HEY YOU !! My Intellectual property
All material on this site belongs to me Hudley Flipside aka Holly D. Cornell. If you want to share ask me first …. (unless identified as other)
February 2012 – 2020
- "In the beginning there was a void except for the written word." The Avengers (Band)
- Art Stuff Man…
- Book Reading of the Day
- Book Reading of the Day, it's Sunday !!
- Books I Dig
- CDs and anything to review that i want toooooooooooooo!!
- Current Events..
- Dialogue with Breasts more than a sex object.
- Embellished non-fiction short stories
- Holly Duval Cornell's Poems & Prose
- My Red Book by Holly Cornell
- Nature Politics
- PUNK NO-stalgia :Punk Rock
- Records, CDs and anything to review that i want toooooooooooooo!!
- The Daily “FUCK” Gazette
- the Esoteric heart beat…
- The Praying Mantis
I am happy to be a member of…
“That’s one thing Earthlings might learn to do, if they tried hard enough: Ignore the awful times, and concentrate on the good ones.” ~ Kurt Vonnegut’s “Slaughterhouse-Five
So, I continue to follow the words of the Tralfamadorians. It is easy in my cave to think upon the past right now. I want to “concentrate on the good ones.” Which has been an ongoing theme of my posts. These awful times in general during a pandemic and having to hear all the terrible stupid rotten things that a losing president will do makes me depressed. It is beyond absurd….
Los Angeles Flipside Fanzine Comic Relief Issue # 33 was an incredibly fun issue to work on. How we gathered the crème de la crème of punk artists was remarkable. It came to my mind in an informed dialogue and I like it. I presented this at the Los Angeles Punk Museum in 2012 on a big giant board display. ( July 1982 , press run 3,000. Staff :Al, Hud Gus.)
Times like these, during a pandemic, my cave is a place of visions. I am seeing their faces today. The impression they made on me. Punk women and the days of falling into the punk realm.
Donna Rhia (Becky Barton) drove me around to shows. Jill Masters let me crash at her apartment next to the Whisky A Go Go. Hanging at the Masque as the Go Go’s practiced. Going to forbidden parties, such as when Hellin Killer got back from the UK, or hearing Lorna Doom’s comforting drole when Darby wined. Phranc as she showed me her collection of miniature things around her apartment. The girls of the Middle Class. Dancing to Question Mark and the Mysterians at Hollywood Towers while sucking on lemons with Gabi Berlin. Observing as some punk chick dyed her hair black at the Canterbury apartments. Lois with long red hair like the song Red Rubber Ball who lived in Whittier California. Kat Talley-Jones egging me on and trying to tell me how to spell. I was an naïve fledgling punk journalist.
Los Angeles Flipside Fanzine had Punk Women grace it’s cover too.
My focus is who they were. Fearful, excited, and now addicted I had no ambitions but to melt with the punks I identified with. I am highlighting them today.
I was not popular and just filled space. Yet never did I imagine I would live to reflect on these women in my cave while bear snickers over there in his warm water SAUNA during a pandemic.
Kira Roessler and her rain boots as she walked out of the Whiskey.
I was influenced, inspired, and shaken-up by these gals.
“Sallie Sallie was a punk monster. She had loud make-up. She was crazy and unpredictable. Waiting at a stop light in my car across from the Whisky a Go Go, Sallie Sallie jumped on the front of my red VW Squareback. She wiggled, going spastic. I secretly loved her and wanted to be her close friend. She soon disappeared from the punk scene. As I said it seems many faded out as new punks came into the punk scene.”
~ MY PUNKALULLABY HUDLEY FLIPSIDE Pg. 29.
My Punkalullaby journals are now available as a paperback book.
Neat Neat Neat
No crime if there ain’t no law
No cops left to mess you around
No more dreams of mystery chords
No more sight to bring you down
I got a crazy got a thought in my mind
My mind’s on when she falls asleep
Feelin’ fine in her restless time
Then these words upon me creep
Feeling anemic, angry, sick of the politics and love bites… I’m against it… sure wood like a dog…
Image form New Wave Chicken Fanzine
It is a time to look at what came before us, what has passed but still lingers in our hearts…. a door was opened today… I will try not to overdo it… but here is the place where we share what is important to us and what makes us as unique as our fingerprints… A little more about the Scotland Yard Pub in Canoga Park, Ca. and punk rock and the continuity of music…
Many nights of live music at the local pub, The Scotland Yard Pub …. .’It was a great homogeneous experience at the Scotland Yard Pub like pud. A bunch of people mixed together with suds, music and fun. Delicious !’
