Sunday, March 29, 2009

No More Jungle Gym?

Let The Wrong Subtitles in to LET THE RIGHT ONE IN.

It really cheeses me off that I missed out on the original subtitles to this movie when it ran in theaters (which it did here for only one weekend, when I was out of town), which according to the screen caps posted in this link, really created a much more nuanced and textured experience than the dumbed down version for the DVD.

Even stranger, the English dubbed version gets the original dialogue right. Eli mentions living "Here, in the jungle gym" in the brief English version that I watched, where she just says "I live here." in the subtitled version. But I couldn't bear the subbed version for very long, since the dubbing sounded pretty distractingly dreadful. Grrr. I hate it when they pull shit like this.Funny, though. I still really enjoyed the movie, and like it more and more as the days pass. I just wish I could have loved it the way its original fans had the chance to, with its original textured dialogue intact.

Original subtitles for the Morse Code scene:

Dumbed down subtitles for the DVD:

Um... whuhh?
I hear that the screener copies have the original subtitles on them. I wonder how I can get my mitts on one.
There's also talk about rereleasing the DVD with the proper titles, though doubtful that anybody will get a refund for the copy they already bought. Whew. Thank Yod for Netflix.

Saturday, March 28, 2009

Give The People Want They Want

Last night a man approached me with one of our 40% off coupons and asked me if he could use it on our used copy of The Abominable Showman by Nick Lowe, priced at $49.99. I smiled and said yes, and he smiled back and said thank you. Makes a difference, doesn't it? Especially when it's something rare and good. Well, depending on whether or not you think The Abominable Showman is any good, out of print or not.

Taking advance of our two-used-for-one sale, and having to empty my hold bin before inventory tomorrow night, I took home a few used things I've been storing away for when I got my tax money back (it goes to fixing you CAR, Melissa.. your CAR!)

Some how this CD from Toronto-based drummer and bassist/synthman Death From Above 1979 floats around our store like some kind of cult with only the same few people in the know... and although Randy played the fantastic dance remix of this album in his car while we were driving around in Austin with him last month, we only had the original version here, 2004's You're A Woman, I'm A Machine so I decided to take it home with me. Randy said it was okay and he was right, it's... okay. Two guys (now split up) making as much dance-punk noise as they can together with the mere rhythm section that they are, I get the feeling that I've heard this kind of thing before, and probably have. Not to say that it isn't bad or anything. And not like everything musically isn't derivative of everything else out there these days as it is. It really hits home how much I have heard in my lifetime to get to this point. It's just that this sounds a lot like what I used to enjoy ten years ago, and I already kind of burned myself out on that right before I segued into my jazz phase in the early 2000's. Good grooves, though.

And in keeping with my recent theme of having The Dictators popping up into my life at odd intervals during the last six months, I couldn't resist snagging their first 1975 album Go Girl Crazy! when that DJ dude selling back mass amounts dropped this off at our shoddy doorstep. Not that any of this is a bad thing, mind you. This New York City-based band was punk before there was punk, and had fun with their chosen favorite subjects, namely junk food, fast cars, professional wrestling (these guys were BIG rasslin' fans, as evidenced by the album cover, and from the inside of Handsome Dick Manitoba's pub in Manhattan). Makes me wish I was listening to this kind of music in 1975, when it was more likely my parents' 8-track version of Neil Diamond's Hot August Night. Not that that is a bad thing, either.

Oh, and one television show, which I had intended to buy when it first came out but balked when I realized that I probably would never watch it again. But when Joe convinced me that he could probably watch it with me (sure, like your childhood crush on Tracy Nelson has nothing to do with it!) I took the plunge and purchased this:

Square Pegs was the short-lived 1982 sitcom that starred Sarah Jessica Parker and Amy Linker as two social outcasts struggling for popularity at the oh-so embarrassingly 1982-looking Weemawee High School. And the thing is, the show looks like somebody trying to do a ridiculous parody of a 1980's sitcom, when really it was reflecting the current trends and fashions and music of its time. Tracy Nelson's valley girl accent was only turning slightly brown around the edges from being stale a mere few months in pop culture vernacular. And there was nowhere else on television at the time where I could see Devo appearing on a prime time television show other than Solid Gold. Not to mention The Waitresses doing the show's theme song. So yeah, I was all up in this shit back in 1982, which to me was the closest to what that time era reflected in my life the way Freaks And Geeks did 18 years later. Only difference is that I kind of can't remember Square Pegs being all that funny, or... good. But I may be wrong! I have been before. Plus I'm feeling nostalgic for the early 80's for some reason today (see previous post). And nostalgia always colors things in a brighter hue, no matter how drab they might have really been. Woot for nostalgia and brighter hues!!

I'm Frame-Dragging Again

It's not often when a little girl's first love still loves with her as an adult. Especially in a box next to her bed. It took me years to find him. And then suddenly, as soon as I gave up, he came and found me.

My first love was a comic book character. Big surprise, huh?

When I was a kid my father traveled a lot, and he always picked up random comic books and graphic novels in various airports to read on the plane. Many of which had a sci-fi/fantasy theme, like Conan The Barbarian and Bloodstar (my favorite), but a majority of what he bought were of a rather adult nature, like Heavy Metal magazine (which in the 70's were a lot raunchier than they are today) and I think I remember another one called... Space 1990? I can't find any evidence of it existing online, and I probably have the title wrong anyway, but it had a race of women with two sets of breasts -- all traipsing about topless, of course. But although my father often gave me the issues to read after he was through with them, my mother would pitch a fit. So most Friday nights when my best friend Sheryl's family would come over to visit, after our pizza Sheryl and I would wait for our parents to sit down to their "adult" dinner of steak and wine, laughing and drinking for hours in the dining room, before she and I would slip off to my parents' room, lock the door, and root through my father's clothes cabinet where I knew he hid his comics from my mother, and we'd have a secret evening of "adult" reading sessions of our own.

