Showing posts with label Books. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Books. Show all posts

Monday, December 4, 2017

MEDIAVORE ~ GRAPHIC NOVEL EXPLORES WW II'S FORGOTTEN ASTRAL FRONT


Noted "ideas man" and branding expert Douglas Rushkoff, perhaps best known for writing multiple bestsellers in which he coined the terms "viral media" and "social capital", is a man of many interests and talents. Among his interests are the Western esoteric tradition, and among his talents, storytelling.

Rushkoff's latest graphic novel is Aleister & Adolf, and it is competently rendered in occasionally impressive chiaroscuro by Michael Avon Oeming. It synthesizes the author's interests in a brief and breezy time-and-globe-hopping neo-noir mystery that centers on the secret symbolism of a venerable corporate logo. This is territory Rushkoff knows well.

By the time all is revealed, our reluctant investigator (and his mid-century counterpart) will have stumbled across the existence of World War II's forgotten battlefield, where Astral war was waged by crazy old men in esoteric brotherhoods wielding their ceremonially amplified wills like magickal WMD.

All in all, this book makes for fun stuff, particularly if you're intrigued by the Third Reich's obsession with occult artifacts and other such Theosophical nonsense. The fact that much of this story is based on historical fact makes it all the more compelling.

Aleister & Adolf is published by Dark Horse, and is available both in a sweet-looking hardcover edition or as an e-book over at Amazon.com. If you're gonna buy the thing, use the link I just provided, please!

Saturday, August 27, 2016

NEW BOOK EXPLORES A FASCINATING ASPECT OF CONTEMPORARY COMICS


Thanks to a recommendation from the ever-awesome comics legend Stephen Bissette, yours truly has been made aware of a new book exploring one of the more salutary developments in contemporary comicdom: the explosion, and ongoing influence, of ground-breaking, formula-exploding, taboo-shattering writers from the British Isles.

The book has a rather unwieldy title - The British Invasion: Alan Moore, Neil Gaiman, Grant Morrison, and the Invention of the Modern Comic Book Writer - but don't let that deter you. As Bissette declared in a recent Facebook post: "it's a pretty brilliant book and spot-on. ... I can honestly say Greg's not only done his homework, he's synthesized it all into a concise, involving, flowing read that's so true to the experience of those years ... that I'm getting sensory flashbacks at times ... RECOMMENDED!"

I've gone ahead and ordered a copy for myself, and I'd love it if some of you did the same, so we could do some kind of book club type thing together and discuss it in a forum I'll create for us on Facebook.

If you're in the USA, kindly order your copy from this link, which will result in a few shekels being dropped into yer old pal Jerky's beggin' cup. Meanwhile, if you currently reside in the howling wilds of Canada, then kindly use this link, as I have recently fixed it so that my affiliate program works there now, too! I went through a bit of a hassle to arrange for this, so PLEASE, if you're gonna order this book, order it through my affiliate links!

Tuesday, May 1, 2012

ATTACK OF THE RANDROIDS!

I wrote this essay in 1998, and I published it independently on a bit of web space I was allotted by the first ISP I ever signed up with. Aside from rants on alt.movies.kubrick, it's the first thing I ever published online, and it was soon noticed by the influential proto-blog Suck.com, who liked it so much they devoted half a day's edition to it. I present it here, now as an archival curio that still holds up, if I do say so myself. Enjoy! - YOPJ
Reading Does a Body Good!

In early 1998, the Modern Library Association (a division of Random House) assembled a group of America's leading literary figures in order to compile a list of the "100 Greatest English Language Novels of the 20th century." Even though it was a marketing ploy obviously geared towards getting more Americans to peruse Random House's catalog of classic literary works, THE LIST was given major coverage by many international media outlets, including CNN and most of the various news-oriented magazines. For the first time in a long time, it seemed, books were "big news."



