Yup, that’s Dustin Diamond circa the mid-1980s, representing He-Man the way I used to rock my Return of the Jedi speeder bike t-shirt. Notice, if you will, his empty gaze, the awkward guise of repose, the dreamlike quality that comes from the soft focus — it seems to be the image of a youth he never had. It’s as if the role of Screech had doomed him to a life of bad facial hair and bankruptcy before he ever accepted it, a cosmic reverberation through time not unlike the Overlords of Clarke’s Childhood’s End.
Nah, I don’t mean any of that. But I had a long conversation with an art history major last night, and I feel like that’s what he would have said about this. If I hadn’t pushed him into traffic.
(thanks, Pauly) UPDATE: See more of Dustin’s evolution here.
I want more like this!
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