Persevering Through


Relentless Absurdity
 

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RIPOSTE
     
by RIP RENSE

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Apr. 24, 2017

Don't you let that deal go down. . .

          I signed a publishing deal for my new mystery, "The Death Sisters," with a well known and established publisher in New York. A signed contract, accepted and formalized.
          I also canceled the deal and decided to self-publish.
          Follow me, if you will, down this particular rabbit hole. . .
          There is a reactionary term going around,“cultural appropriation.” This is an invention hatched largely in the “safe spaces” of academia that holds that non-minorities may not write about minorities. Really. I kid not. The purveyors of this concept (if that is not too lofty a word for it) have exaggerated ethnocentrism and politically correct rearrangement to the point where they suggest, no, command, that one must be of a particular culture. . .in order to write about that culture.
          (Paging Steinbeck, Hemingway, Pearl S. Buck, Lafcadio Hearn. . .)
          Translation: if you are of European descent and your skin is generally a shade of beige, you are not allowed to write about characters of any other ethnic background or epidermic tint. This idea is taken seriously, and is widely advocated by people claiming intelligence and liberalism. It is a certifiable controversy in publishing.
          Which brings us to the fact that some characters in my book are of Japanese descent, and/or Japanese-American culture. Some of the themes of the story are, as well. I am not. After I was offered a publishing deal (by e-mail), I was invited to phone the (Caucasian) publisher for the how-do-you-do. The very first question he asked was:
          “Are you Japanese?”
          I was taken aback. What did this matter? (Never mind that the accurate question would have been, "Are you Japanese-American?") I just managed to respond with a simple “no.” The publisher then asked:
         “Well, can you look Japanese for the back cover photo?”
          Again, I kid you not. This really, actually, truly, genuinely, mind-bogglingly is what he said.
         I was repulsed, confused, disgusted. What did he want, thick glasses and Hirohito teeth? I mean, huh? I was disgusted, as I said, but as I also wanted to be published, I elected to treat it as a (vile) joke, and responded, “Oh, yeah, sure.” He then suggested that I “wear a funny hat or something.” I had absolutely no idea what he was talking about, how serious he was, how much crack he had smoked. 


                                 order

        Of course, I should have taken all this as a bad sign, and backed out immediately. Instead, I proceeded, lured by the prospect of being “officially” published. Who knows, I thought, maybe he had incipient senility (he was a bit older than me.) After I signed the contract,  it became clear in dribs and drabs from the publisher and the co-publisher that they intended to make radical changes in the manuscript that amounted to de-emphasizing the Japanese and Japanese-American aspects of the book. This would be like, oh, de-emphasizing the Chinese aspect of “The Joy Luck Club.”
          Again: huh?
          I was just shocked. I politely attempted to persuade that there was no need to make such changes, and that they would, in fact, undermine the effect of the book. (Duh.)  The publisher said he was very surprised at my response, adding that most authors “welcome editing.” (Oh, God, that old ruse---make the writer the "bad guy.") I explained that I was happy to be edited, happy to have my work improved, but that de-emphasizing the main themes and defining aspects of the book did not amount to “editing,” but rather enormous, unnecessary revision.
          Still seeking a way to (politely) resolve the matter, I took it upon myself to rewrite a particular chapter which the publishers deemed too long, and too heavy on Japanese cultural references. I made it shorter and gave it a harder edge, but given that it takes place at a Japanese-American Buddhist festival, no, I did not de-emphasize the Japanese aspect. The publisher’s response? I had “only” shortened it by a few pages. It was clear that neither publisher nor co-publisher had even bothered to read it. And then came the coup de grace, if one was needed:
         Co-publisher, the one who would do the bulk of the editing, informed that I had to tone down the fact that the main character, a half-Japanese American, half-Caucasian detective named Ed Funderburke, is a casual Buddhist. And that the same applied to the chapter that takes place at the Japanese-American Buddhist festival. Why? "People might get the wrong idea," she said, or words close to that. It took me about an hour to realize that she meant that readers would think that I was trying to. . .convert them to Buddhism! (I don't like exclamation points much, but am making a warranted exception here.)
          I mean, hell, better rewrite all of Faye Kellerman's books (about a detective who incorporates Jewish themes in his work) to tone down that pesky Judaism. Gadzooks.

The other possibility is that they thought they might come under fire for, yes, “cultural appropriation”---theft of culture by an evil white person---which could hurt sales.