A Dry, White Reading List

Ultimately, THE LIST turned out to be a somewhat stodgy, predictable affair, populated by the stalwart giants of literary Modernism. No one was surprised, for instance, when James Joyce's Ulysses came out on top, with his Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man coming in third, after the obligatory appearance of F. Scott Fitzgerald's The Great Gatsby. Likewise, anyone who's spent any amount of time in a university English class could have told you that Joseph Conrad, D.H. Lawrence, William Faulkner and Henry James would each see at least two of their works gracing THE LIST. The inclusion of such required-reading mainstays as 1984, Catcher in the Rye, A Clockwork Orange, Animal Farm and Brave New World was also expected. It would have been difficult to engineer a less controversial, more mainstream list than the one compiled by the Modern Library Board. And yet...

OUTRAGE!

Mere days after the Modern Library Association published it on their website, THE LIST began to cause a stir. Web-surfers were invited to vote for their own favorite novels in the on-line Reader's Choice poll and, if they so desired, leave comments about THE LIST on the website's public discussion forum. The Readers' Choice poll results, which were featured side-by-side with THE LIST, were instantaneously updated with every vote cast. Surprisingly, like some municipal election in a Louisiana back-water - or inner-city Chicago - there was no limit on the amount of times a single individual could vote.

The forum quickly transformed into an electronic complaints department. Some of the comments were as predictable as THE LIST itself... "Female novelists were given short shrift," some said. "Where are the novelists of color?" others asked. "Most of the books on this list were written by DEAD WHITE guys!" still more proclaimed. "What about Lord of the Rings? Dune? Stranger in a Strange Land? The Stand? The Autobiography of Malcolm X?" Never mind that many of the books people voted for simply didn't meet THE LIST's most basic criteria; people wanted to see their favorites up there in the Reader's Choice Top 100. Therefore, in the early days of the list (before the webmasters decided to step in and perform occasional clean-up duties), The Bible, Dianetics and Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance all got hundreds of votes as being among the best English Language Novels of the 20th Century.



Like 'Anus' Without the 'Us' 

One group, however, was particularly incensed at their fave rave's omission from THE LIST. Fans and followers of the novelist, pseudo-philosopher and cult leader Ayn Rand flocked to the Modern Library website in droves. There, they spammed the Reader's Choice poll with multiple votes for her massive, rambling doorstop odes to the 'true' heroes and masters of the universe: union-busting industrialists, terrorism-prone architects and... bankers. Within hours, hordes of brainwashed Randroid sycophants, self-professed 'individualists' with a paradoxically intense desire for the status-quo validation to which such glorified popularity contests amount, had sent Atlas Shrugged rocketing to the top of the pops. The Fountainhead, We the Living and Anthem followed closely behind.

Not content with spoiling the Readers' Choice poll for anyone genuinely interested in the results such an exercise might yield, the Randroids proceeded to take over the public forum with their whining complaints, their accusations of rampant, conspiratorial political correctness on the Board's part, their denigration of great novelists for perceived obscurantism, and their proclamations of devotion to the revealed truths contained within the writings of the greatest political thinker of all time: Ayn Rand. One can only imagine the twisted wreckage of a brain that would produce statements of such gleeming, gem-like stupidity as the following...
"No single author has had a greater impact upon the political and economic direction of this country through her fiction than Ayn Rand. That claim will be ignored rather than refuted by the fearful leaders of this country, particularly those affiliated with the Council on Foreign Relations, but none can deny the continuing popularity of her works despite the shunning of most reviewers for over 50 years."
This is the kind of deathless prose one might expect to find scrawled on the walls of a padded cell, in blue crayon, repeated over and over again in a tight, chicken-scratch script. And, sadly, it is indicative of the general calibre of literary criticism and insight offered by those Randroids who chose to grace the public forum with their illuminated views.

In reaction to the Randroid invasion, some people began to vote for such fake Rand novels as I Want to Blow Monkeys and Irony Defined. Yet another merry prankster got Anything Not Written by Ayn Rand on the list, and it recieved quite a few votes before being unceremoniously yanked by the powers that be. For a while, William Shatner's Tekwar was functioning as a de facto protest vote, even giving Atlas Shrugged a run for its money, before it, too, got yanked. Also, the public discussion forum began to smolder with anti-Rand sentiment and comments.

