JOYCE WANKABLE #2
-----------------------------------------
ASCII version
created in BBEdit Lite 3.0
word wrap is 70 characters per line 
display in a monospaced font
-----------------------------------------
HERBERT GAMBILL, editor
hgambill@rbdc.rbdc.com
4211 S. Main St.
Winston-Salem, NC 27127
-----------------------------------------
available on the World Wide Web at
<http://www.rbdc.com/~hgambill/joyce.htm>
-----------------------------------------
ASCII back issues available from
ftp.etext.org/pub/zines/joywank
-----------------------------------------

CONTENTS:

In JOYCE #2 (released July 20, 1995):

[items in brackets not included in this ASCII version]

* Interview with RONNIE CRAMER, director of "Even Hitler Had a
Girlfriend," called "The best drive-in movie of 1992" by Joe Bob
Briggs. Also, a poem by Testy Louise.

* Interview with SOUTHERN CULTURE ON THE SKIDS, JOYCE's favorite
Chapel Hill band, who have a new CD on the Geffen label coming out
August 15.

* JOYCE loves CONAN O'BRIEN and here you'll find an [archive] of the
show abstracts (summaries) I and four others have started posting on
the alt.fan.conan-obrien newsgroup. Plus, weekly [frame captures]
from the show.

* E-ZINE REVIEWS I have contributed to Blaise Faint's new e-zine
review archive: Crank, Pete & Bernie's Philosophical Steakhouse,
Cocktail. A [frame capture] of zine editor DISHWASHER PETE's recent
appearance on "David Letterman." [And the full text of my response to
CHIP'S CLOSET CLEANER editor Chip Rowe's e-zine survey, excerpts of
which appear in his article on e-zines in the current issue of
FACTSHEET 5 (#56).] Also, short humor ("The Sixties") by me and a
Ramone de Sika poem.

* Pathetic Lust & [PORN STAR POLAROIDS]: Davey of San Francisco sends
us one of him spanking Madison; Bob of Durham contributes his
polaroid of Nikki Dial on his lap during her recent appearance in
Raleigh, NC. Also: Fuzzy's Wanknotes and poems by Fuzzy and Ramone de
Sika.

* Letters from Mr. Thrifty, our Seattle correspondent, this time
reporting from the editing room of ROBERT ALTMAN's new film, "Kansas
City."

* SPANKABLE: things that might get you a trip to the woodshed. Like
Cookie Bush's admission of her "ball-licking" love for Lee Harvey
Oswald, BEN OHMART's odd short fiction ("Sinus Says"), and Sir
Winalot (aka DARREN LAWRENCE, editor of Pete & Bernie's Philosophical
Steakhouse e-zine) on buying used records in Reading, UK.

* Music Reviews by Tracey Fincher (SEA & CAKE) and me (Falling
Wallendas, Haze), bang-a-tune notes, a blues number by Fuzzy and yet
another poem by Ramone de Sika, who tells me he yearns for the day
when Wankable is Bankable and not just Spankable!

-----------------------------------------

INTRODUCTION

This is the pathetic ASCII (text only) version of JOYCE WANKABLE #2.
Here's almost all of the text to the webpages of my e-zine. You're
missing the color photographs: boxcovers of Ronnie Cramer's videos
and panels from his comic book; pictures of SCOTS and frame captures
from the video of their interview here; polaroids of pornstars
Madison and Nikki Dial, a frame capture of Hope Sandoval in sunlight
and so on. Which is of course why you ought to get full internet
access so you can use a graphical web browser like NETSCAPE. The
punchline is that you can get that for much less than the cost of
commercial online services (assuming you use them for more than 10
hours a month). Oh, well... If you like JOYCE (and can receive
attachments from Internet addresses with your e-mail) you can e-mail
me and request a JPEG collage of graphics from this issue. You can
display it and read this and pretend you're one the World Wide Web.

JOYCE is a Winston-Salem, North Carolina-based e-zine. I release it
every two or three months depending upon the jump I have in my step
and the jack I have in my sack.

I went through this ASCII version carefully but I may have missed a
reference here or there to things on the webpages that won't apply to
this text-only version.

Send me demo tapes, CDs, books, zines: I'll review it and you'll
enjoy a limited sort of fame. The JOYWANK #1 website was accessed
about 15,000 times and I expect two or three times that for JOYWANK
#2. Who are these 15,000 people? I don't know. Probably some Air
Force guy in the Arctic Circle punching up my webzine 15,000 times.
On the other hand, I guess I, like print magazines, should assume
that each access represents three or four readers--right? Whatever,
considering the fact that my only expense for producing this e-zine
is what I already pay for Internet access (about $30 a month) that's
pretty cost effective.

By the way, if you're new to the Internet you may not have caught on
yet that, while you can read text files with any word processor, some
of them don't automatically adapt to the different types of carriage
returns used by PCs and MACs. If you are a Mac user like me, get
(it's free and wonderful) BBEdit Lite 3.0 (available at INFO-MAC or
AOL or any commercial online service). I don't know what PC users
prefer but I'm sure they have freeware text readers designed
primarily for ASCII files.

The articles below are in the same order as the table of contents
above.

-----------------------------------------

RONNIE CRAMER INTERVIEW

Even Denver Has An Auteur

Ronnie Cramer's Scorched Earth Policy

Ronnie Cramer was making music videos for his Denver, Colorado band
Alarming Trends and others when he realised how cheaply he could make
a feature film. He sought out investors and in 1989 released Back
Street Jane, a black-and-white neo-noir tale about a couple of tough
Janes who try to extort dope from an even meaner gal. "One Mean
Bitch!", 'VideoMania' magazine declared.

Ronnie's second feature earned him high praise from cult film critic
Joe Bob Briggs who called it "the best drive-in movie of 1992."
(Never mind that drive-in theatres are almost non-existent!) In Even
Hitler Had a Girlfriend the late Andren Scott plays Marcus Templeton,
an overweight security guard who has so much trouble getting dates
that he spends his life savings on hookers during a few weeks of
increasingly pathetic attempts to console his lonesome johnson.
Marcus has a mind-numbing and low-paying job with a schedule that
rules out any social life. (It's doubtful that this feckless guy
would have one in any case.) He spends his off-hours sitting in his
underwear in a bland apartment complex unit watching bad TV and
eating junk food. ("This is just a big pile of greasy salt!") He
plays solitaire "rock-em, sock-em" (the two-player boxing robot toy.)
A religious zealot leaves tracts under his door with such oddly
phrased slogans as "What the Holy Ghost said about TV sets--move them
out!" (My favorite scene.) His Dad suddenly appears on TV and berates
him in the middle of a masturbation session. (Although it's not clear
that Marcus can even masturbate effectively!) Most of the film's
humor derives from Marcus's whining narration. Much of this is
simultaneously hilarious and exasperating. "All these phones and no
one to call," he laments as he passes a bank of public phones. "I
will not yank on my dick again until I have a real woman--this I
vow!" is the closest he comes to any real self-discipline. "Even
Hitler..." is shot in a minimalist, grungy fashion. Sometimes the
stasis seems an apt correlative to Marcus's hopelessness and
sometimes it just seems boring. Also, while there are lots of topless
women--"Nose" magazine called it "The 'Ben-Hur' of Big-Titty
Movies"--there's no sexplay; perhaps Marcus is one of those
frustrated guys who would never watch an x-rated tape but rent every
Shannon Tweed film ever made! Chapel Hill's TRASH magazine
recommended "Even Hitler..." "for a taste of cruel humor served with
slow deliberation" and warned that some guys may want to avoid it as
it "might hit a little too close to home." (TRASH #9, Sept. 1993)
Cramer reports that some men have expressed disgust with both him and
his film's protagonist. I wonder if these guys were reacting out of
rank and file bourgeois liberalism (as in "Marcus brings on his own
problems by objectifying women") or from the more general fear of
acknowledging the cruel realities of sexual selection (as in "my
success doesn't really come at the expense of another--right?")
Marcus is too pathetic to be a poster child for the lovelorn and
lonely, of course. He's more of a Kaspar Hauser or Travis Bickle type
who missed a few classes, fell through the cracks and serves up a
cruel reminder of the dog-eat-dog rules by which we all live. Cramer
has also published a comic book version of the film.

Cramer recently completed a sequel (The Hitler Tapes) and he now
distributes his films through his video mail order company, Scorched
Earth Productions. (E-mail him at rcramer@ix.netcom.com or write him
at Scorched Earth Productions P.O. Box 101083 Denver, CO 80250 to
request a catalog.) JOYCE conducted this interview with Ronnie by
e-mail.

THE INTERVIEW

MARCUS SEEMS TO HAVE JUST SUDDENLY FALLEN INTO HIS PRESENT PATHETIC
CONDITION. HE REFERS TO HAVING HAD NO PROBLEM MEETING WOMEN BEFORE
(AS HE STARES AT THE THINNER FACE ON HIS DRIVER'S LICENSE.) YET,
THERE'S NO REFERENCE TO ANYTHING IN HIS PAST--A DIVORCE, DEPRESSION,
ETC.--THAT PRECIPITATED HIS FALL. HE ALSO (SAVE FOR ONE VAGUE
REFERENCE) HAS NO MALE FRIENDS, NO PALS TO COMMISERATE WITH. HE'S
MORE A CONCEIT THAN A CHARACTER.

It's been a while since I've seen the film (as you can imagine, I
don't enjoy looking at it too much), but as I recall there were a lot
of references to his weight problem being the cause of his
insecurities and other troubles - frankly, I'm surprised you missed
this. I remember that Andy wasn't all that fat, and I had to stuff
him at lunch and shoot him from below to make his stomach seem
appropriately huge.

As far as no pals, it seems there was a reference early on about his
schedule (sleeping when the rest of the world was awake and vice
versa) that precluded "normal" relationships.

WHILE MANY OF US SYMPATHIZE WITH PEOPLE LIKE MARCUS, HIS FECKLESS,
WHINING APPROACH TO HIS PROBLEMS KEEPS US FROM CARING TOO MUCH ABOUT
HIM. MUCH OF THE FILM'S HUMOR COMES FROM OUR EXASPERATION WITH
TEMPLETON'S UTTER LACK OF APPEAL ON ANY FRONT. HOW HAVE AUDIENCES
REACTED TO MARCUS? DO WOMEN REACT DIFFERENTLY THAN MEN?

Although most people dislike him and make fun of him, he's gotten the
full range of reactions (some women pity him and want to "mother"
him, some guys "relate" to his predicament, etc.) Some guys have even
expressed envy because Marcus gets so much!

A lot of guys write to me and mock Marcus, but I suspect that a lot
of them are "relating" to him more than they let on. I remember
talking to a guy in a store once (someone told him who I was and he
had seen the film), who got very angry and told me how much he hated
me and Marcus. This guy really worked himself into a lather and I
wondered if the whole idea had struck a bit too close to home.

I've watched the film with many women, and most of them were more
interested in "critiquing" the actresses than commenting on Marcus.
Maybe they think all men feel the way he did about women and it is
not a big deal to them!

For whatever reason, women seem much less exasperated by Marcus.

WHY DO YOU HAVE MARCUS TEMPLETON GETTING SHOT (IN THE TEMPLE, NO
LESS!) BY THE WOMAN AT THE END OF "EVEN HITLER..."?

It was in the script. The only thing I changed about the ending was
having him rub on the Reduce-O-Creme as he lay bleeding. In the
script he grabs his tape recorder and listens to the sound of the
gunshot over and over. My wife Sarah played that last call girl,
incidently.

