For those aware of the massive election fraud in 2012…as the saying goes: you ain’t seen nothin’ yet. There’s so much fraud locked-and-loaded for 2016, that it’s too much for a part-time blogger to keep track of half of it. It’s to the point that the only newsworthy stories during Election 2016 will be about untampered votes cast (only once) by living US citizens.
Hillary implied during the first debate that she has ducked reporters for most of this past year because she was preparing for the debate, and for the presidency. Well, her army of fundamental transformers have been preparing, too.
Early voting does not begin in Ohio until October 12, so no votes have officially been cast in the Buckeye state. However, inside these boxes were, what one source described as, “potentially tens of thousands of votes” for Hillary Clinton.
…With this find… it now appears that Clinton and the Democrat Party planned on stealing the state on Election Day, making any campaigning there now a waste of time.
This is just one of the aspects of the upcoming election which have been inadvertently discovered. For every instance revealed, you can bet money there are dozens or hundreds which never come to light. And even when the Democrats are caught red-handed, the mainstream media assists in the coverup and 90% of the population remains ignorant. Team Hillary will not be held accountable, just like Team Obama was never held accountable. Assuming The will of the people will be determined in November, much less a Trumpslide, is extremely naive.
If the elites played fair, we wouldn’t even be where we are now, would we?
But, sometimes advertising in the right way can give you a bump. For months Shadow Hand Blues has been buried on about page # umpteen zillion or so at Amazon. Nobody bought it, because nobody knew it existed.
Virtual Pulp took advantage of an advertising special on Kindle Nation Daily. (It’s unlikely we’ll ever use Book Bub unless their prices get a whole lot less ridiculous.)
Then on May 29 SHB reached #60 in Mysteries>Private Investigators; #76 in Suspense>Political; # 68 in Historical/Suspense; and # 8,755 paid in the Kindle Store. (The rankings were actually a little better than that before I thought to take a screenshot.) Not bestseller status, of course, but it at least moved the book up out of the enormous slush pile for a hot second where browsing readers might actually find it.
And a few did. Sales spiked for one day. What’s nice is, since the promotion ended, it hasn’t slipped completely back into obscurity. Some E-Book sales are still trickling in, and it’s accumulating some KENP (Kindle Edition Normalized Pages) read, along with its prequel, Fast Cars and Rock & Roll, which is targeted at a much narrower niche audience. Maybe one or both will pick up some reviews, as well.
There are several different ideas about what film noir is and isn’t, and you can hear a lot of them on youtube.
The best interpretation of the French term would probably be phrased “dark cinema” in English. Here are some of the requirements as I learned them:
Shot in black & white.
Dark, moody lighting.
Made in the postwar years.
Featuring a femme fatale.
A very cynical outlook.
(Wow–sounds like a genre custom made for the red pill manosphere.)
This classic masterpiece written by Daniel Mainwaring and directed by Jacques Tourneur fits the criteria pretty well. Whatever someone’s chosen definition of film noir, Out of the Past is universally accepted.
This movie has much in common with The Maltese Falcon–another classic masterpiece I highly recommend (and the most I’ve liked Humphry Bogart in any flick).
Jeff Marcum (Robert Mitchum) is a tough private detective who comes off smart, is never at a loss for words and seems to have rock solid frame control. You would assume him to be an alpha…until he meets Kathie (Jane Greer).
He completely lets his frame crumble; places Kathie on a pedestal; falls for her lies and reverse game (I’ve never seen a reference in the manosphere to women using game…but they do, and here’s an example); double-crosses his client; flushes his career down the toilet; and ultimately has to go into hiding, assuming a new identity, after realizing he’s been used to help Kathie avoid the consequences of her thieving, murdering, deceptive behavior.
At the beginning of the film his name has already been changed to “Jeff Bailey” and he runs a gas station in a small town. He’s found another girl, too–a good one: honest, feminine, submissive…a keeper back then; a unicorn today.
Kirk Douglas plays Whit, who is ostensibly the villain of the story–but is he, really? He’s the one Kathie played for a chump before Jeff came along. He’s also the client that Jeff double-crossed because of her. One of his henchmen (for lack of a better term) just happened to drive through the small town one day and saw Jeff pumping gas.
Just like that, all Jeff’s sins and foolishness come out of the past to bite him hard, in the present.
