I listen to The Essential collection for music — But these are in the vinyl stacks:
Yeah, these are from the late ’60s when everybody was trying to be wild ‘n’ crazy like rock LPs.
PS for KIDZ: the position of the cheater guy’s hand was a then-hi-school fave dipshit game. You held your hand like than and some sucker tried to poke a finger through the hole before you pulled it away (classic no-tech, right?). If the sucker failed (99.99999% of the time) you got to punch him in — well, us nice guys did the shoulder.
Hmmmmm. Writer/director/producer Jordan Peele got his breakout on MADtv. MAD magazine took off when the line of EC horror comics was effectively censored. Get Out is perfect as a no-holds-barred current combo of EC and MAD on screen. Something has come full circle. Whoo-hooo-haa-HAAAH!
The ghost of William Gains has opened one of the most expensive bottles in his otherworldly wine cellar.
I see there’s a burst of interest so it’s time for …
WEIRD MICKEY MOUSE #4
I tried to make up for decades of underrating him by doing a “Fresh Air” review of his biography. Now, in the latest bad joke in this banner year for bad jokes, the final, long-lost Kurtzman work has been reissued by Kitchen Sink Press — the original magazine was sponsored by Hugh Hefner and only lasted two issues and was called … wait for it … Trump.
It’s hard to explain now how impossible it was to find stuff like Trump once it was gone from the magazine stands. Kitchen Sink has done a first-rate job of reprinting all the published work and even the unfinished fragments that were to appear in the third issue.
So I’m working my way through it. Jack Davis’s magnificent satire “Rin Tin Tin Rin Tin” is highly recommended to Susan Orlean, if only because Davis draws the most outrageously perfect “psycho” dog imaginable. (Can’t seem to find even a single panel of the art on line. Damnation.)
Have to add, through no calculation of their own, this turns out to be the most apt year to release a blues album since back when they did that alla time.
Excellent piece on one of my all-time favorite artists, Francis Picabia — the Dada-est of the Dadaists.
Picabia is soulless.
This is all too true. Explains how an artist can be a favorite without being loved.There’s this guy Andy Warhol.