I don’t know if I will get to all 11 from my catalog but at least I got to two more. From the original catalog I did in the 1980s. I wanted fans to at least get an organized sense of what we had to offer. I find it delightfully youthful and fanatical as a 65-year-old woman to read these. We were all into the punk scene and loved it madly. I was about 25 when I made this up.
(I am not a professional DJ haha).
Punk Rock Historian & colleague and Professional Consultant
Hudley Flipside
Maybe a cliché or fuck up, or glitch will be found… my burning tears… always found in an honest Los Angeles Flipside Fanzine project or on a vinyl record played too many times….
My celebration today…
A Hudley Flipside Editorial
Rodney on the ROQ vinyl band compilation. Vol. 1-3
Issue 21
Flipside Fanzine 21
December 1980
Brooke Shields – Introduction
Agent Orange – Bloodstains
Adolescents – Amoeba
Circle Jerks – Wild In The Streets
U.X.A. – Tragedies
Klan – Pushin’ Too Hard
Black Flag – No Values
Rik L Rik – The Outback
Crowd – Right Time
David Microwave – I Don’t Want To Hold You
The Nuns – Wild
Fender Buddies – Furry Friend
Vidiots – Laurie’s Lament
Simpletones – T.V. Love
New York, Surprise! – Is That All There Is?
Issue 28
Flipside Fanzine 28
November 1981
Target 13 – Rodney on the ROQ
Social Distortion – 1945
Shattered Faith – Right Is Right
Black Flag – Rise Above
Minutemen – Search
Redd Kross – Burn Out
CH3 – You Lie
Agent Orange – Mr. Moto
Red Rockers – Dead Heroes
Unit 3 + Venus – B.O.Y.S.
The Stepmothers – Where Is the Dream
Gleaming Spires – Are You Ready For the Sex Girls
The Little Girls – The Earthquake Song
Levi and The Rockats- Ready to Rock
Twisted Roots – Snaked
Geza X – We Need More Power
Issue 35
Flipside Fanzine 35
November 1982
Kent State – Radio Moscow
Ill Repute – Clean Cut American Kid
J.F.A. – Preppy
Channel 3 – Seperate Peace
Catch 22 – Stop The Cycle
Pariah – Up To Us
Red Scare – Streetlife
No Crisis – She’s Into The Scene
Rudi – Crimson
Unit 3 with Venus – Pajama Party
Bangles – Bitchen Summer (Speedway)
Action Now – Try
Signals – Gotta Let Go
Gayle Welch – Day Of Age
Radio Music – Johnny Angel / New Dance
David Hines – Land Of 1,000 Dances
Rodney On The ROQ Volume One, Two and Three.
Rodney On the ROQ Volume One, Two and Three. (1980s)
Flipside Fanzine Inserts.
Looking back on the covers of these three compilations brings a smile to my face. Picture this: “Young girls on the covers” – it was definitely an uncomfortable experience for me! However, I am excited to say that we experienced a wonderful evolution with the arrival of Flipside and Gasatanka Records.
Flipside / Gasatanka Records and just Flipside Records in the vibrant 1980s era, we witnessed a creative surge that was both exciting and transformative. The label, which was eventually formed later, resonated deeply with all of us at Gasatanka and Flipside, capturing the essence of the underground music scene. This connection fostered a sense of community and innovation, allowing us to explore eclectic sounds and foster talent that challenged the norms of the time. Through collaboration and a shared vision, we aimed to elevate music that truly embodied the spirit of artistic freedom and expression that defined that remarkable decade.
…. Hudley Flipside
History of Flipside Records.
https://hudleyflipside.com/category/flipside-records-1980s
Click on this Image to get you Posh Boy Punk Iconoclast T-shirt
Do you remember those art films you watched in class in elementary school. They got me to wondering just like a mystery or scary film. So, I decided to engage those memories with my own art mineral film.
Youngest son had to go study minerals and gems … a fun day at the LA Museum but both the LA Memorial Coliseum and Natural History Museum of Los Angeles County are surrounded by poverty and such a treacherous drive to get there.
The duality of life is witnessed! Many older women wait at the bus stop, as fast cars cut corners in the pursuit of oblivion? Strange dark corners in old broken apartments hold desperation or reflection as I see!
In return the big rich donors to the museum are great, as the surrounding community lacks such concern!
Happy unaware children and babies and a history of preservation even on a hooked tip of a once weaponized airplane!
