drugs [2021)

We are finally catching up with Pauly Deathwish.

Here on his sixth album, drugs.

Good psychedelic surf start.

The romance must have seemed possible.

Christian trappings.

A great opening track.

Psychedelic Christianity.

Think of those private press releases from the ’60s and ’70s.

I’m hearing the joy and gravity of Gorky’s Zygotic Mynci.

The breakdown of this song “An Ocean of Cough Syrup” is where it’s at.

Maybe a bit of Kevin Ayers.

Wasted innocence.

After the party.

The party at the end of the world.

Certainly song lyrics reminiscent of Wayne Coyne.

Sonic Youth.

Yummy Yummy Yummy.

Pop psych.

Monkees.

Maybe the romance has faded.

Tabloid.

Even Dire Straits.

Walk of life.

Track 2 with acrobatic chord changes.

Music school.

Straight-up Fort Leavenworth presentation.

A pop song about biological warfare, economic warfare, psychological warfare, and divide/conquer.

This is some serious shit.

Not sure whether to call Billy Bragg or Glenn Greenwald.

This is the kind of shit that wins Nobels.

So maybe we are hearing the new Dylan here.

Imagine if Thom Yorke actually had something to say.

The bends.

Lift.

Leonard Cohen.

John Cale.

Anthemic.

This dude is definitely right-wing.

I guess you could say.

Imagine if Bob Dylan was actually in the John Birch Society.

That’s what you get here.

Hey, take it or leave it.

Ezra Pound!

But this dude is all about ‘merica.

And i got no problem with it.

Climax.

Constitution of the USA.

Time’s up.

“memes at the ready”.

Information warfare taken into the realm of head music.

Songwriting.

This guy is a danger…to the lame liberal establishment.

THIS MOTHERFUCKER HAS RELEASED 7 ALBUMS THIS SUMMER!!!!!!!

Kraftwerk.

Jon Spencer.

Martin Rev dipping Copenhagen.

Ministry?

Butthole Surfers?

Dabbling.

“Latinas for Trump”.

Wow.

Track 3 is a trucker song.

Set in Switzerland.

With production like Nigel Godrich.

It’s a long track.

But enjoyable.

Drum machine and acoustic guitar.

And funky clavinet.

Jerry Reed.

Amos Moses.

Yodeling!

FUcking hell.

Haven’t heard this since Jerry Lee.

Dwight Yoakam.

Chris Isaak.

But this is the kinda shit cognizant about There’s a Riot Goin’ On.

Spaced cowboy.

Travelogue of Swiss sites from cinema history.

I have a feeling this guy would drink Klaus Schwab’s blood.

This conspiracy platter is fine listening.

Variety.

French/German.

No Italian.

Except Cortina d’Ampezzo.

No Romansch.

Motorik.

NEU! meets Gram Parsons.

Who is/was this “Swiss Alps Truck-Driving Gal”?

Cosmic funk.

Like French band Air.

Great bassline.

Dancy filler track of highest quality.

Mike Lindell needs to hear this shit.

mark_packet.

recieve_good.

What if Wayne Coyne and Dave Fridmann actually made songs that spoke to something larger?

They’ve hit it occasionally.

You gotta have Jesus in your heart.

Brian Eno first four records spun out again and again.

Cornelius.

Stereolab.

And WHAT THE FUCK?!?

Delta blues?

Country blues???

Yes, indeed.

“COVID-19 Blues”.

Like late-period Dylan.

Seriously.

If Dylan passes, this dude is next up.

I know it sounds implausible.

Communism used to be risqué.

Now the tables have turned.

Paul Joseph Watson needs to hear this shit.

The human condition.

Dr. Steve Pieczenik needs to hear this song, “COVID-19 Blues”.

This is Stax.

Muscle Shoals.

Atlantic.

Booker T.

But with that San Antonio twist.

Pauly Deathwish from the Alamo city.

Augie Meyers.

Flaco Jimenez.