The acting is solid all around, and the production values are just plain classy. Though it takes place in a bygone era (when you really could change identities and start a new life), I consider the story timeless. However, the plot skeleton was transposed into the 1980s for the movie Against All Odds, which is also a good watch.
As the USA is fundamentally transformed into a third world police state, it’s hard not to notice that the police (local, state and federal) have been transforming before our eyes even faster. Depending on where you live, you might know a “good” cop or two. More often than not, though, police officers have been conditioned to be tools to carry out all sorts of missions except to serve and protect. My concern with this issue is what led me to slip this novel to the front of the line in my To Be Read queue.
Monte Turcott is a veteran recently returned to his home in Calumet County. He becomes a local hero when he stops a pointless shooting spree by killing the shooter. But the star of this novel is Sheriff Bear Ellis.
The irony in the behavior of government employees (from the White House down) is that they all are required to swear an oath to abide by the Constitution. Then they immediately set about violating every article and clause in it. Bear is a rarity in that he remembers his oath, and is convicted to keep it. But even though a county sheriff is theoretically accountable to the people of his county, and beholden to no higher official, Bear is under tremendous pressure from the jackbooted federal Gestapo (represented by the DEA in this case) to be a team player in the encroaching police state.
When the DEA raids the wrong house, killing Turcott’s wife, Bear finds himself caught in the middle of the struggle between the rule of law (to include due process) and the aspirations of the alphabet soup Gestapo agencies. The situation is further complicated when the agent who killed the innocent woman is himself bumped off. There is no evidence against Turcott but the judge/jury/executioner Feds want to pin it on him anyway, and exact revenge.
If this sounds like a farfetched scenario, then you haven’t been paying attention. Yes, “law enforcement” is upside-down from what it was in the 1950s and earlier.
Grice did a good job getting inside the mind of a cop. Even the dying breed of “good” ones have been poisoned by relativistic rationale that puts loyalty to fellow LEOs above actually keeping their oaths. It must be severely difficult not to develop an “us vs. them” attitude regarding the people they are paid to serve and protect.
A very well-written novel, examining one little microcosm of what is happening/has happened to our republic.
P.S: None of the characters of this book belong to the official Oathkeepers organization.
In all directions, as far as the eye could see, there was nothing but desolate emptiness. In such a dreary location the imagination tends to wander and one can’t help wondering if maybe there was, at some point in time immemorial, an advanced, thriving civilization long departed for some unknown reason, all evidence of its achievements in culture and technology now buried under the ruin of time.
But enough about Detroit. This story begins far to the north, and quite a ways west.
The large, steel-hulled ship steamed through the icy waters, between the frozen steppes of Siberia on the left and the frozen tundra of Alaska on the right. A man sitting alone in his private cabin watched the godforsaken scenery slide by.
Tyrone Tirikeldaun didn’t necessarily have to become a supervillain. He could have just as easily become a healthy, positive contributor to society…like an actor, community organizer or Occupy protester.
He had a promising start—watching network television, playing video games, complaining a lot and letting his parents support him while waiting for his first welfare check.
Then, to the detriment of all that lives, he got an idea.
Instead of watching TV and playing video games, he worked on the idea and it grew into a business. But not a socially responsible business that loses money or, at best, breaks even. Once all his expenses were covered and bills paid, he had some money left over. To compound this unethical behavior, he kept that money for himself, reinvesting it in his business.
It was a slippery slope from there. Before long, he was looking for tax breaks to take advantage of, gleefully hoarding as much of the money he earned as was possible.
Villainy was like a drug to him. He couldn’t get enough. The compulsion to oppress the working class and destroy the environment only grew stronger, the more people bought his products.
Tyrone Trikeldaun’s eyes sparkled with a villainous glint as he gazed out over the North Alaskan coast through the cabin porthole in his ship, the SS Unfair Advantage. If only I had time, he thought, I could murder a whole bunch of cute little animals. I could drop anchor, set up some oil drilling equipment and watch multiple species frightened to extinction by the sight of a man-made object.
He sighed and sipped from his decadent 64 ounce Big Glunk. Maybe, as a consolation, he could take a landing party ashore on the way back and swat some protected species of spotted mosquito or something. There were no trees from the Brazilian Rainforest handy to slash, burn, or otherwise take his villainous sadism out on, so he would have to make do.
He pushed the intercom button and asked, “How long until we’re in the Arctic Circle?”
Henchman 34 replied, through the speaker, “We’re about to cross into the Arctic Circle very soon, now.”
