Music Questions and Groovy Ghouls

I hope this video plays on other sites and in most countries. If you can, take in this visual and auditory information, then consult with me when you have finished your assignment.

OK, to be honest, I have nothing profound to say about this. I pick up this and that, trivial info, from random curiosities and wikipedia, but the answers are often lacking. You can never really know what it was like to be there. So I’m still left with a few questions.

The lead singer of the Mary Jane Girls was a protégé & / or collaborator with Rick James, and I think the only actual MJ Girl on the recorded track. The other girls were stand-ins for tours, promotion, image. I expect on tour they’d just lip synch at most concerts, so they didn’t even need singing skills. Probably they were dancers first. But did they sing? I know sometimes singers would try to do the whole package as performers, sometimes with tragic results (I’m thinking of a breathless sweaty Paula Abdul performance on MTV Music Awards from long ago). How singin’ were the non-recorded Mary Jane Girls?

The lead MJG was a singer first and a dancer / performer second, right? I think it’s funny to imagine she just danced how she felt and the dancing girls had to try to coordinate to that. Try to keep up girls. Probably not, but who knows?

Other random thought, why is the white girl in a skeleton costume? I do think the combination of light eyes, blonde hair, and heavy makeup evokes the doll-look possession in the first Evil Dead movie, so she’s kinda ghoulish. I know cocaine was huge in this scene, which creates a strong association between the color white and death, but surely that’s my own projection. It’s just weird that one of them had a ghoul outfit and the rest didn’t. The song does have a spoopy vibe, anyway.

Still from Evil Dead (1979)

I rather like eighties funk, though I’m no expert on it. I feel like it lost something in the transition from the seventies, like feeling and soul, and then replaced that with this cold alien drug vibe that has a different and perverse kind of appeal. What do you think?

–

The Midnight Collection Lives!

My man Joseph Kelly has finally published the first volume of The Midnight Collection, a compilation of dark fiction I’ve previously mentioned. He was originally intent on it being sold at zero profit, but in order to get an ISBN there was a minimum price that results in some amount of profit. Fear not, Mr. Kelly will surely not even make minimum wage on the effort it took to make this happen. You have a few options on how to read it – and one is completely gratis. I’ll explain that later.

The Midnight Collection is aiming to go quarterly – the next volume already in progress – and this first installment is themed “Feast & Famine.” I’m pimping this because I’m a contributor, and I’d love to hear what you think of my stories. Although I am really curious what reviewers, casual or serious, will think of all the stories. I have a personal opinion about which story is the best, and wonder how well that lines up with the consensus view.

This is a truly unusual collection. Despite the uniting theme, it’s as diverse as the members of our secret cabal of writers. There’s poetry, comedy, LGBT+ representation, and dark fiction ranging from traditional ’80s style horror to fantasy and sci-fi. Some of the writers are more conventional, some quite avant garde or ferocious. A little tour of the table of contents:

PEOPLE POT PIES – Brett Elijah Shelton
This short horror poem was written by my brother a very long time ago. Should it have been published? Is the world ready? You decide.

SATURNALIA – Lydia Moody
The first proper story in the book is a murder mystery featuring a nonbinary protagonist, in a style the author aptly dubbed “cozy splatterpunk.”

A GRIMM MARKET – Kirsten Aucoin
A modern take on Hansel and Gretel, of course, and as a child of poverty, I found something to relate to in the motives and experiences of these H&Gs.

BUTTERCREAM – Joseph Kelly
Like People Pot Pies to my brother, this is an older story by my lovin’ man, published here for the first time. A young character has been rousted into service at a child’s birthday party. Naturally the festivities take an ill turn. I find it very artistic. This might be the closest entry in the book to the genre of Literary Fiction.

ORTOLAN – Sascha Masoch
Another poem, this one penned specifically for the collection, and it couldn’t be more different from my brother’s opening act. The title refers to the ortolan bunting, a songbird most famed for being subject to very French cruelty.

