Sunday, August 13, 2023

And now for the $64,000 this blog or is it not turning into a tiresome diatribe or what??? Once agin yer RIGHT Mr. Einstein, although to be rather forthright about it the thing has been nothing but utter spewsville and for what seems like quite a few ice ages ago at that. If you really wanna face the facts ma'am, BLOG TO COMM has worn out its "usefulness" pretty much in the same way that (at least according to this oft linked article) both Al Capp and Gary Trudeau's comic strip creations, once highly respected and hosanna's all the way to Ames Idaho and back, eventually became hollow shells of their former bigness and went out on a quite sour note. (Well, at least it did in Capp's case since the other strip's still dragging along like a highly fat-laden bowel movement.) 

Well, maybe not just a sour note mind you, but on a perhaps even kinda cringey one, something that's more than obvious once you compare a prime LI'L ABNER with a seventies storyline struggling to retain some relevancy with poor art and abysmal attempts at being up-to-date working against it. (As far as DOONESBURY goes well, was it ever entertaining 'cept to the back-patting sixties radical WHAT EVER HAPPENED TO THE CLASS OF '64/SECAUSUS SEVEN conscientious objector snobs who it's so obvious this strip was custom made for?)

It just might be that my own stupid problem's that I have been doing way too MUCH self-censoring or at least self-editing, excising a whole load of opinions that I'm sure would fly with NOBODY other'n myself 'n perhaps not even that. Now the unbowdlerized me would really give this blog the upkick it most definitely needs, but then again it would most definitely lose me a whole lot more readership ('n eh, why should I care other'n it would cramp up my chances to sell back issues of my crudzine!) not to mention spur on quite a few nabobs out there to toss some rather nasty legal action my way! At this rather late point in that thing I call "living" (hah!) I can do without any additional hassles adding to the misery of just being here. 

Heck, the things I have been writing and almost immediately excising over the past few months make what I pecked out about a certain blogger a good half-year back look rather chummy which might be saying loads more'n even I'd wish would be said!

At least in my own personal book of what's prim and proper, offensiveness is "in" as they used to say way back inna sixties. By that I mean taking on various subject matters and human groupings that have been rather verboten to criticize, or at least they were ever since NATIONAL LAMPOON and the SNL crowd decided to change their whole reason for offensiveness and just take on the more "right wing" and "down home" portion of our society. I believe they did this because of Ronald Reagan, or something like that --- satire sure changed after that guy got into power!  

So diatribe on I will, though I will tread with some caution if only to keep some of them moralistic (hah!) above-it-all sacrosanct types who might tune in off my already gnawed at hindquarters. Maybe in some strange and unforeseen fashion I'll not only return this blog, and even the entire BLACK/BLOG TO COMM brand to its former kinda/sorta "glory" but really let off a whole load of pressure cooker rage that I've held in for the past couple or so decades!  

Kinda like in that scene which opens WHITE HEAT where the novice train robber (the one who gets all of the what for from James Cagney for spilling his name in front of the engineer) gets lobster'd by a well-placed blast of steam (representing the release of years of pent upness on my part) and Cagney gives a gun to the guy's pal telling him to shoot the scalded one because he's his friend! That scene always cracked me up almost as much as the one where Cagney ventilates a would-be assassin in the trunk of a car.

And if the above doesn't win me the "Plod On of the Year" award then maybe the rest of this post will!


As far as extracurricular activities're goin' these days well, there ain't that much time for me to get extracurricular about anything so why bother bringing it up other'n to fill up space and be all self-centered like you'd expect me to be. But even with all of the break out the violins real life hassles I unfortunately have to put up with I do have some opportunities to do a few funtime things, like putting this blog together and eyeballing a little tee-vee whenever the mood hits. Interesting thing is that, for the most part, my tuner is pretty much affixed to the INSP channel which tosses nothing at'cha but old television and moom pitcher westerns from the days when these driven dramas pretty much ruled the prime time schedules (sometimes I will trek on over to FETV for even more westerns or perhaps some old comedy even if it is HAZEL --- sure wish I could drag in Antenna TV for even more classic classy entertainment).

