In Search of Patrick

This week has been interesting, and I kept coming along to the same question
day after day--
Would I ever be able to discover the true identity
of a curious artist I recently encountered in some 70's magazines?

Mais OUI!

Oui Magazine August, 1975

Currently I am documenting Oui Magazine content
and have been so caught up in discovering the parallels
of that time to this one,
it's as though America is stuck in a time warp...
government has resolved nothing, Mexico is still having drug wars,
women are still posing nude...oh, blast it, never mind all that!
...no, I don't normally actually say blast it in general conversation,
but now I may have to.

My intent in posting today has nothing to do with politics,
or blasting,
but everything to do with art.
I am amazed at the quality of work often found in these magazines.
To my delight, I discover new talent within every monthly installment.
My online searches are building up
as I pore over all information I can find.
This, in process, stalls my listing times considerably,
due to the inherent curiosity I cannot rid myself of.

I read, and fill my eyes and multiple brain-tummies
(tumors, they must be tumors the way they eat!),
filling them with imagery, getting closer to the truth,
or running into dead-ends,
or finding other equally interesting artists to swoon over.

Every day in discovery is Thanksgiving.
Without conclusions, without closure, I am often left feeling
as though I am too stuffed with inconclusive data
to be allowed to have my just desserts.
Today is my day for sweet potato pie.

Recent attempts to catalogue brought me once again to the hunt.

One artist, especially, caught my eye,
and the scrawled signature left at least a cryptic clue.


Searches for Patrick yielded little,
and I continued from OUI 1975 on into OUI 1977
wending my way through stories, and illustrations
some easily found
or readily known
yet still no clue to patrick.
And here in 1977,  I find another clue.
An unsigned work in the October issue with a credit to Patrick Byrne.
Aha! I surmise......

scanned from 10/77 oui (click to enlarge)

this woeful face of a Tampa Bay Buccaneer
can only be the work of the same Patrick....

and do I ever remember that era of NFL football

The Bucs, Saints, Chiefs and Jets were pitiful, 

the Cowboys did not play on Thanksgiving this year, 

but won SuperBowl XII!  

....but back to
Patrick Byrne.

Imagine my joy at finding this image on John Patrick Byrne's site

stolen from johnbyrneart.com (click to enlarge)

Plus, finding this delightful conversation
from 2008 with Mr. Byrne by Jennie Renton.

I gotta say, this gentleman is one talented motherfucker!
Sure, I cringe to think that's the best way I can put it....
I can do better than that....
Patrick is the Bomb!
A true artist in every sense of the word....
artist, author, playwright,
That I had never heard of him is a testament to just how uncultured I truly am.

 In any event, the search for provenance,
the hunt for value, the love for the content,
keeps me in prolonged discovery mode.

 I really like that.

Paul Krassner scanned from 8/75 Oui (click to enlarge)

Is it just me, or does this image seem rather personal?
I was immediately caught up in every facial nuance,
each word and object curiously exhibited...
This is interesting art
of and by a couple of
devilishly clever men.

Fill Me Up, I'm Hungry

Words provide rich nourishment for my mind.
On nearly equal footing are Music and Art.
I say nearly, although both Art and Music
may be far superior to words by many accounts.
Today, for my own mind, words are where it's at.

Words can describe the painting or
define the melancholy of a certain melody
within the lyrics (when provided).
Harmonics bring forth words unspoken
yet distinctly heard ...
within those layers of sound
emerges a distinct vocabulary.
Words bring clarity or ambiguity
dependent on the skill of the writer.

Word paintings are three-fold in that musically they are lyrics
meant to match the tone of the tunes they accompany.
(see tone or text painting)
In writing, they are a fusing of words to represent the visual narrative.
In art they are literally paintings of words...
or they are paintings created with words.

stolen from the www ( I forgot to mark the page)

Words are succulent.
Placed within sentences words fairly drip
with imprecision, nuance, thought, and meaning.
All ajumble, or all alone, words serve.
They are our own personal Maitre D's
ready and willing to attend to the literate among us.