And so it was that, within hours of posting the results of their official list of the 100 Greatest Novels of the 20th Century, the Modern Library website found itself hosting one of the most virulent, nastiest, most glorious flame-wars in the history of the Internet. 

 

Their Own Worst Enemies

Not unlike the virgin who, on the night of his deflowering, sees himself as being instantaneously transformed into a virtuoso lover of Casanovian proportions, so, too, the Randroid. For instance, upon first completing one of her longer novels, the average Randroid often feels a great sense of intellectual accomplishment. Simply because he managed to finish a REALLY BIG BOOK, the Randroid seems to feel qualified to hold forth on issues of literary merit. When his proclamations are shot down and his protests fall flat, the Randroid retreats into a paranoid rationalization. He blames a conspiratorial "elite," a statist, anti-individualist establishment which so fears the liberating truths contained within Rand's works that they have constructed a net of clever sophistry from which it is nigh impossible to extricate oneself.

The same goes for Rand's so-called "philosophical" books. For most fans of her novels, Rand's For the New Intellectual, An Introduction to Objectivist Epistemology and Philosophy; Who Needs It? are the first (and only) books on philosophy they will ever read. And, just as knowing nothing about literature doesn't stop a Randroid from making authoritative proclamations about what 'good' literature should aspire to be, a lack of even the most basic background in philosophy doesn't prevent him from declaring that we should discard all previous modes of thought as worthless and adopt Objectivism wholesale. Inevitably, the Randroid's arguments are shot down, and, invariably, the Randroid takes his defeats as further proof of both Objectivism's status as a persecuted ideology, as well as (paradoxically) its correctness. This, of course, is the modus operendi of zealotry.

Are Objectivists Fundamentalists?

It is ironic that Objectivism, an explicitly atheist philosophy, has much in common with religion. For instance, like most religions, Objectivism is a hermetically sealed, self-perpetuating construct. Arguments with Randroids invariably devolve into "it is so because Ayn Rand says it is so." So, what are some of the similarities between Objectivism and religious fundamentalism?

Both are essentially messianic, their doctrines dependant upon revealed truths offered up by authoritative figureheads. A perusal of various Randroid websites offers ample proof that, to the Objectivist, Ayn Rand serves as nothing less than a secular Christ (or, at the very least, a Zarathustra: bringer of thunder and lightening to the trembling, unworthy masses).

Both religious fundamentalists and Objectivists are convinced that the rest of us can't go on living without learning the undeniable, revealed truths endorsed by their masters. Thus, both are enthusiastically evangelical. At least Scientologists, despicable though they may be, have the decency to be so ashamed of their lunatic beliefs that they spend millions of dollars in lawsuits trying to keep them secret.

And, finally, both would have all of humanity bow down to their respective belief-systems, no matter what the democratic or legislative will of the people. 


 Is Objectivism a Cult? 

Here, for your perusal, is the final, official version of the Modern Library Readers' Choice Top Ten Novels of the 20th century...

1. ATLAS SHRUGGED by Ayn Rand 
2. THE FOUNTAINHEAD by Ayn Rand 
3. BATTLEFIELD EARTH by L. Ron Hubbard 
4. THE LORD OF THE RINGS by J.R.R. Tolkien 
5. TO KILL A MOCKINGBIRD by Harper Lee 
6. 1984 by George Orwell 
7. ANTHEM by Ayn Rand 
8. WE THE LIVING by Ayn Rand 
9. MISSION EARTH by L. Ron Hubbard 
10. FEAR by L. Ron Hubbard 

I suspect 1984 and To Kill a Mockingbird sneak in there thanks to the fact that they are both extremely popular among high-school students, and frequently appear on academic required reading lists. As for Tolkien, his Lord of the Rings is merely ubiquitous, and its appearance not surprising. Hubbard and Rand's multiple placings, however, are another matter altogether. 

Hubbard was the founder of Scientology, one of the most controversial scam religious movements of all time. Even in death, he holds authoritarian sway over his worshipers, therefore cultish mass-spamming by his devotees is to be expected. Rand, on the other hand, founded a philosophy which was supposedly based on extreme individualism and personal freedom of thought. I can't imagine anything more amusingly ironic than the idea of hundreds upon thousands of self-declared free-thinkers and individualists, huddled in monastic intensity over their keyboards, voting for Rand's novels again and again and again, desperately questing for the collectivist accolades that come with winning a glorified online popularity contest.

