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Sunday, April 01, 2007
Del's Inspiration

 

Del Close was inspired by the French Oulipo writing movement to create and build on improvisation.

Oulipo

From Wikipedia, the free encyclopedia

Oulipo stands for "Ouvroir de littérature potentielle", which translates roughly as "workshop of potential literature". It is a loose gathering of (mainly) French-speaking writers and mathematicians, and seeks to create works using constrained writing techniques. It was founded in 1960 by Raymond Queneau

 and François Le Lionnais.

Other notable members include novelists like Georges Perec and Italo Calvino, poets like Oskar Pastior or Jacques Roubaud, also known as a mathematician.

The group defines the term 'littérature potentielle' as (rough translation): "the seeking of new structures and patterns which may be used by writers in any way they enjoy".

Constraints are used as a means of triggering ideas and inspiration, most notably Perec's "story-making machine" which he used in the construction of Life: A User's Manual. As well as established techniques, such as lipograms (Perec's novel A Void) and palindromes, the group devises new techniques, often based on mathematical problems such as the Knight's Tour of the chess-board and permutations

Oulipian works

Some examples of Oulipian writing:

Roubaud's La Belle Hortense, a whimsical detective story, in which six princes, all brothers, are suspects. All six appear in turn, in a different sequence each time. One of the six breaks the pattern: this is a clue that he is the culprit.

Queneau's Exercices de Style (Exercises in Style ), in which he tells the same simple story ninety-nine times, each in a different style.

Queneau's Cent Mille Milliards de Poèmes (Hundred Thousand Billion Poems) is inspired by children's picture books in which each page is cut into horizontal strips which can be turned independently, allowing different pictures (usually of people) to be combined in many ways. Queneau applies this technique to poetry: the book contains 10 sonnets, each on a page. Each page is split into 14 strips, one for each line. The author estimates in the introductory explanation that it would take approximately 200 million years to read all possible combinations.

Constraints

Some Oulipian constraints:

The "N+7" method: Replace every noun in a text with the noun seven entries after it in a dictionary. For example, "Call me Ishmael. Some years ago..." (from Moby Dick) becomes "Call me islander. Some yeggs ago...". Results will vary depending upon the dictionary used. This technique can also be performed on other lexical classes, such as verbs.

Snowball: a poem in which each line is a single word, and each successive word is one letter longer.

Lipogram: Writing that excludes one or more letters. The previous sentence is a lipogram in B, F, H, J, K, Q, V, Y, and Z (it doesn't contain any of those letters.)

The prisoner's constraint (a.k.a the "macao" constraint) is a type of lipogram that omits letters with ascenders and descenders (b, d, f, g, h, j, k, l, p, q, t, and y).

Palindromes

In 1960 Del was at Second City when he discovered the writing revolution going on in France. The vast majority of French readers had never heard of it, let alone Americans, but in those days science fiction geeks could sense ripples world wide. In the stifling world of America in the late 1950's, they searched for creativity everywhere.

Imagine writing a story in which every sentence begins with the same first word. This is Oulipian. All the websites, books, articles I've ever seen on Del never mention how Del got the idea to go from ad lib, to improv, to oulipian constraints which would lead to the Harold. Perhaps I was the only person who ever asked him what his inspiration was.

All comedians already live with the law of threes- vaudeville comedians discovered a joke would work three times to the same audience and passed the info down for decades. But how to create a form of comedy that was a group activity, on stage, in which the individual would shine? Del, a fan of Ayn Rand, wanted to create a group activity that would allow the individual to shine. A contradiction? Not if he made it work.

And from Bill Murray to John Belushi to Chris Farley- he certainly would.

The idea that a group would be given the same constraints and create a wonderful, fragile environment in which individual creativity would shine became his goal.

But there are many, many constraints possible. Del always wanted the Harold form, the name he would years later give to his long form improv style, to grow and be used not only in comedy but drama, science fiction, horror, mystery ( oh yeah- don't even tell me that wouldn't be a great mystery), romance- every narrative form.

Sadly the people he worked with in the end lacked such vision, and now Harold ( also the slang term for heroin in the UK ) is strictly a improvisation exercise for middle class kids who want to be famous.

As opposed to wanting, needing to create.

And Del needed to create. Anyone who has done improvisation can now spot the constraints.  When I did improv comedy with THE WRECKING CREW** around 2000 instead of having the audience yell out subject matter- we would have them yell out constraints! 

Today almost all improv schools follow the same formula- put students through different levels while dangling a carrot that 1 or 2 people might be hired by SNL and became famous.

Because being famous today is seen as the goal.

It was not always so.

Del years later from 1960 at Crosscurrents, a bar that he would work from after being fired by Second City, would need to have a show up by the weekend to make his rent. Working with students he could teach novices long form in just 4 hours! So can I.

But there is no money in that. Levels of improv were introduced, and students wishing a lottery ticket like chance at fame would go through classes until they were "ready" for long form.

How long does it take to learn a fucking game?

The first chapter of this saga was written in the style of the Harold. This chapter has been the monolog.

I'll bet you can guess what style the next chapter will be written in!

END OF CHAPTER 2: THE MONOLOG

Cyber footnotes

Would you like to try your hand at a Oulipian constraints exercise? Go here:  http://home.earthlink.net/~eater/oulipo/index.html

Here is the French website for the movement.  http://www.oulipo.net/  To translate from the French go to the almighty Google (TM) search page

http://google.com  and you will notice to the right of the search box are the words LANGUAGE TOOLS. Click on that to enter the above website and translate it from French to English!

