These selections are all drawn from Brave Combo's first three albums and also include two previously unreleased tracks.
Psychedelic Hora (Yiddish Polka) by Jim Morrison and the Doors. Perfect for weddings.
Brazilian Forro (pronounced Fó Ho). Composed by Dominguinhos, stellar accordionist from northeastern Brazil.
Polka by Esteban (Steve) Jordan. South Texas musical genius, written for his daughter, Lorianna. Carl on accordion.
Song about obsession featuring Timmy's Tex Mex Horns, the intro is La Marseillaise (French national anthem).
Song about what is and what if. Jeffrey's on Bari Sax.
A Cuban guaguanco (pronounced Wä Wän Ko'). Mitch is a one-man rhythm section.
No disrespect intended here (or anywhere else for that matter), it just works great as a cha cha. Merry Christmas.
Polka standard. This recording used on the soundtrack for Les Blank's Polka film, In Heaven There is No Beer. Carl sings.
Theme from the movie by the same name. Beautiful haunting waltz.
Popular south Texas Polka honoring Juan Seguin, Mexican hero of the Alamo.
Pineapple beer from South Africa. Instrumental hit for Perez Prado in the fifties. Carl on vocals.
Arrangement by Los Norteños de Nuevo Laredo, south Texas border band from the Sixties.
Jeffrey's and Timmy's great clarinet duet. Famous polka – everyone's heard it at least once.
A favorite cha cha of Arthur and Katherine Murray. Reggae drums courtesy of Dave.
Well-known melody from the opera Carmen by Bizet. Let's twist. Non-stop bass line by Lyle.
A song from an exercise record. Written and originally performed by the Bob Scott Six.
Tennessee Ernie Ford's biggest hit. This arrangement is by the cumbia masters, Los Hermanos Barron. Tough guy vocal by Jeffrey.
One of the top four tangos of all time. Complete version here.
Polka about not knowing how good you had it. Played in Eastern European style and tempo.
A state in Mexico on the Pacific coast. Pronounced Wä Hä Kä. Another polka by Esteban Jordan.
Big hit for The Ventures at one time.
Lee Ann Harris (congas) and Steve Fisher (timbales) join on track 3.
If we missed your part of the world, please check future recordings.


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Episode Four: Jessica Alice
In this episode, writer, poet and Program Manager of the Melbourne Writers Festival Jessica Alice joins us to discuss poetry as a truthful political medium, pathways to a career in arts programming, and the intricacies of modern dating etiquette.
Links to topics discussed:
Poet Ali Cobby Eckermann wins Windham-Campbell Prize, in The Guardian Australia.
Spoken Word on 3CR community radio Melbourne.
"In a politics of fear, poetry seeks truth" – Jessica's article for Overland.
Ashley Judd recites "I Am A Nasty Woman" spoken word poem at the Women's March, via Rolling Stone.
The National Young Writers Festival – "a fun party that's good on a spiritual level" – is now calling for artist applications for the 2017 festival.
Shout out to:
Jessica's shout out was to the TV show Chewing Gum. Season one is available to watch now on Netflix.
Jessica Alice is a writer, editor and artistic programmer. She is the Program Manager of Melbourne Writers Festival, Chair of the Kat Muscat Fellowship Custodial Committee and a Shadow Board Member of Melbourne Festival. She also directed the National Young Writers' Festival in 2014–15. Jessica's writing and reviews have been published in The Guardian Australia, Metro Magazine, Overland, Junkee, VICE, The Lifted Brow, Spook Magazine, and Cordite Poetry Review, among others.
Our theme music is Rainbow Chan's "Last", from her latest album Spacings.
Next episode >

redpajama_set_name: RedPajamaCommonCrawl


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Search results for "Tom Cruise"
David Aames has it all: wealth, good looks and gorgeous women on his arm. But just as he begins falling for the warmhearted Sofia, his face is horribly disfigured in…
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Vietnam veteran 'Four Leaf' Tayback's memoir, Tropic Thunder, is being made into a film, but Director Damien Cockburn can't control the cast of prima donnas. Behind schedule and over budget,…
Country: Germany, UK, USA
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Nathan Algren is an American hired to instruct the Japanese army in the ways of modern warfare, which finds him learning to respect the samurai and the honorable principles that…
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Mitch McDeere is a young man with a promising future in Law. About to sit his Bar exam, he is approached by 'The Firm' and made an offer he doesn't…
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With computer genius Luther Stickell at his side and a beautiful thief on his mind, agent Ethan Hunt races across Australia and Spain to stop a former IMF agent from…
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Model's 1.80m and wears a size S with a big fur collar.