There is a saying that a picture paints a thousand words...
and I say each word mimics another word,
another thought,
another entity,
another eternity within those paintings and songs of life.

If I could cook a book and eat it
I would surely do so.

image stolen from xelgend.blogspot.com

No need for garlic or peppers,
gravies, onions, icings or aspics...
it's all the tastiest of words
within the book
(if well-written)
which will serve to sustain me.

From the earliest light juvenile snacks
of "run, Spot, run."
and "Mr. Brown Can Moo, Can You?"
to the bloated gluttony of "The Stand" (revised)
or "The Fountainhead"
Each word  has made their mark
within the 17 or thereabouts stomachs of my mind.....

.....often resulting in puffy cushions for what amounts to collections within
and often about lowly tripe.

This will never deter me
from seeking the final chapter,
the eloquent fait accompli...
indeed, the last word
of my reader's quest for fulfillment.

I fear I suffer from a little-known and seldom-documented malady
dissociative reader disorder.
I cannot help but separate myself from the words
only to rejoin and embrace them.
Nor can I distinguish between the frail and feeble
always lurking amongst the hale and hearty.
These words can steer me straight to panic
or lull me into a sense of cocoon-like comfort
(or is that really me just trying to hide from reality?)
I'll never really know...
I am my own worst contradiction;
yet without this knowledge of self
and the desire to extricate a life from it
piece by piece, word by word
I would have little left to live for.

Thank you, dear words...for your sustenance.

McMurtry Fails to Deliver

My review of Books by Larry McMurtry

(2 stars)

This is a book I CAN put down rather easily. It has no "juice".

Reminds me of an inferior iteration of a W.S. Burroughs cut-up job, randomly incomplete snippets of a bookman's life.  I'm about halfway through Books and I am finding it quite lacking on so many levels.  McMurtry just gets started with something of interest, and poof, he moves on to something else, almost fascinating, only to leave his reader once again in the dust.  It's maddening. Of course I can't stop reading it right in the middle so I will continue through to the end, although I know I will regret losing another hour to finish it.

Learning of his early upbringing with no books in the house, I was hooked.  When he begins to tell of his growing passion for books, and his fear that this would be a narrative of interest only to others with a similar passion, I became excited to read more.  McMurty does not deliver. Rather than holding my attention and awe, I find "books" to have devolved after the first few chapters into something quite dreadful and boring.

An author with the ability to write as McMurtry does has cheated an audience he alone might have held in the palm of his hand.  Rather than caress fellow bookmen like some fine leather tome he might hold in high regard, he has relegated us to the remainder pile, covers removed...no love at all.  It is a shame, as I am certain the depth of his real life in books is far more interesting than the poorly rendered skin of what he has provided here.

I noticed McMurtry split up his memoirs into 3 parts. Reeks of over-commercialism, and I already feel like it won't be worth the time to read the other 2.  After reading the reviews for those, I definitely won't purchase either of them.

How Long Will Modern Last?

Hopefully longer than this:

I've been looking in some of the boxes of magazines I've got stored around here, and ran across a group of House & Garden Magazines from the 1960's. Interestingly, my husband and I had just watched the movie Gangster Number 1 featuring Malcolm McDowell which takes place largely during the 1960's. We were both commenting on the decor, and clothing styles, and I remembered these magazines, so decided to list them. (The movie exhibits shades of brilliance, but it was a lame duck by end).

The question at hand: How Long Will Modern Last? really got me thinking. Modern has so many connotations, although in a literal sense, it's all about today.

We've got Modern architecture that seems to survive the test of time, so long as the materials used in building are not of inferior quality.  All too often, this was not the case.

Then there's Modern art...which resembles Modern Architecture in no way shape or form except on rare occasions, and also stands the test of time especially when inferior materials or perceptions were involved.