Is Trump still the President? 😉

When was this written?

Why that move to Bedminster?

Cabinet meeting.

A unifying song.

Like “Dixie”.

Ask Abraham Lincoln about “Dixie”.

Masked and anonymous.

QAnon line as money shot.

Sweet harmonica.

Linn drums.

Beck.

Loop.

It don’t matter.

This record rocks the Walmart parking lot.

GUITAR SOLO!

Jimmy Vaughn.

B.B. King.

Richard Manuel tickling the ivories.

Band brown album.

Call Q.

Call Mojo.

Call Uncut.

Side two for all you vinyl lovers.

“Let’s Get Creative”.

Floyd delay.

Sexy song.

J. Spaceman.

Jeff Tweedy.

Kid A.

Really special production.

Which just goes to show that anything can be done with an iPhone.

Except privacy.

Tim Cook cocksucker.

In shitty record store.

Radiohead were our Beatles.

Or their Beatles.

Now many friends have left.

You can’t say White Lives Matter.

Can someone please tell Pauly Deathwish this?

Not that he SAID it.

Because he didn’t.

Trail of Dead.

Which makes sense.

Read this motherfucker’s bio on Spotify.

No slouch.

I happen to know some extra details which I may divulge at a later date.

Lots of training in music composition.

Multiple touches with Nadia Boulanger.

Sexy song.

T. Rex.

Bolan.

Jonny Greenwood.

Scott Pilgrim.

Edgar Wright needs to hear this shit.

No cap.

Dead ass.

Trans.

Neil Young.

Dead Man.

Thurston Moore needs to hear this shit.

Funny mention.

Watch the water.

August 20.

Rollerskate Skinny appreciation society.

St. Johnny.

Boo Radleys.

First Stereolab album.

Grandaddy.

Harvest drums.

Like it!

Like a Sonic Youth country album.

Made in a barn.

Nothing Ween about this shit.

Except for the trucker song.

Which is funny as fuck.

This dude definitely a QAnon.

“Midnight Rider”.

Paul Revere.

One if by…two…

Mercury Rev.

Suzanne Thorpe.

Applied memetics.

Oh shit.

First Eno record.

Desert island.

THIS is impressive.

Turns out to be motto of 4th Psychological Operations Group (4thPOG) at Fort Bragg.

The PSYWAR just got real.

Vietnamese ghosts amplified.

But this is Chinese.

China bio attack.

Fauci through China.

Focus on Peter Daszak and his absurd opera-singer brother.

There is going to be hell to pay.

Q-uantum of solace.

PCAPs.

Obviously, Pauly Deathwish loves the instrumentals from Bowie’s Low.

This is a constant touchstone.

Trance.

Meditative techno.

Ugh.

When the bass drops in on “Verbum Vincet ’72”.

Who was Q?

Who is Q?

Was Q a psychological operation?

From whence might it have emanated?

Roger Waters.

Hell to pay.

Criminal networks wiped off the face of the earth.

Peking opera.

Sue me.

LeBron James is a worthless cocksucker.

I think I would get along with this Pauly Deathwish guy.

8964.

We have it all…in Utah.

“Bluffdale” like Marquee Moon.

Meets chiptune.

Super Marquee Moon.

Even a bit of John Bonham.

Good drum sound.

Dubstep?

Riots worldwide.

No vaccine passports.

Here’s where BLM and MAGA come together.

Don’t vax us, man.

A unifying event.

The real racists are the totalitarian Democrats.

Am I doing this right?

Pepe Lives Matter needs to hear this shit.

Klaus Voorman bass.

Leave it in.

Smacked out of your gourd.

Phil Spector murdered by the Rona.

Lee “Scratch” producing The Clash.

People want to sleep forever.

Sleep through this global nightmare.

Gotta wake up.

But the reality is crushing.

So God gives us solace here and there.

Black ark.

Meandering.

Oar.

Moby grape.

