The mission statement of the person or persons behind Bread Face is “giving the people something they didn’t ask for.” So they started an Instagram in which a woman smushes her face into various types of bread. Mission accomplished!

That’s right, there are 15 posts, and every one is a little video of this one woman smushing her face into cornbread, King’s Hawaiian Sweet Rolls, naan bread, and so on. While she does it, a recent R&B hit plays in the background.

Kaiser roll:
 

A video posted by Bread Face (@breadfaceblog) on Sep 6, 2015 at 4:41pm PDT

 
Wonder Bread:
 

A video posted by Bread Face (@breadfaceblog) on Aug 18, 2015 at 8:47pm PDT

 
Challah bread:
 

A video posted by Bread Face (@breadfaceblog) on Sep 26, 2015 at 7:22am PDT

 
via Death & Taxes
 

Previously on Dangerous Minds:
Japanese ‘vagina bread’ is a real thing
Wonder Woman Sculpted From Wonder Bread

 
Special makeup effects artist Tom Savini was one of the early “rock stars” of horror make-up alongside notable names such as Dick Smith, Rick Baker, Rob Bottin, and Stan Winston. Savini connected with horror fans in the 80s not only because of his spectacular gore effects in films like Friday the 13th, Creepshow, The Burning, Maniac, The Prowler, and Dawn of the Dead, but because of his larger-than-life personality which was reflected in Fangoria magazine interviews and his (usually bit part) acting roles.
 

Tom Savini in George A. Romero’s “Dawn of the Dead”
 
Savini is undoubtedly responsible for inspiring an entire generation of oddball artists to go into the makeup FX field, and by extension, also responsible for the fortunes of liquid-latex manufacturers world-wide. His Grande Illusions books are standard issue for kids going into makeup FX. The man is a legend.
 

Savini creating Jason in “Friday the 13th”
 

Behind the scenes on “The Texas Chainsaw Massacre Part 2”
 
A new documentary has just been released on Savini. The film, titled Smoke and Mirrors, covers both his professional and personal life and features interviews with director George Romero, former proteges Greg Nicotero and Howard Berger, Jerry Only of The Misfits, and Night of the Living Dead actor “Chilly” Billy Cardille.
 
More after the jump…

Baphomet glass tree topper
 
The good folks over at Middle of Beyond have a pretty sweet collection of anti-Christmas decorations—but nothing says “fuck jolly old St. Nick” quite like a glass Baphomet or Cthulhu tree topper. Ah, being on the the naughty list really is the best. 
 

Cthulhu glass tree topper
 
Little Baphomet and this cutie Cthulhu are both 7.5 inches high and will run you $19.99 (which if you flip the nines around is $16.66, nice one Middle of Beyond). There are also a few other notable and refreshingly evil Christmas ornaments in MOB’s shop such as a variety of Krampus designs and a glass-blown homage to Room 237, the mythical room at the Overlook Hotel in Stanely Kubrick’s The Shining that gave the fascinating 2012 documentary film, Room 237 its title.
 

‘The Shining’ hotel key glass ornament
 

Glass Krampus devil tree topper

Previously on Dangerous Minds:
Cthulhu fhtagn: 2016’s ‘Lovecraftiana Calendar’ makes an eldritch Christmas gift

 
This is sad to hear: According to a message that he personally left on his Facebook page, Jamaican-born producer/dubmeister Lee “Scratch” Perry has (hopefully accidentally) burned his “secret laboratory” in Switzerland to the ground. He lost everything, including (according to another message he posted) master tapes. With an upcoming tour planned, Perry reached out to his fans for help with stagewear:

HALLO MY FANS
SOMETHNG VERY VERY SAD HAPPEND
I FORGOTT TO OUT A CANDLE AND MY WHOLE SECRET LABORATORY BURNED OUT.
MY WHOLE LIFE COLECTIONS,ARTS,MY MAGIC HATS, MY MAGIC BOOTS, ALL MY CRAZY SHOW OUTFITS AND COSTUMES:KING,POPE,GENERAL,MAGICIAN….. ALL MY ELECTRONICS AND STUDIO EQUIPMENT AND MY MAGIC MIC, BOOKS, MUSIK, CDS…
EVERYTHING GONE!!!!

I AM SO SAD AND MY WIFE IS SO MAD

[Not without justification, obviously!]
 

