The Proxy Intelligence And Other Mind Benders - A E van Vogt

 THE PROXY INTELLIGENCE AND OTHER MIND BENDERS - A E VAN VOGT

Of all the books in all the world, why choose to read one above another? There are probably as many reasons as there are books but it's a question I often ponder, particularly after finishing a book and am wondering what next to read? Why do I choose to read, for example, The Proxy Intelligence And Other Mind Benders by A E van Vogt over, for example, Borstal Boy by Brandan Behan? I have both books on my shelf so why choose one above the other? 

In a way, the answer can be very simple though it comes with provisos: Instinct. It's instinctive. It's essentially just giving way to natural attraction and following the heart. You simply block out all external influence so the decision is wholly yours. 

And how did I end up even owning a copy of this book by A E van Vogt in the first place? Well, it's one I found in a second-hand bookshop and among the hundreds of other sci-fi books in there, I just beamed in on this one along with a few others. Grabbing while the going was good. The title was ambiguous and the cover art sort of proto-psychedelic, and as we all know: to fathom hell or soar angelic you need a pinch of psychedelic. So I went for it.

A E van Vogt is a major name when it comes to science-fiction writers and apparently was a big influence upon Philip K Dick. His writing has a hallucinatory quality about it. Very dream-like. In fact at times it's almost child-like due to the sometimes lack of formal structure. There is lineage but it sometimes comes across as having been written in tiny chunks, a paragraph a day with there sometimes being a disconnect. It can be like reading a join-the-dot picture.

The Proxy Intelligence And Other Mind Benders is a collection of six short stories written by van Vogt, all previously published in various science-fiction magazines during the Forties, Fifties and Sixties. What they're all actually about is probably of little significance. I mean, I'm not even sure what all of them are about and I've read them! 

The point of the stories instead, it seems to me, is the experience. It's a bit like those holidays you can take where you can get to swim with dolphins. There's no real meaning in swimming with dolphins so instead the experience is all. Though that's not to say this collection of short stories should be compared to a pod of dolphins because they're not as beautiful as that. If anything, I'd compare them to a school of fish. A hover of trout. Swimming under ice.

And is it just me, or after reading A E van Vogt are you meant to be left feeling a bit woozy?

John Serpico

Mr. Mojo - A Biography Of Jim Morrison - Dylan Jones

 MR. MOJO - A BIOGRAPHY OF JIM MORRISON -

DYLAN JONES

Dylan Jones is certainly a writer of repute, so much so that he's even been awarded an OBE for services to publishing. A major blot in his copybook, however, is that he wrote that book on David Cameron, imaginatively titled 'Cameron On Cameron'. I guess he deserves some kind of award though, simply for having spent time alone with Cameron and not ending up wanting to do away with him and feeding him to the pigs, as suggested by Brick Top, the gangster in Snatch when offering advice on the best way to dispose of a body.

Did you see what I did there? Linking David Cameron immediately to pigs? But enough about public school rituals, how about about linking Cameron to Jim Morrison of The Doors? Is there a commonality between the two apart from the Dylan Jones connection? Well, practically everyone in Jones' book on Morrison, again imaginatively titled Mr. Mojo - A Biography Of Jim Morrison, relays how Morrison was an extremely unlikeable character. So there's that for a start. In fact, the main thrust of Jones' book is one long exercise in character assassination to such an extent that the only people with anything good to say about Morrison are those who didn't actually know him. His fans for example, on their never-ending pilgrimage to his grave in Paris.

On reading Dylan Jones' book on Jim Morrison I'm left wondering what the point of it is? Was it written not to praise but to bury the legend? The answer is unequivocally in the affirmative. There are just too many quotes to attribute them individually but they're all along the lines of how Morrison was 'an asshole'. There are comments about his permanent body odour, of how 'common sense appeared to elude him', of how he might have been a pop genius but how he was also an 'amateur human being'. Comments are also made about him being 'a brat' and how 'humility was a trait which didn't sit well with Morrison'.

There are anecdotes about how backstage after concerts Morrison would flick lighted cigarettes at groupies and demand oral sex regardless of who was watching, as well as countless anecdotes in regard to his drunkenness.