My comic book love didn't grab me at first glance. That one fateful early autumn Friday night in 1981, I flipped through his book, looking specifically for nudity, and not really finding much, tossed it aside for something else. Then some time later I noticed Sheryl actually reading the book I cast aside, and laughing, and saying "There's no dirty pictures, but this stuff is hilarious!" She read that thing from beginning to end before she finally handed it back over to me, and I sat and read it myself. Not even the whole book at first. And I was laughing. I was roaring. And although I didn't know it at the time, I was hooked.

Soon I started sneaking it out of the cabinet every night. Then every day. Then I started hiding it under my bed, and when I became fearful of my mom finding it, I brought it along to school in my backpack. I showed it to all of my friends, who all thought it was hysterical, even those that weren't fans of fantasy theme comics. My friend Jeanne used to draw the main character on the backs of her notebooks and all over my yearbooks. My brother started quoting from it constantly (and still does to this day). And I started dreaming about that lead character from the comic almost nightly. I became seized with an emotion I had never experienced before. I stopped eating for weeks, nearly to the point of anorexia. I couldn't concentrate on anything else. After years of drawing nothing but animals, I began drawing my first human figures, mimicking the style of my obsession, but never actually drawing him myself. I couldn't even say his name aloud. Every night I would just leave the comic open on top of my desk in my bedroom, listening to The Kinks, and tracing my hand over the image of his face, over and over again.

Distraught that the love of my life was nothing more than an image on a piece of paper, I did all the things that your typical melodramatic thirteen-year-old would do. Sitting on the floor of my bedroom cutting my fingers and writing "I LOVE U" with blood in my diary while weeping to Benny Mardones on the radio. My mother probably sensed my distress, and I could tell that nothing would have given her greater pleasure than to see that comic book go up in flames in the living room fireplace. But instead of burning it to cinders, I suppose the next best thing happened: My comic book mysteriously... disappeared.

My mother swears she didn't throw it out. But how else could it have just vanished? Especially since I had taken to hiding it from her in a similar-sized magazine I had about alligators in my book shelf? I was devastated. Like Christopher Reeve in Somewhere In Time, I'd lie on my bed, willing myself to enter into his comic book world, especially now that I had nothing left of him to even prove that he once existed. I began to think that he could see me. I began to talk and act as if he were always nearby, listening in or watching. I refused to say his name, even becoming afraid of undressing for bath or bed. Some years later, when I told this to my psychiatrist, she told me "He's a figment of your imagination, so if you want him to see you, then he will." Perhaps she told me this to help me regain control of the situation and make me realize that he couldn't see me if I didn't want him to see me. But instead, it only confirmed that he could see me. And more importantly, that I wanted him to see me. He followed me through the hallways in high school, and I would hold the occasional conversations with him in private. Although my plan after graduation was to take a year off and go travel the country to track down that comic book at various comic book stores and conventions, my mother would obviously not hear of it. I went straight on to college, naturally.

There wasn't a week that went by when I wouldn't drop by Zeno's or Trilogy, digging through boxes of back issues, wondering if today would be the day I found him again. I couldn't straight-up ask about it, since I couldn't say his name aloud. Instead I looked for his likeness in other comics. Books. People I meet. The few men in my life that I found attractive carried some aspect of my comic book character in some way, and I would pursue that man like that twelve-year-old girl again, desperately chasing the pages of the comic book as they fluttered away in a gust of wind.

It was around 1993 or so when I sat down with myself, alone on my mattress in my old apartment in downtown Ghent, and decided that it was time to let him go. I was twenty-four years old, in a happy relationship, and applying those drawing skills I honed all those years ago to creative use. It was likely that I would never find that comic book again, and it was time to be "okay" with that. It was time to say goodbye to things that would never be. I took a deep breath. A moment of meditation. And it was over. And I was free. And I smiled.

And that's when it happened. The very same week I stopped finally looking for him, he came looking for me.

Every Wednesday at Trilogy, as usual. Flipping through the box of newly arrived back issues, like a reflex. And I felt it in my hands. I saw the familiar cover. The title font forever etched in my brain since I was just barely in my teens. I pulled it from the box and ran my eyes over it, trembling slightly.

My first love was back. The moment I gave up on him, only then does he finally decide to reveal himself to me. As if he were afraid of losing me. As if to shout "Ollie-ollie ox in free... I'm here, I'M HERE, OKAY??!" Only this time with a $15.00 collector's price tag covering the three dollars etched on the front at part of the original cover art.

To this day my first love lives in a comic box next to my bed, tucked against an acid-free backer board in a clear baggie, flattened between my old issues of Reflex and Maximumrocknroll. I rarely pull it out, or touch it, and I haven't flipped through it in several years. I feel at peace with having the comic near me now. I no longer obsess over him, no longer dwell upon him daily -- though I do still have the occasional dream about him, though only in comic book form. And I still can't bring myself to type or say his name in any manner whatsoever.

But this afternoon, I felt compelled to take my first love out of his box, and while still taped up in his baggie, just hold him gently against my chest while I surf the web for awhile. It's funny how he exists all over the internet, with fan communities and everything. If there had been the internet when I was a kid, would I have gone through all that nuttiness in my head, feeling isolated and alone, with no hope of ever finding him again?

