Crank #6 - fine or superfine?

6
#
3
$
E.T. the Antichrist • Celluloid Elvis • Teen Beat • Columbo • Woe Is Me • Dan Kelly Goes Mad • Vitamins for Drunks • A Suicide Primer
GRADE A FANCY
Sure. I’ll peek up the chubby girl’s skirt. Good heavens, why do you ask?
¶
The original opening title, penned back in March, 1996, was “Aggression, Inc.”
Somehow, it didn’t feel right, having ripened on my hard drive, untouched, for several months. Not terribly aggressive, now is it? Taking a nice, leisurely year to produce another issue of this beast.
So we’re “fancy” now. Fancy.
¶
One of the wisest things ever written in a zine appeared in Farm Pulp. I quote Greg
Hischak with his permission:
“It is vanity that deludes us editors into thinking that people notice [our]
vanity publications’ unpunctualities.”
I’ll say no more.
¶
I’m filming this issue in sequence, starting with this introduction and finishing
with the index. I’m reviving the index, last seen in Crank #4, because, quite frankly,
I don’t think any of you appreciated it as much as you should have. I’m also reviving
the detoured New Yorker-style comics, last seen in Crank #4 as well. (The comics are
coming back because they were just so darned popular. Yes, yes—I’ve been known to
criticize other zine editors for overusing detoured comics in lieu of original material.
Tough shit—mine are still better than theirs, any day of the week.) In between, I’ve
got two dozen ideas that need writing. Some will be good, others will be great. Slurp
it up, ladies, and leave the leftovers for your friends.
This will be a goddamned watershed in the history of Crank. I dare say that it puts
everything else on the market to shame.
¶
The next self-described “beer snob” to cross my path is going to get a bottle across
the face. I’ve got nothing against microbrews, certainly, but I won’t fucking stand
another jerkoff telling me how their palate has been ruined by all the good beer they
get in their city. Just leave me and my Rolling Rock alone, ok?
¶
You’d do well to remember my name and from whence I’ve come.
¶
If I make it to 30, I’ll make it to 80. Two years and counting.
Enjoy the show. While it lasts.
Jeff Koyen
The YHVH Guy
Your Editor in his
college days, circa 1989.
Reprinted without
permission from The Rutgers Review.
Koyen Makes. The World Takes.
1
#6
MOST PEOPLE ARE USED GOODS.
“STAFF” EMAIL ADDRESSES
Jeff Koyen
[email protected]
Roy Batchelor—Internet Factotum
[email protected]
Tom Bielavitz—What I Learned from Elvis Films (p.28)
[email protected]
Jeremy Braddock—The King…of Celluloid (p.24)
[email protected]
Dan Kelly—At the Migraines of Madness (p.57)
[email protected]
Dennis McGee—Cover Artist and Fellow Software Thief
[email protected]
ADMINISTRATIVE EMAIL ADDRESSES
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Crank #7 Preview
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Hot XXX Singles Mailing List
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To Tell Amy How Wise She is for Dating Jeff
[email protected]
To Tell Amy How Foolish She is for Dating Jeff
[email protected]
To File a Protest Regarding Anything Contained in Crank #6
[email protected]
THEIR BALLYHOO OF BEING CHEWED UP BY THEIR JOBS,
THEIR GIRLFRIENDS OR BOYFRIENDS, OR WHATEVER
EMOTIONAL PROBLEM IS FASHIONABLY CRIPPLING, IS
ENOUGH TO TURN MY STOMACH. FACT IS, THEY’VE GOT
VERY LITTLE PROBLEMS OF NOTE. RATHER, IT’S THEIR
SUBSERVIENCE TO CRISIS, THE WOE-IS-ME
NONSENSE WHICH SHELTERS THEM LIKE A SURROGATE
MOTHER’S TEET, THAT HAS CHEWED THEM UP.
With the exception of The King…of Celluloid, What I Learned from Elvis Films, and How About that AntiSemitism in Star Trek?, everything in Crank #6 was written by and is copyright (1997) Jeff Koyen.
The rights to those articles noted above are retained by their respective authors. Dennis McGee
illustrated the cover; DB Velveeda illustrated the E.T. article (p. 12). Dan Kelly supplied his own artwork
(p. 57); I didn’t ask where it came from. All other illustrations were stolen from various sources. Crank
is a production of Jeff Koyen, PO Box 633, Prince Street Station, NYC 10012 and is written off as such
come Tax Time. ISSN 1076-9201. Subscriptions are $12 for 4 issues, checks made to “Jeff Koyen.”
Feel free to reprint whatever text strikes your fancy, but please contact me regarding the reprinting of
artwork, layouts, etc. Excerpts of reasonable length and the Crank logo may be reprinted for the purpose
of review; please send me a clipping when you’ve got the chance. For the technically curious, Crank was
produced as a single Mac Quark document and output straight to film. That’s why it looks so darned
pretty. These printers should be ashamed of themselves: Nittany Valley Offset (College Park, PA) and
Premier Press (Cherry Hill, NJ). Nittany Valley declined to print Crank #6 after seeing issues #4 and
#5—they were afraid it would be too offensive for “the women in the plant.” Premier Press was a bigger
disappointment (and surprise)—their decision to not print Crank #6 was a genuine shock. Not only did
they print issue #4, but they also printed Highball, a goddamn titty
magazine. Apparently, Crank #6 “is getting too rank,” and might
offend “the ladies who work [t]here.” Fuck—Crank #4 was much
nastier than this one. So, after a six-week delay, this issue was
finally accepted by a shop in Florida. (Ironic, considering Florida’s
track record of obscenity prosecution and censorship.) My thanks to
Ken Oatman for referring me to this printer. Nothing contained
herein originally appeared in the New York Press (well, except for
John at Premier Press offers his exper t
that little thing on page 75, but that’s not really the point).
opinion on the literary merit of Crank #6.
IF YOU DON’T LIKE IT, STOP DOING IT. NO ONE-AND I MEAN NO ONE-IS REQUIRED TO
DO ANYTHING. GRANTED, SOME EXITS ARE EXTREME, EVEN CRIMINAL; BUT THERE ARE,
NONETHELESS, EXITS. IF YOU’RE TOO AFRAID, THAT’S ANOTHER STORY. I CAN’T HELP THEN.
On behalf of the entity kn own as Crank, I would like to thank young
Marcy Gilbert and Amelia Peterson for donating their time to pose for
this issue’s cover illustration. Likewise, I would
like to thank their very liberal parents, Ms.
Laura Gilbert and Mr. & Mrs. Edwin
Petersen, for not filing charges after
seeing the rough sketches which
resulted from their daughters’
afternoon photo shoot with
us. Incidentally, Marcy
[left] was catching,
Amelia [right]
was pitching.
Each was paid
with a week’s
worth of Taco
Bell Kid’s Meals. A
boatload of credit goes to Dennis
McGee for changing Amelia’s gender at the last moment
[without requiring a new shoot with a male model!] when
Ms. Petersen expressed hesitation with the original
kiddie/lesbian concept. If you think this cover is disturbing,
you really should’ve seen my original idea.
2
#6
THE DEVIL AND I SHOOK. “IT’S A DEAL,” HE SAID.
“I’VE GOT A GOOD LAWYER,” I TOLD HIM, “SO DON’T YOU TRY TO BACK OUT.”
VANITY GRANDSTANDING . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 1
CREDIT WHERE CREDIT IS DUE . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 2
CRANK FOR IOWANS . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 4
HELP FOR THE REVIEWERS . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 5
VISCERALLANEOUS . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 6
AN OVERANALYSIS OF E.T. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 12
AN UNDERANALYSIS OF STAR TREK . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 14
MORE OF THE SAME . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 17
ANOTHER D&D REFERENCE . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 23
AN OVERANALYSIS OF ELVIS FILMS . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 24
AN UNDERANALYSIS OF ELVIS FILMS . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 28
CONDENSED ELVIS . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 32
TEEN BEAT . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 34
FINALLY! COLUMBO WORSHIP . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 36
OH, YOUTH . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 38
HOT XXX CENTERFOLD! . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 40
FOR THE EDITOR, A VACATION (OF SORTS) . . . . . . . . . . . . 43
YUCK YUCK . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 47
JEESH. S OME EGO THIS KOYEN GUY HAS . . . . . . . . . . . . 48
“FOUND” IDIOCY . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 50
JUST DON’T GET ME STARTED, PADRE . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 52
JEFF KOYEN: SCREENWRITER . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 54
TIPS FOR THAT INSANITY PLEA . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 57
CANDID CRANK CAMERA . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 61
BOOZE ’N’ MEDICINALS: WATCH OUT! . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 62
VITAMINS FOR DRUNKS . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 63
A CRANK BRAND OF CLOSURE . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 64
THAT PESKY HERESY SHIRT. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 66
DO IT RIGHT! L IKE A MAN . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 67
YOU CAN FORGET RENTING THESE . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 71
IT’S THE SMALL VICTORIES THAT COUNT . . . . . . . . . . . . . 75
YOU CAN BET YOUR ASS I’M UNLISTED . . . . . . . . . . . . . 76
MY FAVORITE CO-SPONSORED CREDIT CARDS . . . . . . . . . . 77
INDEX . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 79
NOTE THE NEW
MAILING ADDRESS!
NOTE THE NEW
WEB ADDRESS!
PO Box 633
Prince Street Station
NY NY 10012
www.crank.com
I TAKE RESPONSIBILITY FOR MY OWN ACTIONS. AND MY OWN MISTAKES. IF I WERE YOUNAMELY, A BELIEVER -I WOULD, AT THE VERY LEAST, EXPECT THE SAME FROM MY GOD.
Jeff Koyen
Does it all
[email protected]
Anti-crank PSA from Iowa, courtesy Donna Dedman, the first woman I’d contact if I were interested in starting my own little Manson-family-style cult.
4
#6
SUGGESTED QUIPS FOR
LAZY REVIEWERS
BACK ISSUES
Because there’s just never enough time and money to do everything, the first three issues of Crank are no
longer available. For the time being, your only means of accessing these gems is via the World Wide Web
(www.crank.com) where most of the content is intact. Issues #4 and #5 are still piled up in my closet—send
four bucks to the address at the left for your copy. (The extra buck over cover price is your penalty for being
ignorant to the Power of Crank when they were first released.)
CRANK #4
CRANK #5
$4 each postpaid • Cash to:
PO Box 633 • Prince Street Station • NY NY 10012
FOR THE TECH SAVVY: Would you be willing to pay $25-$30 for a CD-ROM compilation of all six issues of
Crank? Tentative plans call for a PC and Mac-compatible disc, rigged with all the bells and whistles one would
expect from an amateur CD-ROM (QT clips, audio, etc.) It would include everything from all six issues (a feature
the WWW version does not offer), sans advertisements, as well as a few other surprises. Please let me know
if I should bother. Provided there is enough interest, I will consider developing it in my copious spare time.
5
#6
Viscerallaneous
These letters arrived after my “Fish for Satan” shirt ad ran in a few pubs.
See page 66 for the latest version of the ad that inspired such foolery.
Received anonymously from Philadelphia. Figures.
6
#6
Thanks for the prayer, genius. Maybe you should save some of
those God points for yourself and ask the Great Oz for a brain.
Write Rick Smith at 41 Hawthorne Ave.
Sault Ste. Marie, Ontario / P6B1C6 Canada, Oh!
Also received anonymously.
Received from P.O. Box 37292 / Milwaukee, WI 53237
Please write Joy and tell her that you’ve asked Satan
to harm her and her dozen cats.
This came with my 1099-G
form from the State.
This went back to the State. The subject in question is a real-life asshole I once
knew who was killed in a freak industrial accident at the tender age of 23. Honest.
He was also a prick who deserved death, and I hope the grieving parents
who spawned him get hassled so much they need to consult a lawyer.
Pro:
This fellow actually offered to pay
for a subscription, rather than just
requesting a free copy like
everyone else.
Con:
This letter was sent to another
zine. Scott Riether of El Diablo
was kind enough to forward the
original letter (and envelope)
along to me.
Guess that Mail Merge didn’t quite
work right.
PS: I did get a full-page ad from
A&M, so I can’t really poke too
much fun. Thanks, guys!
7
#6
Viscerallaneous (continued)
I found this finery at a garage sale in
Connecticut while en route to an engagement
party. It was destiny—Amy and I had, just days
before, decided to get a dog; we had time to kill
before the party; the woman holding the garage
sale recently lost her own dog and was dumping
his doggie things.
So, for $5—chewed down from $9—I walked
away with a $15 dog bowl and this fine, fine
tapestry, which had served as the dead dog’s
blanket, judging from the layer of fur.
It now hangs proudly on our bedroom wall.
Our mutt sleeps on a dingy, old comforter.
Why I Quit My Job
“The Internal Memo”
To: All Employees
We’ve had complaints twice in the past 3 weeks about running out of toilet paper on the
6th Floor. Yet, all of you on the 6th floor sure must use it alot because we are now
TRACKING use. There is a growing suspicion that somebody is taking it home--so consider
this your warning--also to those on the other floors if you’re sneaking up/down there to
cover your tracks.
Why I Miss My Job
“The Other Internal Memo”
To: HILARY, ELLIE, KATE, MILLIE, RUTH, DANA, STACY, PAT, DIANE, LISA
Please dispose of napkins properly in the bathroom. I’m sure the men that empty the
garbage cares not to see.
To: [email protected]
After I subscribed and
got my first issue of
Crank, my house burned
down. Then, my car was
broken into, my guitars
were stolen and my wife's
jeep was totalled. Keep
up the good work.
Graham LeBron
Houston, TX
8
#6
From the September 10, 1996 edition of the Weekly World Booze.
See? SEE?! And to think of how they all laughed at me!
Congratulations to Chicago’s Lumpen
for being such dopes. In an issue earlier
this year, they stole my icon review
system which originally appeared in
Cranks 3-5. Almost to their credit, they
offered the following credit:
“P.S. A tit of the cat to Jeff Koyen of
CRANK! for putting it on paper first,
asshole.”
Right off the bat, they got the name
wrong. This is “Crank,” not “Crank!”
There really is a difference—the latter
is a science fiction pub, this is not.
Secondly, thanks for the ordering info
and the sincerity. And finally, rather
than take my initial work and elaborate
upon it, they simply duplicated my icon
system. See sample at right.
With all the kids working for Lumpen,
couldn’t they have pulled this off with
On the other hand, Cincinnati’s
Strength wisely asked for permission
to use the icon system ahead of time.
Even though Strength is a skate and
sports rag with very little in common
with Crank, I like them.
As for Lumpen? I’m still not sure
how I feel about those pinkos.
more class?
9
#6
Viscerallaneous (continued)
Poor, poor John Livingstone. Always looking for some publicity. Always looking for a rumble to keep his name alive. And, as much as I know that I shouldn’t
even acknowledge this, it’s my magazine. I pay for the printing, so I can waste as much space as I want.
See, in Crank #5, I featured a Word Find that incorporated all of the goofy sexual terms I could find in Nicholson Baker’s book,
The Fermata. My little piece may not have been Pulitzer material, but it was good for a few guffaws. In the opening editorial, I acknowledged that my Word Find
was inspired by one submitted by John Livingstone (of the Your Flesh knock-off, Insight.) Well, wouldn’t you know it? Livingstone—perhaps a little feisty after
having his Goofus & Gallant detournement stolen by Motorbooty—took offense and complained to me via e-mail. Among other things, he claimed the following:
“The word search you printed was a total clone of
the one in Insight, which I would have been cool
with had my name been somewhere near it (vain
huh?) or some credit or something. I read the bit
in the intro, but no, I never sent that to you. I
never got around to sending that. What I did was
told you what my plan was in some detail…”
Well, John, that’s just not true. You did send me
the Word Find, and it was intended as a
contribution to Crank. Remember? We’d spoken
about swapping contributions. But when I saw
how utterly stupid and juvenile your little gag
was, I called the whole thing off but quick. I
mean, come now: “poopitypoopitypee?”
“assynipple?” “caca?!” For Chrissakes, John—you
even repeated “suckle.” That’s pathetic.
Maybe you should stick to those Killdozer
interviews. Leave the satire to people who realize
that dirty words, in and of themselves, are not all
that funny or clever.
John’s original Word Find is reprinted at the right, complete
with his dopey, handwritten note in which he states that “the
work is done already.” PLEASE NOTE that this bit of brilliance is
copyright 1995, John Livingstone. Make no mistake—it’s his
intellectual property. He created it. He wrote it. It’s his work.
And furthermore, it appears here with his permission, regardless
of what he may claim after huffing too much WD-40. He
submitted it to Crank for publication. No question about it—
I’ve got an original.
Oh, it’s real alright. Taken from the Daily Record, a North Jersey local daily.
How’s that for bad karma in a previous life? Ouch.
10
#6
Planned Pizzahood
I don’t think I’ve ever seen a more inappropriate pairing of two establishments: Papa John’s Pizza and Planned Parenthood (Toledo, OH).
With abortion in mind, there are at least four examples of ironic juxtaposition:
1) The word “Papa” in “Papa John’s”
2) Papa John’s slogan: “Delivering the Perfect Pizza!”
3) Papa John’s current ad campaign: “Better Thin!”
4) The suspicious, hanger-like shape of Papa John’s logo:
And that’s not to mention the potential for “special red sauce” and “meat toppings” gags!
11
#6
THE END TIMES ARE NEAR!
Originally, I had planned to examine the character of E.T.,
from the movie of the same name, as a messiah figure. Well,
howdy-do to you too—no shit it’s an obvious conclusion, any
high school AP English student would say the same thing. But
have you—as an adult—ever watched the movie, start-tofinish, consciously looking for Christian allusions as you wipe
the tears from your eyes? Well, I did, and I’ve got news for
you—Spielberg’s E.T. is more than simple messianic musing,
more than just another interpretation of the Jesus myth. It’s a
goddamned message, I’m telling you!
With E.T., Steven Spielberg is more than just yanking at
your heartstrings. Not only does he evoke sympathy for E.T. by
positioning him as a postmodern martyr, but the little stubby
alien is, in reality, being offered up as quite the opposite to
the more cynical viewers who are intelligent enough to see
through all the Hollywood claptrap. And it all kind of makes
sense, seen from a greater perspective: why would Spielberg, a
Jew, want to perpetuate the crucified martyr as a sympathetic
character? Granted, he was obviously cashing in at the expense
of this mind-numbingly-gullible culture, but he’s got to know
that there’s no need for any more Christian dogma hidden
underneath paper-thin layers of modern drama. After all, that’s
what the Family Channel is all about.
No. Spielberg has another message for us. The play-by-play
of the film on the next page lists all the Christian references I
could find in the film; some are quite surprising, more subtle
than I’d expected. That’s the easy part. Now, pay special
attention to the citations in bold—these indicate the scenes
which occur at the 6:66 interval (7 minutes, 6 seconds). Each
of these scenes is pivotal and central to advancing the plot—
the entire tale of E.T. is told during the 6:66 scenes. That’s
right—take those bits, throw out the rest, and you’ve got the
whole picture. Is this just an accident? Coincidence? Hindsight
of the obsessive?? Hell no. Modern moviemaking is too
exacting to allow for such a precise mathematical structure to
occur unintentionally. In fact, I had a friend at MIT use their
supercomputer to calculate the odds of something like this
happening by accident: 4.57 billion to one!!
Spielberg is telling us that the E.T., or the “alien” by his ’90s
fashionable name, will soon be embraced as the second coming
of the messiah, but will ultimately reveal himself to be the
Antichrist!
The evidence is plain as day. Spread the word. And, of
course, watch the skies.
Illustration by the mighty DB Velveeda. For more information about his work, send an SASE to
PO Box 488, 1573 N. Milwaukee Ave., Chicago, IL 60622, or contact him via email at [email protected]
12
#6
7:06
E.T. is abandoned. Sadly, he watches his pals
hightail it away from Earth.
1:04:24
E.T. performs third miracle: rides bike on air
[water walk].
8:54
Elliott’s brother’s friend says: “Everything but the
little fishies.” A reference to the Christian fish,
perhaps?
1:07:23
The G-men [Romans] move in.
1:11:00
E.T. calls home.
10:07
A full moon [Star of Jerusalem] lights the way.
1:12:30
Mary kneels in front of Elliott.
10:16
Elliott approaches the shed [manger] where E.T. is
hiding.
1:12:47
Mary genuflects in front of Elliott.
11:15
Six people approach the manger as three distinct
units (Elliott, Mom, brother & friends).
1:18:06
The G-Men capture E.T.
1:21:48
Elliott shown with crown of electrodes.
12:53
Elliott approaches manger for third time.
1:22:47
“His being here is a miracle. It’s a miracle.”
14:12
Elliott sees E.T. for the first time.
1:25:12
E.T. begins to die.
17:20
We learn that the family’s father is “in Mexico with
Sally,” suggesting an Immaculate Conception.
1:28:48
E.T. dies at 15:36, or 3:36 pm. Lots of 3’s and 6’s in
that number, no?
21:18
E.T. is shown in the house.
1:30:13
E.T. is entombed.
28:24
Elliott shows E.T. his toys.
35:30
Kids make pact to hide E.T. from the grown-ups.
1:32:18
Elliott visits E.T. in his tomb.
35:48
The mother’s name is revealed to be Mary when th e
young Drew Barrymore gratuitously refers to her by
the first name.
1:32:48
“I’ll believe in you all my life. Every day.”
Suspiciously apostletic.
1:32:36
E.T. is resurrected.
40:43
First miracle: revives dying flowers.
1:35:03
Elliott begins to preach that E.T. is alive.
42:36
E.T. escapes detection by Mother.
49:19
During the pre-dissection frog revolt, Elliott’s classmate assumes a stigmata pose while a plague of
frogs assaults her.
49:42
E.T. and Elliott’s synergy/equivalence is fully
established, setting the stage for subsequent
cross-character references (see 1:12:47, 1:21:48 as
example).
1:38:43/1:38:57
E.T. emerges, Christlike, from the back of the van.
1:39:24
The kids take E.T. to rendezvous with spaceship.
1:42:60
E.T. performs fourth miracle: lifts the gang and their
bikes into the air.
1:46:30
E.T. & Elliott say goodbye. Mom goes down to her
knees.
1:47:41
E.T. declares “I’ll be right here,” pointing to Elliott’s
head, thus ensuring that the Gospel will be spread.
56:48
Elliott and Michael gather parts for E.T.’s phone.
58:22
The infamous Sistine Chapel finger-touching scene.
59:23
E.T. performs second miracle: heals Elliott’s boo-boo
[laying of hands].
1:49:18
The Ascension: E.T. departs.
Elliott brings E.T. to set up his phone.
1:53:36
Close of credits.
1:03:54
Note: the Reese’s Pieces are an obvious allusion to the joke
where Jesus can’t eat M&Ms because they keep falling through
the holes in his hands. (M&Ms were originally slated for the
tie-in—and, in fact, are written into the E.T. Storybook—but
Reese’s came in with more money. (Or, depending on which
rumor you believe, M&Ms jumped ship after reading the script,
fearing a box office bomb. Whatever.) Same joke; different
candy filling.)
By the way, did anyone know that Jim Carroll’s People Who
Died is listed in the closing credits?
Christ, from a painting entitled
The Holy Heart of Jesus
Christ, in disguise, flashing a
postmodern Holy Heart
NEXT ISSUE! Spielberg’s disgrace in his debut feature, JEWS, a
morality tale about those money-hungry, media-controlling
sharks. Why else do you think he made Schindler’s List, if not
as a token of remorse to the Tribe?
13
#6
“HOW
ABOUT THAT
ANTI-SEMITISM
IN STAR TREK?”
DON FREW ASKS:
Editor’s Note: While Don Frew states, for the record, that he does not believe Gene Roddenberry consciously set out to depict the Jews in such an
unfavorable light, he does think it is important for Star Trek viewers to understand the stereotypes that are being reinforced by these characters.
After speaking at length with a friend about the visible presence of religion in the sci-fi TV series Babylon 5—as
opposed to the more secular Star Trek universe—I began wondering what happened to the Jews in Gene
Roddenberry’s vision of the future. First, I dismissed the question—after all, plenty of cultures and religions are
noticeably absent from Star Trek. But the more I
thought about it, the more I realized that Jews are
KEY POINTS ABOUT THE FERENGI:
(SEE NOTES, PG. 16)
present in Star Trek in the form of the Ferengi, everyone’s favorite greedy schemesters. And I was shocked
to realize that the Ferengi fulfill just about every
stereotype attributed to the Jews by Nazis.
S h o rt, swarthy and shifty-eyed
Noted for their over-sized facial feature s 1
Walk with a bent-over, loping gait 2
Widely known as crafty and cunning, rather than intelligent
All males wear distinctive headgear 3
A wandering group of people 4
G reedy and untru s t w o rt h y, obsessed with the accumulation of
m e rcantile pro f i t5
M e rchants, money-lenders and tavern - k e e p e r s6
Follow an explicit, multi-point plan
for the advancement of their group,
generally at the expense of others 7
Males lust after “human” women 8
Repeatedly attempt to ingratiate
themselves into “human”
society through flattery and bribes
Suspected of cannibalism 9
This article originally appeared (in a slightly different form) in
Hungry Freaks #3. Send $3.95 (oh, just round up to four bucks)
for one issue to PO Box 20835, Oakland, CA 94620.
