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Angry Samoans, Dickies, Suburban Lawns and more in a cable TV report on L.A. punk (c. 1980)


 
What’s Up America was a newsmagazine show that ran on Showtime from 1978 to 1981, covering “topics such as BB guns; female boxers; urban cowboys; Elvis Presley impersonators; chariot racers in Pocatello, Idaho; and a couple who lived year-round on Liberty Island in New York Harbor,” as well as pay TV premiums like “pornographic film actors, strippers, prostitutes, and a nude beauty pageant.”

One segment, roughly contemporary with The Decline of Western Civilization, profiled the Los Angeles punk scene. There are not-so-familiar faces and voices, like those of Orange County’s Nu-Beams, and slightly more familiar ones, like those of Claude “Kickboy Face” Bessy and Phranc of Catholic Discipline, BÖC lyricist and VOM singer Richard Meltzer, and DJ Rodney Bingenheimer.

Speaking of Rodney, the warm feelings showfolk used to pretend to have for one another are not much in evidence on this broadcast: the Angry Samoans name the former English Disco owner as one of the people they would like to murder, along with Kim Fowley, Phil Spector, and “Rockefeller” (Nelson?), who, as one member points out, is already dead. The report opens with the Samoans at Blackies (the club Black Flag’s then-singer Ron Reyes mentions during the introduction to “Revenge” in Decline), playing their love song “You Stupid Asshole.”
 

 
The Suburban Lawns are in there, performing their self-released first single “Gidget Goes to Hell,” then in its second pressing. (I think this dates the show to ‘79-‘80, or else the Lawns would be plugging “Janitor.”) Bassist Vex Billingsgate expresses the wish that a record company will soon relieve the band of its independence. The show saves the Dickies, the first L.A. punk band signed to a major label, for last. Singer Leonard Phillips spells out the Dickies’ ethic, or lack of same:

We’re not really aggravated about a producer taking our live sound and transforming it into a commercially successful product, because we’re capitalists, and if it’s going to help us sell more records, I certainly would make a compromise.

Watch it after the jump…

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Posted by Oliver Hall
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11.16.2017
08:29 am
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‘60 Minutes’ loses its shit over D&D (not the demogorgon, though), 1985
11.14.2017
09:17 am
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I’ve never really cottoned to 60 Minutes. I’ve always thought their approach was rather heavy-handed, pushing a simplistic line through bullying interviews and repetition of facts that might be considered innocuous when viewed in a sober frame of mind. One of the best takedowns of the 60 Minutes method comes from the talented writer Michael J. Arlen, who published a lengthy critique of the show in The New Yorker in 1977—and his criticisms stand up perfectly well in the present day, in my view. (You can read Arlen’s piece in his 1981 collection The Camera Age.)

In 1985 the show turned its attention to Dungeons and Dragons, and the results were predictably overwrought. The 1980s were an unusual time of “moral panic”—over drug use and satanism, sexual lyrics in rock songs and D&D and drunk driving—there was hardly an aspect of teens’ lives that parents couldn’t blow up into a huge threat to the safe and featureless suburbanism in which so many of the teens lived.
 

 
The 60 Minutes reporter on the case is Morley Safer, whose very calmness is an ideal conduit for the moral panic at issue. He idly puzzles over the funky-looking dice—one young enthusiast tells him that the 4-sided die is mainly used for damage from daggers and darts—before getting to the condemning testimonials, most heartbreakingly the sister of a teen who had committed suicide. An alarmist psychologist is trotted out—this one employed by the University of Illinois—I’m sure that such people would never use the moral panic to enhance their own bank accounts, no sir.

Fortunately, Gary Gygax himself is on hand as well, to supply a reasonable analogy to Monopoly, in which the money lost isn’t real. With the perspective of decades, it’s all too clear that D&D may at best have been a symptom of deeper problems like alienation and loneliness, rather than a driver of violent deaths.
 
Watch after the jump…

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Posted by Martin Schneider
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11.14.2017
09:17 am
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‘Seventeen’: Shocking made-for-PBS documentary on American teens was too real for TV
11.13.2017
10:23 am
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Seventeen
 
Seventeen is a made-for-TV documentary on American teenagers. Highly controversial before it even aired, it was pulled and never made it to the small screen. It went on to become an award-winning film.