If women and men and all those in between and around, don’t fight for their rights, be it small or major world changing … unfortunately there are nut jobs ready to take over the world in a very unfair, crazy, and fascist way. Most of them have lost their ability to discern and hold to a propaganda or support system that is a dark, fear inspired, hate and stupidity blended homogeneous in their coffee coffee. They are drinking it down…
No American woman should be denied access to family planning assistance because of her economic condition.
~ Richard Nixon
Dorothea: What is that?
Abbie: It’s The Raincoats.
Dorothea: Can’t things just be pretty?
Jamie: Pretty music is used to hide how unfair and corrupt society is.
Dorothea: Ah, okay so… they’re not very good, and they know that, right?
Abbie: Yeah, it’s like they’ve got this feeling, and they don’t have any skill, and they don’t want skill, because it’s really interesting what happens when your passion is bigger than the tools you have to deal with it. It creates this energy that’s raw. Isn’t it great?
~ 20th Century Women
When I was growing up my dad would not let us talk politics, religion, or science fiction. We lived in a male dominated world and that was how it was. When the 70’s hit things started to change. When the civil rights movement grasped the main media in the late 1960s and the women’s rights movement in the 1970s, it changed the main media exchange and life became a real lesson on our human rights.
“Roe v. Wade, 410 U.S. 113 (1973), was a landmark decision of the U.S. Supreme Court in which the Court ruled that the Constitution of the United States generally protects a pregnant woman’s liberty to choose to have an abortion.”
As a young lady Planned Parenthood clinics became available to us all over the USA and beyond.
“Planned Parenthood has received federal funding since 1970, when President Richard Nixon signed into law the Family Planning Services and Population Research Act, amending the Public Health Service Act. Title X of that law provides funding for family planning services, including contraception and family planning information. The law had support from both Republicans and Democrats. Nixon described Title X funding as based on the premise that “no American woman should be denied access to family planning assistance because of her economic condition.”
I have a friend who I grew up with who plays by the extreme conservative playbook. Where civil rights and a woman’s rights are changing for the worst. She did not want to have children, so she consciously got sterilized. When I was about 18 after being group raped and then having an abortion, I too almost took that measure. Yet I am glad I did not. I now have two sons that I can’t imagine living life without.
Now in some states she could not have that right to choose, nor I for that matter. God did not strike us down for our decisions.
Yet now she supports a political agenda hurriedly ascending to take away those rights, well it does not make sense.
It is like seeing a big image of Nixon on the back of a stage with Kari Lake foaming at the mouth with her anti humanity propaganda. They don’t make sense. It is absurd.
How do you reason with a drunk dad who is calling you a moron when you want to watch Star Trek.? You can’t.
20th Century Women (2016) was not a big film, but it holds a high degree of foresight about what was coming and is right upon us now, again. It tells a narrative rich and believable and endearing. And yes, I got to work with the production to share a image but it is an image that is endearing to me.
It was my story about being a woman in the late 1970s and how one image was used, and I never got credit for it, until in the ending credits of this awesome film. I could not think of a better way to achieve my goal. Which makes the film so special to me and that I took my two boys to see it when they both were still living at home. A special time to teach my boys about women, civil rights, and the early punk scene. But most importantly about what it is like being a mom.
In conclusion as a mama, punk, one who supports civil rights and a woman’s right to choose, to one who wants national healthcare for all, I just had to set the scene straight… there is something off here in the time we are witnessing, and it is not good.
Tonight, wee hours of morn… I have been spending time awake with my animus!
A cup of coffee my ambrosia
kneading kitty on my lap
Happy happy
Thinking of male figures in my life
Who I admire and love!
Tonight I,
Acknowledge the male within me
You have not lost me
I embrace you
And let you cry
honey let it out
Weeping weeping wet tears
My night with animus!
Heal the headache, tears
Heartache and trauma.
The earth and sky
Jupiter and moon .
In Greek religion, the staff was carried by the votaries of Dionysus. Euripides wrote that honey dripped from the thyrsos staves that the Bacchic maenads carried. The thyrsus was a sacred instrument at religious rituals and fêtes.
Light and shadow magic comes to visit at different times in life.
The wind was strong and pushed over my angel solar light. I just got home from shopping as I was looking up at Jupiter and the waxing moon.
I have been changing my routines a bit. I go shopping at dusk now and take my showers in the morning or in the middle of the day.
Taking morning walks is something different too.
When I saw the angel at an angle, I ran to fix it when I noticed the shadow playing on the wall behind it.
I said aloud, “A Ghost Mantis holding a Thyrsus.”
I will let the angel be.
I took a picture and played with the image on Adobe Photo Express.
A Minister of Chaos is dead.
Absence of human conscience and consciousness.