One tee-vee show that I always try to be up and front for are the original GUNSMOKEs, something I will watch repeatedly and still find as much joy in the umpteenth viewing as I did with the first. These early half-hour GUNSMOKEs (known for years by their syndicated MARSHAL DILLON moniker, the one with that powerful late-fifties tensed up theme song that's unfortunately been replaced by the comparative mild original opening) are always a boff way for me end my usually dismal tension-packed days on a not so quite sour note, and in no way can I tell ya just how much I love the earliest episodes of this long-running counter-counterculture television series (as Lester Bangs once wrote  ---  read THROAT CULTURE #2 for the lowdown) that deals with themes that really bowl me over. Y'know, with plots and twists and other interesting developments that fit into my own sense of what makes up this curse that has been put upon all of us called existence --- things like personal loss (even if you never had anything to lose in the first place), life-affecting circumstances beyond one's control, people choosing can or can't over right or wrong (which seems to me the only true possible solution when it comes to how I'd like to handle situations --- then I sometimes come to my senses) and the plain ol' fact that a good portion of people who have walked the face of this earth (self included) are losers, and that mankind is for all intent purposes screwed. 

Having sat repeatedly through these early programs I find 'em all the more meaningful, at least to my own shattered vision of what treachery life has tossed to way too many people who deserved better. (The majority of people I have come across throughout my existence most certainly deserved worse which is why I can't help but laugh when bad things happen to those who have earned their destruction.) And one sure thing I gotta crow about is that James Arness is one person who rightfully so amassed all the hosannas he got for his portrayal of Marshal Matt Dillon given the controlled chaos drive he put into his role. When the situation fit (such as when Dillon came across a bonafeed down and outer) he could be philosophical and understanding in ways I never saw in any figure of authority --- in fact Dillon's even quite tolerant to the point where he doesn't scream his head off at Chester for the boneheaded mistakes the limping one continued to make throughout his tenure on the show! 

Yet at other times Dillon was a downright cruel and even sadistic tough guy, especially when he'd meet up with some amoral cowboy giving the miscreant a well-placed knock-down slap that thrusts him right across the room. Now that's something I sure wish I had the courage and strength to do, especially in this world filled with phony moralists who codge their belief systems with some of the flimsiest shards of self-soothing pseudo-philosophies in order to justify what any sane person would call outright evil. 

Dillon proved your parents and school teachers wrong --- violence did solve a whole lotta problems and, despite what the humanists say, this is a world where some hideous creatures masquerading as human beings did, do and will continue to exist as long as decent people let them. Who can deny that there aren't more than just a few subsputum beings out there deserving of that hard whack across the face, total smack down or bullet that Dillon would deliver when confronting a confirmed badman, not making excuses for the transgressive like way too many of you wonks out there are most liable to do. Sheesh. I'm still stinging from that ending (talkin' the one where Wayne Rogers of M*A*S*H fame is accused of a murder that was actually committed by some sniveling attention grabber) and, when the truth is eventually revealed, Dillon slowly but surely unleashes his anger on the bad boy shaking and throwing him to the ground until that bonafeed jerkoff's cowering in utter fear! 

Not that Dillon has ever been wrong because he did eff up on a few occasions and like bigtime. You ever see the one where he went after murder suspect and future MANNIX star Mike Conners on what seemed like a whole lot more'n just "circumstantial evidence" only to find out that Connors was innocent all along, getting a sly verbal burn from the guy as he rode outta Dodge leaving Dillon looking kinda sheepish? And yes, the bad ones got away a few times though once or twice that thing called karma caught up and caught up pretty good.

