This blog has no respect for authority.

I'M BLACKWATER, YOU FUCKING MAGGOT!

The pills had worn off and I was awake far too early, sitting at the computer by default, reading the MSNBC online news, because the word “Blackwater” had caught my attention while the damned machine was booting up, and I’ve been figuring for a while this private, capitalist, and highly profitable gun-thug legion requires a whole bunch of our attention – and maybe more – lest we find our sorry selves in a world of armed goon-terror and because vast areas of basic law enforcement will seemingly be sold to for-profit sociopaths. The news story was pretty much what I expected up until the end of this excerpt.

“Blackwater has an airstrip and hangar filled with gleaming helicopters, a manufacturing plant for assembling armored cars, a pound filled with bomb-sniffing dogs and a lake with mock ships for training sailors. An armory is stacked to the ceiling with rifles. Throughout the place are outdoor ranges where military, intelligence and law enforcement authorities from around the country practice shooting handguns and assault rifles at automated metal targets made by the firm. An incessant pop, pop, pop fills the air. There's no other place quite like Blackwater, at least not in private hands. The complex anchors a global training and security operation that is one of the government's fastest-growing contractors and both a fixture and a flashpoint of the wars in Iraq and Afghanistan. In a decade, Blackwater's revenue from federal government contracts has grown exponentially, from less than $100,000 to almost $600 million last year. In August, the company won its biggest deal ever, a five-year counternarcotics training contract worth up to $15 billion shared with four other companies.”

At which I exclaimed “Hold it the fuck right there!” Because – with this fucking contract – it would seem Bush & Cheney have gone and sold the War On Drugs to a cartel of Uzi-toting fundamentalist storm troopers with cart-blanche to kick my fucking door down if they so desire because they think I’m a reefer smoking old trouble-maker. And this is the first I’ve heard about it -- when it’s already a done deal! Time to get the .50 caliber and plan for the blaze of glory, methinks.

A background video from The Nation

The secret word is Rabid

OF PROMOTION OR REMEMBERANCE

Gene Vincent died on this day (October 12th) in 1971. He is missed, he is mourned, especially by me, so is it too unethical to remind you all that I wrote a book about the man, and it would be nice if it was more widely read? I mean, it’s a really good little book, infinitely collectable and absolutely guaranteed to make you the envy of all your hipster friends. And if this has over stepped the bounds of respect for the iconic dead, here is a clip – killer in its magnificence – of the late great Ian Dury singing Sweet Gene Vincent (watch for a dementedly inspired solo by my old friend Wilko Johnson) and also Gene himself doing Baby Blue.

The secret word is Gone

OF SINGLE BOUNDS AND TALL BUILDINGS

According to Doug the Bass, the following instruction was included with a child’s Superman Halloween costume. "The wearing of this garment does not enable you to fly."
(The illustration shows the death of Superman in January 1993 – Superman vol. 2 #75. Could it be he didn’t read the label?)

To be honest, today I don’t feel so good. My mind is a slug and I think I am hiding from the more serious stuff like (for instance) indignation at Turkey having the unmitigated gall to get miffed and recall its ambassador after the US House Committee on Foreign Affairs passed a resolution condemning the 1915-17 Armenian genocide by the Ottoman Empire.

DOC'S PAPERBACK CLASSIC'S # 30

You realize there are people in this world who have read this book? They are out there. They may be your dentist’s receptionist or standing behind you in the 7-Eleven. I believe they are harmless, as long as they don’t come off the meds. They also have John Tesh CDs.

The secret word is Normal

Scientology, how about that? You hold on to the tin cans and then this guy asks you a bunch of questions, and if you pay enough money you get to join the master race. How's that for a religion?-- Frank Zappa, to a concert audience at the Rockpile, Toronto, May 1969

(Yesterday we had a shot at the Creationists and the sky didn’t fall, let's see if this gets a response.)

ANGRY ATHEISTS FIGHT BACK -- "WHAT'S GOD DONE FOR YOU LATELY?"

