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Author: Thomas Parker

Little Madhouse on the Prairie: Wisconsin Death Trip

Little Madhouse on the Prairie: Wisconsin Death Trip

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Like many of you, I own a lot of books. Like perhaps not quite as many of you, I own a lot of very strange books, among them Aleister Crowley’s autobiography, a volume of Criswell’s predictions, a collection of “poems” by Victor Buono (he was King Tut to Adam West’s Batman; the title of his book is It Could Be Verse), a paranoid little volume called The Enemy Within that showed up one day on every driveway in my neighborhood in a rock-weighted plastic bag, and that blames literally everything bad that’s ever happened on the Jesuits (I’m probably the only person in town who actually read it — God, I hope I’m the only person in town who actually read it), the Exegesis of Philip K. Dick (the Lord talked to Phil, and boy, did they have some weird conversations), the collected works of Charles Fort, several volumes of the Shaver Mystery… it goes on and on.

There is no stranger book on my shelves, though, than Wisconsin Death Trip. Catchy title, huh?

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Roger Corman, April 5, 1926 – May 9, 2024

Roger Corman, April 5, 1926 – May 9, 2024

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Roger Corman, the Godfather of American independent film, is gone. He died at his home in Santa Monica, California, on May 9th. He was ninety-eight.

Legendary both for his cheapness (no one could squeeze more out of a budget than he could) and for his generosity (he gave countless actors, directors, writers, and technical people their first chance in Hollywood), Corman began his almost seventy-year long career in the mid 50’s by directing extremely low-budget movies for the fledgling American International Pictures, most of which were shot in one or two weeks for less than 100,000 dollars. Corman’s understanding of the necessity of ruthless economy on the one hand and of the appetites of his largely teen-aged audience on the other made these films highly successful, and during those early years, that success was perhaps the major factor in establishing AIP as an ongoing concern.

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A Reckless and Unwarranted Speculation on the Origin of a Great Science Fiction Story

A Reckless and Unwarranted Speculation on the Origin of a Great Science Fiction Story

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Alice (James Tiptree Jr.) Sheldon

For many writers, asking them the apparently innocent question, “where do you get your ideas?” is like waving a red flag in front of a bull. (Watch the Harlan Ellison documentary Dreams with Sharp Teeth for a great example; at the very thought of someone posing that question, Ellison goes from zero to apoplexy in 1.2 seconds. I know — Harlan Ellison, but still…)

Nevertheless, as a humble reader to whom the mysteries of creative writing are forever veiled, it’s a question that I’m curious about. Having never met Alice (James Tiptree Jr.) Sheldon, I have no idea how she would have reacted to the question, and I’ll never find out, as she died in 1987… but I think I know the answer for one of her stories, at least.

Alice Sheldon (under the whimsical pseudonym that she and her husband cooked up) was a science fiction writer without peer, and her novella A Momentary Taste of Being, which first appeared in 1975 in the Robert Silverberg-edited anthology The New Atlantis (and later in her own collection Star Songs of an Old Primate and the “Essential Tiptree” anthology Her Smoke Rose Up Forever, which you should buy immediately, forgoing food and rent if necessary), is one of her greatest stories, a radical premise pushed to its absolute limits… and I believe I know where that wild premise came from.

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A Sure Guide in a Troubled Time: Criswell Predicts

A Sure Guide in a Troubled Time: Criswell Predicts

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You don’t need me to tell you that we live in uncertain, unsettled times. (Obviously, that’s not going to stop me from telling you anyway.) Misinformation, disinformation, fake news, biased spins, conspiracy theories, baseless rumors, incendiary knee-jerk tweets disseminated, re-tweeted to further inflame millions, and then deleted in the space of a couple of hours… none of these seem to be affected by labor shortages or supply-chain problems, more’s the pity. The shelves are always fully stocked with this kind of crap.

Thus, the key question of our era seems to be, where can wisdom be found? Is there, anywhere, an infallible guide to light our way through the daily round of bafflement and perplexity that is apparently our permanent lot? Who, in God’s eternal name, who can I trust?! Well, my friends, I’m here to tell you the good news — there is someone you can trust. And who might that be, you ask?

Criswell, that’s who.

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Murder as Comedy, Murder as Fantasy: Unfaithfully Yours

Murder as Comedy, Murder as Fantasy: Unfaithfully Yours

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Of all the subjects for comedy (romantic entanglements, domestic misunderstandings, military SNAFU’s, workplace kerfluffles, political shenanigans, high school hi-jinx etc.), murder might seem one of the least promising. That’s actually not the case, however, as there have been many comedies of homicide, among them Murder He Says, Arsenic and Old Lace, Kind Hearts and Coronets, Monsieur Verdoux, The Trouble with Harry, Murder by Death, and The Ladykillers (watch the wonderful 1955 Ealing Studios version with Alec Guinness, not the woeful 2004 Cohen Brothers misfire with poor, miscast Tom Hanks), to name just a handful. …

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Cruel Yule: The Star Wars Holiday Special and Other Abominations

Cruel Yule: The Star Wars Holiday Special and Other Abominations

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Yes, the desperate search for the table leaf that you chucked into the garage this time last year is over, the turkey that began so hopefully as a young bird just pecking its way out of its shell to greet the gentle breeze and cerulean blue sky is now a masticated mass working its way through your digestive system on its way to an ignominious end (yours!), and every available inch of table and counter space in your kitchen has disappeared under an avalanche of greasy plates and silverware.