“The Double does not exist only as an Ahrimanic shadow in individual men. There are members in this Doppelgänger sub-hierarchy of far greater power who act as the anti-spirits of peoples, nations, and races.
And finally, there is the World Doppelgänger, the Anti-Spirit of Humanity, which plays its historic role as a servant of Lucifer in opposing the rightful evolution of human consciousness.”
Pg. 291 The Spear of Destiny, Trevor Ravenscroft.
Taken from The Terrible Death Bubble Gum Comic A Flopside COmic!
“I am the spirit that negates,
And rightly so, for all that comes to be
Deserves to perish wretchedly;
‘Twere better nothing would begin.
Thus everything that your terms, sin,
Destruction, evil represent—
That is my proper element.”
― Johann Wolfgang von Goethe, Faust – Part One
Friday night was time to go out and celebrate because my man was winning a Chess tournament online. Youngest son, my man, and I made three. We went to the local Pub and then bar to celebrate properly.
We played darts at the Pub and had some healthy “Humulus lupulus” while listening to real records. The hiss and scratches and well listened to 45s made the music more enjoyable to me. Soul, ska, and other melodies moved through the Pub and lots of hugs were shared.
At the next-door bar, we had some cocktails and enjoyed the slow ambiance of a well-loved bar. Nice and easy with an anime film on the screen. A break from the usual sports in most bars.
As we were finishing, I looked over to see a man with a beard. Brown and friendly looking. We smiled in what I thought was a happy nod of enjoyment.
He came up to us as my youngest son got up to take care of business. Then the man walked over to my man and me.
“Not just Jews were killed in WWII by the Nazis.”
We responded with a knowing agreement. Then he went on.
“My great grandfather saved a whole lot of people. Christians mostly and not many Jews.”
Seems this guy was reflecting upon his grandfather and WWII.
“You liberals think it was only Jews. You who voted for Biden and Kamala Harris!”
We then got a little confused and I said,
“How do you know who we voted for?”
Then he addressed me directly,
“Who did you vote for?”
“None of your business!”
We batted that back and forth a few moments.
Then came the flip into a world of conspiracies and insanity when he looked at me and addressed me singularly.
“You liberal voting people think only the Jews were killed in concentration camps. But you are the real Nazis.”
“How do you go from talking about WWII and then accuse me of being a Nazi?”
I then put my hand on the table with a whack. Telling him about how my dad got a purple heart as a captain pilot during WWII.
Then I explained myself by saying,
“I respect that your grandfather saved many lives during the war from concentration camps. Yes, there were all sorts of people who died there, and the people were also saved. Gypsies, Christians, Jewish people,
I really don’t think it mattered who you were or your faith. Hitler killed anyone opposed to his belief system of inhumanness.”
The man with the beard seemed filled with total contrary ideas that made no sense but only served to confuse and attack others who he found offensive. He is one of the “ministers of chaos.” Who spreads their hate talk.
It was a really sad moment of the evening, and when he told me he did not give a fuck about Iranian women’s demands for freedom I turned my back to him and walked away with hands up.
Youngest son confused him by saying,
“I didn’t vote for Biden.” (Just to see the bearded mans confused expression of an unexpected answer.) And added,
“Thanks for the story.”
Nothing that going to Denny’s didn’t wash away fast…
At Denny’s restaurant, youngest son was laughing and said,
“I was staring at the tiles in the bathroom and then I walked out, and you were talking to this guy. It was a weird thing to walk into….”
He really enjoyed the contrary people we met last night between the pub and the bar. We have not gone back since.
“Alister Crowley adopted different identities when the mood struck him-and, like Trump, did his best to keep his name in the newspapers-and chaos magick asserts that one’s identity is malleable, that one should “reinvent’ oneself often, play different roles. We should pretend to be someone else, to envision a “magical self” possessing all the qualities that we desire, something that some New Thought advocates also suggest .
Chaos magick also promotes the idea of using “shock tactics” saying something “outrageous” in order to “enhance personal power,” something that, as with much else about chaos magick, seems to come to Trump naturally.”
Pg. 76-77, Dark Star Rising, Gary Lachman
These chaos ministers are a part of
WE THE PEOPLE,
They are out there,
and it is something to be aware of,
Even at the local bar.
Does George Santos ring a bell?
He is a manifestation of this “Crazy un-Wisdom” of “Chaos magic!”
Seems it is what it is.
In a bar in the San Fernando Valley California
To the House of Representatives
And some Senators…
bewildering our beloved District of Columbia,
these dark spirits or anti-humans are hanging around,
spreading their chaos,
chanting their bullcrap chaos magic.
