A Love Letter to Vajayjay

Not many poets possess the lyrical eloquence of Nile Rodgers. In a few haunting refrains he is able to perfectly capture the complex relationship shared between a man and a woman. Much has been written about the glory of love, but its rare to find a work which so effectively summons the most primal romantic desires. Pure unbridled lust - served piping hot on a steamy musical platter. Its enough to make you wish for second helpings (or is that humpings?). 

Nile Rodgers helped usher in a new age of enlightenment and generously sprinkled it with a electro-funk beat. He was a lover, he was an artist, and he was truth. Because in the end, its all about finding a little piece of “Yum, Yum” to call your very own. And if you should be lucky enough to sleep all night with your hand on it - HOT DAMN!

Emily Post...eat your heart out. 

A Man and His Peanuts

Lurking deep within the subconscious of every man, there is a pimply 13 year old. His sole purpose is to attribute sexual connotations to anything that might strike his distinctly adolescent fancy. Try as you might to shake him, he will always linger - like a wispy teenage moustache at the senior prom. But sometimes...just sometimes, he may have a point.

A lot of self-important music snobs still living in their mothers' basements will unfairly label 1960s bubblegum music as a cheap and shallow attempt to cash in on counterculture iconography. In actuality, this genre was responsible for stripping psychedelia of its drug-fuelled pretension – creating a unique blend of joyous nonsense. Admit it, “Yummy, Yummy, I got Love in My Tummy” is no less a work of art than “I am the Walrus Coo Coo Ca Choo”.  As witnessed by many an Afterschool Special: LSD does not make you any smarter – although it does make prone to jumping through plate glass windows. So suck on this stoners – good clean infantile fun, brought to you by “The Man”.

All rambling aside. Please listen to this sinfully enjoyable track from the Ohio Express, one of the biggest brands in the bubblegum business. It sounds like it could have the work of a pre-pubescent Jim Morrison. Oh the undeniable pleasure of possibly hearing the word P_ _ IS! 

IMAGINE (All the Cat Fights)

Joan Collins give John Lennon's classic some much needed Hollywood "sparkle". I don't know what's more impressive - the fact that she actually had the chutzpah to take such a glittery dump on the Lennon legacy...or the earnest attention to detail displayed throughout this loving YouTube tribute video. Its almost enough to make you want to give peace a chance - and then slap it into your oversized swimming pool.

Let this serve as proof that Joan Collins' heart was as big as her shoulder pads!

The Other King of Rock n' Roll

If you dig deep into the musty annals of music history; taking time to explore every worn nook and creaky cranny - you might find mention of Ral Donner. Mr. Donner's primary claim to fame was rather uncanny physical and vocal resemblance to Elvis Presley. But in the end, there was only room for one King of Rock n' Roll, and Ral's died never earning the title of “world's most famous bloated corpse”.

After revisiting the Ral Donner catalog, it quickly becomes apparent that he was no mere Elvis imitator. Ral was a very fine artist in his own right, whose music holds up surprisingly well over half a century later. No one can really compete with Elvis, because he was a less a man than a mythology – a living breathing velvet painting sent from the heavens to bestow us with the miracle of polyester. Ral's mistake was that he ever tried. But in the end, you can't deny that he was a damn fine early rocker who possessed some rather nice musical flourishes of his very own.

“Love Isn't Like That” is one of the more intriguing Ral tunes. It possess a cheeky self-awareness that was somewhat ahead of its time. It would not sound out of place as a product of 1970s Rockabilly revival. It holds up very well to multiple listening, and brings us one step closer to uncovering the true essence of Ral. 

Enjoy!

Advertising for Trainables

When you hear the word "Cheer", you think simple, you think fun, and you think carefree. So naturally this famous laundry detergent brand is the perfect fit for people suffering from mild intellectual disabilities. After all, back in the 1970s they were a deliciously untapped market just bursting with simple-minded potential. You can easily imagine boozy ad execs execs plotting their ingenious strategy, "Lets just assume the average customer has yet to master primary colors - and work from there". 

