Essentials

Holly, I'm not sure whether or not you drive motorcycles. But should you ever head off on a motorcycle trip, there are a few things you should bring. First of all, you'll need some idiot juice. Being a hipster, I recommend cans of PBR. Of course, Boris: The Alsatian Flask is also acceptable, if you can stomach imported French beer. Next, you'll need a head tent. I said it. And get your mind out of the gutter. I'm talking about handy, portable tents just big enough to put over your head, keeping your face free of rain, bugs, dog urine, and possibly shield your face from the horrors of the world. All that while you freeze to death from the shoulders down. You might think this is a bad thing. Of course, the picture shown above left clearly shows that this is intended. See, your plastic bottle of vodka stays nicely chilled this way--while you sleep!

Holly, I'm sorry. But I'm gonna have to bring things down a notch right now. I think you should be AWARE of this list of the worst album covers ever. While number 10 on the list doesn't seem so bad, I think my favorite has to be "Joyce" by Joyce (an album cover designed specifically with Joyce in mind).

Monday bloody monday

Today marks another sad day when the U.S. Supreme Court issued opinions that further undermine basic liberties that Americans are entitled to. This kind of thing wouldn't happen if there were fewer fascists on the court, and more and more reasonable and intelligent justices. This post is my official "fuck you" to the U.S. Supreme Court*. Not MY supreme court.


*For Monday 6.27.2005. I fully reserve all rights to issue further "fuck you"s at all later dates.

Actually, George Peppard is The Aquamaniac

Well, Christina Aguilera has been linked to torture (with a very intended linking pun). What is more ironic--something that should be of utmost interest to all our hipster readers out there and especially Turtledaub himself--is that Guns 'N Roses' "Welcome to the Jungle" was blasted at CIA-installed puppet dictator Manuel Noriega's compound when the U.S. government turned on him in 1989, and Nancy Sinatra's "These Boots Are Made for Walking" thundered out of the speakers at the Branch Davidian compound in wacky Waco, TX in 1993. At least the Italians are ready to lock up the kind of people who would try that stuff. "Italy: Making the World Safe for metalheads, duders, and hipsters at all points south of heaven, since 2005" Sounds like a winning tourism campaign to me. What I really wonder about, though, is how many people felt a strange inclination, something they...just...couldn't put their fingers on...to head in the direction of Waco, TX at about the same time in 1993 that Nancy Sinatra was heard loudly in those parts. That's the kind of stuff newspapers won't tell you. But, alas, that's exactly what I want to know! I would estimate the number at somewhere around 484 persons, not counting cattle.

And by the way, if years of watching The A-Team has taught me anything (besides the fact that the U.S. government is totally corrupt and is after a team of crack commandos for a crime they didn't commit), it's that George Peppard is best known as The Aquamaniac.

Anyway, please enjoy this awesome artwork by Gerhard Richter (yes, he IS the same guy who painted a candle that was reproduced on a certain Sonic Youth album cover):

Dirty

My God, just when it appeared that things couldn't get any stranger at Guantanamo Bay, Cuba, a report in last week's Time magazine suggests that during the U.S.'s "interrogation" of Taliban and al-Qaeda terrorists, one form of torture involved playing music by Christina Aguilera (for more background on this story, click on this link).

Now, don't get me wrong. I will stand by my government's position on Ms. Aguilera's music--that it is torturous to listen to. Just imagine Barbara Streisand stuck inside Paris Hilton's body and you get that intellectual beast known as Christina Aguilera. But if my country really wants to torture these dudes, they should play them some music by my band!

I know you're thinking: Holly, you're probably going for some sorta retroriotgrrrrl VGI stuff because of your gender-persuasion and committment to hardcore radical alternativism. You could be farther from the truth. I'm all about MMM: Metal Machine Music. The Paper Cat contributed some licks, but his heart was just not in it. We almost came to blows, but we reconciled. For those of you who've seen that terrible film with Audrey Hepburn in it, you know how Holly loves cats! Though we remain buddies, our songwriting philosophies will relegate me to the "one Wo-man band" bin in your local record store ... eventually!

Pure Cacophony for Now People ... that's my musical mantra and philosophy. But I'm having a hard time coming up with band names. I think that just the right name, along with perfect combination of squawks, squeals, and electronic static with help scare those terrorists into revealing the present whereabouts of Osama bin Laden (never mind the fact they've been apprehended for well over three years now). Here are some names I've been considering:

Chainsaw Accident
Burnt Flag Bongwater
The Pipe Bomb Cigarettes
The Annoying Amber Bills [holla atcha boy ZeKeith McFisto]
Rectums and Tennis Rackets
The Sweaty Backs
Slunk Meat Buffet
The Milk-Mustache'd Kittens
Armpit Stubble
Death Valley Igloo

& [last, but definitely not least]

George Peppard is Satan

I've only got one song so far--a 27-minute screed against Cheese, called "My Honey Eats Weird Food." If you have any names to suggest, please leave a comment.