There were some other things I changed with the script, but I can't
seem to recall many of them (I'm sure they were minor changes). I
remember coming up with the line about his current job being better
than his last one ("changing those aromatic urinal cakes").

MARCUS WATCHES A FILM ON TV (HE PLACES IT ON IT'S SIDE!) THAT APPEARS
TO BE YOUR PASTICHE OF "THE BRAIN THAT WOULDN'T DIE" WHICH PROMPTS
ONE OF THE FILM'S FUNNIEST LINES: "I CAN'T BELIEVE THIS BRAIN HAS A
GIRLFRIEND, AND I'M SITTING HERE BY MYSELF."

As I recall, it was Andy's idea to tilt the TV so as to get a better
view of the reclining woman on the screen.

YOU DISTRIBUTE CULT FILMS THROUGH YOUR COMPANY, SCORCHED EARTH
PRODUCTIONS. WHO ARE SOME OF THE CULT DIRECTORS THAT HAVE INFLUENCED
YOU? RUSS MEYER OBVIOUSLY COMES TO MIND (YOUR TOUGH WOMEN CHARACTERS)
AND MARCUS IS IN SOME WAYS THE MID-WESTERN BROTHER OF THE JACK NANCE
CHARACTER IN "ERASERHEAD."

I have to admit that I haven't seen all that many of the films
distributed by SEP and I'm not particularly into the bad film thing.

Regarding Russ Meyer, I saw "SuperVixens" and "Beneath the Valley of
the UltraVixens" years ago and liked them both. As I recall, Meyer
was at the screening of "...Valley..." (1979?).

My favorite director is Luis Bunuel ("The Criminal Life of Archibaldo
De La Cruz" and "Los Olvidados" being my top picks). I also like
Polanski's "Knife in the Water" a lot. The best low-budget guy I know
of is Edgar G. Ulmer, who made "Detour" and "Strange Illusion."

I CAN SEE HOW YOU'D FEEL AN AFFINITY TO BUNUEL'S SENSIBILITY AND
VISUAL STYLE--"BACK STREET JANE" CERTAINLY HAS SEQUENCES THAT REMIND
ME OF HIS MEXICAN PERIOD.

I admire his ability to remain objective while his camera records all
manner of madness, and I don't mean the surrealistic material for
which he's probably best known, I mean things like the cruelty of the
poor people in "Los Olvidados". Their lives are certainly tragic, but
Bunuel resists the temptation to make them pathetic stereotypes. In
Bunuel's vision, their world is like any other--filled with good
people and bad.

DID YOU GO TO FILM SCHOOL? I THINK STAN BRAKHAGE IS FROM COLORADO.
ARE YOU FAMILIAR WITH HIS WORK AND OTHER AMERICAN EXPERIMENTAL
FILMMAKERS? WHAT'S IT LIKE BEING AN INDIE FILMMAKER IN COLORADO?

Didn't go to film school. Yes, I believe Brakhage is from Boulder but
I've never seen any of his films (to my knowledge).

Since I've lived in the Denver for close to thirteen years, I know
quite a few people here and can get things done cheaply (by trading
services, etc.) I wouldn't mind living in New York, but I certainly
couldn't afford much of a house there. As far as L.A. goes, I've been
there a thousand times and I still hate it.

I sell films to people all over the world, so I guess it doesn't
matter where I'm located anyway...

I wonder if MTV and other such sources have taken the edge off of
experimental film. We used to make weird little films just to make
them, but it seems at some point people started saying, "that would
be a good rock video" and we started "using" our imagery.

Anyway. I'd like to make another experimental film sometime. I guess
it's been ten years or more since I have.

I DON'T THINK IT WOULD BE UNCHARITABLE TO SAY THAT THERE ARE SOME
STRETCHES, ESPECIALLY IN "BACK STREET JANE", WHERE THE NARRATIVE
MOVES AT A SNAIL'S PACE. IS THIS A CONSCIOUS STYLISTIC CHOICE OR JUST
ONE OF THE PITFALLS OF LOW-BUDGET FILMMAKING?

It was and is a conscious choice and definitely a reaction to having
made a million-fucking-rock-videos where there are 16 shots per
second (all cut to the beat of the music, of course).

It's definitely a drag not being able to make the film you want
because you lack resources, but that's life I guess. My favorite
films aren't exactly big-budget extravaganzas anyway. I see no-budget
films by guys who obviously want to do the action adventure thing (or
costume dramas, or whatever), and I really feel for them. I don't
think my films would look all that much different if I had millions
(better equipment and filmstock of course) but I'd sure pay people
better if I could. Anyway, despite the paltry amounts involved,
fundraising is still the hardest and most unpleasant part of
no-budget filmmaking.

With "BSJ," I was trying to capture the utter emptiness of the lives
of those people, and I resisted any temptations to make the film
"fun." My one concession to pop culture was making the characters
physically attractive - which was more a function of the performers
anyway. Sheila Traister tried to make herself as ugly as possible,
but she's still pretty much a babe in the film.

As far as "Hitler," well, it is after all the story of a guy who sits
around all day looking at TV.  Maybe I'll make a fast-paced low
budget film someday just to prove I can!

YOUR BAND, ALARMING TRENDS, PERFORMS ON THE SOUNDTRACK OF BOTH OF
YOUR FILMS. HAVE YOU DONE SOUNDTRACK WORK FOR OTHER INDIE FILMS? TELL
ME ABOUT YOUR MUSIC VIDEO WORK.

After cranking out a zillion music videos in the 1980s (don't ask the
names of the bands because I didn't know most of them even then), I
made a thirty minute short featuring music by A-Trends. The film cost
about $2,000, and I thought, "Hey, then a feature would only cost
$6,000!" and began pestering potential investors. End of music video
career.

Since we were always primarily a stage band (we've played everywhere
from SF's Mabuhay Gardens to NYC's CBGB and a million clubs in
between), the gang really enjoys going into the studio to work on
film music. Unfortunately, the only time we really had a music budget
was for BSJ, which was recorded at a nice 24-track studio. Most of
the other film scores we've worked on have been 8-track and less.

YOU SEEM TO HAVE A REPERTORY GROUP OF ACTRESSES. WHO ARE THESE WOMEN
AND HOW DID YOU CONVINCE THEM ALL TO APPEAR TOPLESS IN "EVEN
HITLER..."?

More of a problem is getting them to do or say things contrary to
their politics, philosophies, etc. Karen Pombo for example, has no
qualms about whipping off her shirt, but she's really a nice person
in real life and didn't like being so "mean" to the Marcus character.
It was much harder for her to act like a bitch than to get naked.

My friend Monica McFarland refuses to perform naked, because she
feels that people would take her acting less seriously if she did so.
Maybe she has a point.

I've noticed that most people who look good naked don't mind being
seen that way. (Cindy Radiff is a bodybuilder and their whole life is
showing off their bodies.)

At this point, I think they EXPECT to have to take their shirts off
when I call them for a film. Maybe I'll do a "regular" film sometime
so people will pay attention to their acting.

PRODUCING A COMIC BOOK BASED ON "EVEN HITLER..." IS A GREAT IDEA.
I'VE OFTEN THOUGHT THAT IT WOULD BE FORTUITOUS FOR COMIC BOOK
ILLUSTRATORS, SCREENWRITERS AND INDIE FILMMAKERS TO WORK TOGETHER AND
PRODUCE COMIC BOOK VERSIONS OF FILMS THEY'D LIKE TO DO. IT WOULD BE A
GREAT FUND-RAISING TOOL AND YOU COULD CREATE A CORE AUDIENCE FOR YOUR
FILM BEFORE IT'S EVEN PRODUCED. YOU ILLUSTRATED THE "EVEN HITLER..."
COMIC BOOK. WHY NOT JUST PUT YOUR NEXT FILM OUT IN COMIC BOOK FORM
FIRST?

I agree! I really like this idea and I've thought a lot about doing
it. I'd like to be able to do comic book versions of my scripts and
others, but so much artwork is really time-consuming and I'd have to
ask for adequate compensation.

Unfortunately, the arty fucks with screenplays (myself included) just
don't seem to have any money or I guess they'd go ahead and make
their film instead of "compromising" and having a comic book made.

DO YOU DISTRIBUTE YOUR WORK SOLELY THROUGH YOUR OWN COMPANY? WHAT
KIND OF SUCCESS HAVE YOU HAD TAKING THAT ROUTE? WILL WE SEE ANY NEW
CRAMER FILMS SOON?

"Even Hitler..." and BSJ are both handled by various distributors,
though I always retain the right to sell copies myself. Both methods
have their good and bad points. Distributors reach markets you might
not otherwise reach, but they rip you off mercilessly.
Self-distribution is a lot of work, but you can account for every
cent.

Last year I made "The Hitler Tapes" (a sequel) for the same people
who produced "Even Hitler..." and it got a "sort-of-almost-kind-of"
release (it's a long story), but I don't know when I'll get around to
doing another picture.

To be perfectly honest, this past year has been pretty tough. Andy
Scott, who played Marcus in the Hitler movies, was murdered last
March, and I can't imagine ever really "getting over" it. We had been
best friends for nearly thirty years, and much of my life ended when
his did.

-----------------------------------------

JACK 'N' JILL SONG 
by Testy Louise

My lover lives in a tree 
And he won't come down 
Even for me

He says "You can smile 
And you can frown; 
I love you still, 
But I'm not coming down"

I loved you 
And you loved me to death 
I said your name 
With my last, dying breath

I used to wonder 
If you would stay 
But I lost my doubt 
When I passed away

I fell ill 
When we first met 
Then I knew 
You were my pet

I got sicker 
As the days progressed 
Then I dropped dead 
When I saw you undressed

My inheritance 
Only made him yawn 
We buried the fortune 
In our front lawn
 
I lost the map 
And now the money's gone 
But I think about it
When I mow the lawn

My lover lives in a tree 
And he won't come down 
Not even for me

He says "You can smile 
And you can frown; 
I love you still, 
But I'm not coming down"

-----------------------------------------

SOUTHERN CULTURE ON THE SKIDS

The poor white trash rockers from Chapel Hill have a new CD on the
Geffen label out soon. JOYCE caught up with them in Kansas City.

I asked (Mishki Sanfords drummer) Roy Gittens to interview our old
friends and favorite Chapel Hill band Southern Culture on the Skids
on the eve of their recent tour. (The peripatetic hillbillies were on
the road 213 days last year!) Gittens sometimes serves as
percussionist (i.e., he slaps a spoon on his knee) at SCOTS shows.
Well, electrician Roy was called back to LA to work on some film
(another Coreys Haim and Feldman epic, no doubt) and left me several
dog-eared, doodled-on pages of well-nigh illegible notes alluding to
private jokes the punch lines of which I hope I never hear. Still,
his lager-informed scrawl contributed to this introduction.
Fortunately, our own Mr. Thrifty (John Marston) caught up with SCOTS
when they played in Kansas City (June 15, Grand Emporium) where he
was working in the editing room of the new Robert Altman film. (Read
all about that in his column in this issue.) Thrifty videotaped his
conversation with the group and has provided JOYCE with a transcript
of his woolly session.

Southern Culture on the Skids began over ten years ago in Chapel
Hill, NC. It took several years and many changes of personnel before
the group attracted a loyal and large following. Now they fill clubs
across the country with a heterogenous bunch who go crazy for their
expert mix of rockabilly, surf and trash-rock elements. The
threesome's impressive musicianship and good-natured presence is
somewhat at odds with the party line on what the "Chapel Hill sound"
is and they have sometimes been at odds with the local style
counselors who may be suspicious of their considerable crossover
potential. (I have a fond memory of guitarist Rick Miller sulking and
wincing in the back of the Cats Cradle during a Superchunk show that
bassist Mary Huff dragged him to see.) But chalk their promise up to
serious playing, great songwriting and a helpful heapin' of
deep-fried charisma. Alternative music fans easily recognise Southern
Culture's kinship to the likes of The Cramps, Alex Chilton and Link
Wray. After releasing a CD on the (defunct) Moist label and two for
Safehouse, they're now with Geffen and their first DGC release, Dirt
Track Date, is slated for an August 15 arrival.