'He was an alcoholic, plain and simple,' confirms the then-Elektra Records label Vice President Steve Harris 'It wasn't because of the pressure - if times were good he drank, if times were bad he drank. If the sun was shining he drank, if it was raining he drank. It was as simple as that. And yes, he was obnoxious. Some people are sweet drunks, but Jim was a redneck - gross, obnoxious and rude. You couldn't tell him anything; he was a complete sociopath.' 

And these are all things said, it should be stressed, by Morrison's friends.

Grace Slick offers a compliment but even then it's a backhanded one: 'He was a well-built boy,' she says 'His cock was slightly larger than average, and he was young enough to maintain the engorged silent connection right through the residue of chemicals that can threaten erection.'

Dylan Jones cuts to the chase, however, in his death by a thousand cuts strategy by letting us know that when asking for a blow job, Morrison would say 'Suck my mama'. I mean, do we really need to know this? I guess so.

If pop music is indeed an open prison for the maladjusted then Morrison was one of its primary inmates whose shadow still looms over us to this day. The issue here is that if we didn't have such people stepping up to take one for the team then we'd all still be listening to Glenn Miller and his Orchestra or the modern-day equivalent thereof.

Personally, I want my pop stars to be bloodied but unbowed with 'Gimme a fix' carved into their chest ala Sid Vicious. I want them sleeping in an oxygen tent at night and having sex with their pet monkey ala Michael Jackson. I want them driving their television sets into swimming pools and throwing their Rolls Royces' out of their hotel windows. I want intelligence, insight and beauty just as I want dumbness, stupidity and pug-ugliness. And personally, I want Jim Morrison even with all his 'asshole' behaviour, his rubbish poetry and his ego in leather trousers. I want the world, basically, as Morrison once sang. And I want it now. 

Though just to be clear, I can do without the David Cameron-types who whilst basking in unearned privilege try their utmost to bring rack and ruin to everything for everybody else. I only wish Dylan Jones had done as good a hatchet job on Cameron than he has on Morrison. Still, at least he got his OBE.

John Serpico

Heart Beat - My Life with Jack And Neal - Carolyn Cassady

 HEART BEAT - MY LIFE WITH JACK AND NEAL - CAROLYN CASSADY

Carolyn Cassady - wife of Neal Cassady, the Dean Moriarty of Jack Kerouac's 'On The Road' - puts her two penn'orth in on the subject of the Beats and I for one welcome it. The problem I have with Heart Beat - My Life With Jack And Neal, however, is the cover. I mean, isn't that one of the worst book covers you've seen in your life? It's almost like it was intentionally designed to put anyone off even being seen dead with this book in their hands. Look at it. I presume it was published as a tie-in for the movie of the same name starring Nick Nolte, Sissy Spacek and John Heard? A movie I've not seen, I might add, but am now determined to watch just to find out if it could possibly be as bad as it looks.

The Beats was always a bit of a boys' club but with that much homosexuality running through it, it should hardly be surprising. Allen Ginsberg and William Burroughs were always rampant when it came to man-love but did Kerouac and Dean Cassady ever have 'relations'? I'm not sure, but it's obvious they were but a cigarette paper away from it. As a sort of surrogate love, in stepped Carolyn Cassady who evidently loved both her husband and Kerouac equally and so with good intentions slept with both.

Presumably ménage à trois' and polyamorous relationships have always been with us since time immemorial but to read about the one taking place between Kerouac and Neal and Carolyn Cassady in America of 1952 is heart-warming particularly because the usual depiction of Fifties America is as a decade of anti-communist, ultraconservatism.

Unfortunately, Heart Beat is slim pickings though the fact that it's written from a woman's point of view from within the inner circle of the original Beat writers lends a currency to what is revealed. Taking up a relationship with Kerouac whilst he's living at the Cassady's house is not only encouraged by her husband but fully enabled by him. Neal Cassady was quite the cuckold. The outcome, however, is complicated because everything is unspoken and whilst true feelings are on display it's obvious that Neal is the lynch-pin and both Kerouac and Carolyn bend to his mood swings.

Of possibly more interest to the keen Beat aficionado are the letters reproduced throughout the book between Allen Ginsberg, Kerouac and both the Cassadys. There's one in particular from Ginsberg to Neal and Carolyn where after receiving a copy of the completed manuscript of On The Road, Ginsberg is fuming and accusing Kerouac of self-sabotage: 'It's a holy mess,' he writes 'It's great all right but he did everything he could to fuck it up with a lot of meaningless bullshit. Page after page of surrealist free association doesn't make sense to anybody. I don't think it can be published anywhere in its present state. Why is he tempting rejection and fate? Fucking spoiled child. He done fuck up his writing money-wise and also writing-wise.'

