Chris Bailey’s psychic being is still very strong

Nov 29, 1956 to April 9, 2022. 💐

“A gentleman with the mad soul of an Irish convict poet’: remembering Chris Bailey, and the blazing comet that was The Saints.”

~John Willsteed

Rendering of the band The Saints. Hudley Flipside, 2010.

I have often written that the band The Saints is one of my only addictions in my life. After the death of Chris Bailey, (now one year ago).

I have been grieving him and a general time shift. The 70s, 80s, 90s, 2000s, 2010s and now. Over 40 years. This band led me on a path into a different realm of being. I found a bunch of misfits like me.

I found my voice and I awoke from a kind of existential youthful experience to find myself and my soul. Music, friends, and a punk community that still holds my heart. Yet also knowing Chris Bailey was born the same time and so close to mine … we share these same generations or ten-year changes.

Youth to adulthood and being senior citizens. As this post explains so much more in an indirect way too. In my grief I decided to do something that I do once in a while to soothe my soul. I reached out to Carl Jung books. What came to mind yesterday was something from one of Carl Jung’s Black Books.

~ Volume two page 175-6.

I read from the last paragraph. I call it random reading. The intuitive response is amazing to me. Encouraging action also. So, with this so much is shared, and I am content to move on past my grief. Into a new season of life knowing that,

“the world beyond, where men are whole and complete, unlike here. The saint’s halo also characterizes his transcendent shining light, his psychic being.”

~ (p.162) The Black Books, Volume Two, Carl Jung

Life endures … this gives me hope maybe like finding the Sun!

“In this moment the enormous tension was released and like rain it swept away [57/58] everything that was tensed, too highly strung. And soon sleep returned and brought with it a curiously beautiful image.” {138}

“Forms walked clad in white silk in a colored atmosphere. Each surrounded by a strangely fragrant, glowing tinted aura, some reddish, the others blueish and greenish.” {139}

{138} “This paragraph was replaced in LN by “Then I had a second vision.” ” (p.162).

Picture.. reversed.

Picture by Judi Dransfield Kuepper.

The Saints (Barry Francis, Ivor Hay, Janine Hall, Bruce Callaway, Chris Bailey) at The Hero of Waterloo, Sydney. 1980. Picture by Judi Dransfield Kuepper. Image taken from article by John Willsteed. Link Below.

https://theconversation.com/a-gentleman-with-the-mad-soul-of-an-irish-convict-poet-remembering-chris-bailey-and-the-blazing-comet-that-was-the-saints-181059?fbclid=IwAR3o-g8RRKpyNxgIQ6x7QsihP9fTBaDqaBZhzozuQI0oHlaWVenjLWeZ_F8

“Jung recounted this dream to Aniela Jaffé and commented upon it as follow: This is some kind of in-between realm (the term definitely occurs in the original version of the dream) The idea was that if one is confronted with the shadow- as was the case through the experience of Siegfried’s dream then the idea comes:

I enter into a twilight: I am this and yet also something else. And this doubleness an abdication of the unconscious, which reached strangely far beyond me.

Like a saint’s halo- This has a strange effect on the attitude toward the human being.

If one is in the company of several persons, and one knows them and knows about their shadows, one then sees these people as they are, but are also something entirely different. They are surrounded by a strange sphere. They live in a strange, light-colored sphere, which circumscribes their ‘other’ state.

This seemed to me to be like a vision of the world beyond, where men are whole and complete, unlike here. The saint’s halo also characterizes his transcendent shining light, his psychic being.”{139} (MP, p. 170)

The reminder of this entry was replaced in LN by “I know, I have stridden across the depths. Through guilt I have become newborn.” (p.162)

Carl Jung’s Black Books. Volume two page 175-6.

Siegfried’s dream

http://mlwi.magix.net/siegfried.htm

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Black_Books_(Jung)

The Forgotten Room.

Just call me HUD…

Once at a pub a guy came up and said, “What do I call you HUD, Hudley Flipside or Holly?” I told him, “… just call me what you want…. ‘Hey you’ will do.”
At the Pub

I struggled with the name Hudley Flipside but now I have a solid feel for it as my good writer’s name that has history and contemporary standing as a dame to be reckoned with. Over 40 years now!

Being a behind the scenes punk was fun. It was a lot of hard work and was often boring. Such as picking up the mail every day, typing endless words written by punkers whose writing was hard to read. When no one else would do the work, I did it.