Rick Miller grew up in California and came to Chapel Hill in the
early '80s to get an MFA in studio art. (He still paints.) Rick's the
only original member of the band which had a considerably rougher
sound in those early days. Mary grew up in Roanoke, Virginia where
she played in a punk band (The Trademarks) with friend Dave Hartman
in high school. After seeing SCOTS play in her town in 1987 she
hitchhiked to Chapel Hill to audition for this group whose influences
gibed so well with hers (in particular, the Cramps). When the drummer
position opened up later, Dave came aboard and it's been the three of
them ever since.

THE INTERVIEW

RICK  Dave's not here, Mary's doin' her hair. Dave went to get his
pants; maybe we can watch Dave put his pants on in a little bit. I
see it all the time, but I'm sure a lot of you out there haven't seen
it at all.

THRIFTY  So where've you guys been on tour the last month or so?

RICK   The last month, OK - we've been through three vans the last
month. Our blue van blew up in eastern Washington state in a town
with 500 people - nobody around - and they wanted like 5 or 6 days to
fix it and two grand so we traded the van straight across for an old
Pacific Bell van, a '76 Chevy...

THRIFTY Excellent!

RICK  ...and we all had to lay on the equipment while we drove it and
stuff, it had no AC and it was like 100 degrees in Redding...that was
rough. But when we got to California we traded it in and bought a new
one, well, not a NEW one, but new to US.

THRIFTY  What town was that in Washington?

RICK  Ritzville!

THRIFTY  Ritzville?

RICK  Ritzville, the home of the wheat growers hall of fame!

THRIFTY  I'm from Seattle - I just came down here to work on the Bob
Altman film.

RICK  Oh, yeah? We liked Seattle - we played Bellingham, Vancouver,
Bozeman, Montana, Missoula, Eugene...

THRIFTY  What'd you think of Missoula? Did you get a chance to go
into the groovin' Rockin' Rudy's record store up there?

RICK  No, we didn't have time - man, the drive is so damn LONG, once
you pass the Mississippi right on from the east coast, where man, you
know, you drive four hours and that's a long drive.

THRIFTY  You'd better keep lots of extra gas, too.

RICK  That's right, it costs a lot in gas.

(Mary walks in)

THRIFTY  AHHH!! (seeing Mary's new hair)

MARY  You're smoking CLOVES, man!

THRIFTY  Sorry!

RICK  Here's Dave, we gotta watch Dave change his pants.

THRIFTY  Here, I'll get the upwards vertical view.

DAVE  Don't get too close, it'll hurt ya!

RICK  It'll get somethin' on that lens and it won't cum off!

DAVE  (taking off his shorts) Here, I've got my underwear on
backwards (mooning the camera through the crotch slot) Rick  Nice,
huh?

DAVE  ...you've gotta floop it around if you don't wash it after a
while.

RICK  (laughing)

DAVE  ...you get double duty that way

THRIFTY  Mary, what's on the agenda?

MARY  Ahhm, hair's done, makeup's done...ready to go.

DAVE  Can you tell mary got a haircut today?

THRIFTY  Hmmmm....(going in for closeup)  let's look at the scalp..

MARY  Oh, does it look a different color than the rest of my hair?

RICK  Her scalp is not green, but RED.

MARY  I was a virgin redhead until today, and this Wichita girl
talked me into having my hair highlighted with BONFIRE!  So I can no
longer say I'm actually a natural redhead.

THRIFTY  Have you guys ever played with the Saddlemen before?
(playing in background)

MARY  Oh, yeah (putting on hoop earrings) I think every time we've
ever been here - they're great

THRIFTY  How many times have you played KC?

DAVE  A bunch...we met our driver by playin' here - Tim Kearns.

THRIFTY  So do you guys have a new album comin' out?

DAVE  Ask him! (points to Rick)

RICK  Uh, I just farted.

THRIFTY  (pointing camera down to the grungy floor)

RICK   No, nothing there...not TOO bad (laughs); just smells like the
inside of our van. No, our new record's comin' out in August--it's
called (talks right up to the lens) DIRT TRACK DATE.

THRIFTY  (laughing)

RICK  And it's gonna be on DGC.

THRIFTY  Cool.

RICK  And it's all about dirt track....well, it's not all about dirt
track racing - but there's a lot of parallels between dirt track
racing and rock 'n' roll.  I was just writing that today...

THRIFTY  Did you ever talk with Roy Lee Gittens about his drag racing
experiences in southern California?

MARY  (laughing)

RICK  You mean drag racing like he gets dressed up like a girl and
like chases people down the street?

THRIFTY  (laughing)

RICK  Or you mean the ones where he goes to see CARS?

THRIFTY  I think it's the car-type...

RICK  OH, oh, oh...well, he's into the drags, see. I'm into anything
that goes around in circles 'cause that's kinda like, y'know--dirt
tracks is the most exciting, 'cause there's more action on a 3/8 mile
oval of dirt than ANY international paved speedway. There's a lot of
them in North Carolina, too.

THRIFTY  I was down at the Lava Lounge in Hollywood--that's the last
time I saw Roy.

RICK  The Lava Lounge? Where's that?

THRIFTY  Sunset and LaBrea.

RICK   Oh...we just went to the Tiki Tea. You ever been to the Tiki
Tea?

THRIFTY  No, where's that?

RICK  It's down on Sunset...it's like a...it's the Polynesian room.
It's like drinkin' in your bedroom with like 30 other people.

DAVE  We got to go to the Rainbow, too.

RICK  Yeah, HUGE dust bunnies there.

DAVE  The Rainbow is the old hangout for the old guard rock stars
like Led Zeppelin and The Who, and we got to see a girl with a short
minidress and no panties on, so it's like...

THRIFTY  Can't beat that.

MARY  (warming up)

DAVE  No, you can't.

RICK  Well, hey - last night we almost beat it...

DAVE  Yeah, we DID!

RICK  Last night we had a girl get onstage and was, uh, MASTURBATIN'
with a piece of CHICKEN!

THRIFTY  Really?

RICK  Yeah, she wouldn't take her underwear off, though she'd stick
it UNDER her underwear, RUB it around, then PULL it out and LICK it.

THRIFTY  WOW! Wichita!

RICK  Wichita, man, I'm TELLIN' ya.

DAVE  We've had people simulate doing that, but last night I think,
she honest to God, WAS, and like ENJOYING it!

RICK  And I had a dream. I had a dream of Tattooed Titties.

THRIFTY  What type of tattoes?

RICK  BIG tattoes! (pulling down his overalls to show us his breast)
All around the AROLIE area (circling his nipple)

MARY  Huh, "Ar-O-lie"....(laughing)

RICK  This part right here...(laughs)

DAVE  Sounds like a new Chef Boy-ar-dee product!

RICK  Anyway, it was in Phoenix.....and I had this dream on the WAY
to Phoenix, then we got to Phoenix, we started playin'  and this girl
got onstage and took her bra off and she had these tattoes all around
her, uh, her NIPPLES, and it was exactly like my dream, but it wasn't
like a sex dream or anything - it was more like a dream where I asked
her if it HURT a lot, to have that done...but anyway, when that
happened I freaked out and I forgot where I was in the song and
fucked up and....

THRIFTY  Sort of like an impromptu art gallery of sorts...

RICK  Uhh, CERTAIN art galleries...sort of like art MAGAZINES
(laughs) y'know what I mean--art, uh, art MOVIES

MARY  OOOH, YEAH (singing)  

RICK  Mary's warmin' up

MARY  Gotta warm up...

RICK  She's the Boogy Machine. Boogy MACHINE.

THRIFTY  Tell us about Blacksburg days.

MARY Oh, Blacksburg days were great for me.

RICK  Tell them how underage you were goin' to all those places.

MARY Yeah, I was 15 - drinkin' beer and doin'...

RICK  Doin' WHAT?

MARY  Doin' all sorts of crazy things...

THRIFTY  I remember the first band I ever saw in Blacksburg was at
the Zeta Psi house in October of 1981. It was Not Shakespeare, and
they were playing "Working on My Tan", one of my favorites.

MARY  Y'know, I really love those guys...and I think they wrote a lot
of really great songs. I'm sad to say that they broke up.

RICK  Like what songs?

MARY  Like "Susan"...

RICK (to camera)  I'm tryin' to catch her on that one...

DAVE  Sing it, Mary! You know her..."this is my house, and this is my
car, and this is my desk, and this is my mom..." and then there was
the, uh, "when I was a man I spoke...."--no--"when I was a child I
spoke like..."

MARY  (singing) "When I spoke like a child, and everybody helps to
understand, but now I'm a man..."

DAVE  "...and nobody understands the words that come out of my
mouth..."

MARY  And "Kill the Smurfs"...

DAVE  Oh, that's right! That was from Adam's days...

MARY  Yeah...I liked it when Rick Campbell was in the band...

RICK   Rick gave the band it's "edge."

MARY  No, Rick played keyboards.

RICK   Oh. (laughing)

DAVE  Rick gave the band its, uh, Wall of Voodoo covers - 'cause they
did that song, uh, "Don't Like Girls Who Live in This City."

THRIFTY  Dave, what's next? Where are you going after this?

DAVE  Columbia.  After Columbia we go to St. Louis, then after St.
Louis we go back to Chapel Hill for three days, then we play
Greensboro, NC and Boone, NC, and then we're going to go play a rock
festival in upstate New York.

THRIFTY  Are you playing Cat's Cradle in Chapel Hill?

DAVE  In July. Yup, but we also play a great new bar called the Local
506--it's a little dive; it only holds 150 people.

THRIFTY  What about Winston-Salem? Aren't you going to hit Herbert
Gambill's home town?

DAVE  He lives there now? I didn't know he lives there--we play at
Ziggy's in Winston. It's a roots/rock/reggae club--in other words
they have lots of Grateful Dead bands.

THRIFTY  Now, in Boone you're going to play for the Appalachian State
crowd...

DAVE  No, did I say Boone? I meant Hickory. But there's no college
there. We play a blues bar there, too. Three sets, 10:30... 'Cause he
says you can't get more than $3 out of people if you don't play for
at least four hours. So that's how that works... (takes his hat off)
Rick  Put your head down so it'll look like yer butt.

DAVE  (shows his scalp) Now this isn't going to impress Jennifer
Jason Leigh. I'm going to color it tomorrow, Jennifer, if you'd like
to come and watch. You're invited. So does she go by Jennifer or
Jenny?

THRIFTY  Jennifer, I think--I don't know the gal too well, myself.
I've said "Hi" a coupla times.

DAVE  I know her intimately. She has talked dirty to me.

THRIFTY  (laughing)

DAVE  She was good in "Last Exit to Brooklyn", I'll tell ya that.

THRIFTY  She's been in a LOT of movies, ever since the early 80s.

DAVE  I've only seen "Last Exit to Brooklyn" and the last Robert
Altman movie, what was it called...

THRIFTY  "Pret-a-Porter" aka "Ready to Wear."

DAVE  Nah, the one before that.

THRIFTY  "Short Cuts"

DAVE  "Short Cuts", yeah. And what else has she been in? I didn't see
the Dorothy Parker one...