 **The Wrecking Crew never played comedy clubs. We did however do midnight shows at the Biograph, the Music Box movie theaters in front of audiences of anywhere from 80 to several hundred people. From Rogers Park coffee shops to near northside art galleries. The way improv schools work, audiences are usually composed of comedy teams who leave when they are done, parents and friends of the team There is rarely pay. Doing long form comedy in front of punk rockers, horror film fans (we even did a horror movie convention!), midnight stoners remains in my memory quite a peak.

However, there is such a glut of improv in Chicago- the press long ago decided to only cover a few schools. And Reader critics weren't going to stay awake to midnight to review us! It was difficult to get the press to understand what we were doing, and what made it different.

                                                                                                                                                      

 

Posted at 09:11 am by Psychomike
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Monday, April 09, 2007
SubGenius Slack Letters!

INTERMISSION
 
Before I move on to the next chapter, thought this would be a good time to print some of the responses this blog has generated.
 
Nice to see you on the net and writing well. Check out myspace page:
 
Thanks!
 
Who are you?
 
I'm a holy man.
 
What do you do?
 
DJ. Write, produce and direct theatre and film.
 
What is this all about?- CR
 
Beats me. We'll both find out as the work progresses.
 
Your holiness,
 
Ok, that's better!
 
Did this shit really happen or is this taken from an old issue of Hustler?- Mike Woloshin
 
It really happened, it really is happening, those letters in HUSTLER were made up by the way!
 
More Del please! - Name
 
Plenty more coming.
 
I have never read anything like this before. One part of the second chapter I followed the links to, for example. I watched a 45 minute long documentary on hippies and diggers, read pages of text and before I knew it, one section of one chapter had me involved for over 2 hours. This makes books look very old. A biography written as a blog with full use of the web is just as impressive as you writing in the different comedy forms. Some brave book company should put this on a disc! - Patrick Rogers
 
Thanks.
 
This should be a book. I'm not kidding. There are enough references already to so many different people who would be interested even if they didn't know about Del, this could really be huge. - Bryan Wendorf, Chicago Underground Film Festival
 
Thanks.
 
The Oulipo section was really good. - Geoff Plitt, Improv Teacher
 
Thanks.
 
A great read. Nice to see "our" history get recorded. - Jeremiadist
 
Well it is a different way of looking at it. Thanks.
 
Are you an apologist for Scientology?
 
No. As an atheist, all religions look equal to me. If they serve as a community, fulfill basic requirements they are not a cult. Scientology is as much a religion as Catholicism. And can be just as expensive! And I can't wait to get to the untold story of the 1982 Subgenius Convention- think the craziest scene Hunter S. Thompson ever concocted- on peyote! I don't apologize for that either.
 
CLICK ON WORD NEXT IN RIGHT HAND CORNER TO CONTINUE TO NEW POSTS

Posted at 11:52 am by Psychomike
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Thursday, April 12, 2007
Music Mayhem@SubGenius Slack!

CHAPTER THREE:
 
Cause I'm N Luv Wit a Stripper
There's a man going around taking names and he decides
Can you hear me when I call
And at my feet eternity tries ever sweeter plans for me
But the Early Mornin, Stoned Pimp is here
"Baby don't walk away from me (oh no, no,no)"
 
'cause that's my woman there
"I'm sorry for what she's done."
Dont take your love to town
And I'm the one who cares
I Fell Into A Burning Ring Of Fire
 
Don't go promising the skies tonight
When the stars fall from the sky, when the world cannot make me cry
How do you speak to the prettiest girl
On the day after forever I'll just begin again
Do I worry `cause you're stepping out
 
You've got your own way of looking at it baby
Maybe I'll understand why you had to leave
It's been the ruin of many a poor girl
Picture it if you will, heaven right here on earth 
I used to be a dancer at the local strip club
 
You can't get money for blood
Money for rope
She's like heroin
There are plenty of ways you can hurt a man
Tell me quick, ain't love a kick in the head?
 
 
The above song is made of a line taken from existing songs. 25 songs total. How many songs do you recognize?
 
END OF CHAPTER 3







Posted at 10:10 am by Psychomike
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Thursday, April 19, 2007
What Was In Music Mayhem!

CHAPTER 4
 
Don't know how many of the songs you could identify in my experiment, but here is the list. Now if I had time to mix this.......
 
Cause I'm N Luv Wit a Stripper-- I'M IN LOVE WIT A STRIPPER by T Pain
 
There's a man going around taking names and he decides -     THE MAN COMES AROUND By Johnny Cash
Can you hear me when I call -  Can You Hear Me By Renaissance
And at my feet eternity tries ever sweeter plans for me - Ship Of Fools By Robert Plant
But the Early Mornin, Stoned Pimp is here - Early Mornin' Stoned Pimp By Kid Rock
"Baby don't walk away from me (oh no, no,no)" - Don't Walk Away By Jhean
 
'cause that's my woman there - Gimmie Three Steps By Lynryd Skynyrd
"I'm sorry for what she's done." - As I Went Out One Morning By Bob Dylan
Dont take your love to town - Ruby By Kenny Rogers
And I'm the one who cares - The Only One Who Cares By Reeba McIntire
I Fell Into A Burning Ring Of Fire - Ring Of Fire By Johnny Cash
 