One of the problems with liberals – or progressives, if you prefer the term – is that they are just too damned well brought up. (As opposed to Reds, Anarchists, and other snarling malcontents who just love to mix it up.) Liberals tend to treat even the most rabid fundamentalist with a degree courtesy will never be reciprocated – since the fundamentalists have a history of abuse, mutilation, torture, and an entire menu of slow and excruciatingly painful methods of execution reserved for those who disagree with them (that they now insist President Bush bring back into common usage.) Put 98% of liberals in proximity with some religious body part spouting how the world was created 6000 years ago and Adam and Eve rode around on dinosaurs, and they will quietly sidle to some other place and watch South Park. Only 2% will warn the religious nut-job that if he or she doesn’t can the arrant nonsense their cat will claw their holy rolling eyes out. Thus this linked film makes me very happy since it seems to have been made, or at least instigated by, a crew of extremely pissed off scientist who are not afraid to call an evangelist an asshole.

LEGO YOUR TIRED PRECONCEPTIONS

And from the War on Creationism let's move swiftly on to Lego. (As a child, I loathed Lego, but this really redeems it.) Some might say this Lego model of Stephen Hawking is inexcusably tasteless, but I figure Hawking would dig it. He has been on The Simpsons, and managed to have an affair with his nurse while as immobile as Davros*. Also, at Doc40, tasteless is our business. And while we’re still in Legoland, here's Eddie Izzard’s Death Star Canteen and Cake or Death with Lego animation. (Thanks Noudela)

* just ask.

THREE LITTLE PIGS

Okay, so now it’s getting really infantile. Left is the Disney version of the tri-porkers, but this is Christopher Walken.

The secret word is Huff

CHE POSTSCRIPT

A comment on how Che is missed and missing from the world by Joan Brossa (the late Catalan (visual) poet) Sent by Valerie.

AFTER FORTY YEARS THE LEGEND OF CHE GUEVARA REMAINS UNDIMINISHED BUT THE REVOLUTION EQUALLY UNCOMPLETED

“Let me say, at the risk of seeming ridiculous, that the true revolutionary is guided by great feelings of love.” – Ernesto Che Guevara

Forty years ago today Che Guevara was murdered in a schoolhouse in the tiny Bolivian hamlet of La Higuera. His killer was Mario Teran, a Sergeant in the Bolivian Rangers Special Forces, who had drawn a short straw after, according to legend, his superiors including Felix Rodriguez, the CIA agent who had coordinated Che’s capture, proved too chickenshit to do the deed themselves. On the first attempt, it’s alleged that Teran so botched the job that the badly wounded Guevara screamed “Shoot, coward, you are only going to kill a man.” After the killing, Rodriguez the spook stole Che’s Rolex watch, his only possession of any value, as a souvenir. Then his body was lashed to the landing skids of a helicopter and flown to neighboring Vallegrande where it was laid out in the local hospital and displayed to the press like a trophy in a big game hunt.

Some girl pointed out that today’s Los Angeles Times contains a surisingly even-handed retrospective on Guevara, and a video with some rare film footage. “Great men like Che never die," said Ubanis Ramirez, one of hundreds of Cuban doctors and teachers imported by leftist Bolivian President Evo Morales, whose office features a likeness of Guevara crafted from coca leaves. "His lesson is with us always."

Another video.

WHILE ON A MORE PERSONAL NOTE

Around 1995, I spent the best part of a year writing a script for a movie about Che. The movie was supposed to be released on the 30th anniversary of his death. Needless to say, it was never made. The first draft was brilliant, a thing of courage and beauty. The second was good. The third was quite good, and after that, a million notes from assholes later, it sucked shit. It was around that point that the director decided the film was really a love story. And he didn’t mean the obvious one between Che and Fidel. I was thinking in terms of Lawrence of Arabia. Fuck knows what he was thinking about except that arrogance and money could answer any question he might be asked. It was then that I knew what might have been the project of my life had died, and I went to the Formosa Café and became very drunk. Seems like everyone in the entire Los Angeles basin believes they can write a movie script. I know for sure that they can’t, but that still puts me in the minority.

The secret word is Hasta

And here’s my good pal Johnette singing "Everybody Knows", just to complete the cycle and serve as the requiem .

DOC'S PAPERBACK CLASSIC'S # 29

This is the most hideous cover ever inflicted on one of my novels.