THRIFTY  Oh, you GOTTA see that - Bob Altman produced that, and we
have a print of it sitting in the projection booth right now - we
oughta go down for a little midnight viewing...but that'd be breakin'
the rules.

DAVE  Hey, it's almost time to go play...are you gonna film us
playing?

THRIFTY  Absolutely.

DAVE  All right!

(Mary's doing a little sprayin' and teasin'.)

THRIFTY  Rick, do you have enough chicken for tonight?

RICK   (opens the KFC box and sticks a leg in the lens)

THRIFTY  MMMMM!

RICK  MMMMM!

-----------------------------------------

JOYCE LOVES CONAN

My love for "Late Night with Conan O'Brien" did not begin on first
sight. I liked the show initially but had lots of little problems
with it. One of them was corrected when they added windows behind his
desk. (Yes, I need that trompe l'oeil!) Conan got much better at
interviewing guests. (I much prefer his humble style to Letterman's
arch demeanor and morning DJ ethos, though I'm still a big Letterman
fan.) After over 400 shows much of his nervousness has been overcome
but he still hasn't learned that it's more effective to just stare
confidently at the audience when you're thinking of your next line
than to lapse into a chorus of "We've got a fantastic show tonight!"
(My occasional impatience with him is of the constructive variety, as
in "You're so talented, why can't you just conquer these little
things?") And then there is his sidekick Andy Richter. I'm still
struggling to like Andy's presence on the show even though I'm sure
he's a major creative force and I always find his taped reports
hilarious. His sour foil schtick doesn't always work for me, but he
has a devoted following.

So, why do I now think it's the most exciting show on television?
Conan is immensely likable and refreshing. When paired with the right
guest his interviews are a joy to behold. The Max Weinberg 7 are a
great house band and Max is a capable comedy performer himself. The
show's set is gorgeous and the general look of the show (that
priceless animated opening!) is as magical as the astronomical icons
they've lifted from the famous 16th century woodcut. And I've begun
to genuinely like Andy.

Most importantly, the show has great writing. Some of my favorite
recurring bits: classic films dubbed by children; continuity errors
(manufactured, of course, and often quite surreal); DIZZ, who just
spins around; episodes available on cassette, read by ABE VIGODA or
Eli Wallach; a SYCOPHANTIC TURKEY in the audience, usually appearing
around Thanksgiving; the very pessimistic young boy, BILLY TYLER;
"KRUNK," the obscene word invented by the show; WO LEE PI, the Lenny
Bruce of China, who delivers his monologue in Chinese and then
(through a translator) makes a savage mockery of Conan's naive
American values; POLLY, the NBC Peacock, a handpuppet who tells you
why shows on competing networks are worthless ("It's in Spanish!");
the streaker (a man in a rather ineffectual nude body suit); TOMORRY
THE OSTRICH, who lays an egg containing the list of upcoming guests
(recently replaced by the Heroic Scotsmen); STARING CONTESTS between
Andy and Conan, cruelly rigged in Conan's favor; and the most
frequently recurring bit, called "CARGO CLUTCH" by the show (in honor
of a cartoon it is derived from), in which Conan gets exclusive
interviews with people in the news by showing a still of them on a
monitor while a staff writer's lips are chroma-keyed over the
celebrity's mouth. ("Bow down to me!" Bob Dole exclaims whenever he
makes such appearances.) One of the best new bits features a DAVID
COPPERFIELD LOOKALIKE framing such non-magical acts as walking
through a self-opening grocery store door with the famous
illusionist's cheesy theatrics. On the recent episode (6/23/95)
filmed aboard the Circle Line Tour Boat this wonderful imposter made
the Statue of Liberty disappear! O'Brien and company are putting out
the kind of classic television memorialized on the walls above
Conan's desk.

The show has been extended until early 1996, Conan's ratings are the
best in his time slot, and he keeps getting better. Conan fans will
want to check out the alt.fan.conan-obrien newsgroup for discussion
of the show and the latest Conan gossip. The newsgroup's FAQ is very
good and contains a long list of recurring bits. Cynthia Gill
publishes KRUNK!, an essential fanzine that has featured interviews
with Conan staff writers as well as the expected testimonials, gossip
and trivia. Five issues have been published to date. Contact
conanfan@aol.com for subscription info. And check out my Conan
Moment of the Week page every seven days for a full-color frame
capture of a great moment during the previous week's episodes.
[It's at http://www.rbdc.com/~hgambill/conanpic.htm]

In early June 1995 I began posting summaries of each episode of "Late
Night with Conan O'Brien" to the alt.fan.conan-obrien newsgroup. I
posted them myself every night for two weeks beginning with the June
5 episode and called them abstracts. Now a squad of volunteers have
taken on the abstract duties, one per night of the week. The
abstracts are posted on the newsgroup and archived on my webpage and
others. I have limited disk space so I'd love to hear from anyone or
any institution willing to give our abstracts the home they deserve.

We're starting this project some 400 episodes into the show's
history, so some of us are also putting together a list of guests who
appeared on the first 400 shows. Then we'll let Conan fans verify and
annotate the list based on memory, notes and tapes they may have.


ABSTRACT WRITERS LINEUP


MONDAYS: Herbert Gambill (hgambill@rbdc.rbdc.com)

TUESDAYS: Joseph Nebus (nebus@physics.rutgers.edu)

"I was born 101 years to the day after Windsor McKay, creator of the
comic strip. I have been a fan of Conan O'Brien since he first
appeared on Late Night. My early influences include alarm clocks,
breakfast, and the morning paper; my later influences include
midnight snacks."

WEDNESDAYS: Michael N. Rusignuolo (damone@ios.com)

"NAME: Damone REAL NAME: I said Damone, Ok? BORN: Yes. REASON I GOT
INTO CONAN: Better than infomercials. REASON I WRITE CAPSULES: Kills
time."

THURSDAYS: Laura Bivins (bivi@nerdy.cpe.uchicago.edu)

"I'm 23 and soon to be a graduate student at Penn State University in
Economics. I started watching Conan faithfully last January when I
was suffering from bouts of insomnia and now I watch because I'm
adicted. Ah, sweet Conan..."

FRIDAYS: Margaret Chen (mqc9132@is2.NYU.EDU)

"I'm a native New Yorker who'll probably live out her days here. I'll
soon  be a grad student at NYU, and am currently business director at
WNYU 89.1 FM."


If anyone else is interested in a particular weeknight, contact the
relevant person above and arrange to alternate weeks.

-----------------------------------------

MY WORTHLESS COMPETITORS...

Here are e-zine reviews I have contributed so far to the new e-zine
review archive set up by Blaise Faint of Chapel Hill, NC.
[http://sunsite.unc.edu/faint/eziner/index.html] He's set up a
well-organized service, one that e-zine readers and publishers will
find essential. A challenge: if every e-zine reader and editor will
submit only one review to his page it will become a sorely-needed
resource and will increase readership of e-zines in general. Zines
and e-zines have been getting a lot of press attention in the past
year and the editor of one of the most famous zines made a recent
(June 27) appearance on "David Letterman." Dishwasher Pete's goal is
to work as a dishwasher in all 50 states and he writes about it in
his zine "Dishwasher." (Pete, P.O. Box 4827, Arcata, CA 95521-1827)
Pete told Dave why he doesn't eat in restaurants anymore (the
kitchens are infested with rats) and demonstrated his ability to set
his left hand on fire briefly as it is deadened from surgery owing to
a job-related mishap. Unfortunately, Dave didn't bring up the subject
of his zine, probably choosing not to digress since it was a very
short interview. Which is too bad--Pete's subscriptions may have
soared. A great piece of publicity in any case, though.

Chip Rowe, editor of CHIP'S CLOSET CLEANER, has published an article
about e-zines in the current issue of Factsheet Five (#56) which
gives special coverage to e-zines. (There is also an article by Jeff
Koyen, editor of "Crank", reviewed below.) I responded to a survey
Chip conducted in preparation for the article and if you're
interested in starting an e-zine you might like to read the full text
of my response. [Not included here. It's at
http://www.rbdc.com/~hgambill/rowe.htm] JOYCE is mentioned in Chip's
article and he's also set up a very nice webpage of e-zine resources
at "http://virtumall.com/homepages/chip/zines.html?" (NOTE: the
question mark is apparently part of the URL.)


CRANK [http://www.meer.net/~johnl/e-zine-list/zines/crank.html]

"I sincerely believe that people are, on the whole, useless," writes
Jeff Koyen, editor of CRANK. Koyen's misanthropy is complete and
genuine enough that I can overlook CRANK's mean-spirited passages.
(One diatribe on the pious aspects of the liberal embrace of the AIDS
issue ventures into a kind of mischievous overkill that can too
easily be misinterpreted or co-opted by true hate groups who won't
get or care about Jeff's satirical bent. Of course, I doubt those
types spend much time reading zines.) It's easy to picture Koyen:
intelligent guy with a dead-end job and a big punk-inspired chip on
his shoulder. Jeff is mad about the conformity of his generation,
about that ex-girlfriend who ran off with his rent deposit, about
people who whine about being losers. What makes CRANK better than
most cranky guy zines is that Koyen writes well and seems more
sincere than you would expect. CRANK lays out an angry, despairing
sensibility that many will connect to either in whole or in part; and
it gets funnier and better with each issue.

Koyen put out four issues of CRANK last year while living in
Philadelphia. They're available in ASCII but Mac users will want to
get the DOCmaker version which makes good use of clip art (as well as
some original) graphics. There's also a print version which has been
given high praise in FACTSHEET FIVE. Jeff recently moved to NYC where
I doubt his diehard punk angst will be tempered in any way.

I wish CRANK would include less of the (often predictable)
testimonies to the angry male (urban punk variety) ethos and more of
Jeff's always interesting reviews. Koyen's notes on his favorite
records are remarkable for their insight into the novelty and appeal
of thrift shop collectibles such as Herb Alpert's "Whipped Cream &
Other Delights":

"...every home should have a copy. And every home could, I think,
judging from the number of copies that I've seen at thrift store &
rummage sales. So now, every time I see a copy for 50 cents or less,
I buy it... In the last 4 years, I've probably been through 30 or 35
copies. But they get used. With duct tape & a razor blade, the
jackets are perfect shipping boxes. The vinyl is fun to throw across
the room when you're drunk & bored. I've given a dozen copies out as
gifts. I go through a lot, but there's always more." (CRANK #1)

The targets of Koyen's venom may be easy to predict (Sassy Magazine,
suburbs, the middle class, the latest bourgeois liberal cause
c&eacute;lebr&eacute;) but his take on the nature of their vileness
is often quite original. In one article ("Corpse Watch 2000") he
nominates celebrities who need to stop boring us and just shuffle
off:

"Longtime figurehead for a dope smoking, blotter sucking,
dance-in-the-aisles sold-out hippie culture, Jerry [Garcia] is now
paying for the finest doctors & prescription drugs with the cash you
spent on a stadium seat in '72, or '79, or '84, or '92. Don't tell me
how incomparably communal you felt after that mesc; I dropped a tab,
watched the "Mary Tyler Moore Show" and felt the same way. All for
the cost of a cheap tab, not marked up by some 40 year old hippie
fuck in a Saab."

One of CRANK's specialties is unusually detailed essays on such
non-PC activities as "The Lost Art of the Drunk Drive," "Stalking:
Tips for Beginners" ("Top National Choices: 1. Chick from Superchunk.
Oh boy.") and a very long piece on self-trepanation (drilling a hole
in your head!) that includes a reply to an inquiry he sent to the
Black & Decker company on that very topic.