Seventeen would’ve been the sixth installment in Middletown, a five-part documentary series on small town American life. Middletown was filmed in Muncie, Indiana, conceived as a follow-up to two Depression-era sociology studies that took place in Muncie, Middletown: A Study in Modern American Culture and Middletown in Transition: A Study in Cultural Conflicts. The series aired on PBS in 1982.
 
Directors and title
 
Seventeen is the work of filmmakers Joel DeMott and Jeff Kreines (note that DeMott is female, despite her traditionally male forename). The duo followed a group of Class of 1981 seniors during their final year at Muncie’s Southside High School. In the film, students mouth off to their teachers, curse up a storm, talk openly and graphically about sex, get drunk, get high, and are generally seen acting in an irresponsible fashion. Race relations is a recurrent topic—the language used will be shocking to the average viewer—with the threat of violence breaking out between black and white residents so frequent that it becomes unnerving. A number of students appear in Seventeen, but the focus is on Lynn Massie, a particularly outspoken and vivacious teen. Massie, who is white, is dating a black classmate, which is frowned upon by many in her community. At one point, racist neighbors burn a cross on the Massies’ front lawn.
 
Lynn Massie
 
As upsetting as cross burning is (though the Massies seem unsurprised by it), perhaps the most alarming sequence in the film takes place during a drunken house party. Amongst the high schoolers getting wasted is Lynn’s youngest brother—who can’t be more than twelve—who chugs beer after beer. When the keg runs dry, Lynn starts counting her cash for a beer run, when “Jeff” (likely filmmaker Kreines) is heard off-camera agreeing to chip in. Then Lynn’s mother appears in the room and it quickly becomes apparent that we’ve been watching a bunch of underage young people getting blotto at a party sanctioned by parents. Mrs. Massie even narcs on a couple of partygoers who didn’t pay the $3 cover. Unbelievable.
 
House party
 
The most movielike instance in Seventeen occurs when, after the night of partying, the teens silently mourn the recent death of a friend while listening to music. It’s a moment in which it’s easy to forget that what’s happening on screen isn’t scripted—it’s real.
 
Shari Massie and Buck
 
Seventeen is compelling cinéma vérité, for sure, but it just wasn’t the sort of thing that was seen on TV in 1982. Xerox, the corporate sponsor of Middletown, as well as PBS affiliates, had a largely negative reaction to Seventeen. There was also the threat of lawsuits from some of the Muncie residents who appeared in the film, and PBS likely had concerns that future federal funding could be cut. It’s unclear if Peter Davis, the producer of Middletown, pulled Seventeen, or if PBS president Larry Grossman gave it the ax, but on March 30, 1982, PBS announced the documentary wouldn’t air. 
 
More after the jump…

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Posted by Bart Bealmear
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11.13.2017
10:23 am
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‘Undercover of the Night’: That time the Rolling Stones got banned for ‘glamorizing violence’

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How to stay relevant. It’s a question we all face at some point in life. Mick Jagger was thinking about staying relevant. It was 1983. Punk had come and gone. New Wave was still a thing. Electronica and the New Romantics were still fashionable. Where did a rock ‘n’ roll band like the Stones fit into the mix? Jagger was going through what Keith Richards calls “Lead Vocalist Syndrome.” The point where a band’s singer thinks he/she is bigger, better, and more important than the rest of the group.

Richards had quit heroin. He was clean. After years of fucking around, Richards was back and wanted to take up his fair share of the burden Jagger had been carrying. But Jagger had control of the Rolling Stones and wasn’t going to give Keith an inch.

“Shut up, Keith, that’s an idiotic idea,” was how Jagger dismissed Richards.

To keep relevant, Jagger was checking out the competition. He wanted to know what Bowie was doing, what Rod Stewart was doing, what was the latest tune played on the dancefloor at Studio 54, and which bands were snapping at their heels. He was chasing his own tail.

The best way to stay relevant is to be and do.

Jagger and Richards wrote their first song on a kitchen table. They didn’t care what other people thought or who they sounded like, it was their song—that was all that mattered. Now, the relationship between Jagger and Richards was fractious. It was falling apart. Jagger had control and he was taking the Stones where he wanted.

Yet, checking out the opposition, chasing the trends meant sometimes Jagger got it right. He was and still is a shrewd businessman—let’s not forget, he had been a student at the London School of Economics. He had also been very successful in taking the Stones in unlikely directions, like that time he pulled them into disco music with “Miss You.” But sometimes his ideas were as popular as that time Family Guy replaced Brian with the ghastly mutt, Vinny. Still, Jagger was always open to suggestions, always looking for something new, always wanting to be at the front of the crowd.