          This all transpired over several unpleasant weeks. In the end, I realized that there was no hope, and that the publishers had no intention whatsoever of remotely considering my point of view. (You can imagine the stress of having signed your work away to people who were legally entitled to ruin it.) In the end, the guy who had asked me to "look Japanese" pulled the ultimate power play, offering me a chance to cancel the deal. I’m sure he was shocked that I would take him up on that offer, but take him up, I promptly and gladly did. I returned my advance, and we nullified the contract.
         I haven't been so relieved since my bowels began moving two days after kidney stone surgery. 
          My wild guess is that there were two possible motives on the publishers' part. First, perhaps they thought that the target audience was mostly beige-colored European-Americans, more commonly known as “white folk,” and feared that a book with some Japanese themes and Japanese-American characters (set in L.A., with lots of white folks, brown folks, black folks) would not sell with such an audience. Of course, such thinking is racist, reductive, and yet another example of decisions crippled by demographic thinking---epidemic in this society. What, Caucasians didn’t read “Memoirs of a Geisha?” (written by one Arthur Golden, not incidentally.)
          The other possibility is that they thought they might come under fire for, yes, “cultural appropriation”---theft of culture by an evil white person---which could hurt sales. Need I say that I find either scenario odious? Whatever happened to deciding to publish a book because it’s. . .good? Isn’t that what they had done initially, before finding out that I am not of Japanese descent? Hmm. . .
          After this debacle, I sent sample chapters to the few other publishers who were even deigning to accept manuscripts. One was so imperious and downright nasty that I refused to send the full book to her when requested to do so. Others took the "it's not right for us" way out. Again, I suspect the “ethnic” factor made them hesitant. (Agents didn't even bother to write back.) Were they afraid of a “niche market?” I thought all publishing has become “niche marketing.” And I practically browbeat a very kind woman publisher in L.A. (who was appalled by the New York jokers) into reading the manuscript, and while she allowed that it was a great, suspenseful read with captivating characters---and captures contemporary L.A.---"debut fiction is just too hard."

I mean, hell, better rewrite all of Faye Kellerman's books (about a detective who incorporates Jewish themes in his work) to tone down that Judaism.

         "Debut fiction." Hadn't heard that one before. A novel novel rejection! I guess my two previous novels and two previous short story collections don't count because they are self-published. I guess the fact that I've been writing professionally since age 20, have written for just about every newspaper in the country (and a lot of magazines---you remember magazines), and have won four L.A. Press Club Awards for on-line writing, and that my name is somewhat recognizable. . .doesn't count. You can't be published because you haven't been published. And here I thought people had grasped Joseph Heller. Still, I'm sure the L.A. publisher was right. If you're not a proven commodity in an insanely competitive market, why take on the additional burden of promoting an "unknown?"
          Here is a little denouement. The New York publisher, ever seeking to put a (fake) civil face on things, had invited me to resubmit the manuscript if I was unable to find another publisher. I did not do this, but I did contact him again a couple months later. I sent a copy of one of the very good Naomi Hirahara “Mas Arai” detective novels to him. Why? They had objected to the many Japanese terms in my book (as well as the Chicano slang, "vato"), and the small glossary at the end. I wished to show them that there were published books just loaded with Japanese terms (not to mention books with French terms, Latin terms, German terms, etc.) Publisher wrote back that this made no difference because he didn't like it, end story. He added that it was my “my way or the highway” attitude that “caused me to say ‘Sayonara’ to you.” Yes, direct quote. He really said this. The guy just couldn't shake his impulse toward racist cracks, not to mention having turned the events around 180 degrees. (It was "his way or the highway," not mine.)
          Snide? Check. Lame? Check. A lie? Check. Racist? In my opinion, check.
          And you wonder why people self-publish.
          Oh, by the why, I expect you have been wondering why this book somewhat concerns Japanese and Japanese-American themes. (It's actually a hodgepodge of L.A. people and places.) Well, why did Mark Twain write about African-Americans, and Steinbeck about Mexicans? Why did Kazou Ishiguro write "Remains of the Day," the heartbreaking story of British servants? Why did Ruth Prawer Jhabvala adapt it?
          In my case, I have known a great many people of Japanese and Japanese-American background, and I grew up around this and many other cultures, including African-American, Jewish, Chinese and Chinese-American, Mexican and Mexican-American, etc. How can you grow up and live in Los Angeles without being exposed to all these cultures, and more? As far as I’ve always been concerned, my lifelong culture has been the ethnic mish-mosh that is Los Angeles. In other words, these cultures are part of my culture. On top of this, I have great affection for Japanese-American culture, and took it as a challenge to write convincingly with this as a partial backdrop.
          In closing, I would like to take this opportunity to figuratively thumb my nose (with accompanying raspberry) at my would-be publisher, and all those who believe in “cultural appropriation." If that isn't too white of me.