CRANK's visuals (in the DOCmaker version) are elegant and funny. His
off-the-cuff detournement of some NEW YORKER-style cartoons in #4 is
hilarious.

With each issue, the more tiresome elements of Koyen's angst are
replaced with increasingly inventive humor.


PETE & BERNIE'S PHILOSOPHICAL STEAKHOUSE
[http://www.demon.co.uk/maverick/pab/pab.html]

Pete & Bernie's (or PAB) is the funniest e-zine I've come across so
far. This UK-based publication, edited by Darren Lawrence, is, like
many humor e-mags, irreverent, ribald and sometimes half-baked or
merely scatalogical. What makes PAB superior is the quality of the
writing, its inventiveness, and the self-deprecation that keeps the
zine's nastiness (as well as the usual share of misogyny you find in
guy-authored/targeted zines) from becoming truly mean-spirited.

A charter appeared in the first issue:

"P+B promise to abide by the following codes of E-zine...Spouting
bullshit and then realising the folly of our outpourings...Constant
references to spice, salt, condiments in general...Mucho Mondo
Hilarity... Questioning the world around us, and then not wanting to
really know...Intense shenanigans...The promise that once subscribed
you cannot for love n'money get out again, a bit like
Scientology...The love of all Gods, however unlikely their real
existence may be. We love religion, we think it's tops!..Paranoia...
Frivolity..."

PAB is one of the few children of Monty Python that seem worthy of
that parentage, although it's unclear if PAB would appreciate the
comparison. Like Python, PAB is not satisfied with just being funny.
There's a fair amount of surreality on hand, as in this supposed
extract from a report about today's teens:

"The rules of 'Soggy Biscuit' are simply, yet unbelievably evil. 4
players, all male, kneel in a circle, each has a biscuit in one hand
and his erect, proud, member in the other. As the game begins there
is a frenzy of what can only be described as wanking. There are no
winners in the game of 'soggy biscuit' only a loser, one man who has
to devour all 3 other players' spunk-dripping biscuits. Sick,
depraved, disgusting, all words which no doubt enter the minds of
every parent in the land, but it is a staple part of every teenage
party, a sick reminder of the way things have become in the 90s."

PAB often includes references to UK personalities and slang that some
of us won't get (and in one issue PAB even included a small glossary)
but most of the humor is non-regional and at the expense of
international figures like those featured in the "Guide to percentage
of water in stars": "Janet Jackson: 45 percent water, 55 percent
carpet."

One recurring feature involves imaginary celebrity interviews, much
like the ones Conan O'Brien does, but much randier, of course. Here
"Pete & Bernie" interviews rapper Ice Cube:

"P+B: You like the police?

MR.CUBE:  No I fuckin don't.

P+B: But you just said they were not shit.

MR. ICE:  They AIN'T shit.

P+B: Same thing.

MR. ICE:  No it isn't!

P+B: Yes it bloody is, Ain't and are not is the same.

MR. ICE:  Oh fuck off, I'm in a really tetchy mood now, I'm going to
call me agent, this interview's over."

Editors Lawrence and Pee Wee seem to be the UK equivalents of
American slackers: educated but non-conformist, maybe a little bitter
about the success of their dullard contemporaries, but glad they
chose the route that permits them the freedom of laughing themselves
into a coma.

Ben Ohmart regularly contributes his intense, imaginative short
fiction to PAB. He has also contributed to my own e-zine, Joyce
Wankable.

PAB includes a fair amount of the misogny you find in
hetero-guy-centered magazines but it seems to originate less from
frat/jock arrogance than from an honest appreciation of the unfair
aspects of sexual competition and gender relations.

Translation: these guys are a bunch of losers. Actually, I suspect
they do okay for themselves and when word gets around, they will be
subjected to the very idolatry they mock. PAB is distributed in ASCII
form only. Recently a PAB web page was added where you can go to
download a photo of Darren and co-editor Pee Wee and get back (and
special) issues. I hope these guys set up an illustrated HTML version
soon.


COCKTAIL  [http://www.meer.net/~johnl/e-zine-list/zines/cocktail.html]

COCKTAIL is only two issues old and is only available in the
Macintosh DOCmaker format. I'm biased towards Mac people, too, but
they really ought to put out an ASCII version. There are plenty of
non-Mac people who would enjoy COCKTAIL's unashamedly fluffy,
euro-trash celebration of the important things in life: fashion,
coffee, lounge music and witty banter.

"We hope that you will have a pleasant time and enjoy yourself fully
with COCKTAIL. That's what COCKTAIL is about, you see. We come in,
jazzing lightly to a laid-back bossa nova, let on a warm smile, and
tell you a story or two. And when we're done, we slip out through the
window, leaving you safely tucked in a perfectly cool pillow. Not too
warm, not too cold. Just perfect. And after we're gone it's like
nothing ever happened. (COCKTAIL #1)"

Topics discussed so far in this debonair e-zine include the music of
Burt Bacharach and the Walker Brothers, coffee (Brazil Santos is the
bean of choice), pyjama protocol, the importance of reading only
fashion magazines in caf&eacute;s and a plea for the revival of
phrases such as "enchanting!" The second issue includes a test which
you can respond to by e-mail and receive COCKTAIL's interpretation of
your personality.

This latest issue includes some very nice (and uncredited) fashion
photos. There are also far too many spelling errors and a few
formatting mistakes (illustrations covering up article heads, etc.)
It's hard to tell if COCKTAIL is the work of some genuine cocktail
party veterans or just one daydreaming fan of the fashion world. (The
e-mail address indicates that COCKTAIL originates from Sweden but the
editor is apparently British.) Whichever, COCKTAIL more than fulfills
its cavalier charter: it is elegant, gleeful and solidly hedonistic.
Cond&eacute; Nast has nothing to worry about yet, but I hope COCKTAIL
improves, adds some real fashion/style journalism and photographs
taken especially for the e-zine. That would be a highly addictive
beverage.

-----------------------------------------

WITHOUT A SMILE 
by Ramone de Sika

You can wear a Gucci dress 
And top it with a Firoccie necklace
Italian boots and lace 
But you won't be fully dressed 
Without a smile on your face

A grimy look on your face 
A fast Ferrari at tour pace 
A siamese cat and designer mace 
A black limo leaving no trace 
Means nothing 
With no smile on your face

You can be jet set flying high 
Roaming around all over the sky 
Taking the Concorde to Vienna for a weekend 
You may become big bird in the sky 
Yet it means nothing 
Without a smile on your face

Wear a nice smile on your face 
Have some love and some grace 
Then you will have almost anything 
With that smile on your face

So come on now 
Take that grin off your face 
And put a smile in its place

-----------------------------------------

THE SIXTIES 

1960 A big year for playing in the dirt. Mud pies were
all the rage. I was three years old and teething on topsoil.

1961 One word--tele-frigging-vision. Three channels of eye-washables
and treble-heavy banter. Everyone was sitting close to the set
because they were little.

1962 Five years under my belt and aching for whatever Father Time
could dish up. Lincoln logs or erector set--that was the question
keeping everyone up at night.

1963 It was a big year for slamming screen doors. Everyone would run
in and out of the house and drive their mother crazy.

1964 The British invasion: The Chilcoates moved in next door and kept
us in stitches with their biscuit and tea ceremony. (Mr. and Mrs.
Chilcoate were from Manchester, UK and came here to work at Dad's
plant.) A big year for music: new records by Mitch Miller and Burl
Ives.

1965 Two words: Old Maid. Everyone was playing it.

1966 Swimming was the big fad. Who didn't go to the pool? You would
swim and buy hot dogs and french fries and go home without showering.
I was "the saltine cracker".

1967 A man, a plan, a canal: was anyone not digging shallow trenches
in their backyard and filling them with water?

1968 The whole world was learning to read. A big year for music: new
records by Lefty Frizzel and Ed Ames.

1969 Two words: Tonka trucks. Earth movers and rock breakers. Who
could resist their awesome charm?

Of course, this is just what the sixties meant to me. I met a fellow
who spent the whole decade in an iron lung and you know he would
probably characterise it somewhat differently.

-----------------------------------------
Pathetic Lust Department

MAD FOR MADISON
[on the webpage, this account is accompanied by Davey's polaroid of him
spanking Madison]

By Davey Veedub

My buddy Harry and I were on a serious Madison kick for about a month
or so.  One Saturday night we were in the recording studio laying
down some guitar tracks.  I was a little bored and picked up a copy
of the San Francisco Chronicle.  I turned to the Datebook
Section...and--lo and behold--I saw that Madison was dancing the last
night of a week-long stand at the New Century Theatre. We turned
everything off and made the 70-mile trip to SF in record time.

After she did her little dance bit--complete with whips and a HUGE
dildo--the M.C. announced that for twenty bucks you could go
backstage, meet Madison one-on-one, and have two Polaroids taken with
her.  Me and old Harry were tapped after paying the eighteen bucks to
get into the joint.  Well..we literally ran six of the most
treacherous city blocks in San Francisco to the ATM..we got back just
in time. We were the last two geeks they let in.

Backstage it was just me, Harry and Madison, and this guy with a
Polaroid.  She was really tiny! She was sitting at a makeup table,
completely nude.  It was so sweet to look at those perky nips right
in front of my face.  After ten minutes or so, I couldn't hold it in
any longer. I had to tell her that I was bummed that she had gotten
yet another boob job. She said she hated to do it, but the girls with
the big jugs are getting all the work.  We took two polaroids, one of
me spanking her and one of her sitting in my and Harry's laps,
spreading the old beav for the camera.  We gave her a tape of our
band Lovetribe--she dug it.  She was NASTY! She talked a bit about
the biz and fifteen minutes later we were run outta there--definitely
a night we will always remember!

-----------------------------------------

BETTY JEAN 
by Fuzzy Tweedlow

Why would any parent 
Nickname their daughter "B.J.?" 
Don't they know
That all the cruel little boys 
Will assume it stands 
For something
other than "Betty Jean?" 

That these boys will think 
She's flouting 
A predisposition 
For flossing Johnson 
All day and all night?

Oh, my sweet Betty Jean!