Jagger had read William Burroughs’ book Cities of the Red Night. It was the book everyone was supposed to be reading. It had received, at that point, the best reviews of Burroughs’ career. Which shows weird only lasts as long as it’s something new. Now Burroughs was an eminent grise living in a bunker in NYC hanging his used condoms out to dry on the washing-line.

Burroughs was the starting point for Jagger writing the song “Undercover of the Night” in Paris around late 1982. As he later explained in the liner notes for The Stones’ compilation Jump Back, “Undercover of the Night” was “heavily influenced by William Burroughs’ Cities Of The Red Night, a free-wheeling novel about political and sexual repression. It combines a number of different references to what was going down in Argentina and Chile.” Though he did deny he had “nicked it.”

The Burroughs’ influence is evident in Jagger’s lyrics:

Hear the screams from Center 42
Loud enough to bust your brains out
The opposition’s tongue is cut in two
Keep off the streets ‘cause you’re in danger
One hundred thousand disparu
Lost in the jails in South America

Curl up baby
Curl up tight
Curl up baby
Keep it all out of sight
Undercover
Keep it all out of sight
Undercover of the night

The sex police are out there on the streets
Make sure the pass laws are not broken
The race militia has got itchy fingers
All the way from New York back to Africa

“Undercover of the Night” is a classic Stones’ track. A brilliant vocal, a great guitar riff, and a memorable hook. It was Jagger’s song, as Richards later recalled:

“Mick had this one all mapped out, I just played on it. There were a lot more overlays on the track because there was a lot more separation in the way we were recording at the time.”

When it came to making the promo for the song, the Stones approached Julien Temple who was the hip, young director with a fine resume of work with the Sex Pistols, the UK Subs (Punk Can Take It) and the promo for “Come on Eileen” by Dexy’s Midnight Runners. He had also famously directed the Pistols big screen adventure The Great Rock ‘n’ Roll Swindle.

Temple soon discovered how difficult the relationship between Jagger and Richards had become:

“I wrote an extreme treatment about being in the middle of an urban revolution and dramatized the notion of Keith and Mick really not liking each other by having Keith kill Mick in the video. I never thought they would do it. Of course, they loved it. I went to Paris to meet with the band. Keith was looking particularly unhappy. He was glowering with menace and eventually said, ‘Come downstairs with me.’ My producer and I went down to the men’s room. Keith had a walking stick and suddenly he pulled it apart. The next thing I know he’s holding a swordstick to my throat. He said, ‘I want to be in the video more than I am.’ So we wrote up his part a bit more. That was Keith’s idea of collaboration!”

 
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Mick Jagger getting lippy.
 
The promo opens on a hotel complex. American tourists are having a good time grooving to the Stones’ music while militiamen patrol the rooftops and streets. Jagger as the journalist (white knight in a Panama hat and very bad stick-on mustache) watches as Keith and his gang of masked vigilantes or maybe revolutionaries or maybe death squad or maybe just a rock ‘n’ roll group on the spur of some internal wranglings (take your pick) sneak into the hotel and kidnap one of the hotel guests or rather kidnap Mick Jagger watching Mick Jagger on TV. Journo Mick watches kidnapped Mick being spirited away by Keith and co. who all drive off in what looks like a military vehicle straight past a bunch of soldiers kicking the shit out of people down on their luck.

Journo Mick makes his way to kidnapped Mick’s hotel room where he finds a woman hiding under the bed covers (ya see what they did there?). Anyway, one thing leads to another, and journo Mick and his girl under the covers watch an execution and then go off (via the police department) to rescue kidnapped Mick. A shoot-out ensues in a candle-lit church—nothing worse than what any five-year-old could see on The A-Team—and kidnapped Mick is saved. Poor old journo Mick dies from a bullet wound.

What it’s saying, what it’s actually about, is none too clear. It’s a dilettante’s take on Burroughs and the criminal activities of government’s and hoodlums in South America. At worst, it might make a viewer go, “Wow, South America looks a fun place to have a party.” At best, it would get the kids talking about politics and shit.

Jagger has sometimes been accused of being a dilettante. Maybe. To be fair, he’s more, as Richards said in his autobiography, “a sponge” who soaks up whatever’s going on and filters it through his music. Just what every good artist does.

