Saturday, September 29, 2007


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.


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.


I wish I slept too.

Friday, September 28, 2007


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.


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.

Thursday, September 27, 2007


“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.


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.


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

Wednesday, September 26, 2007


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.


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


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.)


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

Tuesday, September 25, 2007


“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.


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)

Monday, September 24, 2007

Bush or Bud?

I don’t quite know what to think about this pretty damn unique portrait of George W. Bush by Steve Lazarides (and sent over by Doug the Bass.) Does the loathsome oaf even deserve the attention? I recall something similar was done to John Ashcroft when he was the Holy Roller Attorney General. This, however, is a great deal more subtle and takes a little figuring out, but start from the top of his left ear (your left) and move out across all the pornographic contours of the face. Left clicking for a bigger image helps.

I’m also unsure about this Budweiser commercial from the 2002 Super Bowl that's been making the web rounds in the wake of 9/11 hindsight. Is the damned thing dignified or a piece of tawdry beer bathos? Those Clydesdales are damn fine horses, though.

The secret word is Decide

Sunday, September 23, 2007