Year: 2006

Don’t call them trailer trash

In my part of Orange County, affordable housing is rare. One of the disappearing features of the landscape is the trailer park. We used to have quite a few around here but one by one they’re disappearing to be replaced with more familiar suburban things like parking lots and office buildings. The one down the street from me exists solely because the land is owned by a family that is resistant to change and has lots of money already, for example.

Until recently there was a trailer park on the campus of UC Irvine, where my father was charter faculty in 1965. The University, being college administrators, needed a new parking lot, so off it went. But not after some spirited student resistance from ornery and inventive graduate students!

A film has been made of the last days of Irvine Meadows West: http://trailerparkfilm.com/

I recommend seeing the trailer. It’s a bit hippiebongoburningman but gives a good idea of the scene. One of my college friends from the 80s, Maggie Sullivan, was involved in this scene but I don’t see her in the trailer. I mean the movie trailer, not the actual trailers in the movie about trailers.

It’s a mallomar, i guess that’s what i’m describing

Where the worlds of pants-filling terror and head-throbbing annoyance meet: ACTION MOVIE MARKETING:

SANTA CLARITA, Calif. (AP) — A newspaper promotion for Tom Cruise’s upcoming “Mission: Impossible III” got off to an explosive start when a county arson squad blew up a news rack, thinking it contained a bomb.

The confusion: the Los Angeles Times rack was fitted with a digital musical device designed to play the “Mission: Impossible” theme song when the door was opened. But in some cases, the red plastic boxes with protruding wires were jarred loose and dropped onto the stack of newspapers inside, alarming customers…

BUILDING A PLATFORM TO HERCULES

My favorite insane cult from the 1980s is the CHURCH UNIVERSAL AND TRIUMPHANT, led by Elizabeth Clare Prophet. Her books were in the weirdo section and I was always fascinated. There was something about St. Germain, and new Christian prophecies, and aliens, and everything.

Like everyone else they had a compound. Theirs was by Yellowstone and they stockpiled weapons waiting for the inevitable pseudo-Christian apocalyptic disaster.

Ms. Prophet had a unique preaching style, and fortunately a recording of one service at least survives. This is from my 20th birthday! Many of you will have heard one of these tracks (“invocation for Judgement”) because it’s an attack on rock music that lists a long series of popular bands in 1984 that must be destroyed, and are comically mispronounced (Cindy Looper, etc.).

Decree 12.10 is only for completists, as it’s basically 27:57 of deranged cattle auctioneer/martian hoedown/speaking in tongues. The others are great though. If you just get one, get #4, the Great Divine Rector’s Call. Please download rather than streaming, and mirror if you want to share.

The Sounds of American Doomsday Cults: The Church Universal and Triumphant

  1. Dedication To The Tackling Of The Beast And The Dragon — The Momentum Of Rock’n’roll
  2. Call For Protection
  3. Video Shorts With Two Announcements (Excerpt)
  4. Preamble — Great Divine Rector’s Call
  5. Invocation For Judgement Against And Destruction Of Rock Music
  6. Decree 12.10
  7. Decree 10.05

America’s Mom Speaks

George Dubbya Bush you come here this instant. I am talking to you. Now. Do I have to count to ten?

Now look at me when I’m talking to you. Not over there, here. Look at me.

You are out of chances. The day is over. Pack away your toys and we are leaving this White House right now like I promised before. Remember? Remember when we had that agreement? Don’t you lie to me. Look at me. Now put those toys in the bag and come out of that White House and don’t give me any more of that attitude and sass.

I said look at me when I’m talking to you.

You have lied, and cheated, and invaded, and stolen, and given my things to your friends without my permission, and written notes for yourself at school with my name on them, and there is to be no more of that. You are going to go to your room for a good long time and think about what you’ve done, and we’re not bringing you back to this White House again. You hear me?

You. Are. Grounded. And I don’t want to hear any more of that crying or I’m going to have to give you something to cry about.