RECOMMENDED BLOG SITE

Folks, I strongly urge you to peruse Just a Girl in shortshorts talking about whatever , a fun site run by a woman whose opinions and observations you should definitely read. Further proof that dykes in general are a lot of fun, cool dykes are a thing of joy forever. TRUST YER BUNCHE!!!

WELL, THAT WAS QUICK!

Thanks to John over at Gruntosaurus Rex for the incredibly swift heads-up on this one. From Telegraph UK:

BBC REVERSES DECISION TO CENSOR POGUES

By Nicole Martin and Lucy Cockcroft
Last Updated: 7:27pm GMT 18/12/2007

BBC Radio 1 has bowed to mounting pressure to play the uncensored version of “Fairytale of New York” after a flood of complaints from listeners and the mother of the singer Kirsty MacColl. The station’s head of music, George Ergatoudis, had ordered the word to be removed from the single, which is in the running to be this year’s Christmas number one, for fear of upsetting homosexuals. He had stood by his decision to censor the duet between MacColl and Shane MacGowan of The Pogues, even though the station has been playing the song in full every year since it was first released in 1987. But after a day of heavy criticism, Mr Parfitt backed down, saying that the singers did not use the word with any “negative intent”.

He said: “Radio 1 does not play homophobic lyrics or condone bullying of any kind. It is not always easy to get this right, mindful of our responsibility to our young audience. I understand absolutely the thinking behind this decision. While we would never condone prejudice of any kind, we know our audiences are smart enough to distinguish between maliciousness and creative freedom.”

Fans were left baffled by the decision to bleep the word “faggot” from the line: “You scum bag, you maggot, you cheap, lousy faggot, Happy Christmas your arse, I pray God it’s our last.” They attacked the move as ridiculous, especially because Radio 2, which is considered more conservative, had decided to play the song in full.

MacColl’s mother, Jean, had dismissed the move as “pathetic and ridiculous”, saying that some of the world’s most famous writers used bawdy language. “Shane has written the most beautiful song and these characters live, they really live, and you have such sympathy for them,” she said. “Today we have a lot of gratuitous vulgarity, which I think is quite unnecessary. But these are characters and they speak like that.”

Radio 1 listeners also inundated the station’s website with complaints about the decision. One wrote: “What an absolutely ludicrous decision. How can a song be played so much for 20 years, yet suddenly it’s offensive? So Radio 1 will be censoring the song but Radio 2 won’t? Nice to see some consistency from PC BBC.” Another said: “I’m offended that you have edited this classic Christmas song. I would love to know what the person is like who, after 20 years of playing the song, now decides that someone 'might’ be offended. It’s pathetic.”

Even gay rights campaigners had criticised the decision as “misguided." Andrew Gilliver, spokesman for the Lesbian and Gay Foundation, said: “I have spent hours ringing around and trawling the internet and I can’t find anyone in the gay community who is offended by this song, in fact it is well loved. Obviously that word put in a different context can be offensive, but not in this song, it is about how the word is used. I don’t think it is offensive here, unlike the homophobic language used in rap music. By making this an issue we are just bringing that word to the fore again, it’s creating a problem where there isn’t one.”

"Fairytale Of New York" has been covered by more than 10 different bands since it first hit top spot in Ireland in 1987. In 2000, Ronan Keating and Maire Brennan caused controversy when they changed the sentence “you cheap lousy faggot” to “you’re cheap and you’re haggard” in their cover version.

Shane MacGowan told Channel 4 News the row “says more about Radio 1 than about me or about anyone else," adding that it was “probably quite a good thing, really ... because everyone will want to know what the bleeps are”. He seemed bemused by the fuss, saying: “It’s just a pop song at the end of the day.” Asked if he was upset about Radio 1’s decision to edit the lyrics, MacGowan replied: “I can get through that one without any trouble.”

But gay rights campaigner Peter Tatchell said that Radio 1’s U-turn was evidence of double standards. He said: “I doubt that the BBC would take the same relaxed attitude if this song included the n-word" or other ethnic slurs. For the sake of consistency, the f-word should be deleted. The BBC and other media urgently need to agree a consistent policy covering all forms of prejudiced language so that homophobic, racist, anti-Semitic and sexist words are all treated in the same way,” he said.


Shane McGowan, your daughter's new boyfriend.