Using “shock tactics” saying something “outrageous” in order to “enhance personal power!”
May 7, 1945 … yesterday some celebrated Germany officially surrendering to the Allies, bringing an end to the European conflict in World War II. Churchill gives his V for victory salute! Yet in truth it is much more than that! If you don’t believe in magic listen up ! Some symbols are powerful.
This image or salute was given to Winston Churchill by Aleister Crowley, occultist, ceremonial magician, poet, to protect him ( his country.. the world) from the diobolical depth of the Nazi Party . History is what it is. I made up a few badges … I use it against Trump 👽
Flopside cOmics.
We waited and It took the Epstein Files to get them to work it out… amazing… November 2025
Flopside comic of political persuasion.
Will our female representatives engage in “mischievous” crossover voting for the good of WE THE PEOPLE?
Mr. Fuck came out of his Bomb Shelter. From up in a tree, he watched through the window into the neighbor’s TV the endless votes in the House of Representatives. He saw that they were overwhelmed with dysfunction. Then a car drove by blaring a song. Mr. Fuck knew the song by John Lennon / Paul McCartney.
“Try to see it my way,
Only time will tell if I am right, or I am wrong.
While you see it your way
There’s a chance that we may fall apart before too long.
We can work it out,
We can work it out.”
He thought about the women in the House of Representatives, and he knew what he had to do.
“Mr. Crap how about bringing out those watercolors? Also ask Hudley for some watercolor paper.”
“I am on it,” said Mr. Shit.
Miss Opossum in the tree nudged Mr. Fuck saying,
“If Mrs. Racoon and I can work it out so can the ‘human females.’ ”
“Tell Hudley we need some brushes too. Also a few beers, a couple shots of Jameson whiskey and a big pot of coffee.”
“Don’t forget the half & half and honey,“
said Mrs. Racoon.
On Fallbrook and Victory in the San Fernando Valley
Punk Rock Historian and Professional Consultant
Hudley Flipside
Life is so contrary and beginning and ending all the time. The stars seem stable, as they dance their astrological dance. The moon and sun and seasons are very dependable but not the storms or the opposite whispers of joy and enlightenment we may find. This earth will always be a contrary place sweetened with continuity and music.
Yesterday before the rain, Sara and oldest son walked over from their apartment. They are counting their steps. Later they left and we decided to join them halfway on their journey home. A longer walk than my usual mile per day.
It was easy all the way until we said goodbye and then we walked slowly onward, and we headed home, husband, youngest son, and I.
Would we get something to eat?
“No, it is past 6 PM and I don’t like eating much after then.”
That is what they get for always asking what MAMA wants.
On the way with Sara and oldest son I noticed a broken book on the ground. The pages danced below our feet for a long while.
I picked up three of the pages as a focused random moment of finding something wandering and enlightening me from the dirty street of trash. On this dark cold evening of winter.
A man was covered with such trash in the middle of the sidewalk next to the shopping mall and restaurants. He was pretending to sleep as cars raced by and we walked around him.
I sadly declared.
“He is going to get mighty wet when the rain hits?”
Husband quickly responded,
“He is most likely waiting for the shopping mall to close down. I am sure he has a safe place there.”
My feet got sore, and my back ached and howled as we headed home.
Now today I read the book pages tossed on the ground like leaves in a storm.
One thing that stood out were the lyrics for a song.
The pages are filled with words about music, slavery, finding a voice and hope. Someone was looking for their roots, history, and family.
I thought about my own family history. I think this is a push to get going with my own pages filled with words about music, slavery, finding a voice and hope. Hope from lyrics. A song inspiring us to dance to the hopeful dream of music.
As the dancing pages on a dark and dirty street.
“This is an invitation across the nation
A chance for folks to meet
There’ll be laughing, singing and music swinging
Dancing in the street.”
I saw something unexpected today. Billy Idol got a star on Hollywood Blvd. and Mr. Henry Rollins was the presenter. I saw the photograph on a site. Now and then I do like to reflect on my punk rock glory days.
I think upon these two characters that influenced us by their music or words in a big way. I knew them, as many of us did, as youths with deep and high ideals that I once respected.
I met Billy after he left Generation X.
He visited Hollywood. A group of us youthful rebellious punks were talking about music. We were in the back of a liquor store waiting for some beer because we were not 21 yet. Someone was WHEELING AND DEALING with the booze scheme. Billy and I were talking about the Beatles and how much he loved them. He then cried on my shoulder stating to me that he missed his mates back home.
