Thunder…thunder…thunder…THUNDERCATS!! HO!!
Words cannot describe how I felt when I saw this…someone, hold me.
It’s been two decades since the last ‘new episode’ of ThunderCats was produced. When I saw the above image, I almost jumped out of my office window. Naked. Sans my Lion-O pyjamas. Again.
The seminal cartoon of ALL 80’s babies returns to our screens. Check the press release below, and for God’s sake, someone hold me!
Preferably, someone who looks like Cheetara. And no, I’m not the only one. Am I Reg?
THUNDERCATS, HO!
WARNER BROS. ANIMATION ANSWERS THE CALL WITH A NEW TAKE ON THE CLASSIC ANIMATED SERIES “THUNDERCATS,” TO AIR ON CARTOON NETWORK
(June 3, 2010 – Burbank, CA) – Warner Bros. Animation (WBA) has begun production on “ThunderCats,” an all-new animated series for Cartoon Network, based upon the iconic 1980s action classic. “ThunderCats” is the newest series from WBA, joining “Batman: The Brave and the Bold,” which was recently renewed for a third season, and the following forthcoming programs: “The Looney Tunes Show,” “MAD,” “Scooby-Doo! Mystery Incorporated” and “Young Justice.” The announcement was made today by Sam Register, Executive Vice President, Creative Affairs, Warner Bros. Animation.
The 21st century reimagining of the series marks a creative collaboration between WBA and Studio4°C, one of the most vibrant animation studios in Japan, with credits including “The Animatrix,” “Gotham Knights” and “Halo Legends.” WBA is working closely with Studio4°C, utilizing the latter’s expertise to give the “ThunderCats” characters a new cutting-edge look while remaining true to the compelling storylines and mythology of the original series.
“We at Studio4°C are excited to be in this creative partnership with Warner Bros. Animation to bring ‘ThunderCats’ to life,” said Eiko Tanaka, President and CEO, Studio4°C. “This collaboration combines the strengths of our two companies – high production values and great storytelling – toward reintroducing this classic fan-favorite to a new audience.”
Roaring to life through WBA and Studio4°C’s use of the Japanese animated artistry of anime, “ThunderCats” characters Lion-O, Mumm-Ra, Panthro, Cheetara and others will spring off the screen with realistic cat-like characteristics inconceivable in previous incarnations.
The new “ThunderCats” will appeal to viewers who have loved the characters all their lives as well as young newcomers to the franchise. A sweeping tale combining swords and science and boasting ferocious battles with the highest of stakes, the grand origin story of Prince Lion-O’s ascension to the throne – and of those who would thwart his destiny at any cost – takes on epic dimensions in this sharp new telling. As the forces of good and evil battle each other in the quest for the fabled Stones of Power, Lion-O and his champions learn valuable lessons of loyalty, honor and mortality in every episode.
“ThunderCats” is executive produced by Sam Register (“Teen Titans,” “Ben 10,” “Batman: The Brave and the Bold”). Michael Jelenic (“Batman: The Brave and the Bold,” “Wonder Woman”) and Ethan Spaulding (“Avatar: The Last Airbender”) are the producers.
MAD LOVE TO ATCN FAMILY SOULCULTURE FOR THE UPDATE
R. Kelly to sing the ‘official song’ of the 2010 FIFA World Cup. No. Really.
Good grief.
When I got the email, I could scarcely believe my eyes.
If you’ve forgotten what Kells looks like, have a butchers below.
The track is called, ‘Sign of a Victory‘. Now, I’ll avoid dredging up the pissed, sorry, past indescretions about The Pied Piper, but believe me, urine for a treat.
It’s a rousing melody sprinkled with inspirational quotes and the big man is backed by Soweto Spiritual Singers.
I’m just saying, if I hear the word ’soccer’ just once, I’m killing a kitten.
The Soweto Spiritual Singers commented, “We share our exhilaration in working with R. Kelly on ‘Sign of A Victory.’ It is a testament to the talent and artistry we possess as South African artists that we can stand shoulder to shoulder with our fellow international musicians. Our experience has been overwhelming and we are highly honored to work with R. Kelly.”
The rousing song is an uplifting message of triumph and victory, combining Kelly’s soulful delivery with the Soweto Spiritual singer’s choir. “Sign of a Victory” blends American R&B/Pop with African musical influences and choral chants in Zulu. The anthem is as powerful and poignant as Kelly’s three-time Grammy winning classic song “I Believe I Can Fly.”
Um.
