Vacation 2008: Day 7 - A long way from Denver

Nothing too elaborate today, just a pair of curious celebrity homages to the bespectacled golden-haired prince of the 1970's easy listening pantheon, courtesy of The Muppet Show...


Jim Nabors - Thank God I'm a Country Boy (from Episode #1.6; June 8, 1976) - Well, golleeeee! Sadly, Frank Sutton's heartfelt rendition of "Annie's Song" has been lost to the sands of time.


Cheryl Ladd - Sunshine on My Shoulders (from Episode #3.24; May 10, 1978) - The voice of an Angel (and a one-time Pussycat, too).

jam or butter

Behold the apex of human technological achievement...

THE MEAT TOASTER
I did briefly consider writing a longer piece dealing with this wonder of the modern (meaning "1971") world, and its significance in terms of consumer capitalism's twin tenets of planned obsolescence and creating demand for unnecessary products, but what more could I really add that isn't right there in the advertisement?

It's a toaster, only instead of cooking bread-related items, it cooks meat. Not Pop Tarts, but porterhouses. Not bagels, but bacon. Not scones, but sirloin. To reiterate, it is a toaster designed to cook animal flesh -- in short, a meat toaster.

That the shell-shocked consumers of the early 1970's failed to embrace the manifest greatness of a device that utilized the costly inefficiency of electric heating coils to perform in three hours what would otherwise be a twenty minute task with a conventional oven does not surprise me. Very rarely (no pun intended) is a prophet appreciated by his contemporaries, especially when he seems likely to cause accidental household fires (or is fundamentally incapable of accommodating sliced onions, mushrooms, or peppers within his sizzling, juicy message).

The Toasters - Fire in My Soul (from Don't Let the Bastards Grind You Down, 1997) - Sadly, a cool blast of ska is no substitute for a CO2-based flame suppression device.

The Meteors - Meat Is Meat (from Monkey's Breath, 1985) - From the musical meat locker comes this raw slab of 100% USDA certified psychobilly. Remember: The OTMAPP seal is a guarantee of eternal freshness.

Richard and Robert Sherman - Music To Buy Toasters By (from Retro Shopping Vol. 1, 2006) - How they rocked it out in Caldor's home appliance aisle back in the day. Muzak version of "Mahogany" not included.

last year's model

A snapshot of the cultural sensitivities of Nixonian America, as represented by two advertisements for model cars which appeared in DC comic books during that period:


Herb Alpert & The Tijuana Brass - Tijuana Taxi (from Going Places, 1965) - HONK HONK!

Happy hour at the Eden Roc's lounge: One-piece molded plastic chairs and the curved Formica surface of the well-stocked bar. The clientele sporting sharkskin suits and Brylcreem-lacquered "smart look" 'dos or pastel "Jackie O" ensembles and sky-high bouffants. They tap the ashes of their Kents into crystal ashtrays while sipping at their Tom Collinses or vodka martinis, and over the din of casual conversation can be heard the peppy, suburbanite-safe sounds of light quasi-Latin jazz, the echoes of which will resonate in shopping plazas and elevators for decades to come.


Dead Kennedys - California Über Alles (from Fresh Fruit for Rotting Vegetables, 1980) - This cautionary ditty about the dark side of paternalistic liberalism (resolved fortunately by America's drunken stagger toward petit-fascist ideology) came up on the Zune's driving playlist during the commute home last Tuesday, and it reminded me that I voted for Jerry Brown in the 1992 Democratic primary.

Oh, what a lovely thing the American political system is, offering each and every voter the opportunity to choose between getting devoured by fire ants or drowned in a bucket of slaughterhouse offal.

the angels got together

I've tried on more than a couple occasions to make sense of the theology under which the Archie-verse operates, but have yet to reconcile the many troubling doctrinal contradictions at work in Greater Riverdale during the early 1970's. While Christian fundamentalist overtones were unmistakably (and vehemently) present, there were also strong occultist (if not outright diabolic) undercurrents in the mix, such as classroom discipline through Satanically-directed face melting (apparently face-melting was "in" that year) and the presence of an actual coven of witches within the city limits. While I would qualify that last example by stating that Sabrina did repudiate, more or less, the dark side of her sorcerous heritage, she did still dabble in forbidden arcanery very frequently.