-----------------------------------------

FUZZY'S WANKNOTES

"Who not want what they can't have? Let them cast first stone!"--so
sayeth Fuzzy

There's a credit card TV ad currently running that looks just like a
scene from an Andrew Blake adult video. (Blake is the director of
such glossy classics as "Les Femmes Erotiques"; I think his stuff his
awesome but I wish he could add more synch sound. I suspect he shoots
them silent so he has the freedom to issue all the vocal directives
necessary to make them look as gorgeous as they do.) The ad begins
with a woman in riding gear descending the staircase of a
millionaire's postmodern palace. (It resembles a set used in some of
Blake's films.) I'm wondering if Blake directed this himself and for
that matter did he do the title sequence of the "Silk Stalkings"
syndicated series? And how about that stupid infomercial for that
exercise bike with the platoon of gals stroking in cadence--did he do
that one as well?...I'm working on interviews with veteran director
Paul Thomas and one of my favorite adult performers, Patricia
Kennedy. Hope to bring them to you in the next issue of
JOYWANK....Eros on the Net report: How about that industrious Nikki
Lewis (nicki@ukglam.demon.co.uk), UK skinmag model/actress who is
posting her resume and portfolio JPGs on the
"alt.binary.pictures.erotic" newsgroup?...Elizabeth, Whitney and
Kayce (tricoeds@ix.netcom.com) are three coeds who recently used the
internet to market a self-produced videotape of themselves frolicking
around in their apartment in the nude and playing with various sexual
toys and with each other. They posted ads and MPEG clips on
sexually-oriented binary newsgroups. Now they report that someone has
pirated the tape and has been using their own ad copy to sell it as
the "University of Texas Coeds". It's really pathetic that these
three women tried to cut out the middlemen only to find themselves
supporting an unsolicited electronic pimp. And now for my own
shameless solicitation: if the "tricoeds" see fit to send me a copy
I'll review it in the next JOYCE... VIVID Video now has a website, a
good source for JPGs of boxcovers but their stills and Quicktime
clips are unfortunately sanitized. People in the adult entertainment
industry seem to feel that if you get off once, you'll stop buying
their wares. That's why most adult film magazines are filled with
lame, teasing pictures, not because of censorship. Their motto ought
to be the same as Dorito's: "We'll make more!"...Someone has started
posting a periodic listing of the most frequent posters on the
alt.sex.movies newsgroup with short bios of these raunchy spelunkers,
including the ones who are industry insiders. A.S.M. posters get high
points for describing the events in their favorite videos in very
concrete terms: "Volume, consistency and splash-to-miss ratio rank
this a good facial..." Scatology, precision--Fuzzy is impressed...
Bob of Durham (bobber@tunl.tunl.duke.edu) sent me a nice black and
white JPG of a polaroid of him and Nikki Dial during her recent
appearance at Raleigh's Thee DollHouse. Bob writes: "I am pleased to
say that she is just as beautiful in person as on the video screen. I
was really surprised to find out how small she really is--a
diminutive 5'1." (I guess it is hard to judge from a porn video when
the women spend most of their time horizontal.) But she sure packs an
incredible body in that small frame. Her boobs have to be real (no
silicon here) since they hang (kind of droop) like the real thing and
are quite large for her size.  Her performance was above the par of
the 75 other dancers that were performing that night and I really
wished I wasn't in North Carolina since state laws limit the clothes
removal at a place that serves alcohol and she had to keep her
g-string on. Her legs were incredibly well toned with noticeable
strength in her thighs.She performed three shows each night for six
days and I saw the first two shows on Thursday night. There wasn't
any audience participation unless you count the close-up show she'd
give when you gave her a dollar (or more). The first show was the
standard DollHouse strip fare, but the second show was a little more
interesting with her entering the stage in a boxer get-up complete
with boxing gloves and shoes. It was nice to see a dancer without the
mandatory 4"-plus heels for once and still her legs looked
incredible.  She was available after each performance for polariods
to be taken with her (topless only, $20) which she would autograph.
The first one took three tries since either the camera or film kept
putting a line down the pictures. It really was a hassle to have her
sit in my lap three times and not touch! I went for another polaroid
after the second show and demanded that she give me a different pose
this time and she happily obliged. I asked her a question that had
been bouncing around on the net regarding whether her parents knew
what she did. (There seemed to be a dispute between what she said in
a movie of hers and a magazine interview). She gracefully dodged the
question by stating that some of her relatives knew, not saying
anything about parents. She ended up sitting off in a corner of the
audience during the break between performances and I almost wouldn't
have recognized her without makeup, her hair completely different and
the frumpy clothes but there is no mistaking the profile view of her
cute face. If you ever get a chance to see her live, I highly
recommend it"...Nikki is swell but Jamie Summers gets my vote as the
most beautiful adult entertainer of all time. Afraid she's out of the
business now, though... Got a nice Polaroid JPG of you and a porn
star? Send it to me care of JOYCE with a short account of the
experience and you might see it on this page next time...Our man in
LA is trying to get us an interview with the Rabelasian duo, Colin
Malone and Dino Everette, hosts of the awe-inspiring LA public access
show, COLIN'S SLEAZY FRIENDS, in which these two interview a
different porn star every time, often with hilarious results and
always giving fans a privileged look into the lives of adult film
personalities...I now worship a new raven-maned goddess and her name
is Erika Nann. I saw her in a tawdry cable film, "Mindtwister" and
just melted. She has also been in: "Die Watching" (1993), "Animal
Instincts" (1992), "Night Rhythms" (1992), and "Legion of Iron"
(1989). If anyone knows anything about her or has a JPG to help Fuzzy
build a proper altar, please advise...Speaking of altars,
Canada-based Blaine Wasylkiw has shut down his webpage dedicated to
Isis Nile, the ex-Soul Train dancer and computer programmer who is
one of the most wankable women in adult cinema. Who will take the
baton from Blaine?...

-----------------------------------------

SEX FOR NINE HOURS IN THE SEVENTIES 
by Ramone de Sika

Once I had sex for nine hours 
But then the seventies ended 
And what a rude awakening 
That was...

Those days sex was like coffee 
In the morning, and cognac at night 
It was an ordinary human emotion 
There was sex, but no lies or video tapes

Once I had sex for nine hours 
As though the earth had stood still 
And the body heat was continuously on 
For nine long hours...

Then suddenly the bomb fell 
Then sex became the forbidden fruit 
Yet sexual desires remained in place 
With no place to relinquish them
Except by means of modern love and the streets...

And now the memories linger in my mind 
The golden age of sex is gone
And the cheap thrill is gone too 
But even now, in the cities 
Some are charging for it by the hour... 
And what do you think about that, my friend?

Sex in the past 
And love of modern times-- 
Were they both same and one?

-----------------------------------------

LI'L RED ENGINE 
by Fuzzy Tweedlow

I once was the "Li'l Red Engine" 
Now I live on a modest pension 
I once did six loops a day 
Did boy-boy, too, but I'm not gay

Everything you've heard is true 
In fact, it's even worse 
My ex-wife
would get so sad 
She'd cry into her purse

I once knew a guy named Steve 
He'd pose nude for a bag of weed 
His money shot was quite impressive 
You'd never guess he was manic-depressive

Everything you've heard is true 
Don't stumble at the gate 
Get your fill of teenage rear 
Then stare into your plate

-----------------------------------------

LETTERS FROM MR. THRIFTY

(Mr. Thrifty is my friend John Marston, film editor, Seattle resident
and advocate of split window VW Microbus ownership.)

I now am "empowered" with my new/used Powerbook 165 with which I can
compute with the best of 'em. Please begin e-mailing at will...

The Troublesome Trischman Boy is currently haunting our dear Emerald
City and he has been, with my aid, terrorizing the streets with the
usual rental car power skids, etc., most notably in the vacant
parking lot of the Red Hook Brewery with his roommate Mark and myself
putting our lives at risk. Last night we also had a taste of fine
beer and delicious free food at the neighborhood pub, Murphy's (of
course), thanks to my friend and co-worker Denny--who works
there--and was quite relieved to see me show up so that we could make
final plans for today's shoot (turned out to be a 15 hour workday,
but fun)...

Actually, by strange circumstances - Bob Altman's son, Michael, was
running dailies and working in the cutting room on his Dad's new film
("Kansas City") until he was in a car accident last Sunday. Monday
morning I got a call from his editor, Gerri Peroni, with whom I
worked on that silly Jay Leno/Pat Morita DEG picture in Detroit,
summer 1987. She asked if I was available on short notice; I had
expressed interest in a cutting room position in February/March but
the production didn't budget a 2nd asst. on location and Gerri
decided to take someone locally instead. Now that poor Michael is not
up to the task (he's OK, but needs to recover), they need someone to
fill his place and luckily it's me. I need the work desperately and
my unemployment benefits run out this week...

So I fly to Kansas City Sunday morning to get familiar with
everything/everyone and will have a lot of backlogged dailies to run
for Bobby boy. What a break! It will be an honor to work for this
man, and there is a remote possibility I could continue in post
production (L.A.). They're cutting on Avid and we've spoken about my
getting some much-needed experience digitizing and learning more
about edit decision lists, etc. I have to get familiar with the Avid
system. I took a crash course this morning with a local editor I've
been in touch with here the last few years, who has an Avid. Boy,
I'll just have to get one of my own eventually. Oh, my, the wacky
world of modern "film" editing; it ain't the way it used to be...

Greetings from Kansas City! Beautiful weather today; have the day off
but tomorrow I hit the ground running. Got a lot to catch up on with
dailies, not to mention the equipment to run it on, the script and
all of the people I'm about to be thrown into the middle of halfway
through production (first time I've had to do this)...

Things are going very well--ran dailies for Bob's wife today and did
a lot of stuff in the cutting room with a special editing lady I met
for the first time on this show. OOHHH - the rhythm we had going,
conforming that picture to the Avid cut; handing the reels off to
each other; gently pushing each other to work efficiently as our new
relationship was taking form. Unfortunately she will not continue in
LA since she is committed to her husband in New York and doesn't want
to spend that much time away from him and home during
post-production. If I do go to LA I'm not sure I'll get someone quite
as gracious, as generous in spirit and understanding; someone who
will make me want to come back every day to the grind to earn more
credit card payments. But I'm not complaining, I'm just glad to be
getting what I am right now; although I should know I deserve even
better - is this editing thing it? Well, time will tell. I will be
making my own films again as soon as I make a little money doing
someone else's for a while...

We shoot here until about June 20 or so. "Kansas City" stars:
Jennifer Jason Leigh, Harry Belafonte, Miranda Richardson, Dermot
Mulroney and a number of great contemporary jazz players, among
others.

The backdrop for the film is the 1934 KC jazz scene and various
characters involved in it; the story revolves around a kidnapping and
is based on real events in Kansas City at the time--beautiful looking
stuff...

Tonight I showed my first dailies for Bob "The Old Master" Altman and
finished up another long day in the cutting room. The film looks
wonderful-- we watched some super-slowmo stuff they shot at the Hey
Hey Club set the other day: Crap shoots, mostly. And that reminds me
of the story my dad told me the day when I arrived here about how he
stopped in KC in 1932 (two years before the period of this film) on
his way to New Orleans, where he saw Louis Armstrong play at the
Forest Club and where he won $80 (1932!) gambling and got so drunk
with his buddy that he fell down an entire flight of stairs. He had
free tickets on the railways since HIS dad was one of the heads of
the Railway Express Company which ran freight up and down the
Mississippi. He was moving to Long Beach, CA where he was to
experience the Big Quake of 1933 while working at American Oil before
the days when he exercised on the beach with Robert Mitchum and
joined the officers' program in the Navy...

I'm trying to imagine what it must have been like as a young man
coming of age in the Depression, by watching this film take form. Of
course my dad was not involved with gangsters or the jazz scene but
was certainly aware of those kinds of things going on and I'm certain
he had a few run-ins of which he does not speak that often. I really
should videotape him sometime on all this stuff--I'm sure he could
rattle off some tales... So those are my thoughts for tonight - wish
you were here enjoying some of this Absolut Citron with me...I could
go party with the camera guys but I'm just too darned beat and I
think I'll just go eat some leftover Orange Chicken. But it's a GOOD
kind of tired...

It looks like the production schedule here on "Kansas" is being
stretched a bit, as Bob has not been feeling tip-top and the usual
delays have pushed our wrap date back a little, to the end of June.
LA post-production work seems unlikely now so I might get to meet my
buddy Jim from Austin when he flies up to Seatown around the time
we're done here. There is a picture named "Kiplinger's Syndrome"
shooting in Seattle around the end of the summer (pending financing)
and I've already spoken with the producers a few times this year
about working on it. It would be great to work there since I just
moved into my new house and there is no better time of year than
summer in the Great Pacific Northwest (come visit, you weeny)...

Also, my friend Scott from "Road to Welville" and I were talking
about "On the Road" which shoots in San Francisco late in the year
(Coppola directs, not sure it's cast yet--Zoetrope Studio), and I
would LOVE to work on that if the opportunity arose....