For all the good punks celebrations going on around here. I want to join in and say a little something about the Hudley Flipside name. My last name was Hudson. Someone called me HUD… maybe X-8… and it caught on. Or maybe it was someone from a band before Flipside Fanzine… who knows?

The point being it became my name as a publisher and co-owner of an underground punk Fanzine. I am kind of put upon to say that I did not think the “punk rock community” would be so uplifting and supportive of itself. There were times in the 90s when I ran away from it and hated it. Not the case now.

I’ve learned to appreciate it and try to flow with the best of it. I am part of the punk community whether I like it or not. Anyway, as I am an old dame now, I want to join in with one of the best pictures taken of me as a youngster by Al Flipside. He took a lot of them too. We had thousands of pictures and negatives all around the place. Pictures of cats, bands and beyond.

https://www.amazon.com/author/hudleyflipside

Old post…..

Today I was watching as the wind blew a whirlwind on top of a pool of water. It moved around as a tornado or Golden Ratio. A soft movement as it was. I authored this poem at the end of a Los Angeles Flipside Fanzine CATALOG that I put together. I was most likely 20 or 21, maybe younger or older. A 1980s me. I wonder where I was back then? So goes my journey of Intellectual Property and gathering Flipside merchandise together. It was nice to see it all again. So, here is a place if anyone wants to know some original source of Los Angeles Flipside Fanzine. I will continue to look for more of it from the 1980s.

Who Cares?

Somewhere in a realm

of something true and light,

Is a purple flower!

And all who pass it

Can never find it,

Because somewhere

Between the loud

Music at shows,

And the morning after shows,

The purple flower

(Which is always shining)

Is lost in us.

This is tearing us apart.

From what all of us could be,

Friends trying to

Understand each other.

Among all the dragons and desires

And lies

are the purple flowers.

Listing to people’s minds

and seeing their desires

Float through their

Personal orbits.

These mystical blooms

Are trying to reach.

Some and help some.

Usually, I find myself.

Painfully talking to

illusions of people

Who are disconnected?

From the reality

Of the purple roses and

Of friendship and of

Life.

The silent ear

Has died, no!?

The loud music is now

Replacing it,

Trying to scream it,

the truth,

but falling away

From the truth.

Is revenge or hate or gossip the trip

You take

or is the silent

Purple flower in your grasp!

… Hudley (1980)

Flipside Record Six

Anti Scrunti Faction were a queercore punk trio from Boulder, Colorado. 😄

It is amazing to think back and realize how regular mail correspondence through the US Postal service was the spine of the Punk Rock movement. I can say I was a punk rock correspondent entrepreneur. This is how I met Leslie Mah and Tracie Thomas of A.S.F. During the punk scene of the 1980s, tapes and correspondence were part of our lives and I was taken by the gals of A.S.F., mostly because women were not a big staple of the scene we had grown to know. I made it happen and we put out their record. Women, punk rock, politics, sexuality, racism, and abounding creativity is the loud heartfelt sarcasm that emanates from this band. I remember making vegetarian spaghetti in our kitchen with Leslie. Taking Leslie and Tracie to the beach was a real treat. I got my first tattoos with the A.S.F. girls. A contrary experience for me because at the same time we were working with the bands Doggy Style and Detox. Some of my best memories of co-running a fanzine. Leslie Mah and Tracie Thomas went on to have an interesting life creatively and I am happy for them. Look them up you may be surprised.

One can listen here…

https://www.discogs.com/Anti-Scrunti-Faction-Damsels-In-Distress/release/2004128

(From the original Flipside CATALOG)

This is the debut LP by Boulder Colorado A.S.F.~Anti Scrunti Faction, a joint release by Flipside and Unclean Records. “Damsels in Distress” features the very colorful artwork of Leslie Mah, the band’s bass player and singer. Inside you’ll find 18 thought provoking tunes, a lot of which deal with a woman’s view of the punk rock scene as well as the world. – and it is no wonder -two women in this band. This critically acclaimed punk classic features these songs: “Boys will be Boys.” “Sugar and Spice,” Writhe like Worms,” “Big Dick,” Resist The lies,” “Marshall Law,” “War, War, War,” “One Crashed over The Cuckoo’s Nest,” “Brain Transplant,” “Ohpmyn,” “3005 E. Euclid,” “Suicide Note,” “Another Love Song,” “Silent Death,” “In My Heart,” “Innocent Victim,” “Johnny,” and ” Slave to My Estrogen ,” A.S.F. and their song, “Slave to My Estrogen,” is featured in Flipside Video 11.

