HENRY MILLER

"The dreamer whose dreams are non-utilitarian has no place in this world. In this world the poet is anathema, the thinker a fool, the artist an escapist, the man of vision a criminal." - Henry Miller


Henry Valentine Miller (American writer, 1891-1980) was a novelist most famous for writing "Tropic of Cancer," "Tropic of Capricorn," and "Black Spring." Shocking to some, he was a radical in style and content, and probably as infamous for his obscenity trials as his written works. Miller wrote joyously and exuberantly about sex and other taboos and shocked a prudish America. He was a cranky mandarin expat who didn't suffer fools gladly, and would just as soon spit in your eye as use a polite euphemism or censor his freewheeling imagination. Miller once said you could travel thousands of miles in America and never once taste good bread.


In 1940, George Orwell praised Miller in an essay entitled, "Inside the Whale."

"Here in my opinion is the only imaginative prose-writer of the slightest value who has appeared among the English-speaking races for some years past. Even if that is objected to as an overstatement, it will probably be admitted that Miller is a writer out of the ordinary, worth more than a single glance; and after all, he is a completely negative, unconstructive, amoral writer, a mere Jonah, a passive acceptor of evil, a sort of Whitman among the corpses."

"Actually we are a vulgar, pushing mob whose passions are easily mobilized by demagogues, newspaper men, religious quacks, agitators and such like. To call this a society of free peoples is blasphemous. What have we to offer the world besides the superabundant loot which we recklessly plunder from the earth under the maniacal delusion that this insane activity represents progress and enlightenment?" - Henry Miller

SUMMERTIME JUKEBOX COUNTDOWN

Summertime is music time.

The song of the summer. Santogold live on Jools. "L.E.S. Artistes"

"I can say I hope it will be worth what I give up..."




"Dig Yourself, Lazarus Dig!"

"...But what do we really know of the dead And who actually cares?"

He may look like a 1970s used car salesman in a highly flammable leisure suit, but Nick Cave writes some catchy songs. Here's one about sex, death, drug addiction, success, and resurrection.

"Poor Larry!"

SEX AND THE CITY

"Sex and the City" is breaking all attendance records in the movie theaters, but I wouldn't watch this dreck if you set my head on fire. Why pay ten bucks to watch shallow material girls drinking Cosmos and wearing expensive shoes -- when you can watch them on TV for free? Or in countless bars across the city, where your sawbuck also entitles you to a drink?

I admit, I'm not in the target demographic for this one, not by a long shot. Maybe there's something clever and unpredictable about these mannequins I've missed, something buried deep beneath the surface, but I doubt it. Like the poet said, sometimes under the surface there's just more surface.

Here is a funny parody from the folks at TV Land -- a cool website that allows you to play old clips and shows from the golden days of television. Check out TV Land HERE. Explore this cool site!

WITH A LITTLE SEX IN IT

The great Preston Sturges directed some of the wittiest films ever made. He reinvented comedy for Hollywood. This trailer is from a film retrospective of his work at Bryn Mawr Film Institute, and a reminder that "he's still the guy to beat."



I saw a brand new comedy this weekend. My girlfriend Wendy and I sat in the darkness, waiting for laughs. We sat there like Vladimir and Estragon, albeit with Diet Coke. Time slowed down to a near standstill. The movie was "Baby Mama" starring Tina Fey and Amy Poehler, two very funny people. What happened? Hollywood has recently discovered the hilarity of pregnancy -- wanted, unwanted, too old, too young, with surrogate mothers -- and this is the latest in a half dozen. What ever happened to originality?



Preston Sturges was original -- and funny. If you want a good laugh, skip all the formulaic, market-tested comedies out there, and rent "Sullivan's Travels." It tells the story of a Hollywood director who is sick and tired of making mindless fluff. He dreams of moving among the real people, and making a great film of social significance -- and it's hilarious. By the way, the film he dreams of making is called "Oh, Brother Where Art Thou." Years later, the Coen Brothers honored Sturges in a film of this name. With a little sex in it.