But who says I’m not a fucking icon? In yesterday’s London Sunday Times, Mick Jones and Tony James talked about the formation of their new band Carbon/Silicon.
“We met when Mick was being thrown out of another band,” James says. “They aid to him, ‘We’re chucking you out, but here’s this other bloke.’ We got talking on the Northern Line on the way back to Mick’s gran’s.”
“You had a silk bomber jacket and loons,” suggests Jones. “I never had a silk bomber jacket,” counters James, apparently accepting the loon-pants allegation, “but he had girls’ shoes on.” Such was the confused state of fashion between glam and punk, and in a dull and dispiriting time, Jones and James realised that they were kindred spirits. “We were into the same bands, we both read Creem [a US rock magazine] and we were both reading Mick Farren’s The Tale of Willy’s Rats – and I’ve never met anyone else who’s even heard of that book, let alone read it,” says James. “So here we are, 32 years later. Who else can you trust but your best friend?” (For more)

But, if you’re one of those people who’ve never heard of The Tale of Willy’s Rats, you can download it for free from Funtopia.

EDGAR ALLEN POE IS DEAD

“Edgar Allen Poe died in the Washington College Hospital today after a strange affliction drove him to madness. Poe was found in the Baltimore streets on October 3, and was taken to the hospital shortly. He was frantic and delusional, and never regained coherency before his death. Poe became famous in literary circles, and infamous for long sodden bouts with whiskey. His loyal friend was his mother-in-law. She nursed him to sobriety, nodded agreeably to his hundredth promise, and never left his side,” eulogized The Lawton Constitution on July 27, 1976. “The world had turned its back on the genius. But not Maria Clemm. He was sent to Washington Hospital. He survived four days in screaming delirium. Edgar Allen Poe died on Sunday, Oct. 7, 1849.” Edgar Allen Poe remains one of the most important figures in American literary history. From poems such as The Raven and Lenore to short stories including The Fall of the House of Usher and The Masque of the Red Death, Poe’s style and voice has influenced countless authors and poets since." (And Roger Corman) From HCB

And here’s Christopher Walken reading “The Raven”.

The secret word is Nevermore

“You’re a nice little raven.”

PIG OUT WITH THE SANITIZED TAPEWORM

I almost regret that the tapeworm as a slimming aid went out of fashion around 1900. A staple in your stomach is somehow more acceptable? Or liposuction? And just imagine the TV infomercials.

CANADA GROVELS TO BUSH ON BUSH

“Another dastardly pot pusher meets his well- deserved fate, ay!”

The New York Times reports from Ottawa that the Canadian government is reversing its highly intelligent earlier moves to decriminalize marijuana use. Prime Minister Stephen Harper announced new legal and spending measures against reefer use, cultivation, and distribution. In 2005, when the Canadian Liberal Party was in power, legislation was in the works to eliminate criminal penalties for possessing small amounts of marijuana. The bill did not pass Parliament however, before an election in which a majority of Canadians succumbed to the same idiot political narcissism as Americans, and voted Harper and his Bush-friendly Conservatives into power. Needless to say, the bill was never reintroduced.
Harper has now escalated to becoming a total Bush collaborator in the War on Drugs and is mouthing the usual tired horseshit and adopting the faux-macho posture. “For far too long now in Canada, governments have been sending out mixed messages on drugs. Canadians hardly know what the law is anymore.” And to ram home the idiocy that drug use is still illegal, Harper will spend some $64 million on anti-drug campaigns and increased enforcement, including mandatory sentences for dealers and smugglers. The most telling part of the statement, though, was the avowal of “increased coordination with the United States.” A clear signal that Harper is busy cozying up to Bush, the DEA, and the NAFTA bureaucracy, and making sure that Canada does not become the Holland of North America.

(On the subject of NAFTA, though, (even if the segue is kinda loose) former Mexican President Vicente Fox revealed to the media last week that George Bush, the smirking, swaggering cowboy is actually afraid of horses.)

The secret word is Bud

BUT AFTER THE BAD NEWS...

Here he comes to save the day with a Sunday treat! A new-look Mighty Mouse cartoon from the creators of Ren and Stimpy!

A WEEKEND ART SHOW

Valerie brought us a link to a site devoted to the work of the Spanish artist, Josep Renau, from the Civil War era, who spent the rest of his life speaking out loud in the only way he knew how? Click for much, much more. (And then click the tiny boxes at the far right of the web page.)