“Oh. I mean that other circle, then. You know—the one that’s like a hundred mile radius from the North Pole. I pointed to it on the big map display in my underground lair when I was explaining the plan.”
“Right, sir. We should be there within a week, depending on how thick the ice is.”
Arctic Circle, schmartcic circle. They’d have to think up a different name for it soon. He laughed maniacally and rubbed his hands together.
Continuing the series on Superheroes and The Narrative, this is chapter One from my short e-book The Greater Good.
…Frankly, you have to hand it to the pop culture svengalis because it takes talent to sell an aspect of The Narrative as oxymoronic as feminism (that women are superior to heterosexual men in every way, yet simultaneously oppressed victims of them).
That’s not the only difficult task they’ve cut out for themselves.–they’ve taken the Batman and turned him into a blatant oxymoron which gets swallowed whole by millions.
Let’s not forget that the Batman is A VIGILANTE. He’s a wealthy, property-owning individual who recognizes that the so-called criminal justice system is hopelessly broken. He dedicates his life to disciplined training for a one-man war against the criminal class. Using his own capital, he arms and equips himself for the war. Once he reaches his physical prime, he circumvents the authority of the state and deals out justice personally, concealing his identity from both the criminal underworld and the corrupt system. In the beginning he wasn’t afraid to terminate scumbags with extreme prejudice, and at least once used firearms to do so.
You can’t get much more right-wing than that.
And yet, after Robin was first introduced in the early 1940s, Gotham City took a turn for the bizarre. Batman became a de facto officer in the Gotham PD, working so closely with Commissioner Gordon that one wonders why he bothered to keep his identity secret. You can see the transformation visually in the appearance of his costume, BTW.
So…he’s a vigilante, but he works with the system. Oh, he’s gone through phases in which he is hunted by the cops, but it never lasts long and it’s usually as a result of him being framed by an enemy. He’s also become quite the anti-gun activist.
Since at least the 1980s, the writers at DC have become more bold about inserting their leftist worldview into the comics. (The latest movie trilogy was a pleasant surprise, except for the last one, depending on perspective. If you’re a “law and order” cuckservative/Rino/NeoCon you probably thought the underlying message in Dark Knight Rises was just great.)
So what you have is an anarchist character who is written to be an agent of the state, and most passionate about collectivist causes (gun control, the dangers of privacy, etc.). He’s also a capitalist operating with nigh-autonomy, in a fantasy world where the free market is the problem, and autonomy should be exclusive to leftist politicians.
It takes some talented snake oil salesmen to peddle this stuff; and it takes some gullible chumps to swallow it without question.
Having said that, on to the TV series. I’ll list pros and cons.
PRO: This series has the best performances I’ve seen by a child actor playing the young Bruce Wayne.
CON: In this show Oswald Cobblepot (AKA the Penguin) has more in common with the horrible Tim Burton character revamp than with the Penguin of the comics (at least the first half-century of the comics). In fact, this characterization might be worse: Cobblepot is petulant, impulsive, and sometimes downright stupid. Hardly the stuff supervillains are made of. His segments get tiresome to watch after a few episodes. And was the creepy mother fixation really necessary?
PRO: Young detective Gordon is played very well, though the actor’s voice gets increasingly raspy–like he’s auditioning to play the part of Batman.
CON: Bruce Wayne doesn’t become Batman until he reaches adulthood, right? In this series he’s still a child…and yet the writers seem determined to have every single character in the Batman universe cross paths when Bruce Wayne is pre-pubescent. This is becoming a typical plotting fetish when these superhero franchises are rebooted, and it wasn’t all that clever the first few times. Plus it just isn’t credible. Only so much disbelief can be suspended for the more intelligent viewers, so save your improbable points for stuff like, you know, an unarmed dude with no superpowers attacking gangs of armed criminals, dodging all their bullets and vanquishing them with his bare hands.
PRO: The exception to the foolishness of the fetish summarized above is the early development of Edward Nygma (AKA the Riddler). Making the pre-Riddler E. Nygma a forensic technician for the Gotham Police may just have been a stroke of genius. Some might even find him likeable, in a nerd/loser way. The writers/directors have built for themselves an opportunity here to mold a very solid, credible villain via a patient character arc.
CON: Alfred is now a British SpecOps vet. Really? Facepalm. He’s a butler, okay?