Yes I said delicious like pudding.
I have more posts that I will continue to put up here… yet I am grieving a friend and a place…. As many of us are currently lighting candles for loved ones who have passed on.
Flipside Reunion at the Yard
That’s one thing Earthlings might learn to do, if they tried hard enough: Ignore the awful times and concentrate on the good ones.
~ Slaughterhouse-Five, Kurt Vonnegut
As an older earthling, at least I believe I am one, in these rather ‘awful times’ I find it easy to ‘concentrate on the good ones!’ Today when the car radio played the song Come As You Are by Nirvana for the millionth time, I had a strange flash back to a similar punk anthem. Amoeba was the song. One day I drove out to Troy High School in Orange County all by myself. Adolescents and Agent Orange played that day. The song that I superimposed in my mind over Come As You Are is the song Amoeba. It was so clean, powerful, and moving. The songs feel the same in intensity too. They knocked my socks off. I include the live review below from Los Angeles Flipside Fanzine # 20. (The Circle Jerks, Halloween Issue. October 1990.)
I have other good times too like the days I gave birth to my two sons, riding Sony, the white mustang, freely over the hills of the Santa Monica Mountains on a foggy morning, and the first time I had sex at 15 in my parents’ downstairs bathroom. All new and interesting adventures.
So again, I have posted about life being like a “Slaughterhouse-Five” experience. And though times are very crazy I hope we all can find comfort in our good memories.
“Men’s courses will foreshadow certain ends, to which, if persevered in, they must lead,” said Scrooge. “But if the courses be departed from, the ends will change.”
― Charles Dickens, A Christmas Carol
Birthdays and deaths get so much kindness in the media and especially on Facebook. I am hopeful that after we pass, we can come back and look and see all the nice things said. It is always good most of the time. Unless you are a serial killer, a dictator, or fuck-up politician that manages to get away with killing thousands of people.
In my esoteric studies many perspectives parallel. That when we die, we view all the terrible things we have done to others and all the good. This is contemplated by those who teach karma and how it works after death. Yet sometimes you can see it work before death. If you live long enough.
In famous literature we have the wonderful “A Christmas Carol. In Prose. Being a Ghost Story of Christmas, commonly known as A Christmas Carol, is a novella by Charles Dickens.” Here karma plays the karma drama in real time.
Another of my favorites is the musical Carousel, 1956. Billy Bigelow does die but he gets to come back after death as a ghost to influence the living in profound ways.
I like to visualize that we will all have either opportunity if the time is right. To influence others in a positive way, or to somehow be co-creators of our destinies.
A current event Special Flopside Comic…. Benito Mussolini is dancing in the fire….
Full Moon September 30 2020
“Even a man who is pure in heart
and says his prayers by night
may become a wolf when the wolfbane blooms
and the autumn moon is bright.”
The she-wolf clan worked for the extraordinarily rich at the time of the Inquisition. Working in their fields and farms as shepherds. Living in the woods and sitting in their clans around their campfires. Sometimes wearing the skin of the wolf. Sacred to them and very ancient old and ritualistic. Like many aboriginal people who lived off the land, sometimes during the colder seasons when hunting and gathering was bleak they had to be creative. A chosen one would put on their wolf skin and go to the rich man’s field and steal one or two of the sheep to feed their families. When caught they were crucified with wolf skin on. Declared,
The devil she-wolf …
and so, the legend was born.
Every autumn we are reminded of the return of the she-wolf who seeks justice from an unjust world …. especially on the first full moon of Autumn!
We heard a loud cry from the second story building and theater and looked up. There was Ross.
“Hudley, in a heavy English accent.
It was a few years ago in Ventura County that GBH came out to greet my family and I. Colin saying,
“We got a real treat for you; we will be playing Lycanthropy live tonight.”
As a fanzine writer I had the great opportunity of meeting all the bands. I became close to Charged GBH. They would tease me saying that they would play Lycanthropy live. So, on stage the drum, bass and guitar would lead into the song to expand into another. I was not the only one being teased either.
I admit my hypertension cannot quite grasp the enthusiasm my body wants to express these days. The full room of sweaty bodies, punches and assaults were not as extreme during the 1980s. Yes, the slam pit was tough yet there was a unity that was more supportive if you fell or were a girl or she-wolf.