Well, it's summertime and the livin' is Krazy. I'm a bit lonesome
like I said, but on the flip side it's kinda nice just having some
private contemplative time when I can chill and write and be working
and not have to worry about fuckin' money like usual. I got in touch
with the bus crowd (VW) here - nothing hardcore (it's KC) but met
some nice folks. I did shoot some video at a SHRINER'S ANTIQUE AUTO
SHOW on Sunday and got not only some groovy shots of old cars (teens
to 60's) but an excellent recording of this Rockin' and a-Shrinin'
pipe organ player and some of that nutty chopper-trike acrobatic
stuff they like doing so much. The topper was a serendipitous wrong
turn in Independence, MO which led me like a lemming to the World HQ
of the "Reorganized" Church of Latter Day Saints whose newest and
most fantastic monument is this totally tripped-out silvery
spiral-seashell spire which glistens with a most tactless yet
captivating aura. It blew me away. What I didn't know is that "Kansas
City" had shot nights there a few weeks before I got on the picture,
and this chick in the transportation department told me today that it
was very eerie at night the way the signal light on top flashed--the
entire presence of the place struck me as odd. But that's what they
want, isn't it?

Meanwhile, I'm tired and hungry since I'm trapped in my luxurious
surroundings without a vehicle (shoulda brought my bike, dammit) and
only have $50/day (per diem to Latin fans) to spend on my heart's
desires. Last night I visited the revolving Skies Restaurant and
lounge where I made about one-and-a-half revolutions while eating,
drinking and meeting hot young German girls. Tonight is a big e-mail
night so I'm delaying all the important things like eating, although
I have been drinking a beer and having a few chips (Heck, that's
dinner ain't it?)...

We screened another cut sequence today for Bob and gang, one which we
conformed from Gerri's Avid cut. Looking very fine...

It's off to the Lake Tapawingo Beach Party with the crew;
fortunately, the transpo dept. lent me a 15-passenger Maxivan, so I
can "feel the freedom." Laundry, grocery shopping, just cruisin'
around in that sexy behemoth--a whole new weekend world has just
become a reality!

This weekend (6/17/95) is the big Union Station shoot, where the
young Charlie Parker meets one of the other characters while a
Democratic rally with Harry Truman's senatorial campaign speech goes
on in the background. It was an uncommon opportunity for me, as part
of the editorial staff, to visit the set, watch Mr. Bob in action,
and eat lots of great food for lunch. Tomorrow they shoot the
exteriors, with many beautiful antique cars outside of the station.
The station is currently unused and in fact has been falling apart
from neglect, but the film company has spent lots of money restoring
parts of it, and it will be finished and reopened as a children's
science museum in the future. It has a beautiful and spacious
interior, as you might expect from a train station built in that
period (early this century)...

I spoke with Bob's assistant tonight about screening some of the
prints we have here of his films - we may take a look at "California
Split", a mid-70's film with George Segal. I got a call, by the way,
from Segal's daughter this week; I got to know her on "Sleepless"
(she was Ephron's asst.) and we have been talking about shooting a
story she has written which takes place in Seattle...but back to
"Split"--I saw a 16mm scope print of it in a little screening room in
Seattle a coupla months ago and really liked it, so hopefully we'll
show it again if this print isn't too ratty...

Oh, Georgia! No, not the state--but the newest Jennifer Jason Leigh
movie, not out yet, but we just received a print today to show this
weekend. I showed the first coupla reels for Jennifer a little while
ago. It also stars John Doe among others and takes place in Seattle.
Story of a woman, played by Leigh, who is trying to compete with her
famous big sister, a singer named Georgia Flood. It was shooting when
I was there last fall; unfortunately the cutting room was in New
York. I did stay two doors down from John Doe with my buddy Mark, who
was shooting that silly "Born to Be Wild" movie last summer, which
was called "Katie" at the time. (The gorilla movie--I'm in it,
actually, in the climactic courtroom scene at the end when the
gorilla named Katie comes on to testify in sign language). That was
also right when "Mad Love" (Drew Barrymore/Chris O'Donnell) was
wrapping up...

I just saw "Crumb"--what a piece of work! Not just the movie...I've
been waiting to see it for a while and it just opened in KC today. My
boss Gerri and co-worker Keiko and I went to see it tonight, and boy
was it interestin'. I had seen R. Crumb's comix over the years and
admired them in a way, but there's nothin' like seeing him and his
family in this documentary...

Got in the movie! OK, just a background role, but entertaining
nonethless. Got to dress in period (1934) clothes with hat and
fur-collared coat. Got my hair buzzed and had to shave off my goat.
(No worries, I can grow it back in weeks). It's the next to final
scene, and I play the curious grocery store owner with wife, peering
out of our storefront door. Not much left now--just packing up the
cutting room and screening room for LA.

Well, the "Kansas City" wrap party is this Monday, and I'm taking my
new pal Hadley to it--should be fun. Looks like I'll definitely be
back in Seatown by the 4th for fireworks over Lake Union with my bud
Jimmy from Austin.

-----------------------------------------

BOZOS, BIMBOS AND PSYCHOS 
by Ramone de Sika

Oh Lord, what a gathering 
I just don't fit 
Though I've known them
All through my life, 
All too often...

I had hear of 
Friends, lovers and lunatics 
Love, money and cigarettes
But bozos, bimbos and psychos?

To be among bozos, bimbos and psychos 
Life becomes a drag 
And it lingers too long... 
Not the kind of life I can take

So one Sunday at the church of God 
I said a silent prayer: 
"Oh Lord, almighty 
Please rid the world of 
Bozos, bimbos and psychos"

And I know that I may sometimes 
Freak these triplet groups by saying
Peculiar things to them 
Such as, "Do you come often--here?" 
But to be among the bozos, bimbos and psychos...

I figured that they had heard it all 
Yet I still don't fit and never
will...

[note: Mr. de Sika pronounces "psycho" as "puh-psycho"]

-----------------------------------------

BENT SCRUBLES 
By Cookie Bush

I'm thinking of that photo, post-deed: he in a white t-shirt with
becoming tear at the neck, thin-lipped smirk that's already come to
terms with its end...

(Confession: I'm in ball-licking love with L.H. Oswald.) Okay, so I'd
fall to my grass-stained knees for anybody named Harvey and Oswald
all at once. Hard to resist.

I'm comfortable in my admission of this only because Norman
("Oswald's Tale", Random House) has romanced the story out of its
strain of taboo. If you ask me, the venerable Mr. Mailer has
something of a boner himself for the late, on-time marksman.

Eh bien, tant pis . No sense jacking over spent rubles (or rent
scruples, for that matter). My one and only has gone the way of all
grubworms. Not for me ever in this life to make him throb and sing
like a well-tuned John Deere; like that tight-winged Marina never
could or would.

-----------------------------------------

SINUS SAYS 
by Ben Ohmart

He goes from that place of Sunday worship and settles on what porn
for the night's entertainment. A woman at the half-window at the
video place knows she mustn't give the man a visual of her thoughts;
the customer must be allowed to purchase smut. That is why they stock
so much of it.

The free cut grass of May 2 is blowing onto the tops of all the cars
that have been idle for the day of apartment dwelling. Ned sneezes
twice and goes from his car space to the building of his girlfriend's
and after knocking, admits, "It's me."

There is no sound from behind the door. A gentle woman with great
heaps of dirty clothes comes up the stairs from the one bedroom
apartment and smiles a little because she has good eyes and can see
the white label on the video. He pounds again, and someone from above
who is just coming out, possibly only to complain, complains. But
still he pounds until a voice whispers from behind the door which he
wants to open, "What?"

"Lemme me in, Berth.."

"This...isn't...Berth..," she explains, and he checks the address he
wrote down for himself. It could be an "O", but he is sure apartments
don't go that high. He apologizes to D who gives him whispers of
encouragement. He checks his information just once more. It is the
correct apartment complex. He goes to ask the manager.

She looks through an index card file, and comes away saying, "There
are three people of that name here." And she lists them.

"Come on!"

She lists them again, but Ned explains he is using surprise, and she
says oh.

"The one I mean is at 'O'."

"Well what're your alphabets then?"

She lists them off, and he thanks for a full minute. He is almost
ready to cry. The seat of his pants is wet, and he has no change for
tomorrow's parking meter. The sky is cloudy and at night. Great black
squirrels run the length of him, and show him they are not afraid.

He begins knocking on the three doors, one by one.

"Yes?"

"I'm looking for--"

The door is slammed. But that's all right. That wasn't her, and she
lives alone anyway.

The tape is feeling heavy in his hand, and he shifts his glasses so
the trickling sweat doesn't force them off his nose. He tries "L",
but there is no one home.

At "M", of 112, he asks, "Berth?"

"Excuse me?" asks a man in return.

"I'm looking for Berth. We met eleven nights ago, and she's been to
my place twice. I thought--"

"Is there much more of this?"

Ned tips his eyes in place of a hat and menstruates that he hopes he
hasn't caused any inconvenience, and at least the answer is civil
before the door is slammed. And Ned is at a total loss.

He sits on some stone stairs that are supposed to get home dwellers
up a steep little hill. Several night people forge past him, and he
begs some pardons. He thinks, and is hard on himself for being so
late, but the bad handwriting he's put on the paper doesn't help. It
doesn't help to stare at it. Ned balls up the paper and throws it
away recklessly in his pocket.

He begins at "A" and works from there.

-----------------------------------------

TRUE TALES FOR TROUBLED TOTS

Dave Sloan was born with a chair tied to his left leg.

Curiously, no one ever asked him why he couldn't just untie it.

And yet, many were frequently made to listen to Dave's harangues
about the advantages and disadvantages of being born with a wooden
chair tied to one's leg.

"Driving is difficult...

it sure didn't help during that tour in 'Nam...

and I can't say it's improved my golf swing, but...

I always have a place to sit down!"

And (nature or nurture?), Dave was a sit-down sort of a guy.

But he always stood up when pretty Sylvia Welch passed by.

So Dave married Sylvia, who was born with an electric mixer tied to
her arm.

MORAL: All good things got to come to an end; it's the same with the
wildwood weed.

-----------------------------------------

I GET RILED QUICKLY 
by Sir Winalot

My Saturday:

It's England and that's OK because I got a job now and I live in the
South of England and I go to Gary's house to pick him up and we're
going to town and then I think that it would be great if we could
just plant things in the ground and they would grow more and more. I
could plant a record in the ground and then it would grow lots of
them. I told Gary about this and he said that it would be better if
you could just write what you wanted on a piece of paper and put it
in the ground and it would grow. I thought that this would make a
good story for children but then I realised that if that really
happened the world's economy would collapse and this would cause the
demise of the public [private?-ed.] sector and we don't really want
that to happen so I thought I'd better keep that idea under wraps
because kids might be depressed with the concept of no entertainment
industry.

Reading town centre is pretty nice; it has lots of good shops but it
also has lots of buskers since the pedestrianisation of the shopping
centre. This is a bad thing. Buskers don't have much talent and they
seem to be just masquerading beggars. If someone wants to be a beggar
then cool, go for it, don't try and put people off giving you money
by playing a guitar badly. I think a beggar without an instrument has
a lot more chance of making money. I look at buskers and I think that
they have nice instruments and maybe they have expensive saxophones
and I know I couldn't afford things like that so I don't give them
any money but if all they have is a mangy dog on a piece of string
then I'll give them some. On the whole I only give money to female
beggars as they must have it a lot harder than men because female
beggars probably get hit on by pimps and Johns and stuff so I try to
give them what they need at that time but a guy doesn't have those
problems so I guess I just don't have enough sympathy for him. Some
beggars shout too much as well and that is one way to make people
ignore you. I think that if someone goes around shouting about Elvis
and stuff then he becomes almost invisible to people and that may be
a good thing because if he wanted to rob a bank he could just go into
the bank shouting about Elvis and everyone would ignore him as he
took all the money.