Hal Blaine back in the barn stoned on some world-class shit.

Nodding.

Space-age.

Astral weeks.

Nick Drake.

Ending album on serious note?

“Cotton Ball Soup”.

Will the masses win?

Against the vaccine passport bastards?

Montreal.

Where’s GYBE?

No heroes can be found.

Where’s Thom Yorke?

Radiohead?

Bob Dylan?

WWIII.

iTunes.

Spotify.

-PD

Democrats [2014)

For so long I dreamed.

Of visiting Africa.

Merely in film.

To say that I was not narrow-minded.

And to honor the one friend I have ever known from that beautiful continent.

A native of Chad.

Tchad.

And a former resident of Côte d’Ivoire.

Because I love geography.

But, even more, I love people.

And I am pleased to report that this documentary, about ZIMBABWE, is a masterpiece.

Directed by a Dane (as in Denmark) by the name of Camilla Nielsson.

And currently available in the U.S. for streaming on Netflix.

It is a recursive process.

For so long I cried.

When I thought of slavery.

When I saw the beautiful face of a black man.

And the teeth with many gaps.

I now know.

I can say.

My dear friend.

You look like you may have come from Zimbabwe.

But recursion may become tiresome.

So we will plop with geography for a moment.

Sadly ignoring Chad and Ivory Coast for the time being, we must locate (firmly) Zimbabwe on a map.

Champagne Castle.

Remove your sanctions.

Remove your sunshades.

Looks like South Africa (south)…and Botswana (west)…additionally Mozambique (east)…and gets hairy from there.

But you needs must only remember that the two Zs flock together:  Zimbabwe and Zambia.

And so to the north (by way of northwest [not possible]) is Zambia.

Lusaka.

And over Angola is Luanda.

Lusaka.

Luanda.

You are really getting the hang of this 🙂

Have you thought about working for the State Department?

Recursive.

Going back.

But wait…there’s less!

Just remember that Zimbabwe is southeast Afrique.

Not on the coast.

That’s -zambique.

But landlocked.

Have you ever heard the rot of colonialism?

No no.

Have you ever heard a landlocked brass band?

The pitiful, wailing clarinets…

Landlocked is potentially poverty.

At the mercy of your neighbors.

Over land.  Over sea.

One.  Two.  If.

Recur thyself!

No…

We must say it:  MUGABE!

A big, fucking rockstar of totalitarianism.

Nah…

Dictatorshit!

Yes.  His dictator shit!

As when the Dalai Lama was a boy.

And they kept his turds.

Because he was some kind of golden child.

But President Mugabe (since 1980) will forever have the ignominy of that desafinado military band behind him.

Celebrations like dirges.

Gloriously out of tune!

Nothing slight about it!!

And every head bows…and every knee genuflects in fealty.

A spry 93 years old.

And President of Zimbabwe for a mere 37 years.

He ain’t a king.

And worse:  he’s only 4th on the list of usurping motherfuckers!

You’d have to go to shitholes like Angola (ahh, Luanda…), Cameroon, and the kicker (!) Equatorial Guinea to find jerks who have managed to outlast the black Hitler.

But I like Mugabe.

[what?????????]

No, no…let me explain.

First:  the guy does have a Hitler mustache.  More or less.

But that’s not why I like him.  I don’t dig Hitler.

Wait…do I like Mugabe?

Well, there’s a time and place for everything (and everyone).

As you watch Democrats (mercifully…for all involved…NOT about the U.S. Democratic Party), you might grow attached to the various fuckers involved.

Politicians.

Lawyers!

But Third World lawyers.

Some sad shit…

But most importantly:  brave, noble human beings.

You wanna see a real revolution?

Watch this film.

You wanna see some real sacrifices for democracy?

Watch this film.

To be sure…democracy is ugly!

And we Americans are the best at it.

Anything goes!

Fight, fuck, kill…but more like lie, cheat, deceive…yeah.

Democracy brings out the worst in people.