Things I Wonder

While squatting above a nasty toilet bowl in the ladies' room in an Arby's restaurant (ummm, Roast Beef with Arby-Q sauce; ummm, horseradish), I was wondering which is actually nastier: those silly troughs that manly-man Paper Cat was showing off in his last post, or these scuzzy ladies' rooms (which are basically troughs with dividers, if you think about it). Actually, while going to the bathroom, I was wondering about the profound lack of relevance of the graffiti scrawled on this stop sign in an Arlington, Virginia high school parking lot.

The graffiti is obviously a reference to Jan Hammer, the guy who not only did cutting edge work with Jeff Beck back in 1977, but who, most notably, composed the wonderful theme song for the best television show of the 1980s, Miami Vice. Italian sports cars, flamingos, sprinkler systems, cocaine, pastel socks, Don Johnson and Philip Michael Thomas .... arrrrrrrr :) People who lived out the 80s in all their disgusting glory have seemingly forgot just how extraordinary this soundtrack album (1985) is, with Jan Hammer's stunning keyboard work, Melle Mel's rap stylings, Phil Collins' drum clinic "In the Air Tonight" and, lest we forget, the sexiest slow-burn sax song of all time, Glenn Frey's "You Belong to the City." I wonder why so many people have forgotten the astounding cultural work done by this glorious soundtrack album that was, in essence, the soundtrack to all our lives back in '85.

Another thing I wonder: if ya'll can see through my thin veneer of irony. You are probably thinking, "Holly doesn't really like the Miami Vice soundtrack. She's just saying that because it's an easy pop cultural target that can generate some quick n' easy laughs." And you'd be partially correct. I loved this album intensely as a ten year-old. But I also loved sucking my thumb when I was ten.

However, you might wonder--that is, if you are interested--what sincerely makes Holly smile. Look no further than this album:

Austin Wiggin was paying for music lessons for three of his teenaged daughters: Dot (lead guitar, vocals), Betty (rhythm guitar, vocals) and Helen (drums). He wanted to "get them while they were hot." The result was a vanity recording released in 1969 called Philosophy of the World. This recording is so musically terrible that most people can't bear to listen to more than 10 seconds of it. But if you are patient, and listen to how simple, naive, idealistic and sincere the young Wiggin sisters are, the record becomes a pure joy to listen to. It really brings a smile to my face, whereas most things in life, outside of good friends and bad jokes, rarely do so. The lyrics range from the mundane ("My companion is with me when I drive my car, even when I go real far") and pseudoaphoristic ("The short people want what the tall people got and the tall people want what the short people got") to the utterly nonsensical ("Where will Foot Foot go? What will Foot Foot do? Oh Foot Foot I wish I could find you"). Dot and Betty's voices are terrible and they can barely play guitar. Worst of all is Helen, who couldn't keep a beat if it meant saving all of Europe from sliding into the Atlantic Ocean. The resulting aural calamity is one of the most precious things you will ever hear (though I do not recommend listening to this stuff for more than, oh, say, 20 minutes at a time--also, avoid their other album, Shaggs Own Thing). Their sound is best summarized by jazz musician Carla Bley who said, "[The Shaggs] bring my mind to a complete halt." The best song on Philosophy is "Things I Wonder." Dot sings of what she wonders about: stars, love, things she doesn't know about, etc. I wonder why I like Philosophy of the World so much but do not like Tales from Topographic Oceans (1973) by Yes or other records by "great musicians." To quote Dot, "It seems as though the things I wonder most are the things I never find out": oh, and because Yes sucks :)

Stately, Plump Buck Mulligan Came from the Stairhead

Today marks the 101st anniversary of the day that James Joyce's great novel Ulysses (1922) takes place--June 16th, 1904. For Joyceans and all other interested parties, it is known as Bloomsday, after the middle-aged protagonist of the novel, Leopold Bloom. Some people like to celebrate this day. Some people take it too seriously. But, if you need a day to be reminded that most days are like any other, then celebrate Bloomsday--and, if you are a dreamer, imagine that your life is being transcribed by an eyegonblack genius who couldn't fix televisions.

Boys don't cry

Holly, you, and all our female readers, may not be aware what goes on behind closed doors. Not the kind of closed doors Charlie Rich sang about. No, I'm taking about bathrooms. Those places where men's souls are written on the walls. I think Yogi Berra said that, or maybe Baudelaire. So you may have little idea about the concept of a trough. You could get a better idea if you snuck into a restroom at Wrigley Field.


Or perhaps you prefer a corner model:


You won't be washin' no potatoes in these those troughs. Certainly not (unless maybe you are in Alcatraz). What you can do is pee standing up into them. And you can do it with a whole bunch of your close personal friends--or a bunch of perfect strangers!

Of course, there are some rules of thumb you might want to be aware of before you go to take a look inside, past the closed doors.

(1) You don't just stand right up next to someone. After all, it's about peeing standing up. We are still civilized (well, maybe not your Lexicon Devil chainsaw guy)! With individual urinals, you don't pick the middle of three. You pick an end, and the next guy leaves a space in between. The same basic principle applies to the trough.

