Along with Dangerous Minds, it’s Harry Dean Stanton’s birthday. Hard to believe that he’s 85 years old.
Here’s an amusing and rare clip of Harry in A Fistful Of Dollars.
When A Fistful Of Dollars was aired on the ABC Sunday Night Movie in 1977 network execs felt a prologue needed to be shot to give Clint Eastwood’s character less of an amoral edge. They wanted there to be some clearly defined motivation for the carnage that followed in Sergio Leone’s existential western. Thus, they hired director Monte Hellman (Two Lane Blacktop) to create this intro with Stanton (who appears nowhere else in the movie) and a stand-in for Eastwood.
Neither Leone or Eastwood had anything to do with this scene. The reaction shots of Eastwood were inserted using footage from other scenes in the film. This results in some unintended humor.
The “Bop Gun” was an imaginary weapon, theorized by George Clinton, leader of Parliment, on their 1977 album, Funkentelechy vs. The Placebo Syndrome”. The “Bop Gun” would fill the being of the soulless automatons moving robotically through modern life with FUNK and dancing would be inevitable.
Finally the conundrum of the universes’ missing funk has an answer: BOP GUN.
5 mixed squarewave oscillators allow for rapid phase matching and total funky collapse of even the most complex wave functions!
LFO modulates filter! All oscillators, LFO and filter are controlled by global attack/decay functions at the pull of a trigger! INVERT function allows for continuous function for those situations requiring fancy long-term funkic interventions. Funkify traffic! Passers-by! Bar Mitzvahs! The sky!
LED feedback ring at the business end reacts to funk levels, providing photonic enhancement in attractive aqua green tones. Extra-sweet readout panel provides incomprehensible feedback from selected functions. Audio output jack included, and batteries fit in the handle.
Below, Glen Goins, the Parliament singer famous for “calling in the Mothership” during their elaborate concerts, explains the “Bop Gun” concept to this Houston crowd during a 1977 performance:
There seems to be some confusion: This October will see the release of The Thing, which is, apparently, a prequel to John Carpenter’s The Thing. If that’s the case, then I’ll save my dollars as I know the ending - everyone is killed except an Alaskan Malamute that escapes (after a disastrous helicopter chase) and infects Kurt Russell’s science station with an alien life form.
If it’s a remake, well - why bother?
John Carpenter’s The Thing was a remake of Howard Hawks’ classic 1951 film The Thing From Another World.
Hawks’s original was an unforgettable classic, an adaption of John Wood Campbell, Jr.‘s fanastic short story, “Who Goes There?” - and is one of the greatest science fiction movies of the 1950s (along with Them!, Inavders from Mars and Invasion of the Body Snatchers).
As for Carpenter’s remake, I thought it one of the best films of 1982 - it reinvented the original, gave it a dark, terrifying twist, and had incredible special effects by Rob Bottin (and Stan Winston).
So now, here’s a new version, which leaves me thinking “O, FFS,” as it again confirms Hollywood’s bankruptcy of ideas , and the unwillingness or inability to invest in new talent, new ideas, and new scripts. But make your own mind up - here’s the trailer and the official synopsis:
Antarctica: an extraordinary continent of awesome beauty. It is also home to an isolated outpost where a discovery full of scientific possibility becomes a mission of survival when an alien is unearthed by a crew of international scientists. The shape-shifting creature, accidentally unleashed at this marooned colony, has the ability to turn itself into a perfect replica of any living being. It can look just like you or me, but inside, it remains inhuman. In the thriller The Thing, paranoia spreads like an epidemic among a group of researchers as they’re infected, one by one, by a mystery from another planet.
Paleontologist Kate Lloyd (Mary Elizabeth Winstead) has traveled to the desolate region for the expedition of her lifetime. Joining a Norwegian scientific team that has stumbled across an extraterrestrial ship buried in the ice, she discovers an organism that seems to have died in the crash eons ago. But it is about to wake up.
When a simple experiment frees the alien from its frozen prison, Kate must join the crew’s pilot, Carter (Joel Edgerton), to keep it from killing them off one at a time. And in this vast, intense land, a parasite that can mimic anything it touches will pit human against human as it tries to survive and flourish.