Or,
write [email protected] for more information.
14
#6
They are portrayed as a threat to “our”
society, but this threat is not very credible
and used primarily as an excuse to oppress and
discriminate against them. 1 0
Evil Jew, according to the Nazi propagandists
Evil Jew, according to the Star Trek braintrust
FURTHERMORE:
• The Ferengi are governed by a council of elders which is headed by “the Nagus.” In Jewish history, the head of a clan or
tribe, the head of the Sanhedrin and the President of the current state of Israel have all been referred to as “the Nasi.”
• The producers have almost exclusively cast Jewish actors as Ferengi.
• The Ferengi are outsiders in Federation space. They are distrusted and, in many instances, hated. Jews, for their part,
have endured much of the same treatment, especially at the hands of Arabs. THE ARABIC WORD FOR
“FOREIGNER” IS “AL-FERENGI.”
15
#6
“HOW ABOUT THAT
ANTI-SEMITISM IN STAR TREK?”
Notes:
1
The Ferengi ears are referred to as “lobes”
presented as proof that Jews were intent
and are often substituted for “nose” in
on world domination at the expense of
cliches such as “he has lobes for
everyone else.
business.” Therefore, the oversized
This multi-point plan advocates lying,
feature = lobes = nose.
2
seduction and murder in the name of the
This original characterization of the
Jewish people. Similarly, the Ferengi
Ferengi was abandoned in later
“Rules of Acquisition” provides an
depictions. Note that Jews were
extensive multi-point plan for the
described as having a similar gait in
advancement of the race. Some of the
order to reinforce their depiction as a
tenets are: 1) Once you have their
beastly people.
3
money, never give it back; 10) Greed is
With the exception of Quark, the most
eternal; 21)Never place friendship above
widely known Ferengi character, all other
profit; 34) Peace is good for business;
males seem to wear a head wrap.
4
35) War is good for business; 60) Keep
The introduction of a Ferengi homeworld
your lies consistent; 266) When in
is a recent development. Original
doubt, lie.
descriptions of the race listed them as
wanderers forced to leave their homeland
8
due to resource depletion.
5
Refer to the Nazi propaganda film Jud
Süss which describes the Jewish man’s
This has always been a part of the
infamous lust for the Gentile woman.
European stereotype of the “evil Jew,” but
the acquisition of “profit” has never
9
According to Star Trek: The Next
included the acquisition of land. In many
Generation Officer’s Manual,background
countries, Jews have been forbidden to
notes for the Ferengi include mention of
own land.
their sharp teeth, which prompted
A common belief among many
“speculation among Federation [experts]
contemporary Jews, especially Holocaust
that the Ferengi may practice a form of
survivors, is that it is unwise to put one’s
cannibalism, though no proof of this
wealth into land. You can be driven off of
practice exists.” Commander Riker
land; wealth in portable form can be
referred to this in the pilot episode for
taken with you. While the Ferengi
6
definitely pursue “mercantile profit,” they
Next Generation(“Encounter at
are never portrayed as acquiring land
Farpoint”) noting that the Ferengi are
(e.g. planets).
rumored to eat their business partners.
In A Lie and a Libel,Binjamin Segal noted
For centuries, a popular European
that “the great majority [of European
folklore said that Jews used the blood of
Jews] pursued marginal, ‘obnoxious’
Christian children to make the Passover
occupations, such as moneylending,
matzoh, leading to countless Passover
peddling, rent collection, and tavern
panics and lynchings.
keeping.” The only other occupation
attributed to a Ferengi is that of the
7
10
The “Jewish Threat” is an oft-repeated
military.
attempt to portray successful Jews as
The Protocols of the Learned Elders of
the reason for everyone else’s
Zion, fabricated by the Okhrana, the
misfortune. A common practice
Russian Czar’s secret police, was
throughout the centuries.
16 #6
Y
A TRINIT
OF
WOE
OR,
MORE OF THE SAME
EDITORIAL INDULGENCE
PRESENTED IN A GRATUITOUS
THREE-PART STRUCTURE
GOING TO HELL IN A GLASS-BOTTOMED BOAT
It’s a just-so drunk, carefully crafted with the sure hand of experience.
No better feeling in the world than to be getting that guilt for being up too late with
too many empty cans or glasses next to you; work is only six hours away and you’ll probably not sober up in time, probably not sober up for lunchtime, in fact.
But then you go into the kitchen for another drink and see that the clock on the
microwave claims it’s an hour earlier than your bedside clock. So you grab the phone,
call 4-1-1 for the Time Line, but the operator is kind and gives you the correct time so
you don’t have to pay for another call, not to mention that the dialing itself is murderous under a night’s drinks. And you find it really is an hour earlier than you thought it
17
#6
was and now you have seven hours until work. Or one more hour
It’s shameful, innit.
to waste and break even, depending on how you look at it.
Amy’s in the bedroom, exercising. It relieves her frustration,
So you grab two drinks and get back in bed, turn the TV back
on and laugh at your mixed fortune.
keeps her in great shape. Better shape that me, that’s for sure.
She’s got a tight belly, shapely legs, thin face. Me? I sit at the desk,
pull a last bit off the last bottle of beer in the apartment. Some
porter, left over from a friend’s visit last night. Get up, swing
I want the words to carry at least the force they had when I
typed them. I’m on my third keyboard in two years—I must pound
around to the in-house bar and grab the Bombay. To save trips, I
go into the kitchen and mix a triple in my favorite pint glass.
the keys too hard. It’s either the shakes causing me to focus more
I’m keeping my weight, I guess, but getting soft around the
intently, or a subconscious desire to lend these words a little extra
middle. I watch what I eat, generally, but the liquor throws a
energy which might survive the printing process.
wrench. I’m convinced that if I could, I should stop drinking for a
Nothing retains its energy of course. Energy is lost to ineffi-
month, start running each morning, and I’d lose ten pounds right
ciency and friction, to the environment. Everything loses its off the bat. Slim down a bit, feel good, and then ease back into
motion, its direction. Words—and thoughts, intents—are even that drinking life. Keep the good habits and re-introduce the bad
more susceptible, I’d say. And these words are no exception— ones, slowly. If I could.
everything obeys this law. Every single thing.
I think that’s why I hit the keys so hard. I’m trying to give the
I mean, Christ, I ain’t giving it up whole hog. That, at least,
should be crystal clear to all concerned.
words that extra leg up. An extra advantage, no matter how subtle or indistinct. It doesn’t work, naturally. You can’t bend these
rules.
Lately, I’ve grown wary of the long-term damage I’ve inflicted
So I’m stuck relying on the readers’ intelligence and discerning on myself. This past year, perhaps more than any other, has been
taste. Talk about your fucking pipe dreams.
more physiologically damning than any other. One would assume
that my time in Philadelphia, living with a like-minded bottomfeeder, would’ve marked my peak in self-destruction. Not so. This
I was an engineering student for a short time. Two years short. past year, with its late, drunken weeknights, frustration-filled
I’m good with math and figured that technical work would be good
weekdays and take-out diet, has aged me twicefold, I think. And,
for me, would be quantifiable, understandable, predictable. Well, occasionally, I worry.
things didn’t work out that way. When, way back in 1989, I final-
An example: two days of drink. Nothing ridiculous like 10 a.m.
ly admitted that a shirt-and-tie, logical life wasn’t my proper liquor; I’m talking about six hours each evening working toward a
place, that’s when I dropped the engineering curriculum, changed pleasant stupor. A mere two days; two nights, really; it’s a mild
my mindset, and re-emerged as an adult, more aggressive in tak-
example. That next morning, sitting at the desk, working, I spill
ing charge, finally understanding that my own life is my own
my coffee all over. I usually knock it right over when reaching for
responsibility and just fuck everyone else who tries to impede that. the mug. Sometimes I drop it, mid-sip. But every day, every fuckI kept taking Physics classes, though. (In fact, I graduated with ing day, I spill something. I think I’ve spilled more coffee on my
a concentration in Astrophysics—I once knew how to calculate
desk, and on myself, in the last four months than most people spill
planetary paths and the masses of stars based on their spectrum.
in four years.
Not any more.) And I’m still pretty good with numbers. Pretty
I’m not really talking about those infamous “shakes.” My hands
good; not great. However, I do maintain that quantification is still do shake, but my weak grip is the culprit. My depth perception
a good paradigm for existing in this world.
I often need a calculator for simple math.
isn’t right, either. All these things. And I spill my coffee. Or a glass
of water. Laughable as it may sound, I’ve taken to drinking from a
non-spill commuter mug at my desk. And I keep knocking that
over as well.
But for the grace of god, there’s nothing quite like liquor. Keep
It might be time to make drinking a part-time job. As I’ve said
your drugs to yourself; all that crap is just window dressing for a
before, if I make it to 30, I’ll make it to 80. And it’s looking—much
would-be crazy lifestyle. Always have a few bottles of beer, a bot- to my own genuine surprise—that 30 might win.
tle of cheap wine, and a pot of coffee on hand—even if it’s yes-
And I don’t want to be a wreck at 40. If I’m signing on for 50
terday morning’s sitting in the fridge—and every mood can be
more years, this pre-corpse had best be relatively pain free. This
yours.
goddamn soul is burden enough; I don’t need my fucking motor
functions giving me grief as well.
18
#6
FROM DEADLINES TO BREADLINES
I will not be beaten down. And that’s why I quit my job.
The day I quit, it should’ve been raining. As some would note, the sky was pregnant with rain; my very soul would have been soaked by the downpour not two minutes out of the building. But it wasn’t raining. Just threatening.
And conversely, I was done threatening. I was quitting.
It was, really, a good job. An opportunity for some ambitious type to take over
a mid-sized ad agency. And it paid well—I was making more money than I’ve ever
thought possible (not six figures, or anything ridiculous like that—think more
realistically). The downsides: the company specializes in Direct Mail (read: big
money junk mail); the owner is a manic-depressive megalomaniac; and the feudalist gulf between management and staff made cooperation a function of constant antagonism.
I’d waltzed in as the Studio Manager, hired to manage a few designers, offer tech
support and lend prepress expertise. To each side, a dozen account executives
attacked all day long, each acting in their clients’ best interests. Deadlines were
short, customers were revered, and everyone thought the art department played all
day on their computers.
Did I want respect? Oh, you’ve got to be kidding—at a day job? Never. Don’t
expect it. Compensation? Ditto. But, free time? Energy at the end of the day? Drive?
Potential? Surplus capability? A little potential left in these bones at the end of a
nine-to-five? That, friends, is more important than the money, than the respectable
entry on a resume. And that’s why, on my one-year anniversary, I decided that
Agency Life was not for me.
I am, really, polite and accommodating to a fault. But I am prone to explosive
outbursts. One of my designers, Lisa, once said that I wear my heart on my sleeve.
I knew what she meant, of course, but her choice of words implied that I am the
type to pine and moan when, contrarily, I am actually the type to let my disappointment, anger and frustration pour out of my eyes. That’s just not a trait valued
by many Human Resource departments.
Nonetheless, I did have a promising career, despite the head-to-head clashes with
the owner, a Napoleonic demon, himself prone to explosive (and demeaning) outbursts. Our relationship rode a sine curve, cresting with mutual respect and bottoming out with absolute hatred. Intolerance. Spit-on-the-floor and scream in your
face disgust.
Privately, I think the bossman was relieved when I resigned. Though I don’t think
he ever would’ve had the balls to fire me—after all, I had the utility if not humility—I do think my days were quietly numbered. He and I were racing, each trying
to break the other; and I won by acting first. (To think of it, though, we both won,
really. I walked out proud; he got rid of me without a fistfight, which had, honestly, almost occurred twice in the past.)
19
#6
Professionally,
I
was
raised by typographers and
At the time, the agency occupied four floors of a
mostly residential building a few blocks south of Central
Park. The apartment-like setting lent the company a
casual attitude, which suited me perfectly (though I was
sent home one day for wearing shorts, boots and a tshirt; a client was coming in for a quick tour, and my
dress was inappropriate for the Studio Manager.) We had
windows that opened and even a couch, but no separate
offices to speak of. No closed doors, no sound buffers.
So, my occasional explosive outbursts were witnessed—
aurally if not visually—by much of the company. And,
in case you never guessed, my language tends to be
quite vulgar, especially when I’m being explosive.
Everything was fine. Fine enough: tension with the
boss, dislike for the work, the usual day job fodder.
Then, late in 1995, we were acquired by a Chicago
agency. Larger, more formal, bigger accounts. We were
acquired as their New York office, specializing in direct
mail. And while the arrival of the new overlords was fair-
printers. And all you goddamn designers should do
the same: work in a type
shop, work in a quick-print
shop. You’ll learn more in
two months about the practical constraints on your precious imaginations than you
ever will in a four-year art
school, where the instructors
haven’t ever seen—and felt,
fucking felt in their gut—a
five thousand dollar print
job get tossed into the recycling bin because of a bad
trap.
Agency life is for chumps.
Apologies to my former
co-workers, of course.
ly smooth, I knew, without a doubt, that my duties
would slowly shift away from hands-on support work to
administrative, trafficking work. I would, inevitably, see
my beautiful Mac, packed with all the requisite power
for preflighting and print production, passed over to
some designer who wouldn’t appreciate it. In exchange,
I’d be given a hand-me-down SI, perfect for word processing and media planning.
Fuck that. Give me production. Give me dim lights.
So I waited for my bonus. I choked back the frustration, played the role of company man, worked until
nine, ten, midnight; once until three in the morning. All
for a goddamn business I hate. A business I despise. I
took that bonus. Paid off my credit cards. Settled every
outstanding bill on my desk. Then I saved enough to
print this issue plus two months’ rent. Then, I quit.
Decent equipment in bad quarters. Smoke-stained managers in K-Mart suits and a delivery van painted with
fresh primer each Spring. Fuck agency life and all its
urbane illusions—take me back to the warehouse where
I can be alone and be judged by the volume and quality
of my output.
As of May 13, 1996, I’ve been paying the rent by whoring out my production skills. You’d be surprised how
many people don’t know shit about printing, though
they claim to be competent designers and Macintosh
experts. Shit. I do anything. Some of my weekly billing
comes from typesetting catalogs and directories. I sit in
I don’t want to be in the advertising industry. So I left
it. Now, I provide services to that industry. Mostly production-oriented design.
My home/office system is assembled from scavenged
parts: a SyQuest from here, a scanner from there. Add
that chunk of RAM, a couple gig drives, and I’ve got a
better setup than most glossies. See, at heart, I’m a production hack, a Mac monkey for hire. I’m not a design-
my apartment and format medical directories two days a
week. Then, I have the other five days free. Or, take this
past summer, for example: I was flooded with work from
one client. I worked for six weeks straight—weekends,
weeknights, everything—and ended up with a ten grand
profit. So I took three weeks off in September, which is
when I finally got to work on this issue of Crank.
Let’s hope it continues to work out.
er. Just because I know Quark like it’s an extra limb, and
I’ve got a scanner and printer, that doesn’t make me a
designer.
20 #6
Here is a man… Who would not be beaten down.
THE TOWN PUMP
There are models; there are Supermodels. There are zines, and there are Superzines.
I’m a tenant in this body, and I’ve already forgotten the previous leaseholders. I
sometimes see their faces in the few photos I’ve kept; there’s bound to be hundreds
more—each would be more alien to me than the next—stuck in ex-friends’ and exlovers’ photo albums that supplement their memories like cheatsheets.
Without help from the few photos I’ve kept, I don’t remember much; all the memories went out with the previous occupants. And whatever was behind went out
with the trash; not one of them left a forwarding address. Most likely, they’re all
dead; they are to me, that’s for sure. But if not, then they live only in the recollections of former friends on their drunken nights of reminisce.
They live rarely, I’d wager.
Cold beer in a hot shower on a Saturday night. Few things are more satisfying.
I’ve repeatedly emerged, locust-like, from the corpses of previous lives. Out of the
shell, I’ll settle the bill, answer for any outstanding sins, okay, but then I move on,
washing my claws of the blood of everyone who stood in my way. Or, as the case
may be, I wash my hands of my own blood, seeing as I’ve often left myself gutted
open and emptied of flawed emotions, in the interest of growth. See, at heart, I
really am a mean, ruthless motherfucker; it just doesn’t show much. I confine my
hostility to dreams of vindication on the page.
My mistake, it seems, has been in targeting myself before everyone else. Someday,
I keep saying. Someday… I just haven’t hit my stride yet.
My aging is tempered with the expectation of having more ahead than what’s
already been left behind. When the scale tips, expect me to turn in my key and
check out.
There’s plenty of things worth forgetting. And I’ve shuffled them all off; off to a
graveyard of regret and embarrassment. Of times with friends’ girlfriends and mistaken words and misfired emotions. Remorse is something I live with too often;
oddly, it’s usually unfounded.
Not many things manage to travel with me life-to-life. A few friends and a few
notable objects, but not much more. If it happens one more time, you’ll never see
me nor hear from me again. No one will. Promise.
The television flickers in a tidal pitch of color-coded imagery while a special kind
of rot eats through my heart, fed by liquor, coffee and time.
21
#6
I spent a little time as a parasite in other people’s lives; minimal ambition always leads to the easy slide. Not a unique experience in the business, but it
sure beats the demands of originality. I spent some time in that world; drinking their liquor, saving cash on their Guest Lists, eating free meals. I paid my
rent, worked a crappy job, wrote some crappy words and figured I’d either die, or be discovered, or find a job I liked, or just wander away, someday.
It was time to go, once again, so I went. Didn’t go very far; just around the corner to a main thoroughfare where my lackluster ambitions might take root.
With the exception of the voices in my head, everyone around me seems to have forgotten how to talk about anything other than the weather and last
night’s game; they’ve forgotten how to curse the world around them. That’s a shame. For them.
EEK! MASHER!!
The willingness to hurt myself is my only thing I fear at this point. Don’t get me
wrong—I’m quite happy; happier than I’ve ever been before. My life is satisfying;
my love is real. My struggle for achievement is progressing slowly, as it should.
But there’s an element of self-defeat alongside my ambitious soul. Not selfdoubt, no. It’s more akin to self-destruction, but doesn’t carry quite the same
drama, not quite the same self-glorification. It’s more a slow, passive self-infliction
of minor damages, not a grandiose, public immolation by way of tightrope risk.
Short-lived, painful would-be glory is right for some, attention-seeking martyrdom
is right for others.
Somehow, I languish in between.
22
#6
THE TRUTH ABOUT
SELF-RIGHTEOUS
CHRISTIAN CONVERTS
This gem arrived at my home mailbox. Why not the post office box? Because this came from
my sister. And to think—she’s never even read Crank. Yet for some reason, she felt compelled
to send me this book, to help me find salvation from a game I played thirteen years ago.
And, for the record, I credit D&D with helping me survive an otherwise untolerable suburban
existence.
I have nothing from which to be delivered. Thanks anyway.
23
#6
THE KING…
…OF CELLULOID
A COMPREHENSIVE GUIDE
TO THE FILMS OF ELVIS PRESLEY
BY
BY JEREMY
EREMY
BBRADDOCK
RADDOCK
published Last Train to Memphis—the first installment of what
evidently will become a multi-volume biography of Elvis Presley. The book tells
m
meaningful work, in Elvis’ case, entail his making of no less than thirty-three
movies in the space of just fifteen years. It should be clear, then, that these
the story of Elvis’ rise to fame from his high school days through his early
recordings and performances, his electrifying first television performance, the
recording of his best music and production of his first three movies, the effective
films are not only important to Elvis, but that Elvis himself was important to
films. The generic consistency of such films is unmatched by anyone before or
since, and the only person who can even hope to match it would be Tom
disillusion of his superb band, the death of his mother and finally his enlisting
in the army. What is particularly masterful is the way Guralnick develops a
Hanks—but does he have the stamina? The following guide is intended to
facilitate your own inquiry into this work. What your faithful reporter found was
parallel plot in which Elvis quickly loses control of every significant aspect of his
life, and almost without his knowing it. Because of this, the story closes on an
almost unbearably melancholy note, particularly sad for everyone who knows that
a surprisingly consistent narrative in which the perceived myth of Elvis Presley as
a dangerous and creative genius/product was initially employed in the first half
dozen movies, and was gradually replaced by a reified Elvis.™ This later image is
the King’s moments of achievement (and probably, for that matter, happiness)
had for the most part already occurred.
the character most often associated with the films—an Elvis of sound voice and
humble aspirations, irresistible to women, good with children, docile and
It is clear that, in recent years especially, a sharp barricade has been
constructed at exactly this moment in Elvis mythology. Elvis’ post-army career, in
particular the Elvis of the post-’68 comeback special, labors under the weight
subservient to authority. The majority of the mid-’60s in which this Elvis appears
is unsurprisingly uniform, but with striking innovations. Towards the end of his
career (just before he assumed his mantle as Vegas Entertainer), the films
(first) of an industry producing artifacts of kitsch, the most outrageous of which
can be purchased not on Elvis Presley Boulevard in Memphis, but at stores like
become demented experiments in reviving his career. A number of themes can be
found in the films, from the early frustrated rebel pic (a deliberate James Dean
Little Rickie in New York City (whose clientele are surely more religiously devoted
to this iconography than it realizes). This culture mean-spiritedly celebrates the
still-potent myth of Elvis as an obscene, powerful and inhuman artifact—
rip-off), to the middle period travelogues (of which Viva Las Vegas is exemplary),
to the rags to riches, to the alreadyrich-but-she-must-love-me-for-who-I-am
identified with capes, karate moves, varieties of fried sandwiches, diet pills and a
death appropriate to all these facts, striking him down as he sat on the shitter. It
story. There is almost no element that
is not repeated in Elvis movies: he is
is important to note that there is more than a little bit of a superior attitude and,
one could say, hatred of the so-called “white trash” culture which often really
does hold the later Elvis not as an artifact, but as a very special person indeed.
a race car driver in three movies,
a millionaire son in two, a sailor
in three, (famously) an American
On the earlier side of this chronological divide, a great deal of recuperation
of Elvis, this time for the rock and roll aesthete, has been done in the last ten
Indian in two movies, and he kills
people in six of his films.
years. At the forefront of this project is the hardly less mythological writing of
Greil Marcus, which finds in the Elvis of the Sun Sessions evidence of the innate
genius and rebellion that participates in the great movements of cultural history,
The following is a guide to those
who are interested in investigating the
cinematic domestication of the King of Celluloid, Elvis Presley.
usic lovers, students of popular culture, and Elvis fans especially
had great reason to celebrate in 1994, when Peter Guralnick
much to be learned from a more careful consideration of it.
The years during which most artists would be expected to produce their most
from Dada poetry to Berkeley 1964. It makes for compelling reading,
but this attitude willfully ignores the majority of his career, and there is surely
24
#6
TO
MR. BRADDOCK PUBLISHES VERBIVORE.
$3 CASH TO 532 LA GUARDIA PLACE, #573, NYC 10012
ORDER A COPY, SEND
1. LOVE ME TENDER
(20th Century Fox, November 1956), directed by Robert D. Webb;
with Deborah Paget, Robert Egan.
in a deserted cemetery. Rather than situating this
self-naming as an act of empowerment, it is given
as tragedy and melodrama, and on the meta-tex-
This first of Elvis Presley’s films is in many ways
the least representative. It not only fails to incorporate any elements of Elvis cultural mythology,
but flat-out contradicts Presley’s own biography.
To wit, the film’s post-civil war plot is motivated
tual level the film reinforces it by wrapping up the
film with a live performance that includes Elvis’
real parents in the audience. Loving You, therefore, inevitably leaves us regretting that Elvis himself neither stood up to his own manager, nor rec-
by Clint Reno’s (Elvis Presley) marriage to Cathy
ognized the power one can have in constructing
(Ms. Paget), who had been the betrothed of his
one’s own identity.
elder brother (Mr. Egan)—now believed to be
dead. In reality, of course, Elvis’ own twin brother
3. JAILHOUSE ROCK
died during childbirth, and so there is a slightly
(MGM, October 1957), directed by Richard Thorpe, with Mickey
Shaughnessy, Judy Tyler, Dean Jones, Vaughn Taylor.
uncanny quality to the film, but more than that,
it’s just confusing. Confused also is Presley himself, who finds himself being the only person
involved in the movie who feels compelled to
make any concession to acting in it. Presley dies a
tragic death at the end of the film, and this was
seen as being so potentially disturbing to
American film-goers, that at the last minute a
ghostly image of Elvis’ head was superimposed
over the closing credits, singing the title song that
went to number one with a bullet.
Jailhouse Rock is considered by many to be the
greatest of all Elvis movies, and why not? An
enthusiastic (for once) supporting cast, sensation al Leiber-Stoller soundtrack, and balls-out performance by the King (so much so that in the
famous title number, Elvis accidentally knocked
out one of his teeth, and swallowed it) ensure
that this film never slows, and it’s one of the few
films that’s enjoyable on its own.
The formula is roughly the same as that found in
Loving You, with some nifty twists. At the start of
2. LOVING YOU
the film, Vince Everett (Elvis Presley) accidentally
(Paramount, July 1957), directed by Hal Kantor; with Lizabeth
Scott, Wendell Corey, Dolores Hart.