As for Modern Fiction, I have no ideas as to what date signifies the beginning of Modern, but I do know that it is being churned out day in and day out and altogether too much of it by inferior minds and methods.  The modern book is not a book, but some electronic file supported by a gizmo which can store a plethora of modernity.

ooh baby, that's what I call mod!

All of these observations from a self-proclaimed solipsist, mind you....at least for today, if the modern today actually exists.

$7.95 True Book Bonus?

Here's another fine example of how I get caught up in the articles of these intriguing "Girly Mags" I've subjected myself to.

First off, this is probably one of my favorite things about old magazines: The funky old advertisements. Judy or Susan for only $19.95.  Your own personal Love Maid. Let us not diminish the value of a free 10-day trial. ...so wrong on so many levels but hey, what a bargain!

The ($7.95) title article in question is found in the June, 1976 magazine known as MALE. Male? Why would anybody name a magazine which presents naked females "MALE". Sounds more like a good title for gay male perusal, which surprisingly holds no interest for me, since I don't much care about looking at a bunch of posturing penises or is that penii? (not that there's anything wrong with that). Not only is this MALE, but THE NEW EXCITING MALE: more girls, more color, more action, same price. ($1.00) Was that expensive by 1976 standards?

One stinking dollar for a magazine that splashes a cover blurb about this $7.95 true book bonus which turns out to be not altogether true. Yes, it gives me a good chuckle to read this, and to see the other articles within. There is just so much fodder for my sallied scrutiny; I am giddy with anticipation of how to denigrate this "mildly pornographic" realm which I am also quite admittedly endeared to.

The Flesh Hijackers written by C.K. Winston is all about "typical" criminal activity, gun-play, heroes and victims. The perps in question purportedly planned purloining the transport "Diana" while in prison. Psychologists agree: plot planning is a popular prisoner pastime.  Did they really almost get away with over
a million in cash from the armored truck sitting like a dead duck while being ferried across from Victoria to Vancouver only to be foiled by some private dick who happened to figure out what was what and thwarted their efforts?  Highly doubtful.

I cannot find anything about the artist who created this highly imaginative image, which relates none whatsoever to the story at hand. The title "Flesh Hijackers" is obviously a ruse, meant to titillate. The editor's note at the end of this true story fantasy mentions the alteration of names, places and situations (to protect the innocent).

Is $7.95 the actual amount they paid the author to create this bit of fluff? I'd say he was severely over-paid! I don't quite understand what $7.95 has to do with any of this, but there it is for you to speculate upon as well. We aim to serve.

Another article entitled "Sex Lives of Stock Car Groupies" by Kevin Burke promises tales of High Speed Spills and Orgasms. I think I'll use the protecting the innocent clause here and decline to read it, effectively protecting myself and you, dear reader, from wanting to choke me for wasting our collective time on such drivel.

Perhaps the article by Ron Layton (or Robert LaGuardia?) about the Meanest General in the U.S. Army (James F. Hollingsworth) is a de-facto contrivance (much like this blog), with bona-fides all propped up pretty in a row; perhaps not. Maybe the Trucker "Mob" Who Took Over Nevada's Brothel Row as told by Ken Lanier to Martin Crawford will be as thrilling as the accompanying art by Bruce Minny. I'll have to leave that up to someone else to determine. For now, I am all tapped out on the "MALE" Magazine Volume 26 Number 5 point of view.

My motto is: If it makes you laugh, it is well worth any amount of time we've spent entertaining thoughts of humour, making light of self and situation, or general silliness on the whole. Yep, that's my motto for today....

Trials of a Software Dimwit

You know, I've tried several database software styles
to house my inventory descriptions,
and I still tend to use different ones for different venues.
Not sure why that is, but it may have something to do
with past experiences losing data,
and the ease with which those venues were able
to assist me in regaining data to "ahem" start anew!

Oh, you name it, I've lost it, and more than once!

Anyway, I started out storing all documentation in simple formats
using notepad.
Yes, notepad.

