A full circle, Magazine and Fanzine Covers

Hudley Flipside | Punk Rock Colleague • Historian • Archivist

1984 to 2016…and beyond…LOL

“Hudley.”

“We were mocking the mockery before these guys and the Chili Peppers (who happened to be on the back page of Flipside # 43 that we were on the cover of)! Where do you think they got the idea?”

~ Eric VonArab is with Louie Garcia.

Los Angeles Flipside Fanzine Back Cover Issue 43. August 1984

Life is a type of cosmic mockery.

The creative impulse seems unique and fresh but often is another mockery of sorts. Walking around the mall yesterday with my youngest son I see fashion has now taken that mockery place for me.

A full circle of fashion that copies my youthful generation. What we purchased at thrift stores; straight legs and big shirts and boots; or fancy dresses from my mother’s youthful generation. Sequin dresses low in the front with a jeweled brooch.

My cats and I are mightily routine orientated. My Monday morning shopping is to avoid the crowds. I am often amused by the magazines at the checkout counter.

Today my heart raced a little faster. Not due to the young men on the cover; I prefer the older and wiser, but the overall layout of the design.

I have seen that somewhere before.

https://www.etsy.com/listing/1081684528/red-hot-chili-peppers-rolling-stone-june

Was it in the mid-1980s when I was at my prime that I orchestrated a hand full of punk musicians to pose partially naked for the cover of Los Angeles Flipside Fanzine 43? I try to put it behind me, but life is a type of cosmic mockery. Hilariously and repetitiously so…

“To answer the question where I got the idea: Out of the black. It was just a flash of insight and some youthful individual female power at the time. I told you to take off your clothes, you did, and I took some pictures.”

~ Hudley Flipside

Los Angeles Flipside Fanzine Front Cover Issue 43. August 1984

Check out the T-Shirt for Sale… Click on the image below.

Equilibrium and Sparks

“This he [she] feels, is my proper vocation, this is the optimum, the law, the life for me to live. Here I find the degree of equilibrium, safety, calm and leisure which I need, or here I find the challenge, passion, fight, and hardship with which my soul’s energy expires.”

~ Pg. 256 Par. 1, The Varieties of Religious Experience William James

Making fruit salad this morning is a proper thing to do for breakfast. It is when I got to the pineapple, after the strawberries, that I thought about Dad. He was the one that showed me how to cut up a pineapple. He grew up on the California Santa Monica Pier.

His mother gave him his own stand on the pier selling pineapple. She set him up good for a young teen. He cut up the pineapple and sold pineapple on a stick.

All profits were his to keep. Along with diving off the end of the pier for two bits, or body building at the original Muscle Beach, his stories where nice to hear while he taught me just this skill.

Generational Differences

Punk Rock Colleague & Historian and Professional Consultant

Hudley Flipside

Martin Sprouse and Tim Yohannan (RIP) at the MRR House, 1987

~ maximumrocknroll.com

RIP Tim.

I know that Punk Rock is supposed to hate hippies.

Joe Strummer pissed on The Beatles, but he was once a hippie before he merged into a street punk as well as our friend Tim Yohannan from the ongoing Maximumrocknroll.

I grew up living and experiencing the ‘sixties. I have one older brother who seemed, at one strange time, to be a flower child. Pot unites both. Yet I must say my heart and soul resonate to the punk scene with lots of jazz on the side.

I have often thought that John Fogerty and Colin Abrahall have similar strong singing voices. They hit me the same way with generational differences of course.

Also, Eric Burdon and Keith Morris both have that deep singing tone, of continuity and rebellious style, which turns my blood to a boiling point.

Me like!

Music

sax

Music, music, music. The sound of the music. I can not say there is one favorite instrument that moves me. It depends on what kind of mood I am in and what kind of music is pulling at me. I do have a saying that I am inspired from one note to the next, one song to the next. There was a time when I constantly listened to one song to the next.

A good beat is a must as well as a strong guitar…

Yet the saxophone is the instrument that speaks to my soul. I think for me to feel deeply, sexy and inspired with life; that would be the instrument for me.

The sound of the guitar can rip through my spine, the bass hugging the drums makes me quake, the xylophone feels like rain,

it is the saxophone that cools my insane. It is not to late… to learn to play… I say I say….

https://dailypost.wordpress.com/prompts/strike-a-chord/

Super-Sheroes

One can view the original BAUBO PROTAGONIST in the collection of art on-line via Super-Sheroes. Below is the second and the third is on the way. Thanks goes to Flopside Comics and Mr. Fuck who is my all time muse and general asshole… and to the Hags!!