I feel weirdly at peace right now.

Friday, March 27, 2009

The World Is Going Wrong

First 20 tracks on my iTunes wondering why it keeps looking more and more like spring outside but doesn't feel anywhere remotely close to spring outside.
1. "You're A Million" - The Raincoats
2. "Funk #49" - James Gang
3. "Madame Butterfly Humming Chorus" - Giacomo Puccini
4. "There's A Ghost In My House" - The Fall
5. "Passage Of Time" - Trevor Jones
6. "I Wanna Be Your Lover" - Prince
7. "That's The Way I Like It" - KC & The Sunshine Band
8. "B-A-B-Y" - Carla Thomas
9. "Little Sister" - Ry Cooder
10. "Sayin' It And Doin' It" - SugaSwing Session
11. "I Have A Ghost, What Now?" - Jaga Jazzist
12. "Loose!" - Prince
13. "Blowin' My Mind" - Solo
14. "Peter Gunn" - Duane Eddy
15. "9MM Solution" - Candiria
16. "Til We Get There" - K'naan
17. "Donna" - The Art Of Noise
18. "U48" - Toxocara
19. "There'll Never Be" - Switch
20. "Cicatriz E.S.P." - The Mars Volta


Sun 29: 7-INV
Mon 30: 5-cl
Thur 2: 5-cl
Fri 3: 5-cl
Sat 4: 9-5

Thursday, March 26, 2009

Another Reason Why We Are Getting Digital Cable

ITEM!: Prince is gonna be on Jay Leno the next two nights. He did a song last night off the first disk LotusFlow3r from his new 3-CD album(available soon only at Target) and will do a song off the second disk MPLSound tonight. Friday I don't know what to expect, because the third disk is a debut album called Elixer by Bria Valente, produced by Prince. So maybe Prince will play with Bria Valente? Anyway, woot! Check it, suckas.

In The Belly Of The Bitch

Nervous about my colonoscopy next week. I mean I realize it's routine, and both my parents have had them recently. I just ugh... really want it over with already. I want this whole issue with my stomach or colon or whatever the hell is killing me to be resolved in some fashion. The truly scary thing is, I fear, that it never will be resolved. That this probably will be my life, and time to suck it up from here on out. My mother has chronic, permanent cystitis. And although she's done everything the doctors know what to do for such a condition, and they keep telling her vaguely encouraging things, ultimately there is nothing they can do for her. That's my biggest worry. That I'm pretty much stuck with it.

The good news is that I haven't had any chronic attacks in several days. I went for awhile with no attacks, like four or even five days, and then one day I decided to risk some fruit for breakfast. Last time I ate papaya it tore me in half. I had two small papayas for breakfast, and I guess I felt alright, But still being a little hungry, about three hours later I heated up a bowl of Annie's Chun's miso soup, which I have had several times before... and my stomach instantly started to kick in. So it makes me wonder, maybe it's not one thing that hurts my stomach, but a certain combination of things. A few days later I ate six roasted brussel sprouts from The Heritage, and then a few minutes later grabbed a cup of espresso, and that beat me the hell up too. Naturally not a good combination no matter what the circumstances. But when I drink coffee with my brunch group every now and then I'm always perfectly okeydoke. Maybe it's the Starbucks crap. Maybe it was espresso. Maybe it was the combination of vegetables and espresso. That's just it. I just don't know. And the HyoMax that I've been taking four times a day only seems to make me sleepy. I really don't think it's helping, to be honest. But I take it every day, like some kind of psychosomatic panacea, because I feel like I need to cling to... something.

What I do know is that my fear of healthy food hurting me has caused me to eat nothing but garbage, aaaand to gain pretty much all the weight back that I lost. It's really so, so hard for me to get back into that zone once I'm out of it, and it's pretty darn crushing. And at this point I don't even know what I can do to improve things until I know what's wrong with me. I just hate being trapped in this body another second. Having been healthy once, and now not... Jesus, I have absolutely no room to say something like this, but it's like having suddenly lost the use of your limbs. And that sounds so self-centered, doesn't it? Especially since I have a friend who actually did lose the use of his legs in a car accident and he goes through life without complaint. And I'm sure if he could have any wish in the world he could have the ability to walk again. And I have the ability. I even have the ability to improve the way I walk. I have no room to complain, no matter how subjective our situations tend to be.

Must get ready for another follow-up with the doctor. Christ, I'll have to keep my eyes closed when I step on the scale.

Wednesday, March 25, 2009

Do What The Man Says

Audio Junk: Statutory Grape 3/24/09 is up and ready for your downloading enjoyment. Featuring “Journey To The End of Night” - Elria Canral/“Sol Walk” – Whitfield Brothers/“Tonight I’m Gonna Go Downtown” - Jimmie Dale Gilmore/“Do Lord Remember Me” - Little Richard/“Censorship is Just a SMOKESCREEN” - Consolidated “Yellow” - Ken Nordine/“If I Was Your Girlfriend” - Prince/“Art is Hard” - Cursive/“The Trip” - Kim Fowley/“Clockwork” - Roots Manuva/“Hard to Find” - El Da Sensei/“It’s Alright” - Cadillac Tramps“/Barbie Gir"l(German version-I think) - Aqua and more, from the chop shop of sound Audio Junk presented by Stoopid Kar Productions, by DJ JOE INC the world's worst mixing DJ - every Tuesday @ 8 pm EST on

Tuesday, March 24, 2009

And The Hits Keep Comin'...