(printer-friendly version)  

RIPOSTE EXTRA!
WHERE IS THIRD BEATLES REUNION SONG? here

         

Read "Who's a Whore?" a fun little verse for all sellouts to, I mean investors in. . .China!
here

               E-MAIL: 

RIPOSTE column is published when the author is motivated, which has become quite an infrequent occurence.

We get e-mail! Here's our all-time favorite:

I think if humanity upsets you so much go live in alaska, or somewere
where you don't have to put up with the people who make your life
tolerable to say the least.

Paul Manners


Dear Paul,

I can now add you to that list! FYI: "alaska" is capitalized. "Somewere" is spelled "Somewhere." And you meant "intolerable," not "tolerable."

Rip Rense

THIS CAN'T BE HAPPENING?
 IT IS.

READ DAVE LINDORFF


"There is no more truthful, well-researched, important commentary, even if you don't agree with it."---Rip Rense
 

If You Don't Read L.A.Observed.com,
You don't know what's going on in L.A.
civilized news about the news


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Once upon a time, in a Los Angeles far far away, there were. . .newspaper wars. There were five---count 'em, five---papers in town, and as many as 12 editions per day for each one. Rob Leicester Wagner, grandson of original Daily News reporter Les Wagner, is the only writer ever to put the history into a book. This was an uncrowded, freeway-less time of paste-pots, cigars, Red Cars, and just a touch of alcohol. Red Ink, White Lies.
ORDER IT HERE

ClownA Verse to You:
Starring Rip Post resident laureates:
 the late great Scott Wannberg (Salud!), Jack Oakes, Charles Bogle, Raj Bavnani, even Rense himself.

Enjoy samples below, and. . .
visit the poetry archive

VAGINA HOTEL
I walked into the Vagina Hotel
just because of the name
Tell me, I said, why is this hotel named for a vagina
and the proprietress
who claimed to be a poetess
said, why, does that threaten you
No, I said, I've never been threatened by a vagina
but then, I've never met one that could talk, either,
so I can't be sure
Misogynist loser, she said, so I moved on
Feeling hungry, I stopped at Vagina Burger for lunch
Tell me, I said, to the waitress,
Why is this place called Vagina Burger I mean
that's not very picturesque
Oh, she said, are you threatened by the word, vagina?
No, although I admit I find it a rather ugly sounding word
I mean, couldn't they have called it a morning glory or a midnight moon or something
She snorted and walked away, mumbling "asshole"
So I left and went to Starbucks where a woman on a laptop
had a bunch of books next to her called My Vagina, Your Vagina, Our Vagina, The Cat in the Vagina, Of Mice and Vaginas, Huckleberry Vagina, and The Vaginas of Wrath
Oh, and that one by Naomi Wolf called Vagina: a Biography
What are you staring at, snapped the laptop woman
Oh, sorry, I said, I couldn't help but notice your books
Do they threaten you, she said
No, books don't threaten me, I rather like them
Then why are you staring
Oh, well, I've never seen so many books about vaginas, and naturally
it piqued my curiosity
Are you threatened by vaginas, she said
No, I'm threatened by aggression, mostly, at least to some extent
But I do wonder how a vagina could have a biography
Does that threaten you, she said
Well, let me think about that, seeing as this question keeps coming up
Stupidity and arrogance threaten me, and hostile, defensive people threaten me, and guys with lots of neck tattoos of bloody knives and Jesus threaten me, but a biography of a vagina, no
that's too ridiculous to be threatening
Laptop woman's eyes got as big as ignorance and she said
What do you mean, ridiculous!
Oh, well, it's like this: the idea that retreating into a frame of mind where one's sex organ is exalted, where one's very self-worth is focused on one's sex organ, where an obsession with one's sex organ is conflated with philosophy, and in the case of the vagina, is somehow construed as "feminism" and "empowerment," well
this strikes me as asinine and puerile
and a mite indelicate
Laptop woman's eyes got as big as vaginas and she hissed get away from me you fucking pervert or I'll call security
I momentarily wondered what security's phone number might be, and happiness's, goodness's, and joy's
Then I moved on because I felt threatened
---
Charles Bogle