's one series that features characters that I can actually empathize with and goshdarn it even feel sorry for especially in this cold dark cyborg age where just about EVERYTHING can go rot for all I care. Any with Strother Martin are worth the repeated viewing --- heck, I gotta admit that I get a lumped up throat every time I see the one where he portrays the brain-addled Dooley who, after getting fatally shot by Dillon when he gets roaring drunk and knifes the guys who set him up for a murder rap, asks the marshal if it's OK if he stops in at the jail for a visit next time he's in Dodge City. John Dehner always did fine on the show, one of my faves being when he played this old guy on the hunt for a wife who ends up falling for Miss Kitty after she defends him from some callous dance hall girls who were poking fun at the inept yet somewhat lovable doof. Speaking of oldsters, the one where this half-crazed longhair who fought with both the army and the Indians gets the entire town worked up with talk of an imminent Pawnee uprising sure does its share of quick-cutting itself, especially when the guy in his failure breaks down crying because he realized that he wasn't part of either the white man nor the Indian's world anymore and he had nothing to look forward to but shame. The culmination strikes pretty hard when it seems as if the only real solution to his dilemma is the "strong medicine" his daughter brings.

'n please, don't get me on the ones with Royal Dano as Obie Tater or comedy great Andy Clyde as this (once again framed) sodbuster who chooses to die by snakebite rather than call out for help because death by rattler was way more preferable to life in prison --- could go on forever about those!

Been watching some of the other old westerns that have been popping up on the cathode as well. Kinda got tired out by all of the RAWHIDEs that have been incessantly "aired" (don't hold up to the repeato eyeballing the way GUNSMOKE does) but WAGON TRAIN remains a gotta see if only because there are a whole lotta those I've yet to glom such as the one featuring Lou Costello that was filmed near the end of his own run. LARAMIE's pretty swell if only for the presence of longtime television reg'lar Robert Fuller as one of those kinda/sorta antihero but not really types who are downright admirable because even though he seems bad he's cool enough to come off good, especially when the badskis always seem to be amongst the spiffier and thus more nauseating ones amongst us. 

'n if anyone from INSP or FETV just happens to be reading this, howzbout some HAVE GUN, WILL TRAVEL or THE RIFLEMAN to freshen up the pot so to speak???

And as life lurches on into vistas that I would prefer to avoid at all costs well, it's sure great to settle down in front of the idjit box watching programs that reflect ideals like an honest appraisal of the human condition and the unmitigated pain of being flung into situations that you really have no control over. Trudge on you must, at least until that bullet finally gets you. 

But hey, I can't explain anything like concepts of morality, duty, self-respect and what's right and wrong to any of your put on pricks out there now, can I? Maybe a good sitting down for an evening of classic, hard-edged westerns such as the early GUNSMOKEs'll teach a few of you a thing or two about not only what entertainment entailed to people who were way superior to you but what a drama that reflects the sad reality of being really is. In all honesty I doubt you'd watch it anyway, just like I wouldn't read homosexual pornography as one wonk suggested I should do in order to "understand" the whys and wherefores of that wonderful and wholesome ideology otherwise known as gay shitsex culture. You don't have to read porn to know just how messed things are anymore --- real life already does enough of that.


Wowzer discovery of the week's just gotta be finding out about this definitely unknown in the U.S. of Whoa entity entitled JUCIKA. Twas a Hungarian comic strip done up by some dirty maybe not-so-old man who went under the name Pusztai Pal, and it appeared in some bohunk humor mag called LUDAS MATYI which I believe loosely translates into Goulash Balls although my Berlitz might just be off a li'l bit. 

Embarrassingly enough I knew nada about JUCIKA until happening upon her twitter page but a few mere days ago. 'n for a comic that ran from '57 until '70 its surprisingly sexy (but not dirty or porno) for whatcha'd think the East Bloc powers would permit. I guess standards of decency over there were a whole lot more lax'n they were over here and although we were all the better off for it (hah!) at least the Hungarians got a li'l bit of escapism during them days of Eastern Bloc rule. Well, one thing is that I'm sure that the eye-popping illustrations involving my new heroine that pop up here were motivating enough to get a few boys over there to beg their parents for the luxury of a door lock on the bathroom, ifyaknowaddamean...

What clock rocker wouldn't cozy up to a strip 'bout a young brunette who gets into a whole load of wordless adventures that much of the time have her in various stages of undress and fighting off the advances of Peeping Toms and leering co-workers? And sure this ain't no LULU AND LEANDER but then again this ain't the standard girly mag comic taking the standard run of the mill joke and making it more obvious with a tits and ass outlook t'boot! JUCIKA's a nice fun way to spend a few seconds in order to get a chortle, and although you probably will not be laughing your hide off at least you'll like what you see just like you do when reading an old FERD'NAND or NANCY that connects you to your earliest memories giving your life some sorta constancy.

