X on 93.1 Jack FM

I was pulling out the truck to pull in the trash barrels. I was very surprised to hear X on the radio. Especially on 93.1 Jack FM. This radio channel is usually very repetitious with their music.

The last time I saw X live was at the 30-year Golden Voice show.



Recently I have sadly been hearing about Exene Cervenka “Christine Notmyrealname,” in conspiracies as a Trumpian. Yet there has always been a hair of this type of thinking moving through this controversially surviving band.

When I saw them at the Golden Voice celebration, I knew every song by heart. That surprised me and my body went a bit out of control too. The young punk chicks looked so pretty and cool around me. Yet they were giving me a look, as if thinking,

“Who is that old fool?”

I didn’t care and was thinking back at them,

“Just old, like X , and a fan of their music…homies.”

The contraries of life are all around us… and it is perplexing at times.


“she had to leave
los angeles
all her toys wore out in black
and her boys had too
she started to hate every nigger and jew
every mexican that gave her lotta shit
every homosexual and the idle rich”

X – Los Angeles Lyrics


Interview with X issue Los Angeles Flipside Fanzine 10 1979 Interviewed by Al and X-8


Los Angeles Flipside Fanzine # 54 The Ten Year Anniversary Issue. (replica)

https://www.amazon.com/dp/1691716995


Green-gold olives

A poem

The Seminary of Praying Mantis

May’s eve I take my broom Last ray of sun is dead Here ... it is real... The shy clouds hide stars Only the Moon, Jupiter and Saturn Shine their breastplates Of radiant light… I take my broom to the front of our home Into the dustpan goes dry brown and yellow Pointy olive leaves and hard green-gold olives… Into the waste bin…away away Goes all the thoughts of this day Of a wooing crone… Looking around as I sweep and bend For any Fay to show their haunting ways In the clouds sailing on the night or Upon the grasping arms of the olive tree. Queen of Elphame mocks me As I move quickly and consistently I call her Sabrina… How symbolic have I become? Wild movement…yet strangely calm Sweet sweat dripping My dusty perfume... I do as many an old crone Sweeping clean the front of their home…

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Thinking strings… The Praying Mantis Has A Voice !!

via Thinking strings… The Praying Mantis Has A Voice !!

The Chapel of the Oaks

Another time to remember my mother’s death in a bright way. Love you mom RIP. January 6th.

The Seminary of Praying Mantis

A rose on the grounds Of the Chapel of the Oaks

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Youngest son wanted to take a summer drive. We stopped by the local fast food for a ‘buck iced tea’ and away we flew. Driving up hills that ascended into our imagination as the trail turned our minds.  The Yucca plants were standing tall, hidden within the snake turns of the mountains. Familiar objects of man and earth passed us by. The road driven as a waterfall that flowed onto Topanga Canyon Boulevard. Then something winked in my heart to the right of the canyon at Lassen and Valley Circle. The Chapel of the Oaks.


FullSizeRender(6) A bright day at the Chapel


It was bright today. The roses outside, and the stain glass windows inside the Chapel, were radiant. It was positively illuminated. Only one man was in the chapel as we sat down pulled into humbled silence.


FullSizeRender(8) A bright place …

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Imagine it all coming together again.

Prince Buster

Amazingly we are still alive. Punk Rock Bowling with the celebration of 40 Years of the Circle Jerks and Charged GBH this spring. I am besides myself with joy to be attending. Yes, all the bands seem interesting, yet my history also includes Madness. When I was a 19-year-old punk I was looking for a 45 by Prince Buster entitled Madness. This stirred me on a strange journey to a Los Angeles record store. They never could locate that 45 for me. Then the band came touring. At least the name of the band was right. Playing the Whisky A Go Go. I remember dancing to the band with Kick Boy Face from SLASH MAGAZINE (my first Punk Rock correspondence.) (Slosh and Flopside) It was grand beyond grand. Imagine it all coming together again.

Punk Rock Bowling 2020

Some of my best punk memories.

Ross’s bass guitar case. GBH 1980s

I am standing in this image next to Ross’s first bass guitar case. He gave it to me. He bought a new one. I lost it. Yet, my mom had put it in a special place. After her death we cleaned out the basement and their it was. How happy that mom preserved some wonderful punk history. I still have it and will give it “will it” to my sons. I love it like punk rock. I hope I am not sucking on Ross’s “tits” when I say I love him too. Thanks for thinking of me back then. All the best and looking forward to Las Vegas for a week of punk and beyond bliss.

FLipside Fanzine

Circle Jerks Cover


https://hudleyflipside.com/2013/07/23/city-baby-from-highgate-to-hawaii-life-and-gbh/


https://www.amazon.com/dp/1691716995


Lee Thompson’s song and (saxophonist) wow!

A hippie kills a punker

Life can be many things at once. Goodness and badness, light and dark, friends and enemies. These are the polarities that we are facing currently in our world of extremes.  Even though there is a third path, as in the fact, regardless bees are still making honey. Just go outside and find a bush with flowers. If you live in the very cold you may have to wait until spring. Here is California my hanging rosemary is going to town. The sound of bees is my convent to the earth. My repetitious theme song is by 10 Years After, If I Could Change The World. Redone by another band more on the punk side. So here we come to the core of my focus. The 60s, and the late 70s, and 80s. A decade each.

