I don't know went on when "subliminal backgrounds" was a new discussion, but what has been intriguing me since last fall was the Fox TV slot from 3:30 to 5:OO:_Tiny Toons_, _Animaniacs_, and _Batman, The Animated Series_. I was turned onto the first one, because I had heard Henry Jenkins say that he used it for his classes as a perfect illustration of Baktin's (sp?) concept of intertextuality. _Looney Tunes_ were always something that everyone has said: yeah, I liked them as a kid, but you found out what they really meant when you grew up (and grew more literate with the history of 30s and 40s Hollywood and its films). _Tiny Toons_, by referring to something that was already laden with references (_Looney Tunes_), induces a kind of pleasureful vertigo because you say to yourself "my god, I don't believe I'm understanding this." American popular entertainment is paradoxically cryptic and a mass entertainment; I know the contours of the toons so well, yet they stike me often in their pure hieroglyphic nature. Without the references it would be colors and animals and violence (but of course, what do I mean by "without the references" that utopian condition?) that have nothing to do with any possible concept of "local" experience of life and language. _Animaniacs_, though, takes the whole intertextual thing further, even further. Animaniacs have existed, so the story goes, since the 30's, but have been locked up in the water tower at Warner Bros. intermittently since, and thus have been unable to become the stars they are. So _Animaniacs_ not only refers to present and past Hollywood film industry constantly, but reweaves its characters into both, fictionally, enforcing upon the viewer their timelessness and power (and hegemonic power over the globe too, one could, darkly, say; either they parody Mickey Mouse, or want to be like Mick, with Yacko, Whacko, and Dot appearing--if not on the WB lot--in the new Europe, the new Soviet Union, and all across the new world order). [The very first episode of _Animaniacs_ began with cartoon versions of Siskell and Ebert reviewing a laser disc(!) of "classic" Warner Bros cartoons. The figures of Elmer, Daffy, Bugs, etc. were on the cover of the disc _and_ another character-- Slappy Squirrel-- who immediately stikes us as odd in this line up. Cut to Slappy watching the tube as Siskell&Ebert wax gooey over the laser compilation. Yet when they get to the performance of Slappy (which we are simultaneously viewing for the first time), they pan it ruthlessly, causing Slappy to blow up the homes of the critics. Anybody have any ideas about this scenario and its relation to the topic, your work as "critics" (although I wouldn't normally use that word with S&Ebert), and works whose meat and potatoes are intextuality (after all aren't these the ones that are called postmodern?)] _Batman_, of course, comes to mind because of the plethora of previous incarnations, but I think once you get to a certain point, those previous incarnations cause a pleasureful decadence; The Animated Series also references Hollywood itself quite abit. Joe Milutis