The subject matter of the song and its accompanying promo was a rare outing into politics for the Stones. It was over fifteen years since “Street Fighting Man” but “Undercover of the Night” chimed neatly with the edgy political songs released by bands like The Jam or specifically the Clash and their album Sandinista! from 1980, which similarly dealt with the political turmoil in Chile and Nicaragua. The promo was banned by the BBC or rather the Corporation said they weren’t going to screen it, while the Independent Broadcasting Authority (IBA) were nervous over its perceived violence. MTV was also angsty. It’s difficult to see why the sequences of so-called “violence” caused such concern, as both the BBC and the Independent Television Channels in the UK screened far worse with war films and westerns and TV detective series at peak times. It was more likely the political content—the suggestion that America was in some way sponsoring murderous dictatorships in South America—rather than any bang-bang, shoot-shoot, made “Undercover of the Night” unpalatable. But getting “banned” kept the Stones relevant in a wholly different way.

In 1983 Mick Jagger and director Julien Temple appeared via TV link-up on The Tube to promote the single and defend the video’s politics and violence. They were interviewed by a young presenter called Muriel Gray.

The Tube was the best music show on British television during the eighties. It was launching pad for a variety of young, sometimes unknown artists like the Fine Young Cannibals, Paul Young, and even Twisted Sister who earned a record deal after their appearance. Gray was one of the show’s three presenters, alongside main hosts Jools Holland and Paula Yates. Gray had been selected out of literally dozens, nay hundreds of young hopefuls who attended auditions to be one of the presenters on the show. Gray won out because she had the right kind of attitude, which probably stemmed from the fact her favorite hobby was “arguing—not even discussing” as Gray believed arguing was the best way to find out what a person is really thinking.

It was an awkward interview between Gray, Jagger and Temple. It was almost like a gobby maiden Aunt versus the naughty drunken Uncles. Gray later explained in The Official Book of The Tube, she “wanted Mick Jagger… to justify why he thought the violence in the ‘Undercover of the Night’ video was necessary, what his personal reasons were.” Unfortunately, it didn’t quite end up like that. Television interviewers have a difficult role. They are told by the producer what they have to extract from the interviewee. Their job is a one part sycophant, one part grand inquisitor.

Read more of Jagger and the ‘Under Cover of the Night’ interview, after the jump…
 

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Posted by Paul Gallagher
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11.09.2017
08:33 am
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Now you can have your very own ‘Plumbus’ from ‘Rick and Morty’ for less than six & a half brapples
11.08.2017
10:29 am
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An all-too authentic-looking “Plumbus” made by Canadian artist Chad Meister as seen in the Adult Swim cartoon, ‘Rick and Morty.’
 
The now legendary “all-purpose home device” the “Plumbus” was first featured on the addictive animated Adult Swim show Rick and Morty in Season two on episode eight “Interdimensional Cable 2: Tempting Fate.” The appearance of the logic-defying Plumbus sent fans into a spiral of WTF much like the aftermath following the equally infamous show from Season Three, “Pickle Rick.” If none of this is making any sense to you, then for some awful reason or thanks to the large rock you live under, I can only assume you’ve never seen an episode of Rick and Morty. If that applies to you, then I highly advise you to change that immediately. Your life will be better for it. Trust me.

Getting back to the Plumbus, an Etsy shop amusingly called Schwifty Props run by Chad Meister has created a spot-on reproduction of the curious Plumbus. Meister’s Plumbus’ come in three different sizes; Tiny (3.5 inches), Regular-Old (six inches), and “Cromulon” (twelve inches) which is an homage to the fantastically bizarre “Pickle Rick” episode. Schwifty Props has even gone the extra mile by including a replica of the Plumbus instruction manual just like the one included in both the DVD and Blu-ray Collector’s Edition releases of Rick and Morty: The Complete Second Season. Here’s a bit from the show that explains what a Plumbus is. Though it might not really explain anything, it’s hard to say:

“Welcome to the exciting world of Plumbus ownership! A Plumbus will aid many things in life, making life easier. With proper maintenance, handling, storage, and urging, Plumbus will provide you with a lifetime of better living and happiness.”

Meister is located in Canada and notes that it can take at least three weeks to ship a Plumbus to you, so keep that in mind. Meister also makes a few other oddities that from the show such as the “Butter Robot” (Episode nine, season one “Something Ricked This Way Comes”), and the often-featured “Mega Seeds” that Rick told Morty to put “way up his butthole” on the debut episode of the show.

