TRUE CRIME: BLASTER OF REALITY RETURNS FOR ANOTHER REVIEW!

Guest contributor Blaster of Reality returns this week for a book review:

Say You Love Satan (Dell, 1987) by David St. Clair recounts the 1984 murder of 17 year-old Gary Lauwer by Ricky "Acid King" Kasso. It was one of the most sensational crimes of the later part of the century and a gory snapshot of the darkness lurking under the surface of the materialistic, yuppie-infested early-mid 1980's. Kasso was a dropout/dirtbag-type kid who was heavily into heavy metal, drugs, and Satan. Story has it Kasso screamed "Say you love Satan!" as he stabbed the hapless Lauwer more than 17 times in the torso and face for $50 owed to Kasso by Lauwer over some stolen drugs.

Ricky Kasso graduated from smoking weed in the 5th grade to making regular forays into the Bronx to pick up much heavier stuff such as PCP and LSD by the time of the murder (remember, this the Bronx in the insanely violent '80's). The backdrop of this mayhem is the small, sleepy town of Northport, Long Island. It is a place inhabited by doctors and lawyers and business executives with one of the best school systems in the state of New York and resplendent with its own yacht club. It is the kind of place parents dream of raising their children in, with all the material comforts and middle/upper-middle class regalia one could ever dream of. Imagine a small, affluent town like Mentor circa '84 and you have a decent idea of what this Northport place is like. In Northport, parents are chronically absent from their children's lives and both parents and their teenage children suffer from a kind of selfish ennui and lack of concern for others (tons of kids knew Gary had been killed and knew where his body was but no on cared enough to tell the police for weeks).

It was also around the time of two developments that targeted youth. One was the "heavy metal witch-hunts" embodied by Tipper Gore and her PMRC (Parents Music Resource Center) against bands such as W.A.S.P., Twisted Sister and…Sheena Easton (!) among others, culminating in congressional hearings on Capitol Hill and the resultant "parental warning" stickers for releases deemed to obscene. Also well underway was the ridiculous and ineffectual "Just Say No" anti-drug campaign of then-First Lady Nancy Reagan.

It was into this illusion of safety Richard Kasso came of age, oldest child of Dick and Lynn, and brother to 3 girls. By all accounts he had a relatively normal childhood growing up alongside lifelong friend James "Jimmy" Troiano, but he grew into a social misfit and outcast by the time he hits junior high, and is a regular drug user and fan of heavy metal as well as a chronic runaway. A chance encounter at a bookstore introduces him to Satanism, which is further fueled by his appetite for substances and the burgeoning '80's mall metal scene. References to heavy metal acts such as Motley Crue and Ozzy Osbourne abound (hate to see how these kids would have turned out if they had discovered say Venom or Slayer, but they were firmly mall metal), and the book is embedded with mini-love stories between both Troiano and a girl named Lucia and well as Kasso and the blonde-haired fellow dirtbag Debbie. Over time Ricky Kasso becomes a major player and pusher in the underage drug scene of Northport, earning himself a dedicated following of young burnouts (chief among them Jimmy Troiano) and the title  "Acid King." This, coupled with the special relationship he believes he has with his "main man" Satan, serve to give Kasso an inflated sense of egotism, invulnerability, and invincibility.

One night at a party, Lauwer steals some hits of mescaline out of the chest pocket of the sleeping Kasso, setting in motion a chain of events that would culminate with the brutal murder of Lauwer by Kasso in an area known by the name of Aztakea Forest during a PCP and mescaline-hazed hangout fest late one night. After unsuccessfully attempting to collect the monies owed for the mescaline, Kasso lures Lauwer into Aztakea Forest on the pretense of friendship and after some tense build-up, stabs Lauwer repeatedly while ordering him to "Say you love Satan!" Present at the time of the murder is both Jimmy Troiano (who was charged as an accomplice) and Albert Quinones (who agreed to testify in exchange for permanent immunity from prosecution). It was weeks later that the decomposed, eyeless, noseless, and lipless body of Gary Lauwer is discovered, only after an anonymous tip-off alerted the police that Lauwer had been murdered. Prior to that, Kasso had freely admitted, even boasted that he killed Lauwer, going as far as showing some of the local kids who ran with him the corpse. After being arrested for someone calling about them sleeping in their car parked illegally in the yacht club lot, they are taken in and charged with the murder.

We know how the story ends: Kasso is found hanged in his cell before the murder trial begins (he had repeatedly claimed he would kill himself if he ever went to jail). But in a lemony twist, Kasso's accomplice, 19 year-old Jimmy Troiano is found innocent by a jury after no one there that night could keep their story straight during testimony on account of being fried from drugs.

