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  • Is this the most depraved toy, ever? Meet the Sinful Dwarf plush doll!
    10:13 am

    Pop Culture

    The Sinful Dwarf

    When I posted about the oddball/disgusting 1973 Danish cinematic trash epic known as The Sinful Dwarf last year, I started off with the disclaimer that I felt kinda bad for inflicting such a messed-up movie onto our (mostly) unsuspecting and innocent readers, for The Sinful Dwarf is something that, once seen, cannot be unseen.

    Here’s a brief synopsis via IMDB:

    “Olaf and his mother run a boarding house and a white slavery ring. They also smuggle heroin to keep the addict girls happy so they do not try and escape. A young couple move into the house and the evil landlords take a liking to the female.”

    The heroin comes in teddy bears (via a sleazy crook who calls himself “Santa Claus”) and the former showgirl mother—who was burned in a tragic accident the same year her weird lil’ boy was born—is as David Lynch by way of early John Waters (and Bette Davis in Whatever Happened to Baby Jane?) as it gets, with a hefty dollop of Little Edie from Grey Gardens thrown in for good measure. This shit is out there. Even people who quite enjoy especially sick 70s exploitation fare might draw the line with The Sinful Dwarf.

    It’s difficult to find a sleazier, more viscerally disgusting film than The Sinful Dwarf. I’m not entirely sure that one even exists.

    Keep reading after the jump…

    Posted by Richard Metzger | Leave a comment
    Photos of nineties kids in their bedrooms
    01:30 pm


    Adrienne Salinger

    Larry P.
    You can thank Aaron Spelling for Adrienne Salinger’s amusing and poignant images of mid-1990s teens hanging out in their bedrooms, which were collected in a 1995 book called In My Room. In a recent interview with Huck Magazine, she noted that

    I actually worked on that project for a long time. I started it on the West Coast, when I lived there, just out of frustration at the ways teenagers were being depicted. Because this was before the internet, this was before computers, and our reliance on television was huge. There weren’t a lot of outlets for people to represent themselves, especially young people. There was this TV show I remember around that time, Beverly Hills 90210, and it was just… it was just atrocious.

    Every picture is accompanied with some testimony from the subject about his or her own life. Salinger gave her subjects the right to remove any statements that they’d be uncomfortable having appear in print, and they universally moved to strike the statements they’d made on one subject, namely, sex:

    It was about three years after I had taken the initial photographs, and you know what’s interesting? They were all over legal age by the point that I talked to them again, and every single one of them vetoed my inclusion of anything about sex. So the book, oddly to me, has no sex in it. And the tapes are dripping with sex. Hilarious, teenage, crazy-ass sex.

    If you’d like to see more of the images, a great many of them can be seen at Salinger’s well-designed website, where the images appear with the subjects’ autobiographical statements. Or you can just buy the book.

    Jeff D.
    More Nineties teens’ rooms, after the jump…....

    Posted by Martin Schneider | Leave a comment
    DEVO meets the Jerky Boys: The prank call robo-porn genius of ‘Kathy McGinty’
    12:15 pm


    Kathy McGinty

    In the early 2000s Julia Rickert and Derek Erdman were spending their time online suckering “pervos” into calling them by pretending to be a phone sex hotline. More out of curiosity than malice, they decided they wanted to try to get the horny males they been observing from the Internet sex chat rooms they were frequenting to call them for a little closer interaction. They used the name “Kathy McGinty” as their alias. The picture of “Kathy” they used to lure their subjects was “a racy picture of a young girl curled up on a bed with her underwear showing,” which you can see above.

    Despite their desire to have horny strangers call them, they tried to think of a way that they could interact with “Kathy” without actually having to interact with them at all. They were luring creepy guys at their creepiest, so quite understandably, they were eager to contrive a safe barrier between the two parties. Erdman eventually came up with the idea of using a sampler to pre-record a bunch of canned statements that they could use to simulate their side of the interaction. Rickert recorded a whole slew of dialogue, including a hot ‘n’ heavy version of orgasm that would get inserted into various points of most every conversation.