(?) kills a guy in a barroom brawl, and is duly sent
Loving You is the story of the rise from humble
house he learns a few chords from his cellmate,
beginnings to pop music stardom of Deke Rivers
Hunk (Mr. Shaughnessy), who offers to split his
to the slammer to meditate on his sins. In the big
(Elvis Presley), and as such it sets the important
future fortune 50/50. The character of Hunk plays
precedent of staging the Elvis myth on the silver
an interesting role in this respect, for not only
screen. With the exception of the revolting G.I.
was the Colonel later to force this exact same
Blues, each of the King’s next five films will deal
deal on Elvis (see Clambake), but when Hunk gets
with the image of an Elvis whose enormous talent
sprung from the joint, Elvis pays him in effect to
propels him to the top. But his creative energy
be his friend. This is, again, what Elvis would
contains a dangerously violent streak, and it is
soon be forced to do in real life, since he could no
crucial that he ground his success in the people
longer leave Graceland without being molested by
who love him. Any Presley devotee will immedi-
the public.
ately be struck by the irony that it is Elvis’ creativ-
When the King becomes a free man, his talent is
ity in reality, and must be grounded in Hollywood.
quickly recognized by Peggy (Judy Tyler), who
Nevertheless, Loving You is a respectable staging
uses his unruly temperament to take him straight
of the Elvis myth, complete with a fine sound-
to the top. In a particularly memorable scene, she
track. In the opening sequence Elvis jumps on
takes him to a party of aging racist jazz aesthetes
stage with a traveling band (happily including
(who, natch, are conspicuously not discussing a
Scotty Moore and Bill Black), whose fortunes sub-
Black musician, but Dave Brubeck). One egregious
sequently improve considerably. The jumbo
old biddy approaches the King, saying “I think
Gibson J-200 guitar for which the King was
atonality is just a passing phase in jazz music.
already famous is presented to him by the sweet-
What do you think Mr. Everett?” “Lady, I don’t
as-pie Susan (Dolores Hart), and the combo is
know what the hell you talking about,” replies
soon discovered by Glenda (Lizabeth Scott), a
Elvis, who storms out of the house.
shrewd promoter. Elvis finds himself getting big
In a sense, Jailhouse Rock suffers from Purple
much too fast, and his success is met with large
Rain syndrome—Elvis’ music is meant to be
anti-Deke Rivers (anti-Elvis) demonstrations, while
steadily improving, but in fact it is spectacular
also getting into a couple of spectacularly violent
throughout. Subtlety, however, is hardly the point,
brawls along the way. The clever twist in the plot
and the most credible thing about this film is that
occurs when Elvis stands up to his self-serving
his conversion to family values at the end is com-
promoter, revealing that he is in fact an orphan
pletely unbelievable. As the King says to Peggy,
who chose his own name from a lonely tombstone
“That ain’t tactics, honey, it’s just the beast in me.”
25
#6
“LIKE MOST
OTHER PEOPLE
MY AGE…
ELVIS MATTERED
TO ME IN THE
FIFTIES; I LOVED
HIS MUSIC,
BOUGHT SOME
OF HIS RECORDS,
AND NEVER
WENT TO ANY OF
HIS MOVIES.”
—GREIL MARCUS,
DEAD ELVIS
incompetent father, Elvis neglects his studies to earn money
5. G.I. BLUES
singing at sleazy New Orleans establishments. He is drawn
(Paramount, October 1960), directed by Norman Taurog; with Juliet Prowse.
into a web of big movie crime and big movie violence (headed
Because of Elvis’ military service, the gap between King
by Walter Matthau??), and this draws him further and further
Creole and G.I. Blues is the longest between any two of Elvis’
away from family values and the sweet little gal at the five
movies. That commitment is celebrated in the latter film,
and dime. Despite the uninspiring plot, the King turns in
which, by recasting Elvis’ army years as a carefree time of
another sparkling performance, bolstered by an enthusiastic
shenanigans, begins to re-center the myth of Elvis from libidi-
supporting cast and another great Leiber/Stoller soundtrack.
nal rock and roll kalashnikov to a media-safe yes man. For this
On a sad note, this is the last film really to include Elvis’
reason, it becomes less and less important for these movies to
original bandmates, Bill Black, D.J. Fontana, and the incom-
pay any concessions to the myth of origin that Greil Marcus
parable Scotty Moore.
celebrates, replacing his performance power with “movie
In light of the misery that was to be Elvis’ next film, it is worth
magic.”
noting Leiber and Stoller’s enthusiasm in working with Elvis.
In every respect, G.I. Blues is a dismal film, in which Elvis
Guralnick uncovers a sad and telling episode in his biography.
takes a bet that he can’t bag Juliet Prowse over the course of
Jerry Leiber tells the story:
a three-day pass in Hamburg. As a last laugh at the old Elvis,
“[Charlie Feldman] said to me, ‘You know what would be mar-
Scotty, Bill and D.J. are trotted on for the final number, but
velous? I have a property that would make an incredible
they are all but indistinguishable against a gigantic American
motion picture. It’s called A Walk on the Wild Side [the cele -
flag, which in turn ironically and anachronistically equates
brated novel by Nelson Algren], and it would be great for Elvis
Elvis with George C. Scott’s Patton. As the opening credits
Presley.’ He said, ‘I’m sure I can get Elia Kazan to direct, and I
think we might get Budd Schulberg to write the screenplay,
and you two guys [Leiber and Stoller] would write the book…’
“I took the idea to the Aberbachs, who were the closest to
declare, G.I. Blues was “Produced with the full cooperation of
the U.S. Army and Department of Defense.” Coercion would
have been more like it. Shit.
4. KING CREOLE
Colonel Parker. They watched me in complete silence as I spun
(Paramount, May 1958), directed by Michael Curtiz; with Carolyn Jones, Dolores
Hart, Dean Jagger, Walter Matthau.
this story for about twenty minutes and made the pitch, and
6. FLAMING STAR
finally Jean said in his Viennese accent, ‘If you ever try to
King Creole is the other film with a legitimate claim to being
interfere with the business or artistic workings of the process
(20th Century Fox, December 1960), directed by Don Siegel; with Barbara Eden,
Steve Forrest, John McIntire and Delores Del Rio.
the King’s best. Directed by Michael (Casablanca) Curtiz and
known as Elvis Presley, if you ever start thinking in this direc-
“It’s a question of blood, I suppose.” Flaming Star is the first of
based on the Harold Robbins novel A Stone for Danny Fisher,
tion again, you will never work for us again.” (448-9)
two movies in which Elvis plays an American Indian. In this
Fisher (Elvis Presley) is a youth whose future is in jeopardy.
Jerry Leiber and Mike Stoller never did interfere with the
case, the King is actually a half-breed, and this spin on the
Forced to provide for his family in the effective absence of his
process known as Elvis Presley again.
Tragic Mulatto plot may be seen to comment subtly on
Hollywood’s attempts to contain the King’s explosive rock and
sings two songs, and the fact that you get to see the King
to make the money to buy the boat he and his late father built,
roll prowess. The story is motivated out of an attack on some
stroll onto a college campus at the end, is a powerfully weird
and upon which the King now lives. Then there’s the old two
white homesteaders by Elvis’ Indian in-laws. The loyalties of
moment for everyone.
girls/one Elvis thing. One lady is another singer at the club,
the half-breed Pacer (Elvis Presley) are immediately ques-
with whom the King evidently has an “understanding.” The
tioned, as Roz (Ms. Eden) hysterically cries, “You won’t need to
8. BLUE HAWAII
worry—you’ll always be safe from them!”
(Paramount, November 1961), directed by Norman Taurog; with Angela Lansbury,
other is more wholesome and turns out to be a millionaire.
John Blackman, and Iris Adrian.
The conflict escalates, and the King’s fiery Indian blood and
“special senses” only serve to confuse him, eventually to the
point of his waging war (why not?) on all mankind. As Dead
Elvis rides back into town, riddled with arrows, the subliminal
message is writ large: if Presley’s power is not contained, he
will surely destroy himself. Better, then, to let Hollywood
destroy him slowly. “Nah, Ma,” he says at a critical moment,
“they ain’t my people. To tell the truth I don’t know who’s my
people.”
Blue Hawaii holds a central position in Elvis’ cinematic corpus,
values that post-industrial American families have evidently
and is absolutely one of the five or six Elvis films that must be
lost (Chinese in this one, Hawaiian in Blue Hawaii, etc.) either:
seen in order to get a sense of his career, as well as (I’d argue)
a) stands in for his supposed relationship with Black families
the 60s in general. It is the first of what I call his “travelogue
when he was growing up (the relationship which dare not
films,” it represents his Elvis ™ persona fully emerged and
speak its name in 60s America), or b) is unbelievably crass.
resplendent, and it also features the first recorded evidence of
the King’s interest in the martial arts, as well as a performance
12. IT HAPPENED AT THE WORLD’S FAIR
of unbridled insanity by Angela Lansbury as his racist mother.
(MGM, April 1963), directed by Norman Taurog; with Joan O’Brien, Gary Lockwood,
Yvonne Craig.
More important than this, however, is the undeniable fact
7. WILD IN THE COUNTRY
(though I am the first to note it) that Blue Hawaii takes
(20th Century Fox, June 1961), directed by Philip Dunne; with Hope Lange, John
Ireland, Tuesday Weld, Gary Lockwood.
Shakespeare’s Tempest as its model (just as Shakespeare him -
For what it’s worth, Wild in the Country is the most ambitious
of Elvis’ early movies. Although he sings a couple songs in the
film, Glen Tyler (Elvis Presley) is, of all things, a young writer
with talent, whose ambition is nurtured by a middle-aged (but
still foxy) Irene (Ms. Lange). In the meantime, Noreen (Ms.
Weld) is the alcoholic, extremely available daughter of his
boss, who drawls, “It takes a man to go to Hell, and that’s just
what I want!” Yow! Say it, Sister!
With whom of course he ends up. It strikes me that the recurring theme of Elvis having a stand-in family nurturing him with
self relies heavily on Montaigne’s essay on cannibalism). A full
reading is not possible in this space, but suffice it to say that
Elvis’ “movie magic” is so uncontested in this film as to suture
him unmistakably into the position of Prospero—magically and
surreptitiously orchestrating every event in the film, while
What happened at the World’s Fair? Not very much, but who
cares? This stalwart travelogue has always contained enough
deep weirdness keep me coming back for more, and the centerpiece is the King’s appearance—so artificial he appears to
be laminated. Set in Seattle to coincide with the birth of the
Space Needle and 1963 Fair, Elvis’ good-for-nothing partner
loses their crop-dusting plane in a poker game; the rest is
incoherence, tedium, and lies, but with so many.
simultaneously aligning himself with and exploiting the exotic
Hawaiian natives. Nowhere is this clearer than in the musical
medley of “Ito Eat” and “Slide Some Sand,” in which Chad
Gates (Elvis Presley) sings a song exhorting “Ito eat fast” and
As E’s “writing” improves, an onslaught of crises comes to a
“Ito eat slow,” and then compels the entire cast to kick sand
head: accidental murder, sensationalist trial, sex scandal,
all over the helpless native.
attempted suicide. With all this, you hardly care that he only
1. In an early scene, the King has to beat a swift
retreat out of dream date Dorothy’s parents’ house
(Yvonne Craig, of Kissin’ Cousins), and in so doing
walks straight through a screen door. It is so improbable, that it seems to have been purely accidental.
2.In the dreary middle third of the film, Elvis lives in a
9. FOLLOW THAT DREAM
trailer park, foster-parenting Sue Lin (whom we
(United Artists, March 1962), directed by Gordon
Douglas; Arthur O’Connell, Joanna Moore, Ann
Helm.
park itself is a remarkable thing, not only for its
The next two films were to postpone the full-on development of the
travelogue. Based on Richard
Powell’s novel Pioneer Go Home,
Follow that Dream tells the story of
Elvis and his family homesteading in
Florida. Weird.
remember from Girls! Girls! Girls!). But the trailer
being presented as a fine and stylish community in
which to live, but also because the Jordannaires
appear to share a unit there.
3.In order to gain sympathy from the plug-ugly nurse
in the Fair’s infirmary, Elvis pays a ten-year old Kurt
Russell to kick him in the shins.
4.While sitting next to an enormous stuffed animal on
10. KID GALAHAD
a tram, Elvis sings (as he did in G.I. Blues) a song as
(United Artists, July 1962), directed by Phil
Karlson; with Gig Young, Lola Albright, Charles
Bronson, Joan Blackman.
that it’s the giant stuffed dog who’s meant to be
Considerably better is this, the last
of the King’s black and white films.
an interior monologue. I’ve always liked to imagine
singing.
5.Alarmingly violent fight scenes.
It features Elvis and Charles
Bronson (what?) as hands at a box-
13. FUN IN ACAPULCO
ing camp. Stranger and stranger.
(Paramount, November 1963), directed by Richard Thorpe; with Ursula Andress,
Paul Lukas (!!!), Alejandro Rey.
For me, this is the quintessential Elvis movie, particularly
11. GIRLS! GIRLS! GIRLS!
among the “travelogue” genre. In which the Mike Wingren
(Paramount, November 1962), directed by
Norman Taurog; with Stella Stevens, Jeremy
Slate.
(Elvis Presley) is stranded in Acapulco, where he is befriended
I always enjoy this one, though it
King singing gigs at the local hotels. In the meantime, Elvis as
embodies almost every one of the
usual woos two women: Dolores Gomez, the delightful Latino
most revolting features of Elvis’
bullfighter, and Marguerita, the buxom (if unexciting)
by little Raoul, who as a pre-pubescent hustler, secures the
films. In which the King is Ross
Caucasian Ursula Andress. But all the while the King is head-
Carpenter, a part-time singer, trying
ing towards a confrontation with the past he is trying to
#6 27
escape—for in a previous life, as one half of the trapeze act
In this film, the King fulfills an inevitable commitment to
“The Flying Wingrens,” Elvis dropped his twin brother to his
Hollywood semi-stardom by portraying two roles. Lt. Josh
promotional film for the Las Vegas Tourism Board. In addition
death in the Big Top. (The uncanny significance of Elvis’ still-
Morgan (Elvis Presley) is an army man, good-looking and with
to an early sequence in which Lucky Jackson (Elvis Presley)
born twin brother Jesse is writ large here.) The climax occurs
notable voice, though inevitably more important as yes man
enjoys no fewer than seven Vegas floor shows, there is an
when the King conquers his fear of heights by diving off
and stooge for Uncle Sam, Colonel Tom, Uncle Tom, Hollywood
almost completely unmotivated helicopter tour of Las Vegas
Acapulco’s famous cliffs. A hearty soundtrack adds to the mix
exec and RCA A&R. His task in the movie is to convince his
(the fastest growing city in the history of mankind) given to
(“No Room to Rhumba in a Sports Car,” “Vino, Dinero, Amor,”
yokel cousins in West Virginny to allow the army to build an
Rusty Martin (Ann-Margaret) by the King.
more). The one element that sets Fun in Acapulco apart from
ICBM missile base on their property. With some persuasion,
the other 32 of the King’s cinematic efforts is the presence of
this is accomplished, and the King gets his pick of the local
talent, in this case played by the delicious (but otherwise
sexual energy.
untalented) Yvonne Craig, whom we remember from her role
14. KISSIN’ COUSINS
as Dorothy in It Happened at the World’s Fair. As relief to this
(MGM, March 1964), directed by Gene Nelson; with Pamela Astin, Yvonne Craig,
Arthur O’Connel.
role, we find Elvis playing the most grotesque pastiche of his
Neither a movie for the impatient, nor (certainly) for music-lovers,
Jody Tatum, Josh Morgan’s inarticulate, suspicious and ultra-
“Kissin’ Cousins” must nevertheless be given a place of great
violent cousin. Most bizarre in this mix is the introduction of
importance for the student of Presley’s films. Whereas The
the disruptive “Kitty Hawks,” a tribe of wild women (led by
Tempest undoubtedly served as the model for the earlier Blue
Jane Fonda, no less!) who roam the West Virginia hills in
own hillbilly roots (in blonde wig, no less) in the character of
Hawaii, Kissin’ Cousins, both in form and presentation performs
search of men to kiss on. Their potentially devastating threat
an interpretation of Gilbert and Sullivan musicals (although its
is, however, defused by the US Army’s offering of a truck load
formal resemblance to A Comedy of Errors has been pointed out
of “pretty underwear” (bikinis), and the story is brought to a
to me by a noted Shakespearean actor). The G&S reading is fur-
satisfactory conclusion, as the Kitty Hawks pair off with the
ther reinforced by the fact that the film is almost entirely shot on
army men, and everyone enjoys a little backwoods flavor at
a single gaudy and moderately-proportioned film set, and it is
the ho-down. Just like The Mikado.
also clear that the play may quite easily be produced as a high
school musical, with similar results. Similar results, that is,
15. VIVA LAS VEGAS
except with respect to the plot’s relevance to the social and pro-
(MGM, April 1964), directed by George Sidney; with Ann-Margaret, Cesare Denova,
William Demarest.
fessional situation of Elvis himself in 1964.
Easily the Elvis film least belabored by any pretense of plot,
Viva Las Vegas may well have been originally conceived as a
Nonetheless, there is much of interest to Presley students in
the film. It is believed by many close to Elvis that AnnMargaret was the true love of his life, and it is reported that
they spent all of their off-hours on location, locked up in the
King’s hotel suit. Ann-Margaret, for her part, was at the time
inexplicably being hyped as the “female Elvis,” and while her
performance falls well short of justifying this claim, she is not
about to play second fiddle to the King, and the demented fervor with which she augments many of Elvis’ musical numbers
makes Viva Las Vegas well-worth the rental fee.
16. ROUSTABOUT
(Paramount, November 1964), directed by John Rich; with Barbara Stanwick,
Joan Freeman, Sue Ann Langdon.
After the high-energy madness brought to Viva Las Vegas by
Ann-Margaret, “Roustabout” unsettles us further by bringing to
the plate Barbara Stanwick who, to her everlasting credit, turns
in a fine performance. Charlie Rogers (Elvis Presley) is a rebellious loner whose singing salvages an insolvent traveling carnival. Unlike earlier films, however (like Loving You), in which the
ultimate conversion of the King is utterly unconvincing and part
BY TOM BIELAVITZ
Let’s be straight—Elvis did not become
Elvis the Icon because of his Top Ten Hits
or his box-office draw. The Elvis Myth
your ass while you overextend your credit
and still end up in the gutter.
So why bother with the movies? They’re
became such a large part of our pop
hardly the critics’ faves. They’re barely
culture because his life, perhaps more
more than a string of music videos
than any other, typifies the Rise and Fall
hanging tenuously around a threadbare
of a Star. He truly lived the American
plot. Well, you can still learn a thing or
Dream, full of requisite misappropriation
two from these films. For one, I learned
and ridiculous pose.
that the world of Elvis—on film—is a
How many people remember more than
28
#6
film other than Jailhouse Rock? No, the
reality, but unfortunately—unlike Elvis—I
Elvis who is remembered is a country-boy
can’t just sing a little ditty and turn that
turned plump pill-popper. The man who
frown upside down. Elvis’ film world is
hurled a pool cue at a woman’s breast.
one of sunny, carefree days and nights of
The man who ate fried pb&j sandwiches.
kissing the prettiest girls in the world.
The man who died on the shitter. Elvis is
And it gets crazier from there, each movie
the American Dream. Not the dream of
insulting my own real life a little bit
working hard and seeing the fruits of
more.
Lotto and telling your neighbors to kiss
• Elvis could race cars
• Elvis was a combo leader
• Deciding between the Rich Girl, the
kinky Sex Therapist and Rock ’n’ Roll
Drummer is enough plot for a feature
film
• Racing a Cobra can make one think
more clearly
• The Ventures were popular enough to
warrant film knock-offs
world I’d much rather live in. I’ve gone to
a handful of his tunes? Who can name any some pretty incredible lengths to stave off
success; rather, the dream of hitting the
SPINOUT
Here’s what I learned from watching
Elvis films.
JAILHOUSE ROCK
• Convicts aren’t all that bad
VIVA LAS VEGAS
• Elvis was a speedboat racer
• Ann-Margaret shaking her ass is
enough plot for a feature film
• Trading Places was not an original
movie idea
of the fun, here it is Elvis’ energy that seems like a joke in the
with an acceptable mate, but tries admirably nonetheless.
For “Kismet,” the King appears to his love reflected in the waters
first place.
Also, this is the only film to feature the King in drag, although
of a magic pool. Again as in real life, it all ends up in Vegas.
Two quick points: It is surely unintentional, but when Elvis up
not the only one in which the King is the only person partici-
and splits for the Big Fair, we see the simulacrum itself—the
pating in the film who is not an idiot.
exterior shots are clearly a blue screen projection of stock
carnival footage, and (as if to emphasize the artificiality),
when the King sings a passable version of the Coasters’
“Little Egypt,” it is in front of a carnival set. Second, with the
exception of A Change of Habit, this is the only Elvis film in
which a Black person gets a speaking role.
17. GIRL HAPPY
(MGM, January 1965), directed by Boris Sagal; with Shelley Fabares, Mary Ann
Mobley, Chris Noel, Joby Baker.
18. TICKLE ME
(Allied Artists, June 1965), directed by Norman Taurog; with Jocelyn Lane.
Very loosely based on the traditional ballad of the same
If I told you that Tickle Me was written by Elwood Ollman and
name, “Frankie and Johnny” is another period piece in which
Edward Bernds, who wrote for the Three Stooges, you’d tell
Elvis (Johnny) is a singer on a Mississippi riverboat choogling
me that the Three Stooges’ comedy consisted of unscriptable
down to New Orleans in the mid-nineteenth century. He and
physical comedy, and that this film was probably a complete
his tune huckster (Harry Morgan) get some advice from some
embarrassment and waste of time. And you’d be right.
gypsies, which they use to abet the King’s gambling habit.
This is one of those Elvis movies in which there is absolutely
19. HARUM SCARUM
(MGM, December 1965), directed by Gene Nelson; with Mary Ann Mobley.
Perhaps encouraged by the financial and formal success of
Viva Las Vegas (a film apparently made with a script of about
ten pages in length), the next several Presley films follow
suit. But since these films are bereft of the nigh-on clinically
insane quality that an Ann-Margaret brings to the former picture, the lack of cinematic subtleties such as plots and characterization makes this stretch of the King’s films the most
treacherous for any Elvis devotee.
Girl Happy, in which Rusty Wells (Elvis) is hired to chaperone
20. FRANKIE AND JOHNNY
(United Artists, July 1966), directed by Frederick De Cordova; with Donna Douglas,
Harry Morgan, Sue Ann Langdon.
no sexual energy. As a result, Elvis is completely upstaged by
Harry Morgan, who is given the honor of performing two
In which the King of Rock and Roll is a Valentino-style movie
songs—one in his own voice, one overdubbed by a session
star who is abducted from a diplomatic engagement in
musician’s deep baritone—and who also appears as Moses
“Abustan.” The function is to honor Johnny Tyrone’s (Elvis
for a crucial fifteen minutes of the movie.
Presley’s) latest, spectacularly offensive feature film, filmed in
this very country. The abducted King of Rock and Roll is taken
21. PARADISE, HAWAIIAN STYLE
to the savage lands of the MGM Arabian set lot (easily the
(Paramount, June 1966), directed by Michael Moore; with Suzanna Leigh, James
Shigeta, Donna Butterworth.
finest sets in any Elvis movie, and therefore quite disorienting
for the viewer). Thus, as in reality, Elvis’ actual life and film
The King at his fattest, around the time when he—so the
career blur together. It is worth mentioning some song titles,
story goes—met the Beatles. Rick Richards (Elvis Presley),
a mobster’s daughter on her spring break in Fort Lauderdale,
like “A Mirage,” “Kismet,” “Shake the Tambourine,” and “Go
apparently beating a kind of sexual harassment rap (I’m seri-
is notable for a couple of things. First. it is the first of three
East Young Man”:
ous about that) comes to Hawaii to start a helicopter tour
Presley films to feature Shelley Fabares (ex-“Donna Reed
Show,” ex-pop star [“Johnny Angel”], pre-“Coach”) as co-star.
She is far too young here to provide the visibly rounding Elvis
Go where the harem girls dance
Go out to find some romance
Go east young man
You’ll feel like a sheik—so rich and grand.
KID GALAHAD
• Elvis could take a punch, but couldn’t throw
for shit
• Watching Elvis’ neck snap back and forth is
actually very funny
• Charles Bronson could never act
• Even with broken hands, Charles Bronson is
compelled to seek revenge
STAY AWAY, JOE
• Elvis played the bongos
THE TROUBLE WITH GIRLS
• Elvis was a carny
• Red face paint can make Burgess Meredith an
• This movie would make a fantastic sleeping
Indian
pill substitute—I slept through it twice
• Everything is better with liquor
• Throwing your fists around is the best way to
start an argument
• Throwing your fists around is the best way to
• Seducing 16-year olds is fine for Injuns
• If nuns looked like Mary Tyler Moore, I’d try
to score a little
decide to see it, maybe you should, too.