The fact that they succeeded is doubly ironic.

The End of All Things

In his essay The Unlikeliest Cult in History, Michael Shermer provides us with perhaps the most succinct and eloquent explanation of why Rand's philosophy flourishes only in society's dark and lonely corners, unable to withstand the light of day.
"As long as it is understood that morality is a human construction influenced by human cultures, one can become more tolerant of other human belief systems, and thus other humans. But as soon as a group sets itself up to be the final moral arbiter of other people's actions, especially when its members believe they have discovered absolute standards of right and wrong, it is the beginning of the end of tolerance and thus, reason and rationality. It is this characteristic more than any other that makes a cult, a religion, a nation, or any other group, dangerous to individual freedom. This was (and is) the biggest flaw in Ayn Rand's Objectivism, the unlikeliest cult in history. The historical development and ultimate destruction of her group and philosophy is the empirical evidence to support this logical analysis."
 What About THE LIST?

Ultimately, as regards both THE LIST and the Reader's Choice poll, one may be forced to side with the editors of The New York Times, who state: "The streets will be littered with lists like this when the millennium comes, and when the millennium goes they will be swept into heaps and forgotten."

Tuesday, July 12, 2011

BASIL PAPADEMOS READS FROM HIS FORTHCOMING NOVEL, MOUNT ROYAL

Many of you Diasporans have been enjoying Basil Papademos's gritty/funky/hilarious revelations about his part-time gig as a chauffeur/bodyguard/babysitter to one of the Big Smoke's finer escort services (check out the DDD archives for a few choice examples and links to further information).

Well, Basil also happens to be the finest prose stylist whom yer old pal Jerky has the privilege of being able to call a friend. His latest novel, Mount Royal, is coming out soon, and it promises to be a scorcher. Check out this page for more information.

Quite enjoying the feedback you people have given his earlier efforts here, Basil asked me would I mind posting a series of videos he shot at the behest of his publisher, and with the able assistance of another one of yer old pal Jerky's trusted real-life cronies, the immortal Mel Rosedale. "Would I mind?!" I replied. "Free content for my stale, moribund site? And excellent content at that? Bring it on!"

And so, without further ado, here are three readings from Basil Papademos' upcoming novel, Mount Royal. Take it away, Baz!



Wednesday, March 16, 2011

PIMP - A LITERARY SOUNDTRACK



So there's this book, PIMP, written by Iceberg Slim, also known as Robert Beck, also known as Robert Lee Maupin. First published in 1969, PIMP has sold over 2 million copies over the years, and it hasn't been out of print ever since. Equal parts autobiography, confessional, manifesto and training manual, PIMP provides the reader with a 3D, Technicolor expose of a much-maligned profession to which many have aspired, but few have had the brains and ruthless chill to pull off.

Iceberg spent over 20 years pimping hard on some of the fastest tracks in the nation, eventually giving up the game after his last prison stint. He seems to have turned to writing almost out of desperation, and it's a good thing he did. If he'd focused his ample talents on a different pursuit - say real estate or some other such straight con - the world would have been denied one of the most gripping, entertaining and - yes - important voices of the Black Experience in 20th Century America.

Let me be clear about this - PIMP is one hell of a book. I recommend it to any and all admirers of good writing. Iceberg's prose is sharp and clean. He is equally adept at philosophical rumination as he is at good, old fashioned story telling. His viscerally drawn, slang-drenched evocation of a bygone era when the pimp bestrode the ghetto like an ebony colossus left me laughing, cringing in horror, and shaking my head in disbelief. Occasionally, I was even deeply moved. His set pieces pick you up and sweep you away. You can't help but keep turning pages. You don't want to know what comes next, you need to know. What a voice. What a talent. What a book.

