Get 'em now from ALTUS PRESS, HERE.
Thursday, December 29, 2016
Monday, December 26, 2016
The Art of Adam West
Batdog
An email from MeTV told me that Adam West, now 88, has a bunch of paintings on exhibit in an art gallery in Ketchum, Idaho. The examples here are priced between $3000 and $8500.
Penguin
Alfred
Joker Evening Makeup
Christmas Surprise
Riddler
Liberace
The Mad Hatter
Sunday, December 25, 2016
Saturday, December 24, 2016
Christmas with the Beatles? Almost.
I posted some of these Christmas songs by The Fab Four a few years back. Here are all 20 tracks, with a couple of extras thrown in. Some are more listenable than others, but they're all mighty dang interesting. My thanks to music mogul Mr. Drew Bentley for turning me on to them.
Thursday, December 22, 2016
Wednesday, December 21, 2016
Tuesday, December 20, 2016
Steve Mertz rides again with BLAZE! THE CHRISTMAS JOURNEY
If you’re hankerin’ for a new-fangled Old West Christmas, it’s
available right this minute in The Christmas Journey, the latest Blaze! adventure
by series creator Stephen Mertz.
This one has everything anyone could want in a Christmas story: Santa
Claus, religion, sex, love, shootouts, goodwill towards men, bank robberies, motherly
love, wild Indians and a hat tip to The Grateful Dead.
It begins with J.D. Blaze (fastest gunslinger in the West) playing
Santa Claus at the insistence of his nubile wife Kate (the second fastest), and gets crazier by the minute. Next thing they
know they’re on a two-horned quest, committed to catching a couple of
bank robbers and rescuing an innocent boy from the hangman’s noose.
That’s when the Journey (of the title) begins, first with a stagecoach
ride (complete with echoes of the John Wayne flick), then onto a train attacked by redskins (complete with a fight on the roof) and finishing in a prairie
schooner (with Three Wise woMen). Along
the way, we meet a large cast of quirky characters, including smart and stupid
outlaw brothers, a preacher who’s lost his faith (and never gets it back) and a
good-guy Injun chief named Iron Eyes.
Everyone exhibits the Christmas spirit in their own way—even the Apaches.
Recognizing that the season is special to the white eyes, they deem it a bad time
for shedding blood. “Well,” says one, “could we at least raise a little hell?” The
answer is yes, so in attacking the train they shoot over passengers’ heads,
laughing all the way.
And, this being and adult Western series, we have a deftly handled sex
scene:
Kate knew that no woman
could ever tame a man like J.D.—but she could handle him in the oldest way known to the species. She consciously
shifted the way she sat against the headboard. Her legs stretched out before
her beneath the clinging bed sheets, parted ever so slightly.
She smiled and said in a
throaty whisper, “It sure would please this girl if her husband would oblige
her this one single favor in keeping with the holiday spirit.”
J.D. could not restrain his
eyes from appraising her naked curves so clearly outlined beneath the thin
sheet concealing her from the neck down. He said, “Uh, are we negotiating?”
“Maybe we’re just
celebrating Christmas early. Maybe this girl would like Santa to come down her
chimney.”
J.D. shucked his trousers.
He climbed into their bed.
He said, “Ho Ho Ho.”
The author (at right) even manages to slip in a sly bit of autobiography. This
passage with Kate Blaze ruminating about southeastern Arizona comes straight from the heart:
Kate, born in the East, had
come to love this country. When it was her time, when God came looking for her,
He would find her in these southernmost borderlands of the U.S. where mountain
ranges—the Huachucas, the Whetstones, the Mules—were already dusted with snow
above the tree line. Big sky country where a soul could breathe.
This was her home. A land of
open prairie and rugged mountains and isolated pockets of what they called
civilization; small towns like Horseshoe. Beyond the town limits, beyond the
mountains lush with pine and game, home of the Apache, the vistas swept clear
to the distant horizon, where you could roam free. She led a free range life
with J.D. and she could never again live any other way.
One of the things Kate loved
out here was the weather. She could recall snow blizzards that had hammered the
desert right around Christmastime but more often the season was like today. The
daytime air crisp but pleasant in the sunshine. It beat hell out of the harsh
winters she’d endured growing up as a kid back east.
J.D. Blaze sums up Blaze! The Christmas Journey with the borrowed lyric, “What a long, strange trip it’s been.” That’s true. It’s also a tribute
from Mr. Mertz to the land he loves, a celebration of the Christmas spirit, and
a rollicking good time. Minus the sex stuff, it would make a great TV movie.