BLOOD IS THICKER THAN BILE – Athena Victoria
The book’s dark fantasy tale. A fancy queen is harried by a demonic figure. This story brings the color – especially the red.

LOCUSTS – Bébé Mélange
My first entry, under my main nom de plume! I tried my hand at sci-fi poetry. I wonder what FtB’s own T.D. Walker would think. This is not my area of expertise as a writer, but I like to think the concept carries it – mad science used to resurrect capitalism in a world that had somehow killed it and moved on.

SAPSUCKER – Joseph Kelly
Another by my boyfriend, this one in a genre and style that compares well to Clive Barker – while still being its own gay thing. An artist has rented a cabin to get some paintings done, but a very sticky horror calls to him from the woods.

SUPPLY CHAIN BANDITOS – Bébé Mélange
It’s me again! Don’t worry. We have more contributors lined up for volume two, so it’ll have less of me. Here I try my hand at a kind of gentle dark comedy. A post-apocalypse scenario is gradually revealed, with roots in our present day lives.

EZEKIEL DRIFT – Damian Golfinopolous
Snowy weather for your late summer / early fall, Damian is a multi-talented artist from New Zealand, bringing post-apocalyptic sci-fi to the collection. Or is it supernatural? What’s really going on here?

FOUR – Christopher Scott Shelton
You might recognize this author’s name from the corners of these artworks. Possibly the most pretentious work in the collection, this one is a vaguely Napoleonic period piece about the horrors of war.

FRESSEN – Caesar Train Magenta
You might recognize this author’s name from here, or an early version of this short essay from here. The volume is brought to a close in a Rod Serling style monologue.

“Partie de Plaisirs” (detail) – Pierre Etienne Moitte (after Nicolas Lancret)

HOW DO I READ THE MIDNIGHT COLLECTION?

The way that results in the most direct support for future volumes is through Ko-fi. For a minimum three dollar donation, you can download the e-book in formats that work with most e-readers. The best way to view the interior illustrations, and have a nice artifact for your bookshelf, is by purchasing the paperback through Lulu. You may be able to purchase it through other sites soon, but it’s nice to not give Bezuggs a cut, and purchase on Lulu gives more money to the cause. And lastly, as promised, you can just read it for free at the Collection’s website.

There are a few original works by authors (nice!) but most of the illustrations are lovingly curated from public domain resources, like the picture to the right here – one of my faves. Some version of some of the illustrations are available on the website, more in the e-book, but yes, the best way to appreciate them is a hard copy.

I’d love to see reviews, either of the whole package or individual stories. For lowest effort you can drop some general thoughts in the comments below this article. You can also leave comments on the individual stories at the Midnight Collection’s site. And of course, you can review it wherever it is available for purchase. Thanks!

EDIT TO ADD:  Somebody international couldn’t use a card to purchase it through ko-fi so begrudgingly there is now an e-book on Amazon as well. Purchase your e-book there if you must, but know that if you do it on ko-fi, the format should work on any modern kindle as well.

–

 

PS: I mentioned before I’m going to release my first novel soon, keep your eyes open for that as well…

Imminent Business

I have some medical stuff going on this Friday, and have been very preoccupied with that and crash editing my novel.  Will probably have some kind of announcement within a few weeks about the novel coming out, not much until then.  So, like, bis später, meine Leute.  Hasta luego, all that kind of thing.  Peace.

–

Songs I’m Liking

Some days I get horrible mashups of bad songs in my head, most recently from watching Todd in the Shadows‘ “One Hit Wonderland” series on yewchoob.  Today I’m doing OK.  Did you know that the milieu of Tenacious D’s demons and broadswords universe was once a real place, inhabited by people like Ronny James Dio and Judas Priest?  Anyway, Judas Priest’s The Sentinel features a demonic revenant doing a throwing knife massacre.  I love it.