 

Il perche non so
mi chiamano mimi
il perche non so
my name is this
I don’t know why
things pump into
neurons
sensory flesh
groceries into bag
dogs play in yard
bestial shouts from windows
supernova roses expand
petals to Betelgeuse
super apes trail offspring
hungry
no cookie
love pondered
gland obeyed
sun nuclear fire
moon barren
little mites feast
littler mites
amoral
pernicious
chanters hum
terrified pray
wail impotent trill
murders of joy
painter wipes fix
moment gone and beauty
crack and fade
universe and skin
blue eyes and harlequin
il perche non so
---Charles Bogle

Raj Bavnani Reads!
Heard it once? Hear it twice!
Listen to Raj Bavnani's
 end-of-year poem, as read on KPFK-FM.

 

Listen at:
 
http://rense.gsradio.net:8080/rense/special/Raj_Bavnani.mp3
Raj read this epic poem for 2010 Jan. 3 on "The Music Never Stops," with Barry Smolin, on KPFK.
 
slums of gold
the slums of gold
are having open houses for all the affable c.e.o.'s and financial wizards who have taken their bailout money to build shiny brand new executive bathrooms and finance relaxing weekend retreats far from the noise and fear of the street.the slums of gold have king size beds that will make the most tired and achy executive feel so human and tender.
special guarded elevators will take these new stylish tenants to the penthouse,but wait a second, sometimes the penthouse has no roof and the vultures soar overhead awaiting their next happy meal.
the slums of gold find themselves eventually under a fierce rain which washes that fake gold off revealing corroded iron and brokedown wood.
it's a new year
homicide will soon reach its deductible
and its bills will reduce greatly.
the slums of gold are having a block party.
bring all your favorite yes men and women,executives.
bring your bylaws and meeting minutes.
you'll have to budget the air
inhale just so much oxygen.
the banks glow in the dark.
they begin to pull up stakes
and slither across the earth
looking for food.
meanwhile,all humans with no health care whatsoever become kings and queens for one day.
they are asked to pose for high profile pictures.
as soon as you're through coughing up blood could you smile and say cheese.
the c.e.o.s have blood in their underwear.
should they panic?
should they take a happy pill?
all the happy pills forgot their distemper shots.
they are not agreeable this morning.
when you go to open them up to ingest one they bite your fingers.
---Scott Wannberg, 1/24/09

i didn't see all that much but boy do my eyes hurt
in the hallowed building
that forgets where it lives
i saw a way of life
try to shove itself into a tube of toothpaste
the teeth of the world
chatter
when love runs naked
through the battle
that dances up and down
the road out of town.

periodically the reaper fellow
comes through selling subscriptions
but frankly his pitch needs grease
and the navy can't tread the water
you shower in.

i didn't see all that much
honest
but boy do my eyes hurt
every time you ask me to leap off the ledge
i remind you i still haven't earned anything
resembling a wing

tell the rage
to act its age and smile
once every now and then
anything it can throw at me
i've already fielded
in a time
when popcorn fell from the sky
and wounds grew gardens.

going home time
finally slipped through the wire,
treat it gentle,
pass the veneer
ache no more
for at least a minute, anyhow
heard a rumor
we were being pulled back
to a rhythm
that wouldn't break us.

killers will eventually get monuments erected in their honor.
and the pigeons will rejoice
through impending snarling weather
asleep on the side of the road
you will find civilization
rolling dice in pitch black night
one more round for the survivors
wherever they crawled off to

the highway refuses to comp you
pay as you attempt
anything
meteors aim their best profiles
at our hacienda
raise your vulnerable face
to their fire
tell them the story
you never finished
the one about the woodsmoke
the shiny people
and when its time
to wander upstairs
to a room that goes on for hours
place your heart on mine
make some music
they claim vaudeville is coming back
together
we'll bring down
the leaking
roof
---scott
florence,oregon
10/27/09
tom russell
blood and candle smoke

 

Going to Townes
The latest failure
turned the curve
You're travelin'
with the herd.