It is a suburban crime tale that has a unique '80's flavor to it as well as a quintessential American-ness at its core. It was a few years after the Amityville murders that also occurred on Long Island, and which also had a chilling alleged occult connection. It is a classic true crime story from the darkest depths of the Reagan era, a nightmare for the paranoid youth-haters of the time, but also a source of fascination for people who are interested in the depravity that could be associated with something as harmless as heavy metal tapes bought at the local mall. The story of the Acid King rips the facade off of American suburbia to expose the underlying horror beneath it and the vapid hypocrisy of 1980's America, and ultimately is a tale of the death of promise in the form of young Gary Lauwer and Ricky Kasso.

BLASTER OF REALITY REVIEWS BEYOND THE BLACK RAINBOW

Happy Imbolc... Happy Chinese New Year of the Horse... Happy Groundhog Day, Fellows! 
Guest contributor Blaster of Reality is back with another review:

     Beyond the Black Rainbow is a 2010 sci-horror flick directed by Panos Cosmatos (son of George, who directed  '80's Stallone action vehicles Rambo II: First Blood and Cobra among others). Beyond the Black Rainbow has been touted as a homage to '80's sci-fi drive-through/B-flicks, but it functions as so much more both stylistically and content-wise and spans many more decades of cinematic influence while still retaining that essential 1980's retro feel to it. Beyond the Black Rainbow contains the sterile cleanliness of THX 1138 and 2001: A Space Odyssey, the mutant powers of Scanners and Firestarter (complete with the underage female protagonist of the latter), the B-movie escape caperishness of Logan's Run, the essential aesthetic and film quality of say, Cyborg or 2019: After the Fall of New York, the whacky science of Being John Malkovich, as well as presenting some trademarks that would not be alien to a Stanley Kubrick movie (i.e. the over-arching theme of dehumanization and authoritarianism favored by Kubrick as well as intense close-ups of emotional faces and shots of long, uniform hallways, for starters). In short, it is a beautiful, but engaging mess land-mined with unanswered questions, inconsistencies, and plot holes big enough to ride a Sentionaut through. 

     

     The film begins in (a little contrivedly perhaps?) 1983. Elena (Eva Allen), a telekinetic 17 year-old, is being kept prisoner by the sinister and deranged Dr. Barry Nyles (Michael Rogers) in a sterile, largely empty research facility called the Arboria Institute, where she is kept in a small, square cell with only a television as company. The Arboria Institiute was founded by Eva's father Dr. Mercurio Arboria, who though still alive, remains senile and medicated somewhere on the grounds of the facility. Dr. Nyles torments Eva with a daily series of interrogations and oppressive physical and mental manipulations, which seem designed to break her will and enslave her under the guise of studying her psychic abilities. In addition to this unpleasantness, Dr. Nyles also harbors a creepy sexual obsession with Eva. Eva's only responses are to lash out telekinetically at Dr. Nyles and to demand to see her father. Dr. Nyles has the ability to dampen Eva's psychic abilities with the use of a mysterious glowing triangle that is also located somewhere in the facility. 

     

     After being pushed too far one day (killing a staff member who has "cannon fodder" written all over her in the process), Eva escapes from the facility. But not before she receives a visit in the middle of the night by a mysterious, red leather-clad humanoid called the Sentionaut (whose exact origin and purpose is unclear), and encounters an albino mutant in heavy restraints, who is only a shadow of their former human self. Eva's escape naturally makes Dr. Nyle apoplectic with rage. 

     In a cool, washed-out black and white flashback sequence, it is revealed that Dr. Arboria, Dr. Nyles, and Dr. Arboria's wife were all colleagues in the '60's, researching and exploring consciousness and it's potential for expansion and ultimate fulfillment. Dr. Nyles agrees to volunteer to immerse himself in a pychotropic "dark matter" to try to unlock the secrets of human consciousness. The tableaux that the already-unstable Dr. Nyles witnesses while submerged in the "dark matter" pushes him in to full-blown psychosis and upon re-emerging from the "dark matter" he brutally murders Dr. Arboria's wife. Not long after that Eva (who is still a baby) is immersed in the selfsame "dark matter" by Dr. Arboria and Dr. Nyles, and it is hinted that this experience is what gives her her psychic abilities.