C.S.A.-THE CONFEDERATE STATES OF AMERICA (2004)

If ever there were a film that's guaranteed to make the average American squirm uncomfortably, this is it. Kevin Wilmott's brilliant fake documentary takes us through an alternate history in which the south won the Civil War, a state of affairs that leads to the ways of the antebellum period continuing into a radically different present. To say much more would give away a lot of the bite of this paiful and unflinching satire, but I would like to point out a few excellent bits:

"I Married An Abolitionist"-a clip from a 1950's horror flick that hilariously cribs from I MARRIED A MONSTER FROM OUTER SPACE (1958).

"Runaway"-a vicious and accurate look at the alternate history's version of the TV series "Cops." (The ultra-redneck bluegrass parody of the "Cops" theme tune is priceless and creepy when you consider that such a society would never have allowed hip-hop or reggae to happen, the music revolution of the mid-1900's instead taking place in a slaveless Canada.)

There are some great clips from classic films from the alternate history including a silent credited to D.W. Griffith entitled "The Capture of Dishonest Abe," about a blackface-disguised Lincoln's attempt to escape the country to Canada via the Underground Railroad,

and an incredibly overacted perf by a British actor in blackface portraying the slave who gave Jefferson Davis the idea to allow northerners to own slaves.

This is really good stuff, simultaneously chilling and darkly funny, to say nothing of thought-provoking. I'm guessing it didn't get a major theatrical release due to the incendiary nature of the material, but if you're reading this blog you're obviously not a pussy and can handle it, so take a chance and TRUST YER BUNCHE!!!

Well, at least it's better than MTV.

OH, FOR FUCK'S SAKE!-THE POGUES FACE CHRISTMAS TUNE CENSORSHIP

The horror of Shane McGowan. Have his teeth finally just given up and fallen out?

Thanks to the lovely Red Stapler for alerting me to this one. It looks like the word "faggot" is being censored from the Pogues' classic "Fairytale of New York," a heartwarming Yuletide ditty told from the point of view of lush thrown into the drunk tank and featuring an unsavory reminiscence of the lout having an insult fight with his equally sleazy girlfriend, described in the song as "a slut on junk." Sure "faggot" is offensive, but considering the context of the song I'd say it's acceptable for the squalid narrative. I'd have the same opinion if "nigger" had been instead been used, so there. Here are the lyrics so judge for yourself, and then read the following news article.

FAIRYTALE OF NEW YORK

It was Christmas Eve babe
In the drunk tank
An old man said to me, won't see another one
And then he sang a song
The Rare Old Mountain Dew
I turned my face away
And dreamed about you

Got on a lucky one
Came in eighteen to one
I've got a feeling
This year's for me and you
So happy Christmas
I love you baby
I can see a better time
When all our dreams come true

They've got cars big as bars
They've got rivers of gold
But the wind goes right through you
It's no place for the old
When you first took my hand
On a cold Christmas Eve
You promised me
Broadway was waiting for me

You were handsome
You were pretty
Queen of New York City
When the band finished playing
They howled out for more
Sinatra was swinging,
All the drunks they were singing
We kissed on a corner
Then danced through the night

The boys of the NYPD choir
Were singing "Galway Bay"
And the bells were ringing out
For Christmas day

You're a bum
You're a punk
You're an old slut on junk
Lying there almost dead on a drip in that bed
You scumbag, you maggot
You cheap lousy faggot
Happy Christmas your arse
I pray God it's our last

I could have been someone
Well so could anyone
You took my dreams from me
When I first found you
I kept them with me babe
I put them with my own
Can't make it all alone
I've built my dreams around you

(copyright 1988 Shane MacGowan & Jem Finer)

Not exactly "Have Yourself A Merry Little Christmas," is it? Anyway, from the BBC News:

RADIO 1 CENSORS POGUES' FAIRYTALE

BBC Radio 1 has said it will stand by its ban on the word "faggot" from the Pogues' 1987 Christmas hit Fairytale of New York to avoid offence. The word, sung by the late Kirsty MacColl as she trades insults with Shane MacGowan, has been dubbed out. But MacColl's mother, Jean, called the ban "too ridiculous", while the Pogues said they found it "amusing".

The BBC said: "We are playing an edited version because some members of the audience might find it offensive." A Radio 1 spokeswoman said the station's management had met on Tuesday morning to discuss the issue. She said they "had made their decision" and would not be going back on it. But the ban does not apply across the BBC. Radio 2 said it would be playing the full version of the track.

MacColl, who was killed by a speedboat off the coast of Mexico in 2000, brands Pogues frontman Shane MacGowan "you scumbag, you maggot, you cheap lousy faggot" in the song, which reached number two when it was first released. She continues: "Happy Christmas your arse, I pray God it's our last." Another line, where MacGowan calls MacColl "an old slut on junk", has also been edited.