• Red face paint can make Elvis an Indian
settle an argument
CHANGE OF HABIT
business. Elvis’ womanizing is such an issue in this film that
many female characters begin wearing wedding rings. If you
HARUM SCARUM
• Elvis was an Arabian adventurer/movie star
• Rather than walk away from a chained leopard, Elvis instead karate-chops it into submission; I don’t really understand why
• Smorgasbord is not only the epitome of chau-
GIRLS, GIRLS, GIRLS
• Elvis was a fisherman
vinist songwriting, but features the most
unwieldy chorus imaginable: “smooooorgaaas-booooord”
• You only need two girls in a film that really
LIVE A LITTLE, LEARN A LITTLE
• Elvis was a photographer
• Sticking ping pong balls in a dog’s mouth can
make it look like its lips are raised in a snarl
• Someone involved in this production was on
acid—witness the dream sequence for “Edge
calls for three girls in the title
• Elvis has no problem being crushed between
two boats—his chest is made of iron
• Half a gallon of chianti makes this movie
somewhat tolerable
EASY COME, EASY GO
• Elvis was a friend to hippies and beatniks,
but only the sanitized, Hollywood type
• One can watch an Elvis film over and over
again; this film, at least
of Reality,” a song ripe of covering by a band
like the Fuzztones
29
#6
22. SPINOUT
Shower Together!” Time is of the essence, however, and the
(MGM, December 1966), directed by Norman Taurog; with Shelley Fabares.
King must get his ass out of that hippy shit and into a scuba
A slimmer, and visibly happier Elvis returns in Spinout, and to
suit, so he can get to the treasure before it is nabbed by the
celebrate he wears sky blue in every single scene. It’s hard to
reprehensible Gil and Dina. After a minor setback, in which
know why this one works. The songs are hilarious (“Smorgas-
Elvis’ car is transformed into concept art by the super-freaky
bord,” “Beach Shack”), but I think it’s because three girls are
Zortan (damn!), a fantastic underwater chase scene and fight
chasing Elvis (Cynthia Foxhugh, Diana St. Clair and little Les,
brings the plot to a happy conclusion, and the lost treasure is
the drummer), and in the end he remains an unkept man.
used to fund Jo’s hippy art center.
23. EASY COME, EASY GO
24. DOUBLE TROUBLE
(Paramount, June 1967), directed by John Rich; with Elsa Lanchester, Pat Priest,
Dodi Marshal.
(MGM, May 1967), directed by Norman Taurog; with Annette Day, John Williams,
the Wiere Brothers.
Rarely does a Presley film engage with a cultural or social
In which Guy Lambert (Elvis Presley) travels across really bad
topic of any kind of cur rency. It is also known that the King had
cardboard sets of London, Brugges, Antwerp, chaperoning a
little time for 60s counter-culture, but Easy Come, Easy Go
truly charmless 17-year old (with whom he falls in love—
nonetheless happily situates the King negotiating with the
yikes!) and survives six murder attempts. There’s some karate,
bongo-drum coffee house crowd in a spirit of global accept-
but that’s about it.
ance. Ted Jackson (Elvis Presley) has just been discharged
from his stint in the navy, and once in civvies he reunites with
Judd Whitman (Mr. Priest) his freaky beatnik pal, who asks,
25. CLAMBAKE
(United Artists, December 1967), directed by Arthur H. Nadel; with Shelley Fabares,
Bill Bixby.
“Are you still deactivating those floating mines?”
In my informal polling, Clambake invariably reigns supreme as
During his last mine deactivation, Elvis had noted a mysterious
the amateur’s Elvis film of choice. While I would venture to say
“OH, BOOP,
BOOP, BOOP;
SHAKE YOUR LEG;
FABULOUS
TEEN MUSIC;
THE FIFTIES;
HIS MOVIES.”
—CHUCK BERRY,
WHEN ASKED,
IN 1977,
WHAT ELVIS
WOULD BE
REMEMBERED
FOR.
chest, filled with underwater treasure. Before he knows it, the
that most of my test subjects knew not King Creole from Fried
King’s misadventures have led him to the Symington Manor, a
Peanut Butter and Banana, their constancy in support of
psychedelic yoga refuge, where he is smitten by the dashing
Clambake has always amazed me, especially since there is very
The weekend before Clambake was to begin shooting, Elvis,
Jo. Jo’s philosophy may differ from the King’s, but he defends
little about the film that is exceptional. (It is the last onscreen
alone in his room, took so many pills that he passed out in his
her lifestyle: “It doesn’t mean she’s happily broke and full of all
appearance in a Presley vehicle for Shelley Farbares and the first
bathroom, hitting his head on the bathtub as he went down.
kinds of crazy principles!” Others at the manor are a bit more
for Bill Bixby, while Elvis is unusually fat and has especially
extreme in their views, as placards proclaim. “We protest!”
black-dyed, Brilliantined hair.) For the first time since Blue
“Narcissism—the only ism for me,” and “Conserve Water—
Hawaii, the King (here as Scott Hayward) is a rich man who must
be loved for himself rather than for
his money. To this end, he switch-
Horrified at the prospect of losing his cash cow, the Colonel
immediately forced Elvis to sign a revised version of their
agreement, in which Parker now officially took 50% of the
King’s earnings (see Jailhouse Rock).
es places with a destitute shitkick-
26. STAY AWAY JOE
er, and the fun ensues.
(MGM, March 1968), directed by Peter Tewksbury; with Burgess Meredith,
John Blondell, L.Q. Jones
In Clambake, Elvis’ magic consists entirely in his ability to cre-
Easily the most infamous of Presley’s films, “Stay Away Joe”
ate a miracle polymer coating to
quite simply demeans all mankind. This is the one in which Elvis
make speedboats go faster: this
(Joe Lightcloud) is a full-blooded Indian, sired improbably by
and his philosophy that “if you
Burgess Meredith. Both of them wear garish red makeup
look deep enough into the fir e
throughout, and that’s just a warm-up for the outrage to come.
you can see the future.”
The plot is set rolling when the King returns to the reservation,
In addition to its humiliating plot
having greased some palms in Washington to the tune of a
and bloodcurdling soundtrack,
whole herd of cattle and one bull. As opposed to the consider-
Clambake is of interest also
ably more respectable Flaming Star, it becomes clear quite quick-
because of its being the first
ly that Elvis is the only Indian who isn’t drunk and stupid. And, as
movie Elvis made after his mar-
in Kissin’ Cousins, where the Indian stereotypes are replaced
riage to Priscilla. An anecdote
that may or may not be related to
this even is related in Alanna
Nash’s Elvis Aaron Presley:
Revelations from the Memphis
Mafia (Harper Collins, 1995).
with white trash hillbillies, Elvis’ primary function in Stay Away
Joe is to be the one person capable of negotiating both the dominated and dominant worlds. But even the most hard-core kitsch
hound will start to keel over after about twenty minutes, when
Elvis sings a song of erotic encouragement to a truculent bull.
Routinely, by now, Elvis had considerable weight trouble coming
into each movie, and was sub-
30 #6
27. SPEEDWAY
(MGM, June 1968), directed by Norman Taurog; with Nancy Sinatra, Bill Bixby.
jecting himself to an onslaught of
The last of the car racing movies, this one is distinguished by
pharmaceuticals, uppers, down-
the non-performance of the thigh-booted Nancy Sinatra, and by
ers and dietary suppressants.
Elvis’ paean to conscription: “He’s Your Uncle, Not Your Dad.”
28. LIVE A LITTLE, LOVE A LITTLE
canon. Elvis saves the day by shooting the canon
(MGM, October 1968), directed by Norman Taurog; with Rudy
off its supports, causing it to roll backwards
Vallee, Eddie Hodges.
This, the last of nine Elvis films directed by the
odious Norman Taurog, may be seen as providing
a meta-commentary on his own role in the King’s
career. His first use of Elvis was in the sadly prescient G.I. Blues, and the rest of his films deal
down the hill, and crush the leader of the gang.
30. THE TROUBLE WITH GIRLS
(AND HOW TO GET INTO IT)
(MGM, December 1969), directed by Peter Tewksbury; with
Sheree North, Vincent Price, John Carradine.
A bizarre period piece in which a side-burned
Elvis (at last!) plays the leader of a Chatauqua
explicitly with the domestication and confinement
camp. What?? Vincent Price lends a touch of
of the Hollywood Elvis.
class, and the girl who was to be Cindy Brady
Live a Little, Love a Little, is a deliriously disori-
has a cameo.
enting film about free love and duplicity set in
31. A CHANGE OF HABIT
(where else?) Los Angeles, in which Greg Nolan
(NBC-Universal, January 1970), directed by William Graham; with
Mary Tyler Moore.
(Elvis Presley) holds two photography jobs, while
The last of Elvis Presley’s feature films takes a
dealing with an unstable and two-timing Bernice
number of gambles, most of which (I am happy
(Ms. Carey) and her sadistic dog Albert. The film
to say) pay off. The first, and perhaps the most
is based on the novel Kiss My Firm But Pliant
scandalous, of these inaugurates the film, as the
Lips, and Elvis wanders into continuously modu -
audience is given the startling imagery of a nun
lating realities, all of them orchestrated by
Bernice (who may stand in for Taurog in the
seductively undressing (kicking the habit), and
then pulling up sexy stockings. As the credits
come to a close, we are alarmed beyond belief to
meta-textual reading), including a brief imprison -
find that the seductive body belongs to none
ment at her Malibu beach house. The dream
other than Mary Tyler Moore, who is going
sequence (“The Edge of Reality”) is not to
incognito to do good in the inner city, to make
believed, nor is this movie. Essential.
better the name of the Catholic church. The King,
for his part, portrays Dr. John Carpenter, the
29. CHARRO!
(National General Productions Inc., September 1969), directed by
Charles Marquis Warren; with Lynn Kellogg.
The experimentation in the King’s late movie
career begins with Charro!, a film that is noteworthy both for the fact that Elvis only sings one song
for the soundtrack, and also noteworthy for his
beard. Charro! however, turns out to be a pleasingly demented and misguided western, whose
ambitions are deeply vitiated by a budget which
was probably equivalent to a round of sandwiches
for the Green Bay Packers. Nevertheless, the film
is worth experiencing for its soundtrack, which
does so much to undermine the film’s attempts at
dramatic effect, that you no doubt will begin to
entertain fantasies of Ennio Morricone having
been commissioned to write incidental music for
ABC’s “Wide World of Sports.”
long-time solitary practitioner at an inner-city
free clinic. Needless to say, the locals take to
him right away, on account of his informal, allafternoon jam sessions he holds in his apartment. The initial friction between the two
Caucasian parties is rather hilariously situated,
as Elvis believes that the nuns have arrived at
the clinic for abortions. Predictably, the white
interlocutors resolve that there’s some problems
you can solve and some you can’t. One sister
leaves the cloth to become a revolutionary,
another runs back to the church, and the film
closes with the delicious uncertainty of Mary T.
Moore choosing between the King of Men and
the King of Rock and Roll.
One particularly amazing thing about this movie
is that a crucial scene at the end if the film not
only portrays the Black Panthers at work in the
Jess Wade (Elvis Presley) is an outlaw trying to
neighborhood, but tacitly endorses their program.
steer right. His former posse, meanwhile, has
In addition to this, A Change of Habit concludes
stolen a sacred Mexican canon, which they are
Elvis’ feature film career on something of a
simultaneously using to defend themselves, sell
redemptive note. Whereas the earliest films used
for ransom money, and frame Elvis for its theft.
the mythology of Elvis’ rebellious persona, only
There are some rather splendid scenes in which
to abandon it wholesale in the fantasy films of
Elvis is branded like a steer, wanders across the
the sixties, this last film engages Presley’s long-
desert, and tames an untamable horse. The cli-
time affection for Black spirituals, presenting an
max is similarly pleasing, as the King is depu-
image of Presley at least has some resonance
tized by a wounded sheriff in order to unify a bit-
with his reality—a reality which at the time
ter and cynical town against the barely compe-
received a great deal of resistance from his
tent posse, who, in a last move of desperation,
record company.
have decided to shell the town with this same
31
#6
32. ELVIS: THAT’S THE WAY IT IS
(34.) THE NEW GLADIATORS
(MGM, December 1970), directed by Denis Sanders.
According to Nash’s book, Elvis had, at the time
The last two of Elvis’ films are both documen-
of his death, begun work on this film, which was
taries of his return to regular performance. That’s
meant to be an instructive introduction to the
the Way It Is chronicles the rehearsal leading up
martial arts. We can only hope that what was
to a vital Las Vegas gig, and features rehearsals
completed will one day come to light.
with his lightning-fast and super-enthusiastic
TCB band. It’s interesting in that it has some
•
great performances, while showing the early
•
•
•
•
•
•
•
•
•
stages of Elvis’ famous late period stagewear
(capes, sunglasses, etc.). But Elvis’ nearly mania-
BIBLIOGRAPHY
Ad
cal nervous energy bears painful witness to the
thousands of pills he’d popped to keep him alive
The Book of Rock Lists (Look it up yourself)
for the last ten years of movie making, and for
Guralnick, Peter. Last Train to Memphis: The Rise of
this reason, the film can hardly be watched with
Elvis Presley. Boston: Little, Brown and Co., 1994.
pure enjoyment…
Nash, Alanna with Billy Smith, Marty Lacker and Lamar
33. ELVIS ON TOUR
Fike. Elvis Aaron.
(MGM, 1972), directed by Pierre Adidge and Robert Abel.
Presley: Revelations from the Memphis Mafia. New
…to say nothing of Elvis On Tour. Screaming
thousands, royal receptions, outrageous costumes
and a timely split screen approach all only serve
York: Harper Collins, 1995.
Shakespeare, William. “The Tempest.” The Riverside
to make this final Elvis film a garish pronounce-
Shakespeare. Ed. G. Blakemore Evans. Boston:
ment on the physical condition of Elvis at the
Houghton Mifflin, 1974. pp. 1606-1638.
young age of 37. Still, it’s nice to see the King
performing the spirituals on stage that he loved
so much, and which he had been discouraged
Greil Marcus. Dead Elvis: A Chronicle of a Cultural
Obsession. New York: Doubleday, 1991.
from performing for so long. The performances
Robert B. Ray. A Certain Tendency of the Hollywood
are exemplary for late-period Elvis.
Cinema, 1930-1980. Princeton: Princeton UP.
BRADDOCK’S LAZY MAN GUIDE
TO THE FILMS OF ELVIS PRESLEY
32
#6
CLIP
AND
POST
ON YOUR VCR
ESSENTIAL
UNDENIABLE
VALUABLE
GRATING
DISASTROUS
Viva Las Vegas
It Happened at the World’s Fair
Girls, Girls, Girls
Harum Scarum
Double Trouble
Fun in Acapulco
Wild in the Country
Girl Happy
Charro!
G.I. Blues
King Creole
That’s the Way it Is
Flaming Star
Frankie and Johnny
Paradise, Hawaiian Style
Blue Hawaii
Easy Come, Easy Go
Kissin’ Cousins
Love Me Tender
Tickle Me
A Change of Habit
Loving You
Elvis On Tour
Roustabout
Jailhouse Rock
Spinout
Stay Away Joe
Live a Little, Love a Little
The Trouble with Girls
Clambake
Kid Gallahad
Speedway
Follow that Dream
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33
#6
WHAT A JERKOFF!
Favo r i te Teenage Boy Beat-off Films (circa 1982-1987)
About Last Night
Demi Moore shows it off in a big way. (Note also, Blame It on Rio
for a sample of her earlier, tamer flaunting.)
Angel Heart
I hadn’t planned to mention this film, released in 1987, the tail
end of my own adolescence, but it kept coming up in
conversation. And rightly so—that Lisa Bonet sure could shake
it! It’s a wonder Mickey Rourke didn’t lose an eye on one of those
nipples. And that poor chicken! Ouch! Certainly a favorite for
most males.
Blue Lagoon
Never saw it myself, but other men reminded
me that there was a brief nude scene (infamous
in its day, as I recall) that provided under-thesheets fantasy fodder for many young men of
the time.
Caligula
I don’t recall how I saw this movie as a young
teen, but I did. It was a regular smorgasbord for
the youthful libido.
Cat People (remake)
Nastassja Kinski’s finest work, if such a
statement can be made with a straight face. I
still get a tingle when I think of her strutting
around naked.
A Clockwork Orange
Sorry, but I was just a kid. I knowit’s rape—but
hey, at the time, titty was titty. No apologies
here.
I Spit on Your Grave
Eek. My thanks to Tom for jarring this little gem from my
repressed memories. In terms of sexuality, it’s worse than A
Clockwork Orange
, with a first half that is pure nastiness toward
women and a second half revenge plot that climaxes with a
castration. Not exactly erotica, you know? But, as I said above,
titty was titty…
My Tutor
Lots of topless shots and ridiculous love scenes. But that’s what
us teenage boys craved. And here’s where we found it.
The Name of the Rose
I had no problem with Christian Slater’s bare ass in
the interest of spying Valentina Vargas’ bare
everything else.
9 1/2 Weeks
A terrible, terrible movie. And only mediocre nudity,
but it sufficed in its day.
Porky’s
And, to a lesser extent, the sequels: Porky 2: The Next
Day and Porkys’ Revenge. With this first movie,
though, a genre was defined: the zany teenage tittycaper movie. And for several years in the early
’80s, at least one of these movies could be found
on at least one of the major cable movie channels each weekend night. Porkys’ is also, in my
opinion, the father of the beach-titty films, as
perfected with Spring Break.
Fast Times at Ridgemont High
Quest for Fire
Every young man fell head-over-hard-on for
Phoebe Cates’ upper-half during that poolside
fantasy scene. The embarrassment that Judge
Reinhold’s character was beating off at the same
time was inconsequential—she was too
irresistible to keep your drawers on. And don’t
forget young Jennifer Jason Leigh’s bathhouse sex
scene, in which she sets a precedent for, uh, er,
later “revealing” film appearances.
Wretched movie. But lots of skin (well, mudcovered skin, but shapely nonetheless.) Also an
overplayed HBO favorite, if I recall correctly.
Friday the 13th
34
#6
of flesh, while you tolerated the otherwise miserable attempts at
suspense and horror.
And that also goes for any of the early-80s
slasher movies that featured—under studio
contract, one could assume—at least one nude
scene. It was something to count on, that flash
Risky Business
If you manage to remove Tom Cruise from
your line of sight, Rebecca De Mornay
remains a beauty. But did she actually show
anything? Or am I having false recollections?
Don’t matter—I’d never sit through this
movie again, naked Becky or not.
Road Warrior
See A Clockwork Orangefor my halfhearted justification.
that slight frame, those fantastic boobs! Yo w !
Unfortunately, much like this movie, Ms. Quennessen
didn’t age very well; she appeared just so ordinary in the
first Conan movie, and hasn’t done much on this side of
the Atlantic since. Still, she’s still worth a second look.
Even as an adult. 1
Tattoo
According to Tom, another infamous HBO filler, no doubt
kept in circulation for its nudity content. I’ve never seen
it, but the summaries describe it as a reworked version of
John Fowles’ The Collector
, an incredible coincidence—I’m
reading that very book at the time of this writing.
Spring Break
Spring Break. Hardbodies. Hardbodies And
2. all the rest of them.
This movie was a stroke of marketing genius from Hollywood—
a Beach Blanket Bingofor titty-hungry, cable-ready Americans; the
big-screen Baywatch of its day. And the perfect flick for teen boy
yanking.
Summer Lovers
I remember this movie as an HBO mainstay, probably the most
jerked-off-over flick of the year. Granted, it hasn’t aged very
well—featuring very little titty and no real sex scenes—but at the
time, it got my youthful engine a-rip-roarin’! Valerie Quennessen, the “other woman,” is probably responsible for
imprinting me with a lust for smaller chickies; those big eyes,
10
Ask any grown man and he should admit—in understandably
hushed, guilty tones—to having enjoyed the pleasure of Bo
Derek’s overexposed chest.
Xtro
It’s not just Maryam D’Abo’s big-screen debut, but also the debut
of her privates. Forget Sharon Stone and that pitiful little bush
shot. What a looker!
1 As a note of interest, this 1982 movie features the ominous Daryl Hannah line: “I used to
dream I was a mermaid.” Now that’s foreshadowing.
Additional research/confessions by Tom Bielavitz.
35
#6
LONG LIVE COLUMBO!
OH, JUST FUCK STEVE MCQUEEN.
Though I don’t think it’s reached a zenith quite yet, the hipster worship
I’m talking about Columbo, the TV detective. And if you never
of Steve McQueen is already on my nerves. I know, I know—this very
appreciated him in the past, maybe it’s time you quit your job like I did
paragraph will inspire countless chuckleheads to run out and rent Bullitt,
and started watching A&E every afternoon. While I’d always enjoyed
The Getaway and The Great Escape, but that’s a risk I’ll take. Really,
Columbo on a Sunday afternoon when I was kid, this work-at-home thing
now: if you’re so far behind the trend that you’re catching up by taking
sure has made me a fanatic.
cues from a shut-in like me, then you’re in bad fucking shape anyway.
Nonetheless, I’d like to help everyone along by identifying the next
under-appreciated-cool-guy trend before it begins. No, it’s not Lee
There’s
the joke!
Fuck Mike Hammer. Fuck Quincy. Fuck McMillan and his Wife.
Columbo is the only TV detective worth watching.
Here’s the most complete Columbo episode guide I could find online.
Marvin—Eyewash broke that ground two years ago. James Caan? Not a
(Actually, it’s two guides which I combined.) I found them on the only
bad choice, but not stellar.
Columbo website in existence as of press time (itself a shocking
No, it’s time for everyone to appreciate Columbo. No, not Peter Falk.
Columbo, the character. I know that Wim Wenders listed Falk as one of
revelation): http://daniel.drew.edu/~dmambu/columbo/.
Don’t just peruse the episode titles and airdates—pay particular
the ten best actors in the world. And yes, Iknow about the Columbo joke
attention to the vast list of guest stars. Note Dick Van Dyke’s appearance
in Wings of Desire. No, I’ve never seen his brilliant performance in A
in Negative Reaction, a fantastic episode. Or a pre-rehab Johnny Cash
Women Under the Influence (which, incidentally, was directed by 1971
as a country-gospel singer in Swan Song. If you like playing that Six
guest star John Cassavetes and co-star red future Columbo guest stars
Degrees of Kevin Bacon game, try using Columbo instead—all roads
Gena Rowlands and Fred Draper) and I have no intention of ever doing so.
truly lead back to the one-eyed detective.
36 #6
Air Date
2/20/68
3/01/71
9/15/71
10/06/71
10/27/71
11/17/71
12/15/71
1/19/72
2/09/72
9/17/72
10/15/72
11/05/72
11/26/72
1/21/73
2/11/73
3/04/73
3/25/73
9/23/73
10/07/73
11/04/73
12/16/73
1/18/74
2/10/74
3/03/74
5/05/74
9/15/74
10/06/74
10/27/74
2/09/75
3/02/75
4/27/75
9/14/75
10/12/75
11/02/75
2/01/76
2/29/76
5/02/76
10/10/76
12/28/76
5/22/77
12/21/77
1/30/78
2/28/78
4/15/78
5/13/78
2/06/89
2/27/89
4/03/89
5/01/89
1991
1991
1992
1993
1994
1995
Episode
Prescription: Murder
Ransom For A Dead Man
Murder By The Book
Death Lends A Hand
Dead Weight
Suitable For Framing
Lady In Waiting
Short Fuse
Blueprint For Murder
Etude In Black
The Greenhouse Jungle
The Most Crucial Game
Dagger Of The Mind
Requiem For A Falling Star
A Stitch In Crime
The Most Dangerous Match
Double Shock
Lovely But Lethal
Any Old Port In A Storm
Candidate For Crime
Double Exposure
Publish Or Perish
Mind Over Mayhem
Swan Song
A Friend In Deed
An Exercise In Fatality
Negative Reaction
By Dawn’s Early Light
Troubled Waters
Playback
A Deadly State Of Mind
Forgotten Lady
A Case Of Immunity
Identity Crisis
A Matter Of Honor
Now You See Him
Last Salute To The Commodore
Fade In To Murder
Old Fashioned Murder
The Bye Bye Sky-High I.Q. Murder Case
Try And Catch Me
Murder Under Glass
Make Me A Perfect Murder
How To Dial Murder
The Conspirators
Columbo Goes To The Guillotine
Murder, Smoke, And Shadows
Sex And The Married Detective
Grand Deceptions
Death Hits the Jackpot
Murder Can Be Hazardous to Your Health
No Time to Die
It’s All In The Game
Butterfly in Shades of Grey
Strange Bedfellows
Guest Stars
Gene Barry, Katherine Justice, Nina Foch
Lee Grant, Harold Gould, Patricia Mattick
Jack Cassidy, Martin Milner, Rosemary Forsyth
Robert Culp, Ray Milland, Patricia Crowley
Eddie Albert, Suzanne Pleshette, Kate Reid
Ross Martin, Kim Hunter, Don Ameche
Susan Clark, Richard Anderson, Leslie Nielsen
Roddy McDowall, Ida Lupino, James Gregory
Patrick O’Neal, Forrest Tucker, Janis Paige
John Cassavetes, Blythe Danner, Myrna Loy
Ray Milland, Bradford Dillman, Bob Dishy
Robert Culp, Dean Stockwell, Valerie Harper
Richard Basehart, Honor Blackman, John Williams
Anne Baxter, Mel Ferrer, Kevin McCarthy
Leonard Nimoy, Will Geer, Anne Francis
Laurence Harvey, Jack Kruschen, Lloyd Bochner
Martin Landau, Paul Stewart, Julie Newmar
Vera Miles, Martin Sheen, Vincent Price
Donald Pleasance, Gary Conway, Julie Harris
Jackie Cooper, Ken Swofford, Joanne Linville
Robert Culp, Robert Middleton, Louise Latham
Jack Cassidy, Mickey Spillane, Mariette Hartley
Jose Ferrer, Lew Ayres, Robert Walker
Johnny Cash, Ida Lupino, William McKinney
Richard Kiley, Michael McGuire, Rosemary Murphy
Robert Conrad, Philip Bruns, Pat Harrington
Dick Van Dyke, Antoinette Bower, Don Gordon
Patrick McGoohan, Tom Simcox, Mark Wheeler
Robert Vaughn, Patrick MacNee, Bernard Fox
Oskar Werner, Martha Scott, Gena Rowlands
George Hamilton, Lesley Ann Warren, Stephen Elliott
Janet Leigh, Sam Jaffe, John Payne
Hector Elizondo, Sal Mineo, Barry Robins
Patrick McGoohan, Leslie Nielsen, Otis Young
Ricardo Montalban, Pedro Armendariz, Jr., A. Martinez
Jack Cassidy, Bob Dishy, Robert Loggia
Robert Vaughn, Fred Draper, Diane Baker
William Shatner, Lola Albright, Alan Manson
Joyce Van Patten, Celeste Holm, Jeannie Berlin
Theodore Bikel, Samantha Eggar, Sorrell Booke
Ruth Gordon, Mariette Hartley, G.D. Spradlin
Louis Jourdan, Shera Danese, Richard Dysart
Trish Van Devere, Laurence Luckinbill, Patrick O’Neal
Nicol Williamson, Tricia O’Neil, Kim Cattrall
Clive Revill, Jeanette Nolan, Bernard Behrens
Anthony Andrews
Fisher Stevens
Lindsay Crouse
Robert Foxworth
No data
No data
No data
No data
No data
No data
37
#6
Portrait of the Young Man…
…as a
natural-born
writer?
