On this day in history...

Pour one out for the old boy! James Joyce died sixty-eight years ago today.

Fancy Fluffy Lady

I know this isn't really a forum for personal news ... but I have a new cat. Her name is Penelope.

She is a total babe.

She appreciates belly rubs.

and enjoys games that simulate the action and intensity of "the kill."

Corpse Groom

In Memory of the Late Mr. and Mrs. Comfort by Richard Avedon






You can see the whole New Yorker series HERE.

Also check out Avedon's own website. The portrait section is pretty excellent. Personal faves are The Family series, the Literature section, and the John Ford portrait in Film.

Oscar Season is here / gay zombie movie

From Bruce LaBruce, maker of Give Piece of Ass A Chance and The Raspberry Reich:

A young zombie named Otto appears on a remote highway. He has no idea where he came from or where he is going. After hitching a ride to Berlin and nesting in an abandoned amusement park, he begins to explore the city. Soon he is discovered by underground filmmaker Medea Yarn, who begins to make a documentary about him with the support of her girlfriend, Hella Bent, and her brother Adolf, who operates the camera. Meanwhile, Medea is trying to finish "Up with Dead People," the epic political-porno-zombie movie that she has been working on for years. She convinces its star, Fritz Fritze, to allow the vulnerable Otto to stay in his guest bedroom. When Otto discovers that there is a wallet in his back pocket that contains information about his past, before he was dead, he begins to remember a few details, including memories of his ex-boyfriend, Rudolf. He arranges to meet him at the schoolyard where they met, with devastating results.

Otto; or Up with Dead People:

God Bless Tiny Tim

I remember hearing about Tiny Tim when I was younger, but I didn't really look into who he was until recently when I discovered that an incredible recording of "Fill Your Heart" by Biff Rose used in the documentary Charles Manson Superstar was Tiny Tim's. Here is the recording:



Tiny Tim was a very unique person, a consummate showman trapped in a large, neurotic man-child. Here is a nice little biographical essay:

Hello, stranger

In his own words:

'My greatest unfulfilled ambition...is to be one of the astronauts or even the first singer on the Moon. But most of all, I'd love to see Christ come back to crush the spirit of hate and make men put down their guns. I'd also like just one more hit single.'

Amen.

Performance, Androgyny, Orgasm, Death

David Bowie is perhaps most well known for his ability to genre-hop, but to me what is actually most interesting about him is his discernible, but not entirely explicable, continuity. Like Dylan, people constantly try to peg him as this, that, or neither, but in reality, he's an entertainer, and any other insights into who lurks behind the curtain are doomed to fabrication (as is your own life). This does not, however, nullify or erase the fact that these men are devastatingly insightful, both possessing a terrific grasp of irony as well as a grand capacity for manipulation (albeit benign enough).

The following clip is from the 1973 D.A. Pennebaker documentary Ziggy Stardust & The Spiders From Mars. Essentially a very straightforward concert video (as straightforward as the final show on one of the most legendary tours ever can be), Ziggy is a nice counterpoint to Dont Look Back, which shows a rambunctious Dylan alternately reveling in and tiring of being under the lens constantly. Bowie, on the other hand, very calmly sits smoking backstage as his make-up artist meticulously puts on his face. Just about the only quip we get from a placid and focused Bowie is a sharp "You're just a girl, what do you know about make-up," directed at someone named Angie who very briefly appears backstage. Indeed, there is a chanteuse-like calm and gravity to Bowie (the '70s?) in this film that contrasts well with the wit, anxiety, and "boyish impetuosity" (what movie!?) we see Dylan (the '60s?) constantly exuding in Dont Look Back mostly off- and backstage.

Other expository points:

• Both men look great with a cigarette.
• Bowie wrote a song about Dylan in 1971. Dylan never reciprocated (unless "Ballad Of A Thin Man" somehow proves that Dylan is as sagacious [and bitter] as he sometimes seems).
• Dylan's given name was Robert Allen Zimmerman. Bowie's given name was David Robert Jones. Both men (obviously) changed their last names, however Bowie didn't change his until 1966, one year before his first record was to be released on Decca, the reason being he did not want to be mixed up with the Monkee.
  

SO, this clip is of Bowie performing an English version of Jacques Brel's "La Mort," or as Bowie re-named it, "My Death." Bowie was fond of covering the songs of his peers (1973's raucous Pin-Ups is all covers), but the only one that charted was his jaunty version of the Jagger/Richards song, "Let's Spend The Night Together," which appears on Aladdin Sane (released the same fucking year). THIS cover, however, I think is his most captivating, not simply as a song or cover, but as a performance. And considering the fact that he subsequently announces that night, to the surprise of his band, that it would be the last show they would ever play, it takes on new meaning.



Final point: Performers always like to leave certain lyrics to the audience. Not only does it bring performer and audience together, but it strokes the performer's ego like a lubricated fist or finger. That being said, I think both realities are intensified here at the close of the song, when the audience claims to be that bitch in front of the door behind which lies his death. Just saying.

Dream, Dream, Dream

A haunting clip from Ingmar Bergman's Hour of the Wolf:



Can anyone think of another director or specific film that focuses on dream sequences. I've been poking around but there's a lot of mediocre dream movies and literature to sift through.