Jean MacColl told BBC Radio 5 Live's Breakfast: "These are a couple of characters - not in the first flush of youth, I would have thought. This is the way they spoke. Today we have a lot of a gratuitous vulgarity and whatever from people all over which I think is quite unnecessary. They are what they are. These are characters and they speak like that."

A spokesman for the Pogues, who first formed in 1982 and reunited in 2001 after a five-year break, said they "found it amusing that a song that has been one of the best-loved Christmas tunes should suddenly have been deemed offensive".

Listeners have also been criticising the ban on the Radio 1 Newsbeat website. Denise Venn said it was "a complete over-reaction" and Simon from Southampton called it "political correctness gone mad". Dean in Southampton added: "I'm gay and it certainly doesn't offend me. I find it more offensive that the BBC has tampered with this track which hopefully will be number one this Christmas."

However, veteran gay rights activist Peter Tatchell said Radio 1's actions were right. "The word faggot is being sung as an insult, alongside scumbag and maggot. In this abusive context it is unacceptable," he said. "It is shameful that BBC Radio 2 and other radio and TV stations are continuing to play the full version with the word faggot included. It shows that they don't take homophobic language as seriously as racist language."

Shane McGowan: drinking like a fish so you don't have to.

OH, FOR FUCK'S SAKE!-EXACTLY WHAT THE FUCK IS UP WITH MICHAEL JACKSON?

No, that isn't Ben Grimm out shopping for manga. It's Michael Jackson! AAAIIIIEEEE!!!!!

One of the many things that makes me feel old is being able to remember when Michael Jackson was black. No, really. Michael used to be not only black, but he was really good-looking, causing panties to get swampy across all racial borders, and what has he been for the past fifteen years or so? A white woman. And now, if the photos in today's New York Post are any indicator, he's once more surgically altered himself, perhaps in hope that he'll swipe Michael Chiklis' part as the Thing in FANTASTIC FOUR 3: ATTACK OF THE PEDOPHILES FROM THE NEGATIVE ZONE.

Michael Jackson and Ben "The Thing" Grimm. You can't make this shit up, man.

I mean, seriously, what the fuck is up with this?

"Look upon me! I am a beast!!!"

And I'm curious to know exactly what manga Mike's picking up. FROM EROICA WOTH LOVE, perhaps?

And at what point did Michael veer off into the Twilght Zone? I'd say the signs were there as of the video for THRILLER and perhaps before, but once the 1990's came along I'm convinced he fully lost his natural mind. If he ever willingly underwent deep psychoanalysis and consented for the results of his therapy to be published, I would spend a hundred bucks on that book just so I could finally have some answers. I usually don't give a fuck about the endless American celebrity train wrecks, but in this case I just gotta know!!!

JUST HAD TO SHARE

I just had to share this Christmas card with you. I received it over the weekend and it's from Renee Witterstaeter, president of Eva Ink Publishing , and uber-talented cartoonist Michael Golden, and I love Mike's depiction of the Golden Age Wonder Woman with a thick build and boobs that look like they could knock you out if she smacked you in the head with them (in other words, my kinda gal!).


It's just plain beautiful and makes me feel good in a bondagey, kick-ass-on-Nazis kind of way. Merry Big-Tittied Amazon Christmas to all!!!

RORSCHACH GOES TO THE MOVIES

“(Existence) has no pattern save what we imagine after staring at it for too long."
-Walter “Rorscach” Kovacs

Okay. I have dreaded the big screen adaptation of the landmark graphic novel WATCHMEN since the day it was first suggested that someone might attempt to film it. I have serious reservations for several reasons about how Alan Moore and Dave Gibbons' classic will translate to cinema, despite how cinematic the comic book source material was, but I'll see it anyway simply out of morbid curiosity. But now that morbid curiosity has become vested interest, now that I've heard about one bit of casting that I never in a million years would have considered. Rorschach, the psychotic and ultra-violent vigilante investigator with the disturbing visage, will be essayed by Jackie Earle Haley, perhaps best known for his portrayal of Kelly Leak, the motorcycle-riding juvenile delinquent batting ace in the original THE BAD NEWS BEARS (1976), who so memorably described his soon-to-be-teammates' baseball playing as not fit for anybody but “faggots and old farts with nothing better to do with themselves.”

Jackie Earle Haley, then...


...and now.