(Come to think of it, Sabrina has a lot in common with Orion, the son of Darkseid, in that both have attempted to turn their backs on their unpleasant family legacies yet make use of their gifts of heritage when circumstances require it. I smell a fab slashfic idea!)

Over in Josie and The Pussycats, the writers tried to split the Manichean difference with stories engineered to cash in on the popcult explosion of interest in all things occult (engendered by the runaway success of The Exorcist, among other things) while retaining a state of proper Christian grace. The whole teen rock band concept was pushed aside for a time in favor of numerous supernatural-themed stories involving haunted houses, ancient curses, and other manifestations of spiritual evil.

"Vengeance from the Crypt" from Josie and The Pussycats #72 (October 1973), finds the 'Cats setting aside their ongoing feud with the scheming Alexandra as they accompany their frequent foil to the Cabot family crypt. While Alexandra pays her respects to her recently departed grandfather, Josie wanders down to the crypt's lower level, where she accidentally huffs a lungful of uncut Stygian black smoke:

The hit of damnation dust causes Josie to behave in strange and terrible ways.

First she tries to set the Cabots' drapes on fire...

...and then she begins trashing the furniture.

And while those actions in and of themselves might not suggest demonic possession over the more mundane explanation that Josie is simply discovering her inner Keith Moon, her vicious attack on the vision of loveliness that is Melody...

...pushes her beyond the limits of acceptable behavior, rock star or not.

Alex, Alexandra's twin brother and the Pussycats' manager, attempts to subdue Josie, who has moved on to the profanity-shrieking stage of possession:

During the struggle, Josie reaches for something suitable to bash Alex's head in with, but accidentally grabs a conveniently-placed Bible instead. With "a scream from the very bowels of Hell," an agonized Josie throws the Good Book away from her person. This gives the rest of the crew an idea, which results in one of the greatest panels in comics history...

PRAISE JESUS!
The full bikini exorcism is a success, and the unclean spirit is cast out of Josie...

...though the implied place of its exit is better left unsaid, methinks. "Bowels of Hell," indeed. (I have exorcised many diabolic fast food meals from my body in a similar manner.)

The arrival of the elder Mr. Cabot sheds some light on the source of the demonic incursion. A spinster aunt of the Cabots had cursed the family on her deathbed, and had somehow mobilized the legions of Hell to intercede on her behalf, with the gruntwork subcontracted through an unwitting Josie. (It may sound like an efficient arrangement, but just try and get the Hadean comptroller's office to sign off on a work-for-hire pay voucher.)

Armed with this new knowledge, the gang decides to put an end to the curse, but not before indulging in some pre-game hosannas...

I'd just like to point out that Alexandra herself is a practitioner of the dark arts who has used her witchity powers to vex the Pussycats on several previous occasions.

She must be a Unitarian.

Down inside the crypt, the kids are all set to unleash some Deuteronomic whoop-ass on the wayward aunt's earthly remains...

...only to discover that the Big G has beaten them to the punch. I suppose incinerating a old casket is easier than, I don't know, solving world hunger or some other work with wider beneficial consequences, but I'd have thought an omnipotent and omniscient Being would set the bar higher for Himself or Herself.

So what have we learned today?

1. You may think you're being with it and groovy, but snorting ectoplasm can have dangerous consequences.

2. Always keep a Bible handy, lest your bikini-clad friend go on a demonic rampage in your living room.

3. Don't piss off spinster aunts, and if you do, don't inter her body in the family crypt, but instead leave the corpse out to be worried by jackals.

4. Archie comics stories from the early 70's are really fucking disturbing.

Josie and The Pussycats - Real Wild Child (from the Josie and The Pussycats OST, 2001) - Featuring Kay Hanley on vocals. I know there are some of you out there who will violently disagree, but I thought the movie was pretty entertaining, and far better than what I expected, even if I can never fully accept the idea of professional booze vacuum Tara Reid as the goodhearted and pure Melody.

