A red chief, a desert queen: movies

Introducing the anthology segments in O. HENRY’S FULL HOUSE (1952), John Steinbeck assures us that O. Henry is a great American author, one of the bedrocks of our country’s literature. Which is ironic because watching, I realized how much Henry is known — for Gift of the Magi if nothing else — rather than read (I might have read The Cop and the Anthem but that’s it). And these stories didn’t make me feel I was missing anything.

It’s not that the stories are bad, they’re just not particularly memorable, even with a solid cast performing them. Charles Laughton as a tramp hoping to get thrown in jail for Christmas. Richard Widmark as a tough guy cashing in on an old debt. A young, in love couple sacrificing their most precious possessions to buy each other a Christmas gift (but watching now, I realize the ending is unbalanced — her hair will grow back, he may never recover his fine ancestral watch). Kidnappers Fred Allen and Oscar Levant paying the parents to take back the nightmare child they kidnap in Ransom of Red Chief. There’s something about them that screaams “old fashioned” and not in a nostalgic, charming way.

Howard Hawks directs the Red Chief segment competently but I wouldn’t have suffered if this wasn’t available online.


TYG is a big fan of PRISCILLA, QUEEN OF THE DESERT (1994) and I like it too, so we went to rewatch it at the Carolina Theater (first big-screen viewing for both of us). A good, quirky Aussie comedy as drag queen Hugo Weaving recruits aging transwoman Terence Stamp and flamboyant queer Guy Pearce to come along on a road trip to Alice Springs to meet his ex-wife and their son. A solid character study with Stamp a standout as a world-weary soul (though TYG’s favorite was the Pearce role). “Assumption is the mother of all fuckups.”

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I didn’t think this would work …

Some time back I conceded the increasing demands of pet care were cutting into my time to the point working seven hour days made more sense than trying to put in eight hours. Though of course, they’re worth it.

The thing is, the last hour of the “work” day, from 4 to 5 PM, never seemed to work after that. I couldn’t quite relax but couldn’t think of anything that really filled the hour either. Well, this week I tried working all the way up to 5 … and strangely enough, that works better. I quit at 5 PM much more comfortably than at 4 PM — has the concept of “9 to 5” been that burned into me over the years? Still, I’m not complaining; getting more writing done is a good thing.

And I managed to get a lot done, even though Trixie got me up around midnight Sunday and Monday to go out and squirtle (worse, she didn’t quite make it outside). Fortunately whatever brought that on, it stopped after that.

I got some work on Savage Adventures done for the first time in a while, bringing the finished book almost up to 1939. My Local Reporter work included one story on Vimala’s Curryblossom Café, which is helping feed the victims of Tropical Storm Chantal, and a more general one on local recovery efforts. At Atomic Junk Shop I blogged about the start of Edgar Rice Burroughs’ Pellucidar series, then a second post on the rest of the series.

I got a lot of work done on Jekyll and Hyde. Rewriting some of the book (I need to become much more organized and systematic), reading the section on Jerry Lewis’ Nutty Professor to the writing group, and watching a couple of movies I only just stumbled across.

I’m almost done with watching the movies, though there’s a lot of TV to get through too. But given I have until the end of the year, I’m confident things will go smoothly barring some unforeseen catastrophe (and those are always possible). Fingers crossed.

Oh, and I’ve been remiss in posting about Con-Tinual online convention. I’m on a couple of panels about breaking writer’s block and one on best and worst comics adaptations.

Also one on Lovecraftian horror

— and superheroes and mutants. All of these will show up on Con-Tinual’s YouTube channel eventually.

Cover by Frank Frazetta. All rights to images remain with current holders.

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Shadows fall

And I like the way they looked as I walked Trixie one evening recently.

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Our elites fold like they’re paper-thin

I read a few arguments in the last century that having big, powerful media conglomerates was a good thing. They’d have deep pockets to stand up to lawsuits. They’d be able to stare down officious governments. They’d be strong enough to publish controversial books and deep, anti-government reporting.