Tip: For a close-fitting effect take a size smaller than yours. Otherwise, take your usual size.
CuirParis is official reseller of Ventiuno.


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My Big Fat Fucking Mouth
It has recently been brought to my attention, by people I both love and respect no less, that my decidedly salty choice of language on this sight and others is somehow beneath my abilities as a writer. These aren't the first people to bring this issue up. My mother has been harping me about it for longer then I can remember. My response to this constructive criticism? A kind and respectful, Butt the fuck out! Followed by a courteous, mind your own motherfucking business!
I don't use the language that I use to be 'cool' or to get attention. I use the language I use because I love words: Big words, small words, 'good' words, 'bad' words- I like them all, so I use them all. The result is a strange hodgepodge of Gore Vidalian high grammar and blaxploitation grade gutter-slang. This has kind of become the signature of my writing style but it's actually the way I fucking talk and I've always strived to give my writing a down to earth, conversational feel. Call me an egomaniac but I find it to be rather charming. Apparently, once again, I'm in the minority.
I haven't exactly made a secret of the fact that I'm a struggling writer. I've been at this blogging thing for over three years now and I've only managed to publish a single fucking piece. Even worse, I still get less traffic on this site than a whorehouse in a leper colony (RIM-SHOT!). I now feel compelled to ask- Is it really the fucking language thing? Really!? Most of the sites I submit to bill themselves as being libertarian and/or anarchist in nature. What the fuck kind of anarchist/libertarian gets their goddamn panties in a bunch over a few little four letter words? Sometimes I fear that libertarians in particular have lost sight of the fact that they were founded as an anti-authoritarian movement, not a stuffy social club for bow-tie wearing Republican dope-smokers. Do you motherfuckers seriously believe that Karl Hess would give a flying fuck about my use of the word cunt? You people have to be fucking kidding me.
I may be trans but I'm no fucking lady and I don't intend to be. Who wants to be a fucking lady when you can be a bitch? All my heroes are fucking bitches: Frida Kahlo, Lou Reed, Courtney Love, Angela Keaton. Can you imagine where any of these fine fearless cunts would be if they minded their manners and acted more ladylike? I haven't the slightest idea but they wouldn't be my fucking heroes, I can tell you that. A lady is just a fancy word for a femme who knows her place. Well this femme fatale's only place is up in your motherfucking face and if that makes me persona non grata then so be it. I'd rather be ignored for who I am than praised for putting on airs.
And if any of you dearest motherfuckers got a problem with my big fat fucking mouth then you've clearly picked the wrong fucking blog. Choke on my man-clit. Comrade Hermit out!
Hate, Rage and Apathy- CH
Soundtrack: Songs that influenced this post.
* Femme Fatale By The Velvet Underground
* Jesus Don't Want Me For His Sunbeam By The Vaselines
* Slack Motherfucker By Superchunk
* Rockstar By Hole
* Just Like A Woman By Bob Dylan
* Where Eagles Dare By The Misfits
* Mama Said Knock You Out By LL Cool J
Posted by Comrade Hermit (Nicky Reid) at 11:44 AM 2 comments:
Confessions Of An Anarchist Welfare Queen
I'm an anarchist welfare queen. I'm a lot of seemingly contradictory things, I'm a bearded lady for fucks sake, but I'm pretty sure being an anarchist on welfare takes the fucking cake. I mean, I quite literally survive on money from an institution that I don't even believe should exist. But what am I supposed to do? I may be an anarchist but I'm also an agoraphobic basket-case who pops more pills than Elvis. I'm working on evolving but its going to be a long slow journey before I can even hold down a part time job. My family helps out where they can but they're not rich either. Sponging off the system I despise is the only way I can make ends meet.
That doesn't make it any easier though. I've generally come to see the welfare state in its current form as a way for the state to pay poor people to look the other way while they bomb the shit out of the Third World and enslave our own people in the ever-expanding Prison Industrial Complex. They're freebies to keep us invested in a system which is inherently un-free and they rapidly disappear the moment those cunts feel like they've got a stranglehold. Put simply, welfare is the carrot, tyranny is the stick and please believe me when I tell you that the stick is coming, sooner than you know.