Yeah the art can get a bit into the same sorta plain-ness that one would find in the illustrations found in a mid-sixties issue of MECHANICS ILLUSTRATED (thinkin' Roy Doty but not the inspired plain-ness of Marvin Townsend) but  JUCIKA, especially after Pal's pen improved, was a rather good on the eyes cartoon that would have had some mighty international appeal had the Cold War been just a tad warmer. 

The sunbathing and cleavage gags usually hit the spot even if some help might be needed in giving us at least a little insight into sixties Hungary as well as what them words that appear on signs actually mean (sometimes the Twitter comments are a tad insightful).  Sheesh, JUCIKA is probably the only pantomime comic strip that needs a translator! Of course, with the nice artwork and the sly gags who's gonna really crybaby about it one iota unless one's part of the stuck up feminist/pussy whip crowd that seems to be wielding a whole load of power here in what I still like to call the "Boring Twenties"! 

Check the link onna left, and although I wouldn't exactly say that JUCIKA's watcha'd call "safe for work" it might be worth getting fired for if only to tick off your "Affirmative Action" female superior once she gets an eyefulla what you're really doing 'stead of your job!

By the way, I actually ordered the book containing the earliest of strips "translated into English" and if it ever arrives I'll give you the complete and undoubtedly sexist lowdown on it.

I dunno (or care) what you think, but I get the sneakin' suspicion (like a whole slew of pundits I've been coming across) that all of the indictments and trials that Donald Trump is and will be going through (all purely political moves which is fine by me because the precedent has been set for the likes of Trump et. al. to use them same rules against their enemies once the mode of the music changes) are going to boomerang bigtime making the whole idea of burying him for good yet another one of those pipe dreams some of you more altruistic jerks tend to go through. Here's hoping Trump does come out of it intact enough to rule again in '25 (unless they abolish Article Two Section One and John Derbyshire decides to go for it), though I sure hope he doesn't make the same rather humongous mistakes he did the first go 'round and hire all those neocons and bubble-headed establishment types who were either political retards or slimy backstabbers (something that I sure know about firsthand)! 

But then, until the fateful day when the real revolution's won and all of the badskis who've ruined this country for the past 100 or so years are properly "dispatched", I can only hope that either Hungary or Poland invades the USA and the likes of Viktor Orban (wuz gonna say Meloni but she's too refugee happy for my tastes) is firmly taking care of biz. At this stage of the game an annexation is probably the only thing that will at least help delay the huge scream mankind will bellow once it's all over, at least by a few years or so.

Tis a nice assortment of goodies I have on hand today, some care of Robert Forward (who also sent me a copy of the Nihilist Spasm Band's NO RECORD album oblivious to the honest to goodness fact that I already reviewed that 'un a few years back --- shame on ya fer not paying attention and also shame on ya for sending me that irksome cringefest of a Lydia Lunch disc!), others via Paul McGarry (whose own romper room kinda reminds me of them old record stores I loved pouring through a long time ago), as well as two from P.D. Fadensonnen who shuffled 'em off back Christmas way but I only found 'em now amidst the rubble that just seems to be getting higher and higher. Future cleaning endeavors might find more long-lost gems, but then again maybe not.

John Coltrane with Eric Dolphy-EVENINGS AT THE VILLAGE GATE CD-r burn (originally on Impulse Records)

Never even knew this '61 live show had been recently unleashed so thanks be to Mr. Forward for making up for that Lydia Lunch fiasco and doin' a li'l enlightening for the benefit of my own grey room. Coltrane is, howshallIsay, Coltrane enough for me (though I kinda feel queasy inside liking his music knowing that above-it-alls like Grace Slick and Jim Morrison also did) while Dolphy adds more than the necessary accents 'n other musical descriptors with his flute and bass clarinet, making me wonder if that bump on the head was actually caused due to him being such a genius that his grey matter just hadda expand

If previous spins of such notables as "Impressions" and "Africa" sent tingles through your musical psyche these new listens will only add to that long-standing love you have for the sixties new thing. Glad Mr. Forward only sent me a copy of the inner/outer cover with this, 'cause thankfully I will not have to read Branford Marsalis' liner notes.