The guy with all the rare CDs hasn't been in our store in a record two days straight. Which I guess leads me to believe that he ran out of CDs to sell, perhaps -- although he did hint at several rooms full of DVDs that he wanted to get rid of (holy moley...). But it's still a trip seeing not only what comes in, and what once was, but what our company is pricing for it. Any body remember these?

Quite a lot of Richard Thompson solo albums, two or three of which are being sold around this price or more. But I've never been a huge Richard Thompson follower, although I do like some Fairport Convention (which we also received, some of which is slightly less pricey than the Thompson solo work).

And I love me some Damned albums! I actually might have this one myself, but I lost track of my Damned shit some time I guess in the early 90's when I bought a vinyl copy of The Light At The End Of The Tunnel, a greatest hits package of British singles that I don't think is in print anymore or perhaps only an import these days. I guess the price on this one is hardly a surprise anymore, since all of the Damned discography have been rereleased with extra tracks that make them retail for close to this number. But this is an origina-tah... probably the first time it ever came out on CD. And I'd buy it too! If, again, I probably didn't already have it somewhere.

But I gotta admit it's crackin' me up that a solo album by Walter Egan is going for so much these days! I'm sure he'd be tickled pink to know that. Of course it is the album with his best known 1978 hit single "Magnet And Steel" on it, so I guess I can understand the original album nostalgia appeal.

But now here is what gets my personal nostalgia caboose... Mojo Nixon & Skid Roper CDs going for lofty out-of-print prices! Man, these guys bring back memories. I first saw him do bumper segments on MTV back in the 80's, the irony being that he was probably invited to do so after his single "Stuffin' Martha's Muffin" -- a love song to then-MTV VJ Martha Quinn who told him that his music was too "nasty" to play on her channel -- got a lot of underground recognition to some degree. It was certainly the first song I had ever heard from him when I was in my freshman year of college back in 1987, when I first met Joe and he made me a mix tape with that on there. My friend Rachel used to see Mojo Nixon playing on the street corners of Hollywood Boulevard when she would visit L.A. And here he is, out of print, and hardly anybody remembers him anymore. But damn, you have no idea how tempted I am. I actually don't know if I own any of their albums on CD. Christ! Now I'm freaking out! I can't let these get away from me, can I? Well, according to my budget... er, it's either this or the used Square Pegs DVD that just came in. Gahhhh...

Forget your Cyndi Laupers and your Duran Durans. Few things said "The 80's" to me like Mojo Nixon and Skid Roper songs (well, except for maybe Square Pegs). Here's a video to their early classic "Burn Down The Malls", kind of an anthem for myself and my college buddies at the time. Who knew, right?

Monday, March 23, 2009

Been Thinking About This Movie All Night...

And now I want the book.

Sunday, March 22, 2009


Mon 23: 5-cl
Tue 24: 10-2:30
Wed 25: 5-cl
Thur 26: 5-cl
Fri 27: 5-cl

Friday, March 20, 2009

You Oughta Be In Pictures

It all started with The Bad Bunch. But then again, really it didn't.

The totally bizarre, B-grade brilliance of director/actor Greydon Clark came into my life when Joe and I found the VHS copy to this 1976 blacksexsploitation film in the previously viewed sale dump bin at Blockbuster Video about fifteen years ago, not having a clue what either of us were getting into at the time. The story about a white Vietnam vet (directed and played by Clark) who returns Los Angeles' Watts neighborhood to deliver a letter to the father of his fallen black comrade in war, he gets more than he bargained for when confronted by his old friend's militant brother, racist cops, vacant strippers with weird boobs, egalitarian nude pool parties, and fashions not seen since the likes of Mr. Furley on Three's Company. The acting, the dialogue, the um, editing choices, I still don't think I have laughed so hard during a movie the way I did during my first viewing of The Bad Bunch -- unless you count the second viewing. And the third. And, and... Deezus Deist there's no describing this picture. But it did change my life. Because from that moment on, I would be forever haunted by the ever-hovering spectre of uber-auteur Greydon Clark.

A short clip from The Bad Bunch, where Jim (Clark) is chased down and beaten up by his old solider buddy's brother and associates, until the cops (featuring Aldo Ray) sportin' roscoes and ridiculously wide neckties. One of my favorite lines from the movie is in this scene. Just try and guess which one that is. :)

Joe and I would show this movie to anyone who came over to hang out, from old friends to various bands sleeping over while on tour, and very few came away without a lasting impression. But it was the evening when our old friend Randy was visiting when, after watching the picture, Randy remarked "I wonder what other movies this Greydon Clark guy has done?" At that very moment Randy looked down at the video tape that he was holding at that moment, while rooting through my shelf of old VHS tapes that I owned, and this is what he saw:

Skinheads... written and directed by GREYDON CLARK! Joe and I had bought this movie years ago and left it on the shelf for ages, never getting around to watching it. Naturally, it had to be watched, and watched now. And oh, what a show. Another exploitation barn burner starring Chuck Connors and Barbara Bain, with lots of thunderous overacting and pistol-play. I had no idea I owned another Greydon Clark film other than The Bad Bunch. Who knew it would be Skinheads, the cover of which had been starring back at me from the shelf in my bedroom for years gone by?

A showdown scene with Connors and the skins, with another great Greydon line at the end, punctuated by an unexplainable head-butt. Priceless!