Don't go promising the skies tonight - Crazy Beautiful By Hanson
When the stars fall from the sky, when the world cannot make me cry- By When The Stars Fall From The Sky By Stiff Little Fingers
How do you speak to the prettiest girl - How Do You Speak To An Angel By Lou Reed
On the day after forever I'll just begin again - Day After Forever By Bing Crosby
Do I worry `cause you're stepping out - Do I Worry By Frank Sinatra
 
You've got your own way of looking at it baby - The Hard Way By Keith Urban
Maybe I'll understand why you had to leave - I wish You'd Stay By Brad Paisley
It's been the ruin of many a poor girl - House Of The Rising Sun By Traditional
Picture it if you will, heaven right here on earth - Love Can Change Your Mind By Lonestar
I used to be a dancer at the local strip club - Volvo Driving Soccer Mom By Everclear
 
You can't get money for blood - Love For Tender By Elvis Costello
Money for rope - Gimmie Some Truth By John Lennon 
She's like heroin -She's Like Heroin By System Of A Down
There are plenty of ways you can hurt a man - Another One Bites The Dust By Queen
Tell me quick, ain't love a kick in the head? - Ain't That A Kick In The Head By Dean Martin

Posted at 04:08 pm by Psychomike
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Monday, April 23, 2007
Del's Carny Life

THE CARNY
 
 
Del was quiet in the corner, surrounded by the carny folk that had taken him in. He looked over the people who had worked the carny and tried to keep up with what they were saying but couldn't. He was hearing words he'd never heard before. Beans and Fireball and a girl said her gadget was broke and lugen and talker what the hell were they talking about?
 
One girl chewing gum turned to him and said, "Who is the gazoonie?" , and Del panicked. Was he being asked a question to answer? Was a gazoonie some name, or an object, or was she asking him about someone else?
 
Red said, " I think he's a Backyard Boy, unless he screws the carny".
 
The girl eyed Del and said, " You a gazoonie kid?" and Del was paralyzed. Am I? Could I be a gazoonie? Is that good or bad or-
 
"Hey Red tell us a jackpot", said the girl taking a swig from the bottle of wine and then handing it to Del who took a swig and decided the thing to do was pass the bottle on. Del had already been told not to ask anyone their names, or where they were from, or anything else for that matter. So he'd met Chuckles, Baby Doll, Red and Happy earlier. He was the only one, he realized,  actually going by his real name.
 
Red had taken him under his wing, which was great because he could skip the hard work of setting up and breaking down the show. He was going to work as talent in the carny! Running away from home to join the carny was looking like a smart move. Red had been with the carny 20 years and seemed like a great guy. Red's hands were wrinkled, his hair had parted leaving a bald spot on top, but he still slicked down the sides, for the ladies.
 
Red puffed on his cigar and let the smoke escape from his mouth. " I saw her while I was working the A & S." he noticed Del looked surprised. "That's age and scale kid, you guess the marks age and weight. Always undercut the girls age and she'll still say you're right" he laughed as the carny folk laughed along.
 
"She wore a yellow dress".
 
The room suddenly went quiet. Herc, the strongman, visibly let his shoulders drop, and he stared ahead into some unknown void. The others waited, hanging on every word.
 
What the hell is the big deal about a yellow dress Del wondered.
 
 
" I guess she was a size 2. Every wallet on the grounds was staring at her, even the family men. Her dress clung to her body. Her skin was like cream and the dress length stopped at the knees so you could see her legs. She had it all. I saw the dress, I saw the color, but I couldn't take my eyes off her. Her red hair touched her shoulders and she wore a matching yellow hat. The yellow color was there, but I couldn't not talk to her.
 
" So I walked up to her, and offered to show her around". Red took a drag on the gar, and watched the smoke go into the air. No one said a word.
 
"Her voice was sexy, a raspy voice like Lauren Bacall and all of a sudden I hear a talker yell out to me so I yell back, With it and he stops and we walk on". Del thought, 'with it'- that must mean he's with the carny so don't waste your spiel. Your talk.
 
" It was the last night and I had no time to wine and dine, so I told her I'd like to kiss her and she said ok and I kissed her and as I did I felt a hand on my shoulder. I stopped and turned around and here was a big truck driver of a guy, all muscle looking me square in the eyes.
 
"He asked me what I was doing with his wife".
 
Red took a draw from his gar and looked around the spellbound room.
 
Chuckles, who never chuckled or laughed as far as Del could tell leaned in, "What you do Red?" he almost whispered.
 
" I had to think fast. I liked my teeth in my mouth, so I started talking the talk. I told him I was sorry, I didn't know and didn't notice her ring. His hand clamped down on my shoulder. It was starting to hurt. So I says, I think you two have a great act!" Red said with a smile.
 
"This big galoot of a guy released his grip. What act he asked? I told him we needed a Key Girl. He asked what that was.
 
"I said we needed a girl to tell guys she would sleep with them but they have to buy a key from me, and the last night we are here they can go to the local hotel and sleep with her. He grabs my shoulder again and asks me what kind of girl do I think she is and I quickly tell him she won't be there because we leave the town after the last show. These guys show up to an empty room. We give the hotel guy juice before we leave to humor all the guys when they show up to an empty room! The three of us split the dough.
 
"Now if the guy is a mark with a lotta dough and married we have the guy show up and the girl is there. But you come running in see, and threaten the guy. Unless he pays you some dough, you are calling the papers or his wife or whatever works. So this big galoot starts smiling  at me. I can tell he likes the idea. So he looks up at me and says, Sounds ok. By the way, she's really my sister!" and Red starts laughing and everyone starts laughing except Chuckles who smiles for the first time and even Del starts laughing though he isn't sure why.
 