The beer arrived and a friend of mine whisked him away and that was the only time I met him. Over the years when I see him or hear his music, I often reflect back upon that sweet young kid who was kind of lost.
Henry was a wild youth too. He was kind of funny and thoughtful when I first met him. Yet as time went on our friendship soured. I think it was due to a subscription to Flipside Fanzine he never received because his letter fell behind my desk. Maybe the critical reviews I did of him in Black Flag were thought to be unfunny. His lack of humor made it easy to accelerate into doom.
Funny how a guy from England and a guy from DC can be standing on the grounds whereas young punks, who grew up here, used to run wild on those same streets. Then no need, or sense of fame or fortune.
Once equals as friends and fans of the punk scene, they got bigger, and we got smaller. Yet I think I am happy with my place in the world, and I hope they are too.
The sweet and bitter is what punk rock left me. As a punk rock fanatic,
That’s the way it crumbles, cookie-wise
~ The apartment (by Billy Wilder, 1960)
Punk Rock Historian and Professional Consultant
Hudley Flipside
The Seminary of Praying Mantis Publishing.
Dianne Chai from The Alley Cats 1980s
Image from Los Angeles Flipside Fanzine Photo by Hudley Flipside
Night at the Whisky A Go Go.
“Trust your own instinct. Your mistakes might as well be your own, instead of someone else’s.”
— Billy Wilder
Look at Amazon in your country and most likely you have direct publishing and / or arrangements that make ordering, printing, and shipping so easy. For a global community it is pretty cool.
46 years ago, Los Angeles Flipside Fanzine first published this little annoying punk rock rag. By a bunch of guys who caused considerable trouble.
It has been an odd mission of mine to keep the light shining on its memory for those out there who want to share in the Flipside Fanzine narrative. I prefer this to the darkness of an archive or virtual nowhere land. Or even the dissection of everything all the Flipside material on the internet and other places.
So, 2023 is a number that goes well with 1977. Forty-six years ago, the Los Angeles Punk scene had a creation story that countless authors have written about. Many now want to document that time through different means. Flipside Fanzine documented that original punk scene in real time. The Los Angeles Flipside Fanzine Issue # 54 Ten Year Anniversary Issue did document the punk scene. 1977 to 1987.
Turning 65 next year means I am over the hill and on my way, very close, to grandmother’s house. All the social security and Medicare to figure out. As my husband says,
“The government designs it to make you fail, they want you to fail.”
Maybe so but like most things in my life it takes effort to get things done and done right. The end of 2022 I was delighted to complete the Los Angeles Flipside Fanzine Creation story narrative documentary / film. Shinning the light on Larry, Tory, and Tony.
Epeisodion One, Two and Three… thanks Larry, Tory and Tony…
Punk Rock Historian and Professional Consultant
Hudley Flipside
“Mr. Sandman (yes) bring us a dream
Give him a pair of eyes with a “come-hither” gleam
Give him a lonely heart like Pagliacci
And lots of wavy hair like Liberace.”
Silver dollars are on my mind. The magic as I view them from my memory or imagination. Mom went to Las Vegas and would play the slot machines with these babies. She would bring home many buckets full to take home to her kids. She kept them in her back bedroom closet for years.
She would pull them out every now and then as we admired the coins. Large hold in my small hands.
After her death oldest brother Greg stole them. I don’t know who has them now. He died a year back, so they are with some unknown person.
I miss mom’s large bedroom with a big window that looked over the Verdugo Mountains. The San Fernando Valley was a deep chasm of hills and homes and the Woodland Hills Golf Course.
Often, she had her radio program on that played music from the 1940s and 1950s as she sewed up dresses or clothes for herself, my sister or myself. A sewing machine on a table that had everything you could imagine for creating fine clothing.
Laying out the patterns, pinning the material and cutting were all something I watched closely.
Then a song would come on and she would start to hum it. I would sometimes dance. This was one of the songs I remember, and the song holds the memory of my mom as we danced around her bedroom.
Mr. Sandman
Sandman” (or “Mister Sandman”) is a popular song written by Pat Ballard and published in 1954. It was first recorded in May of that year by Vaughn Monroe & His Orchestra and later that year by the Chordettes and the Four Aces.
I love watching Perry Mason on TV before I go to bed. It is part of my routine to relax and watch a time before technology, big technology, took over. Phones, telephone booths and stylish clothing are comforting to watch. Yet what I do endure are the commercials in between.
A new one this season is Walgreens commercial. I try not to pay attention, which has a little logo saying, “It is not magic it’s Walgreens,” Here we find all the magic and wonder of the holidays and then the terrible quote. It is kind of negative propaganda as the company is an evangelical organization most likely. The war on magic and our imagination is horrid.
