Good morning, hockey fans! Last week we jacked into the Sunshine Pumper 5000 to get a true read on these maddenly inconsistent Dallas Stars; this week, I was planning on writing my bi-annual epic holiday poem, “Twas a Mark Fistric Fistmas”, but in light of recent events decided to go in another vaguely hockey-related direction.

Namely, my buddies Gary Bettman, Colin Campbell, Lucifer and I were sitting around the league offices last week, bored out of our freakin’ skulls. So rather than play one more game of strip-Uno, we decided it was time once again to eff with our least favorite team, the Detroit Red Wings. Astute Cupcheck fans already know the long, well-documented history of hatred the NHL has towards the Red Wings: the sheer amount of conspiracies we’ve launched against those slack-naped yokels rivals even the Priory of Sion.

Above: the most recent map of Michigan

But one thing we’ve never been able to do –save one fateful, ultimately unproductive day– has been to infiltrate the city of Detroit, become one with their fans and bring the whole organization down from the inside. While our BertuzziBot continues it’s good work in this endeavor, it was time to send a real live human being into Detroit. This was not going to be easy.

To begin with, the last time I forayed into the maneating environs of Detroit, I was practically eaten alive. With my heart ripped out and my spirit broken, it was unlikely that I could ever recover enough for such a dangerous journey. The spot-on comments from Red Wings fans had taken my legs right out from beneath me, paralyzing me for life.

But then Bettman had a plan: “Why don’t we put your razor sharp wit and magical Jedi powers into the hollowed-out shell of a Red Wing fan?” I’ll admit, I wasn’t keen on the idea at first: the smell of tire fires and moldy refridgerators was vomit-inducing. And don’t get me started on the thin layer of actual vomit lining the inside of the ex-Detroiter.

“This may hurt a little,” Campbell said as he sawed off the top of my head, grabbed my brain and slapped it into the Red Wing fan’s surprisingly wear-and-tear-free cranium. At first, I could see nothing but darkness and phantom hooking calls by Blackhawks forwards; but after a short adjustment period and some heavy blows to the head with a large blunt object, my transformation was complete. I was now the Avatar of the National Hockey League, and ready to infiltrate Detroit.

My mission: to act as an advance scout for the satanic minions of the NHL in it’s unrelenting quest to obtain and wrest the precious Stanley Cup from grubby, primitive Red Wing hands.

After Bettman dumped me off at the city limits, I was immediately struck by the pristine, unspoiled eden-esque rainforest of Detroit. Detroit’s biosphere is filled with incredible life forms, some beautiful, many terrifying, and at the top of this area’s awe-inspiring food chain are the Swe’di, a sentient humanoid race, who are considered primitive, yet are more physically capable on slick, icy surfaces than humans.

Our crack team of MS Paint experts found this photo of the beautiful and elusive Datsuki

Protected from catapulted cephalopods due to my outer casing, I came to realize many poetic truths about the unfairly-maligned city of Detroit. Firstly, I learned that I was not the first NHL lackey to try and seize the Cup: as hockey humans encroached deeper into Detroit’s lush forests in search of the valuable hardware, the Swe’di had historically unleashed their formidable puckhandling abilities to defend both their threatened existence and the Cup (i.e., their God-given birthright). Another fun fact: the “Red Wings” are so named for the constantly-menstruating pterodactyls every Detroit resident must train and fly (currently the only viable mode of transportation in the city).

I also learned the Yoda-like wisdom of Gary Bettman when, taking a quick break from my recon duties, I opened a mouth-valve in the head-casing. Thirty minutes later, it dawned on me: since humans are unable to breathe the air in Detroit, they had to create genetically-bred human-Swe’di hybrids known as Avatars. But what had happened to previous Avatars sent by the NHL?

Coming upon a friendly tribe of Swe’di, I quickly had my answer: the sultry female Detroiter, Datsuki. At first, even though I was struck by her blood red beauty and feminine looks, I was still able to focus on my mission of evil by thinking about baseball. But after fifteen uncomfortable minutes of visualizing Jose Canseco insert a syringe into parts best left unknown, I could resist no longer: removing my own brain with a rusty rivet I stole from a jungle hobo, I decided to permanently become a Red Wings fan, fighting with the NHL’s perennial underdogs against the Evil Capitalist Empires of Penguins and Blackhawks. As I jabbed away at my grey matter, I was filled with a large number of powerful emotions –damn that intent to blow call!!– but a darkness soon came over me, and the next thing I remember I’m back at the underground lairs where NHL executives are cloned. Gary Bettman’s gentle voice wakes me from my head injury-induced slumber.