     

     Back to 1983: Dr. Nyles is in full rampage mode, and has donned a leather battle suit of sorts and is searching for Eva in the area around the facility (or at least that's my impression), but not before he kills Dr. Arboria with a lethal injection. In the course of his rampage, he encounters 2 young dudes who are partying while listening to Venom on a boom box (hey at least it wasn't Motley Crue) and kills both of them. Not long after that, he finally comes face to face with Eva, where he either slips or is pushed telekinetically by Eva, hitting his head on a rock and killing him. And like that, the story is over. Eva wanders toward a lit building in the night, and nothing else is known of her fate.

     

     Beyond the Black Rainbow, while being a piece influenced by decades of cinema, also reminds one of fairy tales of old, where the princess is being kept prisoner by an evil (insert the title of your choice here) in a (insert structure of your choice). It is minimalist in both sets and in dialogue (a further similarity with 2001:… there are long stretches of silence littered throughout the film). Its cinematography and imagery are interesting and visually arresting. It is full utilitarian whites, grays, and blacks, symmetrically contrasted by rich reds, purples, and magentas. Squares, triangles and other geometric shapes serve as symbolism for rigid control. It wants to be a film from 1983 that was never shot, and is almost like a dream of such a film. Some writers have said is a thinly-veiled commentary of the Baby Boomers and New Age ideas, but to be honest, it is best to simply suspend disbelief and enjoy the film at face value.  Otherwise, you might be infuriated by the plot holes that riddle …Black Rainbow like so many holes in Swiss cheese: who was the Sentionaut? Was he someone known to the facility? How did Dr. Arboria not know of Dr. Nyles's murder of his wife (among other wrongdoings)? How long has Dr. Nyles had control over Eva? How did the glowing triangle affect Eva's powers? But whatever you do, remain open-minded about it's ostensible links to the '80's and view it as a standalone piece. That way, you can ignore the earnest attempts to model it after an '80's movie and enjoy it more for its own merits.…Black Rainbow is itself like a drug-induced trip, as self-contained and hard to grasp as a dream of a movie. Ultimately, it is entertaining and engaging, and like a Rorschach test can be as cerebral as you like it, or as popcorn-driven fluff as you like it. Either way, you, the viewer wins. 

Readers may also be interested in another take on the film. Here is a link to Robert Beveridge's critique of Beyond the Black Rainbow: http://vareverta.wordpress.com/?s=Beyond+the+Black+rainbow. Readers may remember Robert Beveridge from my interview with him last July.

Burning Hands 2

Potty’s skin is grey. Chrissy doesn’t know why. She’s known Potty since 1987. They met at the mall downtown in the Terminal Tower. Chrissy was working at the pretzel stand---she was just a young teenager. Potty asked what they did with the pretzels at the end of the night---did they throw them out, or donate them or what. Potty was ageless. She seemed 40 then and she seemed 50 now, though more than 25 years had passed. Chrissy told her the truth: all pretzels are soaked in a saline solution overnight. No waste. Potty had said that was disgusting and walked off. She wore a grey raincoat and heels. 

She came back the next day. She said her name was Patsy, but people call her Potty. Chrissy asked why and Potty said that was a rude thing to ask: could she not smell the faint incontinence? Chrissy felt so shitty about it. But Potty said there were no hard feelings and would she like to go with her to a special place on her break?

Yes!

Potty took Chrissy to the photo machine and pulled her inside. She took out a small metal cylinder she called a cracker, and another metal thing, and a groovy balloon. They did whip-its in the photo booth. 

Chrissy's lips went numb. Before her eyes was an endless escalator, and the steps buzzed electric words that went by too quickly for her to understand. But she felt sweet and knew she'd been there before, that this was the space from which we all spring. 

She hugged Potty, whose smell was dried urine, but also clean hands and gummy hairspray. With her ears ringing, Chrissy said to Potty, "I hope you don't mind I don't get many pop culture references."

And Potty held her close, saying, "Darling, I could not care less about that Popeye shit."

And they've been friends since.

Now, just as Chrissy is getting worried, she sees Potty a tiny ways off, cruising by the river's edge, lips painted good mood red, her coat weighted on one side. Hopefully with a bottle and not hammers like last time.

To be continued...

Burning Hands 1

Chrissy waits for Potty down by the bank of the Cuyahoga, but it's cold. Potty's bringing the bottle. So, it's a rotten way to be. Out in the cold---the grass is frozen and Chrissy's hands are getting hard and her fading magenta ponytail is frozen like the grass. But there is no where else to go today.