 
He continued:

TO MY ANGELS THAT ALWAYS GIVE ME PERFECT THINGS
IF YOU HAVE MADE SOMETHING FOR ME TO BRING IT TO THE SHOW WHEN IM IN YOUR AREA, IT WOULD BE SUPER IF YOU SEND THAT TO ME IN ADVANCE BY POST SO I CAN HAVE IT BEFORE I START WITH SHOWS IN MARCH, BECAUSE NOW IM GOING TO JAMAIKA AND WILL NOT HAVE THE TIME TO LOOK OR MAKE SPECIAL OUTFITS.
SEND ME A PRIVATE MESSAGE AND I WILL SEND YOU THE ADRESS.
ALSO WRITE ME WHERE YOU ARE LOCATED
THEN I WILL PUT YOU + ? ON THE GUESTLIST WHEN I COME TO YOUR AREA AND WITH BACKSTAGE ACSESS SO I CAN THANK YOU PERSONALY
GOD BLESS
LOVE £$P

The 79-year-old Jamaican alchemist who can apparently turn shit into gold—at least he knows how to make lemonade when life deals him all lemons—is reaching out to his fans and they are responding with offers of clothes, stage costumes and “Super Ape” headdresses.

A street mural artist in Brazil named Feoflp has already painted this tribute to Perry:
 

 
This isn’t the first time a fire has laid waste to one of Perry’s workspaces. In 1979, after months of erratic behavior that saw him cover nearly every surface inside his Black Ark studio in Kingston, Jamaica with a black magic marker, Perry claims that he burned the legendary backyard recording studio to the ground himself to exorcise it of evil spirits. Friends and family have later said that he was just being dramatic and that the fire had actually been caused by faulty electrical wiring in 1983.

After the jump, vintage 1970s footage of “Scratch” in action at the Black Ark…

 
This is a guest post by Jeanie Finlay, director of ORION: The Man Who Would Be King which comes out in limited release today via Sundance Selects. In cinemas and on VOD through all of the usual suspects: iTunes, Amazon, Direct TV, YouTube and elsewhere.

Ten years ago I was at a garage sale with my husband Steven in our hometown of Nottingham, England. On a stall filled with cheap ornaments and dog-eared paperbacks, standing proudly at the front of a box of faded vinyl records, we found this album:
 

 
Orion: Reborn. Sun Records. Collector’s gold vinyl. Release date on the back said 1979. No songs we’d ever heard of, but that cover… Who was this mysterious masked man, standing hand on hips, with his perfect raven hair and sta-press trousers? What the hell was his story?

We took the record home, put it on and within seconds the mystery deepened. Whoever this guy was, he sounded exactly–and I mean exactly—like Elvis. Except these weren’t songs that Elvis ever recorded, and there was no mention of the King on the record. But there was the fact of Sun Records and this odd story on the back sleeve about this guy called Orion Eckley Darnell and something about a coffin, and a book… Most of all, though, there was this guy in the blue rhinestone-studded mask with the voice of Elvis. I had to know more.
 

  

The story I uncovered was one of the strangest I’ve ever encountered. As a documentary-maker, I’ve long been fascinated with stories that peek under the surface of popular culture and the machinations of the music industry, or explore just how important music is in our lives. Stories like The Great Hip Hop Hoax–about two Scottish chancers who faked their way to a record deal by pretending to be American rappers; SOUND IT OUT about the very last record shop in my home town in Teesside or Goth Cruise a documentary about 150 goths (along with 2500 “norms”) taking a cruise in the sunshine to Bermuda.

But this story had it all. A roller coaster tale of the Nashville music scene in the wake of Elvis Presley’s death, taking in deception, a quest for success, a search for identity and ending in brutal and tragic murder.

Even if you’ve never heard of Orion, you probably know about the “Elvis is Alive” myth. What I uncovered was that the story of Orion is the story of how that myth got started. 
In the marketing offices of Sun Records, maverick producer Shelby Singleton came up with the plan to utilize the incredible pipes of Alabama singer Jimmy Ellis – a voice which was both a blessing and a curse to the singer. Ellis had found it hard to get a solid foothold in the industry because of the similarity of his voice to Elvis’ –a similarity which was wholly unpracticed. Jimmy didn’t try to sound like Elvis, he just did. That made it hard for any record company to use him.
 

 
Shelby had already tried one tack, dubbing Jimmy Ellis’ vocals uncredited onto the Jerry Lee Lewis tracks in the Sun catalog, releasing the recording under the name of Jerry Lee Lewis “and friends.” He’d leave it up to the audience to come to the conclusion –if they saw fit—that it might just be a previously unheard recording from the depths of the Sun vaults. After all, it sounded just like Elvis…

 

“I was born in Sun Records, in the studio.”