When I see the commercial, I quickly reflect on the song Pure Imagination from Willy Wonka & the Chocolate Factory.
“Pure Imagination” is a song from the 1971 film Willy Wonka & the Chocolate Factory. It was written by British composers Leslie Bricusse and Anthony Newley specifically for the movie. It was sung by Gene Wilder who played the character of Willy Wonka. Bricusse has stated that the song was written over the phone in one day. The song has a spoken introduction.
“Ladies and gentlemen
Boys and girls
The chocolate room
Hold your breath
Make a wish
Count to three
Come with me and you’ll be
In a world of pure imagination
Take a look and you’ll see
Into your imagination.”
Eve Tempted by the Serpent
William Blake (1757–1827)
Photo credit: Victoria and Albert Museum, London
“There are two things’ children should get from their parents: roots and wings.”
~ Johann Wolfgang Von Goethe
“E: I have already uttered the words, The image that I saw was crimson, fiery colored, a gleaming gold. The voice that I heard was like distant thunder, like the wind rearing in the forest, like an earthquake. It was not the voice of my old God. It was a thunderous pagan roar, a call my ancestors knew but which I have never heard. It sounded prehistoric, as if from a forest on a distant coast; it rang with all the voices of the wilderness. It was full of horror yet harmonic.”
Pg. 237 [v.6] C.G. Jung The Black Books.
As a student of esoteric studies, and lay person of depth psychology, I learned about our vital bodies. We have our physical body, our vital body and our desire and mind body. Four bodies superimposed on us as we are awake living our lives.
At night, I have learned, when we go to sleep something amazing happens to us. Our desire and mind bodies disengage from our physical and vital bodies. All bodies are connected by sturdy life threads. Life sustaining.
It is at this time in sleep the physical body is free from desire body and mind body engagement so the vital body can heal our physical body. The mind and desire bodies float above us like balloons on long strings as the vital body does its healing panacea. Assimilating, regenerating, and eliminating is the work of our vital body.
We are like trees, often unconscious, reaching deep with our roots into our earth mother and reaching up to the sun and the cosmos bringing in sunlight. This is when we learn about the wonderful relationship we have with other planets. But mostly our bodies recover from the damage incurred throughout the day by simply living our life.
Having Covid-19 I have experienced the powerful work of my own vital body. It is so important to sleep when one has Covid-19.
It was hard to sleep for me. The pain, the fever, the fear was overwhelming. Yet when I did, I felt like a tree and the power work of sleeping happened. Waking up many times as if I went for a swim. And after such nights when I did sleep, I felt better.
Once I experienced a kaleidoscope of coughing over and over with visions of myself… it was how the world outside of me and inside of me merged. There was a battle going on. And for those of us who shared this battle you know this experience as well.
“The vital body, on the other hand, has no other interest than the preservation of the dense vehicle. By way of the spleen, it specializes in the colorless solar energy which pervades space, and by some strange chemical process transforms it into a vital fluid of a beautiful pale rose color, sending it along every nerve and fiber of the body. The vital body ever aims to husband the energy it has stored in the dense body. It is constantly concerned in rebuilding the tissues when they are broken down and destroyed by the powerful onslaughts of the rampant desire body.”
~ THE VITAL BODY BY MAX HEINDEL
The spleen is the largest organ of the lymphatic system. Located in the upper left region of the abdominal cavity, the spleen’s primary function is to filter blood of damaged cells, cellular debris, and pathogens such as bacteria and viruses. Like the thymus, the spleen houses and aids in the maturation of immune system cells called lymphocytes. Lymphocytes are white blood cells that protect against foreign organisms that have managed to infect body cells. Lymphocytes also protect the body from itself by controlling cancerous cells. The spleen is valuable to the immune response against antigens and pathogens in the blood.
Having all the vaccines I chose not to get the PAXLOVID. I don’t do well with side effects.
At this time of the year the veil between the living and the dead is so thin. Dreams are intense yet with Covid-19 my mind is weak. Yet last night I do remember the end of my dream.
I was in a large, lovely field. Maybe the place of my ancestors, Cornwall, England. It was dusk or maybe the sun was just rising. A slight mist was in the air. I was waiting to catch the vampires. I got to see them outside of my body. We stood there all looking at each other and aware.
I saw at least three or four hovering, lingering in this vast open field. I was there to conquer them.
I awoke.
Today I feel much better. I only share the feelings left of a body that battled and won. A sore back and chest. A sore throat that once was tight with heat. And then signs of a cold are slowly disappearing. Fatigued but here to live another day.