Whenever a so-called friend tried to send me some excel file
I was promptly negated from opening said file,
because I didn't have the proper software.
I knew nothing of spreadsheets and what I didn't know couldn't hurt me,
so I had no desire to delve into finding out what they were,
or how they could help me.
That was probably mistake number one.

Once I learned a bit about html, I began to store my listings in wordpad.
Of course, I'd manage to format or encrypt things unintentionally,
and my data would turn into gibberish.

An omen of things to come, and par for the course!

Later, after several years of hunting, I gained an inventory of sorts
and graduated to Homebase for storing my inventory files.
I've stuck with that for a very long time,
but somehow managed to lose my entire inventory documentation,
well...because I'm an idiot.

Aside from that, I found that some venues can reverse feed you
a tab delimited or csv file and provide at least a complete record
of what books remained on their venue.
Not too bad for an individual like myself
who has Murphy following me around with his
terrible law of unintended consequences.

Bookhound become available at no cost through Biblio.com
so I created a duplicate inventory within that program in order to test it out.
I found it to be more trouble than it was worth,
and never gained much interest in trying to manipulate
all of the varying features of Bookhound.
I stuck with Homebase and the simple tools it had to offer.

A few years ago I found that Google Docs has free software,
and spreadsheets are a part of their tableau,
so I attempted to transfer some files into spreadsheet format
for a specific site (eCrater) which seemed to request this type of file.
Suffice to say that Murphy was still there hiding in my back pocket,
and I found nothing redeeming in spreadsheet manipulation.
I may have been doing it right,
but the venue was not going to take what I was trying to offer
as acceptable inventory through those spreadsheet experiments.
I did not enjoy the process, but I did learn a little about spreadsheets,
and I do find them useful for other organizing processes.

Still, I had my trusty Homebase
and diligently backed it up each time I revised anything there,
while still on the quest to find software which is relatively cheap
or free
that can do more than just hold the inventory and create simple reports.
I had been looking into scanning software, but they all seemed so expensive!

Shortly after the spreadsheet fiasco I ran across Readerware.
After a free 30 day trial I was very happy to buy a Cuecat
and scan the many thousands of modern generic paperbacks I had by now obtained
into my Readerware database.
Half the battle was fought and won by dint of a simple to use scanning device
coupled with this very versatile software program.
I can create any number of report templates
and have fully formatted webpages using any number of parameters of my choosing.
I have barely scratched the surface of what this program has to offer,
but it has helped me tremendously more than any other database software I have tried.
I would love to write more about Readerware, but I've got work to do.

If you are curious, I strongly recommend you try the free 30 day trial version.

The more I experiment with this program, the more I find to like about it.
It's rather amazing to me, especially with my past history of losing data,
or stumbling and fumbling through.
Get it.
You won't be sorry!

Entertainment for Men

Of all the sexist marketing ploys, this has got to be at the top of the list. Playboy has used the blurb "ENTERTAINMENT FOR MEN" forever, and it appears on the spine edge of their magazines since they got rid of the staples in October of 1985. (Venice Kong was the last Playmate to be pierced in such a manner).



Why does Playboy consider itself entertainment for men? I am certainly no man, but I find the magazine to be highly entertaining! Maybe not as entertaining as Hustler Magazine, but definitely plenty of enjoyment to be found among the pages, no matter if your X or Y chromosomes dominate.

It's amazing what some people will say in their Playboy interviews. It's almost as if there is a certain attitude that goes along with being interviewed for a "Girly Mag"--and inhibitions tend to go out the window. Perhaps that is more directly attributable to the interviewer's finesse with the questions, but sometimes a little too much information leaks out, and then there's hell to pay. Of course, President Jimmy Carter immediately comes to mind...but then again, Val Kilmer is in trouble for his comments in Rolling Stone and Esquire, but I don't think he's ever been interviewed by Playboy. Imagine the horrible things he would have said to them about his home state of New Mexico.

That's all I've got for today...but I sure wish Playboy would change their tagline to "Entertainment for People"