On The Road, of course, went on to be recognized as - if not a work of genius - a work of huge importance. Ginsberg's criticism and rejection of the manuscript, however, hit Kerouac hard. So much so, in fact, that according to another letter written a little after to the Cassadys, Kerouac hinted at withdrawing from writing and even withdrawing from the world forever.

Luckily for us, Kerouac changed his mind and went on to write a series of books that came to define a generation. It's probably fair to say, even, that without Kerouac's influence the world wouldn't be quite the same culturally as it is today. Without his influence, Carolyn Cassady would certainly never have written Heart Beat, and that in itself would be a shame because if we can forget about the cover for a moment, it's actually a pretty enjoyable read.

John Serpico

Zerox Machine - Matthew Worley

ZEROX MACHINE -

PUNK, POST-PUNK AND FANZINES IN BRITAIN -

1976 - 88 -

MATTHEW WORLEY

Just as flyers and posters advertising concerts of the punk rock kind are ephemeral creations with but a singular purpose so too are fanzines also ephemeral though their purpose is manifold. Punk was always a myriad and diverse culture and therein was always its great strength which means anyone who cares to discuss such things, in a bid to find meaning they often end up rendering safe that which once enamoured and enthralled. For some, punk is a very uncomplicated affair and is easily described and even easier to understand and that's fair enough because - just as it can be for those who think punk is one of the most fascinating of cultures - even a basic understanding of it can be life-changing, life-affirming and worth its weight in gold. Likewise for fanzines.

For some, the fanzine medium is a very simple, very basic, almost primitive one but for others it's nothing less than a representation of the world turned upside down. Fanzines are history as recorded from below. They are the corpuscles in the bloodstream. An antidote to the mainstream. They are fragments of dream from a whisper to a scream. If as William Burroughs once opined, that language is a virus from outer space then a fanzine can not only be (as Tim Medlock of Bristol's 'Be Bad Be Glad' zine said) "a means to raise cash for booze" but also a form of biological warfare with the dominant culture.

For anyone who's ever written a fanzine, however much it might appear to be of little significance, the actuality of it is that in doing so it has fed into the great river flowing into the ocean of cultural fecundity, which in itself is nothing less than the expression of humankind that sets us apart from the rest of the animal kingdom. Creativity is the spark that starts with scratches on the stone wall of the cave and proceeds to a rocket being launched to the stars. 'Art' isn't the right word for it as art comes laden with multiple contradictions. The only contradiction in creativity is that it's a destructive urge but then as arch anarchist Mikhail Bakunin said, you have to destroy in order to create. So right there is the perfect balance. The perfect totality. The perfect and authentic source of all things.

Of course, all of this that I'm writing here reads as just so much hyperbole in regard to what is essentially a few scraps of paper held together by some staples. And yes, that is exactly what most fanzines have always been but in that simplicity is a purity and on occasion that purity can be transcended, turning a fanzine into an inspired slither of inspiration. A fanzine can enthuse. It can excite. It can empower. It can move the reader to action.

One of the most well-known examples of this is 'Sideburns' fanzine from 1977 and its drawing of three guitar chords with the added words: 'This is a chord. This is another. This is a third. Now form a band'.

Who knows how many teenagers on reading that in their bedrooms were moved to start a band? Another subliminal message underneath, however, was even more powerful, made clear by simply having the imagination to change the word 'chord' to 'fanzine' as in: 'This is a fanzine. This is another. This is a third. Now write your own'.

Matthew Worley spent eight years writing Zerox Machine - Punk, Post-Punk And Fanzines In Britain 1976-88, and after ploughing through acres of tiny print that fanzines are notorious for, I hate to imagine the state of his eyes now. So has going half-blind been worth it? Well, seeing as how this is the most comprehensive book on the subject of fanzines that I've ever read, then I would say 'Yes. Without any question'. Matthew's book is definitive. For anyone interested but with little knowledge in regard to fanzines, Matthew's book is the go-to. For those already au fait with the subject there's an overload of information for your delectation here. So much so in fact that if you've ever written a fanzine between the allotted years as said in the title, there's a good chance you've been given a mention or if not you personally then the name of your zine. Hell, even my name is in there. Zerox Machine is comprehensive, to say the least.