I think of all the cowboy fights I watch on my favorite show Gunsmoke. Right after a fight of getting his ass kicked, a cowboy walks up into the bar and orders a whiskey. Then powers it down, walks out and gets on his horse and rides away. No problem!
Reb Kittredge: I ran into a little trouble this morning. I had to leave my horse back up the trail.
Rita: If I closed my eyes and took a deep breath, I’d say you still had him with you.
~Gunsmoke
Punk Rock Historian and Professional Consultant
Hudley Flipside
Dad served in WWII and was once stationed in Adelaide Australia. I recently talked to a professor from Queens University of Technology (urban coastal city of Brisbane) John Willsteed about Punk Rock for an academic book, and I have a few friends from the country. Recently longtime friends the Talley-Jones’s went on an amazing journey in Australia. Yet for me it is selfishly always about The Saints.
Writing letters has always been my thing. I might have written them unreadable at first, but I often would get intelligent and friendly responses. Either way I keep writing them to companies, authors, and friends. In my twenties working on a fanzine, I did spend a great deal of time reading and typing up letters from fans and adversaries for Los Angeles Flipside Fanzine.
One letter I wrote in the late 1970s was to the band The Saints. I never got a response. It was about their Prehistoric Sounds Album I had a question for them.
I remember writing the letter on an old manual typewriter in my parent’s house looking over at the Verdugo Mountain Range of the San Fernando Valley. White out, finding a stamp and an envelope and walking to the Post Office to mail it is a consistent and blurry memory for me, but a true one.
I’m inspired by the band’s edition of a type of horns background band sound. Or as they say a horns section. An incredibly unique sound for me as a youngster. So, I wrote to the record label at the time. Whatever address was on the inside insert or record label for HARVEST. How silly that was but now I find it a very endearing thing for a fan to do.
Finding out about the Aints much later I can see a band that includes that sound I was curious about. Specially from one of my favorite songs. A nice continuity and happy way to see the endurance of an album, scene, song, or people. Bringing back all those good feelings too!
It’s still a thrill for me.
At one time I talked to music friends about a mystical journey of going to see Chris Baily sing in a pub in Australia. As the story goes, he would go to pubs and sing his songs. One of my friends who was thinking of going along is a local Los Angeles friend whose name is also Chris Bailey.
What dreams I had. A dream is now over due to Christ Bailey of The Saints recent demise, but I still hold the need to visit Australia someday, regardless.
It is so good to be in touch with Ed Kuepper though this electrical fire and still learn things about music, this place here on the internet. That he makes himself very accessible is sweet. I am only one of many fans who are listening.
This story I share is very comforting in a clever sort of way. I think the three fates Clotho, Lachesis, and Atropos are my friends.
Punk Rock Historian and Profession Consultant
Hudley Flipside
Moving slowly out into the world again like a young kid. But instead, I am now an old fool. That suits me just fine.
I feel a vacuum feeling drawing me down watching all the big festivals and bands touring. Been to maybe two shows since the pandemic began. Not eager to go out. Yet today I had to do something new locally. I saw a record store on Devonshire Street and Topanga on Facebook.
In Chatsworth a once sleepy town in the San Fernando Valley.
Yes, the horse stables are gone but finding DEADELY WAX Records did give me that old-fashioned feeling. No parking meters around and inside the place was cool and clean. A variety of records of all kinds from generations and genres.
Youngest son and I walked in and were greeted with a friendly hello.
All those good feelings coming back on a lazy Saturday in the San Fernando Valley.
From Jazz to Punk even saw a B People LP. I was walking through generations of music as flash backs mixed as albums passed my eyes in the viewing stalls.
I settled on two and son on one.
These summertime blues are eased a bit with a free feeling of what it was like in the valley once.
Now today it was just as nice. Easy traffic on the corner of Devonshire Street and Topanga an example of what life was like when head-shops and record stores once ruled everywhere.
Great place to go.
Son can stop by before or after going to CSUN and if I get the need I got a place to visit. Feels good to support a local small business record store.
Punk Rock Historian and Profession Consultant
Hudley Flipside
1976 -1977
HUD the young punk
The San Fernando Valley was a lot of fun for a short time.
Creating plenty of “amber moments” with Lynn, Sue, and a few others.
Today I had to make a Target run for my 100% organic cotton underwear or “panties” for short. Like it was such a big deal when it was announced in the film, Anatomy of a Murder. Yet it amazes me, and I feel like a pervert when I go into the lady’s underwear section here.