Chrissy's just come from her boyfriend's place---he lives in a condo just up the way. She showered. He only lets her stay the night---come day, she's out. Chrissy stands just past a concrete wall, where the trees are coming back through cracked concrete things, the roads, and all these other things down in the flats overgrown with moss and tough winter weeds. Potty lives down here somewhere in a tent. She won't take Chrissy there---it' in a secret place, veiled from the roads. Potty says they're going to get some money today. That would be ok---Chrissy doesn't like her boyfriend. She'd like to get a room somewhere instead. Somewhere she can sit in the daytime and not have to touch old vinegar-reeking skin.

The river isn't frozen now. As it moves, Chrissy feels a cold wind coming out of it. If Potty doesn't get here soon to warm her up with vodka, Chrissy will spin spit and scream just to get some heat.

(To be continued...)

WOOD GRAIN

moths winged in gold

in the room facing east

with the curtains in gold

and the ceiling was closer

crabapple tree cut down  now

and the floor was wood moving

half the tree is underground

spreading like your veins

your eyes spread the water – tree veined fire

hands aging and reaching and working and holding

my eyes pressed from the world very world

jasmine on my palms sticking on the atm

power-lines powerless and other nameless flowers

growing feather leaves

on the bird dead in the driveway insides open bare

nickel wires

blue hair feathers our teeth grow like hair but slower

skin soft scales for touching

another gift from reptiles – the inner ear bones from their jaw bones

touching and listening

my lover's hair is from the moon his skin is from the sun (his eyes are from inside me)

the sun is in Corona, lemon pulp and dead gold, and we want it clear

not diffused into white, the sun's awful white

we crave it when it's too everywhere

wood grain in the island bar full of white people

the ceiling low

the mushrooms inside us wanted the wood grain

black winter tree just to bud the next day reached slow for the moon

the moon looked down at the water

and all us things made from the water

back when the moon was closer and we were all water

lifting the moon was closer and spinning faster

we crave the moon the water the woodgrain

we tore the brown paper bag

rough and rubbed it into leather

we craved the strange in weather

in the straight sky blind back

strange cancer strikes up mold

even molds can't contain bulbs and breaks and pink livers

and even mold can't breath under bleach rain

all the flecks one duty moan dirty flecks

the city and the cuntree tree

bladder bleeds electronics hard drone stagger

bleating like a ghost

bleeding like a goat

hold the cup liver bang houses

band houses to the Erie

the sun was awful

the sun was diffused and made our arms cold

(we shut it out we craved it)

on a white planet wet and awful

legs like trees like legs like wings (moths golden moths in gold)

the world is alive

for who knows what

magic is real

running around like beetles like ants come in

gra saoirse gra

like windows like nettles like pods come in

we shut our eyes as we craved it

we crave it waves in the wood

Cara Benda Bertumbuh

Cara Bertumbuh

Bertumbuh

waves – green wood – straight sky (we wanted it) 

HELP A GOOD FRIEND

My dear friend Stephen Petrus, whose interview appeared on this blog a couple months back, lost his home early this morning in a fire. He's in good spirits and glad to be alive, but he lost everything: 20 years worth of recordings, films, all his gear, his clothes, every material possession. He said he wants to encourage everyone to make sure they have working smoke detectors. Stephen, aka Murderous Vision, is one of the warmest, kindest, funniest people I've known, and he's always ready to give and help anyone.

There is a Facebook group dedicated to gathering donations and sharing updates on his situation. The site includes information about several benefit shows, and how people can donate to his Paypal, or use a fundraising site a friend created. Another option would be to go directly to his Bandcamp page and buy downloads of his great music: http://murderousvision1.bandcamp.com.

Check out this link for more information:

Stephen Petrus Benefit

NEW TANTRAMOON RELEASE HAS ARRIVED!

Well, not brand new.

My new solo release CUYAH LIVER (Tantramoon 03) came out on August 6, 2013, the day before my child was born. The first tiny batch of 13 are gone, but a new batch of 20 has arrived - hit me up if you want one: amandarosehowland3@gmail.com or message me on Facebook.

Here are links to two sample tracks from CUYAH LIVER:

"The Stone Giver" https://soundcloud.com/arhowland
"Woodgroan" http://amandarhowland.bandcamp.com

CUYAH LIVER BY AMANDA R HOWLAND

I also have some copies left of Dead Peasant Insurance RITUALS OF THE IRON AGE (Tantramoon 01).

The Howland/Lombardo EXALTATION HEAT (Tantramoon 02, tape) is very nearly out of print - but I may be able to scrounge one up if you'd like.