SAVED FROM SOCIALIZED MEDICINE

Thank the Gods of disease and pestilence that we have George Bush and the Republican Party, the AMA, the insurance companies, and the pharmaceutical industry making sure we Americans don’t live as long (average life span) as those lousy pinkos in Cuba, Denmark, Chile, South Korea, the United Arab Emirates, Luxembourg, Costa Rica, Ireland, Cyprus, Guadeloupe, Finland, Germany, The United Kingdom, Malta, Belgium, Greece, Martinique, the Netherlands, Austria, Singapore, Norway, New Zealand, Italy, Canada, France, Macau, Israel, Sweden, Spain, Australia, Switzerland, Iceland, Hong Kong and Japan, most of whom have universal health care systems.

A song about healthcare?

The secret word is Ill (but it may be better later if it takes some pills)

POSTSCRIPT

Munz sends us a link to story how prisoners are being quietly released from Gitmo with, I would imagine, stern warnings to keep their fucking mouths shut. Read all about it.

THE AWFUL AFTERMATH OF ART

Earlier, I read the poetry of the detainees after some impromptu chat. It was too grim to be pleased with the performance. (See Monday for the background details.) But the people present seemed to be affected by what the others and I did. Wayne Kramer wore an orange jump suit. We hugged. Some performers didn't show. I guess fearing an FBI file or something. When all was done I drank in aptly named Dresden. It never changes. I got home and fell asleep in front of Stephen Colbert. I woke, alone with cat -- knowing I would always be alone with the cat -- and wondering if our evening efforts had made an iota of difference. Because, if they didn’t, the only question that remains is do I blow my brains out now, or cultivate a total loathing of humanity first. I'm exhausted by 40 years of fighting the bastards.

The secret word is Blackwater

HI!

Hi, I’m an amphetamine molecule and this is The Who.

From when they were mod gods, Anyway Anyhow Anywhere and I Can’t Explain.

The secret word is Wot?

COOLING TOWERS FALL

Hi, this is the Witch-king of Angmar and I hate to see towers falling down. In this clip it’s the cooling towers at Calder Hall in Cumbria, England, the world's first full-scale nuclear power station, being demolished. (Monty Burns take note.)

Oh, and, as of today, the Iranians claim the Russian specialists working on the construction of the Bushehr Nuclear Power Plant in Iran are not leaving town. (See yesterday’s post, and thanks, Munz.)

Also I have a media column in this week’s LA CityBeat about how Fred Thompson should definitely not be president.

REMINDER

Tonight (Thursday), along with a bunch of poets, writers and performers – including my homies Brother Wayne Kramer and Michael Simmons – I’ll be taking part in a mass reading of poems written by former Guantanamo detainees. It’s at Skylight Books, 1818 N. Vermont Ave, Los Angeles. See Monday's post for more details.

THIS TRANSCENDS SCARY

Aeswiren, Doc40’s apocalyptic watchdog, and pessimist emeritus, sends some very disturbing news.

"Iranian and Israeli news outlets are reporting that Russia has evacuated its entire staff of nuclear engineers and experts who were working at the Bushehr nuclear reactor, increasing speculation that the United States is preparing an imminent military attack on Iran. According to the Khorramshar News Agency, which represents ethnic Arabs in opposition to Ahmadinejad's regime who live near the reactor, the Russians packed their bags and left on Friday." (Click for the rest.)

And I can’t help it, but this kind of news makes me resort to Ol’ Bob. Here are not one, but two versions, just shy of half a century apart, of the same very obvious song. This not only shows the artist at extreme phases of his career, but also how, in the 45 years since Cuba Missile Crisis, when the song was written, we have made little headway in negating the fear of nuclear annihilation.

The secret word is Strontium and the secret number is 90

DOC'S PAPERBACK CLASSIC'S # 28

And this Astounding cover was making pretty much the same point twelve years earlier than Bob. We still stall on making the choice.

TASER TALK

This is a TASER. The TASER seems to be showing up all over the place. Security guards, campus cops, real cops. As far as my research goes, it has yet to appear in the BDSM community, although other electric shock devices like cattle prods are becoming quite the rage, but all levels of quasi-law enforcement, including the security at political events, seem to think they are the equivalent of 21st electric billyclubs and are using them with gleeful abandon on anyone who does or says anything they don’t like. And the New Scientist is concerned.