Various Artists-1960s PSYCHEDELIC RADIO COMMERCIALS CD-r burn (originally on Rock Beat Records)

Another one of them collections of old teenbo-oriented radio commercials from the days when being a high stooler really meant something! Nothing here but loads of radio ads, some that were bound to get your folks switching the station what with the heavy concentration on the more, er, lysergic aspects of the quest being presented to a buncha mid-teens who didn't know any better. 

There's a whole passel of goodies here from the infamous Jefferson Airplane Levis ad (and in case you forgot, I'd sure love to hear the one the Flamin' Groovies submitted) to the Linda Ronstadt/Frank Zappa Remington Electric Razor collab (best thing ol' reconstructed nostril gal ever did). Of course who could forget such legendary commercials as the Troggs for Miller Beer, Stones for Rice Krispies, Happenings, Cream's Falstaff ad, Pete Townshend for the USAF etc. and so forth! You even get some ads for teensploitation flix and local hangouts, the kind your parents would never let you go to but it was fun to hear these ads anyway while you were padlocked in your room. 

The Teenage/Industrial Complex was producing some mighty fine commercials during the sixties unlike it would only a few sick years later when alla that "Peace Train" and BLESS THE BEASTS AND CHILDREN shit set the pace for the reams of world saver yammering we hafta put up with today. And as for alla you people who were fortunate enough live through it all well, goody good good for you!


The Vibrators with Chris Spedding-MARS CASINO CD-r burn (originally on Cleopatra Records)

This is the return meeting of Spedding and the Vibrators, two entities that have seen better days well over forty years ago but I don't think that the aging audience this platter was made for minds one bit. There ain't much here that I would say's outta the ordinary or life-reaffirming, but for what it is it's a fairly standard and somewhat entertaining rock 'n roll recording that sounds much better'n 99.999...% of the drek that has passed for teenage music these past fiftysome years. Only track to really give me the stand up and notice treatment: the dirge-y neo folk rocker "Passing of Days".


Ruby and the Rednecks-LIVE AGAIN! AT CBGB'S CD (Pu Pu Platter Records)

Howcum that Ruby and the Rednecks never released a record during the seventies and then as soon as the centuries switched she not only put out one but two (maybe even more!) platters that really woulda had some sorta impact way back when! Well fer one thing this live set sure woulda sounded swell had it only made its way to our turntables back 1976 way! Lively, rollicking and everything that we thought that glam glitter punkism was s'posed to sound like, this mid-oughts effort really did bring back the better moments of seventies rock 'n roll at its finest and proved that some of them old timey types thankfully still had it all stored up in their amphetamine-drenched veins. 

Ruby's a great frontgal. The lady really knows how to work up an audience with some snatty between-song repartee which works its way into some surprisingly straight-ahead rock 'n roll that only sounds all the better given the definitely anti rock climate we've had to suffer through ever since. Now Ruby's got a voice that some of you might need getting used to, but then again if you're a fan of Annisette like moi you should like her warbling quite a whole lot. 

The music recalls not only the Dolls (in fact "Lonestar Queen" gets worked out here!) but a good portion of the better portion of the punk pre "punque" groups who were lumping on a whole load of rockist ideals closer to the Lenny Kaye than Robert Christgau credo. If you were one who drooled over those seventies groups that liked to dip their pinkies into the font of them sixties outta nowhere hits you'll wish that this 'un was like the latest Bomp! release to snuggle next to those Iggy and Groovies spinners that helped mold your sense of musical appreciation.

Not only all that but Ruby really proves herself a Little Miss Dynamite with her entire front and centerness for mere being that is so forceful and energy personified that she makes Janis sound like a boozed up floozie who thought she was headin' for the local lesbian bar but she was so outta it she was actually at a church bingo!