I'm also not too crazy about the idea of the income tax, at least not from a philosophical stand point. I despise the rich and I'm not ashamed to say so. It is quite literally impossible to be a billionaire without exploiting other peoples labor. The super rich minority in this country can only exist with a poor and oppressed majority to bleed dry. But that still doesn't change the fact that involuntary taxes are essentially theft. Giving any institution the right to kill and/or steal is by definition tyranny. I've struggled against this logic for a long time as a badge carrying leftist but I find it harder and harder to ignore. I guess you could call me the worlds first Voluntaryist Marxist. That's another one to chock up to my Walking-Contradiction Syndrome.
In a perfect world I would have a mutual-aid society or a democratic syndicate to fall back on. Back before that gimpy twat FDR integrated the radical left into the state and defanged it, we use to take care of our own that way. Every union worth its weight in shit had its own single-payer program. We didn't go around asking the state for favors. We developed complex and totally voluntary institutions to provide working people with the security to fall down and the tools to get back up again. The left in this country doesn't work like that anymore. We've become domesticated house-pets of the federal government. I'm fully committed to changing that in my lifetime but right now I need help and I literally can't afford to look a gift horse in the mouth. Even if that gift horse also happens to be a war horse.
This dicked up society we've cobbled together from an ugly hodgepodge of big government, big business and organized religion doesn't make it easy to be queer or mentally-ill, let alone both. It's pretty much set up to fuck us, imprison us and suck us dry, which is probably the one reason I don't feel terrible about being a leach on said societies nut-sack. That and the fact that otherwise your tax dollars would just go to more prisons and more bombs. I still feel bad about living off your tax dollars but I can promise you one thing. That when I'm well enough to stand on my own two feet, I'm gonna use them to stomp this putrid jack-o-lantern we call a state into fucking bits and you'll never have to pay another tax again. And you can quote my batshit tranny ass on that.
Just consider it an investment in a truly democratic society, dearest motherfuckers, and call this post an I.O.U.
I owe you one revolution.
Catch you on the flip side.
Peace, Love and Empathy- CH
* Soul To Squeeze By Red Hot Chili Peppers
* Shut In By Strand Of Oaks
* Little Green Bag By The George Baker Selection
* Time Is On My Side By The Rolling Stones
* Suck You Dry By Mudhoney
* Mayonnaise By Smashing Pumpkins
* Original Fire By Audioslave
* Nothing To Be Done By The Pastels
* Revolution By The Beatles
* Flipside By Bleached
Posted by Comrade Hermit (Nicky Reid) at 12:45 PM No comments:
The Arabian Candidate
I really hate to admit it, dearest motherfuckers, because god knows I've been a critic of the theory but I can no longer deny the fact that the Trump regime is colluding with a subversive foreign power. Over the last half year I have fretfully witnessed my so called president acquiesce in every way imaginable to this rogue state. He has defended their numerous crimes both in public and in private. He has accepted their filthy blood money and surrounded himself with their loyal quislings. He has even gone so far as to support their flagrantly illegal occupation and annexation of a smaller, weaker neighbor.
No I'm not speaking of Donald Trump's alleged collusion with Putin's Russia. The DNC has yet to find a smoking gun on that Grassy Knoll, that is unless you count Donald Jr.'s games of footsie with low level Russian scum bags (Rachel Maddow does, I don't). No, I'm speaking of the Trump administrations borderline homoerotic love affair with their bros in Saudi Arabia, the world's third most diabolical terror state, after America and Israel, naturally. In stark contrast with his icy indifference towards the dreaded Kremlin, the orange bastard has done somersaults through his own pinched asshole to please the Kingdom of Saud. He's gone balls deep on militarily supporting their genocidal war on Yemen. He's promised them $350 billion dollars in military hardware. He's even vociferously supported their strange little tiff with our alleged allies in Qatar, even while members of his own administration rush to put out the fire. All the while, the Donald calls for the absurd premise of a Gulf State NATO, charged with fighting the very terrorists they helped create headquartered in sunny Riyadh.
What all this tells me is that the Trump regime is making a YUUUGE! investment on making Saudi Arabia the future face of American imperialism in the Middle East. Too all this I can only ask: Why? I mean, for the Donald himself and his creepy little predator-Zionist son in law, Jared Kushner, it's obvious. The Saudis are the kings of easy money, especially when it comes to the gaudy real estate the Trumps and the Kushners specialize in. But why the H.R. Mcmasters'? Why the Mad Dog Mattis'? Why are these Deep State veterans that Trump has surrounded himself with so gun-ho about jumping into bed with these blood-sucking sheikhs. The Saudis aren't the only regime on the block with a price tag but they're rapidly becoming the most unstable.