" He screwed the carny after two months and left with all our dough, so she and me we started doing the key girl routine ourselves. Tonight is the anniversary of when we met, stand up baby".
 
Everyone oooed and awed as she rose, more of a size 8 now than a 2 but her face was beet red from the story and she ran over and hugged Red.
 
Red just smiled with the gar in his hand. "I told you I'd always remember baby doll."
 
Happy held up the bottle of wine "That's the first yellow story I ever heard with a happy ending! Cheers!", and he took a swig and passed it on as everyone congratulated Red and Baby Doll. The bottle passed to Del and he started to pass it on but Red looked over to him and said, "Hey kid, take a swig. No work tonight, and tomorrow is your first day of school. So lets break out more bottles and drink up!" and Del took a sip and thought to himself, "I have found home".

Posted at 11:54 am by Psychomike
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Friday, April 27, 2007
Del's First Speed

FIRST SPEED
 
Del woke up to the sound of the carny. Hammers and nails, shouts and hollers, laughs and jeers. Del tried to open his eyes but couldn't, tried to sit up but fell back. Where was he? One eye peeked open to see a tent. He was in a tent but how did he get here? Red poked his head through the tent and hollered, "Get up! Work to do!", and Del tried sitting up.
 
His head throbbed from the wine and the light in the tent wasn't helping.
 
"Here, take these", said Red handing Del a handful of pills.
 
Del looked at his hand and saw about 15 pills, "All of 'em? I don't think I can hold them down".
 
Red laughed, "Just take 2 to start with. You'll be wide awake in minutes. Then take 1 every time you start to feel run down".
 
"But when they hired me", Del protested, " they said I was talent. I wouldn't have to do any work".
 
Red laughed. "We all do everything around here kid, they were just having fun with ya. We got three beans in this burg so those pills will carry ya through".
 
"Beans? What do you mean by beans?, asked Del, still fumbling to get up.
 
Red stepped into the tent, " A bean is a job that lasts around 20 hours kid. We got three long days ahead of us. I forgot you don't know our lingo".
 
Del sat up squinting. "I had no idea what you were all talking about last night".
 
"I'll give you the kayfabe kid, just ask", Red said.
 
"Ok, what's a kayfabe?", Del started, trying to get his mouth and lips wet.
 
"Kayfabe is the straight dope, so what'd you wanna know?", said Red trying to be mindful of Del's hangover, "Let me get you some water for those pills".
 
Del sat up and noticed his suitcase next to him. He was on a pile of clothes with a lone blanket on top of him. The clothes were his. He put on his underwear and pants as Red entered, "Here's some water. Those pills will help you today".
 
Del placed the pills on his suitcase and took two of them. The water instantly refreshed him. It was the first time he ever had speed.
 
"So, when do I learn to bark?", Del asked.
 
"Why? Are you a damn dog?", asked Red.
 
"I thought I was to be a barker", Del protested.
 
Red looked at him sternly, " We don't use that term around here cause we ain't dogs. Talker. You're gonna be a talker".
 
Talker. That sounded good to Del.
 
Red burst into his chatter, " Ladies and gentlemen, no geeks or freaks on our walk this is wonderful family fare, and you military men will want to visit our internationally renowned hootchie cootchie show- sorry, no ladies or children allowed!".
 
"No geeks?", asked Del.
 
" A geek is someone who'll eat anything. Nails, live chickens, anything gross. A freak is someone deformed or born weird who sits and lets people look at them. Our con is the games and the girlie show", said Red, "the girls come and go but we can usually find a lot lizard working between the stands to take their place".
 
" A lot lizard?", asked Del.
 
"A hooker. We find them at every show", Red replied. Del tossed on his T-Shirt and started to get ready. He wondered when the pills would take effect.
 
For those who don't know, this is what speed feels like:  http://youtube.com/watch?v=Ut1kGmOhzWQ 

Posted at 12:58 pm by Psychomike
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Friday, May 04, 2007
My First Trip

 
I joined the Atlanta Science Fiction and Fantasy Organization as the youngest member at 10. I lied about my age, and still don't know if they believed me, but that would begin a lifetime of lying about my age. I had discovered FAMOUS MONSTERS OF FILMLAND magazine edited by Forrest J. Ackerman and suddenly began learning the background to the films I loved so much. BRIDE OF FRANKENSTEIN, THE WOLFMAN, DRACULA, THE WEREWOLF OF LONDON, DRACULA, had been shown on our Atlanta horror movie show hosted by Bestoink Dooley.
 
I waited for my parents to fall asleep and would sneak downstairs to watch the late night Friday horror film. Bestoink would appear often during the news broadcast, interrupting the weather to promote the film that night. He would joke, kid and ad lib and I would try to keep from laughing out loud. But I wanted more, and had heard about ASFO somehow and decided I had to go to a meeting. Maybe I would find people like me that liked the old horror movies.
 
I also loved comic books, DR. STRANGE, MAD MAGAZINE, SPIDER-MAN, THE FANTASTIC FOUR. I heard they were into comic books, too.
 
In those days there weren't enough comic book collectors to have their own group, so ASFO consisted of comic book fans, science fiction fans and movie fans. My first meeting I would meet Mensa member Joe Celko, with his owl like glasses and already balding head, Gordon Flagg whom I would come to know off and on for over 40 years, and there was no one remotely near my age. Yet they believed me when I lied about my age, and I began to be introduced to science fiction authors in a cross pollination that I guess doesn't happen anymore.
 