Graphic design company The Library created these ads for Australian printing company Colour Chiefs. The models are wearing printing machine parts as their costumes…ready for the digital Pow Wow. Nicely done. Cyber punk meets the classic Native American portraits of Edward S. Curtis.
Tuli Kupferberg - born September 28, 1923, died July 12, 2010
“You can have the men who make the laws/ Give me the music makers.” The Fugs.
I once bought a pair of sunglasses from Tuli Kupferberg, not because I needed them, but because I wanted to own something that belonged to a man who had changed my life.
When I was 15 (1966) I purchased The Fugs debut album at a People’s Drug Store in Fairfax, Virgina. I took it home, listened to it, and soon thereafter made my first pilgrimage to New York City’s Lower East Side. I wanted to be a part of the grime, squalor and divine decadence that the Fugs so poetically, mystically and hysterically evoked in their music. I wanted to walk among slum goddesses, dirty old men, Johnny Piss Off and the Belle of Avenue A. I wanted to join in on the ultimate group grope, to fill my brain with light and find my corner of bliss in a city that only a Fug could love. All because of a record album, all because of a band, all because of Tuli.
Tuli embodied the tattered and beautiful soul of NYC. He was the patron saint of the dark alleys and garbage strewn streets that lead to coldwater flats of wisdom and pleasure. In a town of cracked minds and bruised souls, Tuli was the wandering minstrel, the sage of the sewers, the calm presence in the maelstrom of sirens and sobs. He sang away the demons at the door and let his prose settle around us like a sweet cloak of tongue nectar.
In 1967, I marched with The Fugs and 70,000 people in Washington D.C to protest the Vietnam War. Tuli and Ginsberg led us in a mantric chant (Om Mani Padme Hum) in an effort to levitate The Pentagon, a building that my father, a military man, was inside of. What gave me this courage, if not the music and poetry of my heroes? Ginsberg, Leary, Kerouac, The Fugs, The Beatles.
Tuli was a peace activist, a holy warrior, who believed that when pamphlets and protests stop working, it’s time to invoke the Gods and Goddesses of loving kindness. If you can’t beat the death merchants with bullhorns and speeches, bring out the heavy artillery, call upon the armies of the astral plane to lay some Blakean magic on the motherfuckers.
Regarding Tuli’s contribution to the music scene over the past 5 decades, his influence on rock provocateurs, from Country Joe’s Fish Cheer to punks like the Meatmen, The Frogs and The Circle Jerks, I’ll leave that to those among us who care more about the specifics than I do. Yes, The Fugs inspired me to start a band called The Pits Of Passion and to write songs about getting my first blow job. I’m sure that without Tuli and The Fugs, I’d probably have never written my best known tune, “88 Lines About 44 Women.” There is no question The Fugs opened the field for all of us to spew our darkest deepest and filthiest thoughts, knowing that we weren’t alone in the flesh frenzy and fuck fest of absolute reality. The Fugs were arguably the first punk band. All good.
But, what I most want to remember about Tuli Kupferberg is the sweetness of the man, his humility and kindness and that, yes, it is possible to change the world with a guitar, a good hook, a few dozen dirty words and a whole lot of soul.
Ted Berrigan writing about Tuli:
I asked Tuli Kupferberg once, “Did you really jump off of The Manhattan Bridge?”
“Yeah,” he said, “I really did.” “How come?” I said.
“I thought that I had lost the ability to love,” Tuli said. “So, I figured I might as well be dead. So, I went one night to the top of The Manhattan Bridge, & after a few minutes, I jumped off.”
“That’s amazing,” I said.
“Yeah,” Tuli said, “but nothing happened. I landed in the water & I wasn’t dead. So I swam ashore, & went home, & took a bath, & went to bed. Nobody even noticed.”
The Germs’ Pat Smear & Lorna Doom get touchy-feely with lead singer Darby Crash in The New Wave
“Not exactly wholesome, you might say,” notes slick & laid-back narrator Andrew Amador at the end of this weird and rather incomplete look at the burgeoning new music scene in Los Angeles.
