The Dissemination of Thought

Just because it's in print doesn't mean it's intelligent…

Posts Tagged ‘Batman

A phone bill paid, an accolade and crazy searches folks have made

with 20 comments

I really need to pay more attention to my list of things to do. As I was paying my almost-overdue mobile phone bill this morning, I realised that I’d neglected to thank someone for throwing some blogging award affection my way.

Carrie from The Write Transition has nominated me for the Very Inspiring Blogger Award and, as with any accolade in the blogging world, there is a list of things I am obliged to do as a recipient. One of the duties is to expose 7 things about myself to those of you staring at your screens with drunken and sleep-deprived eyes. The other task is to bestow the Very Inspiring Blogger Award on 14 individuals of my choosing. Unfortunately, I’m going to fulfil neither responsibility. I’m going to mix it up and do my own thing.

Instead of giving you mundane facts about myself, I’ve decided to share 7 recent search terms that have guided disturbed perverts lost souls to The Dissemination of Thought.

how to sit beside someone you dislike

That’s easy. It’s called alcohol. In the unlikely event that a bottle of vodka doesn’t make the person to your right more bearable, I advocate flinging faeces at them. Childish and disgusting? Yes. Effective? Absolutely.

thalia sextaped

Well, that would explain why my Muse was missing in action last year.

sex you’re doing it wrong

You are if you’ve numbed your hand before using lipstick and a Sharpie to make it look like that girl in your English Literature tutorial.

Remember: you can’t have sex while there’s no one else in the room.

This is definitely doing it wrong. Source:

show me ur dick guys

Slow down, sailor. You’ll have to buy me a drink first. And promise not to laugh.

the gigolo – dumb as a bag of sex toys.

Ladies and gentlemen, it would appear that we have a man-whore hater in our midst.

I don't know, that bag looks pretty smart... Source:

batman fucks wonder woman animation

Do you think Batman carries condoms on his utility belt?

Superman: "Sure, you were just helping him find his batarang." Source: All rights reserved by MargieC1022 via Flickr.

penis burn picture cam inside penis

I’d probably consult a urologist about that. Quickly. I know it will be expensive, but trying to shove a webcam up your urethra to save money won’t help.

As far as my Very Inspiring Blogger Award nominations go, I’ve got 3. Sure, I could list 14 like the rules dictate, but you and I both know you won’t click on all 14. That being the case, I’d rather just tell you about a few blogs that fly under the radar and genuinely deserve recognition.

unrelentingamee – Amee is passionate about writing. Good writing. We bounce a lot of ideas and random thoughts off each other, and she’s one of the very few people whose opinion I trust enough to let read my work before I publish it.

the4gottenman – This blogger’s work is insightful, honest and often incredibly introspective. Besides that, he’s been one of my closest friends for well over a decade, which is no mean feat: I’m a pain in the ass to tolerate.

50 Items or Less – I was actually introduced to this blog by Amee. The brainchild of Ian Little, it’s all about mini sagas: a story told in exactly 50 words. While I love the concept of “less can be more” and uncluttered writing, the 50 word aspect reminded me of my attempt to rewrite Green Eggs and Ham using just 50 unique words. Check out Ian’s personal blog here.

A random Grammy. Source:

I’d like to sincerely thank Carrie for the award. If you haven’t already read her work on The Write Transition, click here right now to check it out.

If you want to keep up to date with all things The Dissemination of Thought, follow me on Twitter (@LyndonKeane) or like the Facebook page.

Gadget Wheels, dinos, mice and banana peels: my Top 4 cartoons of the 80s

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The children of today are screwed. I was writing another piece for today, but I realised it was shit and going nowhere at about the exact time I was hit by a wave of laziness; the notes I had scribbled were scrunched up and thrown across the room, and I plonked myself on the lounge, flicking casually through the channels with no destination in mind. Amidst the soap operas, news programs and advertisements, I came across a children’s cartoon. I have no idea what it was called, but it appeared to be a terrible amalgamation of poor animation, talking dogs and painfully cheerful theme music. Was this really the best we could come up with in the 21st century to entertain kiddies? What the hell happened to the awesome cartoons of the 80s and early 90s?

Feeling lazy and overcome with nostalgia, and with Heather’s article on The B(itch)Log earlier this week still fresh in my mind, I decided to take a stand against the fucked up children’s entertainment of 2012. How am I going to do it? Easy. I’m going to regress twenty or so years and reintroduce the world to my four favourite cartoons of the 80s. Given that I’ve got intellectual maturity of a 9-year-old, it’s not going to be that difficult.


Eric Wimp was just a normal boy who lived at 29 Acacia Road until he indulged in the tropical delight, at which stage he transformed into a nutritious vigilante, intent on keeping the world safe from the evil schemes of corny supervillans. With an outfit that would make Batman reassess what it meant to wear a cowl, Bananaman got around by flying, albeit with a technique reminiscent of a swimming stroke. When the Australian Banana Growers’ Council was working on its marketing strategy, it should have looked no further than the quiet British schoolboy: he’s the poster child for potassium.