Doubtful.
And
as a natural-born
illustrator?
Um…
Definitely not.
38
#6
39
#6
My dad was, essentially, an everyman’s mad scientist, a family-man, suburban Edison. After dinner, he
didn’t hit the bar (though he often did have a drink), and he didn’t go play cards with the Boys. No—he
went down to the basement to the drawing board. Literally. He spent his evenings dreaming up and
rendering machines. Some, I assume, were work-related: hoists, conveyors, the like. Others were his
brainchildren—motorized tricycles, his favorite form of automobile.
Originally, this centerfold featured a som
in a compromising position. No one wo
porn laws. So, at the last minute, I scram
That should explain why they’re so disj
centerfold, send an SASE (#10 envelope
Maybe he read too many issues of Popular Mechanics as a child. All those Future Watch articles which posited the three-wheeler as the Automobile of the Future. Or
maybe he just appreciated the utility of three wheels—tighter turning radii, motorcycle street classification, flexible design possibilities. Whatever. The fact is, he made
some pretty fucking cool trikes. As the Chief Engineer for a roofing equipment company, he had the run of a manufacturing plant and enough latitude to whip up custom
parts for his latest brainstorms.
His first trike predated the AT Vc raze by at least 5 years. Short and squat, it seated two on a bench with a wide motherfucker handlebar for steering. The engine—either
a 5- or 10-horse Briggs & Stratton—sat behind the seat. There were two gears: go and idle. It had a handlebar throttle (like a motorcycle), and a handle between your legs
for engaging the belt. Oh, and no brakes, of course—I think they were too much trouble to install.
I loved those machines. When I was about 7, we had two of them—my brother invariably took the 10-horsepower model; I got the fiver. We had abundant undeveloped
woods and bike trails all around us, the perfect environment for these beasts. On asphalt, I think they peaked at about 35 mph; pretty fucking fast for a garage-made vehicle.
Surprisingly, though, they weren’t much of a death trap—the wide rear wheelbase provided a stable footprint; the only way to flip one (and I should know, since I did it a
couple times) was to catch a rear wheel on a small tree or such—without a differential, that wheel would climb,
taking that side of the trike up in the air with it. And if you got thrown, that fucking thing kept on running—
the throttle stayed in place, and there was no kill switch on the early models.
Slowly, though, they broke down and fell victim to neglect. My brother grew up; I got bored riding the same
dirt tracks. (And I couldn’t travel to any other areas in town—the cops had stopped me enough times, riding that
thing through the development, that I was rightly worried of getting in deep shit for taking one onto the road.)
Property developers slowly took our bike trails away from us, replacing them with industrial parks and loading
bays, and at least one of those trikes died a rusty death on the side of the house under a tarpaulin.
His second and third creations were street legal. Officially classified as motorcycles—complete with Jersey
plates and registration—those two trikes were even more amazing than their predecessors (see photo). I must
admit that I preferred the first design—constructed entirely of sheet metal, it offered a certain security, flying
down the highway at 65, wind whipping your head around inside the helmet (a legal requirement due to the
motorcycle classification). The second street-legal trike was smaller and had a fiberglass nose. For some reason, it
THE FIRST STREET-LEGAL TRIKE
Though this photo is marked as “Jeff and Ken” on the back,
unless my brother was working on a pair of teenage titties,
the actual person on the right is my cousin, Janin e.
felt less safe, though I know it was probably
less dangerous than most used cars.
Four years ago, he unveiled his latest
projects—a pair of refined, off-road trikes.
Each perfect for one adult, but capable of
accommodating a cramped pair, these
babies came with an honest-to-god steering
wheel, kill switch, roll bar and disc brakes.
They are smaller and leaner than their
ancestors, and tougher than any of those
store-bought ATVs. On their maiden
weekend, we got one up to 55 on the
asphalt; open up the throttle off-road, and
you end up sore from all the bouncing
around. One of my fellow test pilots
accidentally tried out the roll bar by taking
a turn too tightly and too quickly; the cage
was bent a little, but his head was still
intact, so we considered it a success.
My folks moved out of the area last
year, leaving the trikes behind with my
brother-in-law, who has fifty acres and a
10-year old son (the perfect combination).
Unfortunately, my sister isn’t likely to let
Bob and Sean take them out of the barn;
she’s too afraid of the world, not to mention
our father’s home-brewed death traps.
Shame, really, to think of another
generation of Koyen Trikes dying a rusty
death underneath the tarp. If I had a few
acres and not too many neighbors, I’d rent
a truck and rescue them, occasionally
gassing them up and test-driving the fruit
of my dad’s imagination.
APRIL, 1997 MARKS THE 150TH ANNIVER
ON BEHALF OF CARNIVORES EVERYWH
mewhat distasteful photo of a young girl
ould print it, citing those pesky kiddie
mbled to put these two pages together.
jointed. For a laser print of the original
e, 1 stamp.) Just don’t call the Feds, ok?
I see many of my father’s odd passionate streaks rush through me. Late nights in front of the computer—my
version of his drawing table—choking down frustration, trying to create that unknown something, trying to make
a mark that stands out, all the while still coloring inside the lines. Playing by the rules, in other words.
And I do play by the rules. I work my cock off to keep the bills paid. I don’t fuck around on my girlfriend. I
pet the cats and walk the dog. Ironically, these mundane rituals keep me level. The daily work teaches me
temperate ambition. The fidelity teaches me honor. The dog has taught me patience.
Without them, I don’t know what I’d have. Self-critical irony and self-aggrandizement aside—I see a certain
appeal to the life of a hermit, living day-to-day in a trailer somewhere with nothing but the bugs and heat as
company. Somewhere isolated, deep in the midwest perhaps. A minimal life, one without domestic trappings, one
without urban haste.
But then I consider my need for connection, my drive to associate, to keep my head, my egotist compulsion to
bleed my heart and produce a product in order to take
the edge off my depressive side. I nurture the mania,
exploiting it while it lasts, to delay the inevitable lull as
long as possible.
I know that I wouldn’t last long enough to file a tax
return in my new state. That’s why I won’t own a gun: I
slip too often.
Life is frivolity, really, and without those mundane
Date: Wed, 22 Jan 1997 00:20:30
From: Heidi </////////////////>
To: [email protected]
artifacts to keep me steady, I’d likely put the heat to my
head. Again, no joke. And no pedestals. It’s a goddamned
fact.
Crank...Hey you rude fucking
male! Why the hell do you have
such an attitude?? Well, anyway..
I find you so crude, I want to
FUCK YOUR BRAINS OUT! SO THERE!!
Now what do you think of us
women?? You want some?? <<I'll
give you a few hickey's too =)>>
READERS SHARE
AS IF I CARE.
RSARY OF THE DONNER PARTY RESCUE.
HERE, THANKS FOR THE INSPIRATION!
To: [email protected]
Subject: my fuck up life
I will tell you the shitest story ever when I was young my mom and my fucking dad
broke up and my mom took care of me and my biosexfag brother my mom didn’t no
that when I feel alseep he would do sick shit to me in my sleep well fuck that part
but I got old and dumder and started smoking buds and some fuck up family from
califonia well there is nothing wrong with smoking bud right wrong you start that
shit and the other shit you will try using like crank or acid well I don’t know about
you but the frist day I tried crank I ask this bitch if it would do anything to me she
said no its just like smoke buds and I was only 14 well it killed my mind then I tried
acid and went even more crazy then I started steeling all the fucking time then I
met some bitch that lied thu her fucking ass and she gave me aids and know no
one knows and people fuck me in my sleep and get aids I just kicked her stupid ass
for giving me aids she moved to california and I just found out that when I was not
around she gave my friends aids my 13 teen year old nefew aids and the fucking
bitch play blood brothers with my 6 year old nefew and 10 year old cousin and
know half my family is going to hate me and people that fuck me in my sleep are
going to get it and I going to spread it to a couple of hos well i bet half the world
is going to hell and know seems to care
.............from ADAM S CRANE CALL ME UP AT 509-921-8036
A totally gratuitous photo of our dog, Buddy.
Yes, he has one blue eye and one brown eye.
No, he’s not blind. Quite a looker, eh?
p. 42
In September, Amy and I spent two days in Vegas
and two days in Salt Lake City. The trip was
prompted by my brother’s wedding in SLC. Until
the wedding, I would estimate that I’ve spent a
sum total of ten hours with my brother in the
same number of years, so his upcoming nuptials
were a good opportunity to catch up.
But rather than spend four days in Utah which
would, no doubt, prove to be mind-numbing—
long lost brother or not—we decided to split
our big vacation into two stops: Las Vegas for
two days; SLC for two days.
These are the highlights of that trip.
(AND SALT LAKE CITY)
FIRST STOP-LAS VEGAS
To add to my small collection of interesting bottle openers (8 or 9 total), I picked up these two
pieces of tourist tin. The top one, bought for $2.99 at the Las Vegas Travelodge convenience store,
doesn’t work for shit—the opening isn’t sized properly. Its companion, however, an apparent rip-off
at $4.99, does the job with aplomb and was, therefore, well worth the extra two bills. The Vegas
opener sits in a drawer. The piece from Hoover Dam will remain on my desk until it is replaced by
something more fancy.
43
#6
FIRST STOP-LAS VEGAS (CONT.)
While strolling past the
Well, we went to the
MGM, we spied the mar-
demonstration and the
quee as it flashed an ad
signing. Sure it’s a goofy
for a cooking demonstra-
thing to do, but fuck, it
tion and book signing by
was our vacation, so keep
Emeril Lagasse, the king
your traps shut. We wanted
of the TV Food Network.
to live a little, ok? (The
Admittedly, we hate sea-
photo at left catches a
food. But Emeril sure is
frisky Emeril trying for a
fun to watch. Hmm?
little starfuck action with
What was that? Watching
Amy from Crank. Honest.
the TV Food Network
You should’ve seen
makes us seem like mid-
where that right hand was
dle-aged, homebodies?
heading before I cracked
Guilty as charged, then.
him one across the face.)
A
B
C
Your editor poses with the latest casino monstrosity: New York, New York.
Note these key features of this architectural marvel:
A. Highly detailed, incredibly accurate rendition of the New York skyline,
including the Empire State Building (second from left, cropped off).
B. The developers faithfully recreated the controversial NYC Commuter
ScreamMachine, a 50-story roller coaster which encircles the entire isle
and provides cheap and exciting public transportation for all residents.
C. Since I cropped this photo so poorly—and don’t particularly feel like
re-scanning it—you won’t see the headless Statue of Liberty that was
under construction at the time of our visit.
44
#6
S E C O N D S T O P -S AL T L A K E C I T Y
T H E W E D D I N G
My brother Ken and his bride, Shannon,
were married at an Elk’s Lod ge just outside
of Salt Lake City. At first glance, a rented
hall doesn’t seem the most romantic of
venues for exchanging one’s vows, but
think about it—no religious drapings, no
mass, no readings from that Bible thing,
none of that nonsense. Just a hired gun
who kept the religious rhetoric to a
bearable minimum. And furthermore, since
the reception was held in the same room as
the ceremony, we all started boozing it up
at 11:30 a.m. when the wedding started!
So, I am quite happy to report that this
was one of the most enjoyable weddings
I’ve attended in recent years. My sincerest,
best wishes go out to my brother and new
sister-in-law. It’s about time Ken found
himself a good woman to keep him in line.
The Four Elk
of the Apocalypse:
(As mentioned in Revelations 6:30, clockwise from top)
BROTHERLY LOVE
FIDELITY
CHARITY
JUSTICE
This unidentified guest hit the wet bar a little too hard
for an early Saturday afternoon. Soon after this photo
was taken, the subject was escorted out the door and
placed in the protective care of her family.
Fuck the chicken
dance! One of the
Doobie Brothers
played at this
wedding. The
cover songs were
fine, but his
original material
was lacking.
I told him to
not quit his day
job, but was
embarrassed to
find out that this
was his day job.
Ken and
Shannon
enjoy their
first dance as
a married
couple. Note
the Elk of
Brotherly Love
(lightened
and retouched
for clarity)
watching
ominously
in the
background.
45
#6
SALT LAKE CITY
THE MORMONS
Fact: There’d be nothing much ado about Salt Lake City if it weren’t for those kooky Mormons. Also
known as the Jesus Christ Church of Latter Day Saints, these prime examples of Christian Craziness
offer very little in the way of dynamic individualism as far as the proper religion is concerned. Love
Thy Neighbor. Jesus Loves You. Etc. Snooze.
The basic premise is thus: John Smith set out to spread the word, but was quickly jailed and
murdered somewhere in the Midwest. His second-in-command, Brigham Young (aka
“Big-and-Hung” to non-Mormon locals) took over and led the congregation to Salt Lake
City, where they founded the Mormon Church. Everyone knows that polygamy is a Mormon
Thing, but not everyone knows that the Mormons claim to house the largest genealogical database in
the world. Right there in Salt Lake City! (Closed on weekends. Fuck!) See, it all ties together: only the
Mormons will be going to Heaven come Judgment Day, so it’s very important that as many bloodlines
and lineages as possible are documented, especially with that pesky polygamy mucking up the whole
birth defect equation. They figure that when the Big Day comes, the Big Guy will have so much on his
mind that he won’t be able to keep track of everyone. So that database will come in quite handy for all
involved. (And you always imagined that Santa’s list would be a bitch to keep current!) Basically,
everyone not on the Qualified Mormon List will rightly go to Hell.
In spite of all that nonsense, I must admit that the HQ at Temple Square is genuinely impressive.
Our tour guide was Sister Augustine, a very attractive Caribbean woman who was on her “mission”—
eighteen months of voluntary service for the Church—after being converted to the Mormon faith by a
friend of her parents (some friend!) In any case, here’s the highlight of the tour: The Talking Jesus
Statue. In case you were ever curious, Jesus speaks perfect English with absolutely no regional accent.
He also had nothing interesting to say, and did not take questions at the end.
If you ever find yourself in Salt Lake, do take the tour. It’s free, and the room which houses the
statue is covered by an incredible, Yessongs-ish mural of the universe.
46
#6
The Talking Jesus Statue
No, it’s not a Disneystyle animatron; that
would’ve given me a
heart attack from joy.
Rather, it sports a
recorded message
spouting all the
usual Jesus
wisdom.
THE EASY GAG THAT EVERYONE LOVES
You actually listened to all that crap about being a good girl? HA HA! Saint Peter
knows how to play ball, honey. And you know what? His paste didn’t taste HALF as
bad as some of those motherfuckers I had to blow back on earth!
What part of “young boy with
nice, white buttocks” did you
not understand?
I can maybe believe you wearing white, Maryanne. But YOU,
Jim? With all those ass-punchings I gave you as a choir boy?
You got INFORMATION for me, lady? Oh, no, I’ve got
some for YOU: from where I’m standing, your ass
stinks worse than my dog’s balls.
I’m afraid I can’t clip coupons with you right
now, Marge. I’ve got Stan’s seed dripping down
my legs.
47
#6
HOUSE CLEANING
All reet! All reet!
“You don’t talk much,” she noted.
My warchest is filled with dollar bills
¶ “No. I’m not very chatty.” And with
wrapped inside scrap paper, stuffed into
that, I replaced the urn of brackish
hand-addressed envelopes, and sent,
coffee to its hot spot and walked away.
sight unseen, to a post office box
¶ Hour three of eight. An easy day of
across the country in New York City.
freelance work. Boring, but easy.
This warchest is built upon this trust,
¶ I rely on this job, one day a week, as
and I plan to go out swinging, making
a means of catching up on my reading.
proud those who sent each dollar
without knowing whether or not I’d
keep up my end of the bargain.
¶ I’ve done my best for those sincere.
On the way over, before boarding the
Jersey-bound PATH at the World Trade
Center, I buy a few fluff weeklies—
Newsweek, Time, Entertainment
And fuck everyone else.
Weekly—plus whatever trade rags ar e
current—MacWeek, MacUser, et cetera.
I take them to this job, along with the
I am amazed at how easily former
latest laser proofs of Crank, and get
friends can suddenly embody everything
some real work done. It’s a short trip
I detest. Short-sightedness. Small-town
under the river to Exchange Place, the
dreaming. Premature breeding. Trend
first stop on the PATH line, and then a
jumping.
5-block walk to the site. E-Z.
¶ Trend jumping. Like cigar smoking.
Fucking cigar smoking.
¶ I was recently told that friends from
my youth—good friends (best friends,
¶ Last week, I billed this company for
seven and a half hours. Of that, three
were billable by my ad hoc boss; in
even) at the time—have become cigar
other words, I only worked for three
smokers. Crimony. It’s deplorable.
hours. The other four and a half are
¶ But, then again, they live in the
considered downtime, a price my client
suburbs. A couple have married; one
pays to have me “on call.” Without me
has a kid. What else is there to do?
there, a job could face delays while they
After beating each other at the latest
waited to call in a freelancer. And that,
Nintendo or Sega game, there’s not
in the hectic world of advertising and
much else to do. So why not start
print production, could mean the
smoking cigars with the boys at the
difference between happy clients and
local Bennigans?
sad clients. So, four and a half hours of
¶ It’s frightening.
downtime is a small price.
¶ And hell, they’ll bill someone for that
time. Someone down the line, without
I choke it all
knowing it, will pay my wage. It’ll be
back, the
hidden in the cost of a print job. Maybe
aggression of
the paper will get marked up an extra 3
one thousand
percent. Or, better yet, mark up the
hungry,
freight—everyone marks up the freight.
mongrel
dogs. It’s
tough work,
demanding
more
discipline than
any shit job
48 #6
I’ve ever had.
Well, bully to you.
E
veryone knows how much fun “found” things can be—letters, photos, shopping lists, the like. But this is the Information Age, goddamn!
Picking up scraps of paper is just so low-tech. Me? I pick floppy disks out of the trash. God bless the Macintosh—the following letter was
converted from a PC floppy found coming off the N-train near NYU. Isn’t this woman too young to get sucked into such nonsense?! (Spelling
errors were left intact. I was going to mark them all, but it became tedious. There were just too many. So much for higher education.) I’m
convinced that it’s real because the floppy also contained a number of term papers, all of which contained similar spelling errors and
incredible examples of ignorance. Perhaps I’ll publish one of those next issue.
May 13, 1995
Dear Mr. Swaggart,
I watched your show this morning for the first time and it was very
inspirational to me. I have scanneed past this channel on many occasions
but for some reason while I was crying the television turned on and there
you were talking to me. I might have accidentily turned the TV on but it
happened. I am only 20 years old and I have an unbeleivable amount of stress
in my life. If its not one thing its the next. To add to the stress of home,
school, and work, i recently found I why I have been feeling so sick. I
found out that I have Anemia and that it is not safe for me to have children
because I might die in child birth. My boyfreind says that he will be there
for me but he started to pull away from me. He is a born again christian
but he does not act like one so he had turned me completely off to the
spirit of God. For some time now I have felt somekind of emptiness in my
heart but I didn’t understand why until today. Mr. Swaggart, your sermon
today deeply moved me. I didn’t understand until today how someone could
have such a great love for God. I prayed with you and I want to learn more.
I have just accepted that God is my savior and that his son died for all
of my sins. I also now believe that God loves me no matter what goes wrong.
I have this inner faith that is so new to me. I just want to thank you for
changing my life. I am deeply greatful.
Peace and Love,
Sincerely,
Theresa M. Jacobs
50 #6
51
#6
Dumb Like a Fox…
Because so many readers have asked, I am presenting the full
stor y behind the creation, production and destruction of Highball.
Crank enthusiasts will remember that wonderful little mag. Truth
be told, though I was credited as the Assistant Editor and Ar t
Director, I was, in fact, the functioning Editor of that swell little
pub. Jeff Fox, the chap listed on the masthead, didn’t do shit to
produce that magazine; rather, he sat in his parent-funded Los
Angeles apartment and faxed his proofreading to the Publisher, a
decent-enough guy named Steve Grasse, owner of Gyro, the
Philadelphia ad agency which funded the project.
Background: Fox had a little zine called Die Evan Dando, Die.
It got lots of press, because of the title. It was controversial, man.
Don’t be fooled—it had nothing to do with Evan Dando. But Fox
tried to pretend that his little one-off was important. Fact is, Die
Evan Dando, Die was a piece shit, a novelty act, a one-shot he
was unable to sustain because it had no legs.
But he did get a lot of press. And that’s how Steve Grasse
found him and offered him the chance to develop a new independent magazine. Fox, a Crank fanatic, tracked me down and recruited
me for the project. See, Fox was out of ideas and he has little creative instinct. (He’s the kind of guy more comfortable as a headline-writer, someone who should be writing clever captions at a
local newspaper.) And although I wasn’t overly-impressed with his
little zine or his writing in general, I did need money. Plus, I thought
this job could lead to bigger things, like a full-time job at Gyro.
(Which I was, indeed, offered.) So I agreed to work with him.
52
#6
The original concept behind Highball—a once-and-for-all lampoon of the 1960’s stag magazine craze—was mine, conjured in a
drunken haze at a West Philadelphia bar near my apartment. See,
the Cocktail Nation had reached its underground peak—the mainstream press and fashion were about to exploit it. The days of finding a swank polyester sweater vest at the local Salvation Army
were over—they were starting to sell for $20 at the vintage shops.
And the zine world had beaten the retro look to death (myself
included), so it seemed like the right time and place for Highball.
Steve Grasse loved the idea and asked for an estimate. I came
in low—about seven hundred bucks for the job of production manager and eight or so to act as Art Director (a job I inherited when
our original choice was too busy.) That’s fucking peanuts for the
amount of work I expected to do, but I wanted the chance to produce this thing. I wanted to see Highball on the stands, a full-color
glossy with my name on it.
Right away, we had problems. Fox is a fucking priss. A big
pussy of a man, all “boo-hoo”s and “me-me”s when the publisher
and I hit it off. I poured my heart into that publication, spending
countless days and nights rewriting Fox’s adolescent prose; I wrote
photo captions when Fox proved incapable of the simplest editorial
duties. I sat with the publisher while he bitched about Fox being
such a “fucking weasel.” And that’s just exactly what he turned out
to be: after designing the logo, initial layouts and agreeing to
reprint Crank articles free of charge, I found out that Fox had
fucked me over. He had negotiated ownership rights to the
magazine behind my back.
…The Story of Highball
Motherfucker.
So I pulled out, taking the logo, art direction and layouts with
me. (They were, and remain, my intellectual property.) Naturally, he
panicked and called me on the verge of tears, knowing full-well
that Highball was dead without me, and agreed to give me a piece
of his piece of the action. (Steve Grasse, rightly, refused to dip into
his 60% holding.) I took a 17% interest in All Things Highball. That
included anything bearing the Highball name and anything resulting
from the original magazine. I’ve got a letter signed by the Publisher
to that effect and a handshake agreement with Fox. (The letter is
all that matters—Fox was not the majority owner and would have
no legal ground to stand on in the event of a cour t battle.)
So with the ownership debacle behind us, I wrote my ass off.
