Zombie Birdhouse’s blog

Oh! Kittens!

I am so happy that Project Runway 6 has finally made it to teevee! I tuned in for the premiere last week and all my worries about Lifetime ruining it vanished away!  Week 2 episode is tonight at 9pm CT. Join me in celebrating the return with an aural blast from the past...

 

Over the weekend I watched a DVD of a movie that was an integral part of my salad days, albeit a vaguely remembered one: Pufnstuf the Movie. I remembered very little about the movie. I sort of remembered the boat ride Jimmy took at the beginning of the movie and Mama Cass as Witch Hazel sitting in a bathtub of fruit, phone chatting with Witchiepoo. I also remembered Witchipoo's coven meeting. One of the pivotal moments of the film for me was Mama/Witch Hazel doing this song as an effort to win the Witch Of The Year Award. I file this one under things that contributed/influenced/encouraged my queer sensibilities.

Seeing this movie again decades later, was a very wistful yet pleasurable experience. Despite the horrible "psychedelic" edits and cuts; despite being able to see the wires that made the characters "fly;" despite being able to see all the costume seams and zippers; despite the not-so-special special effects: this movie is still magic. It also reaffirms the sadness of losing Mama Cass too early. A voice and a soul that is surely missed...

Once upon a time there was a little Boy who was really after all not so little. He lived happily, for the most part,  in a place some would call a desert, a place barren of culture and diversity. Art of any kind was hard to find. He found that he made himself happier by hanging around people who could make artful sights, sounds and thoughts. He also found a way to make himself happy by finding employment in a place that was for the most part highly pleasant and stimulating...if he ignored "certain" people. His job (if you could call it that) - perhaps we should say, "what he was paid to do..." Yes, that's better, what he was paid to do was to find, purchase and then systematically organize certain visually oriented products for the community in which he lived that would somehow enrich and elevate that community in some fashion or another, either intellectually or (for the most part) as entertainment.  Generally, this task was a routine one, very little lows and fewer peaks. Day in and day out, product was purchased, processed and consummed by the community, who usually silently absorbed what was offered with no feedback.  Then one day the Boy found a visually oriented product that seemed different.

He'd never seen or heard of any of the other folk assigned to other communities who did tasks similar to his, mention this new and intriguing product.  He consulted his magical oracle and sure enough there were a few other folk talking about this, but they were in far off places, far far from his humble midland home.  Surely these strange folk-from-the-far-far-off-distant-coastal-land's hyperbolic praise was not applicable for the folk in the community in which the Boy served. But the more he thought about the strange new product, the more intrigued he became and eventually he made his mind up to attempt to acquire a sample of this new and different visual product. 

Also, he knew that his Lovey was very interested in knitting, something that this new visual product reportedly used as a theme. So once the product arrived he wanted to share the new product with his Lovey right away. Once the Boy and his Lovey experienced the new visual product - both thought the product to be delightfully quixotic. The visual and cinematic art of the product astounded them. They loved that the product did not try to clumsily extrapolate action through over-ponderous dialogue; that the product let you figure things out by yourself. It reminded them of other products they enjoyed in the past by folks like Pierre Jeunet, Terry Gilliam and especially Tim Burton. But most of all they were stunned and awed by the visual atmosphere that was conjured by the product's new, very talented creator, Mai Tominaga.

Sometimes real people are the action, sometimes art and sometimes even dolls are used to propel the themes of Wool 100%.  Dialogue is sparse and economical, but when it is there, it reveals a careful and densely packed core of information. How it is delivered, is also important - in some scenes information that would be uncomfortable and destructive if delivered by humans, is instead voiced by dolls. This is most decidedly a feminine movie, in philosophy and reaction. All action centers around three women: two elderly junk-collecting Sisters who live an obsessive-retentive ritualized/fossilized life and a mysterious force of nature/ Feral Girl. Objects found, offer the only change in the Sisters' daily routine. One day  among the objects found are several balls of bright red yarn. Once taken home, cleaned and cataloged the balls mysteriously lead a Feral Girl to move into the Sister's house where she begins to knit a dress using the found yarn.  Upon completing the garment, Feral Girl wails in despair that she must begin again and proceeds to rip the garment and the staid routine of the Sisters apart. The cycle of creation/destruction began by Feral Girl, and thematically by the act of knitting, initiates both physical and psychological changes in the Sisters' lives. To expect mundane explanations of Feral Girl's behavior and the Sisters' acceptance of it would be like trying to assign logic to a dream. Some viewers will be frustrated by the lack of explanation or the hallucinatory meandering of the plot. Along with the use of toys and other art to propel the story, some may find the narrative to be too sentimental or full of perceived, cute sight gags. Others still may be annoyed with the Yin-like nature of the film and cry out for a bit of hard Yang. If they do, sadly, they miss the point of the whole exercise. Those viewers open to the idea of being a passive viewer and simply go with the flow of the film's own internal logic with be richly rewarded. Wool 100% is not just a visually stunning film but one that presents a new, unique and extremely creative narrative talent.  