As we’ve seen under the Felon, that was a pile of horse manure. Jeff Bezos, who has more money than the felon, refused to back a candidate last year, when the WaPo editorial board wanted Harris. The NYT and the WaPo are both happy to sanewash the Felon administration, along with other media outlets. One article earlier this year (I forget which company) described FOTUS “teasing” the acquisition of Greenland and Canada, as if it was all just so, so amusing and whimsical. It’s not, and if it was some other country — India threatening to take over Pakistan, say — they’d never phrase it like that.

We have an otherwise excellent piece on the Felon’s relationship with Jeffrey Epstein that phrases the issue as “what Mr. Trump’s long association with Mr. Epstein says about his judgment and character.” Or Variety saying David Ellison, whose Skydance Media may be taking over CBS, “has projected an image of being intrigued by the politics espoused by President Donald Trump.” Sounds like a careful way to avoid saying “right-wing dictatorship supporter.” (judging by this article, Ellison is indeed intrigued by the politics espoused by the Felon — will CBS be the new Fox News?).

I’ve heard some bloggers say it’s because the media can’t admit what a nightmare we’re in, but I don’t buy that. If Biden had started calling Canada our “cherished 51st state” they’d be describing him as either a warmonger or senile — but Biden isn’t going to hunt them down for hurting his fee-fees the way President Snowflake does.

Now we have CBS, settling a $16 million lawsuit over supposedly editing a Harris interview that the Felon thinks made her look smart — everyone has to say widdle baby Donny is the smartest widdle baby of all time! On top of that, they’ve fired Stephen Colbert for mocking the Felon, while insisting it has nothing to do with wanting approval of the Skydance deal. Oh, and Ellison may be talking about bringing right-wing hack Bari Weiss aboard in some news capacity (the Writers Guild wants CBS’ capitulation investigated as a bribery case).

This isn’t new. There was a story back in the 1990s about how one journalist had written a blockbuster book about the blood feud between the Lebanese-American families that ran Guess and Jordache jeans. It was going to be a big, big deal … then Paramount bought up the publisher. Paramount’s head at the time had married one of the women involved in the feuding; suddenly word came down to the publisher not to name her anywhere in the book. Publicity and promotion plans evaporated; the book tanked. The story I read said it’s not necessarily that Paramount’s CEO wanted it killed; it’s equally possible some underling worried about how he’d react. The result was the same either way.

(Sidebar: there are rumors Bezos wants to buy Conde Naste, which owns Vogue, because his wife would like him to own Vogue. This would also make him the owner of Wired, which has been doing blockbuster reporting on the current administration).

Theoretically the elites could do fine defying the Felon. They have money enough for the best security. They do indeed have the power and pockets to fight bullshit suits — hell, big corporations routinely spend millions of dollars a year on legal fees. But they’re risk-averse or in some cases opportunistic. The CBS merger, for instance. And Bezos wants the National Labor Relations Board, which oversees union elections, declared unconstitutional. And in some cases, they may be okay with what the Snowflake is doing. Sen. Thom Tillis, a multi-millionaire, has announced his retirement but he’s still voting a straight Republican ticket.

Business guru Harvey Mackay wrote once that if you think $10 million is enough, you will never have $10 million. The same thing is in play here. Billionaires could lose all but one billion and still have enough to live in luxury. But they can’t bear the thought — they’re like Smaug grieving for a missing bit of treasure. Only much less interesting.

And they have egos, as witness the bizarre story of Trumper Bill Ackman buying his way into a tennis tournament he’s not qualified for. Retiring and living comfortably may not suit them as much as getting bigger and bigger, more and more, and seeing an ever-widening gulf between them and their imagined inferiors.

Reagan’s foreign policy advisor Jeane Kilpatrick once argued that one of the reasons right-wing dictatorships were better than left-wing ones was that they kept everything calm and stable. The poor would get screwed over but they’re always getting screwed over; the rich and powerful would be fine as long as they respected who the new top dog was. She thought this was a good thing.

