Wednesday, August 09, 2006
thanks for the Steely Dan booties Chris!
Posted by Peter at 11:06 AM
Tuesday, August 08, 2006
farewell Dalek/Flowerpot Man Peter Hawkins--
"He produced the crisp military tones of Sir Prancelot, the electronically processed metallic menace of the Daleks' "Ex-ter-min-ate" and the high-pitched, blustering demands of Captain Pugwash; he also provided voices for The Woodentops, SuperTed, Rainbow (he was Zippy in the first series), The Family Ness, Jet-Set, Skylark and Penny Crayon.
But it was the language of Bill and Ben the Flowerpot Men, which he called "oddle poddle", that became best known. Hawkins created this by rendering a script in plain English into gibberish which was comprehensible to small viewers. However, it remained largely a mystery to their elders, who had difficulty recognising that "flobbadob" meant flowerpot, even though the word has since become part of popular language."
Posted by Peter at 9:11 PM
Monday, August 07, 2006
phoning greetings to birthday boy Pete Cummings he told me how much he had enjoyed, the night before, his young daughter Eva's impromptu tribute of a dance to a Thelonius Monk tune & it reminded me how much that Monk (& jazz generally however "cerebral") is dance music above all, which you don't have to tell kids (or Monk!), which reminded me to of one little version of paradiso I carry around in my head, that of the Lighthouse Cafe's "Sunday Concerts" at Hermosa Beach California in the 50's, which I read about in some sleeve note somewhere, where people could drop by in the afternoon & bring their kids to dig Chet Baker, Jimmy Giuffre, Chet Baker, June Christy &c &c. I just assume some dancing went on is all. The beach right there... Glad to see the place is still thriving, with live music every night!
Posted by Peter at 3:21 PM
A Poem for Vipers
I sit in Lees. At 11:40 PM with
Jimmy the pusher. He teaches me
Ju Ju. Hot on the table before us
shrimp foo yong, rice and mushroom
chow yuke. Up the street under the wheels
of a strange car is his stash--The ritual.
We make it. And have made it.
For months now together after midnight.
Soon I know the fuzz will
interrupt, will arrest Jimmy and
I shall be placed on probation. The poem
does not lie to us. We lie under
its law, alive in the glamour of this hour
able to enter into the sacred places
of his dark people, who carry secrets
glassed in their eyes and hide words
under the coats of their tongue.
many more, read aloud by the poet, here...
Posted by Peter at 12:51 PM
real-life Luchadore Priest--
"I never knew where the next meal was coming from," he explained. "So I became a professional wrestler because I had a cause. If it weren't for my children, there would have been no reason to fight." Father Sergio's identity was eventually leaked when one of his colleagues, Daniel Garcia, the legendary Huracan Ramirez, attended a mass given by the good father and the news of his identity spread. "Luchadores were afraid to fight me, not because of my strength or skill but they were afraid of the fans," recalled the priest in an interview with Micahael Pazt of Slam Wrestling. "They would shout out, 'You can't fight a priest!' and they would throw tomatoes, garbage and even coins at them!"
Posted by Peter at 10:21 AM