“Sign Of A Victory” will be included on Listen Up! The Official 2010 FIFA World Cup Album set for release on May 31/June 1 by Sony Music. Proceeds from the album will go on to benefit FIFA’s “20 Centers for 2010” initiative, whose aim is to achieve positive social change through football by building twenty Football for Hope centers for public health, education and football across Africa, and other African charities.
That’s all well and good, but ANYONE connected to fooball knows THIS is the BEST FOOTBALL SONG OF ALL TIME!! *Kanye shrug*
Be better,
RTW x
P.S. R.Kelly was unavailable for comment, due to being trapped in a closet.
The Most Interesting Man in the World
Stay thirsty, my friends…
I ♥ London
Pictures by Danny Wood
During my anthropological escapade, the sights I behold, at times, make me stop and stare like a slack jawed yokel. I drink up every drop of Albion’s Londinium and can think of no better place to wear my splendiferous Nike heels down.
Firstly food. No long ting. Stratford Starbucks. Sugar rush. Cinnamon-swirl-and-signature-hot-chocolate. Grow up.
Deux: Funds. The council office. Filled to the brim with people, sweating under the weight of Morrison’s bags and Poundland purchases. I gaze around – savouring the sight of kids pushing their kids in buggies. A boy dressed top-to-toe in dEad Hardy is clutching a loaf of Mother’s Pride under one arm with the other pushed into a lint filled pocket. His faded cap has a broken peak. The security guard strolls through the lobby swinging the biggest bunch of keys I’ve ever seen. I mean, they look like the top of a palm tree. His proud-as-a-peacock stance let’s everyone know just how important he (thinks he) is. I marvel at the African woman walking by with two hands full of goods while she rocks a ‘baby rucksack’. I pay my council tax and exit stage left. The winter sun kisses my bearded cheeks and remind me I left my Wayfarers on the TV. Pissed.
Squinting, I head for the bus station. I meander through the multi – coloured throng. The Olympics soon come and building work on the new Westway is going harder than two day old dog shit. A family of Orthodox Jews pass me. The little boy’s ringlets poke out from under his kippah and I’m momentarily jealous of the serenity in his face, craving the childhood innocence he revels in. On to the next one: Brick Lane. Beyond Retro to be precise. I touch in with my Oyster on the migrant microcosm mobile that is the 25 bus.
No matter where you get on, no matter what time – there’s always a piss-soaked, drunk man. Always. The repetition I crave is being addressed. Also, I believe someone on here enjoyed a shit-shake and large onion rings before they got on. How lovely. The blonde man wearing the Burberry parka, stone-washed jeans and truly awful Nike Cortez shifts from foot to foot. I wonder where he’s going while I let my eyes wander. Mr Very Bad Toupè meets my gaze. I smile broadly and he looks away nervously. The ‘Cutest Little Girl In The World’ stares straight at me for what seems like a full eight minutes. Blink free. Her eyes are huge. Can’t stare back. Prison grey isn’t my colour and I’m too pretty. I love/hate this bus. The lady in the leather look gillet knits intently. Her tongue poking out, up and left of her mouth. She’s focussed man. Hopping off the bus outside the Royal London Hospital, I bop down Vallance Road. My big nose feels the full force of the car farts I’m immersed in. I flip a nonsensical but necessary Marlboro Light into my mouth and give it life. I puff-puff-puff my way to Cheshire Street’s treasure trove. The far too excited Aussie manager greets me like an old friend. She only wants me for my money. It’s a situation we’re both cool with. She shows me the cowigans just in.
I stick the biggest and sickest one I can find into the yellow bag, pay the bish and bounce. My belly tells me it’s bagel time. I fux with a turkey and cheese creation while window shopping. The sexy ass leathers call out to me but my pocket cock-blocks their advances. I pop my head into Rokit but their sizes are just silly. No XXLs in sight. I make like a tree and leave. Brick Lane is littered with faux Russel Brands – boys (and girls) with big hair and jeans that look painted on. Sad times when in such a creative hub, it seems originality is deader than a dozen dodos. At the end of Osborne Street I buss a left and dip into Starbucks. Again.
The bagel has soaked up all the Remy in my system so green tea is the next purchase. Along with another swirl. I have a sweet tooth. My poor pancreas.
From rancid buses and vintage stores to sucking at America’s caffeine-soaked green teat and Olympic sized tasks, this city – my beautiful bitch – gets it in. Who needs the green, green grass of home when you live in the Big Smoke?
