RAVEN MACK is a mystic poet-philosopher-artist of the Greater Appalachian unorthodox tradition who publishes zines & physical books & electronic books & music & photography & digital art & just generally whatever feels necessary to survive this deluded earth thru Rojonekku Word Fighting Arts survival systems (Version 69, establish 14 Feb 1973). Comments encouraged.

Thursday, July 28

Last 5 Vinyls On My Turntable

(most recent first, meaning now; all 7-inch delights tonight)
Pink Floyd - Money/Any Colour You Like
The M-80s - Seeing Things/Split/Bad Women
Waylon & Willie - Mammas Don't Let Your Babies Grow Up To Be Cowboys/I Can Get Off On You
Al Green - Her I Am (Come And Take Me)/I'm Glad You're Mine
Fats Domino - Whiskey Heaven/The Texas Opera Company - Beers To You
I heard Pink Floyd did a one-time reunion show for poor African kids. I wonder if they tried to find Syd Barrett? I wonder if Syd still thinks he's a glass of tomato juice and only his mom cares enough to not spill him?
I wonder if Eddie Pearce is dead yet?
Man, that "I Can Get Off On You" song is fuckin' awesome. Makes the other more popular side look like a Keith Urban/Garth Brooks duet. Which it probably will be soon enough.
Al Green allowing himself (especially his loins) be controlled by the Fallen Angel equals good shit. Fats Domino being influenced by hillbilly music equals good shit. Snuff Garrett thinking he could do country opera equals some of the worst shit ever.
The one I'm most likely to listen to again fastest would be the Waylon & Willie single, B-side. Easily. If my wife wasn't on her moon cycle, maybe the Al Green. I don't know if I've ever actually had sex while Al Green played. I remember one time I slept at this girl's house and we didn't do anything more than hug and kiss and she showed me the shotgun she kept under her bed, and I woke up on a Sunday morning and she was downstairs playing Al Green and cooking potatoes and eggs with her hot-ass crewcut grown punk intellectual self. I loved her as much as a man could love a woman, for a couple of days at least.

Monday, July 18

Death Valley Driver Video Review #148 Hype


DVDVR #148
Hey, we actually kept it going bi-weekly so far. There's some shit about Shinya Hashimoto, and some shit about Ox Baker - perhaps the biggest cuddliest bear you'll ever see. Plus a bunch of other wrestling nerd stuff.

Thursday, July 14

Last 5 Vinyls On My Turntable

(most recent first, meaning now)
Zodiac Mindwarp & The Love Reaction - Tattooed Beat Messiah
Iron Maiden - The Number of the Beast
S.O.D.: Stormtroopers of Death - Speak English or Die
Kreator - Extreme Aggression
W.A.S.P. - W.A.S.P.
Obviously, I'm in a semi-metal mood. I had a "more things change..." moment with the Maiden, as "Children of the Damned" came on and I cut the volume up a touch, because I figured I wouldn't wake my two kids upstairs with a little more loudness. It gave me deja vu of being 13, doing the same exact thing with a shitty boombox and cassette copy, at 1 in the morning, thinking I wouldn't wake up my folks across the hallway. The one I'm most likely to listen to again the fastest would probably be W.A.S.P.

Monday, July 11

LOUNGE PLAYER: If An Angel Came To See You, Would You Make Her Feel At Home?


This is easily, without a doubt, my most played LP of the last couple years. It has all the pure southern longhaired country boy rock-n-roll of Lynyrd Skynyrd, but with a slight toss-in of weird redneck hippie nonsense, plus Jim Dandy is about the most rock star motherfucker to ever have lived that most people don't even remember. He was David Lee Roth before David Lee Roth was. "Gravel Roads" would be my theme song were I a wrestler, and "Fertile Woman" may be just about the greatest weirdo dirtbag jobless rural stoner ode to having sex with a woman that ever existed. "Water is the blood of God, fire is his brain," so sayeth Jim Dandy in "Our Mind's Eye". Motherfuck yeah. I wish Dandy took over the Manson Family cult when Charlie got put in jail, then Ouish would be drawing album covers to this day, and maybe we'd have more of Bobby Beausoleil's jailhouse music for public consumption.

Saturday, July 9

Carbon 14 #26 Hype


Carbon 14 website
I just got the newest issue of Carbon 14 in the PO Box today, and it's probably my favorite issue I've seen since I've been a contributor. There's a little bit less of the creepy "I like to masturbate to old crime fiction magazines" type art, and more good goofy shit that doesn't freak me out. There's interviews with both Blowfly and Terry Funk, as well as Sky Saxon (quite a trio there), plus I read more columns in this issue that I've enjoyed than in most. Rev. Axl Future's got a nice thing on the overall experience of a wrestling card, which is nice to read as I've been missing getting his Wrestling Eats Its Young mailings in my PO Box (Rev. - if you're out here somewhere in the evil, get back to me on that thing I sent you, one way or the other), and it's always nice to see someone think the same perfect thoughts I do, but say it with a far more expanded vocabulary and sense of magical scientifics. And actually, I don't mind the column I contributed to this issue either, even though I slapped together after going to a funeral back home.
Apparently, Carbon 14 has some new distributors, so you might even be able to find this shit in fancy bookstores with coffee baristas and escalators and crap like that. I think, given the choice of this issue of Carbon 14, and a soy milk cafe latte mocha with a blueberry muffin, your six dollars would be better spent on Carbon 14. Hopefully the CD won't be stolen out the middle.

Death Valley Driver Video Review #147 Hype


DVDVR #147
It has been promised that we will start doing DVDVR online thingies every other week from now until we don't deliver every other week. Right now it has motivated me to start digging back into the wrestling. It's a decent enough issue, with my man Ryan Muldoon joining the crew, which makes me not the newest guy anymore. All I contributed was some wack-ass haikus about developmental territories in the month of May 2001, and mailed in a piece late night one evening about some SMW I found behind a stack of records. It's sort of full circle with Ryan, because he used to be a contributing writer for Punchline weekly magazine in Richmond when they were my arch-nemesis in the middle issues of The Confederate Mack. Now, he's my partner in being a fuckin' nerd watching wrestling and acting like somebody gives a shit what we think.