Most people would probably agree that Mark Perry's 'Sniffin' Glue' fanzine is the touchstone and the point at which all this zine malarkey began although as Matthew rightly points out 'The fanzines produced through punk had tangled roots'. Sniffin' Glue was Mark Perry's response to the sudden sense of freedom that punk offered though apart from creating a fanzine (even if a seminal one) the question quickly arose as to what to do with that freedom? Pointed to the exit and given the keys it became apparent that freedom and even life itself is not black-and-white.

Punk was a freedom in itself of course even if it was only the freedom of the playground in between the tedium of the school lessons, and it was this freedom that Ripped & Torn zine revelled in. On a personal note, Ripped & Torn was where I first read about Crass in a review of their Feeding Of The 5000 EP, that in hindsight was a significant event not only for myself but also for Ripped & Torn's editor, Tony Drayton. 'This album's gonna split punk in two - those in it for the right reasons, and those who aren't', Tony wrote - and he was right.

Inspired also by the Crass phenomenon, Mike Diboll's 'Toxic Grafity' zine blew a hole in the fabric of fanzine production and expanded massively the potential for both political and mental liberation. Likewise for Tony Drayton's other zine 'Kill Your Pet Puppy', particularly his 'Ants/Tuinal/Crass' edition. These are some of the zines that Zerox Machine highlights as being significant players, and I'd agree. It begs the question, however, about what actually makes for a significant and successful fanzine? Is it a large readership? A transition from underground to overground? Transformation to hard covers? The truth of the matter is that there is no precise definition because once you begin thinking in terms of 'success' it means you've lost grip of the rope attached to the rising balloon you're hanging onto. It's the 'Withnail And I' analogy all over again but rather than selling hippy wigs in Woolworths you're selling product to be consumed rather than bullets from the front line and cultural missives from the heartland. 

Distribution and availability is important although it's not the be-all and end-all as just because something is easily available, it doesn't mean it's any good - and vice versa. These highlighted zines such as Sniffin' Glue, Toxic Grafity, and Kill Your Pet Puppy somehow found their way to Bristol where I was growing up so that's how I was encountering them although other significant ones that Zerox Machine also highlights such as Jamming! and Anathema and even Alan McGee's Communication Blur didn't make it there so they passed me by. A zine such as Bristol's 'Are You Scared To Get Happy?' on the other hand was obviously on my doorstep and is another that is highlighted as being a significant player and rightly so. In fact for the record, I'd say Are You Scared To Get Happy is one of my most favourite zines ever.

It's obvious from reading Zerox Machine that the subject of 'fanzines' is a huge one and as a book it offers much to think about and to discuss. Every other page opens up a new topic to explore in regard to notions of creativity, culture, punk rock and its diaspora, alternative politics, and - of course - music and the role it plays within society and in the life of the individual. 

There are insights galore into fanzines you've probably never heard of but will want to read after Matthew's synopsis of them. I knew nothing, for example, about the zine Final Straw and the arrests that followed its publication. And to my shame, I've never read a copy of 'anti-zine' Monitor either. There are names dotted about throughout Zerox Machine that are familiar such as Martin Fry (of ABC) Mike Scott (of The Waterboys), Miki Berenyi (of Lush), Fatboy Slim, Ian Astbury (of The Cult), Dave Haslam, Steve Lamacq, etc who all started out from writing zines and who all went on to so-called greater things, plus numerous others who 'progressed' from zine writing to becoming mainstream journalists. Matthew also offers insights into certain individuals who were once prominent figures in the world of fanzines and DIY punk such as Andy Martin of The Apostles, Jon Savage and Mick Mercer. All laid out, I should add with the text on each page in two columns rather than the usual full-page block, making for a much easier-on-the-eye read.

But back to hyperbole: If you understand the meaning of the lines from William Blake's Auguries Of Innocence as in 'To see a world in a grain of sand and heaven in a wild flower. Hold infinity in the palm of your hand and eternity in an hour' and more importantly recognize these lines to be true, then you should also have the wit and the wherewithal to be able to apply these lines to the medium of a fanzine? Just swap 'grain of sand' and 'wild flower' for the word 'fanzine' or even 'a few scraps of paper held together by some staples' then you're there. 

And if you're able to do that then you should probably get hold of a copy of Zerox Machine because it's more than likely you'll really enjoy and appreciate it.

John Serpico