Are you listening, Hallmark Channel?
The book, or eBook, can be had HERE.
Monday, December 19, 2016
Orson Welles in THE GLASS KEY (Radio, 1939)
I've seen both film versions and a rare live TV production, but didn't know about this.
Friday, December 16, 2016
Peter Lorre and Barry Nelson in the first CASINO ROYALE (1954)
Here's "Jimmy" Bond, only a year after the book was published.
Wednesday, December 14, 2016
New from Stark House: Shanghai Flame // Counterspy Express by A.S. Fleischman
Having
enjoyed Stark House’s earlier A.S. Fleischman duo, The Sun Worshippers /
Yellowleg. I welcomed the arrival of this new volume. And I wasn’t
disappointed.
Shanghai
Flame, a Gold Medal orginal from 1951, is a corker of an adventure set in (you guessed it) Shanghai and at
sea during the Chinese Revolution. The Commies are taking over the town, and it’s
no place, as the author tells us, “for an American journalist without a gun in
pocket.” But recently canned reporter Alex Cloud is obsessed with finding and
regaining the love of the woman he wronged, a red-haired fellow reporter he
calls “Flame.” Trouble is, she hates Cloud, is obsessed with a lost love of her
own, and may have turned Red.
In
his pursuit of Flame, Cloud gets entangled with smugglers, thieves, cops, killers
and spies, and saddled with microfilm that must—at all costs—be kept out of the
hands of the bad guys. Fleischman supplies a multinational cast of well-drawn
characters, each with his or her own agenda. There’s a treacherous French
tavern owner, an all-knowing German with fingers in every evil pie, a mysterious
Italian, and any number of murderous Chinese. And: an Irish ship captain of
uncertain loyalties, a White Russian vamp with a killer bod, a French-Chinese
wife who steals the key to her chastity belt, a snooty French filmmaker, a
Mexican attorney/juggler, and a black Irish mercenary. All this, and (shades of
Terry and the Pirates) pirates too.
Plot-wise,
there are echoes of The Maltese Falcon (a good book to echo), with a conniving
mastermind, a Joel Cairo stand-in, and a Captain Jacobi-like scene, where a guy
comes through the door with a knife in his back.
The
book is an interesting snapshot of the political climate. One character nicely
sums up the situation in Shanghai: “China was opened up like a melon one
hundred years ago for the profit of our world. Now she closes the melon, picked
and rotted. But a few remain, like flies.” So the flies are flying away, as
fast as they can. In one scene, anti-American protestors are rampaging through
the streets carrying grotesque effigies of Uncle Sam and wearing dogs-head (as
in “running dogs) masks.
Counterspy
Express, featuring a CIA agent, was first published as half of an Ace Double in
1954, only a year after James Bond made his debut in Casino Royale. It’s an
interesting look at an American spy novel of the same era. The spy in this one,
who uses the alias of Jim Cabot, is sent to Italy to find and rescue a Russian
defector with info vital to the Cold War. Among his many obstacles are an
Italian Commie intelligence officer, a smug Brit turncoat who sells secrets to
the highest bidder, and the gorgeous Italian babe Cabot tries hard not to fall
for.
Bond-like,
the tale features a sequence of exotic locales and foreign villains, a harrowing
drive over the Austrian Alps and a deadly train ride.
In
the Introduction by the esteemed Mr. George Kelley, we learn that Fleischman deliberately
modelled his prose on Hemingway, but there are numerous lines that would have
been at home in a Hammett story.
I
never take good advice.
I
didn’t smuggle myself into this Red squirrel cage to do business with you.
I
looked at her breasts, full and breathing apprehensively. I liked what I saw
and it made me angry. I didn’t want any entanglements.
She
stared at me.
“You
bastard,” she breathed.
“You
meddling idiot,” she growled.
“You
goddam newspaperman,” she spat.
We
walked out of each other’s lives once. I wanted you to keep walking. I still
do.
The
brittle edge came back into her voice. “I’m trying hard not to be a bitch.”
“You
must not be trying very hard.”
He
spent the rest of the afternoon in the pilot house boiling over with oaths.
Rage did not die easily within him.
I
threaded my way to the main deck, where several hand-to-hand fights had broken
out. I got in one.
Shanghai
Flame/Counterspy Express will be published this Friday, and is now available for pre-order from Amazon and other fine retailers.
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