Haley appeared in the two wretched BEARS sequels and after those he was pretty much relegated to the blink-and-you'll-miss-it flicks, save for an hilarious guest turn on the late, lamented Fox sitcom GET A LIFE, but nowadays he’s making a comeback. His gaunt, haunted look is perfect for Rorscach’s unmasked true identity, Walter Kovacs, and he certainly has the acting chops to make the part work. I only hope the rest of the film lives up to this one bright ray of hope…


Haley and Kovacs.

For more on this, check out the WATCHMEN movie blog .

COMIC BOOKS ARE FOR IDIOTS: THE SINESTRO CORPS WAR

Running for the past six months in the pages of GREEN LANTERN and GREEN LANTERN CORPS, the epic crossover "The Sinestro Corp War" has just concluded, and I have to say that I'm rather pleased with the results.

Super-villain Sinestro — one of the legion of Silver Age DCU villains whose names ends with an "O" — has been kicking around since 1961 and has earned the distinction of being perhaps Hal (primary Green Lantern of Earth) Jordan's arch-enemy, having once been considered the greatest Green Lantern ever to wield a power ring, until he was supplanted by his own trainee, a newbie Hal Jordan. Unfortunately for the citizens of his homeworld, Korugar, Sinestro's policing of the planet was very much of the "my way or the highway" stripe, and he eventually grew to become a merciless dictator who demanded outright, blind worship and loyalty from his people, thereby ensuring his ousting by the Guardians of the Universe (those balding, blue refugees from the Lollipop Guild who formed the Green Lantern Corps in the first place and wield great cosmic power). Once stripped of his duites and power ring and banished to the anti-matter universe of Qward, an embittered Sinestro got his hands on a yellow power ring — this was back in the days when the Green Lantern power rings had that idiot weakness when pitted against the color yellow — and embarked on a career as an intergalactic black hat.

I've read many stories that featured Sinestro over the years and have never felt he lived up to his position in the roster of top tier DCU baddies, coming off as a priggish martinet and occasionally looking a bit like John Waters (despite being modeled after David Niven), and not being intimidating in any way; admittedly, I have not read all of the stories to feature him and missed the one where he wiped out whole star systems, which is pretty badassed. He was scrawny, balding, resembled a bitchy hairdresser, and I swear to the gods that I can't think of a single story in which he struck me as a viable threat. Until now, that is.


Vintage Sinestro, in dire need of a protein shake and a gym membership. (And what the hell's up with Hal Jordan's hairdo?)

Fed up of years of humiliating defeat at the hands of the Green Lanterns, Sinestro finally gets his evil shit together and literally becomes one with the essence of fear itself, then sets about recruiting the most vicious like-minded scum from across several galaxies to form the Sinestro Corps.


The current Sinestro, facist king of the bad news bling-bling.

What results ia a deadly intergalactic carnage-fest which gets so nasty that the Guardians of the Universe rewrite the rules and authorise the Green Lantern Corps' power rings to be used with lethal intent, basically making the Corps cops with fully-loaded magnums instead of just creative and tough crossing guards who make big, green boxing gloves with their willpower. As the war escalates there are heavy casualties on both sides and the heroes are put to the test of their lives, for once being featured in a cosmic epic that lives up to its promise.

I've had a great time reading GREEN LANTERN and GREEN LANTERN CORPS, and it's wondrous to see the scale of a GL story make use of the potential of a whole universe to play in, complete with innumerable alien races on the scene, as well as all of Earth's super-powered badasses showing up to help and looking a bit overwhelmed (to be fair, the home team acquits itself admirably, but the level of extraterrestrial power on display makes them pale a bit in comparison). Even the presence of the Anti-Monitor (yeah, him again), the evil Crisis-displaced Superboy, and that fucking Cyborg Superman actually works, each being used to maximum villainous effect, the Anti- Monitor even rivaling Godzilla for sheer giant monster awesomeness, and that's really saying something considering the guy looks like an ambulatory suet birdfeeder in armor and bondage gear.

But, fun though it was, the Sinestro Corps War does have three big flaws:

1. As is often the case with big crossover events, the majority of what goes on is steeped in decades of superhero soap opera backstory and much of the reader's enjoyment is predicated upon having a solid-or-better working knowledge of the continuity, thereby instantly excluding many potential audience members.

2. As is also often the case with big crossover events, DC saw fit to milk this bestselling cash cow for all it was worth and issued a couple of side-books and one-shots that add nothing to the story and are utterly disposable. I skimmed them, and they don't affect the main epic one bit, but readers not in the know (and completeists) may get sucked in, so caveat emptor.