As we are seeing, it is not.

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The eyes of snowdrop are upon you!

I got up this morning and realized for the first time in years, I hadn’t scheduled a post already (sometimes they don’t load right, but they’re always scheduled). In lieu of anything thoughtful and intelligent, here are some photos of Snowdrop looking at you.

This space between the coffee table and the couch is his favorite bolt-hole.

Under the chair is another.

Here he’s watching Wisp. They seem to enjoy sitting together in the cat tower, but not on the same level.

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Jeffrey Epstein’s still dead, so why is the Felon losing his shit?

I have no idea what the outcome of the current Jeffrey Epstein furor will be. It’s the first time we’ve seen real opposition to the Felon from inside his cult. Not all of them: someone posted online that if the White Male Messiah fondled her children she’d still support him because he’s a great president! Which is horrifying, but also telling: rather than saying FOTUS would never do anything to a child, she’s getting out in front of the possibility he is.

I do hope she’s lying about being okay with it, but as Robert Altemeyer says, authoritarian followers are often willing to forgive their leaders’ crimes, even crimes that hurt them directly. And the Felon’s survived earlier sex scandals. Then again, it sometimes takes lots of accumulating sex scandals before the perp goes down. Time will tell.

According to the mainstream media — CNN, WaPo and NYT, specifically — the new scandal is a win for the Felon. MAGA’s uniting around him like never before! Source? Steve Bannon, who offers no evidence and has no influence other than his podcast. Just a few months ago, he was demanding Congress approve Matt Gaetz’ cabinet post and celebrate it … well, they didn’t and there was zero blowback. Taking Bannon seriously is crap journalism, whether it’s because they’re ready to move on or feel they have to bothsides it (they’ve reported outrage over the Epstein files, now they have to show there’s no outrage).

It’s a safe bet that the Felon is not as confident as Bannon, assuming Bannon’s not sweating about it off-camera (fellow jackass Ben Shapiro is obviously uncomfortable) because the crazy is gushing. The administration is shooting for distractions: bringing up the MLK assassination, talking about arresting Obama (which is alarming fascist stuff, I should note), and Sen. Ron Johnson claiming Biden tampered with the files (he doesn’t mention reports that the FBI were to flag anything in the files mentioning the Felon). Rep. Mike Johnson, that fine upstanding man of God, is blocking any House action on the matter until after August recess to give the Felon “space” to handle things. One of the Felon’s attorneys is meeting with Ghislaine Maxwell to work out some kind of deal. Nope, nothing suspicious there.

Maybe the Onion is right: before long the Felon will demand we not only get past Epstein but forget any objections to pedophilia. I wish I could laugh and say that was completely silly.

It may not be the Felon alone. Liberal Currents points out how many right-wingers are pedophiles and statutory rapists and argues it’s a logical outcome of their extreme patriarchal views. Women and kids are property. What their owner does with them is not to be judged by outsiders (religious leader James Dobson may not approve of spousal abuse but it’s the husband’s call).

I have no predictions for the outcome but I’m watching with great interest.

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Fun in the summer sun? Err …

The way the heat gets worse every year, the days when I thought relaxing outdoors in the summer was fun are gone. I don’t know they’ll ever come back. But I can still appreciate this Nick Cardy cover from 1970.

Contrary to the Love 1970 header, it’s a reprint volume where all but two stories date back to the 1950s. Though maybe with some redrawn art to make them look more contemporary, something DC did with other reprints such as Windy and Willy.

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The cramped American vision of JD Vance

As someone said a while back (I don’t have the link handy), J.D. Vance’s career has been built on carefully deciding who to sell out to and when. He has few limits on how badly he’ll sell out. Last year he said he wouldn’t have certified Biden’s win (admittedly the lie the election was stolen is now a baseline Republican belief).