It has expanded out with a million of types of sexy underwear. I guess women put a lot of time in to thinking about underwear and being sexy regardless of the material. All synthetic and… well yucky. The little section of cotton underwear is small indeed.
“Sister Rose and Sister Blanche. Blanche saying they’re going door to door to collect …lingerie…for needy sexy people.”
~ The Golden Girls
Yet I digress, what really got me writing today is a song that came on the PA system while walking around. ‘Strawberry Letter 23.”
“Strawberry Letter 23” is a 1971 song written and composed by Shuggie Otis from his 1971 album Freedom Flight. It is also widely known by the 1977 cover version recorded by the Brothers Johnson and produced by Quincy Jones.
I knew the song briefly 1977 as a time when the tide came in with a variety of music. New wave, soul, disco, pop, punk, and progressive music. All merging in a kaleidoscope of fun.
Starbaby’s, The Mineshaft and The Red Onion were open for dancing. It was a great time for singing in back alleys with my buddies,
“This is the time for Jose Quavo.”
We all took shots and headed back into the clubhouse to,
“dance the night away.”
This was one of our favorite songs.
Punk Rock Historian and Profession Consultant
Hudley Flipside
We have not yet learned to value the creativity, courage, and competence required to negotiate the ordinary but devastating frustrations and crises of human experience.
Jacobs, Ruth H. Be an Outrageous Older Woman Harper Collins. Kindle Edition.
What strange times we are living in. The contrary nature of life is overwhelming. Nature seems a bit outrageous and shrilling.
Just last week youngest son was meant to go on his first Geophysics lab above Ojai, California. The coastal regions to studying the mighty earth and her movements.
Then he went to one party with ten friends. The only time in a long while where he felt safe. Then right before the event he got the Covid19 tracer call. He did not get to go to his well planned out lab. That was last Monday. Most likely the worst day of his life. The family all tested negative. We were lucky. Yet I was mad as hell.
The opportunity will come again because that is his major.
Security is a good need, I think. I did not always feel this way.
Today while watching some news about the floods in Kentucky a commercial came on. I don’t know what was being sold but the song caught my attention. It was the song Security.
Otis Ray Redding Jr. (September 9, 1941 – December 10, 1967) was an American singer and songwriter. He is considered one of the greatest singers in the history of American popular music and a seminal artist in soul music and rhythm and blues. Nicknamed the “King of Soul”, Redding’s style of singing gained inspiration from the gospel music that preceded the genre. His singing style influenced many other soul artists of the 1960s. Label: Volt – 45-117, Vinyl, 7″, 45 RPM, Single, Promo 1964.
But my favorite recording of this song is by, well you know, The Saints.
Label: Harvest – HAR 5166
Format: Vinyl, 7″, 45 RPM, Single Country: UK 1978
What do you do if they call you shrill because you demand your rights? You don’t get anxious about being unladylike. You realize that a man who fought for his rights would be considered appropriate and that ideas of what is ladylike have been used to control women for centuries. You translate shrill to assertive and smile smugly. Congratulate yourself that you have learned how to be assertive in your later years despite your socialization to be a “good girl” and cave in when confrontation arises, fearful of censure.
Jacobs, Ruth H. Be an Outrageous Older Woman, HarperCollins. Kindle Edition.
Thyrsus detail of Bacchus and Ariadne by Angelica Kauffmann (1741-1807)
I call upon Hiawatha and Dionysus
I often believe you two are the same
Friends of humanity and the earth.
As seeing the history of our earth and the waters of the earth.
As seeing nature and the growing things and vines and the wildness of this planet.
I think upon the goodness and wisdom of Hiawatha and Dionysus.
Both connected to the earth are the best ones to learn from.
As we see politically, globally, and as human beings we need to listen to them now more than ever.
They teach me to listen to nature, that magic is a gift, and our friends are closer than we realize.
The Dionysian Thyrsus is a powerful compelling campaign addressing the wonder of life and the earth and harmony.
It is all within us and outside of us.
Hiawatha speaks to the wind and in our souls of the equality of all things from minerals in rocks and out towards the star beings.
Balance and harmony, creativity and weaving our stories, hope and timeless ambition to run with the wildness of our natures.
Lady bugs to bear, mountain lions to the praying mantis.
Trees and rivers, rain, and thunder.
Love making to eating and dancing.
Hiawatha’s departure: Hiawatha sails Westward into the sunset
Photographic Print of Hiawatha/Longfellow. Hiawatha’s departure: Hiawatha sails Westward into the sunset © Mary Evans Picture Library Media ID 580113