The calamity
called humanity,
claims unfounded
rejected, rebounded.

Snapshots, scattered,
the last thing,
failed to compose
a photographic
memory,
why don't you
recall it?

You'd prefer
to let it fade
to sepia like
rotogravure
eidetic reveries.

Going to town
world-renown
clown obit
proclaims
legends
offered,
chiseled
visages
proffered

Old man of
the mountains
Fountains
of youth
eluded

Cantankerousity
has replaced
curiosity
Verbosity has
replaced
perspicaciousness.

No lines left to
rehearse, no
time to slam
into reverse.

Call it a day
Ave, universe!
I've seen my day
no more struggle
for one last verse

I'm checking out
without a doubt
Will survey landscape
one last time, not a
pleasure trip, not even hip.
Down with the ship
Chilly winds blow
Closing the show,
last one tonight.
---Jack Oakes

A Verse to You Archive


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cover by David Allen
Twelve Brilliant New Stories by RR.
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the greatest grateful dead album
 the grateful dead never made.


 
PERSUASIONS OF THE DEAD
20 TRACKS. 2 CDs. 12 GUEST ARTISTS.
The Persuasions, Brooklyn-grown street singers who became the most important and powerful a cappella group in American history, interpret the songs of Robert Hunter and Jerry Garcia of the Grateful Dead. Songs that still are among the most original and engaging in American music.
Sheer poetry, meet sheer melody.


"enchanting!"
---grateful dead lyricist
 robert hunter.

produced by Rip Rense
 mixed by Marc Doten

cover illustration by Luis Genaro Garcia

SPECIAL GUESTS ARTISTS: Country Joe McDonald, Mark Karan (Ratdog), Jackie LaBranch and Gloria Jones (Jerry Garcia Band), Grateful Dead keyboardist Vince Welnick, Dongming Qiao, James King, Alyn Kelley, Eric Thompson, Peter Rowan,  Pete Grant, Mary Schmary.

"Deadheads, take a hit from this double disc dose of the real thing. Persuasions fans, this may be the last time you'll ever hear a Persuasions line-up with original lead, and once-in-a-lifetime talent, Jerry Lawson. . .These tracks are stories that happen to have been set to song, not songs that happen to have a story."
---Jonathan Minkoff, Recorded A Cappella Review Board.

"Album producer Rip Rense calls the marriage of these two acclaimed artists "a surprisingly natural fit." He couldn't be more right. It works because these tracks are more than just covers; they're tributes. Each arrangement is designed to draw something new out of the original. Many of them include actual instruments, such as piano, guitar, and baritone saxophone."
---Nicole Maria Milano, Recorded A Cappella Review Board.

 ZOHO ROOTS
 AND RENSART PRODUCTIONS

LISTEN TO SAMPLES AND ORDER
 

THE PERSUASIONS
LIVE AT McCABE'S GUITAR SHOP!


The Greatest A Cappella Group in American History
in its only LIVE NIGHTCLUB ALBUM.

Everyone knows, or should know, that as great as Persuasions studio albums were, you did not experience The Persuasions unless you saw them live. Rip Rense set about capturing this vocal lightning in a bottle at McCabe’s Guitar Shop in 1999. Yes, it’s just like being there.

NINETEEN SONGS.
70 MINUTES OF MUSIC AND JOY.
5 SONGS NEVER ON A PERSUASIONS ALBUM.

PRODUCED BY RIP RENSE AND MARC DOTEN
FOR RENSART RECORDS.


"The Persuasions have come to save your soul. America is safe again."
---The Bluegrass Special


"Live at McCabe's is a great find, a reminder of this act at its best."---Soultracks.com

"You need to buy this album!"
---
Contemporary A Cappella Society

"We came out smokin'!"
---Jerry Lawson.


 listen to samples
 and order

NOW ON iTunes!

"Their signature album."---Floyd Kucharski.

 

the rip post's exclusive
TRIBUTE TO THE ORIGINAL
L.A. DAILY NEWS!


"the only Democratic newspaper
 west of the Rockies."


INTERVIEWS!
 WITH THE ORIGINAL "NEWSIES!"
RARE PHOTOS!

MEMORIES OF L.A.'S ALL-BUT-FORGOTTEN MOST BELOVED NEWSPAPER.