THE INVENTOR AND HIS INFLUENCE

TASER is a registered trademark. The name stems from an acronym created by the original inventor of TASER technology, John H. "Jack" Cover, formerchief scientist of North American Aerospace's Apollo Moon Landing Program. Jack's favorite book character is Tom Swift of the Tom Swift Series, authored by Victor Appleton in 1910-1941. One of the books, TOM SWIFT AND HIS ELECTRIC RIFLE, inspired Jack to create the acronym TASER (A Valerie input)

IF I WAS A BIBLE PRAYING KINDA GUY...

…I’d be experiencing massive metaphysical concern over the volcano that erupted yesterday on an island in Yemen’s end of the Red Sea. The idea of a volcano spewing lava and flame far too fucking close, in my estimation, to the massive Ghawar oilfield, would make me one worried fundamentalist, except most of the media have chosen to ignore it, and I probably wouldn’t even know about it. In my own, more secular reality, I am far more perturbed about Seymour Hersh's revelations in the current New Yorker about how Bush now totally seems bent on starting a war with Iran. (Do Bush and Cheney think their place in history will be assured by leaving the Middle East and maybe the whole bloody planet charred to a crisp?)

“In a series of public statements in recent months, President Bush and members of his Administration have redefined the war in Iraq, to an increasing degree, as a strategic battle between the United States and Iran. “Shia extremists, backed by Iran, are training Iraqis to carry out attacks on our forces and the Iraqi people,” Bush told the national convention of the American Legion in August. “The attacks on our bases and our troops by Iranian-supplied munitions have increased. . . . The Iranian regime must halt these actions. And, until it does, I will take actions necessary to protect our troops.” He then concluded, to applause, “I have authorized our military commanders in Iraq to confront Tehran’s murderous activities.” Click for the rest of the story

Also, if I were of bible praying kinda guy, this version of “I Got You Babe” might tip me over into total apocalyptic dread.

The secret word is Endtime

MONDAY’S MAGRITTE AND MARIANNE

What can I write?
What can I do?
What can I say?
Another month has gone away.
It will not return.
Will the egg become the bird of vision?
Or just a fried egg sandwich?
Shall we start the week with a John Lennon anthem?
Marianne Faithfull performing "Working Class Hero" live?
Damn but she’s wonderful.

And before yesterday’s Brecht/Weil binge fades, here’s P.G. Harvey doing “The Soldier’s Wife” – a song that Marianne once recorded.

The secret word is Uneasy

DETAINEES SPEAK -- A PUBLIC READING

The event is a mass reading of poems written by former Guantanamo detainees and read by the listed performers. (And it will be great to be doing something with Wayne again.) It is at Skylight Books, at 1818 N. Vermont Ave, Los Angeles, next Thursday (October 4th) at 7.00pm and its free!

And if any motherfucking neocon starts talking about giving aid and comfort to terror or failing to support he troops, I would forcibly remind them that we are, in fact, fulfilling the prime function of the nation's military – defending the Constitution of the United States.

LATE SUNDAY REFLECTION ON WHAT'S MISSING IN MY LIFE

Now the dreadful HBO show John From Cincinnati has been cancelled, shouldn’t David Milch get his ass in gear and get to producing another cocksucker series of Deadwood?

DECADENT WEIMAR SUNDAY PICTURE SHOW

"I have knives, boys."

A week ago last Friday (Sept 20th) I posted a video link to David Bowie performing Brecht & Weil’s “Alabama Song.” Since then I’ve come across more of the related same. I don’t know why I find this music of the 1930s so I appealing. (I mean, even I wasn’t born yet.) Maybe it's because there is the same sense of fascist evil I feel today, pushing its way up through the fetid swamp of power – not even a new fascist evil, just the same one as before, but with a different tailor. I have also been running graphics from the Spanish Civil War. I have to suppose that I am really looking at two sides of the same coin. Spain was the briefly shining hope, and Weimar Germany was the doomed hedonism. As modern analogues of the doomed hedonism, here is Nick Cave’s version of Mack the Knife, Mick Jagger performing Streets of Berlin from Bent in full drag, Bob Fosse’s ultimately scary Tomorrow Belongs To Me from Cabaret, and Klaus Nomi’s Falling In Love Again. (pic from Valerie)

The secret word is Marlene

GOD BLESS AMERICA

And here's a link from Miss Templeton to a story in Time about how the leaders of mega-churches just can't stay out of trouble.

