Legendary author and publisher Ron Fortier has just released a special book from Airship 27 Productions, "My Life in Comics (a Memoir)", which gives readers an outstanding perspective of his exploits in the field.
Fortier not only covers his encounters with such sources as Charlton, Now Comics, Malibu and Alpha Productions, but his creative impact on such wondrous characters as the Green Hornet and Kato, Mr. Jigsaw, Peter Pan, Popeye, Rambo and the Terminator, as well as his partnership with the remarkable Rob Davis, who supplies sprightly pics for this entry. (As should come as no surprise, Fortier and Davis' collaborative effort, "Daughter of Dracula" is thoroughly detailed.)
To make the read all the more enjoyable, Fortier weaves warmth and humility throughout his reflections. This gives his text an easy-going buoyancy.
For those with an interest in comics, Fortier's autobiographical ride can't help but fulfill in the most human of ways. That also makes his memoir an indispensable submission for any comic connoisseur's library.
And if you hold an interest in Fortier's life and work, I can't recommend enough "Where Love Takes You": a touching, three-act play in the "Our Town" vein.
It's given me comfort on days that may have proven otherwise unbearable and includes identifiable individuals straight from Fortier's past, who are certain to put a smile on one's face, no matter one's circumstance.
"My Life in Comics" and "Where Love Takes You" can be purchased at
https://www.amazon.com/Life-Comics-Memoir-Ron-Fortier/dp/1946183695/ref=sr_1_2?keywords=ron+fortier+my+life+in+comics&qid=1574958858&sr=8-2
https://www.amazon.com/Where-Love-Takes-You-Fortier/dp/1946183075/ref=sr_1_4?keywords=ron+fortier+play&qid=1574958660&sr=8-4.
As the winds turn cold and harsh, Michael Ferentino splashes the atmosphere with weird, nurturing warmth, making Bedtime for Robots' "Exquisite Machine: Episode 6" as unique as any installment that's come before and for those who've been waiting, a fulfilling grace.
The ambiance here is similar to what one faced in Ferentino's banned Halloween '19 special, escorting us into the ambivalent annals of our subconscious minds, where violence and serenity fasten the musical interludes. To accompany the wonders, we receive casual commentary (buffered by some retrospective views) of what Bedtime for Robots will grant in 2020. (Such will have Ferentino fans rejoicing yet salivating for more.)
The crafty, patchwork brilliance of Episode 6 makes it a Frankenstein of sorts (though perhaps this can be said of any "Exquisite Machines" entry), where each electrified, stitched limb adds to the body, creating a ferocious, audio/visual symbiosis.
The culminating jive of Episode 6 also bestows a heavenly touch: ironic since its disturbances should rile more than pacify. But that's the genius of Ferentino. He always offers a brilliant blending of the varied best, exalting dark eccentricities in the most optimistic ways.
Do yourself a favor and enter the Bedtime for Robots experience at https://www.facebook.com/mferentino/videos/10157855251577138/UzpfSTEwMDAwNzY4OTE4Mzc0MToyNDI5MDUxODg3MzYxMDk0/. The trip will be just what the mad doctor ordered.
As a Playmate, you caught the attention of many a lustful fella's eye in '58 and soon brought your innate allure to both the big and small screen.
Your movies proved zestful, imaginative and diverse, covering such bubbly turf as ""Valley of the Dragons"; "The Ghost and Mr. Chicken"; "Dondi"; "A New Kind of Love"; "Roustabout"; "Cape Fear '62", "Gunfight"; "Gunpoint"; "The Ladies Man '61"; and "Johnny Cool".
On television, you were a recurring highlight on "Broadside"; "77 Sunset Strip"; and "The Lively Ones", with guest-starring spots on "McHale's Navy"; "The Untouchables"; "Perry Mason"; "Burke's Law"; "Bonanza"; "Loredo"; "Wagon Train"; "The Virginian"; "The Munsters"; and "Batman '66" as Oakie Annie to Cliff Robertson's sinister Shame.
Your curvaceous charms will continue to bewitch, whether through cinematic wonderment or the imperishable realm of pin-up delights.
Exploitation was your frequent field, and man, did you ever excel in it, fashioning some of the genre's finest.