It is a good thing to have the opportunity to be supported in this way. Take a view and have some fun.

That woman walk … A dip thing…

My favorite Marilyn Monroe film is Clash by Night. It is a rather unknown film Noir with leading lady Barbara Stanwyck. The reason I like this film is because Marilyn’s character is so good. She is charming, sexy, cute, and loyal. The beginning of a great dramatic actress. There are some remarkable scenes shared by Barbara and Marilyn. One particular scene I love is when they do a walk tight together.

They connect and do a deep dip walk with long strides. As if the whole world disappears and it is just them on stage. Real vaudeville bump and grind.

Defiantly affirming their place in the world. It makes me cry and feel as if I could join right in. In general, their relationship portrayed in this film seems good, playful, and accepting; the older actress making way for the younger one.

I enjoy studying Barbara Stanwyck’s films Noir. They have that dip into the dark side of reality that is pulling at all the right emotions. There is nothing like her type of Film Noir.

Fuck Wars

~Flopside Comics are Offbeat absurd adult toilet paper humor funnies.
Not for those without a nasty and stupid sense of humor.
Staring Mr. Fuck and his adventures in life.

Is that comic relief coming out of your “be more than an asshole?”

Proceed at your own risk at all times… no big deal really….

“Art of Fugue”

…. in contemplation on something…all possibilities… and I still say “Fuck Wars”…. around and around we go over the subject… persistently…. I say “Fuck Wars!!”

Sociology of Punk Rock Presentation for Whittier College

Punk rock Memorial Day… this is one of my first presentations and it just happened to be at Whittier college.

I presented this at Whittier College, a place that holds special significance, as it is in celebration of the very roots where Flipside was created and published. Nestled within the little sleepy town of Whittier, California, known as the home of Richard Nixon and once a thriving Quaker farming community, the essence of this town is steeped in history. Underneath the nice façade of this quaint little community were some rebels with a musical cause, fiercely enthusiastic about the sounds that resonated from the underground.

A handful of guys and gals, driven by their love for music, came together to challenge the status quo and creatively made things happen in a unique way, pushing boundaries and inspiring others. Anyhow, this is not just a recollection but the ongoing story of my time served, a lazy yet impactful little folktale about Flipside Fanzine that captures the spirit of a unique era in music and community, where art and rebellion intertwined seamlessly, leaving a lasting legacy that still echoes today.

This is my celebration at Whittier College.

Thanks goes to Jeffrey Gunn and Students who inspired me to present this… and to my children’s children who may want to know what the old woman did when she was a kid. Ha Ha!!

Before using professional software, I relied on PowerPoint for presentations.

Sociology of Punk Rock Presentation

egos

I read in one of my books that shy and introverted people tend to blossom on the internet. Also that it is women over 40 that made the Kindle come alive and become so successful.

I am part of those statistics and I don’t mind. It is a vortex vertex… in and out. Taking it in like breathing while learning and pushing it out like creating.

It is in this process that I find myself smiling and I like that feeling. Mirror, mirror on the wall is not just something that holds our reflection looking back at us.

It is a dimension into another realm. It asks questions and demands answers.

A test. Sometimes I find that when an individual tries to override their ego… the collective ego of humans somehow comes beseeching them… the poor soul.

This is a strange thing. I wish we could all just be happy for blossoming people who out feel their controlling egos.

Hope

“A little song on the breeze”
What a gentle little Zephyr
This evening will sigh
Under the pines in the little grove.
And the rest he’ll understand.”

Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart
LE NOZZE DI FIGARO
Act III Duetto: “Sull’aria…che Soave Zeffiretto”

“Andy Dufresne: That’s the beauty of music. They can’t get that from you… Haven’t you ever felt that way about music?

Red: I played a mean harmonica as a younger man. Lost interest in it though. Didn’t make much sense in here.

Andy Dufresne: Here’s where it makes the most sense. You need it so you don’t forget.

Red: Forget?

Andy Dufresne: Forget that… there are places in this world that aren’t made out of stone. That there’s something inside… that they can’t get to, that they can’t touch. That’s yours.

Red: What’re you talking about?

Andy Dufresne: Hope.”

~The Shawshank Redemption.

The last eight years have been a strange recapitulation for me of my life.

Some esoteric individuals call it a preparation for the “return of Saturn in my natal chart.” It is the time of turning 57 to 60. Yet I have experienced it all the same, in the last eight years.

A couple of years before 2010 is when it started; a need to look back at my youthful rebellion. Now the revival or nostalgia has reached a Peak of the Bell Curve. As a generation feeling, I was not the only one from my generation feeling the same pull. It is all in the song, one note to the next, and it took me back to a time when finding a 45 was not an easy proposition.