WATCH OUT POLAND!

Would you believe I used to lend this man a quid ‘til Friday? That I let him eat the cheese out of my fridge? That he and I wrote a bunch of tunes together? Well, we did, and here’s one of them, “Damage Case” being performed by Metallica with Lemmy as a special guest.

THE CAT SLEEPS

I wish I slept too.

DR WHO WAS NEVER LIKE THIS

Andy, Tom, and I played some dynamite music at the Hyperion last night -- or so I was told -- so today has been mainly dedicated to small literary chores and recovery until I stumbled across this image. It would appear that, before the current Dr. Who revival, the Daleks had sunk so low they were forced to act in porn. I only have this still so I have no idea what exactly they were doing or whether they were Dalek-shouting “Fornicate! Fornicate!” while doing it.

ALEX THE PARROT HAS JOINED THE CHOIR CELESTIAL

Valerie was kind enough to send us this clip Alex the Parrot who died at age 31 but left the legacy of a video of his vocabulary and language comprehension that must be seen to be believed. It’s a hell of a long way from Polly want a cracker. Also, in my travels, I discovered a clip of Marc Bolan performing “Children Of The Revolution”, a tune of which I am very fond, although Marc and I had fairly different concepts of revolution and also a highly divergent taste in shirts, the gods rest him and Alex.

The secret word is Fiord

I also have a short squib in this week’s LA CityBeat about the TV reality show Kid Nation.

A REMINDER

“You’ll get down to the Hyperion Tavern tonight and watch Mick & Andy performing their deviant blues if you know what’s good for you. Now I gotta go trap a fly in my gun barrel.”

And you can find all the details of this fabulous show if you scroll back two days to Tuesday where the info is right below a lovely picture of Maggie Gyllenhaal on a black fur rug.

A QUANDARY

HCB sends me a link to a site called Philorock where they seem to be celebrating the 40th anniversary of psychedelia, and there’s Ptooff!, the Deviants first album, in some pretty intense company like Love, The Doors, and Captain Beefheart. The only trouble is that the whole thing’s in Spanish, and I don’t have a clue whether the writer thinks it’s a masterpiece or a load of shite. Like the headline says, a quandary…

"Este grupo no alcanzó la fama ni el éxito comercial (dudo que ni siquiera lo pretendieran), pero su existencia fue imprescindible para el surgimiento de lo que hoy entendemos por punk. En 1966, cuando el movimiento hippy estaba en su apogeo, los Deviants, primero llamados Social Deviants, lanzaban con sus canciones auténticos cuchillos a los mensajes de paz, amor, flores y “buenos viajes”, a través de unas letras subversivas e incluso antiautoritarias, que hablaban del rechazo a la sociedad y de las drogas en su sentido más oscuro y autodestructivo, a veces con una frialdad extrema, a veces con ironía. Arrasaron en la escena underground de Londres (este disco, producido por ellos mismos, vendió más de 10000 copias al poco de salir), dando conciertos rabiosos y llenos de excesos con todo tipo de drogas, convirtiéndose en el grupo-banda sonora de los más álgidos momentos de protesta juvenil de finales de los sesenta en Inglaterra.En Detroit los MC5 ya habían puesto la semilla del punk (los Stooges no habían nacido aún), pero al otro lado del charco no se experimentaba con música parecida. Entonces los Deviants traen al mundo este “Ptooff!!”, un pequeño monstruo de 34 minutos que mezcla la psicodelia, y el punk al modo de un engendro a medio camino entre los Mothers of Invention y el grupo de Iggy y compañía, sobre el cual ejerció alguna influencia a buen seguro, no sólo en la música sino también en la actitud. No hay más que oír la primera canción, “I´m Coming Home”, una auténtica punkada al modo Stooges, en la que Mick Farren, líder y vocalista del grupo, canta a su propio ego en una progresión enfermiza que acaba llevando a la pura psicosis. Toda una delicia, una joya imprescindible en cualquier colección.Las increíbles “Charlie”, “Garbage” y “Deviation Street” siguen en ese estilo, si bien en las dos últimas se notan más las influencias de Frank Zappa a la hora de imprimir un poco de demencia en lo que ya de por sí es salvaje.“Nothing Man” pone aún más de manifiesto dicha influencia, pero en su vertiente más freak, pues es una composición cacofónica y perturbadora de más de 4 minutos. La sorprendente balada “Child of Sky” y la instrumental “Bun”, ponen un poco de calma dando el toque melódico entre la distorsión reinante en un disco anárquico que, aun siendo corto y un poco extraño, se ha ganado su hueco indiscutible en la historia del rock.Varios miembros del grupo formaron en 1971 The Pink Fairies."Magnífico comentario extraido de la página.