Images of the real-life somewhat NSFW Plumbus follow.
 

A photo of one of Meister’s Plumbus’ hanging out in a bathroom.
 

The Plumbus workshop.
 
More after the jump…

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Posted by Cherrybomb
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11.08.2017
10:29 am
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A treasure trove of ‘The Twilight Zone’ magazine

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Somewhere in your life, a door opens, you enter, and you suddenly find yourself in another dimension—a place beyond that which is known to man. A dimension as vast as space and as timeless as infinity. Or, as we prefer to call it, the Internet—where everything is available and time disappears as you spend hours upon hours drifting in the hell of an Internet K-hole.

Sometimes you’re lucky. Sometimes you avoid the endless loops of cat and baby videos and dodge the fake news and outraged memes about nothing very much in particular only to land safely in a strange repository of mystery and imagination.

One such idyllic location can be found at the Internet Archive where the Pulp Magazine Archive has nearly every back issue of Rod Serling’s The Twilight Zone Magazine. This is the place to spend hours, days even, happily reading, learning, and being thrilled by the very best genre writers of our age like Stephen King, Richard Matheson, Ray Bradbury, Joyce Carol Oates, Isaac Bashevis Singer, Robert Silverberg, and Harlan Ellison.

Rod Serling’s The Twilight Zone Magazine started in April 1981 under the editorship of writer T. E. D. Klein and lasted until 1989. It was filled with first-class stories (see above), interviews with writers and directors, film reviews (including Stephen King’s take on Sam Raimi’s The Evil Dead), long illustrated features on films like Blade Runner, Gremlins, John Carpenter’s The Thing, and David Lynch’s Dune, plus book reviews by Thomas M. Disch and Theodore Sturgeon. There were also incredible treats like John Carpenters “lost” short fiction and the story behind H. P. Lovecraft’s “banned book.”

Now, thankfully to one kind dear soul who has lovingly scanned nearly every issue (sixty in total), you too can enjoy the pleasures of entering The Twilight Zone for yourself.
 
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Discover more treasures from ‘The Twilight Zone Magazine,’ after the jump…
 

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Posted by Paul Gallagher
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11.06.2017
11:08 am
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‘Swinging’: This seemingly suppressed Australian kids’ show is totally bizarre
11.06.2017
10:08 am
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Collage
 
Swinging is an obscure children’s program that aired for one season on Australian TV during the 1990s. It’s also really freaking weird. The show, about a humanlike family of apes, features peculiar costumes and altogether strange imagery that likely had the unintended effect of scaring the bejesus out of the kids who watched it. Swinging has largely vanished, but we’ve found some episodes of this bizarre program to lay on you.

The show is based around the Turveys, a family of talking monkeys (they also refer to each other as apes, chimpanzees, baboons, etc.). The small cast of characters also includes a couple of friends of Rosy’s, the lead chimp, and two talking trees. It’s set in some sort of unreal jungle/forest hybrid. All the roles are played by human actors wearing grotesque costumes and makeup that surely rendered them scary-looking in the minds of young children.
 
Monkey see
 
Swining isn’t exactly a kid’s program—more like a bizarro world family sitcom. The program brings to mind Sid & Marty Kroft’s druggy kid’s shows, like H.R. Pufnstuf and Lidsville, which also featured scary and weird-looking costumed-characters. And like those head trips, Swinging resembles a hallucination—or a nightmare—come to life.
 
Forest
 
There’s very little information online concerning Swinging, though it does have a Wikipedia page. The program was a product of the Australian Broadcasting Corporation (ABC), the nation’s government-funded TV network. Swinging premiered on September 10, 1997, and, according to Wikipedia, it ran for 15 episodes. It’s unclear, though, how long it was on the air. The show has been wiped clean from ABC’s website, though a 2002 listing can be found via the Wayback Machine. Here’s the text:

Come in to the fun-filled world of a family of monkeys who laugh, sing and dance their way through life. Rosy Turvey is an independent and acrobatic eight-year old. Her parents, Augustus and Filameena, are constantly kissing and joking around. But remember this is monkey business!

Augustus loves “Elvis Primate,” king of monkey rock while Filameena encourages the kids’ to be messy and watch more TV. Watching over Rosy are Alf and Bert, the Talking Trees. While they often disagree, they are quick to point out the harsh reality of the situation. Tipsy Turvey, Theodore Curly and Mitzy Tangle complete the cast of colourful characters.