    The results are something like “DEVO meets the Jerky Boys,” but even that intriguing description doesn’t quite do justice to the bizarre results, as random dudes try to have sexytime with a blocky female voice who starts out saying “You have a sexy voice,” but eventually blurts phrases like “No, I’m only 12,” “Taco Bell tastes sooo good,” and “I might be having a miscarriage!”

    Actually, “If Marco Rubio started a robot sex hotline that malfunctioned…” isn’t the worst description.

    A bunch of the recordings were passed around as a CDr but eventually, Erdman and Rickerts put out a regular CD you can buy with money.

    On his website Derek Erdman provides the clearest explanation of what it’s all about:

    If you spent any time in an internet sex chatroom in early 2001, there’s a slight chance that you may have come in contact with Kathy McGinty. Julia and I were getting our laughs by chatting online with horny cretins to see how many ridiculous comments they would tolerate before they would ignore us. We lured them with a fake profile that featured a racy picture of a young girl curled up on a bed with her underwear showing. (The name McGinty came from the song “Pat-Trip Dispenser” by The Fall; I’m not sure why we chose Kathy.) Before long, chatting was not enough. We wanted to hear what these guys sounded like, and so encouraged them to call our house. As neither of us actually wanted to speak to them, “Kathy” told them to leave voicemail messages, promising to call back if they were “sexy enough.” Some of these early callers are on the CD. When this source of amusement had lost its novelty, Julia wished aloud that there was a way to converse with the callers without having to talk to them, and I remembered a Yamaha SU-10 sampler that I had lying around. We rigged a phone to the sampler, came up with a series of phrases, and recorded Julia saying them. It took some time to get it right, but there was no shortage of callers. We’d be chatting with 10-15 callers at once, while 5 would be calling on the phone. The online trap was simple: we’d get chatted-up because of our provocative phone picture, we’d say that we were ready for action and that we wanted to get off over the phone. Sometimes it was 30 seconds tops. I controlled the sampler, which was kind of tricky. I’d listen on a muted cordless phone while pressing the buttons for the appropriate phrases. Sometimes it took a little time to find the right button, so there’s an unnatural pause in conversation. It mattered little though, most of the guys that called were already worked-up. We’d stay up all night robot-talking to pervos. I remember once one of them actually “finished” because I could offend him off of the phone, and it kind of gave me a stomach ache.

    A blogger named “Seedy” whose website is regrettably defunct points out that “the sheer ridiculousness and comic value of Kathy’s responses are equally matched by (a) the sheer incredulity of the callers and (b) their inability to admit the obvious, namely that they’ve been had. When Kathy seemingly orgasms into ecstatic oblivion at the slightest provocation (“Hello, is that Kathy?”) or starts conversing in tongues, a whoring hostage to the devil, the game should be up. But these guys are so desperate to get their rocks off that even the knowledge that their liaison is with a burn victim or a minor (‘I’m 12 years old’) doesn’t prevent them from pumping the pork sword (‘I’m not a child molester, but I’ll fuck you’).”
    Continues after the jump…

    Posted by Martin Schneider | Leave a comment
    11:08 am



    Okay folks, this post is going to be short and sweet. It ain’t about the words here, friends, it’s about THE TRIPPIEST CAT VIDEO ON THE ENTIRE INTERNET.

    “That’s a rather subjective opinion,” you say? But is it really?

    Nope! There is no competition. When you click play on the video below, you’ll surely be obliged to agree that it’s hands down THE TRIPPIEST CAT VIDEO ON THE ENTIRE INTERNET.

    Because it just is.

    For one thing, it’s probably the single highest-budgeted trippy cat video to be found on all of YouTube, at least one that wasn’t originally made as a TV commercial. Obviously shot on 35mm film, the clip is taken from the Walt Disney movie The Three Lives of Thomasina, which starred Patrick McGoohan, yes he of The Prisoner fame (and director of the rock and roll Othello movie, Catch My Soul). McGoohan plays a bitter widower, a brusque veterinarian who has lost his faith in God after his wife’s death, and been left with raising a young daughter. He does something altogether stupid, which I won’t go into here, that results in her pet cat dying and then we see this kitty’s amazing journey to a wonderful cat heaven.