Superman #1 reached $100 in value and no one, and I mean no one ever thought it would get much higher than that. The used book stores and junk shops that had stacks of old comic books for dirt cheap were the place to find old titles like TALES FROM THE CRYPT and WEIRD SCIENCE for next to nothing. There really weren't comic book stores then, and none of the shop owners had any idea the collectors had already figured out they were going up in value.
 
So if a comic book dealer ever nailed you on a deal- rest assured knowing that for several years we made out like bandits scooping up titles worth loads of money for next to nothing from shop owners.
 
I had so much fun at ASFO because it was the first time adults had talked to me as an equal. And I kept up with them. Joe told me about Lovecraft, I went out and read Lovecraft before the next meeting. There were many science fiction monthly magazines then too, available at drug stores with writers like Arthur C. Clarke, Ray Bradbury, Robert Heinlein and many more. I absorbed these stories like a sponge, and when I discovered that before TV radio had shows like X MINUS 1 with the same writers adapted for radio plays, I began searching out reel to reel copies.
 
My search for exciting things to read, however, would lead me to magazines that in many ways would change my life. The first was called EVERGREEN REVIEW.
 
 
Evergreen Review had something I hadn't run into in a magazine before. Coolness. Most people who saw us reading science fiction or comic books thought we were nerds, but this magazine scared people, especially in the south. Art, counter culture, sex, all in a seemingly subversive context so the Southern Baptists kept the magazine off most magazine racks. Everytime I found one I would forego my comic books and science fiction magazines and buy it. Hiding it under the bed to read late at night with a flashlight under my sheets.
 
This would lead to Avant Guarde Magazine, which my mom would have had a stroke if she had found out I was reading it. It was about art, and a brand new blossoming culture.
 
 
But this was not southern culture. My mom had been in the Navy when she met my dad, also in the Navy, and I don't think they would have cared for the message in the magazine. My mother was southern Irish, my father was Mexican. I would not find out until years later that when they married it was against the law for different races to marry. Then I realized why the south allowed it. I LOVE LUCY was America's hit show, and southerners had decided Desi Arnez was alright, and Lucy did love him. The law hadn't changed. But people watching TV had. 
 
My mom had since remarried, but the stepdad was also strict. Up until then kids liked the music, films and movies of their parents. While they read LOOK however, I was reading AVANT GUARDE, throwing the issues away as I finished them.
 
I ran into an article on the Marquis de Sade, arguing that his work was art. Who was the Marquis de Sade? I had to find out.
 
I walked over to the Peachtree Mall and entered the bookstore. Keep in mind, I was just a kid.
 
As my small hand opened the door I marched right up to the bookstore clerk and requested "any book by the Marquis de Sade". The bookstore owner looked stunned.
 
" What do you want to read that for, kid?", he asked sizing me up.
 
"School", was my reply.
 
He wasn't buying that one.
 
"What school?", he asked looking down at me.
 
"Catholic School!", was my quick response.
 
He rolled his eyes, came from around the desk and got me a book. You could tell I had just confirmed everything this Southern Baptist had heard about Catholics!
 
 
Justine I saw on the cover, and I paid for it and ran home to read it.
 
That night, under the covers, I began to read.
 
"Form flecked his lips as he spoke these words interspersed with revolting oaths and blasphemies. The hand, which had been prying open the shrine he seemed to want to attack, now strayed over all the adjacent parts; he scratched them, he did as much to my breast, he clawed me so badly I was not to get over the pain for a forthnight. Next, he placed me on the edge of the couch, rubbed alcohol upon that mossy tonsure with which Nature ornaments the altar wherein our species finds regeneration; he set it afire and burned it. His fingers closed upon the fleshy protuberance which surmounts this same altar, he snatched at it and scraped roughly, then he inserted his fingers within and his nails ripped the membrane which lines it. Losing all control over himself, he told me that, since he had me in his lair, I might just as well not leave it, for that would spare him the nuisance of bringing me back down again; I fell to my knees and dared remind him again of what I had done in his behalf.... I observed I but further excited him by harping again upon the rights to his pity I fancies were mine; he told me to be silent, bringing up his knee and giving me a tremendous blow in the pit of the stomach which sent me sprawling on the flagstones. He seize a handful of my hair and jerked me erect. "Very well!" he said, "come now! prepare yourself; it is a certainty, I am going to kill you...."
 
I have no idea how much of this I understood, but I couldn't put it down. I carefully placed the book under the bed and went to sleep. When I awoke it was time to go to school. There was no one I could to about this book. But I couldn't wait to get back to it and see how really strange it was getting.
 
That night I went to bed, and when I heard my parents do the same got up to grab it and my flashlight and head for under the covers.
 
I took the flashlight and shown it under the bed..
 
OH NO
 
OH GOD NO
 
THE BOOK WAS GONE!
 
It couldn't be. It had to be there. It wasn't.
 
Two weeks passed, but no one had mentioned it. Did my younger brother find it? Naw, he would have ratted on me. So, what happened to the book?
 
Two weeks later my mom approached me when stepdad wasn't around.
 
"I found that book under your bed", she said.
 
OH NO HERE IT COMES.
 
"And it was the filthiest book I ever read twice in my life. Don't bring books like that home". That was it. It was never mentioned again.
 
Vietnam was starting to creep into the culture and magazines reflected this.
 
 
But there was also in city after city a local printing movement that was beginning, too. Underground newspapers. They weren't speculating on the war, if it was right or wrong. These papers took a stand- against. Atlanta had the Great Speckled Bird.
 