Josie and The Pussycats - (They Long to Be) Close to You (from Josie and The Pussycats, 1970; collected on Stop, Look, & Listen: The Capitol Recordings, 2001) - Just in case you didn't get your full RDA of diabolic evil for today.

here forever in the beauty

Because I had nothing else planned for today and because my brother recently brought the story to my attention, we're going to take a brief guided tour through the acid-eaten pages of Captain America & The Falcon #164 (August 1973). Written by Steve Englehart and illustrated by Alan Weiss (no relation), "Queen of the Werewolves" finds the heroic duo investigating suspected hijinx at a remote prison which, as typical for the genre, resembles a set from a 1930's Universal horror film. Under the management of the slinky (and somewhat underdressed) Nightshade, the facility has embarked on a "rehabilitation though lycanthropy" program for the inmates.

The Star-Spangled Avenger is less than pleased with the results (which the maternally-minded Nightshade calls her "babies") and proceeds to kick some man-beast tail. After witnessing the werewolves' inability to subdue the good Captain, the project's secret backer -- revealed to be the evil mastermind and lemon-hued racist caricature known as the Yellow Claw -- decides to cut Nightshade's funding. Unable to secure alternative financing for her work, Nightshade throws herself off the prison roof in despair.

Based on that brief synopsis, "Queen of the Werewolves" sounds replete with the full complement of drag-and-drop plot elements common to many Marvel superhero stories from that wild and crazy era. It's a reasonable assumption to make, yet an incomplete one, as it fails to consider a few things that push the story out of the pedestrian territory and into the realm of the inexplicably bizarre.

Things like...

HAPPY CAP IS HAPPY!
Cap-life regression captions!
Werewolf BDSM!
Scream, Were-Falcon, Scream!
Nightshade's sexadelic emotiveness!
I'm quite fond of Alan Weiss's art, but I don't think his particular style is a good fit with superhero genre material. It's especially true in this story, where Nightshade's provocative poses are consistently at odds with what's being expressed in the dialogue and captions -- as in the above panel, for example, or when she's sprawled across a computer console like an auto-show model while agonizing over the Claw's lack of support.

Her use of "babies," rather than the standard "pets" or "pretties," in regard to her were-minions is also disturbingly off-putting in a vaguely Freudian manner (though that might just be me). Cap's remark upon meeting her (as she suggestively waves one of Falcon's stray feathers about her person) that "She's a little girl -- posing, playing grown-up" doesn't help matters, either.

As grotty as that aspect of the story is, it still comes nowhere close to the truly inexplicable appearance of...

NICK FURRY, MOUNTAIN MAN OF S.H.I.E.L.D.!
Words fail me.

The Frantics - Werewolf (from The Complete Frantics, 2004) - No, not the folks behind the agressively unfunny "Boot to the Head" comedy sketch, but a Puget Sound rock 'n' roll outfit active during the late 50's and early 60's (and who backed Bobby Darrin on "Dream Lover"). Excellent stuff indeed.

Thom Pace - Maybe (Theme to Grizzly Adams) (from Television's Greatest Hits, Vol. 5: In Living Color, 1996) - This is the short version used in the eco-positive 70's TV series (which I learned was produced by Sunn Classics, of In Search of Noah's Ark and Hangar 18 fame). This song never fails to make the wife a little misty-eyed when she hears it.

love and a tube of burn salve

One of the advantages of the switch to direct market sales of comics in the 1980's was that it opened the way for more mature content. Titles like Watchmen, American Flagg!, and The Dark Knight Returns took full advantage of the newly-expanded boundaries and are quite rightfully lauded as pioneering classics of contemporary sequential art.

Oh, and comics fans also got a disturbing glimpse into the consequences of intimate relations between a winged woman and a walking nuclear furnace:

It comes courtesy of Legion of Super-Heroes #58 (March 1989; by Levitz, Giffen, and Gordon). I had managed to suppress it from my memory for years, until I dug the issue out in preparation for yesterday's post.