“Hey, hopscotch! Wake up!! What side are you on, anyways?”

And with that, they gave me a Hello Kitty band-aid and shoved me into a dumpster out back. But I learned something in those wild, eye-opening few hours: Detroit is a city on the rise, where everyone lives in perfect harmony with the earth and their environment, full of the most intelligent and drop-dead gorgeous fans on earth. It’s also an excellent place to sustain a self-inflicted head injury.

Tune in next week when we pick out which novelty fart gags should go to each Dallas Star. The strange odors may surprise you.

Şu ruju kırmızı olan adam !
Dün ayakkabısız köleydi
Bugün ipsiz bir kukla
Yarın tarafsız bir savaş
Ama ona öyle demiyorlar !
Dün yoksulun yanındaymış
Bugün yolsuza rehber
Yarın başına düşecek taş olsa da
Sana kırmızı rujunu
Bana çöpten çıkma ruhunu-
Göstermeyi ne kadar da sevdi !
Şu ruju kırmızı olan adam …
Adını öğreneli çok olmadı
Duyanlar ikiye bölünüyor
Bir : tanıyıp susanlar
İki : tanımayıp susanlar
Ve işte baban anlatmıştır
Yıllardır susarak savaşırlar
Susarak katlanırlar
Susarak satarlar birbirlerini
Susarak ölürler !
Duymayanlar da iki çeşit
Bir : kendi kulaklarını
İki : başkasının kulaklarını tıkayan
Bunu da annen söylemiştir
Yıllardır duymadan yaşarlar
Duymadan konuşurlar
Duymadan dinlerler birbirlerini
Duymadan ölürler …
Şu kırmızı rujlu adam !
Beni doğduğum günden beri sevmedi
Ben de onu bu dünyada-
Hiç mi hiç görmek istemedim
O herkese dokunabiliyor !
O herkesi görebiliyor !
Herkesi tutup evine götürebiliyor
Ve çok denedim gitmeyi
Ama silahları bana engel oluyor …

zuhal tunç

Kukla Kız Oyunları Oyna

Bir zamanda ve bir mekanda,

Yaşıyordu binbir kukla.

Peki ya kim umursardı,

İpleri, görünmüyorlarsa?

Şarkılar söylüyorlardı,

Ancak yoktu notaları.

Kızgındılar, gülüyorlarsa da;

Ve konuşurlardı en çok,

Sustuklarında.

Tiktaklarını dinliyorlardı, kadim bir saatin,

Akmayı unutan bir denizin altından;

Ve vahiy sayıyorlardı, boğuk çınlamalarını.

Yanlış yollara sapmışlardı, zira aksak yürüyorlardı,

Ve daima, yolun kendisini suçlamışlardı,

Nasıl da gelmez akıllarına, yere bakmak!

Her defasında, ayakkabılarını ters giyiyorlardı.

Çürümeye başladıklarında, nefes alıyorlardı halen,

Hatta, yeni ayrılmışlardı, annelerinden.

Ölü doğmuş çocuklardı hepsi,

Düşük yapmıştı tüm anneler.

Korktukları için ölümden, cennete inanıyor,

İnandıkları için cennete, cehennemden korkuyorlardı.

İçine girmekti, sahnenin sonu, ruhsuz tabutların,

Perde hiç açılmamıştı aslen, bilmiyorlardı.

Fısıldamak isterdim tek tek,

Herbirinin kulağına, ancak

Herkes için konuşurum ben, herkese değil!

Ve açıklamak için yetmez hayatı, sonsuz sayıda cümle;

Ancak, açıklanabilir tek bir harfle bile.

Ondandır ki, Güneş’i gösteremem size,

İşaretler vardır ışıkta, takip etmesini bilene.

Diriltmektir mucizem, ölüleri,

Farketmelerini sağlayarak, öldüklerini.

Ve bu bir davet değildir yaşama,

Bir yıldızdır, doğumunu haber veren,

Nefes almadan da konuşabilen bir neslin!