The Boy and his Lovey were very happy with the visual product. The Boy even said it might even be the best new product he experienced for the whole year. Lovey didn't say much because he is not like the Boy and doesn't need to talk a lot, sound important, make hard thoughts, or lists to qualify things. Lovey just said it was very, very good and both he and the Boy were happy. The End.

When a long time friend really really pisses you off, what do you do?...for now, I choose to try and let it go...not say anything...play this song really loud...

many, many times... take the day off from work...drink this ...many many times and eat these...           ahhh, that's better now!

Ace Frehley - New York Groove - Hello

Back in 1978 I was a punk.  Before that I loved all sorts of music: my parents' Jazz and vocal reoords, Germanic classical opera, AM Light, heavier rock, roots country, R&B...

But once Punk and New Wave hit my ears I was hooked.  Unfortunately being a punker involved a lot of posing, attitude and creds.  It was quite limiting - in my circle of punk friends we all thought you couldn't possible have real punk cred and like Frank Sinatra, Ike & Tina Turner, the Rolling Stones, Johnny Cash, Wagner, K. C. and the Sunshine band or worse of all, the love-that-dare-not-speak-its-name: KISS.

Secretly, we all ran home and played albums by these people on a stereo with head phones tightly clamped to our ears or listened to their music quietly on the radio, and really, really liked their music. BUT we would never admit it to one another for fear of losing our punk creds. When the Kiss solo records came out, I was in a quandry - do I buy or not?  What if someone saw me buying them? What if the record store clerk told one of my friends that I had bought them? So I, being a little chicken-shit ass got my mom to brave the funky head-shop/record store in our area to buy all four Kiss solo albums for me. She brought them home in a plastic sack printed with all four solo albums on it. It was so beautiful - I couldn't wait. 

There was a lot of buzz about these album. In all the articles written in speculation about what they were going to be like, everyone thought that the Peter Criss album was going to be the best since Kiss had a big hit with Beth.  The general consensus was that Peter's would be the best, followed by Gene then Paul and last would be dopey Ace.

Even Cream magazine wrote a review before the albums even came out expressing this view.  No one expected anything from him and that sadened me because I thought Ace was the coolest of all the Kiss members. So once I get them from Mom (thanks), I go to my room and pop on the first one.  I choose Peter's album first. Boy was it crappy! I mean embarassingly so.  Hurm? Move on to Gene's...weird stuff Gene you have issues.  The usual misogynist crap on any Kiss record: "I'm great - women swoon at my ginormous mullet" sort of song and Disney covers?!?!?! SHEESH Next comes Paul - more sensative yet still misogynistic, sounds like a bunch of songs that were rejected from the last Kiss album. So far, these albums pretty much suck! So with trepidation I play Ace's solo album...and lo, it is pretty good...no it is downright great!  I like it a lot.  Then even more amazingly apparently so do a lot of other people. A song from Ace's album gets in to the charts, the foot-stomping New York Groove .  The song is a big surprise hit and gets to #5 on the charts. Not one song from any of the other's albums even gets close to breaking into the upper levels of the charts.

Later I find out that this song is a cover song of the late Glitter Era band, Hello. As good as Hello's original 1975 version is - I still love the Ace version.  It is one of those songs that brings back the specific place and time it came out of very vividly for me. Now that I don't have to worry about my Punk Creds any more I can admit I love Frank Sinatra, Wagner, the Stones, Disco and yes even Kiss, but especially Ace Frehley's solo album of 1978. Here's to ya Ace, "ACCKKK!"

Here is the latest mug added to my collection.  It hasn't even got here yet but I was so excited when I saw it and cannot wait for it to get here.  It is called the  "Bambooze" and was inspired by a painting bythe artist Thor, called

"Orbital Bliss."

 The mug itself is 7 inches high and can hold 22 ounces.  I think it is just a fabulous design. It incorporates several motifs that make for a great mug: 

 

 

·                       It is based upon a real tiki form - the Moai - and not some made up "fantasy" tiki;

·                       It has great, naturalistic colors;

·                       The surface of the mug is made to look like wood;

·                       The introduction of the "bamboo" and "cowry shell" elements is genius and adds an island/tropical feel to the mug;

·                       Looks like the mug can be gripped and not easily slide about your hand when holding a nice frosty beverage.