FREE JOHN WATERS

John Waters gives an amazing address on free speech. (Thanks Munz) I guess – just to prove we don’t have any free speech – children shouldn’t watch this because it would probably get Doc40 into a mess of excrement. So, if you’re under 18, piss off and don’t click the link. We mean it. Go watch Fat Britney or idiots sticking bottle rockets up their rectums.

The secret word is Dirty

KILLER MICROROBES FROM OUTER SPACE

Some girl sends us this somewhat worrying report on the behavior of germs in space. That also, as she puts it, “might be a corollary of some sort to the Peru asteroid story.” (See last Wednesday)
“Spaceflight is known to have profound effects on human physiology, weakening astronauts' bones and muscles and impairing their immune systems. A new study shows that its effects on microorganisms may be just as dramatic: Salmonella grown onboard the space shuttle was many times deadlier than its terrestrial counterparts. The study suggests that NASA and other space agencies may need to worry that long manned missions will increase the virulence of microorganisms that astronauts inevitably carry with them.” (The picture is not salmonella, but it looked threatening.) For more.

THE MELT GOES ON

Meanwhile Valerie links us to the fact that the North Pole is the smallest it has ever been.
“Arctic sea ice shrank to the smallest area on record this year, US scientists have confirmed. The National Snow and Ice Data Center (NSIDC) said the minimum extent of 4.13 million sq km (1.59 million sq miles) was reached on 16 September. The figure shatters all previous satellite surveys, including the previous record low of 5.32 million sq km measured in 2005. Earlier this month, it was reported that the Northwest Passage was open. The fabled Arctic shipping route from the Atlantic to the Pacific is normally ice-bound at some location throughout the year; but this year, ships have been able to complete an unimpeded navigation." For more

The secret word is Screwed

POPEYE STATES BASIC INDIVIDUALIST PHILOSOPHY

Without which we all become foul thralls of Mordor. (Although there was a time when I considered that Witch-king of Angmar might not be a bad gig.)

FREE BOB DYLAN

Including the epic (and complete) Maggie’s Farm from the 1965 Newport Folk Festival with a whole mess of Michael Bloomfield and the booing fools at the end. I know it’s from Amazon, but what the hell.

This blog is still affiliated with The White Panther Party

THEY'RE DOING IT AGAIN. THEY CAN'T BE STOPPED.

“Oh course I’m going to see Mick and Andy, why do you think I’m dressed like this?"

Mick Farren and Andy Colquhoun will once again be romping and stomping their two-man psychedelic deviant future blues – with new tunes and special guest Tom Gardner at Tequila Mockingbird’s Club Fluffer at the Hyperion Tavern in Silver Lake this Thursday (September 27th) and you are sooo cordially invited. Showing up between 9.30 and 10.00 PM would be about right.

Hyperion Tavern, 1941 Hyperion Ave, Los Angeles, CA 90027. 323-665-1941 (Look for the red lights.)

Drink it up, tip the bartender, forget your troubles and come on down. (Still our current slogan.)

We understand that Dick and Jane, Slobbery Jim, Angel and Love, Vaseline Tuner and burlesque queen Madame Miss La Diva will also grace the stage.

KITTENS WITH MACHINE GUNS

Twice in the last 24 hours I have encountered a cat with a machine gun. It could just be coincidence, but too many people have told me there are no coincidences in this life, so I wonder if we should take all this a little seriously. Are felines arming themselves with automatic weapons? And, if so, why and against whom? I’d also wonder how they were getting them, except I’m well aware, after decades of strife in the Middle East, Central America, and the former Yugoslavia, you can pick up an Uzi or AK47 dirt cheap from any Tom, Sergei, or Achmed. Just be vigilant if your calico companion starts getting long narrow packages from UPS and claims they're curtain rods.

See the Cat With The Golden Gun in motion.

The secret word is Thompson

Marcel Marceau -- RIP (ssssh)