My, that was fun, wasn’t it? And you know what that means, don’t you? — it’s almost Christmas!

In addition to the common cultural practices of the season (like sticking an actual tree in your living room, for goodness’ sake), every family has their own peculiar holiday rites and rituals. As I detailed for breathless Black Gate readers many years ago, one of mine is reading a classic ghost story aloud on Christmas Eve, a practice I heartily commend to anyone willing to give it a try. However, if that’s a bit too nineteenth century for you (the effect is largely lost if you’re reading off of an iPhone), I have another, more modern-feeling tradition that might interest you. The only thing is, I wouldn’t wish it on my worst enemy. Around here we call it… Cruel Yule.

To Hell With It

Countless families look forward to the Christmas season because it provides an occasion for watching their favorite holiday movies, timeless films like Miracle on 34th Street, It’s a Wonderful Life, and A Christmas Story. Heartwarming, uplifting, classic treats for all ages they truly are… and I say, the hell with ’em.

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The Sorcerer and the Novelist: W. Somerset Maugham’s The Magician

The Sorcerer and the Novelist: W. Somerset Maugham’s The Magician

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Aleister Crowley

Aleister Crowley, poet, mountaineer, religious mystic and self-proclaimed prophet, member of the Hermetic Order of the Golden Dawn, drug addict, braggart, sexual adventurer, the self-named “Beast 666” and, according to the popular press, “The Wickedest Man in the World,” was one of the most notorious and controversial figures of his era and remains so even today, three quarters of a century after his death.

W. Somerset Maugham, physician, world-traveler, wildly successful playwright (at one time he had four plays appearing in London’s West End theaters simultaneously) and sometime British secret agent, prolific short story writer and novelist, author of such acclaimed works as Of Human Bondage, The Moon and Sixpence, and The Razor’s Edge, was one of the major literary figures of the twentieth century.

These two very different men may seem an unlikely pair, but Maugham met Crowley in Paris in 1905 and (like virtually everyone who encountered the man) was strongly impressed by him. In Maugham’s case the impression was a highly negative one, though he did concede that the occultist had some unique qualities, so much so that he made a thinly-disguised Crowley the central figure in his 1907 novel, The Magician.

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Movie of the Week Madness: Satan’s School for Girls

Movie of the Week Madness: Satan’s School for Girls

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The Devil was one of the biggest success stories of the 1970’s, along with John Travolta, The Eagles, microwave ovens, and the Senate Select Committee on Presidential Campaign Activities. For this you can thank (or blame, if such is your inclination) William Peter Blatty and his runaway best seller The Exorcist, which got the decade off to a hell of a start when it was published in 1971.

Everyone knew that The Exorcist would make it to the silver screen sooner rather than later, and so it was; in 1973 blockbuster novel was followed by blockbuster movie, and the film directed by The French Connection’s William Friedkin became the year’s biggest hit, grossing one hundred and ninety-three million dollars (and that’s in 1970’s money).

However, three months before the premier of The Exorcist another film appeared that is, to my mind, the definitive celluloid treatment of the Fallen Angel and his diabolical dealings with Middle America. On September 19th, 1973, the ABC Movie of Week granted us a true glimpse of the abyss; during the seventy-eight-minute running time of Satan’s School for Girls, viewers truly knew what it was like to be one of the damned.
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So Many Choices, So Little to Choose

So Many Choices, So Little to Choose

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Old Man Rant, take one. Lights, camera, Action!

Ask anyone who really knows and loves movies — what was the greatest decade in the history of American film? You will get many different answers, depending on the respondent’s preferences and degree of familiarity with the films of the past.

The familiarity part is essential, of course; without it you may think that the latest entry in the Fast and Furious franchise is the Greatest Movie You’ve Ever Seen, and tragically, you’ll probably be right. (That kind of presentism is why I can’t stand The Ringer’s popular Rewatchables podcast, which I should love, being movie-obsessed as I am; even when they’re talking about a film I like, the unspoken, always-lurking assumption that cinema didn’t exist before Star Wars drives me up the wall.)

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Living Large: Bert I. Gordon 1922-2023

Living Large: Bert I. Gordon 1922-2023

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Bert I. Gordon, one of the filmmakers most beloved by “monster kids” everywhere, has died, departing this shabby, low-budget set we call earth for the big Premier in the Sky on March 8th. He was one hundred years old, prompting thousands to say, “He was still alive?!”

Producer, director, and screenwriter, Gordon was a key figure in the Saturday afternoon matinee and late-night television viewing of generations of people who are now looked at askance by all who know them, and the litany of the films he directed is a popcorn-gobbling adolescent’s delight: King Dinosaur (1955), The Cyclops, The Amazing Colossal Man, Beginning of the End (all 1957), Earth vs. the Spider, War of the Colossal Beast, Attack of the Puppet People (all 1958), The Magic Sword (1962), Village of the Giants (1965), The Food of the Gods (1976), and Empire of the Ants (1977) are the high points, such as they are. …

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