Now it is too darn easy.

Authoring a book has lost its charm now because there are so many ‘telling a tale’ or ‘weaving a story ‘of those same rebellious times.

For me it all comes down to the experience. Looking it square in the face and being happy. I am admiring old friends that still hang to the musical notes of rebellion, where some friends /comrades are as warm as the sun and others as cold as death. Yet it is a good journey still to hope for something new without memories.

Andy Dufresne: You know what the Mexicans say about the Pacific?

Red: No.

Andy Dufresne: They say it has no memory. That’s where I want to live the rest of my life. A warm place with no memory.

~The Shawshank Redemption: Stephen King

“Few in the most polished circles could bear.”

Random Book Day By Hudley

On this bittersweet Sunday…caramel, salt and sweet day on accomplishment and fucking stupid neighbors and old fences torn away to expose my private sanctuary. I am pissed with Lilith beyond enduring… my voice speaks fire… so the best I can do to water this flame mouth and heart is reach for the first book I see next to me… oh little Mantis with you long razor arm…. I see a yellow blur as the book opens…

A random page, a random paragraph moves in my green mind… reading…

Portrait of the English romantic poet Percy Bysshe Shelley (August 4, 1792 – July 8, 1822), engraving by William Finden from a painting by Thomas Lawrence. United Kingdom, approx. 1812 (Photo by Fototeca Gilardi/Getty Images).

“For the rest, she was annoyed and depressed at being confined to middle class inferiors; “a new world” to one accustomed to Shelly and Byron, and to one who distinction warranted the best England had to offer.

Godwin’s best were a few professionals the older playwrights Knowles and Reynolds, the youthful Landseer, and the Prentis brothers, Stephen a poet, Edward a painter whom he invited for teas, supper and whist at The Strand, where Mary looked so out-of-place that Henry Crabb Robinson did not know her at first; “elegant and sickly and young’ and an implausible author of Frankenstein.

Harriet de Boinville, who had broken with Shelly when he left Harriet but now pitied and admired Mary, would compare her to…

An exotic transplanted unhappily into an unsuitable soil and shrinking before rude and shilling blasts…Your early and intimate intercourse with the most refined of human Beings has left you a standard for comparison with few in the most polished circles could bear and from which springs (of necessity) your dissatisfaction…”

Page 251, Heroism, Mary Shelly by Emily W. Sunstein… I type as each word appears randomly to my understanding…

Mary Shelly

Book Reading of The Day Randomly, Every Sunday !!

Sunday hot Sunday is here. Too hot to handle and no fun at all so Mantis looked over to the nearest book on the nearest shelf. One that holds a few Rock & Roll numbers if only indirectly. A Gofuckyerself Press paperback book called MOSQUITOES & WHISKY by Chris Walter tumbled into the green claws. <Made In Canada> ;P

“More wine glasses!” shouted a waiter. He was very upset with the way I wasn’t doing things. Why didn’t he cut me some slack?

I shoved a large rack of wineglasses into the hungry maw of the industrial dishwasher. “Two minutes!” I hollered over the horrific din of the kitchen.

“We need more serving platters, too!” yelled the waiter. Perhaps he thought I was a magician. Without waiting for the glasses, he spun on one heel and stormed back out to the dining room. Another guy who needed some café a la urine. Pg. 123

Read the Trilogy:

Mosquitoes & Whisky

I Was a Punk Before You Were a Punk

I’m On the Guest List

http://punkbooks.com/

Vulvamony Tango

“Frankly I find smoking a Sherman a very pleasant addiction that we acquired via human beings…male, female…whatever gender… in the future you all will be self-producing androgynous beings like us… we have no perky nipples …only staring eyes…”

An assumption by Hudley via the character / aliens imagined by someone else… ~ Tralfamadorians.

Rendering of the Tralfamadorians / 1969 novel Slaughterhouse-FiveKurt Vonnegut by Hudley Flipside

I am still lost in the debate over why men have nipples… it seems to me we need to put down our margaritas, martinis, coca-cola, multivitamin shakes, macrobiotic drinks or simple water…put down our cigarettes, marijuana, multi colored Nat Shermans, cigars and bubblegum; take each other’s hand and dance the tango…but please don’t ask me to give a testimony in court because I have no testicles to make such a swear.

I will take an androgynous vulvamony… anyway… I am still lost in the debate of why men have perky nipples!!