With King Salman a cunts hair away from his thousand thread count death bed, the last few years have played out like a backroom grudge match between contestants for the top spot of heir apparent to the throne in the Royal Kingdom. The latest Crown Prince, the third since 2015, is by far the most dangerous. King Salman's 32 year old son, Crown Prince Bin Salman, has made a name for himself as his pitiless nations Defense Minister with his letting of oceans of blood vis a vis the ethnic cleansing of Zaydi Muslims in Yemen and his less than subtle support for the head chopping maniacs turning Syria into a black hole of endless sectarian violence. He's also been the main force behind the GCC's blockade against Qatar, which I suspect has more to do with his predecessor, Mohammed Bin Nayef's chummy relationship with the tiny little monarchy than anything Al-Jazeera related.
Long story short, the Crown Prince has already stretched his desert empire paper thin before he's even reached the throne. All with a dwindling oil supply and rising discontent among the nation's long oppressed Shia population on the gulf coast. It doesn't take a political scientist to tell you that the Kingdom of Saud is ripe for a well earned civil war.
So once again, I have to ask: Why Saudi Arabia? If your looking for a reliable client state in the Middle East, the obvious choice to me is Iran. Look beyond all the Western/Zionist propaganda and what you have is essentially a stable, reasonably moderate, semi-democratic republic founded on the bedrock of a popular revolution. With it's mixed economy and front row seat to the Eurasian theater, Iran is strategically perfect for quisling-hood. It's oil rich but not oil dependent, It's been a consistent allie in the wars against both Al-Qaeda and ISIS and it's bent over backwards for western approval with the P5+1 nuclear deal. A deal to fix a problem that only existed in the syphilitic minds of neocons and Israeli expansionists, I might add.
Obama appeared to grasp the premise of an Iranian collaboration for the future of American imperial intrigue. At times he even seemed to be on the brink of reaching out to the Islamic Republic but the elites in both parties, including the rag-tag Trump team have totally rejected this opportunity out of hand. Choosing instead to align themselves with Iran's mortal enemy, a bloodthirsty corporatist theocracy that begs Uncle Sam for money with one hand and openly funds violence on our very shores with the other. In case you've forgotten, dearest motherfuckers, it was Saudi Arabia who bankrolled the attacks on 9/11 and paid off the Pakistanis to hide Bin Laden. Which brings up another interesting question: with their clear hatred for Western "values", why does Saudi Arabia allie with the United States? After all, we're no longer the only viable superpower on the block.
China would seem like a much more reasonable alternative. The United States may still be far more powerful but we're also clearly an empire in decline. The election of a grabby circus clown like Trump makes that fact almost painfully clear. With multiple military quagmires in multiple countries on multiple continents burning out of control not to mention the worlds most ass backwards welfare state, America is in debt up to its fucking eyeballs and China is the loan shark with our cojones in a vice. Saudi Arabia wouldn't be the first American "allie" to turn to the Red Dragon for patronage. Many former Yankee client states in Africa and Latin America have chosen this route. So why not the Saudi's? China is a conservative illiberal republic founded on Confucianist values with one of the worlds fastest growing middle classes. Sounds like a perfect match to me.
My point here is that unlike Saudi Arabia and the United States, Iran and China are reliable partners. So why are both the Saudis and the Americans who have lowered themselves to doing their bidding so allergic to reliable. The answer is as simple as it is ugly: Because Saudi Arabia and America are empires founded on plunder and empires thrive on chaos. America doesn't want stability in the Middle East even if it means one-upping the Russians and the Chinese. They want the Middle East broken and dependent so they can justify their existence to both their own citizenry and the world at large. What good is the United States without a war or five to fight. In that context it makes perfect sense for them to allie with a nation that exports jihad like a raw commodity.
Similarly, the Saudis don't want a stable papa nation keeping tabs on them and telling them how to burn their money. They want a surrogate who is bleeding and desperate. They want an empire that throws around weapons like Mardi Gras beads as it crashes and burns. In short, the Saudis want a sponsor as fucked up and reckless as they are. So it's little wonder that they became the one establishment order to welcome the Donald into the fold with open arms once their prize stead (S)Hillary busted herself lame on the election hurtle. After all it doesn't get much more fucked up than Trump. It's the perfect match. A marriage made in hell. A bloated, discolored, greedy old scam artist farting his way through one last con and a budding, swarthy, young psychopath on the cusp of despotism. Donald Trump and the Crown Prince are like the Sid and Nancy of international violence. Nicholas Sparks couldn't come up with a grander romance. Call it, The Arabian Candidate and sell it at the airport for ten bucks a pop.
