January 24, 2010
He’s Still Watching
I remember when an average evening might consist of getting fucked up and making fun of the television. Laughing until my lungs hurt. This commercial aired around NYC in the mid-’80s. It resided on some dog-eared VHS tape containing Newmark & Lewis’s peculiar TV jingle that I used to view over and over, like a cocaine lab monkey. I copied it for friends (like Otto Mannix) who appreciated the truly absurd.
Often I’d also put the lavishly government-funded “Stop the Madness” celebrity anti-drug music video tardfest on the same cassette; good for hardcore belly laughs back when the shit was contemporary, let alone now. (Especially stoned… I seem to vaguely recall.)
Thirty seconds of “Dick Lewis is Watching” is so densely goofy and action-packed, it’s hard to know where to begin. From its odd conceptual framework (Dick Lewis as a voyeuristic yet benevolent Big Brother, making sure those prices stay low!), to the “street level” 1980s signifiers (rollerskates, cheesy “rock” guitar, boombox, racial tokenism), to its insane vision of an impossibly perky New York City where singing people have spontaneous orgasms about their favorite home electronics retailer, this ad had its manicured finger on the urban pulse of… Dick Lewis?! At least it did until a few years later when all Dick’s stores went bankrupt.
Here’s more great advice: If you want more NY/NJ broadcast ads from that strange era, there’s a nice, tidy selection over here.
SSM - “You’ll Be Glad You Did”
Rick at 11:58 pm
January 19, 2010
It’s All Right
Times Square, 1970. Photo by Nick DeWolf. (Wonderful archives here.)
Fear – “New York’s Alright If You Like Saxophones”
Rick at 9:37 pm
Scary House
“Aug. 25, 1968 – at Aunt Ruth’s
An original book titled “Scarey House” with words dictated to Mommy.”
“Ricky captures the mean dragon. He cuts it up and gives it to his Daddy. Now we will all be safe.
The witch does a magic trick and turns the boy into a frog.
The skeleton turns this little boy into a pile of bones.
The snake is going to curl around the little boy.
The bat is going to bite this little boy.
The ghost is going to turn him white.
The buzzard is going to sting him.
The giant eagle is going to make him fly.
The devil is going to butt him.
The swordman is going to cut him up with his sword.
The wild cat is going to bite him and swallow him.
And this ghost is going to turn him white.
This wildcat is going to bite him and swallow him, too.
And this ghost is going to turn him white, too.”
What a strange collection of phobias. Seems little Ricky’s getting harassed by animals, spirits and fictional archetypes at every turn. (...However, note that Ricky was able to deliver the corpse of a captured and vivisected dragon to his Pop, so there’s that. Dragons are such pussies when it comes right down to it.)
Naturally, we are forced to rely upon my mother’s translation of the story. I prefer to think that my original plot was a bit deeper than Mommy has indicated, more delicately expository and rich in psychological nuance.
Note the threatened violence (lots of cutting) and implications of abuse by and to imaginary creatures. This was 1968. If such artwork were seen at a “zero tolerance” public school in 2010, somebody would be getting a visit from Child Protective Services, or worse.
Amazingly, it appears that my biggest (constantly reiterated) fear was being turned white – a bizarre prediction which later did come true!
Dear Mom: Thanks. I sincerely appreciate all the artistic encouragement you gave me as a child… especially in view of the fact that I clearly couldn’t draw for shit! Look at that lousy draftmanship. Really, this kid is a lousy illustrator. No sense of perspective, proportion or the even most rudimentary composition. Hell, I didn’t even spell “scary” correctly.
The Buzzcocks – “Friends of Mine”
Rick at 1:53 am
January 17, 2010
Road Trip, Y’all!
Outrageous Cherry – “Pale, Frail, Lovely One”
Rick at 8:32 pm
January 16, 2010
No Regrets
Century-old cemetery, Sonora, CA, December 2009. Photo by Rick S. Hall.
The Walker Brothers – “No Regrets”
Rick at 5:56 pm
January 14, 2010
Warm Fuzzies
Toe Stubber has been selected for an award on the internet! The shocking news came courtesy of the lovely and talented Ivan Lerner 
over at The United Provinces of Ivanlandia. Maybe I’m paranoid. It’s gotta be Ivan poking fun at me. After all, the Toe Stubber has been positively obnoxious in his loud disdain for awards and award ceremonies. Ivan himself has been on the receiving end of many long, frothing rants about the uselessness of various Halls of Fame and celebrity suckfests, to the extent that he’s had to wipe flecks of my spittle and bile off of his mad scientist spectacle lenses. And now I’m expected to just calmly and graciously accept an award? One with pink roses on it? Must be a test of my faith in meritocracy.
Well. Okay.
This transparent sham comes at a convenient time, anyway, since I have extra time on my hands. Enough to slavishly roll onto my back for a virtual tummy rub. And enough to fulfill the requirements of the One Lovely Blog Rules Committee (also known as the Council of Nine), which is to pass the “award” along to 15 deserving blogs which as far as I know have not yet received it. Yes, that’s right – this is one huge, exponentially-growing pyramid scam that can end only after every blog on the Web has got the same award… or, the people at the top start receiving kickbacks, Herbalife™ style. I really hope it’s the latter.
Some of these folks are my friends; some have not updated in a while. All these sites are worth the most sparkly, blinky, kitchy animated gif that a person can bestow:
This list purposely left out strict music/mp3 blogs (sorry, Killed By Death Records) or political blogs (else The Agitator would surely be gettin’ some too). Tried to stick to humor and/or general movie/art/sleazy interest blogs. Now it’s time for our Lovely new winners to pass on the confusing good vibes to their own 15 favorite nominees – the sooner for me to start raking in that cash!
