IsIolaton: Day 48 Cracked Actor

Woke up with this one in my head yesterday morning. Originally appearing on 1973's Aladdin Sane, the version I'm specifically referring to here is the live version from Ziggy Stardust and the Spiders from Mars - The Motion Picture Soundtrack. I picked the double album up in a cool CD package at a Fop store in London, circa 2004. To date, this is my favorite version of this song.

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Blew through Breaking Bad Seasons 1-3 and K asked to take a breather. It definitely has that effect, and while I'm loving revisiting this world, dark as it is, I also like the idea of spacing it out a bit, to further the effect I had watching it as it aired, broadcast gaps and all. We're not going to come anywhere close to building that kind of expectation-tension for K's first viewing, but a week off might help. With that in mind then, over the last few days we watched James Franco/JJ Abrams' 11.22.63. This adaptation of a novel by Stephen King is an 8-part mini-series on HULU, and although I had some small issues, overall it's great. 11.22.63 is also a rare bird, in that many times, I'll be enthralled by a show and then let down by its ending. In this case, my minor issues were along the way, and the finale was outstanding. Very much worth your time if you're in the mood for something finite.



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I finished both William Gibson's The Peripheral and Juan F. Thompson's Stories I Tell Myself. Both incredible books for totally different reasons (obviously). Gibson's terse prose and refusal to set an initial lay-of-the-land are both facets one must acclimate to, however, that happens fairly quickly because he really pulls you in with the story. And Thompson's autobiography on growing up with Hunter S. Thompson as a father can get a bit hard to read at certain points - most definitely not due to his writing, which is simple but profound - due rather to the veil his stories lift on an icon who many of us hold dear. The end of this one brought me to tears, and the involvement of Johnny Depp in memorializing HST should prove once and for all how awesome that man is, even if his filmography has pretty much fallen by the wayside.

As of writing this, I am ~75 page into Preston Fassel's Our Lady of the Inferno, which I have been wanting to read since I first heard of it, circa a year-and-a-half ago. I was hooked as of page one, and now I'm thinking this has the potential to really soar into a ranking in my favorite books of all time list.

If you're unfamiliar with Mr. Fassel, he writes the Corrupt Signals for Fangoria, easily my favorite column in the revamped mag (which is saying something, because each issue is a veritable treasure). So far, his debut novel is no less spectacular.

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Speaking of reading, as a sort of 'Quarantine Special', I've made the Kindle editions of my first two books $0.99 for the foreseeable future. If you've not read them, please consider giving one or both a chance. One is literary horror, the other the first book in a YA Horror/Suburban Fantasy series. I'm quite proud of both - I'm the first to know when something I write is shite. Also, I've been told both are good and, perhaps more importantly, fun:

 Link to buy A Collection of Desires

Link to buy Shadow Play Book One: Kim and Jessie

If you do take this chance to read them, please take a moment to give a star rating or review on Amazon, or really, anywhere books are sold or discussed. Thank you in advance!

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Playlist:

Revocation - Great is Our Sin
Revocation - Teratogenesis EP
Old Tower - The Last Eidolon
Alastor - Black Magic
The National - High Violet
The National - The Boxer
Various - The History of Northwest Rock Vol. 2 (The Garage Years)
Perturbator - Dangerous Days
Allegaeon - Apoptosis
Burzum - Filosofem
Burzum - Thulêan Mysteries
Perturbator - I Am the Night
Pascal Rogé - Satie: 3 Gymnopédies
White Ward - Love Exchange Failure
Perturbator - The Uncanny Valley
Code Orange - Underneath
Perturbator - Excess (Pre-release single)
Balthazar - Fever
Beach House - Thank Your Lucky Stars
My Morning Jacket - Z
Perturbator - Night Driving Avenger EP
Me and That Man - New Man, New Songs, Same Shit, Vol. 1
Alio Die and Lorenzo Montaná - The Threshold of Beauty
Misfits - Collection Two

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Card:

From the Grimoire: The Spark of Essence. I'm aligning this with the mammoth writing session I am about to embark on as soon as I post this. I took the day off to finish the second pass on this year's book, which is currently on track to be released in late Summer/early Autumn.

Isolation Day 33: Man or AstroMan?!