One of the most original aspects of Iceberg's style is the way he made use of music throughout PIMP to help set the tone. In this respect, it may very well be the first novel ever written to have it's own built-in soundtrack. As a fan of jazz - and now, also, as a fan of this book - yer old pal Jerky decided to go through PIMP with a fine-tooth comb and isolate all the sections that prominently feature music. So here, without further ado, in chronological order and complete with accurate pagination, is a list of every instance of musical reference in Iceberg Slim's urban masterpiece, PIMP.

***

  • On page 22, a young Iceberg hums, then whistles, Springtime in the Rockies, his favorite tune, while shining shoes.
  • On page 71, Iceberg and a friend have two "high yellow bitches" on their laps while watching the Nat King Cole Trio perform at a two-buck dance night at Liberty Hall. 
  • On page 80, Ella Fitzgerald "was crying about her little yellow basket."
  • On page 83, Ellington rippled out "Mood Indigo."
  • On page 85, Lady Day was singing a sad lament. "My man don't love me. Treats me awful mean. He's the meanest man that I ever seen."
  • On page 93, The Bird, Eckstine and Sarah sent a crazy medly of soul sounds from Creole Fat's Rib Heaven's loudspeakers.
  • On page 95, some skinny joker with scald burns on his face was fronting a combo. He tried to ape the Bird's phrasing and tone. Mixed couples danced to "Stomping at the Savoy" on a carpet sized dance floor in the rear.
  • On page 105, the combo was speed-riffing "Tea for Two". 
  • On page 107, the joint got back on jump time. The combo started to riff "Mood Indigo."
  • On page 108, the elevator operator for the Blue Haven Hotel is whistling "When the Saints Go Marching In."
  • On page 119, in The Devil's Roost, the juke box was grinding out "Pennies from Heaven."
  • On page 120, the juke box was sobbing Lady Day's beef about her mean but sweet man.
  • On page 127, the juke box was moaning gut-bucket blues. Some joker was singing "going down slow; Don't send no doctor; Doctor sure can't do no good. Please write my mother; Tell her the shape I'm in; I'm going down slow." It had been Iceberg's father's favorite record. 
  • On page 128, Eckstine's syruppy "Cottage for Sale" oozed from the Hog's radio.
  • On page 129, Iceberg could hear the deep-throated boom of a console phonograph. The Ink Spots' lead tenor was parfaiting "Whispering Grass."
  • On page 129 again, the big white phonograph in the corner was booming out a novelty tune. "When your pipes get dry then you know you're high. Everything is dandy. You truck on down to the candy store, but you don't get no peppermint candy. Then you know your body's sent. You don't care if you don't pay rent. Light a tea and let it be if you're a viper."
  • On page 136, Iceberg comes home to find that his bitch has been listening to Lady Day's lament on the turntable again, wasting time. The table was warm from the playing.
  • On page 140, Silas the elevator man is still whistling "When the Saints Go Marching In."
  • On page 147, Melody switches on a radio and Debussy's "Claire de Lune" sweet-noted gently through the room.
  • On page 165, Iceberg hears "Tuxedo Junction" pulsing behind him, in Sweet's opulant 15th floor penthouse pad.
  • On page 166, a high-assed yellow broad flicked life back into the phonograph. "Gloomy Sunday", the suicide's favorite, dirged through the room.
  • On page 199, Iceberg comes home to find his fake-sick whore listening to Lady Day whining about her mean man again. He breaks the record in two.
  • On page 204, Iceberg listens to "Mood Indigo" once again while thinking.

***

Pretty nifty, no? But I figure reading it is one thing, while hearing is believing. So, after completing this task, I started up a YOUTUBE account for the Daily Dirt Diaspora, found the best and most relevant examples of all the music listed above, and put together a virtual chronological literary soundtrack by creating a special PIMP TRACKLIST. I even whipped together some full-color CD cover art for y'all, just in case any of you wants to download all these songs and put together your own PIMP SOUNDTRACK CD.

The artists and the music featured in this project are all absolutely top notch, and I urge you to take a moment to pop on your headphones, sit back, relax and just wallow in some of the finest, most vital popular music that the 20th century has to offer.

Thank you for your time and attention;
Yer old pal Jerky