After Tucker Carlson gave an admiring interview to a “Nazis were the good guys in WW II” Holocaust denier, Vance refused to back off from his ties with Carlson, while insisting Of Course he didn’t share the guest’s beliefs.

As a law student he expressed outrage over Republican anti-immigrant policies. As vice president, he happily lies about Haitian immigrants eating pets.

He hates universities because teaching facts and critical thinking is antithetical to Republican policy and makes it too easy for nonwhites and women to succeed in life (he phrases it somewhat differently)

(Side note: right-wing bullshit artist Bari Weiss recently claimed it’s impossible to get into college if you’re white or Asian, which is a complete lie. CBS, which just fired Colbert for daring to criticize the Felon, is now looking at giving Weiss a news position of some sort).

After the Wall Street Journal ran its story about the Felon’s letter to Jeffrey Epstein, Vance complained the White House never saw the letter … which completely contradicts his boss’s take (these are not coordinated, well-organized liars).

Then, at a recent speech to the far-right Claremont Institute, he expressed the view that Real Americans are the ones whose families have been here for generations: ““dentifying America just with agreeing with the principles, let’s say, of the Declaration of Independence — that’s a definition that is way over-inclusive and under-inclusive at the same time,:

Overinclusive because it would include “hundreds of millions, maybe billions of foreign citizens who agree” with the principles of the Declaration of Independence. That’s “the logic of America as a purely creedal nation.” Underinclusive because it would reject lots of extremists who presumably don’t believe in things like all men being created equal, “even though those very Americans had their ancestors fight in the Revolutionary War and the Civil War.”

This is some impressive strawman bullshit. Nobody claims that simply because someone in Bhutan or the United Kingdom (or wherever) agrees with the sentiments in the Declaration, they’re American citizens. The premise of America as a “creedal” nation is that if you want to be a citizen, your race, sex, national origin and religion don’t stand in the way of that. The old sentiments that if you play by the rules, you’re welcome here. Not as a tolerated immigrant, but as a fellow American. As noted at the link above about Vance’s speech, that used to be accepted even by a lot of conservatives (even if it wasn’t always how things played out in practice).

Vance’s alternative view is not new. As Richard Slotkin chronicles in Lost Battalions, immigrants, Jews and black Americans hoped fighting for their country in WW I would prove they were real Americans; instead the country veered into heavy anti-immigrant sentiment over the following decade. Former president Teddy Roosevelt said it flat out: to be a real American you have to be Anglo-Saxon. Everyone else is here on sufferance.

It’s a view (as Slotkin shows) impossible to separate from racism, anti-immigration and misogyny. As Kevin Levin says, “Notice that Vance makes no distinction between whether your ancestor fought for the United States or the Confederacy. He doesn’t care. What matters is that they were white and that they were here.

This would be the perfect time for the Confederate heritage community to trot out their stories about Black Confederates and their view of the Confederacy as a multi-racial/cultural experiment. Don’t hold your breadth, folks. Vance also doesn’t want you to remember the roughly 200,000 African Americans who fought for the United States during the Civil War. Just under 80 percent of free born African American men of military age in northern states volunteered to fight for the United States during the Civil War. In ignoring these men, Vance appears to believe that white men, who fought to destroy the United States and create an independent slaveholding republic, are more worthy of inclusion.”

I will also mention we know a number of women fought disguised as men; many women contributed to the war in various ways. Vance would rather we not think about that, either. He loves the pronatalist fiew that women should be breeders. Misogyny seems to be one of the few principles he truly believes in, even though that makes him a bad father. And it aligns well with the old view that white American women need to breed more babies for the Reich — er, the Republican Party, to the extent there’s a difference. More on that view here.

As I wrote five years back, women are not means to an end, whether that end be maintaining the white population or taking care of the kids for J.D. Vance. Women are ends in themselves; all people are. To the extent of their abilities they should be free to choose their own path (with obvious exclusions like becoming an assassin, a rapist, or a Klansman) and figure out what having a meaningful life means to them.