Ain't love grand, dearest motherfuckers.
Head Like A Hole By Nine Inch Nails
Losing My Religion By REM
Chainsaw Gutsfuck By Mayhem
Rock The Kasbah By The Clash
Violet By Hole
Reign In Blood By Slayer
Everyone Wants To Live Forever By The Flaming Lips
Pleasure By Feist
Peace Sells By Megadeath
Just Like Henry By Dressy Bessy
Posted by Comrade Hermit (Nicky Reid) at 3:28 PM No comments:
Summer Flicks For Snobs & Pricks
I love movies. I'd say they're probably my fourth favorite thing after the three P's: Punk, Politics and Pussy. And there are few things that I love more than going to the movies. I love everything about it, the dangerously over buttered popcorn, the glow of the big screen in that deep dark room, even the unwinnable arguments I get into with my brother over the meaning of what we just witnessed on the moonlit drives home. There's really only one thing I don't like about going to the movies these days and, ironically enough, it's the fucking movies themselves! Especially in the summer when that putrid cesspool called Hollywood (America's second undrainable swamp!) unleashes a tidal wave of the dumbest, safest, tackiest, money-grubbing horseshit that their pea sized lizard brains can fart out. It's all green screens, CGI and wisecracking, jingoistic superheroes pimping the lowest common denominator out of their hard earned walking change. I know, I know, I'm a film snob and a total fucking prick. Nothing gets my unwanted, chubby little pecker harder than a good old fashioned bugfuck art flick or a pretentious, Euro-trash, soft-core fuck-fest: Vaseline, subtitles and all. I would love nothing better than to gorge myself sick on this strange vice before the silky glory of the silver screen but sadly there aren't too many faggy revival houses out in Amish country, so I have to settle on watching Netflix in my parent's basement.
I can't be the only one, can I? There has to be at least a few other weirdos out there hungry for something new and strange this summer and maybe even a few curious rubes brave enough to watch on the wild side. Well, never fear, dearest motherfuckers, Comrade Hermit Productions is proud to present the first annual list of Summer Flicks For Snobs & Pricks. A small collection of some of my favorite of-the-beaten-path cinematic gems for you fine fucks to feast on in the cool comfortability of your own basement. You probably won't find any of this shit at Redbox and you definitely won't find it at your local megaplex but as long as you have access to an old-school, snail-mail, Netflix account, you should be able to get your grubby mitts on all that lies below. Just pace yourselves, dearest motherfuckers, especially the more bourgeois among you. This is the kind of shit that Hollywood doesn't want you to see. But if you keep an open mind, it might just get blown. You're welcome.
The Doom Generation (1995) Directed by Gregg Araki
Gregg is by far the most underrated director to come out of the Queer Cinema movement, largely because he's it's most dangerous alumni and The Doom Generation is his blood soaked magnum opus: The nihilistic saga of a shiftless teenage couple, Amy and Jordan (played by the equally gorgeous Rose McGowan and James Duval) who hook up with a mysterious bisexual drifter who involves them in a convenience store robbery gone gruesomely wrong. Together, the triad flees the dystopian sprawl of the Los Angeles suburbs, only to be stalked by an endless procession of queer bashers and Amy's irate ex-lovers. Hollywood hated it because they didn't get it. It's a grotesquely humorous analogy for the culture of random chauvinistic and heterosexist violence that women, girls and queer kids have to live with every fucking day. Araki never sugarcoated it for the breeders or the squeamish (or do I repeat myself) which is precisely what make him and movies like The Doom Generation so fucking vital.
Highlight (spoiler alert)
Rose McGowan's Amy Blue instantly became one of my idols upon watching this movie back in high school. With her fuck-you attitude and her Gothic Lolita swagger she was everything little girls weren't supposed to be and everything that I secretly wished I was. Her foul mouthed one-liners are still fucking priceless: from " You're like a life support system for a cock!" to " If bullshit were music, you'd be a big brass band" and, of course, the instantly classic refrain "Eat my fuck". Amy's filthy mouth made me wanna be a girl.