A.S.F. Interview Taken from Los Angeles Flipside Fanzine # 54 Ten Year Anniversary issue. (Replica) Paperback

A note….

MIA is a Flipside Records Band too! After the Fact (LP, 1987, Flipside Records) and Flipside Vinyl Fanzine Vol. 2 (1985) includes “Just A Dream” 😸

Originally out on Flipside Records….

In its highest sense.

“According to Jung, humanity holds a special role in creation: to contribute to the act of consciousness, and the point of view of morality, in its highest sense.”
~ Johnson, Robert A. Ecstasy (p. 64) Harper One. Kindle Edition.

OK…. it does take time…

The Avengers, the Dils and the Alley Cats.

Sunday May 26, 2019.

Before the show I went to an Italian Restaurant nearby. I sat at the bar and had a Guinness and a plate of pasta.

Part of my DNA

I will be the time to join with punk comrades and celebrate our originators and characters of the early California punk scene. The Avengers, the Dils and the Alley Cats.

In memory of Jimmy Wilsey

Once someone dies, their life becomes a story, infinite, Like a song forever more.

Back then it was a tight underground, alternative punk. rock scene. Bands were unclassified and their songs unique. I found myself melting into a wild alchemy of youths that. had something new to say.

We were finding our voice. All the unknown characters were there. Nobodies create a scene together. Seeing punk bands during the early Los Angeles punk scene, I was not always aware of all the members in the band. Instead, the feel of drums, bass and guitar grabbed me. into a wild joyful submission. After a few times seeing a band, the lyrics and the vocals brought depth and understanding to any band’s song.

I was shaking to the sounds. wanting to go to all the shows. After getting involved with Los Angeles Flipside Fanzine All the players in the bands became focused and clear. I listened to their voices. I got to know them on a personal level. I went from being a face in the crowd. to writing about punk bands and getting to know band members as friends.

The sound of the Avengers was my grounding or anchoring into that early punk? scene. Those first days I awoke……

It was fantastic! The Dils I learned about indirectly through another Flipside staff writers. The Alley Cats was the band, they were the heart of the early punk scene which I got to know the best at that time. Jimmy was a part of that scene.

I did not know him personally but indirectly, Yet his sound moved me often into states of wild frenzy. I am grateful for all the vinyl records that contain that. story, song, or sound of our youthful rebellion. Of Jimmy’s youthful rebellion.

Yet a “live” band is always best. It is great to still be here, currently, part of our punk rock. history. Thanks to Randy and Penelope for letting me speak today. to show my love and respect.

I stumbled into the early punk scene. The Australian Saints and the San Franciscan Avengers gave me the courage to go and see any other alternative underground bands on my own. I found myself melting into a wild alchemy of youths that had something to say. We were finding our voices. All the unknown characters were there, nobodies creating a scene together. We were wild and knew all the songs by heart by The Dils, The Alley Cats and the Avengers.

I will be there handing out some badges joining in the event in memory of our youthful rebellion that is still the heart beat of this crazy continuity of punk rock that still drives our DNA onward.

***Images from Los Angeles Flipside Fanzine***

The Avengers, The Dils and The Alley Cats + many special guests (A Celebration of the Life of Jimmy Wilsey) at Echoplex

https://www.facebook.com/events/623081094804740/

Got to sing along, scream along to this one…

Before The Avengers went on a DJ at the event played this song. The sound went on and I swear the earth moved as the song grabbed my spine… an earthquake…. it was a Saints’ Hallelujah “amber” moment.

RIP Chris Bailey and Algy Ward

Sting like a jelly-fish

Today while walking into Ralph’s super market I saw the familiar old lady under yellow plastic. She was holding a white tissue to her red nose. She sat in her wheelchair at a prime target getting her ‘a little sympathy’. She got mine. I went into the store and purchased a $1.95 Starbucks house coffee medium. I am still amazed that a ‘cup of joe’ costs so much now. I remember when it was 25 cents.

“I like watching Noir films,” I said to the barista. “It is a wonder in those films that a ‘cup of joe’ only coast five pennies. Twenty-five cents got you a cup of coffee, a ham sandwich and a piece of pie.”

The barista smiled at me as I took the coffee, put in some cream and sugar and then headed towards the old lady in a wheelchair.

“Here is a cup of coffee, you look cold.?!”

“I don’t drink coffee it is bad for you.”

“Really I thought it would warm you up. Coffee is not as bad for you as you may think.”