 
That wasn't allowed in the house either, so I would have to read them and give them back to the seller so they could resell them. Learning to collect comic books had taught me to read without wearing out them out, so the next person to buy it never knew, and the hippie was glad to get an extra copy to sell.
 
The more I read, the more I watched the news, the more I started to hear about something else.
 
LSD.
 
 
The negative thing I heard was that it offered a roller coaster ride into an alternative reality.
 
This definition was not the kind to use to convince someone not to take the drug. Somehow I had to get some, but how?
 
There was one kid in my school that had been rumored to have smoked pot, so I decided to ask him.
 
I was ready. I had read interviews and articles, knew not to take it without planning my trip first with fruits and wine and records, or if I was depressed. And I needed a guide the first time, someone with experience to help out as the trip progressed.
 
I wasn't just a kid taking dope. I was a nerd who had studied it before I tried it.
 
This scene from my play THE ACID TEST 1966 that I did with music by Mark Mothersbaugh from Devo and the guitarist from Steely Dan years later recreates what happened next. When you see the name Randy, that's me as a kid, trying to find cool. And acid.
 

                                                 RADIO ANNOUNCER

 

President Johnson led a prayer for the astronaughts who died on the launch pad of the  Apollo Test rocket killing  Chaffe, Grissom and White.

 

300 of the flower people held a love in at the park cheering when a half dozen men burned their draft cards to protest the draft.

 

Speaking of the long haired freaky people, I saw a hippie in the Piggly Wiggly saying, "Hey man, I

 

got these banana peels- can I get a refill?" (drum roll) What talks like Tarzan, walks like Jane and

 

smells like Cheetah? A hippie! Now here's the latest from Gary Lewis and The Playboys THIS

 

DIAMOND RING or, now that our engagement is cancelled, can I get my ring back? (sound of

 

horn) It's another WQXI hot time with Dr. Don Rose!

 

                                                WILD BILL

 

Wow man Apollo is broken.

 

                                                RANDY

 

Apollo? Oh you mean the rocket. That was awful.

 

 

                                                WILD BILL

 

Well I mean that, but I mean the age. Apollo.

 

                                                RANDY

 

I'm sorry. I'm not following you.

 

                                                WILD BILL

 

Every age has to choose, dig, between Apollo who was this cat that was all about knowledge and

 

order and rules. And the Dionysian path. Total party until you die live every second anything goes

 

everything is permitted! And Apollo is broke. So that leaves-

 

                                                RANDY

 

 

Umm. This party?

 

                                                WILD BILL

 

 

Groovy man you dig.

 

 

                                                RANDY

 

I'm not sure.

 

                                                WILD BILL

 

You can't close us down man because we have to celebrate this new age. It's part of our religion.

 

                                                RANDY

 

I'm here for the party. I'm not here to stop it.

 

                                                WILD BILL

 

Far out man!

 

                                                RANDY

 

Why did you think I'd shut you down?

 

                                                WILD BILL

 

Because you came in wearing a tie and brown shoes man. I thought you were the man.

 

                                                RANDY

 

Ok. This is the part I'm confused by. Which man did you think I was?

 

                                                WILD BILL

 

You don't dig?

 

                                                RANDY

 

Do you mean digging a hole?

 

                                                WILD BILL

 

Dig, the man can be the man who sells you your stash, or he can be the man who busts you for

 

buying from the man. Dig just means understand, dig?

 

                                                RANDY

 

Ok. I dig.

 

                                                WILD BILL

 

That's groovy man! You got it.

 

                                                RANDY

 

This is never going to work.

 

 

                                                WILD BILL

 

What isn't going to work?

 

                                                RANDY

 

Me being here. I got this flyer at the beach about an acid test here so I thought I'd drop by.

 

But now I have to learn a new language and I'm not dressed for this and-

 

                                                WILD BILL

 

Whoa, whoa right there partner.  Ok, what can we do for you? Let me see.

 

                                                RANDY

 

Maybe I should leave before women get here.

 

                                                WILD BILL

 

The tie has to go.

 

                                                RANDY

 

I can't lose the tie. My mom gave it to me and-

 

                                                WILD BILL

 

Ok, ok we won't lose it. Tie it around your head.

 

                                                RANDY

 

My head?

 

                                                WILD BILL

 

Well its better than around your neck. The brown shoes and socks have to go.

 

                                                RANDY

 

 

But I don't have any other shoes with me and-

 

                                                WILD BILL

 

Barefoot is cool man.

 

                                                RANDY

 

Really? Let me try it.

 

                                                WILD BILL

 

You can't do any worse. There you go.

 

 

                                                RANDY

 

I don't look silly do I?

 

                                                WILD BILL

 

Well, maybe. But not as silly as before. There you go man. You're on your way to groovy. I have

 

some jeans that'll fit you. You'll find chicks to ball tonight dude. The vibes are right.

 

                                                RANDY

 

Ball?

 

                                                WILD BILL

 

Yeah man. You know. Screw.

 

                                                RANDY

 

Make love?

 

                                                WILD BILL

 

Whew, at least you dig that.

 

                                                RANDY

 

I dig. Man. Wow, I said it.

 

                                                WILD BILL

 

You're happening!

 

                                                RANDY

 

I am? Where?

 

                                                WILD BILL

 

Man you are blowing my mind. What are you talking about?

 

                                                RANDY

 

Which part of me is happening?

 

 

Posted at 02:37 am by Psychomike
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my first trip part 2

my first trip part 2

WILD BILL

 

That just means you’re cool.

