Click here for the monkey with the machine gun.
Wednesday, July 06, 2011
Tuesday, July 05, 2011
MALAISE 3
When is Ray bloody Manzarek going to give up the wages of necrophilia? Our good pal Richard Metzger says it all on Dangerous Minds.
“Yesterday, on the 40th anniversary of Jim Morrison’s death, Ray Manzarek and Robbie Krieger played a Doors gig after visiting Morrison’s grave site at Pere Lachaise Cemetery in Paris. Fronted by one of the band’s endless series of faux Lizard Kings, Morrison look-a-like David Brock of Doors cover band Wild Child, Manzarek and Krieger did their best to remind anyone watching why their music careers have been utterly insignificant since Morrison died. John Densmore had the good taste and wisdom to not attend. Advice to Manzarek: stop pissing on your legacy. I know your Muse - and cash cow- abandoned you when Jim checked out in that bathtub but your determination to milk every last drop out of the Doors’ legacy has been arrogant, pathetic and shameless. If you must perform, call up the former members of your Doors knock-off Nite City. They could probably use the work. And Ian Astbury has probably got some holes in his Cult tour schedule. Every time you drag out another version of The Doors, you remind us all of how utterly empty the band is without Jim’s voice and presence.”
Click here for Jim
The secret word is Reptile
Monday, July 04, 2011
SHORT ATTENTION SPAN APOCALYPSE
It’s now more than a hundred days since the massive quake, the tsunami, and the Fukushima meltdown, but the western media hardly mention it any more. The only consolation in this deafening lack of extended interest is a growing measure of concern that floods and wild fires the USA could damage American nuclear facilities. I suppose that’s something, but damn…
“Just 100 days after a deadly earthquake and tsunami devastated the Fukushima Daiichi nuclear power plant in Japan, concerns are being raised about several U.S. nuclear stations that are facing natural disasters of their own. Rising floodwaters from the Missouri River are threatening to damage Nebraska's Fort Calhoun Station and Iowa's Cooper Nuclear Station, while a raging forest fire is advancing towards the Los Alamps Nation Laboratory in New Mexico. The Los Alamos lab has been shut down since Monday, one day after a wildfire was sparked in the Santa Fe National Forest, while Fort Calhoun has been closed since mid-April for routine refueling. It remains closed, as floodwaters have crept up to 306 metres above sea level – 2.4 metres short of the plant's threshold "design base". Floodwaters at Cooper station are also below shut-down levels, "and the river would have to rise several feet even beyond that to reach a point where we'd be talking about Cooper's design base," Nuclear Regulatory Commision (NRC) spokesperson Scott Burnell told IPS. Still, many are comparing the United States' readiness for a disaster with Japan's emergency response in March.” (Click here for more)
Click here for Johnny Cash
The secret word is Cobalt
DID YOU EVER SEND OFF FOR SEA MONKEYS?
Talking about my generation and how possibly millions of us kids got conned by this comic book scam. Instead of the cute humanoid family as depicted in its submarine suburban home, all we got was bloody daphnia, only good only to feed fish. But that was nothing compared with the invisible goldfish…
“If you so much as flipped through a single comic book sometime after 1962, von Braunhut’s ads might have gotten you curious about whether his doodads worked even approximately as advertised. For Sea-Monkeys, the ads portrayed a cheerful family of humanoid creatures bearing crowns of some sort and hanging out by their underwater castle. Mom had blond hair. The fine print said something about “caricatures,” but never mind—the bigger type spun a magical tale of pets that would be “like a pack of friendly trained seals” if you followed the directions. Von Braunhut wrote the copy himself, for at least the first couple decades. Ads for another von Braunhut invention, the X-Ray Specs (not to be confused with the English punk band X-Ray Spex), promised the power to see through obstacles and showed a guy grinning at a woman in a dress. Again there were words like “illusion”—the effect is created by feathers or grooves in the lenses, von Braunhut’s patents show—but that wasn’t where the average comic book reader focused his attention. In von Braunhut’s most impressive marketing coup, he peddled “Invisible Goldfish." The kit included a glass bowl, a handbook and fish food. That was it. He said they sold out. There was a 100 percent guarantee that the buyer would never see the fish, and I’m 100 percent sure that guarantee never failed. The greatest trick the Invisible Goldfish ever pulled was convincing the world they existed.” (Click here for the whole sorry story)
