I’m not all that familiar with Dungeons & Dragons, but the Catoblepas has apparently been in monster manuals from very early on, with the in-game description adding a serpent-like neck and tail to the descriptions of Pliny and his near-contemporaries.

And while the classic Catoblepas is a herbivore, the D&D creature is said to occasionally hunt for meat. It might be the appearance in this game that led to the Catoblepas appearing in several Final Fantasy games as well. In FF4, it’s portrayed as a horned lizard that can turn someone to stone. FF5 hews closer to the traditional description, with the heavy head.

This is the first game in which the Catoblepas serves as a summoned monster, which is also the case in FF6. In order to save space, the original English translation of the latter game referred to the creature as Shoat, which is actually a word for a very young piglet. Since the Catoblepas is said to have the head of a boar, this makes a certain amount of sense, but not all that much.

In John R. Neill’s Oz books, the colors are taken to more of an extreme. In Wonder City, the Quadling Country is described as having “fields of red corn, red carrots, red cucumbers…red cows, red rivers, and red haystacks,” and the Winkie Country “yellow plums” as well as “yellow grapes, watermelons, and blackberries.” In addition, the residents of the countries have skins matching their surroundings. While some of this might have been added in by the editor, Scalawagons also refers to Number Nine as “a bright blue-faced boy,” and to babies crying in their national colors. Ozma also tells the Bell-Snickle that blue Munchkin grass had blown into the Quadling Country. In Runaway, we’re told that “[a]ll Munchkin fruit is slightly blue in color,” yet the sour quinces that grew in that country are yellow.

The implication does seem to be that a lot of the color-coding is done by choice on the part of the inhabitants, but such is not always the case. David Hulan’s Eureka introduces the tixies, tiny animals that change things near them to their own colors. It’s a red tixie that makes the previously white Eureka permanently pink. I should also mention that Sky Island uses the color-coding idea in its Blue and Pink Countries, but here EVERYTHING is that color.

Speaking of religion, there’s some speculation that Jesus might have been influenced by the Cynics. After all, he was preaching a simple life, detachment from society, and distrust of institutions. It’s not improbable that he could have been exposed to Greek philosophy, although perhaps not totally necessary either. While Jesus might have been a Cynic, however, he was not a skeptic. He expected people to believe what he said based solely on faith, which unfortunately calls to mind modern people who are totally distrustful of some institutions (say, the government), but completely on board with others (say, the church). This partial cynicism seems to fuel a lot of modern humbug. You can’t trust the FDA or the scientific community, but you can trust whatever snake oil I’m pedaling! The skeptic, of course, would generally reject such claims, because they aren’t based in reason. In fact, it seems like the emphasis on reason is the main difference between cynicism and skepticism, although I’m sure a lot of people hold to both.

Later Baum Oz books occasionally mention such trees, and Ruth Plumly Thompson brings in even more. She even exports the phenomenon to Ix, with its Box Wood in Silver Princess.

Indeed, while never actually stated in the canon, it’s a popular theory among fans that pretty much all meat in Oz grows on trees, so that the morality of cooking talking animals can be avoided. So where do all these trees come from? Some of them seem to just grow wild, while others are cultivated, but we’re never actually told how, say, a clock tree is grown. Would planting a clock or part of a clock be enough, or is there more to it than that? I’m reminded of the just-created Narnia in The Magician’s Nephew, where an iron bar grows into a lamppost and coins into metal trees.

In Cowardly Lion, the characters come across a Travelers’ Tree, on which covered dishes, cups, and pots of hot drinks grow. A sign indicates that the tree was planted by the Wizard Wam, who would later resurface as the creator of the wishing necklaces in Wishing Horse. Another sign tells those eating from the tree to plant their dishes after finishing. In Henry Blossom’s non-canonical Blue Emperor, Wam accuses the Nome King of stealing the idea of his Travelers’ Trees for the Hotel Trees that bear the three-course nuts. And it might not be too much of a stretch to think he could have planted the lunchbox and dinner pail trees for the royal family of Ev as well. In Melody Grandy’s Seven Blue Mountains trilogy, we meet Wam’s son Zim, a sorcerer and botanist who can grow just about anything on plants.

As for Pocahontas herself, John Smith’s writings indicate that she was about ten when they first met. The film never states her age, but she’s obviously older than that, and is shown as falling in love with Smith. Her personality is similar to that of other Disney Princesses, in that she’s headstrong and wants something different from what she’s accustomed to, and of course sings a lot. The story told by Smith, which some historians have doubted, is that she prevented her father from executing him. This does happen in the movie, but in very different circumstances from what likely really happened. Smith is voiced by Mel Gibson, which was probably considered cool at the time the movie came out, but is kind of embarrassing in retrospect. Oh, well. At least he wasn’t telling Pocahontas he’d set her house on fire with her in it. Pocahontas is accompanied by a raccoon named Meeko and a hummingbird named Flit. Neither of them talk, but a tree does. There’s a happy ending with the moral that we should all learn to put our differences aside and respect other cultures, but we all know the worst of the conflicts between European-Americans and natives were yet to come. Historical difficulties aside, the film had some good animation and songs, but plot-wise it just wasn’t one of the stronger Disney features from this era.

In Look Who’s Talking Too, a new baby is added to the mix, this time voiced by Roseanne. Alley and Travolta have some marital difficulties, and the kids experience sibling rivalry. In addition, Alley’s crazy brother, played by Casey Jones from Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles, moves in. Oh, and there’s a cameo by Mel Brooks as a talking toilet. Yes, it’s a dream sequence, but still. The film shows the failure of birth control at the very beginning, although I guess a diaphragm isn’t the most effective method out there. Still, I found it weird that there wasn’t any point when Alley was surprised that she got pregnant when she’d been using protection.

By the time we catch up to the family in Look Who’s Talking Now, the kids are able to talk normally, so they’re no longer the focus of the gimmick. Hey, how come they expressed themselves in more complex thoughts when they were babies than when they got a little older? One of the mysteries of the universe, I suppose. Instead, the vocalized thoughts are those of the two dogs the family ends up with through a weird coincidence, a streetwise mutt voiced by Danny DeVito and a pampered poodle voiced by Diane Keaton. And yes, there’s more than a hint of Lady and the Tramp influence to be found here. The plot is rounded out by Travolta getting a job as personal pilot for a rich lady who wants to get into his pants. While all three films have a rather unrealistic action sequence at the end, this one might be the most ridiculous in that respect, with the dogs both finding Travolta when his boss is trying to seduce him and rescuing the family from a pack of wolves. I found it amusing that Alley made a reference to her role as a Vulcan in Star Trek II, because it totally made sense for her to be part of a species that relies on logic and the stifling of emotion. Then again, Doc Brown was a Klingon in the third one, and Annie Camden from 7th Heaven a marine biologist in the fourth. I’m getting off the track here, aren’t I? So, yeah, the Look Who’s Talking movies were pretty cute. They weren’t great cinema, but I can’t say I have any major complaints about them.