 

                                                RANDY

 

I’m cool?

 

 

 

                                                WILD BILL

 

No. Not really.

 

                                                RANDY

 

Oh.

 

                                                WILD BILL

 

But you’re on the way. Don’t stare but here comes Mona. Ok. Don’t stare.

 

                                                RANDY

 

Stare at what? Oh, I see. She’s not wearing a bra under that top!

 

                                                WILD BILL

 

Shhhh. Be cool – hey what is your name?

 

                                                RANDY

 

Randall. Randall Craig. Randy.

 

                                                WILD BILL

 

I’m not calling you Randy. You need a new name.

 

 

I had never had a joint in my life. Or been drunk. Or even smoked a cig. But I was ready for a new reality. And I needed to learn this new language.

 

 
 

Posted at 02:54 am by Psychomike
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Thursday, May 10, 2007
Childhood's End

 
A STORY FOR MOTHER'S DAY
 
Patti could hardly believe what her mom was telling her.
 
It had been a year since her mom had done her nails the first time, showed her how to put on her make-up and dropped her off for her first john.
 
Happy 12th birthday.
 
Now this.
 
"Honey, if we tie your tubes, you won't have to go to school anymore! You can fuck the wallets, and tell them to come inside. Tell them you're safe. Two weeks later, I call them and tell them you're pregnant! They'll pay us a lot of money! And you won't have to see them again. What do you say?" asked Mother.
 
Patti hadn't actually ever seen a dime of the money her mom pocketed.
 
"Mom I don't want to go to a hospital", she barely whispered, " and shouldn't I get some of the money-".
 
Mother turned red with rage.
 
"How fucking dare you! Do you have any idea what it costs to keep a roof over our heads! Food on your plate! To buy you those sexy clothes! I'M YOUR MOTHER AND YOU KNOW YOU SHOULD DO WHAT MOTHER TELLS YOU TO!" she screamed, well thought Patti, that's what they tell me in school but......
 
"You want money? Then get your tubes tied!" Mother railed.
 
When an entire society tells you to obey your parents, it's kind of hard not to.
 
"Now go to your room and don't come out until you have an answer", Mother ordered.
 
So off little Patti went. But her head was swarming with ideas and fears- and she did not want to go to a doctor.
 
She went into her room and thought about the hospital and was afraid. Very afraid.
 
So she decided to wait until mom was asleep, steal money out of her purse, and leave. She had to think. She had to do something.
 
And she did. She didn't pack a bag. She took the money and ran.
 
The money got her to Minneapolis, but she had nowhere to go. Nowhere to sleep. No food. She looked up and saw the sign.
 
MAGIC FINGERS MASSAGE PARLOR.
 
She knew she could do that.
 
She walked in and saw a giant man, maybe 300 pounds sitting behind the desk bored.
 
"Whaddayawant kid?", he mumbled.
 
Patti looked at the blue tattoos on his arms in awe.
 
"I said, whaddayawant?" barking this time.
 
"A job", she said, I need a job".
 
"How old are ya kid?" he said while looking up her and down.
 
"Seventeen" she lied.
 
"Hot damn!", he said. "We lost a 17 year old last week, we need a new one. Hold on" he said as he walked to the door behind him and opened it, "Hey Maggie, come here. Just a second kid", he said to her.
 
"Yeah, whaddayawant?", said the woman who came out, dressed only in a see through sheer robe.
 
"New kid. Show her the ropes.", he barked.
 
"How old is she?", Madge asked.
 
Patti stepped up, "I'm seventeen and I want a job".
 
"Ok, ok. Come on, I'll show you the place" said Madge. "I'm Madge", she said, holding her hand out to shake.
 
Patti grabbed it and tried to shake it like an adult. " I'm Patti. Patti Poetete.
 
Madge squinted, "Is that an Indian name?" she asked.
 
"Yes my dad was Indian. That's what my mom told me anyway", she walked to the back through the door, " I never met him".
 
"This is the room we change in", said Madge, " go in there and put on a robe."
 
Patti walked in and picked out a black sheer robe and put it on.
 
"Honey", laughed Madge, "You have to take your clothes off then put it on".
 
So she did.
 
"Great, the wallets like girls who look young and fresh" eyeing her.
 
"Is this your first time?", she asked Patti.
 
"Yes, not having sex, but working in a massage parlor", she said.
 
"We had a guy that came here for rim jobs from the last 17 year old, so he'll be happy to see you!", Madge said.
 
Patti thought to herself, "What's a rim job?" but said, "Oh yeah I can handle it!".
 
" You new in town?", Madge asked.
 
"Just got off the bus. I haven't found a place yet and-" Madge interrupted her. "You can sleep on my couch until you find a place".
 
Patti was starting to feel happy.
 
She heard the door open behind her, "Hey kid, your first customer!".
 
Madge showed her an empty room with the a table in it. "Charge him $25 for a tug, 50 for full on, extra for extras".
 
Patti panicked. "What's a tug?", she asked.
 
"A hand job honey. Full on is sex." Madge explained. "The boss takes his cut at the door. It's all yours".
 
When he left, Patti sat on the table looking at the $50. It was hers.
 
But she hurt. She hurt bad.
 
"How'd it go", asked Madge peeking into the room.
 
"Great. But my butt really hurts" she said.
 
"He spank you?", Madge asked.
 
"No, he did something called sodomy and...." Patti didn't get to finish what she was saying.
 