I edited Fox’s crap. I picked through bad photos from volunteer photographers. I even wrote a screenplay for Highball: The Movie, which
Grasse pitched to MTV and a few independent film companies, all
of whom said it was too offensive for their liking (see pages 54-55).
Overall, Highball was a hit. A great magazine which simultaneously
satirized and functioned as a stag magazine. As you know, I am
quite fond of simultaneous satire and function, which is why
Highball has that distinctive “Koyen flavor.” Or so I’m told.
But with all the tension and problems, we decided to stop publishing. (Admittedly, the best thing, considering my hatred for Fox
and his fear of me.) Fox was unable to secure the distribution he
had promised, and Grasse lost too much money. I moved to New
York (the ownership letter safely tucked away), and forgot about
Highball.
But, two years later, Jeff Fox has tried to fuck me again.
In August, 1996, I came across Hollywood Highball, issue #2.
(We had re-named Highball to Hollywood Highball soon after publication because we discovered that Highball was already in use.) It
was the same old crap—a remake of the stag magazine. Bad titty
pictures, the “Bachelor Girl” centerfold (my title), and some car
tips. Basically, it was the magazine equivalent of a cigar bar—a
passing trend that will appeal to dimwits and would-be’s. Namely,
the exact thing we had satirized in the previous issue. It was, basically, a remake of the original Highball, only without the subtlety
and humor. It doesn’t satirize and function—it has become a victim of its own parody. Fox, as I had known all along, is confirmed
to be creatively bankrupt.
I’ve got news for Jef f Fox. I hope that Hollywood Highball sells a
billion fucking copies, because I OWN 17% of his derivative little
publication. And FUCK HIM if he thinks, for even a minute, that he
will ever ride my coattails by stealing my work.
Dear Jeff Fox
Fuck you. Fuck you. Fuck you. No, no, please: fuck you.
FUCK YOU.
I should have placed faith in Amy’s first impression of you: “an
ugly, stuck-up rich-kid jerkoff” and “fucking asshole.” She was right
about your whiny voice, your pot-belly and sunken chest—you’re a
fucking Momma’s Boy, an artfag would-be, subsidized by your parents
with dreams of stardom dancing in your vacant head.
Fuck you. Fuck you. Fuck you. And fuck Hollywood Highball. My
lawyer—and I am so fucking pissed that I even had to find a goddamn
lawyer—has already contacted Steve Grasse, who conceded that I
own 17% of that little pub. So where’s my compensation? Well, predictably, he claimed poverty. Those full-page ads from MTV and Camel
were freebies; they’re Gyro clients. (My ass. The fact is, the cost of
those ads will be hidden somewhere. So while Grasse “gives away”
those ads to make Hollywood Highball look credible to other advertisers, his agency likely got paid by inflating the cost of other jobs.)
To paraphrase Grasse: “When and if Hollywood Highball makes
money, Koyen will get his share.”
So, Jeff Fox, go ahead and get rich, asshole. Go ahead and blow
the X-Large crew for publicity and free time on their Macs. (We all
know that you’re a queer in denial. Give my regards to those ugly
gashes you tried to parade around—you must’ve taken them from
behind, staring at all that dark, coarse pussy hair wrapping around to
their asses, dreaming of manly stovepipe.) Go ahead and try for that
Big Hollywood Highball Deal—I’ll be right behind you; I own seventeen
percent of your zit-scarred ass.
When I accept my Pulitzer, I’ll think about pissing in your face.
When I accept my Academy Award, I’ll dream of shitting in your mother’s mouth. (If she’s dead by then, I’ll dig her corpse up, pry open her
jaws with a crowbar and then shit in her mouth.) And when I die, a
happy, wealthy, revered man, I will have forgotten you, years past,
because your type of non-talent lives in fleeting moments of leeching
association.
—Jeff Koyen
PS: All you had to do was change the fucking
name of the goddamn magazine and start over
with issue #1. You’re such a stupid fucking
weasel idiot. Stupid. STU-PID. And if I ever see
you on the street—and I mean this with 100% of
my murky heart—I will jump you, beat you and
trample your scrawny, frail bones into the dust.
I’m bigger, meaner and wiser than you, so don’t
doubt for a minute that I’m capable of getting
away with such violence.
Turn the page for some sample scenes from Highball: The Movie. I’m printing them here to assert my ownership
and copyright. I never bothered to register it with the Screenwriters’ Guild; I just never got around to it. But if I
know Steve Grasse, he’s got a copy tucked away in a file somewhere with his name on it. I just don’t want to see
a preview for my movie one day while I’m out catching the latest flick at the cineplex.
For the litigious: Although it currently bears the “Highball” name, this screenplay is still my property and I can
do whatever I feel like with it. I still own this screenplay 100%. Not 17%. No. One hundred percent. I never sold it
as a Highball product, so it remains the author’s property. Namely, me.
If anyone is interested in producing this fine, fine (though possibly dated) movie, please get in touch.
And there’s always more where this came from.
53
#6
Excerpts from Highball: The Movie
by Jeff Koyen and no one else
HIGHBALL
SUMMARY
Marlin Dower, a 25-year old unemployed cab driver, is looking for a change of pace. With his
meager savings, he buys a car at a government
auction in Maryland. For two grand, he scoops up
a very large, mechanically-intact, beat-up convertible. It’s a 1961 Lincoln 4-door ragtop, to
be exact—the only model 4-door convertible
offered to the postwar general public. With his
last 500 bills, he gets an Earle Shive paint job
and decides to hit the road.
Unbeknownst to Marlin and the auctioneers, his
new Lincoln is the very car that hosted the
assassination of JFK. After Jack’s death in
Texas, the car continued to see government use
for a number of years. Sometime in the 70’s,
however, it was warehoused and forgotten.
Equally sick of their stagnant lives, Marlin’s
only two friends, Matt and Charlie, quit their
jobs, dump their girls, and climb in for a ride
that won’t be over until someone’s liver gives
out.
---------------Spanning half the states in this country, and
twice as many women, their trip epitomizes the
lifestyle that this country could be leading in
1995, if only John F. Kennedy hadn’t pussied-out
and died from that bullet. If only Jack had
lived to see his Camelot come into being, things
would be a lot different today.
HIGHBALL
SUMMARY (CONT.)
It used to be...
One for the Road...Just Two Martinis at Lunch...
Three’s a Crowd (When One’s the Wife)...and Four
Fingers with a Dash of Tonic.
Now, with all the pressure to be a responsible,
social human being, it’s...
Don’t Do This...Don’t Do That...Respect
This...Respect That...Keep Your Opinions to
Yourself...Be a Good Boy and Eat Crow.
Well, Marlin, Matt and Charlie are sending a big
Fuck You to everyone who has forgotten how to
have FUN. They’re going to live the life everyone wants to live. No worries. No problems. And
NO REGRETS.
Can they manage it without self-destructing? Will
life On The Road prove to be too rigorous? And
can they REALLY make it across the United States
in the Car That Saw Jack Die without introducing
Plastic FBI Secret Agent Characters as a Cheap
Plot Device??
Yes. No. And big, fat, fucking YES.
No Titty-Movie Plots and No Cardboard Bad Guys.
The only plotting will be done on a map, and the
only bad guys will Mr. Liquor and his Merry Band
of Pranksters.
---------------Obnoxious fun. In the name of indulgence. Hell,
it’s just plain, good entertainment, like a
cheap six-pack and a 10-dollar hand job.
54
#6
HIGHBALL
EXT. HIGHWAY - NIGHT
The Lincoln travels a small-town
highway. Marlin drives; Matt naps in
the passenger seat; Charlie casually
watches the surroundings from the back
bench.
They pass a trailer park. In front of
one trailer, in the light of a cheap
hurricane lamp, a big, fat white trash
bastard smacks around his bitch. She’s
bleeding on her forehead from the
impact of a beer bottle.
CHARLIE
(shaking Matt awake)
Holy shit! Shouldn’t we help that
woman? Marlin, turn around!
MATT
(groggy)
Shut the FUCK up, Charlie.
MARLIN
Yeh, shut the fuck up. The bars in
Tempe close at 1, and we’re 200 miles
away. She’ll be fine.
55
#6
AT THE MIGRAINES
OF MADNESS
Amusing Tales of Mindfuckery
by Dan Kelly
Up to the eighth day of your five allowable sick
days? Think it’s safe to assume the boss isn’t
buying the ol’ cough-’n’-sneeze-through-a-pillow phone routine? Don’t call in sick—call in
crazy! In these times of disgruntled workers
clocking in with shotguns and downsizing their
fellow wage slaves, it’s a safe bet that a wellplaced declaration of insanity will encourage the
boss to keep you as “gruntled” as possible.
But let’s suppose he doesn’t believe that God told
you to catch an afternoon movie; or that flesh-eating skinbugs from Mars are crawling all over you,
compelling you to watch Oprah. Well, as always,
your good friends at Crank are ready to assist.
Listed in this article are a few of the more
bizarre denizens of the world of mental illness.
After dazzling the bossman with the following
symptoms, don’t be surprised if he gives you the
whole year off, with pay, just to keep you the
hell away.
Writer’s Note: Coincidence bites. I myself was vomiting blood over this piece a month before an
infotainment blurb shilling “Eccentric and Bizar re Behaviors” (see references, pg. 60) appeared in the
December 1996 issue of Men's Health. The blurb makes the same gag about calling in insane, but that’s
where the similarities end. Let it be known that if I ever consciously rip off a mainstream prettyboy mag
like Men’s Health, I have given Jeff Koyen permission to hunt me down, kill me, and toss my wretched
corpse into a frathouse’s septic tank. I realize that reader cross-over between Crank and Men's Health is
minimal, at best, but professional pride and my own personal OCD tell me to set the record straight, no
matter how unlikely the fallout. De gustibus non es disputandum, you nitpicking scum.
57
#6
likened to seeing a mirror image of yourself,
CAPGRAS SYNDROME
If someone you know isn’t acting quite like
standing in open air. One subject, a thirty-year-
themselves, you might think little of it. If every-
old man, had the queer delusion of seeing his
body you know appears to not be themselves, you
own face staring back at him, mimicking his
could be developing a nasty case of Capgras syn-
every expression. The man enjoyed “punishing”
drome. First described in 1923 by French psychia-
the offending visage by contorting his face into
trists Capgras and Reboul-Lachaux, the syndrome
uncomfortable expressions, which the face was
crops up in several varieties.
then obligated to match. He could also be found
shadowboxing, or rather “mirage-boxing” with
With a dose of the basic Capgras syndrome, the
afflicted belie ves that either someone or every-
the illusory image; pummeling the face before
one they know has been “replaced,” thereupon
him into a bruised and bloody mess.
converting their life into yet another remake of Invasion of the Body Snatchers. Take
Fregoli’s delusion delves still deeper into the world of psychotic conspiratorial para-
the example of the fifty-year-old Protestant pastor who developed the creeping para-
noia. In Fregoli delusion, not only has everyone been replaced, they’ve been replaced
noia that his wife wasn’t who she said she was. So suspicious was he of this stranger
by the same person. To elucidate: your wife, your children, your next door neighbor,
in his home, the minister slept with a machete under his pillow, just in case.
Officer Bob down on the corner: they could be themselves today, but tomorrow, they
Eventually, for both his and her safety, he was committed. When confronted with his
could be him, the guy who’s got it in for you (whoever he may be). Fregoli sufferers
are apt to live their lives in spy novel fashion, continually changing their routes to
spouse, the clergyman shrieked, “Who are you? Where’s my wife?”
The poor woman insisted she was his wife, but the pastor remained unconvinced.
His psychiatrist then made the mistake of pressing the issue. Yes, he told the con-
confound pursuers, and maintaining constant surveillance on their persecutors, if
only to be certain that they don’t metamorphize once more.
fused pastor, this was indeed his wife of many years. The pastor thought for a
moment, then lunged at her, beating her with a flurry of slaps and punches.
“Now I know who you are!” he raged. “You’re the one who’s been putting poison in
COTARD’S SYNDROME
Cotard’s syndrome can take a lot of fun out of the average schizophrenic’s life. More
accurately, it can take the life out of the average schizophrenic. A somewhat common
my food!”
The minister was seized, strapped down, and then went away for a while; and there,
delusion, Cotard’s syndrome convinces the afflicted that they are either dying or
already dead. Oftentimes, patients with Cotard’s aren’t as bothered by being “dead” as
unfortunately, is where my sources leave off.
Another variation on the syndrome is autoscopy. An autoscopic experience is best
you or I might be. In fact, most report having “died” several times in their lives (not
Ad
58
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so coincidentally before, during or after
splitting headache. As sympathetic doctors and
periods of great emotional trauma).
nurses prepared the usual tests, she asked to
In a few cases, Cotard’s syndrome pro-
use the restroom first. She was found dead a
vides a grotesque twist to Capgras syn-
few hours later, surrounded by a purseload of
drome. In one case study, a schizo-
antibiotics, laxatives, disinfectant pads, a
phrenic gentleman referred to as “Mr.
syringe, and a bag filled with white powder.
A.” not only believed he was dead, but
Did the woman OD on smack or speed? Nope.
that everyone on the planet was too. Creepier still,
the rest of us were real live meat puppets, our skins
consisting of chicken flesh and our internal organs
of hot dog parts. Not a pretty picture, as
The poor confused lass had been mainlining
MUNCHAUSEN’S
SYNDROME
cornstarch for so long, it finally dammed up and
blocked the blood flow in her arteries.
MUNCHAUSEN’S
SYNDROME BY PROXY
Other factitious disorder patients, primarily med-
author/psychologist Richard Noll points out. The
Named after famed 18th century aristocrat and
ical personnel—most Munchausen sufferers have
image of rotting wiener automatons slowly peeling
world-class fibber Baron Von Munchausen (see the
had medical training at some time in their lives)—
apart before Mr. A.’s horrified eyes must make a bad
Terry Gilliam movie for details), this syndrome
practice the fine art of phlebotomy (i.e. vein-tap-
acid trip feel like Caribbean cruise by comparison.
turns its victims into adept fabulists themselves.
ping). One woman was known to draw blood from
Munchausen victims possess a driving need for
her arm with a syringe, then swallow it, thus jerry-
medical attention, whether it’s required or not.
rigging herself to vomit plasma on command.
Going to elaborate lengths to convince medical per-
Another would withdraw as much blood as she
narrator must confess that he’s dug up precious lit-
sonnel that they just know that something is wrong
deemed necessary to "relax," flushing the results
tle information. It sounds terribly intriguing, how-
with them, the Munchausen “patient” can have
down the toilet (she "relaxed" herself into a life-
ever, as the state’s chief characteristic is the delu-
doctors scratching their heads for weeks on end as
threatening case of anemia as a result). Other
sion that one has been “infested.” Infested with
they attempt to diagnose a disease that isn’t there.
queasy practices include overdosing on aspirin to
what, however, is a matter of conjecture; but my
When the jig is finally up, though, and the patient
develop internal bleeding; gobbling down rat poi-
guess is that flesh-eating skinbugs from Mars aren’t
is dismissed as a malinger, he or she simply moves
son, which poisons rat and patient both with war-
too far off the mark.
on to the next hospital or doctor for yet another
farin, an anticoagulant; and, in the ultimate bit of
EKBOM’S SYNDROME
In the case of this little delirium, your humble
idiocy, forcing a knitting needle up one's bunghole
battery of tests.
Cosmic irony being
so as to lacerate one's colon, thereby ensuring
what it is, Munchausen
bloody bowel movements for weeks to come. Jeesh.
patients
and I always thought blood pudding was consumed,
often
get
what they wish for.
not expelled.
tests,
Munchausen Syndrome by Proxy (MSP), on the
treatments and surgery
other hand, spares the patient from the above nas-
can conjure up horrific
tiness. MSP primarily afflicts women with children
Unnecessary
results—life-threaten-
who seem to get sick a little too often. Yep, despite
ing
and
constant visits to the doctor, hospital or emergency
amputations
room, the children of MSP patients foster perpetual,
are not uncommon.
undiagnosable upset tummies, skin lesions and/or
One subject had been
bloodied stools, among other unpleasantness.
infections
painful
exposed to so many X-
Small wonder. MSP mothers have such a jones for
rays during the course
the warm fuzzy feeling they get when everyone
of his “medical career,”
tells them what conscientious parents they are,
he developed a nasty
they do everything they can to make damned sure
case of leukemia for his
Junior never gets back up to snuff. Injecting their
troubles.
kids with shit, piss and saliva; cutting their milk
Another subject, a
and cookies with everything in the medical cabinet;
woman,
sticking them with needles and pins or gouging out
showed up for her
pimples and scabs with their fingernails; withhold-
appointment
with
ing food and water; strangling the little buggers
complaints of chills,
until they pass out; and cutting off the blood flow
steady fever, and a
to their tiny little brains, so as to induce “epilepsy”
31-year-old
59
#6
are just a few of the tricks that MSP moms employ to keep
Trichophagy adds a disgusting spin on the plucking compulsion by causing the afflicted not only to yank
their kidlings hospital-bound, and themselves on the
out her hair, but eat it as well. In 1986, Iranian sur geons removed a 4.4-pound hairball from the stomach of
“Mom of the Year” pedestal. At least until the doctors put
a twenty-four-year-old woman who had been gobbling the stuff down for over twenty years. And you thought
two and two together, and mumsy dearest is up on child
your cat could cough up some nastiness!
abuse charges.
OBSESSIVE-COMPULSIVE
DISORDER
A disorder so positively banal in its way, everyone
seems to think they have OCD in some small measure.
Bringing up the disorder in conversation usually provokes
•••••••••••••••
Dan Kelly is a man on a mission: to produce as many goddamn independent publications as possible before he 1) dies,
2) becomes successful and therefore has no more need of indie pubs, or 3) runs dry like that cunt Darby (those are the editor’s words, not Mr. Kelly’s.)
To order Chum, Danger! or whatever the fuck else he’s just gotten back from the printer, send $3 cash to PO Box 148390,
Chicago, IL 60614. If you’re interested in extended, frivolous conversation, or maybe even a date, send your sonnets to
[email protected].
a “can-you-top-this” competition among those present, re:
their personal obsessions with numbers, food, grooming,
and so forth. True, everyone has their amusing quirks, but
hardcore OCD cases aren’t composed so much of humorous
little twitches than numbingly pathetic, life-ruining exercises in futility.
Hand washing is by far the most common manifesta-
BIBLIOGRAPHY AND
SUGGESTED READINGS
Baur, Susan, The Dinosaur Man: Tales of Madness and Enchantment from the Back Ward, New York, Edward Burlingame Books, 1991. (Mawkish
pap that canonizes the insane. Nice schizophrenic dialogues, though.)
Feldman, M.D., and Charles V. Ford, M.D., Marc, Patient or Pretender: Inside the Strange World of Factitious Disorder s, New York, John Wiley &
Sons, Inc., 1994. (TV news magazine paraded pop-psych. Fairly compelling, sometimes grisly, tales of Munchausen syndrome patients.)
Franzini and John M. Grossberg, Louis, Eccentric & Bizarre Behaviors, New York, John Wiley & Sons, Inc., 1995. (In the intro, Franzini and
Grossberg claim that they “tried to emphasize that you will be reading about human beings, not ‘patients’ or ‘cases’ or ‘diagnoses.’” What they
meant to say is that this book is a frag grenade of mental mindfuckery. Amazing bits on the above subjects, in addition to necrophilia, frottage,
tion of OCD. Patients spend hours at the sink, washing
their hands to flush away germs, viruses, feelings of stickiness and plain old dirt. Some, in their zeal to achieve
perfect sterility, give up on soap and water, switching to
Top Job, Mr. Clean, and other industrial cleansers. Their
hands get clean all right—so clean, they bleed. Out,
damn spot, indeed!
Other OCD patients become obsessed with numbers:
counting off every step, chew, blink, street lamp or fence
post they pass, “knowing” that if they don’t, some terrible, inexplicable, indefinable thing might happen. Others
are compelled to keep their homes neat and clean; so neat
and clean, they lose their jobs or spouses as they spend
hours, days, or weeks making sure everything is just-so.
In still another manifestation, one patient would become
“stuck” halfway through any doorway he passed through.
If a friend or family member didn’t happen along to push
him through, he’d stand in the doorway for hours, staring
up at its right-hand corner to make absolu-positively,
without a doubt, for damn sure certain that he was negotiating his entrance properly.
Another bizarre OCD practice, found mostly in women,
is trichotillomania—obsessive hair-pulling. These women
don’t simply twist or twirl their flowing locks, but yank it
out wholesale, roots and all. Inveterate trichotillomaniacs
can raze their entire bodies of scalp hair, eyebrows, eyelashes, pubic and body hair, strictly through unmindful
plucking. One subject, in fact, developed an overwhelming
desire to keep her eyelashes and eyebrows in perfect balance. After tweezing them to oblivion, she achieved her
ideal through the miracle of false eyelashes and eyebrow
pencil. Beneath it all, however, she was as bald as an egg.
60 #6
autoerotic asphyxia, and more.)
Noll, Richard, Bizarre Diseases of the Mind, New York, Berkley, 1990. (Trifle. A spottier version of the above book, but entertaining nonetheless.)
Prins, Herschel, Bizarre Behaviors: Boundaries of Psychiatric Disorder, New York, Routledge, 1990. (Accessible, but a tad highbrow. Strangely, all
these books have a fascination with references to Shakespeare, Victor Hugo, Robert Louis Stevenson, and other literary bigwig s. Trying to make
that English minor pay off, eh bo ys?)
Rapoport, M.D., Judith L., The Boy Who Couldn’t Stop Washing, New York, E.P. Dutton, 1989. (Incredible, braincrunching tales of OCD patients.
I’ve barely scratched the surface in this article.)
Sacks, Oliver, The Man Who Mistook His Wife for a Hat and Other Clinical Tales, New York, Harper Perennial, 1990. (Highly recommended; no
library should be without it. L-dopa fix me, all right.)
SLICES OF LIFE
Photo by a drunken
Jeff Koyen, 1987.
It was a pitch black room,
no shit; thank god those
snappy disc cameras had such
an amazing shutter action.
The subject is a fellow I knew
in school. Damned if I can
remember his name, though.
He couldn’t drink anyway, so
as far as losses are concerned,
he doesn’t register.
Crank fans show their
support in this, the first
(and last) reader photo collage.
Boy, was this a bad idea…
61
#6
THE CRANK DRUG
INTERACTION GUIDE
FOR BAD DRUNKS WITH
NO REGARD FOR THEMSELVES
Drinking tonight? Note these drug interactions:
PROZAC
Using alcohol and Prozac together may increase the possibility of
ACETAMINOPHEN
Drinking too much alcohol may increase the risk of liver damage
from high doses of acetaminophen. Alcohol increases the level of
an enzyme that turns acetaminophen into a toxic substance.
Furthermore, livers already weakened by hepatitis or other viruses
are especially vulnerable.*
NOTE: Acetaminophen isn’t just in Tylenol, but also Excedrin and a
slew of other OTC and prescription drugs. Check the label,
especially for the ’scripted pills, since they’re not required to
include a warning on the bottle itself.
side effects such as drowsiness, dizziness, lightheadedness, as
well as the possibility of causing impairment of judgment.
GOING THROUGH CHEMO? CONSIDER THIS:
While small amounts of alcohol can help you relax and increase
your appetite, alcohol may interact with some drugs to reduce
their effectiveness or worsen their side effects. For this reason,
some people must drink less alcohol or avoid alcohol completely
during chemotherapy. Be sure to ask your doctor if it’s okay for you
to drink beer, wine, or other alcoholic beverages.
CHLORPROPAMIDE
Use of alcohol can cause flushing, hypotension, nausea and
vomiting.
PLANNING ON A LONG LIFE? THEN GET READY:
• While memory loss is an important marker for depression,
DDI (VIDEX)
Use of alcohol may increase risk of pancreatitis.
ISOCARBOXAZID, PHENELZINE, TRANYLCYPROMINE
Avoid wine, which is rich in tyramine, because tyramine can cause
potentially lethal increases in blood pressure, headache, vomiting,
possibly death.
alcohol also leads to forgetfulness and should always be
considered when examining an individual’s problems with
memory and retention.
• Heavy drinking is associated with cancers of the mouth, throat,
esophagus and liver. Cancer risk is especially high for heavy
drinkers who smoke.
ISONIAZID (INH)
Use of alcohol may increase risk of isoniazid-associated hepatitis.
• The risk of obstruction of the prostate due to enlargement is
KETOCONAZOLE (NIZORAL)
Use of alcohol may increase risk of nausea, vomiting, low blood
pressure.
• Alcoholism has been linked to pancreatitis (inflammation of the
METRONIDAZOLE
Use of alcohol can cause flushing, hypotension, nausea and
vomiting.
RECOMMENDED VITAMINS FOR DRUNKS:
increased by the consumption of alcohol.
pancreas), but definite proof has not been found.
To counteract the effects of alcohol on your system, you might
consider supplementing your diet B-complex vitamins and folic
PROCARBAZINE
Do not drink alcoholic beverages, including beer and wines, as
they can cause very dangerous reactions.
acid, since alcohol increases their turnover in your body.
For a more complete list, consult the next page.
