Saturday, October 16, 2010


Satan ESPECIALLY hates that lady with the cute little dog!
 (click on the image to see larger scan in detail)

Saturday, October 2, 2010


... I save 25 year old laminated cockroaches.

Ah, the nostalgia! Schofield Barracks, Hawaii; 1/8 Field Artillery, 25th Infantry Division, US  Army. These were the some of the biggest roaches I'd ever seen in my life. Though, only slightly bigger than the ones at my last job before enlistment - Maintenance and security at a 15-floor urban nursing home on Woodward Ave. in Detroit called the Detroiter Residence.

Click on the images to see them in all their large detail - Enjoy!

Friday, October 1, 2010


Text: T.H. Metzger (1993)
See the man, see the God.
Incarnation in progress.
Behold the man, beneath the God.
beware the dog, behind you.
Believe, begone, behave yourself.
Be there, or beware.

Behold: I sing of Spam.
Oblong can, silver crown,
rounded corners, mysterious key
without a lock
Spam-killing man, man-killing Spam.
Calling all gods.
Squeeze and drain the juices,
down the sink, blood and oil,
trouble and toil.
When will we three meet again?
In Power, Glory, or in Shame?
Spam! The god in a can.
Spam! Baal's big bad brother.
Spam! Fears no man, eats no ham,
does not give a flying goddamn.

I'm gonna put on the Iron Jock,
and chase Satan round the block.
I'm gonna put on the Iron Fez,
and see what Jahweh says.

Evil ones: Juju priests,
secret Levite order
Spam-killing men of God.
Evil ones: vegetarian Hecate-junge
black as a kite, high as night.
Evil ones: goated-headed Melchizedeks
with the hots for what's not.

I feel the heat, I sing of meat,
I long for that throbbing
luncheon treat.
Unspeakable effulgence of by-products.
Ancient Anathema Cannibal
Spastic God in a Can.
Eating meat, spodee-odee
eating meat.
it slices, it dices, it sacrifices,
Culture is dead. Let's eat!

I loved that pig, pink and big.
I loved that lamb, the son of Spam.
The Pearl without a price.
Drop him in acid
and he disappears.

That's right, pilgrim,
the Mighty Yamm has returned.
Say it proud: I'm back and I'm loud.
The Mighty Yamm and his little Lamb
are back for more
of that precious ore.
Digging deep into your mainline,
poking for your hidden vein.
I Yamm what I am and that's all
what I am.
the sweetest of potatoes,
the Uber-tuber,
the root of all evil.
Sleek and hard, throbbing lard,
smooth and strong, a mile long.
I sing of me,
a perfect gram of the holy I AM.

Devil in a dead man's underwear,
uh huh.
Devil got a dead man's underwear on his head.
He's the life of every party
He's a can of poison meat.
Let me introduce you to the
petty paraclete.
Devil in a dead man's underwear.
Uh huh. Uh huh.

The spirits of food dissolve
in my body - acid and rise
as foul vapors into my brain.
Hydrochloric acid, HCL.
The magic letters
an acid bath to cook the ores.
Reagent of pure love
Caustic kisses, candy bliss.
burning in the abdominal abyss.
My body is a bag of acid,
conversion chamber,
innermost lake of fire.
Have you been washed in the acid
of the Lamb?

Body bag, wanna feel you in my
Body bag, gotta seal you in a
Body bag, wanna touch you in my
Body bag, you're too much inside my
Body bag, Body bag.

My guts a blast furnace,
blessed Bessemer converter.
Hydrogen sulphide, methane
from my vent holes.
flaming nether retrobooster.
deep, deeper, deepest.

On your feet or on your knees,
in the grotto of my
favorite agonies.
The Church of Beautiful Women
Who Hate Sex.
The Church of Hitting Each Other
with Iron Rods and
Pretending to Like it.
The Church of Our Lady of
Perpetual Mastication.
The Church of Smearing Yourself
with Lard and Baking
Until Light Browned.
Owwwww! Brown off!
Victory in my pants.
Golden baby, preemie homunculus
appearing full formed in my BVDs.
Spam-whiz: aerosol processed
meat-food product
squirting out in nacreous jets.

I ain’t just whistling gristle.
Am I blue? You'd be too.
Spewing bones, gizzard, skin
and feather too.

Don't you know about the bird?
Everyone knows that the bird comes third.
Bird, bird, bird,
the irrational word.
Surd, surd, surd,
the irrational bird.
Everybody knows
that the word comes first.
In the beginning was
the bird dance beat
the word made meat
the dove in heat
Must I repeat?