If you've seen alla them Ruby videos on Youtube and would like even more, then try snatching this pretty inexpensive (when you can find it!) spinner up. It would be worth your while and hey, have I ever steered any of you wrong other'n on purpose???


Peter James Taylor-SELECTED WORKS CD-r burn (can't find a label or even any direct reference to this 'un a-tall!)

Good thing this guy has the first name "Peter" or else I woulda thought this to've been a recording by some well-known catatonic "sensitive junkie" who managed to make it out of the seventies alive, unfortunately that is. But nod out notions aside there's not much to go by on the web regarding this British composer who (as the liner notes say) works in the same guitar realm as a number of eighties-vintage experimental composers who also worked with multi-layered guitar play, most obviously Glenn Branca and Rhys Chatham. 

Because of the close proximities I wouldn't say there was anything that awe-inspiring special about Taylor's work that would radically differentiate it from the likes of Branca or Chatham, but it sure done made for a fine listening sit down if you're prone to that sort of heavily rhythmic electronic experimental guitar sound. Fave of the bunch --- track #4 "Stolen Constanance" which is almost indistinguishable from those Remko Scha self-generating sculpture works that just got rid of the players and let chance take its electrifying course!


Gram Parsons with the Flying Burrito Brothers-ARCHIVE VOL. 1, LIVE AT THE AVALON BALLROOM 1969 2 CD-r set burn (originally on Amoeba Records)

Surprisingly rockin' live album with not only some inspiring for the times non-1969-styled rockers but that C&W twang that I get the feeling really offended them fans who hated the mop top brigade. Probably thought that they were being made fun of like my mother did with alla that "Winchester Cathedral"/"Dream a Little Dream of Me" yowzah stuff. 

This late-sixties countrified Byrds 'n related music never really hit me where the musical appreciation counts (perhaps I associated it with alla that Cocaine Karma Eagles/Linda/Laurel Canyon denim and shaggy whole wheat music that ROLLING STONE banked their buckskins on), but when this effort charges on all rock 'n roll cylinders it sure comes off as a pleasant respite from alla that hippoid jive that helped ruin an honest and true-to-teenbo form musical genre and for good at that!

So I guess that sixties rock 'n roll energies did linger on a whole lot longer than I would have thought. Good enough that it makes me kinda ashamed that I ignored the Burritos thinking they were nothing but Eagles Mark Two for a really hefty portion of my existence.


Albert King and Stevie Ray Vaughn-IN SESSION CD-r burn (originally on Stax Records)

Like with reggae, it ain't like I hate most of the more modern renditions of the blues that I hear but, it just ain't like I would wanna particularly listen to any of it on them cold winter nights with a nice book and some hot toddy. Besides, I always considered Stevie Ray Vaughn one of them obnoxious white guy bluesers from the eighties that the tough working class leather beretsters went for with a passion at the expense of something more gritty and therefore palatable, like the really early backwoods one-string guitar variety of the form. 

After listening to this I get the feeling that Vaughn was playing with King only to get some of those extra blues brownie points to build up his credo the same way a few misguided souls believed Thurston Moore did the exact same thing playing with various free guys across the avant garde spectrum. But for those of you who still do have a shard of curiosity --- to sorta misquote Lou Costello, it's there for ya!


Jair-Rohm Parker Wells Trio-BROTHERLY LOVE IN PHILADELPHIA CD-r burn (originally on Ayler Records, Sweden)

Former Machine Gun bass guitarist Wells brings his instrument to this trio giving the standard sax/bass/drums lineup a pretty moving groove that works its way into funk realms thanks to the electronic ka-boomba. Not that there's anything here to distinguish itself from the many similar freeplay excursions that have been issued since day uno, but for being a fairly recent (2008) effort that certainly ain't of the tux 'n tails jazz variety well... I'd still tell ya to give it a whirl because when music like this gets into the proper frame of o-mind there's no stopping it from boring its way directly into your head. If only they dismissed with the sax player's free verse (let's just say he ain't no Archie Shepp) this woulda been given a few more stars! This 'un's definitely worth whatever effort you can put into getting a free burn off the internet.


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