 

I just lurve it! It is going to make a great addition to the ol' Tiki Kuini’s kollexshun.

Can’t wait until it gets here. When it does, I think I will christen it with one of my favorites,

Long Island Iced Tea

Ingredients:

• 1 part Vodka
• 1 part Tequila
• 1 part Rum
• 1 part Gin
• 1 part Triple sec
• 1 1/2 part Sour mix
• 1 splash Coca-Cola

Mixing instructions:

Mix ingredients together over ice in a glass. Pour into shaker and give ONE brisk shake. Pour back into glass and make sure there is a touch of fizz at the top. Garnish with lemon.

Okolemaluna!

Sorry I've not posted in a while but I've been in a deep blue groove that was hard to shake until recently - know what blasted me out of it it? A holocaust-level measure of Indignant Fury that would be the envy of any smug self-righteous conservative thinking , red-state-livin', faggot-hating, gun-toting, keepin'-the-wife-pregnant, god- fearing white male.

Here is how it started mere hours ago: I'm in the back of the house,it's close to 1 AM, Joe is asleep, the TV in the front room has been left on and I've been too lazy to turn it off. Then I hear it  - one of my most cherished and identified-with songs - The Passenger by Iggy Pop.  I get up and move to the front of the house to see what's up with it being on my teevee.  I realize with a shudder that it is a commercial. Oh, it gets worse. It's not just a commercial, but a commercial for Kohl's department store. Not just a commercial for Kohl's but one for Kohl's exclusive  line of Vera Wang designed clothing.

Before I explode into apoplectic seizures I must point out why my anger has reached solar flare proportions.

1. I realize Iggy might need to make some money - but use some integrity and don't be such a fucking money whore Mr. Osterberg. Letting a song about heroine be used for a cruise line...which might be argued as intentionally ironic and putting it to The Man if I thought Jimmyboy was clever enough to think of that - but Iggy, my man, there is no excuse to let your music be a sound bite for Granny Clothes! How cutting edge is that, Mr. Godfather of Punk?

 2. I am totally tired of commercials using the cache of a cool artist or song without any relationship being established between the music or lyric and the product.  How can a song about paranoid, depressing feelings of isolation and disassociation also be about dowdy ladies clothes?

3. And puhleeze while we are at it - HANG YOUR HEAD IN SHAME VERA WANG!!!!! These clothes are ugly, old looking, cheap, not feminine at all and totally last season!  The colors are way too 2005/2006 as well as the shape and silhouette being horribly wrong.

I mean look at these sad rags:

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The  accessories are even worse! If I wasn't too busy yawning, I might throw up! What in the least is fashionable about any of these items? More importantly, WHAT DO THEY HAVE TO DO WITH THE AFOREMENTIONED IGGY POP SONG?

I mean Iggy has never been know for his fashion sense...

but I thought he at least had some integrity.

Laugh all the way to the bank James. Hold the cold hard cash you've earned to your fatty bosom.Perhaps you can try to use some of it to try and buy back your cool that you have whored away. As of now you are officially bankrupt as an artist in my opinion.

I need to go now and get the bile and froth out of my mouth with a good slug of whiskey...

Ti-toki is this awesome liqueur made in New Zealand. The stuff comes in a regular bottle and a corked ceramic crock decanter in green. Older decanters were made in brown.  Tons of people who go to New Zealand bring bottles of this stuff back as souvenirs bought at the duty free shops in airports. 

Who cares how it gets here: this stuff is good! The bottle itself is modeled after the "Tekoteko", the carved figure that guards against evil spirits on the top or in front of a Maori meeting house.

This 37% proof liqueur can be drunk straight or mixed and has a unique texture and sweet aftertaste. It is very versatile.  It is distilled from the berries of the Titoki tree. It is best sipped at room temperature as an after dinner drink, but may be chilled over ice, or as a delicious cocktail when mixed with lemon, orange juice or cola. Ti-Toki can also be used over ice-cream or fresh fruit and stirred in to a nice cup of java. It can even be used as a marinade with fish or meat.  Very versatile, no?

If you ever get a hold of some of this, do try it straight up first. Then go for a mixer.  Here is one of my favorite combos called a :

Tropical Heat

Add ice to a tall glass, pour in some Ti-toki liqueur.
Half fill glass with Pineapple juice and top with ginger ale. Stir.
Float an inch of  Dark Rum on the top.
Add a sprig of Mint and some pineapple pieces and some straws.