Now I may be remembering this wrong, seeing how it was fifteen years ago, but I think it mentioned somewhere on the back of the Skinheads box that Greydon Clark was also the director of a horror film called The Uninvited. Joe and I looked at each other with eyes a-poppin'. We both dove for the video shelf, and pulled this out together:
Sometime back in the 80's Joe and I saw an episode of Late Nite with David Letterman when a young Tom Hanks described his first ever film, a horror movie that I think was called He Knows You're Alone. Yet for some reason Joe thought he had said the name of the movie was called The Uninvited, and it sounded hilarious, so when we came across this VHS copy of The Uninvited with its gruesome demon cat cover we had to snap it up, even though, like Skinheads, it lingered on the shelf for years without either of us ever getting the chance to pop it in and watch it (we had a lot of those laying around the house at the time). Discovering that it was actually another Greydon Clark picture we inadvertently owned (Clark even had a fleeting scene as one of the scientists who created the mutant cat) sent us into whoops of gleeful joy. George Kennedy stars with a killer tabby cat who makes its way onto a yacht and tears out the throat (or foot!) of every human on board.

Check out George's greatest acting moment in the lengthy history of his illustrious career. "The.... CAT! Th-the... CAT!"

It wasn't much longer than that night with Randy and Joe when I received a call in the middle of the night from my friend S., who rarely calls me in the middle of the night unless it's of extreme importance. And apparently, it was. Barely unable to talk from the laughter, she explained that she had just been watching this insanely bizarre sci-fi movie running on late-night cable and she couldn't believe what she was seeing, but had to stick it out until the end. As the ending credits started to roll, the first thing that popped up on the screen were the words "DIRECTED BY GREYDON CLARK" and she literally howled and started dailing my number. Whutta pal, whutta pal...
Finally getting a copy of my own, I was utterly, and yet delightedly, unable to believe what my eyes were seeing. A 21st century world where humans live underground and serve as hookers and slaves to the cyborgs who control them, Dark Future is exactly one of those pictures you see come on cable in the wee hours of the morning and wonder what was in those peyote buttons you had sprinkled on your salad for dinner that night. No sign of Greydon in this picture, but it has been awhile so I may be forgetting. I think I remember finding myself oddly attracted to the lead cyborg dude way back then. See what you have wrought, Greydon?

I'm not even gonna set this up. Just... enjoy.

It was sometime even later than that when Joe and I purposely set out to search for the next Greyson Clark film, because its influence reaches even further back than any of his films that I had seen up to this point.
Maybe others who are older might remember this more vividly, but around 1990 or so, there was a bit of a lambada dance craze sweeping pop culture, and I was working at Music Man in Military Circle Mall at the time when the song from a movie known as The Forbidden Dance was at the top of the charts. It was several years later, after discovering the greatness that is Greydon Clark, that it was he who directed the picture that brought that into the mainstream. Was this perhaps Clark's most financially successful film? I would love to ask him someday. But the movie, about a beautiful Amazonian princess who comes to Los Angeles hoping to win a televised dance contest so that she could bring attention to the plight of the Amazon rain forests (okaaay...) the film for me at least is greatly enhanced by featuring Kid Creole & the Coconuts, who I think did "My Male Curiosity" during one of the many dance numbers. At least it was something other than the movie's hit song repeated throughout the picture.

Did people ever actually dress like this? I take back everything I just said about the fashions in The Bad Bunch.

So over the years Greydon Clark movies have snuck up on me, and it was always a sort of sneaking up, especially when it was something I had already seen back when it came out... like Joysticks, which my brother and I saw when it was first released for rent because it was back during the arcade video game craze, but seeing as it was 1983 it was just another teen sex comedy along the Porky's line (and starring Joe Don Baker!) and it almost hurt our eyes just to watch it. Then again it's not like the trailer would make anyone think otherwise. But YES! Directed by Greydon Clark! Though the dialogue is not his fault. But still, this technically makes this the first Greydon Clark movie I had ever seen, even though I hadn't paid any attention to who had directed it all those years ago. When it comes to these kinds of comedies, I imagine people seldom do.

Since then I've seen several other Greydon Clark films, especially the ones that appeared on Mystery Science Theatre 3000 during the length of its latter-day run, like Angels' Revenge and Final Justice. But Joe and I were particularly pleased when just two or so years ago they issued a DVD release of the very first directorial debut from Greydon Clark...

Black Shampoo! No, not the movie starring Warren Beatty, although an obvious blacksploitation picture of a similar nature. and as the movie trailer informs us, this stud is no dud. A handsome, two-fisted hair stylist who bangs every broad he blow-dries, and features lots of Greydon Clark's signature jumping-over-the camera crotch-shots, as well as the most disturbing anal rape with a hot curling iron ever presented on film. Written and directed by the master. Now Joe and I are actually seeking out Greydon Clark films on our own! See what a whole heck of a lot of subliminal suggestion works when you find your way into the mainstream without a lot of fanfare?

Thank you, Mr. Clark, for the wonderful clips from your youtube site. And your magnificent movies. And for The Bad Bunch, the movie that started it all.

But then again, really it didn't.