Most people don't shout, though, and all beggars like dogs on string.
This has positive and negative effects, though.

The positive effect is that people see the cute little dog with a
string leash and give the beggar more money.

The negative effect is that the extra money they get they have to
spend on the dog's food and water so it sort of cancels itself out.
But I doubt that when they start begging they think about the
catch-22 of dog ownership--they see the money and think that it must
be good but we know it doesn't really help at all. But dogs on string
do give vagrants company, a bit like "The Littlest Hobo"--one boy and
his dog against the world.

So when we're in town we look for records and we find them right
enough and, of course, we buy them. The people who work in the record
shop don't know shit about shit, but that's probably why they're
working in a record store and not doing something else; but maybe
that's unfair so I'll just assume that the people who work in the
record stores in Reading are stupid, unless of course they work in
small shops--it's just large chain stores that hire dumb people, I
guess. And I'm lamenting the fact that we can't get records on
emergency home delivery because that would be cool and we buy so much
rekids that they should drive to our house in little vans to deliver
the records but they don't so we have to travel to get rekids and
anyway people in vans are stupid. I really hate people who drive
double glazing vans. I really hate them and there is only one reason
I hate them and that's because they have little flashing lights on
top of their vans like they were police vans or something. I mean, is
there any reason someone would need double glazing in an emergency
and they could put their little flashing light on and their siren and
speed to the scene of the imminent glazing? I think the real reason
for those fucking stupid little flashing lights is that the people in
the van need to justify their tiny little existence and think that
the act of glazing should be recognised as an emergency service; they
are just sad, they really think we're impressed by their silly
fucking little flashing lights!

So the people in the record store, well, they are stupid and not only
that but they don't really want to help at all. I ask for a CD and
they don't know if they've got it or not and don't care. I just want
to say to them "Do you realise how much cash I may spend in this
store, do you realise what a sad record collector like me spends on
sides?" And then maybe they'd get their act together. I find that
pulling out as much money as you can from your pocket makes people in
shops kiss your arse so I try and carry around the entire content of
my monthly income with me at all times so that I can get some proper
service. But the people in record stores don't know anything about
records. I don't mind ordinary people having no knowledge of a
record's value, it helps me a lot, but when people set themselves up
as proper dealers and obviously haven't got a clue... I was at a car
boot sale last week and I spied a few boxes of records which looked
interesting but there was this "record dealer" looking through the
box before me and I knew the guy vaguely as a dealer and expected him
to take all the valuable shit but he bought about two really lame
records which I knew weren't worth anything so I get to the box and
after half-an-hour I've walked away with in the region of 50 albums
and 12"s which I could easily off-load for between 5 to 40 quid a
shot. They were all stuff which I could easily sell at a big profit;
most of them were worth around 30 quid each and I paid a quid for
them and I'm thinking that if I was a dealer I would be a good
businessman but I always end up keeping all the rarities I buy
because I love records. But this "dealer" didn't have a friggin' clue
and that made me mad because he obviously rates himself as a dealer
but he missed all the good bargains and it wasn't because of his
narrow scope because there was all sorts of bargains there which I
spotted so this irked me because he should go home and learn about
records--what's worth a lot, what's in demand, etc. And I'm too angry
now so I can't write anything else.

-----------------------------------------

BANG-A-CAN NOTES

The July issue of A.P. listed the results of it's survey of the best
99 records of the past ten years in honor of that magazine's tenth
anniversary and I made a checklist of the ones I have listened to at
least once. With 19 out of 99 I suppose I ought to be ashamed but
somehow I'll get through the day. For those with the list: I own,
once owned or borrowed 1, 2, 3, 4, 13, 14, 16, 21, 32, 39, 47, 48,
51, 59, 70, 72, 74, 75 and 83...From Norton Records, a 63-cut
retrospective CD of Dunn, NC's most famous son, Link Wray: "Mr.
Guitar: Original Swan Recordings" JOYCE wishes she had a review copy
of this one (wink, nudge, knees on the floor) but she'll probably
have to shell out some cash (more likely she'll trade in some stuff)
...Check out Sue Trowbridge's great Loud Family page
[http://www.charm.net/~trow/] and be sure to take a look at Scott
Miller's list of current faves...Whatever happened to the San
Francisco group The Sneetches? I've been listening to "Slow" and
"1985-1991" a lot lately...the video for Chapel Hill band Archers of
Loaf's "Harnessed in Slums" is a scream, set in a bingo parlor and
featuring local super-8 guru Norwood Cheek as well as other CH
notables like Jason of Minerva Strain serving as extras. Nice song,
too, though I'm not a Loaf fan. I remember seeing
that nice Eric Bachmann every day sitting and writing in the sorely
missed Columbia Street Bakery. I wote a screenplay in that bakery and
it was my haunt when I lived in CH. The new coffee shops there are
not the type that inspire long afternoon reveries--they're noisy,
have background music playing, permit smoking, have poor views and
inadequate ventilation, bad coffee, and don't encourage the quiet
loitering necessary for the production of literature...

-----------------------------------------

MUSIC REVIEWS


THE SEA AND CAKE "Nassau" (Thrill Jockey)

DANCING BARE FIT: NASSAU, SHE WROTE By Tracey Fincher

Drums swelling incipient...and the dance of swoony dream that is The
Sea and Cake's "Nassau" begins. With "Nature Boy," (our Puck to lead
us through), all unwitting-wily-wild and dreaming of his lonely scent
(smell of saffron; gypsy leap), into the midday sun we go. Then under
"Parasol" to stave the scream of sunlight; nature boy laid to slumber
at a holiday's elegy of strings. "Parasol," to my ear/mind, is one of
the most necessary poems ever put to tune--the inexorability of
elegy? Frightening business, to be sure; when Sam Prekop
(vocalist/guitarist) avows, "It's a chance I would take," his voice
wavers on "would" with doleful equivocation that belies a sticky
awareness of the consequences of chancing sweetness-of-song at this
restive century's end. Peril-soul...

This ode to the barely slighted modulates felicitously and
immediately (grace &agrave; the sexy, insistent percussion of John
McEntire) slap-dang into the drop jaw face of "A Man Who Never Sees a
Pretty Girl That He Doesn't Love Her a Little." Our nature boy,
naivete endearingly intact, tripping over hydrants and pedestrians.
Then, as effortlessly and mellifluously (goes the music, not the
gawking man) into the Windy City cowboy lament, "The World is Against
You." Late and soon; sweet and sand; too much with me. Next, on to
the Style Counselor (irreducible compliment, this) complaint of
Archer Prewitt--"Lamont's Lament"--echoing off the unflagging,
repetitive lyricism of Prekop, punctuated oh-so-wantonly by that
characteristic fuck-squeal.

Goddamn. After all that and two cigarettes, I need a nap, too! Right
on time: "Soft and Sleep" to lullaby me to gypsy dreams."Foxgloves
eyes"? I want some.

Mr. Prewitt again (as enthusiastic a Feelies fan as ever I was?)
archin' and swingin' a wily groove through "The Cantina." Then Sam
leading up, bending so sexy so, and I'm floating near the ceiling
like I don't need to hear that voice crack just once more. Sing and
write this man surpassing does, like a hard-won memory. Some whit,
some whither, maybe just for me?

There are three more offerings on the album, cryptic and moody the
whole lot, ending in a quiescently Dionysian lonely spin. Circle
dance of one? And that one left holding the tea bag like a concave
ceramic strawberry after a darjeeling dervish? Never better.
Lonely...

(Thrill Jockey, P.O. Box 476794 Chicago, IL 60647)
-----------------------------------------

THE FALLING WALLENDAS "The Falling Wallendas" (IMI)

This Chicago-based band's debut CD is gorgeously-produced and includes
more than enough catchy tunes for me to predict big things for them
if they can stop worrying about falling through the cracks of current
trends ("never even heard of nine inch nails" is one song's
complaint), stop trying to impress interviewers with how thoughtful
their lyrics are (they're okay), tell the one guy to lose the perm,
and just keep writing infectious head-bobbers like "My Big Brain," my
pick for repeat radio play. This is pop to be proud of, though the
vocals (by Scott Bennett and Allen Keller) are perhaps too slick for
hard-line college radio listeners. Which is too bad, since they'll
miss pleasurable cuts like "Mitchell Cooper," a Richard Corey-esque
cautionary fable that makes delicious use of a surprising break
featuring choir girlish backup vocals by Mia Berkman. Inventive
arrangements abound: harmonica and accordion parts make a merely
genial number like "Monkeys' Uncle" sparkle. There are semi-clever
lyrics, of course, and an excellent ear for meter evidenced in lines
like "orange almond fur peppered with tiny flecks of anthracite"
("Venus Kicked the Stars").The acrobatic Wallendas miss the bar on
slower numbers like "Agatha" and "Sleeping Beauty" but the very brief
"Whatever Happened to Jenny Fountain" indicates future improvements
in that event. Finally, check out "A Good Thing" and "Hanging"--two
songs that ought to win these guys a large following.

(IMI Records Inc., 541 N. Fairbanks Court, Chicago, IL 60611)
-----------------------------------------

HAZE "Demo: Tom Dooley..."

Not to be confused with the Portland band Hazel, Haze is an
L.A.-based singer/songwriter who won "Best Alternative Artist" at
this year's South by Southwest demo competition. Her vocals on a
funked-up version of the folk ballad "Tom Dooley" are too breathy and
the track is a throwaway novelty. The other two selections are
well-produced, highly danceable funk numbers with nice work by
guitarist John Butler and drummer Mark Bistany. "Free" features a
riff lifted from (I think) "Dancin' Machine." "God (Wish You Were
Here) is the standout tune, employing double-tracked vocals and
sultry, psychedelic phrasing by Haze: good songwriting is, after all,
less a matter of brainy lyrics than it is the effective use of a
simple double-entendre like "God, I wish you were here." If this
"former dance artist"'s stage presence is as skilled and sexy as her
vocals she ought to have no problems gaining a huge following but its
doubtful she'll have much appeal on the alternative circuit. Haze has
a release on Mutiny Records out soon.

(contact: rhythmbay@aol.com)
-----------------------------------------

SCRUB BUCKET
by Fuzzy Tweedlow

I went to work today 
With a smile on my face 
It's still the worst job
In the human race

But I was happy 
For what I'd got 
A new scrub bucket 
That my wife bought

Polished aluminum 
Shiny as can be 
All the other fellows 
Were green with envy

Come back from lunch 
What did I discover? 
My new scrub bucket 
In the hands of another!

That's my scrub bucket! 
I saw you took it! 
That's my scrub bucket,
Not yours!

Every day at seven 
I mop the hallway 
And I hum a little tune 
I call "Friday"

I use soap and bleach 
And blue Ajax 
'Been here fifty years 
And I still can't relax

Seems there's always some 
Youngster after my job 
A-sayin' I missed this 
Or that doorknob

A man's only as good 
As his tools 
I got to keep my bucket 
Away from those fools!

That's my scrub bucket! 
I saw you took it! 
That's my scrub bucket,
Not yours!



-----------------------------------------

end of 
JOYCE WANKABLE #2
hope you enjoyed it
send commments and questions to:
hgambill@rbdc.rbdc.com
Unless otherwise indicated all contents 
copyright (c) 1995 HERBERT GAMBILL