CON: Selena Kyle (AKA Catwoman) is a child, who personally meets and befriends the child Bruce Wayne many years before they grow up to have a kinky love/hate cat/mouse (flying mouse, that is) relationship in masks and tights. Holy overused plot gimmick, Batman. And of course at 12 years old (or whatever) “Cat” is a badass streetwise thug-with-a-heart-of-gold who pulls little Brucie’s fat out of the fire any time the writers can dream up an excuse to contrive it. Oh yeah, both of them also know the young girl who will grow up to become Poison Ivy. Holy ho-hum.
CON: Maybe you’ve noticed we’re missing something. Where are all the sympathetic sodomites? Are the cultural svengalis slipping? Ah, never fear: no less than James Gordon’s future wife (and future mother of Batgirl) is now AC/DC. Her erstwhile rug-munching buddy is one of only two honest cops on the Gotham PD when Jim Gordon joins the force. Hmm. I’m not sure they went far enough–maybe she should be a war hero, too. There’s all sorts of potential checkboxes to choose from in the Perversion Peddling Playbook.
The cultural svengalis are in lock step and their Narrative is as predictable, ultimately, as how any given post-season will end for the Minnesota Vikings. They may lull you into complacency with some good writing, good acting, good whatever for a while, but only so they can sucker-punch you once your guard is down..
Deke Jones is an unapolagetic alpha male (sigma according to Vox Day’s breakdown of the socio-sexual hierarchy) but also an irreverent loner, whose passion is cars and music, and just happens to make a living as a private detective.
I haven’t marketed my books much, and it shows in the anemic sales and Amazon reviews. But then, these are niche novels, focused at an audience that is apparently even smaller than I guessed. Until today (I’m writing this on Saturday 10/10/15) the latest Deke Jones romp, Shadow Hand Blues, didn’t have even a single review.
Well, that threshold is finally crossed, and here is the review:
I loved Fast Cars and Rock&Roll so,naturally,I was excited to see another Deke Jones Romp. After a few paragraphs,I thought that this book was not going to live up to it’s predecessor. Boy was I WRONG! I soon realized that this story was more about Deke Jones the private detective/musician and not about Deke Jones the race car driver. I’m a car guy through and through,that’s what attracted me to the first book,but I also like a well written story. That is exactly what I got here. The characters are complex, the plot is riveting and the book moves like a roller coaster! Maybe it’s just me,but when I read this story,I felt like I was there. I was in the courtroom when Deke was reading the transcripts. I could picture the expressions on Fuller’s face. I witnessed his encounters with the local police. I felt Deke’s rage at the injustice of it all. Very intense. There was also,indeed, enough automobile related content to satisfy the gear head in me. Some drag racing, high speed driving and vintage auto repair,in detail.
I’m not very good at expressing how much I enjoyed this book. My review is crudely written and lacking details. Writing is not my forte. However it is Michael Kayser’s forte, and thank goodness for that. I will be anxiously waiting for the next “Romp”.
Well, I beg to differ. Not only was this review thoughtful and detailed, it was also well-written. I’ve read plenty of Amazon reviews and appreciate this one all the more.
As far as I know, Jack Badelaire coined the term “post-modern pulp.” It describes the “men’s fiction” paperbacks that replaced the old classic pulp magazines in the publishing world. Jack’s blog was recommended to me back around when my literary career was just getting started. I found his tastes and interests to overlap mine in several areas.
He still reviews books and movies on the PMP blog, but in Killer Instincts, Badelaire has pumped the heart and soul of the genre he loves into a post-modern pulp of his own.
Killer Instincts is like The Punisher/The Executioner, Deathwish and The Professional all crammed together.
New England millenial William Lynch loses his family to an old-school crime syndicate back East, and vows revenge. He is trained by professionals for his war on the gangsters, and transforms into a killer himself. One might worry, based on the title and the original synopsis, that this is an intense psychological thriller delving deep into the id (or superego?) of a privileged frat boy transforming into a homicidal vigilante. While that transformation certainly does take place, and even though the story is told in first-person, the author’s camera follows the bloody, bullet-ridden action rather than lock on a close-up of the hero’s tortured psyche.
Driven by revenge and punctuated by white-hot violence, Killer Instincts reads like a film Sam Peckinpah could make with current special effects.
It’s a warm, fuzzy way to spend a day or two, escaping from a reality where murderers rarely get what they deserve and the very worst criminals rise to positions of authority in civilized society, as a matter of course.
Red-Blooded American Men Examine Pop-Culture and the World