But it wasn’t until Shelby came across a novel by Georgia writer Gail Brewer Giorgio that the stars aligned for Jimmy Ellis.  Orion was the story of the world’s greatest rock star and how he fakes his own death. As a character, her “Orion” was not a million miles away from a certain Memphis-dwelling King. It was a fantasy that so easily could be true. A fantasy that could be made true… In a move that Shelby himself later described as “part madman, part genius,” Sun Records put a mask on Jimmy Ellis, rechristened him “Orion” and unleashed him on an unsuspecting world. In Jimmy Ellis, Shelby had “The Voice.” And the book gave him a name, and a backstory.
 

A copy of the letter announcing the name “ORION” for the first time. The mask was the beginning of the Orion mystery.

In May of 1979, one month after his announcement of the imminent arrival of “ORION,” Shelby Singleton sent the first single to the radio stations. The cuts were “Ebony Eyes” and “Honey,” but there was no label on either side. Shelby wanted to build the mystery. The voice was the thing. He knew that the moment they heard that voice, they would have a million questions. And they’d want to see the mouth it came from…
 

 
Orion’s first album was readied – but hit controversy when there were complaints about the depiction of the masked singer appearing to rise from the dead from an open casket. (It was replaced by the blue cover above, which was later to catch my eye.)

Orion was now out in the world. Performing across America, always in the mask, always in character (legend was that Shelby would fine Jimmy if he were caught not wearing the mask at any time). And the crowds came. Hundreds and thousands of them, many coming for that voice–and many simply coming for the fantasy, the fantasy that the thin mask kept precariously in place. But for Jimmy, it was a frustrating ride.
 

 
Orion traveled the world while on Sun–including, bizarrely, performing with Kiss in Germany—putting out seven albums on Sun in just five years, but Jimmy hated the mask; the gimmick that provided the all-important mystery was ultimately a trap.  He could never be himself.
 

“Look Me Up”

When the gimmick wore thin, Ellis discarded the mask. The fragile spell was broken – but Jimmy was free. However, he struggled to step out of the shadow of Presley and the voice he was “blessed and cursed” with. He tried out many different identities – Ellis James, Mister E – he put the mask back on, then took it off again - but he never really found the same bright spotlight again.
 

 
For the past four years, I have tracked down the people that were close to Orion to discover his story. The result is ORION: The Man Who Would Be King.

More ‘Orion: The Man Who Would Be King’ after the jump…

 
Today, the concept of putting your music on cassette tapes seems quaint, but in 1985, cassettes were the primary medium of exchange for those creating original material in the experimental music underground.

At the Internet Archive, you can access a trove of 30 gigabytes of underground music dating from the mid-1980s to the mid-1990s that originally had been committed to cassette and distributed in that form. According to the information provided with the archive, the genres include “tape experimentation, industrial, avant-garde, indy, rock, diy, subvertainment and auto-hypnotic materials.” However, a good portion of the archive “defies category, and has therefore not been given one.”

Warning: every tape is represented as a single mp3 file, and the music is completely unlabeled and untagged—that is to say, there is no artist or track information, except where it has been listed on the cassette cover, which are small and hard to read. If you like the element of surprise in your music, this archive may be for you, because there’s little way to know in advance what each cassette contains. I sampled some of the music and it reminded me quite a bit of listening to the legendary free-form radio station WFMU out of Hoboken.

If you want to download the entire archive, you can do so here, although it comes with a warning that this is a “very inefficient way to browse this collection.” If you’d like to sample individual cassettes, you can do so here.

Most of the tapes in this library were donated to the project by former CKLN FM radio host Myke Dyer in August of 2009. The original NOISE-ARCH site was hosted and maintained by Graham Stewart and Mark Lougheed.
 
via Factmag

Previously on Dangerous Minds:
Negativland fans rejoyce! 700+ episodes of Don Joyce’s radio show ‘Over the Edge’ available online

“Strangler in the Night” single by serial killer Albert DeSalvo (aka “The Boston Strangler”)
 
During the early 60s my old home town of Boston was terrorized by an ultra-violent serial killer dubbed “The Boston Strangler.” Once the alleged killer, Albert DeSalvo, was apprehended, fellow Bostonian Dick Levitan, a news reporter for long-running Boston talk radio station WEEI, was one of a few journalists allowed access to DeSalvo for interview purposes. DeSalvo was never actually convicted of any of the thirteen murders but was sentenced to life in prison for a series of rapes. He was found stabbed to death in the infirmary of what was then known as Walpole State prison in 1973.