Mr. Brown sent me this link a few days ago, but I've only just got around to watching it. This went up six years ago, which is probably around the last time I saw Astroman live, at the Echo in LaLaLand. It'd been years before that since I'd seen them play live. Astroman was one of the staples of artists I saw on what feels like a regular basis in the late 90s, thanks to Mr. Brown's excellent taste in curating live shows. I guess that era has been on my mind, because two nights ago I broke out some Reverend Horton Heat - who I don't listen to nearly enough these days, and who was also a staple live show back when we'd frequent Chicago's Double Door, Empty Bottle, Lounge Axe, Metro, etc. Anyway, great set from a great band. KEXP: You fight the greatest fight! Thank you for all these wonderful live sessions; you are the John Peel of the PACNW.

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Reading:

I blew through Charles Stross' Atrocity Archives in a matter of days. Now I'm tucked into Juan F. Thompson's memoir Stories I Tell Myself, about growing up with Hunter S. Thompson as his father. Great book, but much like Will Bingley and Anthony Hope Smith's Gonzo: A Graphic Biography of Hunter S. Thomspon, or rather Alan Rinzler's forward to that book, Juan Thompson's book doesn't always paint his father in the best light.

Not that it's trash-talking. No, JFT very obviously loved and looked up to his father. And to be clear: Obviously we are all multi-faceted organisms, with ups and downs, lights and darks, successes and failures. But seeing the first-hand ugliness of someone I consider a literary inspiration is tough. This is especially true as, after my recent viewing of Terry Gilliam's Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas film adaptation, I am further possessed of an idea that first began setting in back about fifteen years ago - the fact that maybe Hunter S. Thompson wasn't a very good person at all. Does that matter? Was Burroughs a 'good' person? Martin Amis? DOES IT MATTER?

Well, yes. A bit.

The first time I had this sense that maybe Hunter S. Thompson was kind of a fucked up person who did things that weren't very cool was the opening chapter of the Literary Greatest Hits Songs of the Doomed. 'Let the Trails Begin' tells the story of Thompson's late night arrival at a library, and his manipulations of the poor sod working there border on the actions of a narcissistic sociopath. Even if that poor sod was a criminal and a plagiarist. Then again, in re-reading Let the Trials... this morning while penning this, it occurs to me, is any of this supposed to be taken at face value? That's the the thing with Gonzo as an aesthetic/mission statement/lifestyle choice: to what extent are we supposed to take what's written at face value? There's metaphor, prose, fact, all manner of lingual possibilities, but truly, all of this may have happened and none of it may have happened. The entire scenario is so outlandish it seems impossible. Then again, a lot of what HST is known for exists in a fringe-state of mutated factoid observation. What do we do with that? I've always taken the man's work in at the gut - kind of an amalgam of the heart and the brain - but that leaves the rational, box-checking part of me hesitant in discussing the actualities of all this.

Certainly JFT's memoir of the late night, intoxicated fights and psychological bullying sessions his mother and father put on during his childhood and early adolescence are harrowing to insert into my understanding of someone whose writing makes me infinitely happy, so there's a bit of cognitive dissonance that needs sorting out as I read this. That said, as I'm sure the man himself would appreciate, the truth is the truth, but ultimately the truth may not need interfere with the work.

Or is that also the problem with our current moment? Alternative facts? No, Thompson didn't traffic in that. Neither does his son. Both are worth reading.

Dipping back into the world of HST is long overdue and absolutely wonderful. Like Irvine Welsh, HST is one of my all-time favorite writers, one I purposely do not read much of anymore, as both author's tones influence my own writing in a way that doesn't quit gel with what I have been working on for the last seven years or so (genre). That said, what I am working on at the moment, during the COVID ordeal and this long moment of isolation is actually something I originally penned in 2007/8, back when I was still reading both Thompson and Welsh on a daily basis, so picking up JFT's book might have seemed a tangent at first, but now stands revealed as, well, perfect.

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Playlist:

TV On the Radio - Dear Science
Code Orange - Underneath
Drab Majesty - Careless
White Lung - Paradise
Paramore - Riot
Paramore - All We Know Is Falling
Brand New - God and the Devil Are Raging Inside Me
Arthur Albes - Gold
NIN - Ghosts V: Together
Soundgarden - Badmotorfinger
Disclosure - Ecstasy EP
Sofi Tukker - Treehouse

Card:

Opening up good things and finding more good things inside of them.