people have never heard of it. Some people think it’s a myth. But if you’re curious, don’t wait. Take a trip. Find it. It’s out there. Somewhere in the woods. Waiting.”
Ten years ago today, a show premiered that… okay. I’m going to use a line here that is abused to the verge of meaninglessness, which is a shame because I can’t think of a more appropriate use for it. So, that said, a few minutes of your time to talk about Gravity Falls, a show that changed my life.
Hi Sweetie. It’s Uncle August! You’re ready for your bedtime story? Your mommy tells me you love Frozen and it’s been over eight hours since you watched the DVD so you want to hear about it again. Now, I should warn you, I know the story a little differently than the way your mommy and daddy might tell it, okay? See, it turns out the real story of Frozen is actually a story about another story.
Once upon a time, there was a magical kingdom far away from here called “Los Angeles.” High up in a tower, there lived a group of powerful wizards known only as the Strategic Properties Marketing and Revenue Department. They had the power to predict the future, and what they enjoyed most of all was using their powers to figure out what people would like, and most importantly, what they would spend money on. Stop looking bored, dear, this story is important.
A little voice in the back of my head is screaming oh Jesus Christ, August, no, you’re blogging about politics. This is the abyss. You brought this on yourself; just remember that. The next sentence of this post is supposed to be the usual “…but I was just as shocked as everyone last night to hear that Eric Cantor lost his primary against, well, some dude who reads Ayn Rand a lot and promised to do even less in government than the guy he just defeated, who I will remind you, was actually the person in charge of orchestrating the House’s agenda of not doing anything.”
Except a reader reminded me of a cartoon I drew seven (yes, seven, good god) years ago, alerting me that I had sort of been predicting this all along:
Hi everyone. Did you all have a good Christmas? I had a great Christmas. I spent a lot of time thinking about Jesus and I’d like to share what I’ve learned with all of you.
Oh no. I just thought about this too.
I was watching Mickey’s Christmas Carol. I love Mickey’s Christmas Carol. If you forgot it or haven’t seen it, it’s Mickey as Bob Cratchit and Uncle Scrooge McDuck as, well, you know… as Scrooge. Pretty basic- Christmas Carol in the Donald Duck universe.
But here’s the thing- there’s a LOT of stuff that’s “Christmas set in the so and so universe.” And this is where I uncovered something that threatens our very moral fiber.
See, even if Christmas is just a cultural or family event to you—and that’s what it is to me—you still have to acknowledge that Christmas is related to, well, to Jesus. And that’s where I have a serious issue-not a religious one, but an honest, logical crisis of theology. Basically, Christmas specials are all your favorite cartoon characters suddenly knowing who Jesus is. And this makes no sense whatsoever.