In a very creepy and super strange twist in this infamous case, Levitan was paid an undisclosed sum by Astor Records for the rights to record a riff on the song “Strangers in the Night” (which was recorded by Frank Sinatra in 1966), called “Strangler in the Night.” The lyrics for “Strangler in the Night” were culled by Levitan from an interview he conducted with DeSalvo after he was arrested and Levitan himself even lends his voice to the spoken word track that was performed along with musical accompaniment by a band from Marlboro, Massachusetts called “The Bugs.” This wasn’t the only time details of DeSalvo’s horrific exploits were pressed into a record: 1969’s “Midnight Rambler” by The Rolling Stones is also loosely based on the Strangler’s killing spree.
 

The sleeve for “Strangler in the Night”
 
Creepier still is the fact that you can actually own a piece of this super bizarre piece of dark history as the single (whose B-side features the song “Albert Albert” by The Bugs about DeSalvo’s crime spree) is currently up for sale for the tidy sum of $127.20 over on Etsy. At the time of this writing there are also a few kicking around on eBay (which includes a reproduction of DeSalvo’s signature on the sleeve) if collecting this kind of messed up memorabilia is your thing. You can listen to the recording after the jump. If you need me, I’ll be under the bed…

 
Back in 1992, when I was still in short pants and an egg cream cost a nickel, William S. Burroughs put in a guest appearance on Ministry’s then brand new single about heroin addiction. There he intoned: “SMASH THE CONTROL IMAGES. SMASH THE CONTROL MACHINE.” It was an exciting time to be alive. Extry! Extry! cried the newsboy on the corner. Homosexual narcotics fiend records with clown prince of industrial metal! Read all about it!

As always, Burroughs offered sage counsel, but smashing the control machine was easier said than done! In those days, the job required a stickball bat or a ball-peen hammer, and then there were the hazards of the cathode ray tube to contend with. I would have to wait a full decade before a good, wise, industrious inventor named Mitch Altman solved this problem with his TV-B-Gone, a special universal remote control for TVs. What’s so special about it, you say? It only has one button: OFF.
 

 
I don’t think I have to spell out the ways you, the suave and cunning Dangerous Minds reader, might use this device for mischief around the house. Let’s face facts: if you can’t figure out how to irritate friends, bewilder relatives, or enrage enemies with a universal off switch for TVs, pranks just might not be “your bag.”

But it’s the public applications of this device that interest me. Say, friend: how do you like it when strangers bombard your personal nervous system with upsetting lights and sounds, to say nothing of falsehoods and wrong opinions? Because I myself do not care for it. No, when I think of all the times I’ve been stuck in an urgent care waiting room listening to Judge Judy scream, sipping weak coffee from a Styrofoam cup at the mechanic while Dr. Phil takes a word solo, on the treadmill at the gym while Fox & Friends blather on like nincompoops, scrambling the brainwaves of senior citizens, or “eating” “lunch” in Baja Fresh as the National Speed Cutting Chainsaw Championship unfolds on several 65” HDTV screens simultaneously, I want to commit murder. 

Happily for me and the rest of the human family, there is a nonviolent solution. Point this little keychain gadget and CLICK! Darkness. Silence. Peace. At $19.99, the TV-B-Gone is one of my favorite stocking stuffers, but not for long. Last month, Altman’s email bulletin announced: “this is the last holiday season that you or anyone will be able to buy a TV-B-Gone remote control.” Make haste to Cornfield Electronics to buy the last crop of these suckers before they are discontinued. The handy among you might prefer Cornfield’s DIY kit (or Adafruit’s, or Make’s), but all are very close in price to the pre-assembled gizmo.

After the jump, TV-B-Gone inventor Mitch Altman speaks about hackerspaces at TEDx Brussels…

 
Fresh from making his cinematic debut with The Great Rock ‘n’ Roll Swindle, director Julien Temple wrote and directed this short promotional film Punk Can Take It for punk band the U.K. Subs. 

The promo mixed live performances—shot during the U.K. Subs’ tour to promote the single “Stranglehold”—with a comedic pastiche of Temple’s source material—a Second World War propaganda film London Can Take It, which had shown the plucky Londoners’ resilience to Germany’s bombing campaign. In Temple’s film the U.K. Subs provided the “symphony of war” while Eddie Tudor Pole and Helen Wellington-Lloyd are embattled punks fighting for victory against crass blood-sucking commercialization of the music they love:

Punk is dead. Long live Mod. Or, should that be Rude Boys or Teds?