The 60s were an amazing time for free thinking and youthful rebellion against corruption. A sick government and a terrible war. Yet in this illuminated time darkness was born by the name of Trump. Likewise, the 80s a new music scene revolutionized forward with unclassified music that became divided and classified. Still mighty awesome. Then we have the general Qassim Soleimani who was just assassinated, who was born as a prime one for the punk scene.

Donald Trump born June 14, 1946 (age 73). He was prime for the 1960s as his youthful young adult time. Hippie time. Now we have the general Qassim Soleimani who was born March 11, 1957. He was born at a prime time for the genesis of the punk rock phenomenon. A punk.

The most creative times and inspired times in history the dictators are born. In the darkest times and in a vacuum of hate the best are born that humanity has to offer this troubled earth. In generational time frames a hippie kills a punker.

Nonetheless, do not lose sight of what is now happening right now.  We have a few knights rising to the call. I can see their light crescendos in the darkness. Very androgynous like most bees.



The Calendar

Sigrid Hudson Bishop

“Eternity interrupts. It is as if there is a plane where there is clock time and then eternity puts its hand in for a minute and you have an archetypal experience. You have a feeling of what Jung said was “the infinite, “and then very often the watch reacts to that.” ~ The Palace of the Cat: The Cat Marie-Louise Von Franz.



This is a short story about a friend. I find the best friends are not the ones that you make yourself but are the ones that find you. They stand the probability of time. They happen without planning and endure without much effort. She was like that. I first met her online on Facebook. We had common friends of friends. She was also interested in music as well as William Blake and Carl Jung. She showed up at my first speaking event at Whittier College.

Later she told me about a Punk event at UCLA college that I applied to and was accepted at. She was there for me and I shared many stories and my creations with her.

I think I inspired her to go to Pacifica Graduate Institute offering degrees in the clinical psychology, counseling, mythological studies and depth psychology.



At this time last year 2018, she offered me an extra William Blake calendar. I accepted it with honor. Every day I looked at the calendar and thought of her. Happy to have such a friend. Remarkable I am taken back by the last image of the calendar of The Archangel Michael Foretelling the Crucifixion.  She passed away this December 2019.



I am a weird Christian mystic in many ways. I learned that the crucifixion is symbolic of a person’s day of release from their physical body.

As friends, have our souls not spoken to each other?

I think so.


“They looking back, all th’ Eastern side beheld

Of Paradise, so late thir happie seat,

Wav’d over by that flaming Brand, the Gate

With dreadful Faces throng’d and fierie Armes:

Som natural tears they drop’d, but wip’d them soon; [ 645 ]

The World was all before them, where to choose

Thir place of rest, and Providence thir guide:

They hand in hand with wandring steps and slow,

Through Eden took thir solitarie way.

~Book 12 Paradise Lost; Milton.



To see a world in a grain of sand and heaven in a wildflower Hold infinity in the palm of your hand and eternity in an hour. ~William Blake


15 years as a cowboy… if they lived.


I love watching Westerns. I have my favorite channels. All the actors that played the cowboy game through the many years is amazing. Yet in truth the American cowboy days were short. Fifteen years after the civil war through the building of the train industry and barbed wire.

The Spaniards and Mexicans were challenged by Native Indians and then the Europeans. Carelessly leaving their horses and cattle to be taken over and bred by these new propagated cowboys. It is a brutal history as well as a beautiful one as in the current film Painted Woman. A woman was a mother, whore or missionary. Nevertheless, the women are robust and hearty characters as in the film True Grit where a young girl outsmarts many a gun shooting cowboy and avenges her father’s death.

A decade and a half are a short time for towns and saloons to be alive for this massive movement of the wild days of traveling and roaming cowboys. Then barbed wire and the movement of cattle by way of the train into mass slaughterhouses. To roam the prairie was gone.

I love these films as I do Noir films. Adventure, mystery the good and the bad guys and always the femme fatale or saloon lady entertainers.



Great above, great below

a favorite post…

The Seminary of Praying Mantis

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…from the “great above” she set her mind toward the “great below.” The Goddess, from the “great above’ she set her mind toward the “great below.”… Gilgamesh-is the Sumerian myth of the sky goddess Inanna.

To Inanna- bless the waters of this earth.

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Kind Woman: Inanna’s Trinity

A symbolic story and images inspired to now address this time of year as we celebrated the Winter Solstice . As Pluto comes forth offer him something nice….just saying. There is one thing I have learned. Pluto loves Persephone and Inanna too!

https://hudleyflipside.com/2017/04/18/pluto-love/

The Seminary of Praying Mantis

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“But when women succeed in maintaining themselves against the animus, instead of allowing themselves to be devoured by it, then it ceaes to be only a danger and becomes a creative power. We women need this  power, for, strange as it seems, only when this masculine entity becomes an integrated part of the soul and carried on its proper  function, and, at the same time, also being herself, to fulfill her individual human destiny.”

Pg. 42 Animus and Anima; Two Essays by Emma Jung.


Based on the ancient story of Inanna from the book Inanna by Diane Wolkstein

From Winter to Spring real change happens. The death of Winter and the rebirth of Spring. We now symbolically descend to the underworld as we approach winter.

Symbolically and esoterically the resurrection of Christ Jesus after three days in the underworld, the release of Prometheus by Chiron, and the release of Persephone…

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