*But then again, a certain Antonio Benedi was awarded eight-point-eight million bucks after losing his liver due to taking Tylenol and drinking wine. Though the plaintiff’s lawyers
claim that Mr. Benedi was a “moderate” drinker—two to four glasses of wine each day—the smart money just knows that he was a pill-popping boozer. So, while there’s a
strong precedent set—one lost liver against some nine million clams—your chances of finding a second sympathetic jury are slim. Maybe you should just skip the Tylenol. I do.
62 #6
THREE VITAMIN REGIMENTS
FOR
DRUNKS
Daily Doses:
FOR SUPPORT
FOR WITHDRAWAL
FOR DETOX
(MAINTENANCE)
(ON THE WAGON)
(“RECOVERY”)
Water . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 2 1/2-3 qt . . . . . . . . . . . 3-4 qt . . . . . . . . . . . . . 3 qt
Protein. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 60-80 g. . . . . . . . . . . . 50-70 g . . . . . . . . . . . 75-100 g
Fats . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 30-50 g. . . . . . . . . . . . 30-50 g. . . . . . . . . . . . 50-65 g
Fiber . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 15-20 g. . . . . . . . . . . . 10-15 g. . . . . . . . . . . . 30-40 g
Vitamin A. . . . . . . . . . . . . 10,000 IUs . . . . . . . . . . 5,000 IUs . . . . . . . . . . 10,000 IUs
Beta-carotene . . . . . . . . . . 25,000 IUs . . . . . . . . . . 20,000 IUs . . . . . . . . . . 20,000 IUs
Vitamin D . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 200 IUs . . . . . . . . . . . . 400 IUs . . . . . . . . . . . . 400 IUs
Vitamin E. . . . . . . . . . . . . 400-800 IUs . . . . . . . . . . 400 IUs . . . . . . . . . . . . 800 IUs
Vitamin K. . . . . . . . . . . . . . 300 mcg . . . . . . . . . . . 300 mcg . . . . . . . . . . . 500 mcg
Thiamine (B1). . . . . . . . . . . . 100 mg . . . . . . . . . . . 50-100 mg . . . . . . . . . . . 150 mg
Riboflavin (B2) . . . . . . . . . . . 100 mg . . . . . . . . . . . 50-100 mg . . . . . . . . . . . 150 mg
Niacinamide (B3) . . . . . . . . . . 50 mg . . . . . . . . . . . . . 50 mg . . . . . . . . . . . . . 50 mg
Niacin (B3) . . . . . . . . . . . . 50-150 mg . . . . . . . . . 100-1,000 mg . . . . . . . . 200-2,000 mg
Pantothenic acid (B5) . . . . . . 250 mg . . . . . . . . . . . 1,000 mg . . . . . . . . . . . 500 mg
Pyridoxine (B 6). . . . . . . . . . . 100 mg . . . . . . . . . . . . 200 mg . . . . . . . . . . . . 100 mg
Pyridoxal-5-phosphate . . . . . . 50 mg . . . . . . . . . . . . 100 mg . . . . . . . . . . . . 50 mg
Cobalamin (B12) . . . . . . . . . . 100 mcg . . . . . . . . . . . 200 mcg . . . . . . . . . . . 250 mcg
Folic acid . . . . . . . . . . . . 800-1,000 mcg . . . . . . . . 2,000 mcg. . . . . . . . . . . 800 mcg
Biotin . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 300 mcg . . . . . . . . . . . 500 mcg . . . . . . . . . . . 500 mcg
Choline . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 500 mg . . . . . . . . . . . 1,000 mg . . . . . . . . . . 1,5000 mg
Inositol. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 500 mg . . . . . . . . . . . 1,000 mg . . . . . . . . . . . 1,500 mg
Vitamin C . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 2-4 g . . . . . . . . . . . . . 5-25 g. . . . . . . . . . . . . 5-10 g
Bioflavonoids. . . . . . . . . . . . 250 mg . . . . . . . . . . . . 500 mg . . . . . . . . . . . . 500 mg
Calcium . . . . . . . . . . . . . 850-1,000 mg . . . . . . . 1,000-1,5000 mg . . . . . . . . 1,000 mg
Chromium. . . . . . . . . . . . . . 500 mcg . . . . . . . . . . 5-1,000mcg . . . . . . . . . . 300 mcg
Copper . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 3 mg. . . . . . . . . . . . . . 3 mg . . . . . . . . . . . . . 3-4 mg
Iodine . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 150 mcg . . . . . . . . . . . 150 mcg . . . . . . . . . . . 150 mcg
Iron . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 20-30 mg. . . . . . . . . . . 10-18 mg . . . . . . . . . . . . 20 mg
Magnesium. . . . . . . . . . . . 500-800 mg . . . . . . . . 800-1,000 mg . . . . . . . . 600-800 mg
Manganese . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 5 mg . . . . . . . . . . . . . 15 mg . . . . . . . . . . . . . 10 mg
Molybdenum. . . . . . . . . . . . 300 mcg . . . . . . . . . . . 300 mcg . . . . . . . . . . . 300 mcg
Potassium . . . . . . . . . . . . 300-500 mg . . . . . . . . . . 500 mg . . . . . . . . . . . . 300 mg
Selenium . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 300 mcg . . . . . . . . . . . 150 mcg . . . . . . . . . . . 200 mcg
Silicon . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 100 mg . . . . . . . . . . . . 50 mg. . . . . . . . . . . . . 200mg
Vanadium. . . . . . . . . . . . . . 150 mcg . . . . . . . . . . . 150 mcg . . . . . . . . . . . 150 mcg
Zinc . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 45-75 mg. . . . . . . . . . . 50-75 mg . . . . . . . . . . 50-100 mg
Flaxseed oil. . . . . . . . . . . . 1 teaspoon . . . . . . . . . 2 teaspoons . . . . . . . . . 2 teaspoons
Gamma-linolenic. . . . . . . . . 3 capsules . . . . . . . . . . 3 capsules . . . . . . . . . . 6 capsules
(40-60 mg/cap)
L-amino acids . . . . . . . . 1,000-1,5000 mg . . . . . . 1,500-3,000 mg . . . . . . 5,000-7,500 mg
L-glutamine . . . . . . . . . . 500-1,000 mg . . . . . . . 1,500-3,000 mg . . . . . . 1,000-2,000 mg
L-tryptophan. . . . . . . . . . 500-1,000 mg . . . . . . . 2,000-3,000 mg . . . . . . . 500-1,000 mg
(if needed for sleep)
Thioctic acid . . . . . . . . . . . . 100 mg . . . . . . . . . . . . 100 mg . . . . . . . . . . . . 200 mg
L-cysteine . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 250 mg . . . . . . . . . . . . 250mg . . . . . . . . . . . 250-500 mg
Glutathione . . . . . . . . . . . . . 250 mg . . . . . . . . . . . . 500 mg . . . . . . . . . . . . 250 mg
(if available)
Digestive enzymes . . . . . . . . . . — . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . — . . . . . . . . . . . 1-2 after meals
Goldenseal root . . . . . . . . . . . . — . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . —. . . . . . . . . . . . . 3 capsules
White willow bark . . . . . . . 1-2 tablets . . . . . . . . . . 4-6 tablets . . . . . . . . . . 2-4 tablets
(if needed)
63
#6
BETTER DYING
THROUGH CHEMICALS
LEGEND
DISCLAIMER
Crank does not take responsibility for any inaccurate or just plain wrong information contained herein.
Crank does, however, happily take responsibility for any deaths and/or injuries which are the direct result of making this information available to the public.
DOSAGE
CREDIT
TIME TO DIE
Most of the raw data and anecdotes in this article were taken from the alt.suicide.holidays newsgroup.
But I refuse to give them too much credit—it took me days to edit out the bad grammar, banal comments and inferior Brit spellings.
AVAILABLE?
NOTES OF METHODOLOGY
CERTAIN DEATH?
A SAVVY SUICIDE
SCIENCE FACTS
SO THEY SAY
Variable
Most drugs, taken in large quantity, will induce vomiting. To prevent this, take one or two anti-histamine tablets (travel sickness, allergy, hay fever tablets, etc.)
an hour before on a fairly empty stomach.
If your poison of choice is in tablet form, swallow the first 20% as normal. (A larger quantity may induce vomiting or impede absorption.) Take the remainder
with food or a strong alcohol, crushed or dissolved as appropriate; this will help the entire dose to hit your system at the same time. Alcohol helps dissolve the
drugs, but don't drink any beforehand! Instead, wash the tablets down with vodka or a similar spirit, and then drink yourself silly while you’re still conscious.
To increase your odds of death, secure a large, airtight plastic bag over your head. Also consider securing a rubber band around your neck. This can bring your
odds from “good” to “almost certain,” in case the drugs don’t work as expected.
Friday night is a good time to die, if you live alone—nobody will miss you until Monday morning. Bolt all the doors and windows, and tell your neighbors or
friends that you’ll be away. If you’ve got a loyal dog, set it free—you just don’t want to be featured on the nightly news as the chump whose dog dialed 9-1-1
and saved his life.
Be aware that people who regularly use painkillers can develop a tolerance. Increase the dosage accordingly.
ALCOHOL
ASPIRIN
20-30+ grams
About 8 hours
Variable: hours to days
Wonderfully easy to get
Unreliable
Drink it all at the same time, as quickly as possible. Will cause
liver and kidney damage if ‘rescued’ before death. Dosage is
questionable.
Easy to get
3 grams, typically one hundred 30mg tablets
Unreliable
Unconsciousness in 5-15 minutes; death in 20-50 minutes
Not recommended. Fatal dose varies wildly, could cause liver &
kidney damage instead of death. Too many cause vomiting.
Ingesting spirits as an enema is supposed to be a very quick
way of absorbing alcohol; even better, inject it. Dosage varies
according to method of ingestion, the individual’s tolerance, and
the health of the individual’s liver.
“The fatal dose of pure alcohol in an average adult is 300-400
mL (750-1000 mL of 40% alcohol) if consumed in less than one
hour. Apart from the effects of overdosage, death after alcohol
consumption can occur as a result of choking on vomit while
unconscious…Consequences such as liver damage occur after
chronic consumption.”
AMOBARBITAL
(AMYTAL, AMAL, EUNOCTAL,
ETAMYL, STADADORM)
64
#6
in your stomach and/or upper intestines. To speed up
absorption, take with sodium bicarbonate (bicarbonate of soda).
More effective when used with an airtight bag over one’s head
and a rubber band around one’s neck. Alcohol accelerates the
process and increases reliability.
BLEACH (ALSO LYE,
DRAIN CLEANING FLUIDS)
CAFFEINE
One half to one liter
20 grams
Variable: hours to days
Unknown
Unconsciousness in 5-15 minutes; death in 20-50 minutes
Uncertain
More effective when used with an airtight bag over one’s head
and a rubber band around one’s neck. Alcohol accelerates the
process and increases reliability.
Very reliable
so stay out of hospital for a couple of days. May cause bleeding
Easy to get
Very reliable
Prescription only
Overdose causes strange noises in your ears and projectile
vomiting after about 10 hours. Medical help generally effective,
4.5 grams, typically ninety 50mg tablets
Prescription only
BUTABARBITAL
(SECBUTOBARBITONE,
BUTISOL,
ETHNOR)
Easy to get
This method depends on your stomach cor roding, thereby
Without much data or secondhand accounts, the lethality of
releasing stomach acids to destroy vital organs. A painful way
caffeine remains uncertain.
to go.
An average cup of coffee contains roughly 200 mg, as does one
“I have heard of people throwing themselves through plate glass
windows in their death agonies after drinking lye.”
caffeine pill such as Vivarin.
CARBON MONOXIDE
CHLOROFORM
5% concentration
Unknown (a soaked rag?)
Minutes to hours
Several minutes
Easy to get: car exhaust, for one
Fairly easy to get
CYANIDE
(HCN, KCN)
50 mg Hydrogen Cyanide gas
200-300 mg Cyanide salts
Fairly certain
Seconds for gas; minutes for the salts on an empty stomach;
possibly hours on a full stomach
Unknown
Causes brain damage to survivors. Skin becomes fire engine red,
making the coroner’s job easy.
The actual cause of death is asphyxiation, since the carbon
monoxide binds tighter to hemoglobin than oxygen does (the
oxygen gets crowded out, so to speak).
Victim will become unconscious first, so steps must be taken to
ensure a continued ingestion. Perhaps taping the soaked rag
over one’s mouth?
COCAINE
“Urban legend tells of one couple who tried to kill themselves
by filling their apartment with carbon monoxide. Unfortunately,
the heavier-than-air carbon monoxide leaked through the floor
and killed the people in the apartment below.”
CHLORAL HYDRATE
(NOCTEC, CHLORATEX, SOMNOX)
Prescription only
2 to 3 hours (?)
Possibly difficult; very expensive
Unknown
Cocaine overdose induces a heart attack. Along the way, expect
severe paranoia and breathing problems. It is not uncommon for
drug mules to swallow bags or condoms of cocaine, only to have
them accidentally burst in transit, killing them quite handily.
Not effective by itself
CODEINE
Mix with alcohol and restrict breathing with a bag and rubber band.
CHLORINE GAS
2.4 grams, typically eight 30mg tablets
Unconsciousness in 5-15 minutes; death in 20-50 minutes
Unknown
Prescription only
Unknown
Very reliable
Tricky
More effective when used with an airtight bag over one’s head
and a rubber band around one’s neck. Alcohol accelerates the
process and increases reliability. Be warned than
tolerance develops with “normal” use.
Good
Very certain
Instead of ingesting cyanide salt orally, drop 500mg into a
strong acid. The fumes will be pure Hydrogen Cyanide, capable
of killing within seconds.
1 ounce (?)
More than 10 grams, typically more than twenty 500mg tablets
Info not available
Very difficult to secure
Hydrocyanic acid is one of the most poisonous substances
known; the inhalation of its fumes in high concentration will
cause almost immediate death. Hydrogen cyanide acts by
preventing the normal process of tissue oxidation and paralyzing
the respiratory center in the brain. Most of the accidental cases
are due to inhaling the fumes during a fumigating process. In
the pure state it kills with great rapidity. Crystalline cyanides,
such as potassium or sodium cyanide are equally poisonous,
since they interact with the hydrochloric acid in the stomach to
liberate hydrocyanic acid. This poison has been used for both
homicide and suicide; in recent histor y, a number of European
political figures carried vials of cyanide salt for emergency selfdestruction and some used them. Death resulted from amounts
of only a fraction of a gram. A concentration of 1 part in 500 of
hydrogen cyanide gas is fatal. Allowable working concentration
in most of the United States is 20 ppm. Two and one-half grains
of liquid acid has killed. The acid acts fatally in about 15
minutes. The cyanide salts kill in several hours. The average
dose of solution is 0.1 cc.
Stomach acids will react with Cyanide salts to form Hydrogen
Cyanide, so an empty stomach is a great advantage.
(Continued on page 67)
Used in World War One,
known to be a very
unpleasant
death.
65
#6
EVERYONEKNOWS
THAT SATAN WOULD
JUST KICK THEFUCK
OUT OF CHRIST IN A
FAIR FIGHT. REALLY.
JUDGMENT DAY IS UPON US!
SUPPORT THE HOME TEAM.
HURT THEM CHRISTIANS.
MAKE THEM CRY.
10
$
EACH
Please add $2 per order
(not per shirt) for shipping.
©1994
Jeff Koyen
66
#6
White on Black. 100% Cotton. X-Large only.
Cash, check, m/o to:
Jeff Koyen • PO Box 633
Prince Street Station • NYC 10012
DIAZEPAM
(VALIUM, APOZEPAM,
ALISEUM, DUCENE)
HYDRAZINE
As produced by reaction (see below)
500 milligrams, typically one hundred 5mg tablets
Unknown (2 weeks?)
Info not available
Easy to get
Prescription only
Not known
Unreliable
Not effective by itself. Mix with alcohol and restrict
breathing with a bag and rubber band.
FLURAZEPAM
(DALMANE,
DALMADORM, NIOTAL)
3 grams, typically one hundred 30mg tablets
Commonly produced by mixing a bottle of bleach and a
bottle of ammonia. A fairly common way for illiterate
cleaning people to accidentally kill themselves.
“Several years ago at my high school, one of the janitors
innocently mixed together half a bottle of bleach with half
a bottle of of ammonia in a small closet where the
cleaning fluids were kept. He passed out due to the
hydrazine gas released in the reaction between the two
chemicals. This man was in agony for two weeks in an
intensive care unit in a local hospital with the majority of
the inside surface of his lungs damaged and untreatable
before he got lucky and died.”
Info not available
Prescription only
Not effective by itself
Mix with alcohol and restrict breathing with a bag and
rubber band.
HYDROMORPHONE
(DILAUDID, PENTAGONE)
100-200 milligrams, typically 50-100 2mg tablets
Unconsciousness in 5-15 minutes; death in 20-50 minutes
GASOLINE (INHALED/INJECTED)
Not effective by itself
Seconds/minutes
Mix it with alcohol and restrict breathing with a bag and
rubber band.
Very easy to get
With correct dosage, a reliable method.
“You can also use propane or butane on a skin surface.
Go stick your hand in a bucket of propane and see how
many seconds you last…”
INSULIN (INJECTED)
Unknown
24 grams, typically forty eight 500mg tablets
Info not available
ASPHYXIATION
SUGGESTED METHOD
•Dangle on end of rope for 10 minutes
TIPS
•You’ll need a dependable rope and a solid support,
10-feet aboveground
RISKS
•Rope snapping
•Discovery
•Pain-inspired abort
IF YOU FAIL
•Brain damage
NECK BREAKING
TIPS
•See Asphyxiation, above. Methodology varies only in the
initial “leap,” which should be more drastic for this result.
•Very painless—instantaneous, even—when executed correctly.
•Rope must be very strong, capable of holding several times
your body weight
•Use a hangman’s knot (with the knot at the back of your
neck). A bad knot can lead to a broken jaw, a badly lacerated
neck and death by asphyxiation
RISKS
•Death by asphyxiation is very common—breaking one’s neck
is harder than it seems (see chart, below)
Hours-days
GLUTHETHIMIDE
(DORIDEN, DORIDENE, GLIMID)
KEEP YOUR DIGNIT Y—
KILL YOURSELF
LIKE A MAN!
SUGGESTED METHOD
•Hanging
Prescription only
20 ml (?)
POISON IS
FOR PUSSIES.
Prescription only
IF YOU FAIL
•See Asphyxiation, above
•Injury due to fall if the rope breaks
Reasonable
Rumored to be quite a pleasant way to go.
Prescription only
IRON
Not effective by itself
Unknown
Mix it with alcohol and restrict breathing with a bag and
rubber band.
HEROIN
Unknown
Easy to get
120 to 500 mg for non-users
Good
Unknown
“It seems that iron pills oxidize in the stomach and eat a
hole through it. The only reason I know this is that
Difficult (and, like cocaine, expensive)
Unknown
someone at my school just recently overdosed and died
from this. It was ruled suicide since no person could
accidentally take that many iron pills. They didn't say how
Combined with alcohol, a lethal dose might be reduced.
many she took or how many it takes to kill yourself
though.”
RECOMMENDED DROP HEIGHT
TO BREAK ONE’S NECK
WEIGHT
HEIGHT
196 lbs..........................................................8 ft. 0 in.
189 lbs..........................................................8 ft. 2 in.
182 lbs..........................................................8 ft. 4 in.
175 lbs..........................................................8 ft. 6 in.
168 lbs..........................................................8 ft. 8 in.
161 lbs.........................................................8 ft. 10 in.
154 lbs..........................................................9 ft. 0 in.
147 lbs..........................................................9 ft. 2 in.
140 lbs..........................................................9 ft. 4 in.
133 lbs..........................................................9 ft. 6 in.
126 lbs..........................................................9 ft. 8 in.
119 lbs.........................................................9 ft. 10 in.
112 lbs.........................................................10 ft. 0 in.
67 #6
DRY DIVING
MALATHION (INSECTICIDE)
METHYPRYLON
A few bottles
15 grams, typically fifty 300mg tablets
•Tall building
2 to 3 hours
Prescription only
TIPS
Found commercially at large garden centers
Not effective by itself
•Ten stories or more is recommended. Certainty is 90% at six
stories
Unreliable
Mix it with alcohol and restrict breathing with a bag
and rubber band.
SUGGESTED METHOD
•Bring a bolt cutter if you want to access the roof
RISKS
Dosage to knock off a rat is 1 gram per kilogram of body
weight. If that ratio holds for an adult human, then
acquiring the necessary amount might be too difficult.
MORPHINE
•Last-minute abort due to instinctive fear of heights
•Discovery in populated areas
Parathion is recommended as a better insecti-suicide.
200 milligrams, typically fourteen 15mg tablets
Unconsciousness in 5-15 min.; death in 20-50 min.
IF YOU FAIL
MEPERIDINE
•Brain damage, paralysis or other disability
Prescription only
3.6 grams, typically 72 50mg tablets
CUTTING
Not effective by itself
Unconscious in 5-15 minutes, death in 20-50 minutes
SUGGESTED METHOD
•The tried-and-true slit wrists
Prescription only
TIPS
Not effective by itself
•Skip the razor—use a very sharp knife! Razor blades are very
difficult to handle, especially when they are wet with blood
Mix it with alcohol and restrict breathing with a bag
and rubber band.
•Position yourself so that your wrists don’t fall inwards
against your body, blocking off blood flow
•Cut down along the artery (the blueish vein), not across the
wrist
•It may be cliche, but sitting in a hot bath not only feels good,
but the warm water helps to prevent clotting
RISKS
•Missed the artery? You’re gonna live
•Discovery is very common, especially when the act is merely
a “cry for help,” as they say on Lifetime
NICOTINE
MEPROBAMATE
(MILTOWN, EQUANIL)
Fairly certain, given a large enough dose
Info not available
Side effects include violent convulsions. The direct cause
of death is respiratory failure. Smokers should use larger
doses than non-smokers. Coma may set in before death.
Prescription only
Not effective by itself
Minimum: several liters, uncompressed
Unknown
TIPS
Unknown
RISKS
Minutes
Possible through plumbing or welding supplier
Good
Certain
Contrary to popular opinion, pure mercury metal isn’t all
that poisonous. The soluble salts are, however. The
“mad hatter” story refers to brain damage that hat
makers used to get from using mercury salts.
300 milligram, typically sixty 5mg tablets
Unconscious in 5-15 minutes, death in 20-50 minutes
IF YOU FAIL
Prescription only
•Potentially everything: brain damage, paralysis, disfigurement
68 #6
While the victim dies from asphyxiation, it is not a lack
of oxygen; rather an excess of carbon dioxide deals the
lethal blow.
METHADONE
(DOLOPHINE, ADANON)
•Nonlethal injury due to bad aim or insufficient caliber (most
people survive single shots to the temple with a .22)
•A big mess
NITROGEN GAS
1 gram of salts
•Shotgun
•If you have a choice, use .458 Winchester Magnum
ammunition or soft-point slugs
“Soak 100 grams of tobacco for a few days. You get a
brown mess. Strain off the tobacco, then simmer slowly
until most of the liquid has gone, leaving about 2
teaspoons of brown treacle-like stuff. Add it to your
night-time drink, and never wake up. Someone once said
that 150 mg of pure nicotine would be fatal in seconds.”
MERCURY (SALTS, SOLUBLE)
SUGGESTED METHOD
•‘Hesitation marks’ are commonly found near gunshot
suicides. These occur when the would-be victim jerks the gun
away at the last nanosecond, spraying the wall behind them
with bullets or buckshot. If you don’t want to be remembered
as the sort of baby who took a full round to get the job done,
then do it right the first time
Easy to get
45 grams, typically 112 400mg tablets
•A minor scar
GUNSHOT
100g (?) extracted from tobacco; 40-60 mg pure
Several hours
Mix it with alcohol and restrict breathing with a bag
and rubber band.
IF YOU FAIL
Mix it with alcohol and restrict breathing with a bag
and rubber band. Tolerance develops with use.
Not effective by itself
Mix it with alcohol and restrict breathing with a bag
and rubber band. Tolerance develops with use.
NITROUS OXIDE
Unknown
Minutes
Fairly easy to get
Reasonable
Accidental deaths are not uncommon. Probably a
pleasant way to go.
PARACETAMOL
(ACETAMINOPHEN)
15+ grams; 20+ recommended
POTASSIUM CHLORIDE
Not known (20cc injected in a strong solution is
recommended)
DECAPITATION
SUGGESTED METHOD
•Who knows?
Fatal damage occurs in 10 hours, but fatality will not
occur for another 2 weeks
Seconds to minutes
Widely available
Easy to get
Fairly reliable
PENTOBARBITAL
3 grams, typically thirty 100mg tablets
Unconsciousness in 5-15 minutes, death in 20-50
minutes
Prescription only
Very reliable with plastic bag and rubber band
4.5 grams, typically 150 30mg tablets
Not effective by itself
Mix it with alcohol and restrict breathing with a bag
and rubber band.
PHOSPHINE GAS
(FROM ALUMINUM
PESTICIDE, ALP)
3-grams
About 2 hours
An excess of K+ in the blood interferes with nerve
signals and stops muscles and nerves from working.
When it reaches your heart, you’re finished.