How often have you heard the enemy make this fatuous claim? Seeking to transmute the volatile energies of punk into safe commercial profits, an unholy alliance of ageing rock stars and child-molesting media businessmen have exhumed the faded fashions of the fifties and sixties.

But punk won’t go away. And punks themselves are becoming younger and nastier everyday. Punks are the shock troops of the eighties. The children of the oil crisis, they have no time for the vicarious thrills of nostalgia or for its trivial rules

.

The U.K. Subs (short for “Subversives”) were among the original bands who led the British punk charge in 1976. Still performing and recording today, this film captures the Subs at an early high point in their career under the pairing of Charlie Harper (vocals) and Nicky Garratt (guitar) who created a blistering output between 1979-1982.
 

 
No, this is not Judy Garland auditioning for the part of “Crazy Eyes” in the original 1938 Orange is the New Black.

It’s amazing that this was not considered unusual in 1938. Two years before she became an immortal megastar with The Wizard Of Oz, Judy Garland performed in blackface in Everybody Sing. This is one of the many ways that Hollywood helped institutionalize racism and there she is, America’s sweetheart, dancing around like a nappy-headed Golliwog and singing goofy lyrics about Uncle Tom’s Cabin! (The year before this, Garland did a number in Babes in Arms as a light-skinned black girl complete with an entire blackface men’s chorus.)

As jaw-dropping as this is, Garland and other performers (like Al Jolson and Mickey Rooney) obviously weren’t conscious of how history would perceive this sort of thing. D.W. Griffiths’ controversial 1916 Birth of a Nation (original title The Clansman) is regarded today as much as an example of a historically significant silent film epic as it is a record of what beastly and commonly held attitudes towards blacks, slavery and the Civil War that Americans held and that Hollywood was portraying well into the 20th Century! (The Ku Klux Klan were the good guys in what is, adjusted for historical and present day monetary value, a film that’s only truly been bested at the box office by Titanic and Avatar.)

In 1938 blackface was still a completely acceptable theatrical convention. But today’s Hollywood knows exactly what it’s doing. Case in point: This year’s No Escape, a xenophobic gore fest starring Owen Wilson in which the bad guys are hordes of bloodthirsty generic Asians from an unnamed country (it’s Thailand). Anybody who isn’t white in No Escape is deadly, faceless and you know, simply brown-skinned. Racism still lives and thrives in Hollywood.
 

Owen Wilson and the Yellow Peril.
 
Coming soon: Adam Sandler’s Ridiculous Six, in which the terrifically unfunny “funnyman” pokes fun at Redskins. I really thought we had outgrown this kind of tone deaf bullshit. You can thank Netflix for bankrolling this turd. We’ll never know if this will be the box office bomb that most of Sandler’s films have been in recent years because Netflix doesn’t publicize any numbers, particularly when something fails.
 

Rob fucking Schneider finally gets a gig… as a Native American?!
 
In light of the recent events in Paris and San Bernadino County, I fully expect a glut of Hollywood movies in which Muslims will be brutally dispensed with as casually as those savage Injuns in the old cowboy movies. But why be surprised? We’re living in a nation where we award prizes to movies like Zero Dark Thirty, which was nothing more than CIA propaganda with a pro-torture agenda. We were meant to feel more for angsty CIA sadist Jessica Chastain than the innocent victims of waterboarding. None of whom, despite what the film would like you to believe, gave up Osama Bin Laden.

Yes, Hollywood is and always has been a useful propaganda tool. Hell, when the hippies started to make waves they killed off two of them in Easy Rider and a whole fucking commune in Joe. Damn peaceniks!
 

 
So yeah this Judy Garland clip is wildly racist—dig the post song scene—but have things really changed that much? I fully expect that the critically praised Beasts of No Nation will be celebrated and receive several awards this season. It’s a well-crafted film with some terrific performances. It’s also a shallow depiction of the brutal violence taking place in West Africa and virtually every African character in the film is a murdering sociopath. What drives the violence is never dealt with in any significant manner. Who cares about that? The movie’s main function seems to be violence for violence’s sake. “Things are hell in parts of Africa.” Period. End of fucking story. The last time I saw a film that depicted Africans as one homogeneous killing machine was Ridley Scott’s lamentable Black Hawk Down. At least the racism in Everybody Sing is out in the open. The new blackface is harder to see, but it’s there.