Visitor Q (2001) Directed by Takashi Miike
Note to dearest motherfuckers: NOT FOR EVERYONE. Takashi Miike has made some fantastically fucked up cinema over the last twenty-something years: masterfully mixing the awkward dreaminess of David Lynch with the grotty body horror of David Cronenberg in cult classics like Audition, Ichi the Killer and Gozu. But I believe the mad genius of J-Horror hit his peak with this little known, direct-to-DVD black comedy which may very well go down in history as the most fucked up family movie ever made. Incest, heroin addiction, necrophilia, domestic violence: The Yamazaki family shatters every taboo in the book before a nameless stranger injects himself into the madness and brings them back together through the magic of casual violence and erotic lactation....like I said, not for everyone, but if your just the right kind of fucked up you might just find a strange bitter-sweetness in Visitor Q that's, dare I say, almost heartwarming.
The scene where the Yamazaki's gleefully hack their son's bullies to bits should bring a smile to the face of anyone who grew up weird and was forced to suffer for it by vicious square kids or any parent who's ever had a day dream about fucking gutting some teenage psychopath for calling their kid a faggot. Here's your moment, beautiful people. Soak it in.
Shortbus (2006) Directed by John Cameron Mitchell
Mitchell, that beautiful creature who gave us the gift of Hedwig and the Angry Inch, once stated in an interview, "Sex...is to interesting to leave to porn." He proves this maxim in spades with this groundbreaking erotic comedy that follows the denizens of a weekly queer happening known as the Shortbus as they try to find themselves and each other through the tangled web of their sex lives. You'll laugh, you'll cry, but you probably wont come. That's not the point as Mitchell shows us that even explicit sex doesn't have to be pornography. It can be something even cooler. It can be art.
Nothing can beat the final scene, where Shortbus' host, the brilliantly vivacious Justin Vivian Bond, playing herself, sings to the love battered collective, joined together under candlelight during a blackout, a wistful lullaby which explodes into an anthem as she's joined by a marching band, uniting the room with the refrain "We all get it in the end!" It's downright orgasmic.
Sonatine (1993) Directed by Takeshi Kitano
Murakawa is a depressed Yakuza sent down to Okinawa to broker a peace deal between warring clans, only to find himself and his men caught in an ambush. They escape to a secluded beach house where they rescue a mysterious rape victim and lose themselves in childish pranks, firecrackers and rainy day bullshitting only to have the violence of the adult world they escaped come crashing in on them. Takeshi Kitano is nothing short of phenomenal: writing, directing and starring in one of the most refreshingly original gangster films ever made. Watch it on a rainy afternoon and fucking lose yourself. I promise you wont regret it.
Murakawa's revenge on the bosses who slaughtered his men is one of the most haunting shootouts in cinema history. Kitano stalks the darkened hotel boardroom like a panther with an M-16. His expressionless face, still as a stone mask. His quiet rage, silent but palpable like a phantom pulse set to the beat of the gunfire, flashing in the darkness like a strobe light. Just like the movie itself, it breaths madness like a strange kind of magic that makes perfect sense to no one but Murakawa and the audience that he holds captive.
The Dreamers (2003) Directed by Bernardo Bertolucci
Thirty years after Last Tango In Paris, Bernardo Bertolucci returns to the City of Light with this beautiful erotic love letter to youth, cinema and rebellion. During the build up to the May '68 Paris Uprising, American film student Matthew (Michael Pitt, brilliant, gorgeous) shacks up with local twin cinephiles, Isabelle (Eva Green, equally brilliant, doubly beautiful) and Theo (Lois Garrel, meh?) at their stately chateau while their bourgeois parents are on holiday. Matthew quickly discovers that the twins have zero sexual mores, even between each other, and he quickly finds himself sucked into their private world of sex games, classic cinema and revolutionary Maoism, all culminating in the break out of the revolution they've been waiting for.
As shallow as it may sound to a cinematic laymen, the sex scenes really are a work of art. Every three way is more like a four way with Bertolucci's camera playing the role of the fourth, silent lover. It delivers a level of intimacy to the audience that makes mainstream pornography look like a sad and lonely joke. Matthew's passionate but ultimately doomed attempt to convince the twins that love is far more revolutionary than violence during the final scene is another highlight, still as poignant and tragically unheard today as it was in 1968. C'est la vie.
The Killer (1989) Directed by John Woo
John Woo's high octane masterpiece is nothing short of a triumph of Hong Kong cinema. The operatic tale of an assassin with a heart of gold who agrees to do one last hit in order to pay for the eye surgery of a nightclub singer he accidentally blinded in a previous job, only to be double crossed by his Triad boss and befriend a detective fascinated by the criminals valor. I know, on paper it sounds melodramatic and it is but it's also the greatest action film ever made. Trust me, skip the latest Vin Diesel abortion and watch this instead. If your disappointed then please kill yourself, your hopeless and I can't help you.