On3maphossi

August 19, 1954

“Radio – Television”
By Burr Tillstrom
As told to Win Fanning, Post-Gazette Radio & TV Writer

Aufwiedersehen, ‘KFO’

Today we break precedent to present, almost in its entirety, a letter from the producer of a television program.  It is a long letter, and to us a very sad one.  It spells the temporary (we hope) departure of a good “friend” from network TV.  Nothing so far produced on either commercial or so-called “educational” TV has touched the truly educational quality of “Kukla, Fran & Ollie.”  We can only hope that our fellow lovers of KFO will express themselves to the networks in sufficient number to force the return of KFO to the National (and Pittsburgh, of course) airlanes.

Chicago, Illinois
August 19, 1954

Dear Win:

According to some of the newspaper clippings that have come to our office during the past two months, the future of “Kukla, Fran & Ollie” is pretty cloudy and a little confused.  I’ve read that we are to be a part of “Tonight,” “Home,” “Today,” the “Spectaculars,” or that we were moving to a local show, or that we will not be on television at all.

Since most of these reports have been based on rumor and conjecture, I thought it would be good to try to bring you up to date and to clear up the record from the Kulapolitan side of the story, at least.

A year ago when we began our second season of a half-hour show, once-a-week, I had grave doubts about the wisdom of continuing in that format.  But, as Buelah Witch says, “A contract in the hand is worth two in the bush!”, and so we went into the season hoping that we could hold our own on a once-a-week basis.

We learned to be just a little sharper, to focus ideas, to time songs and situations in a cleaner way than was possible on the five-a-week schedule.  But, unfortunately, this was not enough to satisfy us or (it appeared) our friends in the audience.

People all over the country continued to ask when we would “be on every night again,” and even more important, Fran and all the other backstage Kuklapolitans began to wonder what Kukla and Ollie did during the week . . .  In other words, Kukla and Ollie almost ceased to exist for us except on Sundays, and even then, the format began to be too rigid for a real visit.

And so, after meeting with Fran, Beulah Zachary, Lew Gomavitz, Joe Lockwood and the other members of our production staff, I decided, last April, that “Kukla, Fran & Ollie” must somehow return to a daily spot on television or else go off the air.  As you know, “KFO” has always been a work of love for all of us, and we couldn’t deliberately put the show in a position which would eventually destroy the fun for us and for our friends.

When the show was cut, two years ago, I was strongly against the change, but there were contracts involved and it seemed that a daily show was out of the question.  In order to stay on the air at that time, I believed that we should at least try the half-hour format.  Well, we’ve tried and it isn’t the answer.

From the beginning, “Kukla, Fran & Ollie” has been different from any other show, and if it is to remain a part of American television scene, it must preserve that difference which is part of its integrity.

“KFO” is not a spectacular, nor is it a situation comedy.  It is not a CHILDREN’S SHOW, nor is it a CULTURE-CONSCIOUS PROGRAM for intellectual adults.  It has a magic of its own which enchants not only the friends who watch it, but all of us who are responsible for its creation.  It seems to attract all ages and all kinds of minds.  We’ve never expected the largest audience in television, but we’ve had a consistently loyal and strong audience of moderate size.  (As a matter of fact, when we ended our five-a-week show, two years ago, we had one of the top ratings for a strip.)

Kukla, Fran and Ollie have quiet voices and gentle ways.  If we have any purpose on the American scene, it is to satirize in a a kindly way, our lives, the lives of people everywhere, to kid some of the little annoyances and foibles that often grow out of proportion in the world today.  We can comment on what we see, and give our impressions of what we think and feel about contemporary happenings and people.  We don’t try to EDUCATE, we don’t claim any overwhelming philosophical undertones.  WE ONLY HOPE TO ENTERTAIN.  (Our capitals—Editor).

And so, our position is this:  If there is room for our kind of entertainment on television, then “away we go.”  If not, then “KFO” will not be on the air.

Before I left on vacation, I made all of this very clear to all the networks.  In other words, I told them we were available on some sort of daily basis.  I had a most friendly meeting (in the interest of our possible participation on “Tonight.”)

I made it clear that we would move to New York if it was necessary.  We also discussed a much more remote possibility on “Home.”  As of this date, I have heard nary a word.  However, I have had good news from our oldest friends in the business—WBKB, here in Chicago.