3. At the end of the whole thing, just when I was ready to sit back and contemplate the best American comic book space epic since Jim Starlin's interconnected CAPTAIN MARVEL and WARLOCK sagas of the 1970's, I turned the page and was greeted with a two-page ad hyping the next big GL crossover arc, "The Blackest Night," due to hit the stands in the summer of 2008. That just hit me as reducing a way cool epic to just another assembly line product with a built-in sequel and attendant satellite books. After the overall awesomeness of the story it just felt to me like DC announcing something too far in advance, something that could have grown organically during the months leading up to it and resulting in a sensible culmination to where the series has been heading since the first issue of the revived GREEN LANTERN series. By way of example, think of what it would have been like if Marvel loudly announced that there was going to be a "Dark Phoenix Saga" a year before it happened; that would have blown a lengthy and rewarding setup and come off as a blatant example of the company's hype-machine setting up expectations that just might not be met with anything worth shelling out the cash to read. Just look at how well 52 and COUNTDOWN turned out...

And as for the endless crossover epics that have become ubiquitous since CRISIS ON INFINITE EARTHS (1985), enough with the shit already! It seems like there's a new "universe-shattering event" every couple of months, most of which suck ass, and, to paraphrase Syndrome, when everything's special, nothing is. So knock it off, for fuck's sake!

Anyway, pick this series up when it's collected (which, knowing DC, will probably be in a couple of weeks), put on "Planet Rock," smoke a few bonghits, and revel in a kickass space opera. RECOMMENDED.

R.I.P. DAN FOGELBERG, SOFT-ROCK TROUBADOR DEAD AT 56

The whole soft-rock genre was never my thing, but if you listened to the radio in the late 1970's and early 1980's its exponents exhibited a fairly strong presence with groups such as the Little River Band and Air Supply wimping up the airwaves. Among these performers was one Dan Fogelberg whom, while I never got with his music, I felt was the least offensive of the bunch because his mellow stylings came off like a guy in an intimate setting relating his stories to a close friend, and as such weren't meant to be the full-on premeditated assaults of wussy treacle perpetrated by his contemporaries. And while I found his "Leader of the Band" to be somewhat vomitous I do have a soft spot for "Same Old Lang Syne," a melancholy tale of two former lovers seeing each other again after many years and sharing a moment of reminiscence, a song that means a lot more to me these days than it ever could have when I first heard it some twenty-six years ago. And now Fogelberg is dead at the unfairly young age of 56, cut down by advanced prostate cancer, not a way anybody should go. The following obit is from this morning's New York Times:

Dan Fogelberg, Lyric Rocker, Dies at 56
By THE ASSOCIATED PRESS
Published: December 17, 2007
Dan Fogelberg, the singer and songwriter whose hits “Leader of the Band” and “Same Old Lang Syne” helped define the soft-rock era, died Sunday at his home in Maine after battling prostate cancer. He was 56.

Mr. Fogelberg learned he had advanced prostate cancer in 2004. In a statement then, he thanked fans for their support. “It is truly overwhelming and humbling to realize how many lives my music has touched so deeply all these years,” he wrote. “I thank you from the very depths of my heart.”

Mr. Fogelberg’s music was powerful in its simplicity. He did not rely on the volume of his voice to convey his emotions; instead, they came through in his soft, tender delivery and his poignant lyrics. Songs like “Same Old Lang Syne,” in which a man reminisces after meeting an old girlfriend by chance during the holidays, became classics not only for his performance, but also for their engaging story lines.

Mr. Fogelberg’s heyday was in the 1970s and early ’80s, when he scored several platinum and multiplatinum records fueled by such hits as “The Power of Gold” and “Leader of the Band,” a touching tribute he wrote to his father, a bandleader. Mr. Fogelberg put out his first album in 1972.

Mr. Fogelberg’s songs tended to have a weighty tone, reflecting on emotional issues in a serious way. But in an interview with The Milwaukee Journal Sentinel in 1997, he said it did not represent his personality.

“That came from my singles in the early ’80s,” he said. “I think it probably really started on the radio. I’m not a dour person in the least. I’m actually kind of a happy person. Music doesn’t really reflect the whole person.

“One of my dearest friends is Jimmy Buffett. From his music, people have this perception that he’s up all the time, and, of course, he’s not. Jimmy has a serious side, too.”

Later in his career, he would write material that focused on the state of the environment, an issue close to his heart.