I assume that the intent was to show the tragic plight of these star-crossed lovers and how Dawnstar's devotion to Wildfire trancends concerns about coitus-related immolation. As scripted by Paul Levitz, though, it ends up feeling creepy and weird -- evoking memories of that certain romantic partner almost all of us have had in the past who carves your initials in their arm with a hunting knife or who sets fire to your garage as an act of their undying love. (They talk about suicide pacts with alarming frequency, too.)

I'm actually pretty fond of Levitz's run on the Legion, especially when he was collaborating with Keith Giffen, but something about his dialogue always seemed a bit off-kilter to me, like watching a foreign film where the subtitles were written by a translator with an impeccable grasp for the mechanics of the language, but no concept of its ideomatic-slash-linguistic soul. It might work well enough in the artificial realm of the the superheroic genre, but not so much in the bedroom. Throw a reference to ointments into the mix, and it becomes the stuff of which nightmares are made.

Then again, it did give my an idea for my own Legion-related miniseries pitch:

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Bonnie Tyler - Sometimes When We Touch (from Goodbye to the Island, 1981) - Wait, this isn't the Rod Stewart version of the Dan Hill easy listening classic? How could anyone even tell?

X - Burning House of Love (from Ain't Love Grand! 1985) - Out goes producer Ray Manzarek, in comes the guy who produced Motley Crue and Great White albums; out goes the band's rough-and-tumble sound, in comes the biggest hit of their career. The universe can be a really fucked up place at times.

The Vibrants - Wildfire (from Lost Legends of Surf Guitar, Vol. 3, 2003) - I was this close to posting the Michael Martin Murphey track of the same name, but I just couldn't bring myself to do it. What does it profit a man if he makes an attempt at ironic humor, yet loses his soul?

not an imaginary story

I noticed that there's a trend among the hip, witty, and smart comics-blogging set to sit down with a copy of Previews, the monthly distributor's catalog of comics and related nerd detritus, and comment on the good, bad, and ugly found within its pages.

I used to look forward to the arrival of each fresh issue of Previews in my (my wife's, actually) subscription box, and would give it an intense going over, marking page after page of stuff I probably didn't need but certainly wanted. As I underwent my slow transition from nerd faithful to nerd agnostic, I found myself falling out of my impulse purchasing habits and my perusals grew less enthusiastic and more infrequent, leaving the advance ordering in Maura's hands.

But, hey! Maura happened to leave the current issue on the coffee table and all the cool kids are doing write-ups on it, so why not try my own hand in this sordid business?

This may take a while to flip through, so please enjoy this soothing bossa nova/lounge classic while you wait for me to finish:

Sérgio Mendes & Brasil '66 - Mas Que Nada (from Herb Alpert Presents..., 1966)

Let's see...not interested...not interested...more licensed nonsense...cookie cutter manga titles...jeez, is there a character in the Star Wars universe whose backstory hasn't been the basis of a 12-issue miniseries?

Expensive retrological kipple for deep pocketed hipsters...continuity porn...one million Countdown tie-ins for Emperor Didio...oh, look, the rush to ride on Phonogram's coat tails has begun...there aren't nearly enough Batman action figures...Boobies!

Wow, it's taking longer than I thought. Here's another familiar, retro easy listening standard to tide you over:

Herb Alpert & The Tijuana Brass - Spanish Flea (from Going Places, 1965) - "Bachelor #1, if I was a graded fine condition copy of Giant Size X-Men #1, how would you handle me?"

Back at it...not interested...looks actionably similar to another, better title...wait for the trade paperback release...no, I don't give a shit about how funny your nerd friends are...the same applies to your role-playing game war stories...sorry, your webcomic wasn't worth reading when it was free, never mind reprinted on paper for three bucks...not interested...wow, how can that woman stay upright with that spine and those breasts?