“Red” Quinlan who used to be Audio Man in “KFO” when we first started is now vice president of WBKB.  John Mitchell who was station manager in those early days is now vice president of WABC-TV in New York.  During the past year, both John and Red, together with Mr. John Balaban, have discussed with me our returning to WBKB on a daily basis, and when I returned from my vacation, we decided to explore this possibility further and at the moment are hoping to return to our original 7:00 p.m. spot for a 15-minute show nightly.

For the immediate future, this does not promise a large network, but we have hopes that we will be able to recapture many of the stations which have been so friendly and loyal during the past seven years.  All the members of the Kuklapolitan organization feel that it’s far better to return to a strip basis even on a small network than to try to maintain a large network with the wrong kind of show.

Fran and the Kuklapolitans join me in all best wishes.

Sincerely,

Burr Tillstrom

Pittsburgh Post-Gazette

KUKLA, OLLIE, and FRAN ALLISON

The stamps the Postal Service issued today under the title “Early TV Memories” omit broadcasting legend Gertrude Berg but do include the influential puppet show “Kukla, Fran and Ollie,” which first appeared 60 years ago. The show adopted the medieval format of hand puppets on a miniature stage, but added on-camera human being Fran Allison to interact with the characters. The major figures were Kukla — a bald creature inexplicably dressed as a clown, and Ollie – a dragon. They were joined as the situation dictated by about a dozen others, including Beulah Witch, Madame Oglepuss, Colonel Crackie, and Fletcher Rabbit, a letter carrier who was always singing “Buffalo Gal, Won’t You Come Out Tonight?”

The show, which was live when it first appeared, was done without a script. While Fran Allison was sort of an innocent, many of the puppet characters were wise-crackers. The impromptu gags often brought on audible laughter from the crew — with whom the characters frequently exchanged remarks. There is an instance of that kind of interaction — a gag about ad agencies — in the 1951 episode at the link below. That episode also has an example of a commercial — this one for a brand of shampoo — that is worked into the story line, a common device in early televison. There is also a more conventional commercial for Tide at the end of the program. The half-hour show included only those two commercials.

KUKLA and OLLIE

“Kukla, Fran and Ollie” was the brainchild of Burr Tillstrom, who appears briefly at the end of the episode I have linked to. Tillstrom worked all the puppets and provided their voices. What is most striking about his concept in this show is that it was not played for slapstick laughs and it was not condescending to children. It was conducted on such a thoughtful level, in fact, that its audience among adults was reputed to be at least as large as its audience among children. In the episode I have linked to, the characters make several references to “Tallulah” and “Tallulah’s place in New York.” Those were references to the stage and film actress Tallulah Bankhead, who was one of many public figures who were enthusiastic followers of the show.

BEULAH WITCH

The leisurely pace of “Kukla, Fran and Ollie” was in sharp contrast to the frenetic programming that dominates television today. Tillstrom’s show relied heavily on character, and that was an important part of its attraction for adults. In this and other respects, the show foreshadowed — and, in fact, led to — the Muppets. The simple and silly figure of Oliver Dragon — who could be at turns romantic and manipulative — became as real and sympathetic to his audience as Burt and Ernie and Kermit became to theirs. Tillstrom and Allison recognized that; in fact, Ollie unblushingly discusses his charisms in the episode at this link:

http://video.google.com/videosearch?gbv=2&hl=en&q=kukla%20fran%20and%20ollie&ie=UTF-8&sa=N&tab=iv#

A Los Angeles Times story about the release of a DVD collection of later episodes of “Kukla, Fran, and Ollie” is at this link:

http://www.latimes.com/entertainment/news/la-et-kukla11-2009aug11,0,1322349.story

KUKLA, BURR TILSTROM, FRAN ALLISON, and OLLIE

The following images serve as inspiration for the branding of Steven J. Kukla, a Los Angeles based composer for film, television, and theatre. We wanted to create a website, logo, and overall identity that could embody what it is composing is in a physical and relatable form. To us, this form was a machine.

Bizim Mahalle hafta içi her gün sabah 11′de, tekrarı öleden sonra 4′ de TRTçocukta (TRT4)

çok çalıştık artık ne yapmışız görme zamanı…

asuman krause kukla video izle seyret