Thursday, March 19, 2009

A Mad-Brain Rudesby

First 20 tracks on my iTunes this morning bummed that I'm missing Jack Stehlin starring in The Taming Of The Shrew with the Circus Theatricals this month.
1. "Ya Fama" - Toumani Diabate's Symmetric Orchestra
2. "My Name Is Prince" - Prince
3. "Marquee Moon" - Television
4. "Ready-Mades" - Bonzo Dog Doo-Dah Band
5. "Babuji Dheere Chalna" - Geeta Dutt
6. "One Chord Wonders" - The Adverts
7. "The Beast Within" - Be Your Own Pet
8. "Century 21" - The Deviators
9. "A Person Isn't Safe Anywhere These Days" - The Chameleons
10. "The Booker Tease" - The Residents
11. "Dreams On Fire" - A.R. Rahman Feat. Suzanne D'Mello
12. "Raw" - Big Daddy Kane
13. "Alright, Okay, You Win" - Count Basie & Joe Williams
14. "What You Are" - Drill
15. "The Lure Of The South" - Mamie Smith's Jazz Hounds
16. "He Thought Of Cars" - Blur
17. "Dirt" - Death In Vegas
18. "Stricktly Business" - EPMD
19. "Yeh Hai Ishq Ishq" - Mohammed Rafi/Manna Dey/Batish Sudha Malhotra & Chorus
20. "Sari Sari Raat" - Lata Mangeshkar

Wednesday, March 18, 2009

Diminishing Returns

Audio Junk's Austin Angst is ready, y'all! Featuring tracks by Bo Diddley, Bad Religion, Raymond Scott, and the Smothers Brothers, including much, much more. And from here on out, Audio Junk will be TWO hours instead of three, from 8pm to 10pm EST, every Tuesday night at

Tuesday, March 17, 2009

Cet Obscur Objet du Désir

Possibly two full days of no stomach pain here. Had a huge dinner at Tripp's with my family in celebration of birthday last month, and everything from fish to (cooked) veggies to ice cream cake after left me feeling happily, painfully full as opposed to crampy, and this can only be a good thing. I'm still not going to cancel my colonoscopy, however. I figure it's best to know than to not know, and hitting forty means I gotta get used to doing more old people junk like this. With a tube goin' up and one goin' down, one girl at work tells me she keeps picturing me starring in some kind of twisted tentacle hentai anime. A shame nobody will be there to film it happening.

Every day this past week a guy, whom I am assuming was a former DJ by the notes left in his CD cases and the colored dots on the spines, comes into my stores and drops off at least three huge plastic tubs of old CDs to sell for cash, many of which are imports as well as being very rare and out of print. I've been drooling over them daily, silently freaking out at what he has as well as surprised by what actually came out on CD once, probably years ago, and never resurfaced again. Two of which brought back some serious 1980's nostalgia as well as the hilarity that once was the remarkable 1985 trend of artists united for whatever cause of the moment. Like so...

Actually I can't knock a guy(s) for doing something socially conscious, if not a tad quixotic, even if it probably brought more attention to the act rather than the cause. I can't honestly say in hindsight how much USA For Africa's We Are The World (OOP, selling used for $39.99) helped the starving people in Ethiopia in 1985. But damn, weren't that a pip seeing Dan Aykroyd singing like a buttoned-down Blues Brother with the likes of Lionel Richie and a still normal-looking Michael Jackson? And how everybody used to make fun of Bruce Springsteen's overly-earnest solo part, and how I was still jonesin' for Journey (though not as much as I used to in the early 80's) and would lick the screen every time Steve Perry popped on (what a revoltin' development!). And oh, LaToya Jackson. You were sooooo celebrity crazy back before celebrity crazy was cool. Relive the magic, my friends!

It was also that same year that musician/actor "Little Steven" Van Zandt compiled his Artists United Against Apartheid to release Sun City (OOP, selling used for $59.99) to raise American consciousness about the racial situation in South Africa from the 1940's up through the early 90's. I always found this to be a far superior song than the schmaltzy "We Are The World" and it used to actually give me chills every time this video would come up on the MTV rotation in 1985. Plus it was more fun trying to pick out the faces, from Lou Reed to Afrika Bambaataa, David Ruffin to Joey Ramone. And how weird is that seeing Darryl Hannah dueting with Jackson Browne? Of course they were famously dating at the time, but just... Darryl Hannah. Singing. The project, I think, was less about charity and more about protest, which I think made the song ultimately more vital in some sense. It was a spirit-raising fist in the air sort of thing. And yes, Springsteen brings the angst again in his delivery. Ahhh, the eighties.

Monday, March 16, 2009

Already Better Than The Movie

For concerned parents (like this one) who seem miffed that The Watchmen film wasn't exactly intended for their 'lil punkin' (hey, much like the comic, as if a smiley face with a blood stain wasn't enough warning), perhaps this Saturday morning cartoon version would finally appease them.

And yes, I think I kinda would love a Rorschach Happy Meal.

Saturday, March 14, 2009

The Booker Tease

It's always so difficult getting back on my feet financially since they took away my full time benefits. Not only are my hours cut back, but not getting paid for vacations paaaains me when I get back from Austin and have to sell my favorite stuff just to make my mortgage payments. Had to sell my beloved Kate Bush box set, which I just bought a few weeks ago. Plus my box set of the early films of Alan Clarke (sob), my first season of Little Britain which I haven't even watched yet, my Popeye cartoons from the 1930's, and my Fassbinder box set, which was a big ole punch to the gut. And speaking of gut, it hasn't hurt in two days. In mean, it was just a little twitchy this afternoon, but nothing too concerning. But this is some kind of record, since I haven't stopped hurting since the Thursday I got back from Texas. Shouldn't hold my breath, however. But I did treat myself to a Godiva hot cocoa from the Barnes & Noble cafe this morning -- yes, with hot milk -- but I can put off the vegan thing every once in awhile if it helps me stay off coffee, which I imagine would be worse for my stomach than chocolate. And I was able to wander around sipping my drink without fear of doubling over, perusing the science fiction section with my typical air of exasperation for the corporation that I continue to mindlessly fund. Fuck a buncha Barnes & Noble that has a sci-fi section without Olaf Stapledon. Not like I could afford a new book right this moment anyway. Not when I have to sell Kate Bush to keep a check from bouncing.