If you are looking for more good time websites, we have finally cleaned up the sidebar at the right, where you can enjoy perma-links that actually work for a change.
Sonic’s Rendezvous Band – “Electrophonic Tonic”
Rick at 1:19 am
January 1, 2010
No Time Like the First Time
In my mind, there are a handful of the moribund hits of the 1970s that, because of situational associations, give me the creeps.
One of them is Roberta Flack’s “Killing Me Softly With His Song,” the title track from her fifth LP. I was probably eleven years old, reading a House of Mystery comic book story about a guy who gets shipwrecked on an island populated with an intelligent colony of ants that spell out “EAT US” while he’s delirious from starvation, spurring his mutation into a helpless half-man half-insect. As my skin crawled at the big reveal in the final panel, the clear, otherworldly, deliberate voice of Roberta Flack was flowing brightly from the next room. It was cold and irresistible. That song gave me nightmare flashbacks for years. It’s okay now, of course; in fact, I frequently like riding the time machine and replaying those forgotten shudders.
Instead of that, let’s hear “The First Time Ever I Saw Your Face” from Roberta’s exquisite First Take debut LP.
If you ask me, this song was the blueprint for Angelo Badalamenti for his synth-weirded “Mysteries of Love” in the movie Blue Velvet, sung by Julee Cruise and a military-grade reverb generator. This fact is at least as obvious to me as the classic “My Sweet Lord” kerfluffle. But one can’t blame the guy. Both are beautiful in their own way. Listen and see.
Roberta Flack – “The First Time Ever I Saw Your Face”
Angelo Badalamenti – “Mysteries of Love”
Rick at 6:43 pm
November 19, 2008
You, Robot
I have watched this piece of video so many times, it seemed appropriate to post it on the off-chance you haven’t seen it yet. This huge, prancing mule/spider robot hybrid sends chills down my spine. What’s amazing is its naturalistic animal “sense” of balance which is illustrated well by making it climb over piles of rubble, snow and ice, and by the researcher who kicks the robot in its robot ribcage and then watches it right itself. Imagine walking through the woods and seeing this massive buzzing monstrosity striding toward you. Mom was right. These are the End Times!
Clearly we’ve come a long way since the ED-209 enforcement droid. One day soon, I expect that this site will be written in its entirety by the Boston Dynamics Big Dog or one of his mechanized cohorts. Kudos to the humans who are making this happen.
VOM - “Too Animalistic”
Rick at 2:35 am
October 19, 2008
Hacienda
Here is a band named Hacienda; this rock-steady rocker is from their Loud Is the Night CD on Alive/Total Energy Records. Check out the amazing bass work and the cute latinas.
It looks like these guys might be blowin’ up. We can only hope.
Hacienda – “She’s Got a Hold on Me”
Rick at 6:52 pm
September 22, 2008
I Got Mad Cankles: The Art of Melissa & Trish, continued
The artistic vision of Trish & Melissa has been transformative, not only within their immediate environment, but in the minds and attitudes of coworkers and among their more politically-minded peers. Sadly, their work has gone unrecognized in the broader gallery world, the art scene’s leading magazines and curators having chosen to ignore two of the 21st Century’s most promising new conceptual artists in favor of trendy musical groups and performance art.
In our opinion, the institutionalized exclusion of these two cultural wunderkinds from the hallowed grounds of elite critical discussion is no less than a crime against art.
“Is it humanly possible to feel completely sick to the stomach when your [sic] around someone?
yes-√ no-☐
Glad you agree with me! Now I need you to please go home and take a shower to wash off the smell of camel and corn. Please.”
...
“I would normally say you aren’t worthy enough to fuck a human but I seriously can’t let myself as a P.E.T.A. member to [sic] allow you to fornicate with animals either. It’s complete animal cruelty! Please do the world a favor and shoot yourself in the face.”
“Dear fuckface: I wanted to again let you know my deep and concerned appreciation for you working here.
*clears throat* You working here has turned my delicate life into a everlasting nightmare surrounded by little demons tearing at my flesh… Every moment with you makes me beg for mercy from god to take my life. So thank you!... you heatheness banshee for making my days twice as long and making all my fears come to life. Without you I might just be happy! ♡ Melissa”
When, finally, the future scholars of aesthetic history locate these works and endeavor to illuminate the profound oeuvre of Trish and Melissa, these works will undoubtedly end up sold for thousands of hundreds of Euros at auction.
Until then, please remember to be courteous to girls who work in filing rooms.
Rick at 9:44 pm
September 20, 2008
Magoo
Magoo is a female possum who likes to eat a snack. She really does!
Rick at 2:15 pm
This is an online diary of awe-inspiring music I've stumbled across. Songs are posted in the hope that others will get turned on to uncommonly great or neglected music, go out and buy the original work if possible, and thereby realize how amazingly cool I am by proxy. Please leave comments to that effect. I will also be putting up strange ephemera and scraps from my vast collection of art and "art." Any song files may be removed from the site after 14 days. Get 'em before then. It's better if you "Save As"/download files to your own drive rather than playing them in your browser. Do not link directly to MP3s; that will just piss me off. ===================== ILLEGAL DISCLAIMER: It is not the intention of the Toe Stubber to violate any legitimate copyrights, get sued, argue with lawyers, or go to jail. If you are the artist of, or the copyright holder for, any musical or artistic work posted here, and wish to have it removed, please contact the Toe Stubber at the following email address: toestubber (at) gmail.com (...insert the "@" symbol in the appropriate place). The Toe Stubber will be happy to de-post such material with haste, even if he secretly thinks you're being a baby about it.
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