“I have never had any.” She looked down to her right at a dirty bag of oranges. “It is all right I had an orange…I am fine.”

I was a bit upset. I never thought that she would reject a cup of coffee on such a cold and rainy day.

“Lady sometimes beggars can’t be choosers?!”

I realized that I could not reason with the lady. She had her right to say no. So, I walked on remembering what an old myth taught me. All about a woman’s psyche.

As Persephone went on her journey, she was advised not to give anything to those needy people who asked for something along the way. It was important for her to hold on to her strength and parts of herself that were precious.

I guess I failed the test today.Then that sorrow thread pulled in me. I call it the thread of sorrow.

I think that our current society does not embrace their share of sorrow. That is why we have so many drug addicts and alcoholics. A social epidemic.

We all need to hold on to or embrace our threads of sorrow. It can pull hard. It can be an echo that mocks. It can sting like a jelly-fish. When we run from our share of sorrow, ignore it, or get lost in our addictions hating it, it only manifests in our world as a monster shadow. Creating hate, chaos and terrible politicians. That is why I love Jazz because it speaks to the human heart and soul. It embraces it’s share of sorrow.

On my mind when i woke up….

I know what I write here. It is the pun-rock curse. A fan, promoter band thing. As a fan it was my dream to meet the bands and the promoters. The intimacy and friendships that formed are endearing for me. There was a time and place about eight years ago that I brought two bands together. Rikk Agnew Band (cult of ‘58) and The Black Widows (carry a big stick). It was a time when the San Fernando Valley was beaming with a few hot spots or punk and alternative music hubs. My one promotion time right after a 10-year Flipside Fanzine flopped. My mom had just died and I had two boys that needed me at 8 and 16 and I was acting like the teenager… for a while. Eight years ago is fast growing time for two boys. Life is new and exciting. Eight years for a 52-year-old is slow and precious. I introduced A Pretty Mess and Rikk Agnew and Panic Movement to a good night of old-time buddies and new ones. I was trying to bring together many aspects of the scene at that time and place that I loved. I like small shady clubs and intimate encounters. It was a happy night of loud live music. I was delighted and still think about that night often. I see that the Rikk Agnew Band and The Black Widows will be playing at Cafe NELA coming up this month. Sweet. I guess seeing this event brought back a few fantastic memories. So much has changed but this is so surreal & feels good to my old punk rock bones.

https://www.facebook.com/events/2180430575536192/?notif_t=event_calendar_create&notif_id=1535937037942310

Pancakes… in the hot oil…

Trump’s lawyers are in the hot oil… they have ruined their bright

reputations !!

and have become pancakes with pesto… Testaroli.. with pesto and garlic… and lots of cheese…. eat them down Mr. Trump…. hahahahah poor Rudy and Emmet…

Flopside COmics.. Be More than an assholi !!!!

A punkytale

A punkytale as oral tradition as bards of old

Rockin’ in my rockin’ chair
Rockin’ in my rockin’ dreams
We all are elder punks now
The first of the punk rockers
A youthful explosion…

March 28, 2018

The Dream Last Night

The dream was long but what I remember is we had a big back yard. In the back yard were big beautiful old trees. So big that artists would come to visit so they could sit under the trees. They’d sit under the shade of the old trees and make art. They enjoyed the big trees.

Two people I knew came to visit us. Two old friends I knew in my rebellious youth when I had a punk fanzine. Band members I championed as we grew from youth to adulthood. First was Mike Palm.

He was sleeping under one of the trees. I saw him there. Next son said that another one came to the door. He went back to the big trees. He told son he knew me. Son let him in and he went to the trees. He had his painting art supplies and a sleeping bad rolled up behind him. I went back and saw that it was Mike Ness .

He smiled warmly at me. I felt all those friendship, close, intimate feelings come back to my heart. The feelings of loyalty and belonging to something bigger than ourselves. He was fine. So, I left him alone under one of the old trees. In the house I made him a sandwich. We always made sandwiches for our art guests.

Dreams like this hurt me. I still somehow feel connected to these punk charmers of my youth. They made a big impression on me. I still love them both so much. Though our lives are not intermingled as they once were. They are still beholding to me. They hold value in myself, my psyche. It is nice when they come to visit, even if only in my dreams.

I wonder if they ever find my face smiling up at them in their elder punk dreams. I hope so… somehow there is still a heartfelt remembrance and shared values from our youthful rebellious days. Long gone by days…which we will always share together.