“The Electromagnetic Hypothesis of Olfaction”

Punk Rock Colleague & Historian and Professional Consultant

Hudley Flipside

“What a wicked web we weave /When governments deceive/And I wanna believe……/I gotta believe/Conspiracy theory abound/But the truth is under ground,/I wanna believe I wanna believe/I gotta believe”

~ GBH

I have a suspicion, and I believe that Colin Abrahall wrote the lyrics to the song “I Want to Believe!” I woke up with it on my mind. Also, those “X-Files” feelings got my pineal gland stimulated again. Something is in the air. I can always feel it when Chris Carter is creating by way of the vast unconscious collective of writers. Believe me, I just know. Before big hair Giorgio A. Tsoukalos there were the great big hairdos of GBH!! See how it all comes together here. I am pulling the threads tighter too.

the_x_files_i_want_to_believe_2008_blu-ray_pic01

“Scully: Mulder, since we’ve been here you’ve acted as if you’ve expected to find every piece of evidence that we’ve come across. What aren’t you telling me? Why are we here?
Mulder: A true piece of history, Scully. The very first X-File. Initiated by J. Edgar Hoover himself in 1946. ‘ X-Files“

When the X-Files film I Want To Believe came out in 2008 I was thrilled. You have to know that I was a hardcore fan of the 1990s X-Files series throughout the 90s; besides nursing the babe I looked forward to Unsolved Mysteries and then the X-Files on Friday nights.

“We are made of stardust, our whole body consists of material that has been here before the beginning of time.”

~‘Giorgio A. Tsoukalos

Now before the 2008 release of the I want to Believe film we listened to the Ha Ha CD in our car. GBH’s song I Want To Believe, was to me, the perfect new addition to the this film. I put so much anticipation into the song and the film I thought for sure that Mr. Carter would use the song in his film. I was sad when the two songs only came together in my mystical place of belief… but I was projecting it hard onto the movie screen … believe me!!

What does all of this mean… it means something and in time I may understand…. but for now…

“The Electromagnetic Hypothesis of Olfaction” at the Society for Scientific Exploration conclude that insects use a portion of the EM spectrum to communicate.”

‘Pg 207 Lost Star of Myth and Time by Walter Cruttenden

Lost Star By Walter Cruttenden

Folklore, science, mythology, art, religion, archaeology, mathematics…it goes on and on in a our cyclical history. Starting with a Golden Age to the Dark Ages and to the present ascending age.

This book holds a powerhouse of information and research with a holding theory that we live in a binary solar system. Yes incredulous and far-reaching as it sounds it is a book that needs to be read.

Part of my ongoing search for the meaning of life !!

Tattoo therapy

While at Sam Ash music store (RIP), to pick up some sheet music with youngest Son, a worker there said something to me,

“Does that hurt?’

I looked down at my arm and held it as if to see if it did. I then remembered the tattoos there.

“No!”

“When you got them didn’t, they hurt you. On the bone I mean?”

I said no again…

“The first two needles felt like a halo came over me. It got hot. I felt anxiety for a few seconds. It did not hurt me.”

Then a weird look came over his face. He was about my age. A thin musician type.

“They say that tattoos are addicting. That the more you get the more you want to get them?”

I am not the addictive type. (Only with the band the Saints. Oh know, I typed their name. Now it looks like I will end this post with another Saint’s song.)

Then he asked me,

“You got more?”

“Yes a few here and there!”

“Ya see when my Mom and Dad died it helped me kill the emotional pain. It was a religious experience for me…it was therapy.”

“OK. nice talking with ya.”

The Sam Ash worker walked away. I proceeded to the sheet music section of the store.

Mr. Kale

Blue Cheese Crumble

Having to eat better is a good thing. Hormones and emotions play nasty games with my blood pressure. My Kaiser doctor tells me I have sweat more and eat better.

I have a great relationship with Mr. Kale now. Cakes, pies and cookies…and pints of beer…I am seeing less of. In fact, if you were to line up chocolate cake or a big piece of wedding cake with mile high rich white frosting together with Kale; I would now walk away with Mr. Kale. It is that good for me. I love the texture and taste.

I’ve created a blue cheese crumble to put over and mingle with the deep savory expectations of my large dark green leaves of organic Kale.

Mr. Kale took the indecent proposal well! Now my Venus veins are doing the good green sweating for my happy health.

The Recipe

Any container from the market of crumbled blue cheese.

A bag of sunflower seeds. Any kind will do; salted, roasted or raw.

A colorful handful of shredded cheddar cheese.

Another colorful handful of dehydrated purplish red cranberries.

Mix together in your favorite mixing bowl.

Cut up the kale in bite size pieces.