But it arrives at the best result.

It’s a goddamned crucible.

Just to think…that the master copy of the Constitution of Zimbabwe (ostensibly the subject of this film) was on a fucking Dell laptop.

Dell.

Right up the road from me.

Round Rock.

In the Westerns…

&

Michael Dell’s Horatio Alger story…at UT-Austin.

Even closer to me.

And #vault7.

So that we know that every scintilla–every Oxford comma was hacked by the CIA and/or NSA and known throughout the Five Eyes…even before the leaked hard copy hit newsstands in Harare.

Ah!

Another capital…

Reçu.

I can never go back.  Enough.  TO give you a full telling.

I guess Paul Mangwana is still alive.

This.

The character that grows on you.

From chuckling social engineer.

To political operative shitting his pants.

How do you say “damage control” in Shona?

Exactly.

And Susan Rice is a bitch.

But that’s neither here nor there.

Because Democrats so precisely parallels the recent U.S. election.

The drama.  Allegations.

The swaggering strongman.

Yeah…Juan Williams would ride to town on that correlation.

So is Trump Mugabe?

Fuck no.

Not yet.

And probably not ever.

But liberals will have a field day with this possibility.

Social justice warriors will mouth off like the surly reporter from South Africa.

What an asshole!

And so we sympathize with Mr. Mangwana.

What a precarious position he was put in!

To try and bring the illusion of constitutionality to the ZANU-PF party.

But wait a minute…wait a minute…you ain’t heard nothing yet!

Remember, remember…that a black leader can repress black people.

America thought it was fine and dandy…and candy-shop clean when it elected CIA agent Barack Obama.

That turned out to be a big mistake.

One doesn’t investigate one’s own employer pursuant to crimes against humanity (9/11) when such equates to biting the hand that feeds.

Obama lost control.

And tried to get a little African in his lame-duck months.

Oops.

Yes…only democracy in the Middle East?  Israel?  You’ve got to be joking.

And Zimbabweans were so hopeful after the Mwangana/Mwonzora conclave wrapped up its two-year-overlong constitutional convention.

Got a little #MAGA in you?

Check out how a constitution is crafted.

If wasn’t all ass-kissing in Philadelphia.

Some genuinely contentious points.

And the Obamacare “Repeal and Replace” that just narrowly failed.

Think that wasn’t stressful?

Freedom Caucus gonna be outta jobs.

Saving their butts.

Sorry fuckers…

But I wouldn’t take their job for anything.

To be in that position.

Because.

We live a little while.

And then we die.

And so Camilla Nielsson deserves a Nobel (or at least a can of General Snus)…because she captured REAL, FUCKING LIFE here.

She doesn’t tell you what to think.

She says (in effect):  “figure it out”.

Here’s the facts. Figure it out.

“I have seen what I have seen”, wrote Ezra Pound in his second Canto.

I can’t explain it.

Some drumming.

Women making turkey noises.

Weird, macarena dances.

And a little boy gets beaten to death.

All to write a new constitution.

And Douglas Mwonzora is right:  Mugabe is evil.

That is a totally valid perspective.

Having seen this film.

[ahh…]

One source.

Never was anything decided on the basis of one source.

But circumstantial runs up against direct.

Very good, Eric Bolling!

And Tony Shaffer was better with MacGuffin.

But that’s just because this is Dossier du cinema.

Not cool enough for diacritics.

One final word…

Mugabe persists from the Soviet era.

Figure it out.

Is he a friend of NATO?

Do the geopolitical math.

Ruminate on AFRICOM.

Pound…was no patriot.  Of his own country.  In a traditional sense.

And the most I can bring you is this.

This attestation to genius.

The genius of Democrats by Camilla Nielsson.

And the sad face of former Prime Minister Morgan Tsvangirai…leader of the opposition MDC party.

Sad.

Like his face had been bashed in few too many times.

And maybe we don’t wanna know.

But the cowed look says it all.

