Daytime retro deadzone TV surrealness, from the era of my formative years. Footnotes for something I meant to write for the '70s blog about the shape of culture back when if was channeled through a easily enumberable channels and conduits. Footnotes because it led to odd moments of randomness and the ill-handled, noise (infrequently) crackling through the monocultural signal, when the booking got desperate and thing veered out of territorial waters.
Reminded of: Nick Kent talking about all his time spent with Iggy in the '70s in various parts of Apathy for the Devil. Stating that he quickly discovered that if he addressed him as "Iggy, then the addressee stayed in character, behaving at his worst -- perpetually "performing." But if he addressed him as Jimmy, then everything was cool, because Jimmy Osterberg was actually a pretty nice kid once you got past all the bullshit.
With the first clip: One star hopelessly sunk below the horizon, another having emerged and burning brilliantly. Each having, in their time, changed the shape of the culture in more ways than we readily comprehend. One is reputedly now living in a van somewhere in east L.A., while the other died well before his time.
Anyway, all of this is a placeholder, leavened with entertainment. Pardon the recent slowdown. Blog's not dead, nor am I. These things happen sometimes. Normal activity to resume soon.