Dead horse flogging...I don't need to read your sanctioned fanfic about a supporting character in a cancelled TV show...I think the franchise appeal has gone past its due date...not interested...when you reach that tier of character recognizability, it's time to find something new to make statues of....too expensive at half the price...boobies....more boobies...I'd like to know the market for this, because they have too much money and would be willing to part with it for some magic beans from my garden, I suspect...and Sterling and Lartigue have both pointed this out already, but seriously, WHY LORD WHY? (No, I do not want to hear the answer to that.)

Thank Providence that Maura doesn't pick up Marvel's too-cool-for-school separate catalog of advance solicitations, or hospitalization might have been required.

Apart from a newfound respect for those brave souls who willingly submit themselves to this torture on a monthly basis, I came away from my foolishly self-inflicted ordeal with a whopping list of three things that caught my interest:

1. Metal Men #3 - The first issue of this relaunch featuring DC's goofy Silver Age psuedo-science icons was a pretty solid read, if a bit too cluttered with the CRAZY-ASS WOW factor so in vogue these days. Personally, I'd have preferred it to skew a bit more towards Bob Kanigher's 1960's take and less towards present-day Grant Morrison's, but I know I'm in the minority.

2. Yotsuba&! Vol. 5 - I'm really glad I discovered this book just as ADV began to resume publishing new volumes on a regular basis. It's just so damn charming without feeling syrupy or contrived.

3. the Final Fantasy VII statue featuring Aeris channeling the Lifestream - It's more along Maura's line than mine, and the $220 price tag places it beyond the threshold of justifiable purchase, but, wow, is it nice.

Captain Sensible - (What d'Ya Give) The Man Who's Gotten Everything? (from a 1982 7"; collected on A-Sides, Part 1, 1995) - When the Captain of The Damned met Crass. How cool is that?

The Adventures of H and O: New Markets

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Yep, it’s true. John Oates co-wrote Icehouse’s 1987 hit “Electric Blue” with that band’s frontman, Iva Davies. Although the song did get some college radio airplay, “Electric Blue” (I keep wanting to type “Electric Youth,” bur that’s a horse of a different color, pun sort of intended.) was a big crossover success far removed from the creepiness of their earlier material. Icehouse’s countrymen in the band INXS had undergone a similar evolution away from their new wave roots, but moved toward a more arena rock sound. It’s a long way from “The One Thing” to “Bitter Tears.”

Icehouse – Electric Blue (from Man of Colours, 1987)

I wonder what a Daryl Hall/Ministry collaboration would have sounded like. Probably not too far removed from the material on With Sympathy, the 1983 black sheep in the band’s discography, which consists of gloomy synthpop with a heavy British influence. (Al Jourgensen’s faux English accent on “Revenge” is a hoot and a half.) The late 80’s industrial incarnation of Ministry was responsible for stripping away any last vestiges of heavy metal madness that may have lingered into my punk rock days. Tracks like “Burning Inside” and “Stigmata” delivered a blistering sonic assault that made even the heaviest death metal acts of the time sound anemic by comparison, and were refreshingly free of metal’s obligatory clichés and excesses.

Twenty years of genre bleed have seen Jourgensen’s musical innovations become another generation of heavy metal clichés. These days I’m more likely than not to get my Ministry fix from the more sedate sounds of With Sympathy, but I still give The Land of Rape and Honey or The Mind Is a Terrible Thing to Taste the occasional spin whenever I feel the need to blow the carbon out of my aural engine.

Ministry – Burning Inside (from The Mind Is a Terrible Thing to Taste, 1989)

The Adventures of H and O: The Plan

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Like many ills that plague this world, this is Brandon Bragg's fault. While brainstorming the Civil War post, I remembered a scene from the late 1980's "Armor Wars" arc where Captain America was the voice of civic responsibility and a jheri-curled Iron Man was the lawbreaking renegade. When I showed the panels to Brandon, he suggested I should "mine the shit out that issue and turn it into a monthly Hall and Oates strip."

So here you go. Further installments to follow as the whim strikes me, until I run out of lame gags or get hit with a cease and desist order. Don't expect any musical accompaniment. I'm no stranger to self-loathing, but I draw the line at posting Hall and Oates tracks...