 

 

 

Flying Lizards - Sex Machine - James Brown

Ah, the memories! 1984, London, a park, the codeine cough syrup and a pink haired punk boy playing this song on a blasting, duct taped cassette player.  I really really really love this album but sometimes worry that my positive assessment may have something to do with the moment I first heard it. I have played this one for a lot of folk and they absolutely hate it. Yet a few as I do gleefully relish it. 

Included on the album are song tracks like :  Tutti Frutti, Dizzy Miss Lizzie, What's New Pussycat, Then He Kissed Me, Whole Lotta Shaking Goin' On, Purple Haze, Great Balls Of Fire and this gem, a sterilized, sweatless and soul-less, unfunky version of one of the greatest funk songs of all time.  David Cunningham pulled out all the stops for this one. This time employing the vocal work of one Sally Peterson. Sally was a relative unknown but soon after this track was heard she was offered a job as a commercial voice-over artist that eventually lead to a job as a successful British radio DJ.

Where Kraftwerk offer an organic "Look what we can do with computers." approach, Cunningham offers a "Look what computers have done!" position to music. The original soulful, spontaneous and unpredictable banter between James Brown and his group is transformed into a predictable, processed loop, churning and chugging along at a hypnotic beat that doesn't so much make you want to dance as nod, mechanically to the beat. It is infectious (opium based cough syrups enhance this effect).

Cunningham here creates a perfect antidote to those who are nauseated by the thought of a Rock and Roll Hall of Fame and gleefully deconstructs the riotous unpredictable early golden hits of RnR into a disciplined predictable equation. All the sex and liquid of the original tracks is squeezed out and filtered, then transformed into a cold metallic cypher that chuggs, clicks and hisses and then repeats itself to an arithmetic that is quite delicious and frighteningly addictive.  Many have deconstructed familiar rock hits (The Residents "Third Reich 'n' Roll" or Sonic Youth's "The Whitey Album") but few have so completely streamlined them into a seemless and seductive formula as Cunningham does here.

Now, can I count it down fellas?

Paul Marshall products could be a whole subcategory on its own in the world of tiki collecting.  This company produced a wide variety of products to assist the modern primitive man with the proper accoutrements of home and party venues.

For the collector, this stuff is easy to come across and was produced in such quantities that it is even pretty easy to

find in its original packaging.

Which is another thing that differentiates a lot of the PM Product line - it was meant to be a home consumable item not something you got in a bar or restaurant.  It was made for the brave soul during the mid-century on who wanted a tiki bar in their own home or backyard. There was even a plastic set of non-breakables to take with you on your tiki-themed picnic or barbeque.  Included in this set were insulated plastic mugs, salt and peppers and ketchup and mustard bottles.

The most often seen PM item is the full body non-glazed tiki mug sometimes referred to as a peanut-bodied tiki

 which had a ring at the top and bottom of brown glaze.  This design motif is carried throughout a lot of the PM line and variations show up on a coffee mug,

salt and peppers

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

and even strings of lights to illuminate your Tiki Patio Barbeque.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Also found is a smaller more gracile highball form dubbed the "praying monkey" style by collectors.

I have a few variations on these but cannot confirm if they are official PM designs or if they are copies made by other companies or home ceramicists. Here is a fully glazed mug

and a coffee mug with a variation on the rim design and a slight difference with the mouth of the tiki.

There is also a stackable mug or double-shot design

 

that is very often copied by the home

ceramicist and I have many of these home crafted examples in a rainbow of mid-century glazes.

For the Tiki mug collector Paul Marshall products offer a great place to start collecting. With ithe wide variety of PM products to choose from, there is sure to be something to capture eye of every type of Tiki collector.

 

 

 

 

For the "standard" of Tiki mugs let's have the standard of Polynesian Potables:

The Mai Tai

Supposedly Invented by Trader Vic himself, the Mai Tai name comes from the Polynesian. Roughly translated it means "out of this world - or The Best'. Here's what you need to make a Mai Tai the way Ol' Vic said you should and keep away from the pre-fab mixes:

2 oz. Jamaican rum (preferably a 17 year-old aged one)

1/2 oz. orange curacao

1/2 orgeat syrup

1/4 oz simple syrup

Juice of 1 lime

Cut Lime in half; squeeze juice over some shaved ice in a double old-fashioned glass; save 1 of the spent shells.  Add the remaining ingredients and enough shaved ice to fill a glass into a cocktail shaker and shake it!  Pour into the glass of ice and lime juice.  Add the spent lime half, mint spring and a fruit stick garnish made of pineapple and cherry . There you go - drink 'em up!