Saturday, July 02, 2011
SUNDAY BREAKFAST (Posted a little early)
Back in my Brighton lair with my cat and my pipeweed, and the dark legions of Mordor maybe at bay, (but don’t speak too soon) I’ve finally had time to reflect on all of the recent adventures that my teenage mind has inflicted on my ancient body. As the whole Glastonbury experience recedes into perspective, I discover just how mixed my feelings really are. The combo of former Deviants and Pink Fairies I laughingly call The Edgar Allan Poe Blues Band was everything I could have hoped for. It’s early days yet, but the music is really coming along amazingly well, and the only debates are of the kind that happen between creative people who want to improve the work. Beyond the band, however, the experience was decidedly lacking. Okay so the mud and chaos couldn’t have been helped, but – with a round trip drive of almost 300 miles – to arrive at the site and wait three hours to get accredited and then finally reach the stage to find no food, very little water, and not so much as a fucking beer, indicated that we were in the bowels of a vast and arrogant corporate clusterfuck. Individuals were aces – Becky the Glade coordinator, the guys working the stage, and the heroic 4x4 drivers. RH has said it all in last Monday’s post so I won’t go on. On another level, though, I keep a very open mind about mystic places and belief in John Michell’s laylines. But I do remember the feeling – as I lay in the sun on the hill above the first pyramid stage in 1971 – that there was a kind replenishment coming from the earth. (Of course, I had taken quite a bit of acid.) Certainly no replenishment was happening in 2011. If anything the Magic of Avalon was being choked off by a slurry of the worst of contemporary pop culture. Beyonce? Beyonce? I can figure no equation that relates Beyonce to the Once & Future King. Blake's Jerusalem wasn't not being builded there. (When I got back from the trip, I flopped into a chair and cut off my performers wrist band. Finn the cat immediately seized it and ran away into the bathroom. He clearly didn’t want me going back there again.) I’m now looking for to a period without any epic challenges. A time to relax, to write, to get back to my poetry and fiction. But let me not temp fate. The way my luck’s been running, aliens could land in the back garden on Tuesday.
Click here for Hank Williams
The secret word is Ra
Friday, July 01, 2011
CROWS CAN HOLD A GRUDGE
The moral of this story (lifted from io9) is that you don’t mess with Corvus Corvidae.
“Crows will not only remember your face and go after you repeatedly if you bother them, but they will also teach other birds to do the same. Their scolding and physical harassment can last for years, possibly for the life of the bird. Crows are the devil-birds of the sky. Not only do they look like the kind of bird that would be perched on the shoulder of a Disney villain, they do frighteningly smart things. For one thing, they use tools to assess and find food. They even make frogs explode. (The crows swoop down and tear the frogs' livers out. The frogs swell up in a belated self-defense reflex. Unfortunately, they're used to swelling up with their livers in place to provide counter-force and so they split themselves open.) Now it's been shown that crows aren't just smart, they're organized. Two researchers at the University of Washington trapped, banded, and released crows at a site near Seattle. They did so wearing distinctive masks - to freak out not only the crows but any poor hikers who were going by. Unlike the meek Seattle hikers, the crows started fighting back as soon as they were released. They scolded the researchers, which didn't seem too sinister until the scolding brought other nearby crows into the fray. Neighboring crows joined in, until at some release sites the researchers were being scolded and dive-bombed by fifteen crows at a time. When the researchers put the masks back on and ventured out, they were again scolded, dive-bombed, and mobbed by crows. But not all the mobs contained crows that were banded. This meant that some of the crows that had participated in the original scolding sessions remembered the researcher's 'faces' and went on the offensive when they saw those faces again. The crows they were with joined in the mob, and the masks became known as trouble to an even larger population of crows. Researchers have only tested crow memory for five years, but they believe that the birds remember faces for their entire lives - fifteen to forty years. Get on the wrong side of one crow in your forties or fifties, and you could be mobbed everywhere for the rest of your life.”
Click here for The Great Society
The secret word is Gallows
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