I suspect Vance, and the techbros who’ve supported him, don’t see it that way. That freedom is for the elites like them. Giving it to other people would imply others really are created equal … and the subtext of Vance’s views is that he doesn’t think they are.

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A liar, a spy, an artist: books I’ve been reading.

Oops — after reviewing the first six volumes in Edgar Rice Burroughs’ Pellucidar series, I never got around to writing up the final collection, Savage Pellucidar. Like a number of his later books, this was four interconnected novellas published separately; the fourth and final installment was lost until the 1960s when it turned up in Burroughs’ files. The results are much more entertaining than the previous volume, Back to the Stone Age.

(Cover by Frank Frazetta)

This has David Innes’ Empire of Pellucidar at war with the brutal tyrant Fash (I’m assuming a pun as these came out during WW II) but that’s merely a premise to get everyone scattered and running around for the usual adventures. What makes it stand out is that the women get a larger role than usual. Dian the Beautiful proves extremely capable in her solo adventure but the cheerful liar O-aa (“If you beat me, my five brothers will kill you — and I’ve killed more men than they have!”) steals pretty much the entire book (particularly when she’s enshrined as a Living Goddess and proves harder to handle than the priesthood expects). Heavier than usual in contemporary references; of course this was the era Burroughs would crack jokes in Tarzan books about Johnny Weismuller, but I had to google “Pegler and Mr. Brown” to make sense of it. Still a fun finish to the series.

Ever since reading A Spy Among Friends I’ve wanted to reread Tim Powers’ take on treacherous spy Kim Philby, Declare. As I belong to a “Genre Book Club” (everyone picks a book from a specific genre to discuss) and July’s genre was historical, that proved incentive enough.

Protagonist Andrew Hale draws MI6’s attention early in his life, for reasons he doesn’t quite understand (nor do we for a long time). We see him in WW II, working with and falling for Elena, a Spanish communist and loyal Soviet agent (this was back when the USSR was among the Allies fighting against the Axis); in 1948, before, during and after a disastrous mission to Mt. Ararat; and in 1963, as he goes to engineer a final confrontation with Philby, the most effective and damaging of several Soviet agents working in British intelligence.

After the opening in the nightmarish aftermath of the Ararat mission, the first third of the book is mundane with hints of something supernatural going on. Powers says in the afterword that he wanted to write a John LeCarré novel and it’s very much in the LeCarré vein: complicated missions, shifting loyalties, superiors who are often untrustworthy. Then Hale has his first encounter with the supernatural element — primarily described as djinn, but also as Nephilim — and lord, they are terrifying and awesome (in the “inspiring awe” sense). Things get more supernatural after that, though there’s still a lot of LeCarré.

The novel suffers a little on rereading. Now that I know more of Philby, I think the novel shortchanges his impressive spy career; Powers says he was more interested in the unexplained odds and ends of Philby’s life but I think more of the big picture would have helped. And Powers isn’t as good writing spy stuff as LeCarré (who is?) so I found some stretches a little draggy. But that was partly me: it was one of those weeks when our pets and their needs generate enough mental chaff I can’t focus on reading as much, and the book’s dense (I might have set it aside, if not for the book club). Still, one of Powers’ best.

ALTER EGO is Alex Segura’s sequel to Secret Identity, the story of lesbian Latina working at the mid-seventies Triumph Comics (probably modeled on Atlas Comics, which among other things produced Howard Chaykin’s The Scorpion, seen above with a Chaykin cover) and getting involved with murder over her creation, the Lynx.