No action sequence will ever beat the epic final shootout in the abandoned chapel: Beretta's flashing, bodies falling, doves flying, candles flickering, blood spurting. John Woo turns unspeakable carnage into a bullet ballet of near biblical proportions. What more can I say? It's fucking beautiful. Shakespeare would be humbled.
Gummo (1997) Directed by Harmony Korine
Gummo isn't a movie. Gummo is an experience. One that will mark you and forever change the way you look at cinema and the world around you. It's a strange, terrifying, beautiful thing to behold. In the dystopian wasteland of tornado ravaged Xenia, Ohio, an odd collection of aimless misfits eck out a strange existence on the wreckage of their former lives. At times it feels almost like a Jacques Cousteau film only with people playing the parts of the monsters only found at the bottom of the sea. These bizarre, seemingly random and largely improvised vignettes are rendered even more surreal by Harmony Korine's use of gritty, voyeuristic, cinema verite style of camera work and a soundtrack comprised almost entirely of left-field extreme metal bands like Burzum, Absu, Spazz and Sleep. It's one hell of a fucking trip. Do yourself a favor, buy the ticket, take the ride.
During the final vignette, when Chloe Sevigny emerges from the dirty water in the vacant above ground swimming pool and kisses Bunny Boy surrounded by a pounding torrential downpour while Roy Orbison's Crying plays in the background has to be one of the great indelible images in the history of avante garde cinema and it's an image permanently fried into my frontal lobe like a cigar burn, at least I hope so. Maybe I should watch it again just to make sure....
Love Exposure (2008) Directed by Sion Sono
Clocking in at just over four hours, you would think that Sion Sono's epic black rom-com would be fucking exhausting but if you have an afternoon to kill, Love Exposure is your weapon of choice. The story starts with Yu, the earnest son of a widowed Catholic Priest who only seems to have time for him in the confessional booth. Yu's solution to this problem is to start committing sins to confess, the more perverse the better. This sends him down a strange and twisted path that leads him to petty vandalism, uspkirt photography, cross-dressing, finding true love and battling a deadly cult for her heart. It's insane. It's beautiful. it's Japan in a nutshell. A love story that could only exist on that wonderful, volcanic archipelago where everything seems to be both sacred and perverse all at the same time.
Yu's ultra-violent, Tarantino-esque siege of Zero Church headquarters as his drag queen ultra-ego, Miss Scorpion, plays like Kill Bill meets Rocky Horror. It's the queerest jihad since Stonewall and it's all for love. Absolutely perfect in every single way.
Together (2000) Directed by Lukas Moodysson
Lukas Moodyson's bitter-sweet period comedy about a bored house wife who leaves her alcoholic husband with her children and crashes at her idealistic brother's floundering hippie commune in 1975 Stockholm earned a very special place in my heart during a very dark time in my life. It would have been very easy just to make this movie a tasteless parody of '60's/'70's counterculture but even Together's most seemingly irredeemable hippie brats are treated with a degree of love and compassion that only a self-proclaimed fellow socialist like Moodyson could deliver. Only a true egalitarian could skewer his own fellow comrades with such tenderness. It's a movie about sensitive idealists coming to terms with the fact that though the revolution may be over their love for each other still makes them family. Call it the charming side of self-criticism.
It's strictly personal but the awkward relationship that develops between Lena's shiftless, bookish daughter and the schlubby neighbor boy really got me deep. Probably because the two ugly ducklings bare more than a passing resemblance to me and my first middle school crush. Caitlin, wherever the fuck you are, someone weird still loves you.
The Edukators (2004) Directed by Hans Weingartner
A menage a trios develops between the three members of a non-violent leftist cadre after they're forced by circumstance to take a wealthy businessman hostage. Together, the four of them hide out in the picturesque Austrian Alps, where the rebels with a cause realize that their prisoner use to be one of them back in the seventies. What results is a beautiful meditation on love and revolution that will stay with you years after watching this brilliant indie gem. I was heartbroken to learn that Hollywood planned to remake The Edukators but overjoyed to learn it had crashed and burned in development hell. What can I say? Some people never change.