We have met the enemy and he tastes
Like ham. Too damn salty.
I am what I am
goddamn, goddamn.
I am what I eat.
Black bran, the key bone,
fowls of the air special,
the creeping thing plate,
cloven hoof burger.

Body bag, wanna cook you in this
Body bag, who forsook you in this
Body bag, lost and found inside this
Body bag, break you down into a
Body bag, Body bag,
Seals in flavorful juices.
ziplock. Ziplock. ZIPLOCK.

Thursday, September 30, 2010

Interesting Things I Find In Thrift-Store Books

"The Smoky God" is a 1908 science fiction / fantasy tale in the "Hollow Earth" vein. Inside this copy was an interesting autographed polaroid-style b&w photo:

(Click on pics for bigger scans!)

Curly Dan, Wilma Ann & the Danville Mountain Boys

* Originally from Clay, West Virginia. Moved to Detroit, Michigan and performed there for most of their career.
* Real names: Denslie and Wilma Ann Holcomb.
* Formed their band in 1955.
* One of the first bluegrass acts to perform and record in the Detroit area.
* Dan worked for the Chrysler Corporation.
* Carmen Flatt (second cousin of Lester Flatt) was a member of their band. (He died in 1993).
* Retired from performing in the early 1980's.

A few of their tracks can be heard on YouTube:

Curly Dan - I Flubbed My Dub

Curly Dan - You'll Be The One To Cry

Curly Dan & Jim Maynard - You`ll Be The One To Cry

Here's the discographical info I could find online; Delighted to note they had 3 records on Detroit's obscure Fortune label. Note two interesting references to Michigan highway US23 - "North on 23" and "South on 23"

Fortune Records
196 - Curly Dan & Wilma and the Danville Mountain Boys: Sleep Darling / My Little Rose 1956
197 - Dan Curly And The Danville Mountain Trio: Sleep Darling / My Little Rose - 1956
228 - Curley Dan & Wilma Ann and the Danville Mt. Boys: North On 23 / I Don't See No Wings On You - 196?

Danville Label
102 Curly Dan, Wilma Ann & the Danville Mountain Boys: Mixed up life / I'd better drink up and go
103 Curly Dan, Wilma Ann & the Danville Mountain Boys: Beautiful memory / Live in peace
104 Curly Dan, Wilma Ann & the Danville Mountain Boys: I'm in heaven / I'm sorry if I'm crying    
105 Curly Dan, Wilma Ann & the Danville Mountain Boys: Teenage prayer / South on 23
106 Curly Dan, Wilma Ann & the Danville Mountain Boys: Just to hear them say you all / I hide the hurt

"THE SMOKY GOD" or A Voyage to the Inner World
1908 By Willis George Emerson
Text version of this book can be downloaded at Project Gutenberg:

Author's Wikipedia info:

"The Smoky God" is early science fiction / fantasy tale in the "Hollow Earth" vein. Here's an excerpt:
The great luminous cloud or ball of dull-red fire--fiery-red in the mornings and evenings, and during the day giving off a beautiful white light, "The Smoky God,"-- is seemingly suspended in the center of the great vacuum "within" the earth, and held to its place by the immutable law of gravitation, or a repellant atmospheric force, as the case may be. I refer to the known power that draws or repels with equal force in all directions.

The base of this electrical cloud or central luminary, the seat of the gods, is dark and non-transparent, save for innumerable small openings, seemingly in the bottom of the great support or altar of the Deity, upon which "The Smoky God" rests; and, the lights shining through these many openings twinkle at night in all their splendor, and seem to be stars, as natural as the stars we saw shining when in our home at Stockholm, excepting that they appear larger. "The Smoky God," therefore, with each daily revolution of the earth, appears to come up in the east and go down in the west, the same as does our sun on the external surface. In reality, the people "within" believe that "The Smoky God" is the throne of their Jehovah, and is stationary. The effect of night and day is, therefore, produced by the earth's daily rotation.

Wednesday, September 29, 2010


Another tidbit from the Rev. Roscoe Dogbone's hoard of religious propaganda. Why give the kids candy when they come begging - when you can lure them to Jesus, instead? (click on them to see the full-sized scans)

Detroit Club Cards from the '70's

Digging deep into the archives of the Rev. Roscoe Dogbone, we come up with a stack of business-card sized advertising ephemera from Detroit. Urban archaeologist Tim Caldwell may have had something to do with placing these in the hands of the Blind Tattooist.