In the present day, Triumph has been shuttered for 40 years. Annie, a Cuban-American comics creator turned film director, was thrilled as a kid to discover a Latina could make comics; with her movie career on hiatus, the son of Triumph’s founder invites her to join in the company’s revival by drawing a new Lynx series. Annie can’t resist, but once again death is lurking …

Segura does a great job capturing the feel of modern creative work in an environment where Annie’s latest film got shelved for a tax write-off and lots of executives look at art and story as just “intellectual property” they can monetize. Unfortunately the bad guys’ scheme (spoilers!) is too stupid for words: once Triumph starts publishing comics, they’ll make movies based on the comics and reap billions from the Triumph Cinematic Universe! Which will pay off the debts they’ve run up with the Russian mob! That’s certainly worth a murder or two, right?

Seriously? DC, which has the most recognizable superheroes on the face of the Earth, hasn’t been able to make a go of a cinematic universe; Universal’s Dark Universe crashed and burned, and their horror films are famous too. Using characters who haven’t been seen in 40 years is hardly a slam-dunk, even if the comics take off. Possibly Segura takes it as a given readers will get this but it doesn’t occur to Annie, even in her private thoughts.

There’s also the same problem I had with the Lynx in the previous book: nothing about it screams “classic comics.” Annie’s story for reviving the Lynx is close to Alan Moore’s revival of the British hero Marvelman and the more recent Sentry at Marvel (at least some takes on that character); that doesn’t mean it wouldn’t work but I’d think a comics nerd like her would be aware of this. And a comment about how the Lynx teaming up with her best friend’s ghost made her standout in the Bronze Age makes no sense: both DC and Marvel were big on supernatural stuff, with Spider-Man teaming up with Ghost Rider (as on the Gil Kane cover here), Batman with Spectre and so on. I don’t think I’ll be back if there’s another sequel.

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A night at the movies in 1935?

When I watched Captain Blood a couple of weeks back, I discovered my recorded-off-air DVD had the ending missing. No big deal — I’ve seen it enough times to remember how it turns out — but when I discovered my library had the authorized DVD I checked it out to catch the ending anyway.

I got a pleasant surprise: the special features included a “Warner Brothers Night at the Movies” designed to give viewers the feeling for what they might have seen if they’d caught Captain Blood in the theaters. Back in those days, as Leonard Maltin explains in the introduction, you got much more entertainment than just the film and the previews, though the collection does start out with a preview for Warner’s A Midsummer Night’s Dream (“James Cagney in the role of his career!”).

Then came the newsreel; back in the 1930s, this was the only way to see live news footage of current events. And if you think “if it bleeds, it leads” is new, this led off with Bruno Hauptmann being sentenced to death for kidnapping and killing Charles Lindbergh’s baby; Helena Montana has been hammered by an earthquake; “dust storms bury Kansas and Colorado farms” as the Dust Bowl grows; and beloved humorist Will Rogers dies in a plane crash. We also have FDR assuring America the US will continue staying out of European affairs. I notice this shows FDR standing at the podium, which seems to confirm what I’ve read about the White House making him look less disabled than he was.

Then comes a short, All-American Drawback, with ventriloquist Edgar Bergen and his dummy, Charley McCarthy. Bergen, playing a football coach, learns Charley’s going to be pulled from his starring role on the team unless he can raise his grades; while having Charley play sports seems like an odd premise for a film centered on a ventriloquist’s dummy, this was entertaining enough. “I think it’s a shame they piled on Charley like that — if they wanted the ball so bad, why didn’t they ask for it?”

Johnny Green and his Orchestra was a musical short in which a spontaneous jam session not only inspires Young Love but sets three local farmhands to dancing and singing some hillbilly music. TYG, catching this in passing, was much amused by how overdone the conductor’s baton movements were; I’m guessing they were exaggerated for the camera, much as sword fights require larger blade movements than a real fencing match.

The final entertainment was Billboard Frolics, a cartoon in which various billboard advertising characters come to life: a Cuban dancer on a travel poster, penguins on a cigarette ad and a chicken who then has to run from a real-life cat. As Maltin says, more cute and whimsical than the zany cartoons best remembered from the era.

All they needed was a movie serial chapter to finish it off.

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