An ABC production.

 
Monkey do
 
Swinging has never been released on home video, and is quite hard to come by. Recently, a handful of episodes—captured on videotape back in the day—were uploaded to YouTube.

Continues after the jump…

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Posted by Bart Bealmear
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11.06.2017
10:08 am
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Stranger Dongs: Of course, there’s a ‘Stranger Things’ dildo
11.02.2017
01:37 pm
Topics:
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We live in an age in which the urge to combine one’s desire to self-administer sexual pleasure and one’s obsession with an addictive pop culture artifact can easily be gratified, no problemo.

In other words: Stranger Things dildo? Yup, Stranger Things dildo.
 

 
The good people at Bad Dragon unveiled their new “Demogorgon” model of imitation penis on October 20, and it might be the only dildo ever to come with its own teaser video with no sexual angle whatsoever, as well as a highly produced six-minute commercial lovingly shot with all the 80s goodness you could ever muster. They even made sure to include Spielbergian forest flashlights right out of E.T.: The Extra-Terrestrial

The closing credit sequence features various “making-of’ clips of the actors in action, also surely a rare occurrence for a dildo commercial. The cast includes the intriguingly named Elise Brillig and Katsuri Epsilon. You can be certain that a tri-colored royal mesh trucker hat was included among the wardrobe effects.

The base price of the Demogorgon is $55 and comes in a large variety of colors, including Demogorgon’s Natural, Demogorgon’s Signature, Ectoplasm, Sinister Pumpkin, and Salted Caramel Blondie. Most of the styles come with an additional charge of $10 to $20.
 
Promo videos after the jump…....
 

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Posted by Martin Schneider
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11.02.2017
01:37 pm
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Mike Patton performs in his pajamas with Faith No More on MTV’s ‘Da Show’
11.02.2017
07:52 am
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Faith No More, early 1990s.
 
Da Show was a blink-and-you-missed-it program on MTV hosted by Doctor Dré (not to be confused with Dr. Dre of N.W.A) and Ed Lover of Yo! MTV Raps fame. It was best described as a kind of variety show that would welcome timely guests and musical acts including a rather epic appearance by Faith No More on December 26th, 1990. 

It’s been said that Faith No More was the only metal band to ever appear on the short-lived show and man, did they ever fucking bring it and then some to the studio’s tiny stage and live audience. After the band spits out a blistering version of “Epic,” Dré and Ed Lover crash the stage so Ed can do his famous(?) “Ed Lover Dance.” Following that Dré and Ed stick around on stage while Faith performs “Edge of the World,” a downtempo number from their 1989 album The Real Thing. This is yet another bizarro time capsule from the 90s that I had no idea even existed until today and the nine-plus minute video is well worth watching as the then 22-year-old Patton delivers a more than solid performance on this long-forgotten show. Patton in pajamas for the WIN!
 

Faith No More performing “Epic” and “Edge of the World” on the ‘Da Show.’
 
More after the jump…

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Posted by Cherrybomb
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11.02.2017
07:52 am
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The B-52s bring their mess around to the popular soap opera ‘Guiding Light,’ 1982
10.23.2017
06:35 am
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Guiding Light holds the record for the longest run of any soap opera. It debuted in 1952 as a narrative doled out in 15-minute increments and made it all the way to 2009, when it was replaced by Let’s Make a Deal, hosted by Wayne Brady. When a show is around that long, it’s tempting to say that “everything” happened on it, but that category doesn’t intuitively include appearances by influential new wave bands. Yet that did happen too.

In 1982 the B-52s appeared on an episode during a promotional tour for their David Byrne-produced EP Mesopotamia. The premise was that there was a venue in the town, which bore the name of Springfield (yes, Springfield), in which musical artists would appear. Apparently Judy Collins appeared in another episode. 

The two YouTube clips below capture the musical performances but not the parts in which Cindy, Kate, and Fred appear in a scene with some character from the show who aspires to be a professional musician. You can see the barest snippet of that scene in the VH-1 clip below. Oddly, the band ended up playing a non-single cut called “Throw That Beat in the Garbage Can” (at the request of the Guiding Light people, it seems) and “Private Idaho,” a track off of 1980’s Wild Planet.

Of course, it doesn’t matter what song they play, you know exactly what it’s going to be like and that it’s going to be great. 
 
Watch it all after the jump…...
 

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Posted by Martin Schneider
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10.23.2017
06:35 am
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