Put kale into a voluptuous large salad bowl

Put blue cheese crumble on top. Mix intimately.

Eat as is or save in refrigerator with cover for later.

It only gets better with time…

Some Grape seed oil, sweet vinegar, a couple drops of Tabasco and salt & pepper dresses well with this too.

I also like to use I Goddess Dressing; Simple Truth Organic.

Play this loud so everyone can hear it !!

Even the sound of a pepper tree…can house a mad woman !!!

Yesterday…the only cleaning lady to ever come to a house I have lived in, came to clean the sawdust and dirt off our new kitchen cabinets. Also to finish cleaning up the remodeled kitchen is a new experience for me as well. My mother lived in the same house for 50 years and never did this.

So, indirectly, I’m doing this for mom and myself. It is amazing. Fourteen years in a house, as old as me, gets a face lift. I can compromise. Yet this is not the focus of my story.

The focus is on a cleaning lady. She was nice to me. We gave her all the things she needed to clean. This is all part of the contractor’s agreement of course. As I sat in my computer room the entertainment began. She started having a very loud conversation with someone in Spanish. I am not bilingual. It was not so much her cleaning with one hand as she held her cell phone in the other, because I admire multitasking. It was the loudness. I could hear both sides of the conversation.

They started to, badly, sing songs. The birds stopped singing outside. Like a cat that pisses on its territory, this cleaning lady was pissing on ours. I was amused and so I let it happen.

This took me back to the day when music was loud. Woofers & Tweeters, Ghetto Blasters and Car Radios screamed like the cleaning lady’s conversation. Now a new generation of earphones & headphones with long earbuds dangle under shirts that are camouflaged.

A flip listening to music has happened that this cleaning lady has not learned about …yet. These are the facts, either she is unaware of her actions, does not give a shit about the environment that she is now in, or…. I will leave that up to you…dearest reader. The loud but nice cleaning lady did her work and was off.

play loud… to mom!!

Thought that I would forget you?
Heaven knows that’s not my style.
And that I would let you…
Walk away without at least goodbye.
You shouldn’t let those feelings fool you.
You shouldn’t let those feelings get you down.

We’re happy together now.
Feeling you close to me baby.
Happy till the end of time.
We’re happy together now.
Feeling you close to me baby.
Happy till the end of time.

We’re happy together.. happy together.

Thought that I was a devil?
But I’m an angel waiting for my wings.
And I was out to hurt you?
But I’ve no wish to ever ’cause you pain.
‘Cause there’s enough in this world of sorrow.
I’ve no wish to add some more to it.

We’re happy together now.
Feeling you close to me baby.
Happy till the end of time.
We’re happy together now.
Feeling you close to me baby.
Happy till the end of time.
We’re happy together.. happy together.

I don’t hear a symphony
All I hear is the beating of wings
What I’m trying to say is you’re my only.

enlivens

Wherefore is light given to him that is in misery, and life unto the bitter in soul?
Job, 3. 20

I am the kind of person that likes to be alone. The sounds of nature outside and the sounds of the house inside bring familiar ways to the reality of life. All seems good. Only when people get involved in my living equation do I get the feeling of being lonely. Those past and preset friends and family I sometimes am lonely for, do show their faces in my heart. I had my first Art show. I was lonely for support. With loneliness comes disillusionment.

I have an image by William Blake. It is a small image in a pretty golden frame. The image is of Job. Above Job are four beautiful angels with their hands and wings ascending upwards. With Job is the adversary and below him is a cave of desperate people. They are all looking up.

We have just finished remodeling our kitchen. I put this image in the new kitchen. I am waiting to properly hang it there. This morning I am amazed to see a ray of light from the morning sun shining on this image. Job is illuminated as well as the Angels above him. The light is perfectly aligned with this part of the image.

When ever I am truly lonely I have images/ paintings around my home that inspire me to look inward: penetrating an image until it starts to speak to me and so enlivens my sometimes lonely soul. I can not think of a character more lonely than Job and like Job sometimes we just have to endure our loneliness for a while.

I would be a fool to say there is one time. so far in my life, where I have been the most lonely. Loneliness is a common feeling we all share…which I do not wish on anyone.

If the doors of perception were cleansed, everything would appear as it is – infinite ~ William Blake

https://dailypost.wordpress.com/dp_prompt/daily-prompt-7/

Furlong Moll

She spent her time wrapped around wise guys or a big cheese bimbo.This is where she got her forecasts. Playing the races and ditching the dogs is where she was keen on…a real bearcat! Her tic-tack-toes pivoted the dance floor as she kicked her heals up. No panties yet lots of lace; pink, black and off green.