    The 1963 film was based on Paul Gallico’s novel Thomasina, the Cat Who Thought She Was God and directed by Don Chaffey, who directed the classic fantasy film Jason and the Argonauts (featuring the stop-motion animation of the great Ray Harryhausen) that same year.

    Since all of the felines in this cat heaven are Siamese—sitting at the feet of Bastet, a nice detail—does this mean that Siamese cats are supposed to be like cat angels?

    Who knows? Who cares? THIS IS THE TRIPPIEST CAT VIDEO ON THE ENTIRE INTERNET. Just hit play!

    The VO here is in Italian, but this is the best quality clip of this on YouTube that I could find and it’s all about the visuals anyway. If you want to hear the VO in English—it’s Thomasina’s “inner voice” describing the heavenward journey “towards the light” and then getting sent back to Earth because it was only her first life (we all know how many lives cats get)—you can listen here.

    H/T Ann Magnuson/Matthew Amato

    Posted by Richard Metzger | Leave a comment
    ‘I’ve got what you want!’: Vintage ads for mail order smut
    10:49 am


    porn books
    porn ads

    This is how it was back in the sixties and seventies. No Pornhub. No XVideo. No HD stuff. No downloadable porn just a keystroke away. If you wanted to watch a porno flick in Moosefart, Montana, or keep a stash of uncensored 8x10s in your bedroom closet, well you had to check the small ad pages in adult magazines like Follies, Frolic, Nugget, Dude, Rogue, Gent, Knight, Bachelor and Adam. This is how horny young Americans—like your dear old dad and granddad—entertained themselves before the tsunami of free digital pornography starting getting piped into the home like a utility.

    Being born, raised and still living in Scotland, my knowledge of yon Americana is informed by what I’ve read in books, histories and what have you. Of course, over here there is obviously a similarity of experience. One man who built his porn empire on mail order adult entertainment is David Sullivan.

    Sullivan is an economics graduate who started his adult entertainment empire by selling glossy pix thru the mail. He then moved on to mail order home movies and “marital aids.” Sullivan was so successful that he ended up running 80% of the UK’s adult mail order market. He also owned several sex shops, a line of hardcore magazines (up to 50% of the UK market), successfully produced several pornos and soft core movies—the latter best known for starring the legendary Mary Millington and a host of British comedy talent.  He diversified into newspapers (Sunday Sport) before becoming the largest shareholder in two soccer clubs—first Birmingham, now West Ham.

    When working in the adult entertainment business, Sullivan thought of himself as a “freedom fighter.” He was once tried and sentenced to 71 days imprisonment for living off immoral earnings—which is a kind of catchall charge to punish pornographers. He has no “embarrassment” over his time in jail telling the London Evening Standard in 2010:

    “I’ve made a lot of people happy,” he says. “If I was an arms manufacturer or a cigarette manufacturer, and my products killed millions of my clients, I’d have a bit of doubt about the whole thing. I was a freedom fighter. I believe in the right of adults to make their own decisions.”

    The 1970s were a boom time for adult mail order entertainment. When I was a student at the University of Glasgow back in the 1980s, the campus was split between the men’s union—the Glasgow University Union—and the women’s union—the Queen Margaret Union. While the QMU opened its doors to both male and female students, the men’s union remained until the early eighties, a bastion of male chauvinism. At the time, the “men’s union” was best known for its world champion debaters and for screening something called the “Freds.”

    The “Freds” were the Tom and Jerry cartoons produced by Fred Quimby. A couple of these classic animations provided the intermission entertainment between two mail order blue movies screened for the edification and enjoyment of a select band of GUU students. The “Freds” supposedly stopped after the union opened its doors to women, but it was always rumored the “Freds” were still be screening by a group of recalcitrant students somewhere within the walls of this famous baronial building. Fans of the “Freds” went onto become politicians, lawyers, bankers, successful CEOs and apparently even a priest. But with the arrival of video home systems (VHS) the end was nigh for the boom in mail order adult entertainment. And today with the Internet, even magazines like Playboy have stopped bother to publish nude pictures in its pages. So for those too young to remember, and for those who do remember and perhaps did partake, is a small selection of classic adult entertainment ads from the sixties and seventies.
    “Privately” printed mags? Oh my, this is not the kinda smut grandpa wanted you to find in that locked box in his basement after he died.
    Bernard of Hollywood must have been the place to go for “Authentic, unretouched stags of well known gals before they reached the top. Rare thrillers all.” Sounds like something out of a James Ellroy novel…and the WTF ad with sweaty, wide-eyed hepped-up pervo freak? Looks kinda rapey.
    More vintage adult ads, after the jump….