Inexplicably opening up with the highly New York sounds of Patti Smith’s version of “Gloria,” The New Wave seems to have been a quick segment put together by erstwhile TV host Amador and shot by someone called Andre Champagne. I wonder if and where it actually aired. It’s an interesting enough artifact in that it features:
Footage of The Germs with Darby Crash in full feathered-and-waxed Bowie mode
A Sunset Strip marquee within the first 30 seconds featuring Pasadena’s Van Halen!
A bit too much footage of The Quick’s heartthrob lead singer Danny Wilde dreaming of stardom. He’d later do the music scene proud by forming the Rembrandts and recording “I’ll Be There For You,” the fittingly excruciating theme for the TV show Friends.
Although a famous Vogue cover shot by Patrick Lichfield of Marsha Hunt, naked, with a huge Afro, as a London cast member of Hair is an indisputably and quintessentially iconic image of the 1960s, Hunt remains under the radar of most music fans. For one (quite good) reason, there are exactly zero CDs of her music on the market currently and there is nothing on iTunes either. This is too bad, because she made some worthwhile music during her career. However, some pretty great clips of her live on European TV have been popping up on YouTube and many of her better known singles have made it to some audio blogs, as well, so there’s plenty for me to illustrate here what still makes Hunt the object of cult fascination. Eventually, I have no doubt, she’ll be rediscovered by music nerds.
Hunt, an insanely gorgeous, highly intellectual 19-year-old model, originally from Philly, who went to Berkeley (and marched with Jerry Rubin!), moved to swinging London in 1966. She married Mike Ratledge of the Soft Machine so she could stay in the country (and is still married to him to this day, although they have not been together for decades) and sang back-up vocals for blues great Alexis Korner. She became a cast member of Hair, having but two lines as “Dionne” in the West End production.
Below, a clip of Marsha Hunt performing her cover version of Dr. John’s Walk on Gilded Splinters:
Next up, my favorite Marsha Hunt track (Oh No! Not) The Beast Day. To my ears this sounds way, way, way ahead if its time, reminding me (a lot) of Demon Days by the Gorillaz or mid-career Talking Heads. Turn this up LOUD, you’ll be really glad you did:
With David Cameron washing his hands of Murdoch to save his own neck, and these incredible new developments in America, the Murdoch machine looks increasingly fucked. I normally think GOP Rep. Peter King is an idiot, but I can’t quarrel with the fact that he’s a Republican taking on Murdoch and all that this implies. Respect! (Seriously)
WHAT are the couch potato patriots who watch Fox News going to make of the fact that the FBI is investigating News Corp?!?!?! This is astonishing!
The FBI has opened an investigation into allegations that media mogul Rupert Murdoch’s News Corporation sought to hack into the phones of September 11 victims, a law enforcement official has said.
The decision to investigate was made after US Congressman Peter King, a Republican, wrote to FBI director Robert Mueller demanding an investigation, said the official, who spoke to the Associated Press on condition of anonymity. The FBI had received letters from King and other members of Congress.
News Corporation, which is based in New York, has been in crisis mode because of a scandal that forced the News of the World to close last Sunday.
The Guardian reported last week that the News of the World had hacked into the phone of Milly Dowler in 2002 and may have impeded a police investigation into her disappearance.
More possible victims soon emerged: other child murder victims, 2005 London bombing victims, the families of dead soldiers and former prime minister Gordon Brown.
The FBI’s New York office did not immediately comment. There was no immediate response to a phone message left for News Corp. The US attorney’s office in Manhattan referred a call to the Department of Justice, which declined immediate comment.
On Thursday, Murdoch bowed to pressure from parliament as he and son James first declined – and then agreed – to appear next week before politicians investigating phone hacking.
Neil Wallis, a former News of the World executive editor, became the seventh person arrested by Scotland Yard relating to the inquiry into phone hacking at the now-defunct tabloid, whose closure was seen as an attempt to keep alive a bid for the highly profitable network BSkyB.
The seventh arrest! Seventh! This gets better every hour!