Mr. Fogelberg’s last album was 2003’s “Full Circle,” his first album of original material in a decade. A year later his cancer was diagnosed, forcing him to forgo a planned tour.

Survivors include his wife, Jean.


Dan Fogelberg in concert (and looking a hell of a lot llike SATURDAY NIGHT LIVE's Kevin Nealon).

A FLASHBACK ON AARON BANKS

Last week in my review of Sonny Chiba's flick THE BODY GUARD I described a ludicrous bit of business tacked on by the film's American distributor that featured footage of real life martial arts masters Bill Louie — whom I described as resembling Freddie Prinze of TV's CHICO AND THE MAN — and Aaron Banks that, while idiotic, is the one moment of true entertainment to be had in all of the misbegotten film's running time. Well, one of my most avid readers, a dear friend and colleague from my days in the Marvel Bullpen, Eliot R. Brown, wrote in with this interesting story about his own true life encounter with Aaron Banks:

Grandmaster Aaron Banks today. The guy may be a senior citizen, but you'd better not fuck with him unless you're across the street and have a gun.

Dear Steve,

Well! Like any good reviewer, it hurts when your stars have feet of clay. But, one thing you mentioned that appeared in The Bodyguard, was a little visit to a dojo where somebody named Aaron Banks was standing...

Ahem... little Eliot was accosted by a hulking Chinese kid in Junior High School. There were 4 of his friends standing behind him, so when I was asked for my wallet -- to check that I really didn't have any money -- the kid swiped my library card. Alright, petty thievery indeed. But it alarmed my mom so much, she enrolled me into a karate class. Now, I wonder to this day just what was going through her mind. Was I to kick and chop my various assailants? It doesn't sound like my mom-- perhaps one of her friends suggested it. Of course, it was Aaron Banks' Karate school.

Anyway, I made my way there, after buying a cool gi at Honda's (23rd Street? Can't remember) and finding his run-down stairway that got me upstairs to the locker room. I really wasn't used to that, but I tried to act cool. In I went, in a very stiff gi into the classroom in that-- no doubt -- very same sleazy Times Square dojo (I don't remember any posters on the walls, but this 1967). At the time, I lived on 45th Street, off Lex., so I probably walked over.

Mr. Banks came in-- looking very much as you describe him (I think he's Jewish), asked a couple of questions, had us line up. He showed us how to really put on our gis just so, how to tie that belt knot the right way-- I quite remember that (and helped my son when he took karate) and then do a bunch of push-ups. I couldn't do mine-- since I'd never done any-- but Mr. Banks didn't seem to mind very much. Then he asked us if any of knew how to "roll." I said I did-- of course, I'd imitated every Jim West, Napoleon Solo and Joe Mannix fight move ever filmed. So, then he said, show us. I just did a shoulder roll. What's funny in retrospect, is that there was a huge, floor to ceiling picture window that overlooked the street at the far end of the dojo and I was rolling right for it. I think I did 4 complete rolls before I realized I was getting a littly carried away.

Again, Mr. Banks didn't seem to mind. He said, not that kind of roll and showed us how to break our falls-- I still remember to this day. He also showed us a proper kick-- I can still picture his toes curled up at an impossible right angle! Then he went on to perform an elaborate kata. And that was it-- out he went, with all the dignity befitting the place's owner.

Then in came the Korean son of a bitch who would actually teach us. He showed us a kata as well. He then said, come attack me. And the rat actually gave us good, hard kicks. Nothing lethal, but hey, I was 10! Of course, we never landed a 'glove' on him. After, he lined us up and had us do a series of punches and kicks. Then, the most fun-- we took turns punching a "makawara" board-- something like a block-shaped lump of sail cloth, supposedly with rice in it. This was to toughen up your knuckles. I got the look of disapproval by punching oddly with my middle two knuckles-- still do.

I think I lasted about four classes-- maybe six. The last class involved breaking boards. Now that was fun. I made it through three boards at once-- when I went up to four, I had learned fear and hesitated too much.

Somewhere there is a picture of me in my full gi-- white belt and all. The lucky bonus of the shot is that the Instamatic that took the pic got my retinas to glow a perfect, demon-haunted red. Ideal! And I still have a killer jump kick-- I actually did learn a lot from that Korean bastard, but hardly ever saw Mr. Banks again.

The next time I saw him, he was a "second" to Bill "Superfoot" Wallace in some big karate tournament that was covered on early TV. I recently heard he's not doing too well-- quite old and didn't save a dime.

I think you're the first person to get this whole story in 35 years!

Eliot