THE OAKS
A NOVEL
BY RIP RENSE

"Staggeringly well written. . .sweet. . .funny. . .sad. . .elegaic. . .not a thought nor sentence out of place."
---Keith Snider, San Francisco.

review: ''EDGAR SAWTELLE' VS.
 'THE OAKS,'

 by Barbara Weeks here.

review:Susan Christian Goulding's
Daily Breeze column on "The Oaks" here
.


FLASH! MAN CHAINS SELF TO OAK TREE, READS 'THE OAKS' AGAIN AND AGAIN! here


TO ORDER

"I stayed up to finish the last 100 pages.”
---Dave Allen, Thousand Oaks.

""This book deserves to be read by hundreds of thousands of people It is a gem that talks to a diverse group of people: those who grew up in dysfunctional families(!); Southern Californians who will love the suburban anecdotes; teens and everybody who has ever been a teen with all the awkwardness those years impart. It's also quite funny. Readers simultaneously laugh while groaning over these horribly insensitive 'adults' raising Charlie, who is much more adult than they are."
---Susan Christian Goulding,
columnist for the Daily Breeze,
 People Mag. Correspondent.

 REVIEWS, SUMMARY,
 SAMPLE CHAPTER


Rense interviewed about "The Oaks"
in Ventura Star
here.


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RENSE ON THE BEATLES!
exclusive!
JOHN LENNON PLANNED TO REUNITE THE BEATLES

PLUS!
SAY YOU WANT A (new) REVOLUTION?


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LESS THAN SATISFYING ENCOUNTERS WITH HUMANITY---ILLUSTRATED.
THE DECLINE OF WESTERN CIVILIZATION. . .
Measured by its attitude.



"The greatest book I've ever read---in the bathroom."---Mike Ball, Glendale, CA.

"You have more 'less than satisfying encounters' than any three other people I know.  I've given this some thought and my conclusion is that it is your unhappy fate to be something of a "schmuck magnet." Unpleasant-incompetent-self-aggrandising people enter your close orbit with greater frequency
 than the rest of us."
---Bob Ballenger, Encino, CA.

230 pages of LTSEWH's.
 
WITH ORIGINAL ARTWORK

ORDER HERE
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LINGO CZAR

THE DECLINE OF WESTERN CIVILIZATION---
Measured by its language.


The long-running column (L.A. Times, The Rip Post) is now 210 acid-dripping pages exposing rigidly conformist slang, pin-headed outbursts, 'cool' patois, abominable cliches, infantile drivel, smug rejoinders, mandatory peer-enforced buzzwords and iPhone-speak that Americans are spewing from their 500-word vocabularies as their knuckles hang ever closer to the sidewalk.


ORDER HERE

HERE IT IS: THE MOST IMPORTANT SPEECH MADE BY ANYONE IN THE LAST 60 YEARS. WELL, MAYBE. THE GREAT BILL HICKS.

The Rip Post Interview!
SHIN3

ALL FOR TAIKO, AND TAIKO FOR ALL.
How two educators and a scientist came to
 devote themselves to the drum.

HERE
also. . .

DR. HU!

CHINESE MEDICINE DOC EXTRAORDINAIRE!
HERE


AND. . .
SIMON LENG,
AUTHOR OF "WHILE MY GUITAR GENTLY WEEPS: THE MUSIC OF GEORGE HARRISON"

AND. . .
"Mr. Smolin:
teacher, deejay, recording artist--
on Mata Hari, Daktari, high school students, John Donne, the future of the planet, and his album. . .

HERE

plus: 'Breakfast With The Beatles' host Chris Carter, and more HERE

 

MUSIC BOX
HARU NO UMI
GRACE MOORE: UN BEL DI VEDROMO
GRACE MOORE: MI CHIAMANO MIMI
LAWRENCE TIBBETT: ON THE ROAD TO MANDALAY
CHALIAPIN: DOWN THE PETERSKY
GIULINI CONDUCTS FRANCK


FOR THE ENTIRE MUSIC BOX, CLICK HERE

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THE GREAT MCGONIGLE
W.C. Fields Fan Club
Great Quotes by the Great Man
Juggling Hall of Fame


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JOIN THE SONS OF THE DESERT!
Now Accepting New Members! Click here! Or here!

READ IT! THE GREATEST PORN NOVEL EVER WRITTEN!
 BY THE GREAT WALT VICKERY!


ORDER YOURS HERE!

 

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