PROPOXYPHENE
(DARVON, DOLOTARD,
ABALGIN, ANTALVIC,
DEPRONAL)
2 grams, typically thirty 65mg tablets
After severe vomiting, the victim loses consciousness,
the blood vessels rupture and body cavities fill with
blood. Some escape death because the efficacy of the
gas decreases as the pill ages and is exposed to
moisture.
Prescription only
“A common method for Indian villagers.”
“One 3-gram tablet is enough to kill 10 people.”
TIPS
•Yeah, good luck
RISKS
•You will pass out before getting the job done
IF YOU FAIL
•Oh, you will fail—even the Samurai were decapitated befor e
they passed out from the self-administered gut wound
DROWNING
SUGGESTED METHOD
•Weighted down
This does not make you unconscious. It is suggested
that you combine this drug with a sleeping pill and the
bad/rubber band rig.
TIPS
•Don’t have the facilities to fashion a pair of concrete shoes?
Try filling your pockets with stones or duct-taping bricks to
your shoes
RISKS
SECOBARBITAL
(QUINALBARBITONE,
SECONAL, IMMENOX,
DORMONA, SECOGEN)
4.5 grams, typically forty five 100mg tablets
Unconsciousness in 5-15 minutes, death in 20-50
minutes
Prescription only
•Takes about 5 minutes to die, so the abort reflex has plenty
of time to kick in
•One can sometimes be revived from cold water drowning
after several hours because the temperature slows down
terminal brain damage
•Discovery
•Floating up to the surface too soon
IF YOU FAIL
•Brain damage
•Tissue damage due to hypothermia
Not effective by itself
Mix it with alcohol and restrict breathing with a bag
and rubber band.
ELECTROCUTION
SUGGESTED METHOD
•High-tension, high-current line
TIPS
WARFARIN (RAT POISON)
Unknown
Hours to fatal damage; days to actual fatality
Easy to get
There is no specific antidote to this, so a single 3-gram
pill contains enough ALP, which produces lethal
phosphine gas when it comes in contact with
hydrochloric acid or water in the stomach, to kill quite
nicely.
•Hari kari
About one hour
Difficult to get
Very good
DISEMBOWELMENT
SUGGESTED METHOD
Info not available
Prescription only
•Lord knows
Causes heart attack, leading to sometimes ambiguous
coroner reports.
Fairly certain
PHENOBARBITAL
•Reflex abort
IF YOU FAIL
Certain
Horrible side effects during the 2 week dying time,
including acute toxic hepatitis, renal failure, cerebral
oedema, intra-abdominal bleeding, aspiration
pneumonia and hemophilia. Insufficient dose causes
severe liver damage. Accidental deaths are ver y
common. Besides vomiting and nausea, there are few,
if any, side effects before the damage becomes fatal.
RISKS
Very certain
•Don’t bother sticking your tongue in a household outlet—
it probably won’t kill you
•Works best if the current travels through your head or heart;
people have survived massive high-voltage, high-current
shocks with nothing but third degree burns
RISKS
•Insufficient voltage or contact
IF YOU FAIL
According to speculation, this poison functions by
causing severe a cerebral hemorrhage, since it kills rats
by inducing hemophilia. Medical help is said to be
futile; victims are left to die in agony. Skeptics dismiss
this as melodramatic claptrap, citing the good health
and ordinary lives of human hemophiliacs.
•Paralysis
•Amputated limbs
•Severe burns
69 #6
EXPLOSIVES
SUGGESTED METHOD
•Whatever you can get
TIPS
•Take a building or a bridge with you
•Do not bother with gunpowder, gasoline other
“homemade” explosives
•Do not use any of those ridiculous “how-to” recipes
found on the Internet
•Do place your head in the area of impact
RISKS
•Non-lethal injuries
IF YOU FAIL
•Criminal charges
•Disfigurement
•Paralysis
HYPOTHERMIA
SUGGESTED METHOD
•Get drunk and pass out in the dead of winter
TIPS
•In ice-cold water, an average adult will live for 15
minutes
•It’s a tough way to go—consider other options
RISKS
•Discovery
IF YOU FAIL
•Lost limbs
•Paralysis
•Brain damage
SELF-IMMOLATION
SUGGESTED METHOD
•Gasoline bath
TIPS
•On the downside, it is a very agonizing way to die
•On the upside, there is very little opportunity to abort
RISKS
•Non-lethal injuries
IF YOU FAIL
•Disfigurement
HEDONISM
SUGGESTED METHOD
•Fuck everything with a hole, get the AIDS
TIPS
•Have fun, be dirty
RISKS
•Potential for remorse
•If you live long enough, you just might change your
mind and eventually regret contracting the disease; of
course, it’ll be too late
IF YOU FAIL
•Odds are, you won’t; but it may take a long time, so:
the longer the incubation, the more time for fun!
70 #6
SPOIL
SPORT
A helpful guide to movies you may have missed.
By Dan Kelly and Jeff Koyen
Alien
Sigourney and the cat get away. The alien is blown out an
airlock.
Aliens
Sigourney, the girl, the robot and the marine get away. The
aliens are blown up.
Aliens3
Sigourney has been impregnated with an alien all this time.
She jumps into a smelter as an alien bursts out of her chest.
The Andromeda Strain
Labored breathing prevents infection.
Angel Heart
DeNiro is the Devil. Mickey Rourke goes to Hell.
Apocalypse Now
Martin Sheen kills Brando and then blows up the village.
Babe
They eat the pig.
Bad Lieutenant
Loan sharks kill Keitel, in spite of his good deed at the
very end.
Barfly
He ends up at the bar.
Barton Fink
John Goodman is the killer and is presumed to have a
head in his valise.
Blue Velvet
Kyle MacLachlan shoots Dennis Hopper.
Body Double
It’s a set-up.
Brazil
It’s all taking place in Jonathan Pryce’s mind. He’s
been driven insane during interrogation.
Bring Me the Head of Alfredo Garcia
Warren Oates dies.
Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid
They really do die.
Charlotte’s Web
They eat the pig.
Clockers
The drunk brother killed the guy.
A Clockwork Orange
He becomes evil again.
The Collector
She dies.
The Conversation
The lovebirds are plotting to kill the hubby, not the other
way around.
The Cook, the Thief, His Wife and Her Lover
The abusive husband kills the lover and she makes him
(the hubby) eat the lover’s body.
Basic Instinct
Sharon Stone really did kill all those people. She and
Michael Douglas live happily ever after.
The Crying Game
It’s a cock. Big deal.
The Beguiled
Clint has his leg amputated. He dies.
Dead Again
She’s actually the reincarnated guy.
Blow Out
She dies.
The Deer Hunter
Christopher Walken loses that last game of Russian Roulette.
71
#6
Deliverance
The guitarist dies. Burt Reynolds dies. Jon Voight
murders an innocent cajun, but survives. Ned Beatty
survives with the knowledge of what it’s really like to
be a woman (or a sheep).
Dr. Strangelove
The world ends. Dr. Strangelove can walk again.
The Duel
Dennis Weaver tricks the truck driver into driving off a
cliff.
East of Eden
Raymond Massey has a stroke. James Dean becomes
a dutiful son.
Easy Rider
They die.
The Empire Strikes Back
Luke loses a hand. Darth Vader is Luke’s father.
The Exorcist
Max von Sydow dies. Father Demian takes a lethal dry
dive out the window with the demon inside him.
Eye of the Needle
Donald Sutherland dies.
Eyes of Laura Mars
Tommy Lee Jones is the killer.
Fargo
Steve Buscemi is killed by his psycho partner and put
through a wood chipper.
Fried Green Tomatoes
The evil husband was turned into barbecue and eaten
by the cop.
The Fugitive
The best friend is responsible for the wife’s murder.
Ghost
Patrick Swayze avenges his own murder, but is still
dead. He goes to heaven after finally saying “I love
you” to his wife. Demi Moore cries a hundred times.
The Graduate
Benjamin and what’s-her-name ditch the wedding, get
on a bus, and then realize that they don’t know what
the hell they’re going to do next.
Heat
DeNiro dies.
72
#6
Henry, Portrait of a Serial Killer
Henry kills his girlfriend and stuffs her in a suitcase.
Invasion of the Body Snatchers
The cops believe his story and mobilize. (In the original
cut, nobody believed him and the movie ended on a
hopeless note. But that conclusion—allegorically
allowing the Reds the win—was too depressing for
Cold War America, so they added the uplift.)
Invasion of the Body Snatchers (remake #1)
Donald Sutherland gets snatched.
Invasion of the Body Snatchers (remake #2)
Gabrielle Anwar appears topless. Oh, and a bunch of
other things happen.
Jaws
Quinn dies. Roy Scheider shoves an oxygen tank into
the shark’s mouth, shoots it, and blows the shark up.
Richard Dreyfuss is okay.
Kids
The friend fucks the AIDS-girl at the end. Ha ha ha ha
ha.Stupid stupid stupid fucking movie.
Killing Zoe
The bad guy dies. Eric Stoltz gets the girl. And AIDS!
Ha ha ha ha.
The Last Seduction
The hick married a man in New York. Linda Fiorentino
gets away.
Leaving Las Vegas
She gets raped. He dies.
Lolita
Humbert shoots Quilty. Lolita is happily married and
knocked up.
The Manchurian Candidate
The brainwashed guy shoots his parents instead of the
candidate. Then he kills himself.
Marathon Man
Dustin Hoffman shoots Laurence Olivier.
Midnight Cowboy
Dustin Hoffman dies.
Natural Born Killers
Micky and Mallory get away, shoot
Robert Downey and get away again.
The Piano
Holly’s fingers are chopped off. She
marries Harvey Keitel and talks again.
Psycho
His mother’s corpse is stuffed in the
basement; Norman is a transvestite.
Nightmare on Elm Street 1-6
Um, Freddy’s not really dead.
Pink Flamingoes
Divine eats dog shit.
Night of the Living Dead
The black guy survives, only to be shot
by zombie hunters.
Planet of the Apes
Er, it’s Earth.
The Quiet Earth
Only people on the verge of death
survived the “effect.” Zac, the main
survivor, tricks his two co-survivors into
staying and really dying during the final
transformation. He emerges, alone, on
a new planet. Credits roll.
No Way Out
Kevin Costner is Uri.
The Odessa File
Jon Voight’s father was the soldier shot
by the Nazi during the flashback.
Old Yeller
They shoot the dog. You cry.
One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest
Big Chief smothers the lobotomized
Jack Nicholson, then escapes.
Presumed Innocent
The wife killed the mistress.
Primal Fear
The kid is faking the multiple
personality thing. He’s really a bad
motherfucker.
Pulp Fiction
1st Ending: Jules and Vincent keep the
suitcase. Tim Roth and Amanda
Plummer are redeemed. 2nd Ending:
Uma gets a big needle plunged into her
heart. She lives. 3rd Ending: Bruce
Willis and Maria De Medeiros get
away. John Travolta is killed by Bruce.
Reservoir Dogs
Mr. Orange is the cop. Everybody dies.
The Return of Martin Guerre
He really is an impostor.
Rosemary’s Baby
The baby is the Devil’s son. Duh.
Seven
Brad Pitt’s wife’s head is in the box. Pitt
kills John Doe.
Terms of Endearment
She dies. You cry.
Third Man
Harry Lime is alive. Joseph Cotten
shoots him.
Touch of Evil
Orson Welles is caught and killed.
Trainspotting
Renton takes the money and runs.
Tree’s Lounge
See Barfly.
Twin Peaks
Her father killed her. He is possessed
by Bob.
The Usual Suspects
Everyone dies. Kevin Spacey is Keyser
Soze.
Videodrome
He kills himself.
Shallow Grave
The money is buried under the kitchen
floor.
The Shining
Olive Oyl and the kid escape. Scatman
eats an axe. Jack freezes to death.
Closing scene shows Jack in a photo
taken fifty years earlier at the hotel.
Silence of the Lambs
The bad guy is making a suit made
from fat women’s skin. Jodie kills him.
Lecter escapes.
The Sting
They don’t really die.
Von Ryan’s Express
Frank Sinatra dies.
Voyager
Julie Delpy (the daffy blonde chippie) is
Sam Shepard’s daughter.
War of the Roses
They die.
Who’s Afraid of Virginia Woolf?
They don’t really have a son. They were
just playing with their guests’ heads.
Widow’s Peak
Natasha Richardson is Mia Farrow’s
daughter. It’s a scam.
Summer of ’42
Her hubby dies in WWII. She fucks the
kid, then moves away.
Wild at Heart
Sailor and Lula live happily ever after.
Talk Radio
He’s shot and killed.
Withnail & I
“I” gets a job. Withnail is left behind.
Taxi Driver
Travis fails to kill the Candidate.
Instead, he kills the pimp and his
cronies while rescuing the young Jodie
Foster. Ironically, he becomes a hero.
The Wizard of Oz
It was all a dream.
The World According to Garp
He dies. And that’s where it ends.
73
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p. 74
74
#6
THANKS FOR THE INK!
Note: Everything below appears without permission from the appropriate owners. Or was that obvious?
While I’m never happy to be
mentioned in the same breath
as that rotten piece of shit,
Ben is Dead, I was nonetheless
pleased to see Crank listed in
Details as part of the 10,000strong Zine World.
Finally, some real press! Crank made it onto the Knight-Ridder Newspapers wire.
(I would’ve preferred AP, but hell, every little bit helps.) This particular clipping
was torn from the Moline Dispatch.
Thanks to countless college DJs and other music industry jerkoffs,
Crank was named Best Fanzine in the CMJ Readers’ Poll last year.
I’d be lying if I refused to admit how pleased I was by this.
Number Two is for losers, Chickfactor.
Now, here’s the Big News: you know that whole Rush Limbaugh Thing? Come on,
you remember from Crank #5—the letter from the show producers ordering me
to retract my statements about Rush? Well, newsflash for you: Ha ha. You fell for
it. I found the letterhead on a floppy at a quick print shop I was visiting. That’s
right—the letter is fake. It never even existed in this physical world—it was
generated entirely in Quark and Photoshop. Choke on that, lemming.
By the way, my compliments go out to Carl Swanson of the New York Observer
for having the good sense to not run his story about the whole Limbaugh vs.
Crank situation. It’s good to know that at least some reporters check facts.
Much like the
employees of
several other
mainstream
glossy magazines, the crew
at the CMJ New
Music Monthly
seems to have
a crush on
Crank.
At least they
admit it!
Hey, as far as I know, it wasn’t rigged.
According to the Best of Manhattan ’96 Readers’ Poll which appeared in the
NY Press, Crank is the “Best New York Fanzine.” Yowser! And like the CMJ
Readers’ Poll, above right, I’d be lying if I denied enjoying this thrashing of
the competition. Sorry to the rest of you.
The review on
the left
appeared a
while back. To
date, it is the
best review
Crank has ever
received.
75
#6
OK. YES, SOMETIMES
THEY DO WORRY ME
I have no fucking idea what message this letter was intended to deliver.
Either it’s from a run-of-the-mill convict, too addled from drug abuse and
nightstick beatings to form a sentence, or I’m missing some great missive
from an unrecognized genius. I’m betting on the crackhead criminal.
76
#6
I can’t decide if I should credit or
blame the United States Post Office
for such fine work. On one hand,
it’s astonishing that they were
able to decipher the jumbled
address. Then, they forwarded the
letter along from my old
Philadelphia address
(the forwarding has
long since expired) to
my New York box. On
the other hand, why
didn’t they choose the
chump at RO Box 1759?!
SIGN ME UP!
Consumer Name
E(MC)2 (Easyriders Motorcycle Club MasterCard)
Ad campaign
“Use it today, ya fuckin’ pussy.”
Member benefits
Free copy of Best Old Ladies, 1960-1985 upon approval. Free admission to
yearly Sausage Eating Contest.
Consumer Name
The W. C. Handy Charge
Ad campaign
“Y’all may be po’, but you can still go into debt with class.”
Member benefits
Instant cred for white intellectuals.
Help Spread
the Word
Do not trust this face. Say NO to deceptive alien
entities. For FREE stickers send self-addressed
stamped envelope to:
V2
Box 991
Stanwood, WA 98292
FEAR NOT.
Spread the Word.
Consumer Name
The Darby Romeo MasterCunt Card
Ad campaign
“Give me something or yours and, in return, I won’t give you shit because I’m a self-centered, shortsighted, exploitative media slut with no regard for anyone else who actually contributes their hard work
and time and energy to a seemingly worthwhile cause that is, in reality, nothing more than windowdressing for my grandstanding. In short, I’m a never-was, filthy whore; and Ben is Dead is crap.”
Member benefits
You get to be part of the gang until your usefulness runs out.
77
#6
78
#6
INDEX
A&M Records. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 7
Abortion Gags . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 11
Agency Life. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 20
Aggression, Inc. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 1
Amy . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 2, 8, 18, 43, 44, 74
Antichrist . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 66
Anti-Crank PSA . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 4
Anwar, Gabrielle . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 72
Argo. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 77
Ass Punching . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 47
Ayatollah of Rock and Rollah (see Jeff Koyen)
Babylon 5 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 14
Baker, Nicholson. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 10
Barrymore, Drew (not topless). . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 13
Benedi, Antonio (see Guy Who Got $8.8 Million for His Liver)
Ben is Dead (see Publication Produced by a Filthy Cunt)
Berry, Chuck . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 30
Bielavitz, Tom. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 2, 28, 35
Big Words (see Dan Kelly)
Big Yank. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 35
Braddock, Jeremy . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 2, 24, 32
Caan, James. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 36
Caffeine . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 64
Capgras Syndrome. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 58
Carroll, Jim. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 13
Cash, Johnny . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 36
Cheap Piece of Shit Bottle Opener. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 43
Chemotherapy and Booze. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 62
Christ, Jesus . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 6, 13, 46, 66
Chum . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 9, 60
Cigar Smoking Idiots . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 48
CMJ . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 75
CMJ New Music Monthly . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 75
Coffee. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 18
Columbo. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 36
Convict Reader. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 76
Cotard’s Syndrome . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 58
crank.com. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 2, 3
Crank Readers . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 61
Crazy Acrobat, The . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 33
Dead Horse . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 80
Deal with the Devil. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 3
Details . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 75, 80
Dewars Spoof. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . Inside Back Cover
Dick Van Dyke . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 37
Dogs Playing Poker. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 8
Doobie Brother. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 45
Dope . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 10
Drop Heights to Break One’s Neck . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 67
Drugs and Booze . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 62
Drunken Photography . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 61
Easyriders . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 77
Ekbom’s Syndrome . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 59
Elk’s Lodge . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 45
Elvis . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 24-32
Elvis Movies . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 24-32
E.T. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 12
Falk, Peter. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 36
Farm Pulp . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 1
Fast Times at Ridgemont High . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 34, 74
Ferengi. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 14-16
Fermata, The . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 10
Filthy Cunt. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 60, 77
Four Elk of the Apocalypse. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 45
Fox, Jeff (see Useless Douchebag)
Frew, Don . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 2, 14
Fuck You Warden . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 1
Getaway, The . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 36
God Has Power. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 6
Grade A Fancy . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 1
Grasse, Steven . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 52
Great Escape, The . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 36
Great Gift Idea. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 66
Green . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 80
Guy Who Got $8.8 Million for His Liver . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 62
Hammer, Mike . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 36
Handy, W.C.. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 77
Hesitation Marks . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 68
Highball (see Hollywood Highball)
Hischak, Greg . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 1
Hollywood Highball . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 52-53
Holy Heart of Jesus, The. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 13
Hungry Freaks . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 14
Icon Review System (see Dead Horse)
Insight . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 10
Internet Movie Database . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 9
I Spit on Your Grave . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 34
Jacobs, Theresa M. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 50
Jeff Koyen’s Screenplay for a Dead Magazine . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 54
Jew-Bashing in Star Trek. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 14-16
Judgment Day. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 46, 66
Kelly, Dan. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 2, 57-60
Kiddie Porn? Nah! . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . Cover, 40-41
Koyen, Jeff. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 1-80
Koyen, Ken . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 45
Koyen, Shannon. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 45
Lagasse, Emeril. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 44
LeBron, Graham. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 8
Leigh, Jennifer Jason . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 34
Limbaugh, Rush. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 75
Lisa Bonet’s Boobs . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 34
Livingstone, John (see dope)
Lumpen . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 9
M&Ms. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 13
Marvin, Lee. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 36
McGee, Dennis . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . Cover, 2
McMillian and Wife. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 36
McQueen, Steve . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 36
MGM. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 44
Moore, Demi. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 34, 72
Mormons . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 46
MTV. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 53
Munchausen’s Syndrome . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 59
Munchausen’s Syndrome by Proxy . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 59
Munsterer, Lillian. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 10
My Friend Licka. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 9
Nastassja Kinski. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 34
New Jersey Tax Cheats. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 7
New York Press . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 2, 75, 80
Nixon, Richard . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 32
NYC Commuter ScreamMachine . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 44
OCD . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 60
One Orange Skunk Contest. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 33
Papa John’s Pizza. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 11
Pinkos (see Lumpen)
Plagiarism (see Dan Kelly)
Planned Parenthood . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 11
Polygamy . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 46
Publication Produced by a Filthy Cunt. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 75, 77
Quincy . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 36
Rat Poison (see warfarin)
Reese’s Pieces . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 13
Robie, Joan Hake . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 23
Roddenberry, Gene . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 14
Romeo, Darby (see Filthy Cunt)
Rourke, Mickey. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 34
Saint Peter’s Paste . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 47
Salt Lake City. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 43, 45
Satan . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 6, 66
Schindler’s List . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 13
Smith, John . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 46
Spielberg, Steven. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 12-13
Spoiled Movie Endings . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 71
Stan’s Seed . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 47
Star Trek . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 14-16
Strength . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 9
Suicide . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 5, 64-69
Summer Lovers . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 35
Swaggert, Jimmy . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 50
Swanson, Carl . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 75
Talking Jesus Statue. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 46
Temple Square . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 46
10 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 35
Titty. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 34, 44
Travelodge. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 43
Trend Jumping . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 48
Truth About Dungeons & Dragons, The . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 23
TV Food Network . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 44
Tylenol and Booze . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 62
Useless Douchebag . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 52-53
Velveeda, D.B. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 2, 12
Verbivore . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 24
Vitamins . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 62, 63
Viva Las Vegas. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 27, 31, 43
Wacky Prank . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 75
Warchest. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 48
Warfarin . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 59, 69
Weekly World News . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 8
Wenders, Wim . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 36
Why Does Satan Sell . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 6, 66
Xtro . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 35
Yessongs . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 46
YHVH. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 1
Young, Brigham . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 46
CLOSING
REMARKS
FROM
THE
CHAIR
As the Icon Review System was intended to
demonstrate, ads for music should not necessarily
be placed exclusively in music zines. In fact, I can
wage a healthy argument for precisely the opposite:
readers of music zines are so overwhelmed by sloppy, amateur opinion that your advertisement has little or no impact.
In Crank, with no editorial dedicated to music, the ads carry a certain
weight. No editorial contradiction and no editorial compromise.
I’ve proved my point by offering a 84-page zine supported by a
nominal amount (when compared to most other similar publications)
of record company advertising, without including a single page of
musical content. No interviews. No reviews. Nothing.
And now, I move on.
-------------Thank you, Details, for having the good taste to feature Crank’s own
Roy Batchelor in their December, 1996 article about Webmasters.
-------------For anyone interested in extra credit, my work continues to appear
regularly in Factsheet 5. New York City denizens are also treated to my
less visceral side in the New York Press, an outstanding newspaper and
stand-up gang of folk.
I’d like to thank all the usuals: subscribers, advertisers, readers, and
That book deal is still in the works, so keep your eyes peeled. Ditto
the hodge-podge of incorrigibles who justify this arrogance which
the movie, TV pilot, speaking engagement, clothing line and action
substitutes for my soul.
figure.
Have no doubt: I am all the man you’ll ever need.
--------------
--------------
One plug (and it’s not because they pumped me first): Green is one
A note to record company promotion cogs: thanks for all the free
of the finest publications currently in existence. I urge you to order
stuff, but feel free to take me off your mailing lists. As you have prob-
a copy, sight unseen. Call toll-free 800-477-2968, or query via email,
ably noticed, your band did not get reviewed this time. And it won’t
[email protected]. Sure, they’ve got an 800 number, but I swear, it’s
get reviewed next time, either.
just this guy named Ken handing out sound financial advice for jerks
I stopped producing the Icon Review System before it became stale.
like me.
(Face it—including that slew of reviews in Crank #5 was precisely the
--------------
kind of behavior I was lampooning in the first place. I used them to
Christ. There’s just so much more to say.
fill pages when the ideas stopped coming each morning and I became
--------------
anxious to produce another issue.) In fact, there will be no more
Until next time (don’t hold your breath), I remain,
reviews at all in the foreseeable future. (Until I devise another bril-
The Ayatollah of Rock and Rollah,
liant system which simultaneously mocks and functions, of course.)
In the meantime, I thank my advertisers in advance for having the
good judgment to continue advertising in Crank.
80
#6
Jeff Koyen
Crank
YOU’VE GOT NO LIFE. SO ENJOY MINE, RESPONSIBLY. POB 633, PRINCE STREET STATION, NYC 10012. $3 CASH, PLEASE.