    Posted by Paul Gallagher | Leave a comment
    Moor, Moor, Moor: Shakespeare’s ‘Othello’ goes 70s rock musical in cult classic ‘Catch My Soul’

    Poster Art for Catch My Soul
    When seeds of malice and deceit are planted, only the worst kind of garden, watered by blood and tears, will bloom. The Ancient Greeks knew this, as did the Bard himself when he wrote his early 1600’s play, Othello. (Which in turn was based on “The Moorish Captain,” a 1565 short story written by Cinthio, an Italian writer and poet. Art, much like an onion and that one book in the Bible that is a series of “begetting,” is a never ending string of inspiration, revisions and occasional outright thievery.) When it comes to this story being adapted for the Silver Screen, most are at least familiar with the 1952 adaptation directed by and starring Orson Welles or the 1995 film starring Laurence Fishburne and Kenneth Branagh. There is one film out of the number of various versions that tends to get left out of the fold, unjustifiably. A film that, while it could have only been born out of the late 60’s /early 70’s, has retained the timelessness of Cinthio and Shakespeare’s tragedy. The film in question? 1974’s Catch My Soul.
    The devlish Iago
    Patrick McGoohan, who is better known for his acting work on the classic 60’s TV show The Prisoner (as well as Howard Hughes’ favorite film ever, Ice Station Zebra), directed Catch My Soul, a modern-day musical reworking of the famous tale. Starring legendary folk singer/Woodstock juggernaut Richie Havens as Othello, whom instead of being a general for the Venetian army, is now a man of God baptizing a ragtag group of boho-commune types. There’s the apple of his eye, the meekly boyish Desdemona (a very young Season Hubley) and his righthand man, Cassio (musician Tony Joe White), a former boozer who has found redemption through Christ and Othello himself. But there’s a snake in the land of pure love and spirituality in the form of Iago (Lance Legault), who, along with some help from his wife Amelia (the eternally inimitable Susan Tyrell), plots and plants assorted seeds for Othello’s hellish downfall.
    Othello confronts Desdemona
    Catch My Soul manages to nail all the things that were right about some of its cinematic peers (ie. Norman Jewison’s Jesus Christ Superstar or David Greene’s Godspell, both of which came out the year before) and mercifully escapes a number of their flaws. Thanks to McGoohan’s able direction, writer Jack Good’s script and the impeccable camerawork by Conrad L. Hall, the film never slips into any dated hippie-dippy cliches and retains the gravitas of the original source material. Even better, the religious angle is heavy but without claw-hammering the audience. Catch My Soul is interesting for many reasons and this is one of the strongest ones. It is a tale of sadness, loss of faith, love punctured and spirituality without becoming a full blown “religious” film. Which is one of the things that undoubtedly hurt the film’s chances of success during its initial theatrical release. Not religious enough for the hardcore fundamentalist crowd and too strange for the rest. A modern-day musical re-telling of Shakespeare’s Othello with a spiritual tint starring Richie Havens and Susan Tyrell is a film that in a just world should sound immediately appealing to most, but this existence’s version of justice is about as moth-eaten and flimsy as ¾ of Sir Andrew Lloyd Webber’s work.
    Iago plants further seeds of destruction
    In further injustice, Catch My Soul never even warranted a home video release via VHS, Beta, Laserdisc or DVD. That is, until very recently, via Etiquette Pictures and their beautifully remastered Blu-ray release. (See? Some things do right themselves out… you just may have to wait a few decades for the scales to balance.)