And Douglas Mwonzora risks it all.

Three days in jail without food or water.  Plus another 18 days to make it a full three weeks.

Mr. Mwonzora.

So calm.

Collected.

That cool we see in Jafar Panahi.

Yes.

You can jail me.

But you will have to thoroughly kill me.

To stop me.

From doing what I love.

-PD

Twin Peaks “Northwest Passage” [1990)

As in a dream dream dream

I try to sleep sleep sleep

Soft upon Badalamenti’s Oberheim swells…

Wanting just a bit of life before the door shuts.

And so venturing off to Washington state.

Akin to sleepwalking.

Writing a review under heavy sedation.

Prevents a Spinal Tap argument.

Kyle MacLachlan…so calm cool collected.

The joy of clues.

The tinkering of detail.  Spotting.  Forensics.

Criminal psychology.

And he wants a reasonable rate on a reasonable room.

A real civil servant.  Enjoys his work.

Federal Bureau of Investigation.

The eccentric Special Agent Dale Cooper.

Always talking to Diane on his tape recorder.  1990.

T R.  Or R T.

Teddy Roosevelt.  Or Russia Today.  Radio Television (sans Film).

Sure, Sherilyn Fenn is pretty darned good looking here.

Drives off a roomful of Norwegians.

Paul Revere in reverse.

Mädchen Amick had me confused for a second.

I’m still confused.

One should expect nothing less from one of the few living American auteurs (David Lynch).

Lara Flynn Boyle takes a little trip.

Really, we are just learning the principal players here.

Miles to go before they sleep.

I would only add a pithy case for comparison.

Newtown.

 

-PD

Game of Death [1978)

Panopticon.

Self-censorship.

Can’t leave well-enough alone.

Yes.  In America we have our heroes of the Revolution.  George Washington.  Paul Revere.

But here…we have a sad goodbye to a great hero for Hong Kong.

Thus begins the Bruce Lee apochrypha.

It starts very bad.  Some of the editing seems straight out of the Tim and Eric Awesome Show.

But it gets better.  Way better!  No, this is not a great film.  It’s not even really a good film.  But for fans of Bruce Lee it is worth watching for several reasons.

I must admit:  Bruce Lee brought about a change in my innermost being.  I know that sounds naïve.  I owe some credit to Shaquille O’Neal.  I just happened to catch an interview between Shaq and Yao Ming in which O’Neal admitted that his passion for basketball stemmed from being inspired by Bruce Lee.

Having recently seen Lee’s canonic oeuvre when I came across this interview, it made total sense to me what Shaq was saying.

And that brings us to one of the highlights of Game of Death:  Bruce Lee vs. Kareem Abdul-Jabbar.  Yes, the NBA’s all-time leading scorer indeed plays a fairly significant role in this film.  What is more, this gives me the opportunity to reach out and wish Kareem a speedy recovery as he has just recently undergone coronary bypass surgery.

It actually is amazing that director Robert Clouse put together a semi-watchable film from what little he had to go on.

Hugh O’Brian is pretty good in this.  It’s just a shame that his acting talents go to waste in dialogues with body doubles.

If I haven’t made it abundantly clear, let me clarify:  Bruce Lee was no longer alive when this film was being put together.  Though Lee filmed portions of it, his absence presented a particularly insurmountable problem.

It pains me to say this, but it really is the ensemble cast which keeps this film afloat when it should lag and sag from Lee’s missing contribution.  Dean Jagger is a disgusting psychopath who reminds me of what I imagine Donald Rumsfeld to be like behind closed doors.

The biggest saving grace is Colleen Camp.  She looks so beautiful in this film!

As for there being a conspiracy involved in the demise of Bruce Lee, I don’t doubt that for a second.  Unfortunately, it is not a subject on which I have any pertinent knowledge.

We fans can continue to gain inspiration from the anti-fascist characters Lee embodied.  His short life brought such joy and exhilaration into the world.

-PD