Also on my mind is Prince’s Kiss.  Neil Cicieraga did a remix of it which seems inspired by pure loathing, or perhaps misunderstanding that the funny aspects of the song were originally meant to be funny, and it comes off like he didn’t get the joke – a rare thing for Neil, who is a sharp musical wit.  Or it might be that any recognition of Prince’s appeal was soured by his estate’s litigiousness, a trait which may be the reason I can no longer find a link for that.

This morning I was listening to The Sound’s album Jeopardy.  I only got as far as the end of “Missiles” before I needed to tend some chore.  The lead off track “I can’t Escape Myself” is the best bad self esteemin’ song ever, sad and terrible, but beautiful rock and roll.  “Hour of Need” is a great companion to it.  Every time I hear those songs I think of the sad goths in my life with affection.  “Missiles” doesn’t have the most clever lyrics in the universe, but the late lead singin’ man’s voice elevates it to a passionate expression of frustration we all feel being in a world of nukes and war – shit regular people are nigh powerless to stop.

Sing it, baby.

–

Are You Bored Again?

FtB hasn’t been very hoppin’ lately, so you may be seeking something to read.  Last time I noted this, I came up with a list of good articles I’d written that received little attention at the time I posted them.  You could revisit that, if you didn’t avail yourself the first time.  Something else that could be fun to read: My short-lived RP by Comment.  Cartomancer was the last man standing in that exercise in collaborative writing*, and he brought it to a very meta and amusing conclusion.  Thanks, Cartomancer.

When I was a young man*, Pepsi ran a slogan “Be young, Have fun, Drink Pepsi.”  You Could win a prize by collecting cans that were printed in the bottom with each word of the creepy demand.  But the print inside the can was only 2-3 letters, which worked out to BE YNG HAV FUN DRK PEP.  As you survive another season of fire, invoke this ancient spell to summon Pepsiman to protect you.

BE YNG HAV FUN DRK PEP.  Now gimme the prize.

–

*some would say “egg” but it felt appropriate enough at that time so i let this kind of thing stand.

Y’all Don’t Even Know

Some Great American Satan writing will be coming to book form soon!  There’s a compilation in which I have a few submissions, soon to be published, and if I pull off this wild last-minute dash thing I’m working on, my first novel may also come available within a week of that!  Here’s the back cover of that collection.  I’m the Bébé Mélange and none of the described scenes are from my submissions…

The collection is going to be sold at zero profit, but my novel – The Septagram – will involve at least some reward for me other than thronging fans.  I’ll get into that in more depth sometime within the next few weeks here.

–

Poetry Advice?

Just in case I get hit by a bus before august of 2023 (feeling imminent bus hit vibes at the moment for reasons), I wanna do something special for my boyfriend’s birthday.  Safe to talk about it here because he only reads posts I call to his attention.  Anyway, I’d like to write him a poem, but I can’t think of an approach that feels right.

He doesn’t like to think about his corporeal existence so talk about how he physically appeals to me should probably be kept to a minimum.  I’m way out of practice being romantic because I excised most of those feelings from my head in response to some bad relationships past, and the rest bled out when age diminished my ardor (sez the 46 year old geezer).

Any poets, bards, or modern day troubadours in my audience have a notion?  A form or structure for poems you’re liking lately?  An angle for waxing poetic when inspiration is hard to pin down?  I could contemplate this guy in writing here, but he’s a private person and I’d best not.  Not sure what to say.

–

Poached

My spam filter was getting a bunch of bot comments advertising poaching adventures for evil whiteys.  An evil whitey who was involved in helping arrange that kind of shit was found executed gangland style in South Africa.  I’d like to think that was the work of somebody who cares about nature, but realistically it was a fellow gangster that will likely continue in the same line of business.  However, I am no longer seeing those particular comments in my spam trap.  Almost certainly a coincidence, but again, I’d like to think…

–

The Rift – Our William Brinkman’s New Novel

Our FtB man William Brinkman is dropping a novel for y’all this week – on July 13th, my birthday.  But I had a birthday present in June when he made a review copy available to his people.  Thanks, man.  Below the fold are some very long form thoughts I had before and during my read.  Above that, the review I’ll post wherever I have an account.