    The music is solid, which is a no-brainer given that, in addition to Havens and White (who had a big hit in ‘68 with “Polk Salad Annie”), the film also features such noted musicians as Delaney and Bonnie Bramlett, as well as Billy Joe Royal (of “Down in the Boondocks” fame). Interestingly enough, it is Legault who does the lion’s share of the singing and he not only brings it vocally, but makes for one of the most manic and intense Iagos in recent memory. He plays Iago as if the man himself is literally the Devil. Charismatic even when covered in sweat and dirt and soot and frightening as the awareness that the only demon living in Iago’s fevered, poxed soul is the one in his mind, Legault is stellar. For a man who got his start as a stunt double for Elvis, later on starred in The A-Team and worked as a lounge singer, where is his documentary? Someone needs to plant that seed and soon.
    Continues after the jump…

    Posted by Heather Drain | Leave a comment
    UFO contactee Howard Menger plays ‘Authentic Music from Another Planet’
    09:14 am


    Howard Menger

    At the age of ten, Howard Menger was playing in the woods near his home in Hunterdon County, New Jersey, when he claims that he encountered a beautiful blonde from Venus wearing a “ski-type outfit.” It was the first in a series of alleged contacts with extraterrestrials that culminated in the alleged landing of an interplanetary spacecraft at Menger’s house in High Bridge, New Jersey in 1956, and included a musical transmission from Saturn that Menger was allegedly instructed to deliver to the human race.

    From the sleeve notes of Menger’s only LP, Authentic Music from Another Planet:

    Howard Menger met a man from Saturn who played for him on a Saturnian instrument very much like our piano. He instructed Howard Menger that he was to bring this music to the attention of the people here on Earth by playing it for them on a piano. Howard Menger never played a piano before and had no knowledge of music whatsoever. Yet he was assured that, when he sat down at the piano, his hands would be guided and he would be able to play. From that time on, Howard Menger has been able to play the piano. He plays best after midnight. On several occasions he played for hours without rest, while his spellbound friends listened in appreciative silence and awe. This music as played by Howard Menger is never duplicated in his interpretation. When he is playing, it has an exhilarating effect on many people hearing this music.


    Released by Newark’s Slate Enterprises, Inc., Authentic Music from Another Planet is a recording of Menger talking about his encounters with aliens and playing three pieces of music. The two selections on side one, “Marla” (for his wife, Connie, a/k/a Marla Baxter, the author of My Saturnian Lover) and “Theme from the Song from Saturn,” are merely “interpretations taken from the actual music that came from another Planet,” which is good, because they sound like all-too-human accordion music from Buca di Beppo. Side two is devoted to “The Song from Saturn,” the music the Space Brothers told Howard to bring back to Earth for our spiritual benefit. I think they gave their best tunes to Sun Ra, but I will say that it sounds like the music of the spheres compared to side one.

    You can read Menger’s “incredible” story in his book From Outer Space To You, edited and published by Gray Barker, the notorious ufologist and hoaxer who probably came closest to revealing what he knew of our space masters’ secret agenda in his poem “UFO IS A BUCKET OF SHIT.”

    All of Authentic Music from Another Planet is up at Internet Archive in the “Saucerology” section of Faded Discs Archive, Wendy Connors’ enormous hoard of UFO audio. Below, hear “The Song from Saturn.”

    Posted by Oliver Hall | Leave a comment
    Deep Red: Brutally beautiful art created with blood
    08:50 am


    blood art
    Jordan Eagles

    URTSBC4 by Jordan Eagles
    “URTSBC3,” 2012 by Jordan Eagles

    New York-based artist Jordan Eagles has been working with blood as his medium for over a decade. His large scale works,  which are not for the squeamish or hemophobic, have been exhibited in galleries all across the country.
    FKTS 19, 2012
    “FKTS 19,” 2012
    Life Force 2, 2012
    “Life Force 2,” 2012
    Eagles uses blood he has obtained from slaughterhouses as well as human blood that was donated to him willingly from people who will live on long after they have gone, as a part of Eagles’ ambitious creations. And while most people find the sight of blood unappealing, Eagles says the process of working with blood can be both “meditative and exhilarating,” and that even after working with the unconventional medium for so long he still “gets a thrill out of the energy that comes from the material.” In order to preserve the blood he encases it in plexiglass and UV resin which allows the blood to hold on to its natural colors, structure and patterns, which according to Eagle “embodies transformation, regeneration and an allegory of death to life.”
    Blood Mirror, 2014
    “Blood Mirror,” 2014
    More after the jump…