As writer, producer, distributor and/or director, you applied your stunning skills to flaunt "Bucktown"; "Detroit 9000"; "J.D.'s Revenge"; "Monkey Hustle"; "Friday Foster"; "Class of '74"; "A Woman for All Men"; "Bonnie's Kids"; "Linda Lovelace for President"; "The Roomates"; "Togetherness"; "The Candy Snatchers": "The Centerfold Girls"; and "Wonder Women"; not to mention those directorial efforts for "Starsky and Hutch"; "Mannix"; "Steve Canyon"; and "Perry Mason" (seventy-six episodes in all for the latter).
Your ultimate blend was eclectic, sometimes strange and always entertaining, and much of it played on the drive-in screen.
You were a product of the good, old days who influenced the bad, old days, keeping us spry and appreciative of what cinema can do. Thanks for all your contributions, Mr. Marks, and all those bold, irreverent memories.
Your sense of wry humor was on a par with Charles Addams', and your contributions warped and fruitful, giving us decades of macabre fun.
You contributed to the best of the best, no less, Mr. Wilson, from Colliers to Playboy to Harlan Ellison's "Dangerous Visions", with panels loaded with monsters, murder and mayhem.
For giving us an offbeat track of Americana that others were too craven to explore, we oddballs will be perpetually grateful. May your unruly doodles continue to rule in whatever abstract realm you invade, awaiting our arrival to take that long-awaited, voracious peek.
Your role as C.W. Moss in "Bonnie and Clyde '67" is one that any quality character actor would wish to possess: a cinematic icon that movie buffs continue to reference.
Your uniqueness, however, filtered into other productions, including "Dick Tracy '90"; "Jigsaw '68"; "Roxanne"; "American Gothic '88"; "Season of Fear"; "Split Second"; "Roxanne"; "Summer Magic"; "Scrooged"; "The Legend of Frenchie King"; "Tango and Cash"; "Sleepaway Camp III"; "Melvin and Howard"; "Dirty Little Billy"; "Little Fauss and Big Halsy"; "Four of the Apocalypse"; "Hannibal Brooks"; "The Patriot '86"; "The Wild Angels"; "The Odyssey"; "The Arrival"; "Dark Angel"; "House of 1000 Corpses"; and "The Ray Bradbury Theater: the Handler".
One of your best roles came via classic "Star Trek" in Adrian Spies' "Miri", where you redefined the delinquent concept, but you took your quirky edge to even greater heights with a recurring role as Mr. Mxyzptlk on the fan favorite, "Superboy".
You were a special, one-of-a-kind guy, Mr. Pollard, who brought enormous joy to whatever role you played. Your legacy will endure and strengthen, your presence carved-in-stone forever and always.
Adarkah Ianqu's Cigarettes is a six-track, double-edged, experimental triumph, which represents the best and worst that comes from puffing away, but in the end, it all coughs up clean. Ianqu would have it no other way.
"Nude insects" is the intro: an epic track that's stripped of pretentious inhibition, drawing us in for the eternal extreme, by being both slow and full of mad esteem. The ambivalent sounds make this one the perfect host for the beautiful pangs that are to progress.
A grimy, death-driving trilogy is next: "todestrieb (people unit demix)"; "todescrieb (first approach)"; and plain ol' "todestrieb". These submissions represent (at least to my discerning ears) a soul-slipping uprising through smoky steam, followed by a descent into life's sooty underbelly, tipped by a long rest upon an unending, anguished grave. It's the fight that we like, the fight that we live and die for. The "todestrieb" trio comprises an anthem for those of us who want to drum away in a long, dark tunnel to ensure the masses never sleep, but of course, we're the ones who stay forever awake.
To mollify this clever contradiction, "nympho lover" swoops in: young and eerie, like all those seedy things we can't help but touch. Now bad blood screams through our veins, a poisonous surge that brings to mind Curtis Harrington's "Queen of Blood", where the seduction sure did look sublime, but has left us old and drained.
In the wake of this blissful depletion, Ianqu tosses us a dear "doom heretic": a sort of "Dune" messiah in reverse, where the savior at hand is more a spice-less madman, traveling plumes of cancerous hell. Should we do an about-face or continue to smolder within our makeshift ashtray? No matter which path we choose, our cut-short fate is fixed.
Each puff of Ianqu's "cigarettes" can make us choke and sputter in the most fulfilling ways. Inhale the burn of his addictive chain at
https://adarcahianku.bandcamp.com/album/cigarettes?fbclid=IwAR10Zs0lJU7PGCt6VgF65vaczFquOQfrWJafLW1i5pxFiUtnys_h-jPR3T0.
