Captain Goonie – Goldfish

Christina Chan – Obsessive Girl

Karl Hundane – Brilliant Man

This is the 50th installment of Unsung Heroes of Subtlety and I’d like to take this time to express my gratitude toward Owl of Parliament and his fantastic series of comics.

A lot of contributors have come and gone over the years at Julius Bloop but Unsung Heroes has remained such a steadfast part of the site – I’m really happy to be associated with it. We have watched a clear progressive in Owl’s artistic style as he has tackled everything from obsessive football fans to haunted combs.

For those who don’t know – Owl usually sends a long list of Unsung ideas to me – which I give my feedback on and then he creates the comics from there. I choose the names and descriptions once they’re being published. It’s been a lot of fun talking about weirdos and Unsung Heroes is a perfect outlet for weirdo comedy.

So thanks again – if you guys want to mention any of your favorite comics or just want to leave a nice comment celebrating Unsung Heroes Of Subtlety – please do.

This is a parody of The Notorious B.I.G.’s classic track “Gimme The Loot” set in medieval times. The video clips are from various episodes of The Adventures of Robin Hood and a Robin Hood film from 1922. I made this for fun – hope you like it.

Giveth Thy Lute

All you serfs better know

My chap George left a bow and a quiver at my home
Didnt pay taxes to salute the Throne
One to three hell be out in 1393
Im ready to get this coinage, G you with thee?

Absolutely right, my satchels looking kind of tight
And Im vexed, my lord get the weapon chest

No need for that, just grab your feathered cap
The first saccus thats fat, thy claymores in his back
Word is truth, I will shank him, dont mime your moves
Treat it like fencing, parry/salute parry/salute

Baron, you need not to explain this
Ive been pilfering these peasants since the plague hit
With the same flail and the same paddle blade
Shank to and fro until Ive stoned another knave
Tis my code, stewards even try to en garde
Have his mother singing like a baaaard

Yes, Monk, love your royal attitude
Cause a fop that speak rubbish
Tis a fop Ill gork n spew
And spill guts, with the mace Im swingin
Scalds on the palms from the cauldron spillin
Then I gallop cross the moors and Im roguing wenches too
Up the arrow loops and skirt hoops
I dont give a groat if your dress shorn
Give me the coronets and the number one male baby born

Im flogging fops like Charlemagne joy is pain
When its time to supper feed, its grog or mead
Cause thine dowry didnt giveth thee daub
So for the barm and bullace, I leave beggars in the barrow
Word to vassal, Im Man-at-arms
Crazier than a fief of mad castle guards
When they breach thy vaults, heathens fly from catapults
Im all that and a jesters hat, where the shillings at?

Give me the lute. Give me the lute.
Give me the lute. Give me the lute.

Big up, big up, tis a stick up, stick up
And Im spearing squires quicker than a hiccup
Dont let my double axe up in your loin and cod piece
Order of gold fleece, neither pax nor peace
Youre talking to the thievery sokeman
Step into your pyre with thy blood on my robe
Dont be a boob and get slashed over being resistant
Cause when I pierce chains the knights need assistance

Goodness, gracious, the taxes
Where the marks at? Where the larks at?
Villein, hark that before you get your head dropped
From the hood fop, bloody guillotine-chop
And my main Yeoman has an itchy sword grip

One on his back, double-edged with a hilt
Feudal sheriffs better strip, yeah, justice, peel
Before you find out how broadswords feel

From the war hammer, putting all the holes in your scabbard
The shilling grabber, feudal stewards dont have better
Crescent circlets, tiaras and brooches
Im pilfering goblets, Henry V couldnt stop it

Man, Marshals come through Im taking regal crest rings too
Wenches defrock for their earrings and buckles
And when I turn her and hurt her it’s ending up in murder
And if shes a witch then, burn her, burn her, burn her

So go get your bailiff, wench, he can get robbed too
Tell him serfs took it, what decree’s he gonna doom?

I pray apologetic or I will have to set it
And if I set it, the village idiot wont forget it

Give me the lute. Give me the lute.
Give me the lute. Give me the lute.

Knight listen, gallivantings wearing thy feet
But Maiden looks sweet (wheres that?) inside the castle keep

Servi, grab him by the throat, toss him in the moat
And if he bellows mercy, make haste or its the halimote
Hold up, hes got a princess in the carriage car
Silk, jewels and gown-dressed, she thinks shes the Queen of all

Oh, allow me to grab her, then Im gonna stab her
hit her with the rapier

Be still, Earl let me do that
Just grab the steads mane and gallop round the leet
Her heinous acts scared, cesspit shell sleep
(My liege, the law!) be still, friend, they will not approach us men
Just want to tax again
(So whys their gaze yet affixed?) I guess to ride the River Styx
Returned from a bludgeon, not trying to see another dungeon
Oh, great, they hue and crying my face
You best ride quick, we start equestrian chase
So latch up your boots for Im about to shoot
A true rogue minstrel going out for the lute

So why is his second high-concept Hollywood comedy, The Invention of Lying, so shitty?