I guess there's a brunch tomorrow morning with the usual brunch bunch out in Great Bridge. One of our fellows' birthday is tonight but his party was cancelled because he has a gig this evening. But I suppose this impromptu brunch is in honor of him. Can I tempt fate one more day and eat breakfast tomorrow? God, I miss fruit.

Friday, March 13, 2009

The Ape Regards His Tail

It appears that I have scheduled myself for a colonoscopy. Not only that, but they are also doing the thing where while they're sending a probe up the hooha but a scope down the throat to look into my stomach at the same time, so they're going to put me under and all that fun stuff. Hey, I'll take any amount of fiddlin' around down there if it means finding out what the heck is wrong with me and my upset tumbly. Either way, starting tomorrow I'm going back to a vegan diet again. I figure if my stomach's going to hurt no matter what I eat then I might as well keep trying to stay as healthy as I can.

But it's funny.... it really just dawned on me the other night, lying in bed moaning and holding my gut, that it never was my vegan diet messing up my stomach in the first place. I somehow amazingly forgot that before I started eating vegetarian, I did so because I was already experiencing stomach pains after eating later last year, no matter what I ate. Not as bad as I do now, but bad enough to be noticeable. In fact, it was the vegetarian diet that made those pains go away for about two months at least, until they started kicking in again. I recall the night I was in New York with my friend Paul I had the same stomach ache hanging out at Mars Bar and had to call it an early night, and I hadn't eaten anything practically all day that day, except maybe some bar popcorn at Manitoba's earlier that evening. Sooooo, it's not the diet, right? Er, right?

Speaking of Paul, I got the most wonderful birthday gift box from him this week! I'm sorry if the photos are a little cruddy, but I had to use the flash because it's so dark in the house when its rainy and overcast outside.

PREACHER ACTION FIGURES, BITCHES! From the butt-kickin' seminal comic series The Preacher by writer Garth Ennis and based on the art by Steve Dillon. My friend S. and I were sycophantic Preacher fans during the run of the series, and every time she and I would go to the comic book stores together she would always win out in getting all the Preacher products, like posters and trading cards, and in one case, the only set of action figures that came through town. After losing the coin toss I agreed to pick them up next time they got them in stock, and shur 'nuff, it never came to be. But check it; TWO Jesse Custers, both of which come with eye patches (although I don't recall him losing his eye during the time he wore the white suit), Tulip with a selection of pistols (she looks a little drag-queenie), Cassidy and his cup 'o blood (or a delightful cranberry vodka -- YOU decide!) and of course the Saint Of Killers who comes with a shitload of guns and a pretty sporty hat. And yes, I took them out of the box. Worthless now! Except in my eyes. <3>

Aaaaaand speaking of Manitoba's! When I was in NYC Paul and I went to Handsome Dick Manitoba's pub to see if he was there, but that night, he wasn't. Well, the night before my birthday I got a text message from Paul saying that he was back at Manitoba's pub and that Handsome Dick was wishing me a happy birthday. :) Little did I know that Paul was also getting Dick to autograph this spiffy copy of The Dictators' 1977 classic Manifest Destiny, which coincidentally I don't own.... added bonus!

But you know? Best of all is the mix CD Paul made me, complete with adorably apt cover of a bra, entitled Act Your Age, Not Your Bra Size: Melp At 40 (the irony here is that I just recently had my breasts measured for the first time in my life, and I am a 46-I, so technically I'm even younger than my freakin' BRA SIZE, if that's not terrifying enough) with a tremendous selection of tunage, some of which I actually don't have or ever even heard before. Track listing includes:

1. "Sound System" - Operation Ivy
2. "True Confessions" - The Undertones
3. "Connected" - Stereo MC's
4. "Green Tambourine" - The Lemon Pipers
5. "Pictures Of Matchstick Men" - Camper Van Beethoven
6. "Lady Godiva's Operation" - The Velvet Underground
7. "To Sir With Love" - Al Green
8. "Salt Of The Earth" - The Rolling Stones
9. "Wild One" - Those Darlins
10. "Root Down" - Beastie Boys
11. "Saturday Night" - Bay City Rollers
12. "She's Tight" - Cheap Trick
13. "Pussy And Money" - The Dictators
14. "Clampdown" - The Clash
15. "Candy's Room" - Bruce Springsteen
16. "Neat Neat Neat" - The Damned
17. "Fast Fucked And Furious" - The Humpers
18. "Sad Songs And Waltzes" - Jesse Dayton
19. "Vampire Girl" - Jonathan Richman
20. "See No Evil" - Television
21. "Isis" - Bob Dylan
22. "50ft Queenie" - PJ Harvey
23. "1969" - The Stooges (the year of my birth! :) )
Thank you again, Paul m'love! We really gots ta make another night in the big city sometime soon, or once I'm up to snuff. Maybe get Handsome Dick to sign my bra this time. Heaven knows, at 46-I, there's plenty of room to write as BIG as he'd like.


Sat 14: 12-8
Sun 15: 5-cl
Mon 16: 4-cl
Thur 19: 10-6
Sat 21: 4-cl

Wednesday, March 11, 2009

Rhinocratic Oaths

Last night's Audio Junk: Austin Assimilation edition is ready for your downloading convenience, with choice tracks by Nicholas Payton, King Crimson, K'Naan, and the Austin Lounge Lizards, plus more! And if you wanna hear it all go down live tune in every Tuesday night from 8pm-11pm EST at Random Radio. Enjoy yourself. It's later that you think.