(2) Just like hide-and-go-seek, there is no peeking. Eyes forward pervert. This isn't something perfectly acceptable like sleeping in bed with small children. I suppose you could sneek a look at Dick's Cheney. I'm not sure he is human (ever see Conan O'Brien show the clip of his entrance, complete with smoke effects?).

(3) Two wags. More than that, and you might not be in there to pee. I will not comment further on this.

I'm the Fucking Son of a Superman

All this talk about Ricky Martin and human rights is making me hungry: for corned beef hash!

Little known fact: Holly Go-Heavily loves this wretched stuff! Does this make me a "Volume 11 Carnivore"?

Though I normally don't take exception to anything ... anything ... that the Beatles' sang, I think I'm going to have to agree to disagree with Paul McCartney when he sang, "I've got to admit it's getting better / getting better all the time." Holly Go-Heavily, differing from Sir Paul and the Paper Cat, thinks that things are either Getting Worse or simply Staying the Same (in some places known as The Status Quo).

For one thing, I can't trust my country's Department of Homeland Security. According to the Associated Press:

On April 25, Gregory Despres arrived at the U.S.-Canadian border crossing at Calais, Maine, carrying a homemade sword, a hatchet, a knife, brass knuckles and a chain saw stained with what appeared to be blood. U.S. customs agents confiscated the weapons and fingerprinted Despres.

Then they let him into the United States.

The following day, a gruesome scene was discovered in Despres’ hometown of Minto, New Brunswick: The decapitated body of a 74-year-old country musician named Frederick Fulton was found on his kitchen floor. The man’s head was in a pillow case under a kitchen table. His common-law wife was discovered stabbed to death in a bedroom.

Wow. Simply Wow! After reading this story, I thought it was if a hand of the occult had swooped down into the belly of punk rock hell and resurrected the long-dead Germs' frontman Darby Crash (1958-1980).


Despres does look like a Lexicon Devil, that's for sure. Things might be getting better if Darby Crash was resurrected. (GI) (1979) is one of the best punk rock albums ever put down on wax. But bringing him back as a hatchet-murderer makes me think that things aren't getting better. Cat, what should I do to overcome these pessimistic tendencies?

PS RIP Anne Bancroft (1931-2005)

It's not just about the music

Tell me about it! Those philistines also left off the Pauly Shore classic Bio-Dome (1996). Their list certainly is a travesty. What's more, films that changed cinema as we know it, like Michelangelo Antonioni's L'Avventura (1960) and Robert Bresson's Au Hasard Balthazar (1966) (in addition to those you mention), are completely ignored in favor of a hefty amount of Hollywood filler. But I'm getting ahead of myself. After all, where would a great films list be if it didn't cater to people who only speak English and can't read subtitles? Anyway, I've come across one or two better lists of great films in my day.

Still, not everything in the world is awry. At least not yet. Why, just recently that stalwart of musical ingenuity and creativity, Ricky Martin, was FINALLY honored for his efforts to end slavery:

http://sg.news.yahoo.com/050603/1/3stvt.html

On a sadder note, it may be years before Enrique Eglesias finally gets that Nobel Prize in Physics he so completely deserves.

Your Kiss is On My List

Cat, as a token of my gratitude, I'd like to invite you to join me at this convention. I think you'd be quite comfortable there. We could spend some quality time with the wonderful people from PETA. By the way, did I mention that I got tickets to go see Ted Nugent in August [wink wink].

There are too many unpleasant things happening in the world today. Job hiring was down in May in the United States to its lowest level since September, 2001, "Deepthroat" was uncovered, President Bush continues to offer a tepid defense for the United States' presence in Iraq, and Monster-in-Law (starring Jennifer Lopez and Jane Fonda) was just a blockbuster hit. Things are bad. But here's the topper:

http://www.time.com/time/2005/100movies/the_complete_list.html

Not only do the philistines at Time neglect to list The Passion of Joan of Arc (1929), The Wizard of Oz (1939), 2001: A Space Odyssey (1968), Network (1976) or Annie Hall (1977), they also ignore the following masterpieces: Fast Times at Ridgemont High (1982), Flashdance (1983), Footloose (1984), Top Gun (1986) and Harold and Kumar Go to White Castle (2004). The two Dicks (Richard Corliss and Richard Schickel) who wrote this obviously have no appreciation for great cinema, and/or their film vocabulary is woefully inadequate. What say you, Cat?

Eat nothing that casts a shadow

Holly, I would like to point you to the web site the meat industry wished it owned:

http://www.meat.org/

I would also like to point you to the web site the meat industry does own:

http://www.meatami.com/

I provide these links in honor of all the innocent living plants killed by both meat-eaters and vegetarians. You see, I've finally made it to level-10A vegan status! You are invited to my place to have a glass of water to celebrate. Actually, tap water for everyone! Why not? This is a special occasion.