Madge yelled out, " Hey girls come here!", and started to laugh.
 
Three girls entered. "This is the new girl Patti, she just did anal for $50! She didn't know what sodomy was!" and the girls all began to laugh.
 
One girl spoke up, "Honey, that's an extra 50!".
 
They all, including Patti, laughed.
 
For a week she crashed on Madge's couch, and under a sofa cushion, she had more money than she had ever seen before. $950.
 
Madge and Patti drove to work, and saw a dozen police cars around the parlor. Patti froze. Madge grabbed her hand and went back to the car.
 
"Let's get out of here" she said to Patti as they headed back to the car.
 
Patti was frozen with fear. She had just realized, she feared cops and jail more than a hospital.
 
That night, she took her money and went to the bus terminal. She didn't say goodbye to Madge, she didn't know how. She wanted to, but didn't want to answer too many questions.
 
She called Mother from the bus station.
 
"Hello", asked Mother.
 
"It's me, Patti", she almost started to cry.
 
"Do you know how much money you have cost me this week?", her Mother said barely stifling a scream.
 
"I want to come home. I'll get the operation", Patti said. "I don't like school anyway".
 
Mother's voice suddenly grew warm. "Honey, you know I love you. We are family, and families stick together no matter what. Blood is thicker than water!" she said in an upbeat tone.
 
"Mom, I want some of the money" Patti said, barely believing her words as she said them.
 
There was a long silence.
 
"Ok Patti, you get 20% of the money" she said.
 
"I want 50%", said Patti.
 
There was an even longer silence.
 
"If you get your tubes tied I'll give you 50% of the johns money, but I get the payoff money" her Mother said.
 
"Ok", Patti said. "But mom, what are tubes?" she asked, as the bus to Chicago pulled into the station.
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 

Posted at 09:53 pm by Psychomike
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Thursday, May 17, 2007
Del Wants To Talk

 

CARNY TALKER 101
 
Del was in the grips of his speed high, " Likethewayiseeitiknowicouldbeagreattalkerredand-" , Red stepped up, "Kid, kid slow down I can't hear a word you're saying. Easy, easy. Ya gotta know the kayfabe kid. If you're lucky, maybe you can be a talker by the time we leave here. In three days? I wouldn't bet on it though kid. Took me a couple of weeks."
 
" Look, what do I need to know? What does a talker do?", Del asked, sitting down on the stack of boxes they had unloaded.
 
Red drew out his pipe, pulled the paper balled up in the bowl out and started the ritual to light the pipe. Drawing slowly on it. Easy, until the smoke coming from the bowl moved continuously into puffs in the air.
 
"A talker in the carny ain't just a barker for a show, he's the heartbeat of the carny. He bails out a pal in need, he can stop a fight or get us through a town without a payoff so high we'll still be paid. He can't be the center of attention but if he isn't directing traffic, we're cooked kid. Still want to be a talker?", Red looked direct into Del's eyes.
 
"Yes. Yes, I want to be a talker. How do I start?", Del asked, " how do I study for this?".
 
Red took a puff off the gar, " You can't learn any one way kid. It's the moment, ya see. Let's say the emby has a B.R. but his pal is a sharpie-"
 
"What", Del interrupted, " is an emby?".
 
"An emby is dumb enough to come back and lose over and over.", said Red with the pipe stem in the side of his mouth, " the lifeblood of a carny. Maybe he loves a girl, or a game. But his pal, see, is a sharpie. Maybe he worked at a carny or he knows someone that did, and he knows the real game. You get called over by the Agent, the guy running a game. You have to be aware of every moment. Every move. Every object around all of you. If the agent says Hi, B.C. that means BE COOL. This is a bad situation. So you B.C. and see how the two guys respond. Friendly, but more aware than you have ever been in your life. A B.R. is a bank roll, the wallet, the customer.
 
To cool everyone out maybe you say to the Agent, "What happened here?", but there's something you know that the B.R.  doesn't.
 
You know how you will respond when the Agent does.
 
"I do?", asked Del, puzzled.
 
Red took another drag from the pipe, and let the smoke slowly leave his mouth.
 
"Yep. You agree. Ya hafta to agree with ANYTHING and EVERYTHING the Agent says. You can't ask him another question, you can't shift the burden on him. You are adding to whatever he says happened. You are pushing the story, not just accepting it. You are gotta watch your partners back.
 
"You can't just squeeze one of your ideas in, kid. You have to make your story so real a sharpie would buy it. You have to know how to use silence to create tension, noise as a diversion, a pretty girl for agreement and to be prepared for anything. Be alert, or you and the agent could get your asses kicked. You treat the B.R. stupid and he'll pick up in it right away. Ya gotta know every angle to be a talker.
 
"I've seen guys working here 86'd for not knowing how to spot patterns in the way people talk. Maybe they reveal they have a kid and you can give them a doll to make the problems go away. Or maybe it's his dame and he has to show off, got me? You have to know the patter of the fortune teller and the girls selling their keys.  
 
"86'd is booted off. I don't want you booted off. Or left in some hospital. So let's take this one step at a time", Red said " first off at lunch go over to the hootchie cootchie show and listen to L.C. He's the best talker we got".
 
Del looked over to the dancers tent and saw the prettiest girl he thought he had ever seen walk inside. Hard to say, she was a ways away, with make -up, Del had to squint. But he knew.
 
That tent was full of women!
 
Carny women. Strippers. Hookers. Women on the road like him.
 
Except they had done it.
Women.

Posted at 10:35 am by Psychomike
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