First,  a couple of religious cards. Top one is obviously an invitation to an event put on by the Rev. C.L. Franklin - (Aretha's father). An "Evening of Fun by the Black Professional Models." Wonder if they abbreviated that "BPM"? Also, New Black Christians (NBC?) put on a 70's tea-party with a "Demonic Possession" theme. Whoa!

 Next, two separate "Disco Cabaret" after-hours events. Top one is technically 1980, but check it out: "SPECIAL GUEST LADY TYRRELL THE SNAKE GODDESS PERFORMING WITH HER 10 FT. PET SNAKE" The Disco Cabaret on the card below is Deejayed by "The Black Mack" - he's got everything on the right track!

Two more; Top one is a card for a nice soul food joint. Bottom one mentions an entertainment feature called "The Streaker." Hmmm

Lastly, a VIP Card for Mr. Kelley's Lounge, granting the bearer "Special Consideration." I'm pretty sure this was a 70's GoGo club. The last card is "Pee Wee Private Club." Trying very hard not to make any Pee Wee Herman cracks here.

Friday, September 24, 2010

Love Sucks.

Yet more desecrated hearts I drew for my 'zine "F.O.D.! Maggotzine" Circa 1990 (Click on these images to see larger full-detail versions!)

My cover art for F.O.D.! #2. Play on the Crowley quote "Love is the Law - Love under will."

Title Page art for F.O.D.! #2. I think the idea was that I'd overdosed on love and emerged a blackened creature like the raven with the cross in the upper right.

"X-acto Heart" #11 X-acto blades and razor blades leaving their mark.

"Evolve" - I must have been fairly bitter after that breakup!

"Vaccuum Heart" or "Love Sucks"

Chicken Soul for the Soup

"Chicken Soul For The Soup", my recent illustration for Issue #1 of Fiona Smyth's "The Wilding"
(Click on image to view detail!)

When I think of the title "The Wilding" I think of de-domestication, a devolution to a more primal form, a return to the feral.

I was fixated on that news story several years ago about the lady who got a batter-fried chicken head in her box of Chicken McNuggets, and have been thinking up voodoo scenarios around this particular animal sacrifice. Seriously, if I ever got a chicken head in my McNuggets, I'd be ecstatic - wouldn't you?

In Voudon ritual, people go into trances after inviting possession by one of the voodoo deities (who all have catholic counterparts) during hypnotic drumming and dancing & intoxication affairs. There is sometimes sacrifice of a chicken - the bird's body can run around around headless for a few minutes - as if also possessed. Anyway, I associate this "possessed" state with the idea of a sudden temporary return to the feral - driven more by instinct than intellect, as the head has been severed, and it may take several minutes for the soul to completely escape through the stump.

On a personal level, when I'm married or in a serious relationship, I always feel like my mate is to whatever extent kind of taming or domesticating me - which is not without its benefits. When someone breaks up or get divorced from a serious relationship, they often go through a "wilding" phase during which they party recklessly, get tattooed or pierced. Man, we get so much "rebound" business like that at the shop! Often there's a name tattoo to cover up, too ... or their ex forbade them tats or piercings and they're getting them done for spite now. I envy these people, because my reaction to a break up is usually self-loathing and depression - and their coping mechanisms seem like so much more fun.

"The Devil's Profile" Appears in My Vasectomy Bandages

Tuesday, September 21, 2010

Please Adopt My Fabulous 8-Tracks

Please Adopt My Fabulous 8-Tracks, so I don't have to put them down.

I'm having to fight my hoarding tendencies and part with detrius that I've had around for years. If you have a functioning 8-track player, or even a recorder (there are a bunch of blanks!) and want obscure media to play, this is your chance. If you're in the Downriver Detroit area, you can pick 'em up. If not, you'd have to pay shipping. I just don't want to have to trash these things. Here's a list of what's there, if the pictures aren't big enough to read the titles; UPDATE - there's a notorious problem with carts of this age where the foam-rubber support that holds the tape against the head disintegrates under pressure. I've had to toss half of these as a result, so check the list below for the remaining titles: (click on the pics to see larger version)

Hot Chocolate - Hot Chocolate
Dead-Eye Dick - Volume 2 (raunchy comedy)
3 Little Pigs & Other Stories (Little Badger Records)
Alice Cooper - Killer (Bootleg)
Lou Reed - Berlin
Mark Almond II
Count Basie - Everything is Coming Up Roses
Tony Bennett - All Time Hall of Fame Hits
Dr. Seuss Presents Bartholomew and the Oobleck and Others
Klassiks Go Disko
Smoky Robinson / Miracles - Flying High Together
Bunch of Blanks!