Here's a precursor to filmmaker John Waters "jumping the shark."

By the time audiences and auteurs settled into the ’80s, America’s look back in affection at the ’50s had begun to show its age. (When Fonzie jumped the shark in an episode of "Happy Days,” his daredevil stunt soon became shorthand for that precise moment in time when a beloved piece of pop culture begins to overstay its welcome). That didn’t stop "Pope of Trash” John Waters from mining the world of downscale greasers for 1990’s "Cry-Baby.” —Scott Stiffler

Our precursor appears in Frederick Upham Adams' The Kidnapped Millionaires: A Tale of Wall Street and the Tropics (1901).

One hundred and thirty-four years before C. S. Lewis published a demonic exchange in The Screwtape Letters, we were invited to listen in on an Infernal Conference or, Dialogues of Devils (1808).

Forty-four years before Doctor Dolittle talked to the animals, we learned that animals say such things as:

• He did it first.
• I wish.
• I don't care.
• Not my fault.
• What is that to you?
• I am as good as you.
• More, more.
• Why not?

Additionally:

(The Man's Boot and Other Tales; or Fabulous Truths in Words of One Syllable by Gertrude Sellon, 1876.)

Forty-four years before children found a doorway to a magical world within a cabinet (C. S. Lewis's The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe, 1950), children found a doorway to a magical world within a cupboard (Mrs. Molesworth's The Bolted Door, 1906).

Though the famed comedian/juggler/alcoholic W. C. Fields made his Broadway debut in 1906 at the age of 26, we're going to register this 1906 image from London's Punch as a precursor to the archetype that later became his signature.  The caption reads: "Thoughts for non-thinkers.  Be sure you raise no more spirits than you can conjure down."

One hundred and eighteen years before Twitter, the immature gathered out of doors to exchange "five minutes' stories."  (The illustration is from Five Minutes' Stories by Mrs. Molesworth, 1888.)

Eighty-two years before Coldplay proclaimed, "It was all yellow," everything was turning yellow in The Panama Plot by Arthur Benjamin Reeve (1918).

Here's a precursor to the self-referential prose fictions of postmodernism: "The Story of a Story" by Helen W. Pierson, from Frank Leslie's Sunday Magazine, 1884.

This precursor to the great Charles Fort (complete with a shower of frogs) appears in Punch, 1867.

Here's the opening piano solo from the film The Exorcist (1973) being played back in 1877 (London Society magazine).  Totally tubular!

A century before our minimalist coloring book, Alphonse Allais painted a white rectangle entitled First Communion of Anemic Young Girls in a Snowstorm.

(Thanks, Futility Closet.)

We discovered this precursor to Terry Gilliam's dystopian satire Brazil in Punch, 1872.  Those are encroaching ducts, don't you know.

Over a century before Motown "heard it through the grapevine," climbing and trailing plants of the vine family actually kept secrets instead of spreading them.  The caption of this illustration makes it all clear: "Dear ivy, keep my secret safe; / Like him, you cannot guess / That life and love are centered here, / Where I have written—Yes!" (London Society, 1877).

134 years before the fad of collecting Facebook "friends," ladies wore their followers in fashionable lockets.  From London Society, 1870.

"'THIS is the BEETLE, with her thread and needle' suggests a kind of domesticated Gregor Samsa, but it well precedes Kafka."

Thanks to Encyclopedia Virgina for this precursor by Richard Wynn Keene (a.k.a. Dykwynkyn) for a Cock Robin pantomime character, c. 1860.

Here's a precursor to the spooky wallpaper in Disneyland's Haunted Mansion, from a 1904 issue of Good Housekeeping magazine.  This illustration prefigures the work of M.C. Escher by about three decades.