9 POUND SHOWCASE: THE FUGS

Keeping our promise to offer offbeat, beat, non-conformist, non-commercial, visionary and downright strange acts of creativity to our readers, we bring you this 9 Pound Hammer Showcase highlighting the uncle beat poets from the East Village, The Fugs. Brilliant avant-folk provocateurs, these guys sang truth to power with a wicked sense of humor, satire, irony, high level stuff that could get you arrested (and did) in the Land of the Free.



The Fugs formed back in 1964, when Ed Sanders rented the former Kosher meat store on East 10th, and transformed it into the Peace Eye Bookstore. He met poet Tuli Kupferberg. They named themselves after a Norman Mailer-coined euphemism from "The Naked and the Dead," a wartime novel written when soldiers were free to kill but not say the word "fuck," at least in print. They played in cafes and theaters in the Village, and headlined a cross-country tour opposing the Vietnam war in its early days, playing folk and rock and basically blowing minds in the Heartland.



We drew inspiration for the Fugs from a long and varied tradition, going all the way back to the dances of Dionysus in the ancient Greek plays and the "Theory of the Spectacle" in Aristotle's Poetics, and moving forward to the famous premier performance of Alfred Jarry's Ubu Roi in 1896, to the poèmes simultanés of the Dadaists in Zurich's Cabaret Voltaire in 1916, to the jazz-poetry of the Beats, to Charlie Parker's seething sax, to the silence of John Cage, to the calm pushiness of the Happening movement, the songs of the Civil Rights movement, and to our concept that there was oddles of freedom guaranteed by the United States Constitution that was not being used.
- Ed Sanders


They first recorded in 1965, and put their show on vinyl to the delight of far flung fans and connoisseurs of beatnik irreverence. This wasn't the frail, anemic poetry of your timid schoolbooks, but some rough beast vexed to nightmare, it's hour come at last, playing electric guitars and invoking the gods. They freaked the squares out. The grey flannel Chamber of Commerce types didn't dig this crazy pagan humor, and the crewcut cops were notified, but the children -- at least, some of them -- thought it was great to spit in Goliath's eye.

The Fugs became a cult favorite, secretly traded among fans like contraband, passed like a joint between outstretched fingers, popping up all over this great land. Yes, soon the Feds would be pounding at the door, and the FBI would try to crush this communist conspiracy of "free thought," but the damage had been done. Songs like "Kill for Peace" had already gotten out to undermine the war effort and corrupt the youth of Athens, er, I mean America.

You will enjoy this, I'm sure. For those who think the 1960s were all Austin Powers and the Monkees, this is a good antidote. Just don't take it and operate heavy machinery, okay kids?


For more information, check out the official History of the Fugs here. An interview with Ed Sanders is here. For more tales of beatnik glory, check out Ed Sanders' Woodstock Journal here.

HAPPY VALENTINE'S DAY! w/CARDS & MUSIC!

Hope to see you at the Valentine's Day show at the Cafe Racer this evening (see post below) but whatever you do, have fun. Today you have license to be a romantic! Here are some classic vintage valentines from the days of yesteryear to put you in the mood...and some music to turn on your lovelight.

First, the classic Victorian valentine. This bespeaks a heart-shaped box, a difficult fastened bodice, and a special kiss on the river bridge. Oh, dear! Froggy went a-courtin, and all that good old-fashioned repression masking unbridled lust! In these days, they even put pants on piano legs. Perish the impure thought!


A half a century later, this valentine is from a pack of 32, with one card for everyone in class. This is the 1950s, the world has gone only halfway to hell, but true love competes with atom bombs and science fiction and hot rod cars -- not to mention rock and roll. On the surface, it's all golfing with Ike, but even that kind of heavy sedation can't kill the urge to merge, as long as you save it for marriage. You have a secret admirer!


The present day. This is the future you dreamed about, but not quite. Unless you dreamed of being a couch potato glued to reality TV. Our hearts may be a little smaller, but our asses are growing to elephantine proportions, and we can barely reach the remote without wheezing out of breath. Give this special "Veal-entine" to trendy vegans, or any friend stuck on a diet! No box of chocolates for these folks!

And now for some special Valentine's Day music, courtesy of Minnesota Public Radio. Click here.