Bruce Wayne, eat your heart out. Source:

His greatest achievement? Wearing banana skins as boots and never slipping on them.

This is a banana man, not THE Bananaman. Source:

Danger Mouse

Eye patches: not just for pirates. Source:

The British know comedy, and in the 80s, they were all over cartoons like a fat kid on a cheesecake. Aided by his nerdy hamster offsider Penfold, Danger Mouse was the James Bond of the rodent world, complete with flying car and an eye patch. How could you not love a Mickey Mouse 007 wannabe whose arch-nemesis was an obese toad with emphysema called Baron Silas Greenback?

Ever tried to picture Ernst Stavro Blofeld as a cartoon? Source:

The biggest question to come out of the series pertained to the preferred garb of the furry secret agent: did Danger Mouse wear pants?


Dinosaurs. Lasers. Aliens riding said dinosaurs. This concludes the lesson on why Dino-Riders was such an awesome cartoon. Hell, it was that amazing, it made kids want to learn about palaeontology; there was a time circa 1990 that I could spell the names of most dinosaurs, including Ankylosaurus, Diplodocus and Quetzalcoatlus.

Prehistoric creatures with firepower: the 80s had it all. Source:

Inspector Gadget


Calling this detective bumbling is like calling Kim Jong-il misunderstood. As dumb as he was, you have to respect a guy with rocket-powered roller skates and rotor blades built into his hat.

Inspector Gadget was the pioneer of the cyborg anti-discrimination movement, and taught us to love our fellow man, regardless of whether they were black, white or had telescopic extremities.

Being dumb doesn't matter when you have gadgets. Source:

Important safety tip: do not go out wearing a trench coat and ask women if they’d like to see your Gadget Periscope.

Go-Go Gadget Nostalgia!

Damn. If I could go back to 1989 knowing what I know now, my goal of world domination would be a lot easier to achieve. And I’d be able to appoint Bananaman as the Vice President of Kick-Ass Superhero Costumes. And ride an angry Pachycephalosaurus*, adorned with armour and lasers, instead of catching the bus.

* Author’s note: best dinosaur name of all time.

Screw you, Stan Lee: 3 things that comics lied to me about

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Those people at Marvel and DC Comics have some explaining to do for the lies they indoctrinated me with during my formative years.

Where the lies all began. Source:

Comics misguided me into thinking that any 11-year-old boy could be a billionaire playboy by day and an angry vigilante with a latex fetish when the sun went down. They made me believe that women who ran around with a golden lasso while wearing knee-high hooker boots were of sound mind and available to date. Here’s an important safety tip: if a woman professes to own an invisible airplane, back away slowly.

A hot woman flying an invisible airplane should be a warning sign. Source:

Let’s debunk 3 other childhood beliefs that came to be because of comics:

Belief 1: That wearing glasses and parting my hair on the side would keep my true identity safe.

A thick-rimmed pair of glasses and container of Brylcreem do not an alter ego make. If I threw on a beret and novelty nose/moustache combination I’d still be a giant, and I’d still get picked out of a police line-up in about four seconds. The only conclusion one can draw is that the residents of Metropolis were as dumb as fuck.

If Clark Kent had worked for a real newspaper, he would have been made as Superman the first time he took his glasses off to sing karaoke at an office function. Or when someone smarter than Lois Lane realised that he could always guess what underwear they had on, including the orange and gold crotchless number that they had custom made in Thailand.

Come on Clark, you aren’t fooling anyone. Source:

Belief 2: That wearing my underwear on the outside would make me popular and sexually appealing to women.

Publicly displaying your undergarments – especially when they are worn over your jeans at the railway station – is not socially acceptable behaviour. Doing so will make you about as popular as that one monkey at the zoo that insists on flinging its faeces at the other inhabitants of the enclosure.

As for using exposed briefs as a visual aid to help seduce a woman, I now know that capsicum spray and my eyes can never be friends. Apparently women don’t find a guy in underpants curled up while frantically rubbing his eyes sexy. Go figure.

Dude, you are 43. Just don't do it. Source:

Belief 3: That being bitten by a radioactive spider and shooting stuff from my wrists would allow me to climb walls.

There are two problems with this premise. The first is the belief that radioactive spiders with a proclivity for biting unsuspecting students are in plentiful abundance. Unless your high school is based somewhere near Chernobyl, they aren’t.

A grown man in lycra with a camera: creepy. Source:

The second – and most critical – issue is that public excretions from any part of your body are frowned upon by society. Wearing a mask and skin-tight costume while you egest will only exacerbate the problem. Had Peter Parker walked around in real life ejaculating an unidentified sticky substance from his wrists, he would have been tasered, incarcerated and put onto a myriad of lists and registers before he got five feet off the ground.

So, Stan Lee, screw you. Your tales of deceit have not aided my quest to find horny superhero groupies who find grown men wearing Batman underpants desirable. Further to this small grievance, I still can’t fly.

What did comics – or other children’s literature – lie to you about?

Author’s note: for the sake of this post, comics have been deemed children’s reading material. Deal with it.

The Caveman Batman? No wonder I’m confused. Source:


Written by disseminatedthought

December 18, 2011 at 15:44