***

I had a good time reading this book, though I had some reservations before I started.  As soon as the adventurous part of the story began – which was pretty quickly – you could feel the author entering his comfort zone.  With all the disappointment and crap involved in Disney’s monopoly on entertainment, I’ve been hoping to see more adventurous fiction that doesn’t rely on any of their properties – in spirit, like fic with the serial numbers filed off.  And being an AMAB reader over the age of forty, post-YA wasn’t going to do it for me either.

The Rift was an entertaining high speed journey into Brinkman’s “Bolingbrook Babbler” universe, inspired by the UFO / amazing bat-boy end of the tabloid spectrum, and best of all it required no prior knowledge of his oeuvre.  We follow a character being introduced to the world of paranormal conspiracies and don’t have to choke on a bunch of references to deep lore.

This is one of those books that *needed* to be self-published because it’s too unconventional, too niche, to be sold to major publishers.  You can have a story with wild original content, but to sell that it needs to fit into some kind of recognizable mold, like surreal literary fiction or magical realism.  The Rift is genre fiction in a very functional 20th century style, without the frippery of Catherynne Valente or poetic ostentation of litfic regulars.

I’d place it in what was once called “men’s fiction” – the kind of adventure stories that once sat near the checkout stands at supermarkets, like the tabloids that provided The Rift’s milieu.  Stories about spies, war, survival, treachery.  And yet it isn’t a very comfortable fit for that genre either.  The ladies in those stories are objects and props, and this one takes pains to establish that ladies have lives and agendas wholly independent of our adventuring protagonist.

That said, The Rift does center the perspective of a man who becomes enmeshed in the world of internet misogyny.  Of course he has a shot at redemption and can change in the course of the story, but the close third person perspective on him could be off-putting to those who have been most bothered by those internet misogynists in real life – regardless of the author’s intentions and the story’s ultimate direction.

Which gets us back to the issue of niche.  While this novel does not depend on prior knowledge of Brinkman’s Babblerverse, I feel it does require some knowledge of skepticism as a culture, and of the rift that brings us the title.  If you don’t understand what skeptics are about, the story’s introduction to the concept might feel off-putting or confusing.  If you weren’t privy to the fall-out of “elevatorgate,” when the skeptic movement split into progressive and reactionary factions, then you might have a harder time understanding the very point of the story and most of the events within it.

Even within that subculture, the book could lose audience from its concept alone.  As I mentioned, the progressives burned by the IRL conflict may have very little interest in seeing a redemption tale play out.  Hopefully the ten years since the furor began will help them get past that enough to read the novel.  It handles the subject very well.  Everything that starts to feel insensitive, or like a misstep, is ultimately redeemed through the story’s plot.  It’s kind of brilliant at that, playing its hand with more subtlety than you might expect.

And all that said, maybe I’m not giving the average non-skeptic-culture reader enough credit here.  If the price is right and you like the idea of a feminist sci-fi adventure in a tabloid UFO setting, give it a shot.  And if you are in the book’s target demo – skeptic culture warriors – definitely pick this one up.

Full Disclosure: William Brinkman and I are both writers on the same blog network, which is for progressives within atheism and skepticism.

***

Now for the deeper thoughts I had, which probably make this one of my longest articles ever, haha…

[Read more…]

Happy Gunpowder Day

Happy That-Time-of-the-Year-When-Gunshot-Murders-Take-Longer-to-Investigate-Because-They-are-Indistinguishable-From-Asshole-Ideas-of-a-Good-Time Day.  Happy Explosion Day.  Happy Give-Songbirds-and-Some-Humans-Heart-Attacks Day.  Happy Increase-in-Dog-Bites Day.  Happy Celebrate-the-Nation-Built-on-Genocide-and-Slavery-that-is-Still-Fucking-Your-Own-Personal-Rights-Apart Day.  Happy Your-President-Proudly-Does-His-Part-to-Facilitate-Human-Fucking-Extinction Day.

Death to America, babey.  Death to America.

–