This ad is a bit of an enigma. Each additional viewing only sinks you deeper into its stupifying spiral. There are no easy answers - only yummy green crystals! Its sheer simplicity is as refreshing, as it is baffling.

Is this pitchwoman an overworked housewife coming off a benzedrine bender, or a bonified glue eater? And how much Cheer laundry detergent can all those disability checks really buy? Come to think of it, maybe they should put a prize inside every box. A Velcro lid would also be nice. Cheer smells like rainbows.

Rockets = Blast!

Star date: Sometime in the late 1970s.

A musical force emerges from the cosmos - and for the first time, an unsuspecting human race encounters unapologetic intergalactic defenders of all things Eurotrash.

Everybody dances.

Eventually the world goes back to normal...or does it?

All hail Rockets - the best thing to come out of France since fragrant cheese and Jerry Lewis film festivals. Its Devo by way of the Orion Nebula. Ready to probe and party, then party and probe. They're synthesized skinheads from beyond the stars!

Don't ask questions...just let the otherworldly energy course through you like one big hot burning gamma ray.

Mission control - we have made contact...and it feels good!

Forgotten Flicks: Who was that Lady? (1959)

After an enduring emotionally gruelling, but nostalgically enjoyable, “Mad Men” DVD marathon. The Rocketship Supernova was inspired to revisit some relics from that bygone era of widespread repression and good-old fashioned male camaraderie. 

Who was the Lady? (George Sidney, 1959) is a delightfully dated romp in the grand tradition of mid-century “battle of the sexes” farces. Its a quaintly offensive little time capsule, just begging to be rediscovered by the Eames-era obsessed masses. The plot is pure hokum, but like fine wine, vintage hokum gets better with age. 

 

Tony Curtis plays David Wilson, a mild mannered scientist whose wife catches him in an amourous embrace with one of his students (she's foreign, that explains it!). Naturally, David's wife Ann (Janet Leigh), is more than a little bit peeved about the entire situation, and leaves in a fit of comedic furry. Fortunately for David, his free-wheeling best friend, and former wing man, Mike, a swinging TV writer, has the perfect scheme to get him out of his marital predicament. 

Mike encourages David to pretend he is a secret agent for the FBI, in an effort to convince Dave's wife that the juicy kiss with a cumly coed was merely part of his patriotic duty to bring down a ring of buxom Russian spies with pleasantly loose morals. This being the era of cold-war irrationality, Ann falls for the rather dim-witted charade with full special-ed aplomb. But just when you think Dave is going to get away with a little lighthearted adultery, things get predictably complicated (can't a man just enjoy a little extra-marital hubba hubba?). 

Enter a real FBI agent portrayed with straight-laced intensity by the great James Whitmore, a couple of loose “showbiz” types in the Marilyn Monroe mold, and GASP! - some legit, and very devious, Russian spies.

The entire film is a masterful exercise in finely-crafted stupidity - but gosh darn it, it sure is a lot of fun. Dino brings a lot of heart and chutzpah to his role as an oafish cad, and Tony Curtis makes a most lovable lying adulterer. You also won't want to miss Larry Storch's hilarious turn as an anal retentive Rusky interrogator. If you thought he was funny in “F-Troop: - prepare to thoroughly wet your pants. 

George Sidney's efficient direction nicely compliments the subject matter, and their is some glorious black and white cinematography - shot on location in Manhattan (in all its 1950's glory). The climax in the flooded basement of the Empire State Building is guaranteed to elicit some hokey yucks. 

Sure its politically incorrect, but once you get past the misogynistic undercurrents, Who was that Lady? is almost refreshing in comparison to today's rather limp relationship comedies. I guess the moral of the story is: Boys will be boys, and boys do some very dumb things for mostly illogical reasons, but they will always be just wily enough to outsmart their intellectually deficient wives - at least until G-Men and Soviets get involved! 

Three turbo boosters (out of four)