    Posted by Cherrybomb | Leave a comment
    ‘Dead Pigeon on Beethoven Street’: German TV thriller directed by Sam Fuller with soundtrack by Can
    03:46 pm


    Samuel Fuller

    My mother was from Austria, and it’s through her that I came to learn of the incredible Tatort TV series that has existed in Germany, Switzerland, and Austria since 1970. There’s nothing really comparable to Tatort in America, although CBS’s practice of setting up CSI franchises in different cities provides a starting point to an explanation, as does the revolving door of homicide detectives in Law & Order.

    The basic idea of Tatort is that it’s a police procedural series that exists in roughly a dozen different German-speaking cities—all at the same time. So think of it as a dozen different series with different police protagonists, all of which use the same basic template. Berlin has its Kommissare (police detectives) who work for the Mordkommission (homicide department), and Hamburg has its Kommissare, and so do Munich and Cologne and Leipzig and Münster and Dortmund and on and on. If you shoot a handful of episodes every year in twelve different cities for 40 years in a row, eventually you’ll end up with quite a massive project, and sure enough, as of this writing they’re zeroing in on their thousandth episode.

    Tatort means “scene of the crime,” and one of the central ideas of the series is to take that word Ort (place) very seriously. All episodes use a good deal of on-location shooting, so that viewers can really see the different cities in which the shows take place. In a more general way, it’s part of the series mandate for the shows of each city to have some regional spirit—as an example, the various regional accents one encounters in the different episodes are quite noticeable.

    Every episode of Tatort is 90 minutes long, without commercial interruption, and a great many of them start with the discovery of a murder victim’s body and the associated crime scene/forensic palaver with which we’re all familiar. The running length is a mixed blessing: it allows the episodes to probe deeper than comparable American shows, but it’s a bit too long for what is ultimately a formulaic exercise, and I’m not the first to notice that many episodes tend to sag around the midway point. Still: if at its worst a Tatort episode would be on the level of any forgettable Kojak, at its best the episodes attain the same general excellence of something like The Silence of the Lambs.

    For those who are interested in the series, Michael Kimmelman’s astute writeup, which appeared in The New York Times in 2009 is worth a read. 

    The 25th episode of Tatort aired on January 7, 1973: The episode was called Tote Taube in der Beethovenstraße (“Dead Pigeon on Beethoven Street”)  The director was none other than that great American character Samuel Fuller, responsible for such masterworks as Pickup on South Street and Shock Corridor, and the music was provided by a German outfit, credited as “The Can,” that just a few months before had released its fourth album, Ege Bamyasi.

    The episode is set in Bonn and Cologne, mostly. I’ve watched the episode in full, and there’s no denying that it has a certain pulpy pizzazz—Fuller does know what he’s doing—but it’s not much more than a collection of espionage tropes jammed together without too much rhyme or reason. My knowledge of German didn’t enable me to follow the plot, so you shouldn’t worry too much about understanding it, either. A major character is named Charlie Umlaut, which is a tiny bit hilarious. Apparently the plot was inspired somewhat by the Profumo affair in the UK.

    In the opening sequence viewers will hear the familiar strains of Can’s hit “Vitamin C,” which was also used to strong effect in Paul Thomas Anderson’s Inherent Vice.

    More after the jump…

    Posted by Martin Schneider | Leave a comment
    Behind-the-scenes photos of Stanley Kubrick’s ‘A Clockwork Orange’
    12:55 pm


    Stanley Kubrick
    A Clockwork Orange


    “I’m going out with my droogs to the cinny to shove a pooshka into the grahzny bratchny.”

    A roundup of some behind-the-scenes photos from the set of Stanley Kubrick’s A Clockwork Orange, 1971. Like Cure videos and cute cat memes, there is a seemingly bottomless well of Kubrick memorabilia on the Internet. His films will still be discussed, debated—and still WATCHED—500 years from now.

    “Viddy well, little brother. Viddy well.”




    More after the jump…

    Posted by Tara McGinley | Leave a comment
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