Things sour right off the bat with a hammy narration by Gervais explaining the movie’s premise. What the hell, man, can’t trust your audience to catch on? I think it’s safe for us to take the title of your movie literally and assume it’s going to be about a world where everyone tells the truth, blunt and awful as it is, and a lone fatso somehow invents the first lie.

It’s a decent concept. It must be, Mr. Smartypants Q. Gervais thought of it! Imagine the possibilities. Gervais’ liar could hold a mirror up to humanity, Joker-style, and expose our society for the fragile framework of falsehoods it depends upon to function. Y’know, reaalllyyyy play with the concepts of truth, trust and reality. Which it almost does.

Or at least use his newfound power to acquire wealth, fame and power in a madcap series of comedic gambits. Which he almost does!

Until the story takes a wild diversion into religious satire territory. Then my brain flipped open the top of my skull, donned a cap and a briefcase and walked up the block to the bus stop to wait for the Better Comedy express.

It never arrived.

Turns out, The Invention of Lying is Ricky Gervais’ snobbish Tirade Against Religion Delivery System (or TARDS), something I have absolutely no interest in especially when it’s this tiresome and unfunny. Wow, a comedian railing against how silly the idea of a “man in the sky” is? Now THAT’S fresh! HA HA HA. . .

I’ve got nothing against subtext so long as it’s artfully done, and even better, hidden between the weaves of a movie’s plot. Hell, I love tales of bleak, cynical godlessness as much as the next buttfucking hipster. But I do have a big problem with dumb, bald-faced message movies that do nothing to hide stupid agendas no one in their right mind gives a shit about.

Really, Ricky? Religion is a big fat lie? Well, it made your character’s dying mother feel awfully nice, didn’t it? So why go through the rest of the movie mocking it, complete with Pizza Hut-box-Moses-tablets and a Jesus beard out of left field?

Yes, at one point Gervais, who lies that he’s God’s messenger, actually dons Christ’s rock god locks and expects laughs. No. No way, Jose. You gotta work way harder than that. A bunch of repetitive “hurr god is stupid jokes” don’t cut it. They barely cut it when Mel Brooks and a billion other fucking funnymen did it 400 billion times before.

I figured Ricky would be more original than going neener neener at Christianity and ending his movie with a pregnant Jennifer Garner, eager to pump out more “short, fat, pug-nosed children.” Which confuses me because why should this hyper-liberal farce end with such a conservative status quo of an ending like the perfect marriage with kids?

Awesome Rick, you just made a namby-pamby Disney movie with slightly more gay-bashing and masturbation references.

I can’t imagine Gervais is too happy with Lying since he’s such a cynical, smart guy, and he must be aware of how lousy it is, but then he co-wrote and directed it and now hobknobs with the rest of the rich, Hollywood elite he used to mock so ruthlessly, so probably not. How’s the view from the top of the mountain? Mind tossing down a few shillings for our collection plate?

Prick.

***Tim Magus is Julius Bloop’s film reviewer. Visit his website – Grump Factory***

Tall guy short girl – applebees. You know what I’m talking about?

Greetings, all in the internet realm! Jerry Bloop, here – with another one of life’s lessons. Can’t play guitar? Don’t want to practice? NO PROBLEM! Just follow these simple steps and you’re on your way to getting a serious beating!

Here is an old commercial for HO Oats. The only Oats that looks like curdled cum and give you a sweet ass. I’m not sure about the ethics of this ad but it was clearly controversial in its time.

Children with backpacks are going to school. Adults with backpacks are going to hike. Old people with backpacks are going to need back surgery.

Bread should not have seeds. I want a sandwich – not bird food. Birds don’t eat sandwiches and if they did – I’m sure they’d be made out of bugs. Bird diets are the worst!

Raisinettes should pour all their advertising money into commercials featuring a trio of claymation Motown singers that sing songs about eating themselves. It might be cannabilistic and infringe on some California Raisins copyrights but what the hell? You’re a raisin covered in chocolate.

I figure that negative toothbrushing involves slathering your teeth with chocolate syrup and rubbing it around with one of those sugar sticks you get with Fun Dip. Or just eating a package of Fun Dip.

Sometimes I write rap songs in my head but have no idea how to implement them. Like the other day I kept rapping to myself “I got a girlfriend now so I wear this sweater/Drinkin’ pineapple juice so my jizz tastes better” Man, I should sell that to Snoop Dogg or at least Soulja Boy.

If I was a trapeze artist I would wear a rubber penis on my forehead. That dong would flop around magnificently as I flip through the circus air. Sure, I’ll get fired and banished from Barnum and Baileys when I return to the ground but the children in the big tent that lazy afternoon will never forget Cockflop The Flying Trapeze Artist.

Hey, come in here. I got something to tell ya. If you think men just want to be friends, ladies – you’re in for a surprise. Here’s a secret from the closet that might save everyone some trouble.