Crazy Love

***Major Dark Knight plot spoilers in this post - fair warning***

Some quick thoughts on The Dark Knight:

A morbid pall has settled over Gotham City. Death, both literal and figurative, is everywhere in The Dark Knight and in a twisted bit of irony, the man who emerges as the city's most ruthless killer is also its most vibrant citizen. Heath Ledger's Joker, in juxtaposition to Bale's ascetic vigilante, is relentlessly, breathtakingly, unapologetically alive.

Whereas Bruce Wayne hides his humanity behind Batman's cowl and hoarse whisper, the Joker gleefully accentuates his hideous Chelsea grin with garish make-up, and enthusiastically re-imagines the origin of his scars at every opportunity. In a city where both heroes and villains are studiously discreet, the Joker wears his heart on his sleeve and wonders aloud why no one else has the courage to do the same.

"It's simple - kill the Batman," the Joker advises Gotham's criminal elite when they complain. Remove the obstacle that stands between you and your goal. Advance confidently in the direction of your dreams. Be all you can be. He not busy being born is busy dying....

And poor Bruce Wayne, more than any mobster, he wants Batman gone forever.

Gotham does not need Bruce Wayne the man, only Batman the hero and when the rise of Harvey Dent offers him a way out, Wayne tries to shift the burden of incorruptibly onto Dent's shoulders. As long as Dent is acting as Gotham's white knight, Wayne thinks he is free to make the choice that Batman never could: he can choose his happiness over that of others. It is a completely selfish, wonderfully human act. But after Rachel's murder leaves Dent shattered, Wayne dons his costume and Batman retakes his place as Gotham's savior. This time, freed of his hopes for normalcy, he is - like the Joker - wholly himself.

Absolutes of any kind are kindred spirits and from the other end of the moral spectrum the Joker recognizes the Batman as his match. Both are incorruptible in their own way. Alone with Batman, the Joker earnestly reveals himself to his rival. "I don't want to kill you," and almost tenderly, "you complete me." Coming from Gotham's louche jester this should be another taunting joke, but instead it resonates as an admission of vulnerability and desire - something that Bruce Wayne, burdened by the demands of his alter ego, was never able to sincerely make to anyone.

In the end, it isn't honor or justice that prevents Batman from killing the Joker, but the private admission that in the Joker he sees what he always wished he could have been himself: an idealist who doesn't need a mask.

Watching the World Burn

By this point anything you read about The Dark Knight is bound to be full of spoilers, but if you haven't seen Christopher Nolan's beautiful thriller yet and are looking for some solid, spoiler free previews to whet your appetite, I recommend David M. Halbfinger's March 9 article "Batman's Burden."



A few hours removed from my first viewing, I think that a second viewing might be in order before I write a full review. Suffice to say that Nolan's film is an impressive and ambitious addition to not only the comic book film pantheon but to the crime genre in general - a tightly woven, scarily realistic morality play about the role of chaos in our fair play obsessed culture.

Go see it and we can all talk about it....

So, You Wanna Be Hardcore?

Check out "A Blaze in the North American Sky" by Brandon Stosuy (Stereogum, Pitchfork) in the July/August issue of The Believer. Stosuy provides a brief retrospective on the murder and arson tainted Norwegian black metal scene, explores the distinction between black and death metal, and muses on the sociological importance of the US black metal scene. Compelling stuff.

Or check out this little radio interview.



"We refuse to comment on details but let's just say that we are not normal people."

Disturbing stuff. I'm sticking with R&B.

Making Headlines - Complete

The complete headlines from the "Ballads" section of Harry Smith's Anthology of American Folk Music. Outside links to the recordings provided beneath the headline when available; all songs 1927-1932.

Henry Lee - Dick Justice
Fatal Flower Garden - Nelstone's Hawaiians

The House Carpenter - Clarence Ashley
Drunkard's Special - Coley Jones
Old Lady and the Devil - Bill and Belle Reed
The Butcher's Boy (The Railroad Boy) - Buell Kazee
The Wagoner's Lad - Buell Kazee
King Kong Kitchie Kitchie Ki-Me-O - Chubby Parker
Old Shoes and Leggins - Uncle Eck Dunford
Willie Moore - Burnett and Rutherford
A Lazy Farmer Boy - Buster Carter and Preston Young
Peg and Awl - Carolina Tar Heels
Ommie Wise - G.B. Grayson
Bandit Cole Younger - Edward L. Crain
My Name is John Johanna - Kelly Harrell
Charles Giteau - Kelly Harrell
John Hardy Was a Desperate Little Man - The Carter Family
Gonna Die With My Hammer in My Hands - Williamson Brothers and Curry
Stackalee - Frank Hutchison
White House Blues - Charlie Poole w/ The North Carolina Ramblers
Frankie - Mississippi John Hurt
When that Great Ship Went Down - William and Versey Smith
Engine One-Forty-Three - The Carter Family
Kassie Jones - Furry Lewis (link is to Lewis in '68)
Down on Penny's Farm - The Bently Boys
Mississippi Boweavil Blues - The Masked Marvel a.k.a Charley Patton
Got the Farmland Blues - The Carolina Tar Heels

Making Headlines

... coming up next time:

PBR & Pringles

After reading the lovely piece about the man who plans to be buried in a PBR-can coffin, I thought I'd share another strange news article about brand name burials.

The inventor of the Pringles can was buried in a Pringles can.