Tuesday, March 10, 2009

Chairs Missing

First 20 tracks on my iTunes sitting here loving my new dining room table! (now if I could just clear out all the crap in the dining room I could actually have people over for dinner someday)

1. "Good Time Tonight" - Big Bill Broonzy
2. "Body Moves" - DJ Mike Sky
3. "Dysfunctional Relationship" - Consolidated
4. "Aase Hechchagide" - Vijaya Anand
5. "No" - The Rezillos
6. "From Russia With Love" - Milemarker
7. "Erotic City" - P-Funk
8. "Man On A Mission" - Hall & Oats
9. "It's Your Thing" - Booker T.& The MG's
10. "Sick River" - Kepone
11. "In Love" - Prince
12. "What Becomes Of The Broken-Hearted" - The Backbeats
13. "What's Going Ahn" - Big Star
14. "Better Days (And The Bottom Drops Out)" - Citizen King
15. "Martin's Story" - The Minutemen
16. "Hippy Hippy Shake" - Chan Romero
17. "College Of Ice" - Robyn Hitchcock
18. "Alphabet Aerobics" - Blackalicious
19. "Sejollo (Whip Dance)" - Yma Sumac
20. "Piece Of My Heart" - Erma Franklin

Monday, March 09, 2009


Tue 10: 10-6:30
Fri 13: 9-4
Sat 14: 12-8

Saturday, March 07, 2009

Haunted When The Minutes Drag

The past two days of stomach angst have been a marathon of uckiness. I called out from work Thursday and stayed in bed, and Friday I didn't even go to the Unknown Hinson show that I had tickets for and that I was looking forward to -- which is a shame, because my friend Ted's band Shifty was opening up for Hinson and I haven't even seen them yet. And rarely do I miss a show for illness, especially in the old days. Back around 1992 or so I had the flu so bad I missed Alice Donut at the Kings Head Inn, and that same year I had the Death Cough so bad I coughed the cartilage right off one of my ribs while I was driving and had to go to the ER, and missed NOFX. Although I did end up seeing NOFX, about two years later opening for Fishbone at the Floodzone in Richmond. And I later saw Alice Donut once or twice, and the band crashed at my house during one of those tours. I remember bass player Sissi walking into my bedroom in the middle of the night while I was asleep thinking she was in the bathroom, and I remember my then-roommate Steve with us having breakfast at Denny's with Da Donuts and him pointing excitedly at Sissi's generous breasts and shouting "THOSE ARE COOL!", which we later discovered he meant the little charms on her necklace. Boy, see where my mind goes while I digress at 4 o'clock in the morning? Anyway, where was I...

So yeah, stomach pains. I feel bad about missing Unknown Hinson, but I knew I would be miserable the entire time. Never knowing when the pains would strike, not to mention barely being able to stay out of the restroom the entire day. Plus I'd be tempted to buy food at the Jewish Mother, and as good as their potato latkes are I doubt they'd settle my tummy any more or less. I can't even remember the last time I saw a live show at the Jewish Mother. Was it the Bad Livers? I think it was. Or one of the multitudes of times I saw Maceo Parker there? That last Maceo gig always reminds me of the time nearly half the audience went to Waffles 'N Things right after the show for after-hours breakfast and coffee, and Maceo showed up with Fred Wesley and Pee Wee Ellis, and my late friend Tom (who was also there but on the other side of the resturant) told me how Maceo was high-fiving him and everybody around him, but when one of Tom's friends raised his hand to be high-fived, Maceo walked right past him and left him hanging. We suspect Maceo just didn't see him, but ever since whenever someone is left hangin' from a high-five we say "Dude, you got MACEO'D!" God, I miss Tom.

And I really need some sleep.

Thursday, March 05, 2009

It Takes One To Grow One

Audio Junk: The Austin Aftermath is up and ready for download, mixing clips from movies like School Daze, In A Lonely Place, and Wall*E with songs by Prince, Soul Children, Negativland and more. DJ JOE INC the worlds worst mixing DJ takes you in the chop shop of sound- the anachronistic time capsule for Another Stoopid Kar Production every Tuesday night at 8pm EST on

Wednesday, March 04, 2009

All Pain And Big Gain

My general practitioner generally has no idea why my stomach hurts when I eat. So I have made an appointment with a gastroenterologist next Monday to see what he says. My doctor thinks I might be typically just a little south of the age to be having a colonoscopy, but I am forty now, and the average age is around forty-eight, so it's not unheard of to do one on the likes of me. All I know is that I want to know what's wrong with me and why I'm absolutely petrified to put anything in my mouth except for white bread and water. And boy, now I know why they have used that method to torture prisoners throughout the ages. It really, really really suuuuucks.

What sucks even more is that my body seems to attack me hardest when I eat anything healthy. The last attacks I had I ate some bananas one night and a papaya the next. But Sunday night I ate a personal pan pizza for dinner and then a Fuddruckers cheeseburger yesterday and I have felt perfectly fine. And oh God, how I hate that. Mentally I feel so greasy and grossed out and yet my body is rewarding me for it by not attacking me. Christ. How the hell am I going to get healthy and lose weight when my body would rather die than let it happen?

I don't know what's worse, the hunger pains from not eating, or the pain that comes when I finally eat. Friday morning I was actually throwing up from it, so now it's gotten to where can't even keep the good stuff down.

Monday cannot come soon enough.