The final sequence, in which it's revealed that Hardenberg has gone back on his promise and presses charges against the trio after all, who it turns out predicted his hypocrisy and already escaped, unveils like a dream sequence beautifully set to the score of Jeff Buckley's flawless cover of Hallelujah. It's nothing short of cinematic perfection and it makes me cry every fucking time. The kind of magic those greedy hacks in Hollywood could never remake in a million years with a billion dollars.
Well there you have it, dearest motherfuckers, another pretentious list from your favorite asshole. I can just see you rolling your eyes right now but if I can get just one of you to watch just one of these criminally underrated masterpieces then I can breath easy and live with the chorus of sighs and snickers that seem to follow my snarky ass everywhere I go, watch two and they might just sound like music to my ears. Just remember, dearest motherfuckers, safe art is bad art and life's too goddamn short to waste on bad art.
Peace, Love and Eat My Fuck- CH
Soundtrack: Music from or inspired by theses flicks
* Alison By Slowdive
* The Hardest Button To Button By The White Stripes
* Boys Of Melody By The Hidden Cameras
* Wave Of Mutilation By The Pixies
* S.O.S. By Abba
* Hey Joe By Jimi Hendrix
* Nightswimming By REM
* Dunkelhelt By Burzum
* Somebody To Love By Queen
* Hallelujah By Jeff Buckley
Red Line Fever
I had every intention of taking this week off and reserving my creative juices for barbecue and blowing up mail boxes, you know, patriotic shit. But a couple of very peculiar and very disturbing things popped up in the news last week and the idea of not putting my thoughts out on paper in regards to these events feels like a heavier burden on my anxiety ridden skull than cranking out another post during my vacation so, fuck it, here we go.
The first story to stick in my brain like an errant popcorn kernel was Seymour Hersh's brilliant piece on the Kan Sheikhoun gas attacks in Syria and the bombing that our petulant president, Donald Trump, launched against the Syrian airbase in Shayrat in response. The only thing more shocking than the lies old Seymour debunked with this top notch piece of investigative journalism is the fact that he had to go to fucking Germany to get it published.
Long since banished from the land of fake news that has become this sad country, Hersh's piece was originally commissioned to be released by the London Review of Books who had published his equally incendiary piece on the equally facacta Ghouta chemical attacks of 2013 (we'll circle back to this later). But the Limey twits chickened out like those bitches across the pond, forcing America's greatest living journalist to go to the Germans (the goddamn Germans!?!) for freedom of the press. Thank god for Die Welt. If it wasn't for those wonderful Krauts, we, the few woke Americans, would have to once again go to Russia Today to find out that our life is a lie.
What Hersh revealed with this piece is basically what the Russians have been trying to tell us all along: Khan Sheikhoun wasn't a sarin gas attack, it was a standard bombing of a known jihadist meeting sight that contained dangerous chemicals in the basement, where said jihadists stashed their weapons and sundry loot. This isn't particularly shocking to anyone who actually took the time to read into the story. The shocking part was that the Russians had informed the US Military of this attack days before hand in order to give our spooks a chance to pull out any double agents we may have had working out of the target. Trump was repeatedly informed of this fact and pulled the fucking trigger on the illegal bombing of a Russian occupied airbase anyway.
Hersh and his sources theorize that the cloud of toxic fumes that happened as a result of the Kan Sheikhoun bombing were the product of chlorine and manure stored at the sight. Very possible, but the paranoid side of me can't seem to shake the sneaking suspicion that this site was intentionally loaded with toxic chemicals by one of the CIA's al-Nusra rats, who had been tipped off indirectly by those poor over trusting Russians themselves, in order to deliver the Donald the red line crossing tragedy that would goad him into embracing the Agency's beloved regime change schemes and wiping his ass with the last shred of hope left for detente with Russia. Sunrise. Sunset.
The second news story that ruined my holiday coincided, perhaps not uncoincidentally with the dropping of Hersh's story. Early last week a number of weird threats began to emanate from the White House. Sean Spicer, Washington's second finest drag king after Lindsey Graham, made cryptic claims that unidentified sources had identified plans for "another" Syrian chemical weapons attack by the Assad regime and that, if this happened, The Syrian president would pay a heavy price. Neither the Pentagon nor the State department backed up this narrative but that didn't stop Snarling Nikki Haley from stoking the flames of war before congress the next day: speaking of the necessity for sending not only Assad but his allies in Russia and Iran a message. After another day passed with no telltale chemical attack, Secretary of Defense and Tobin Bell stunt double, Mad Dog Mattis made the absurd assertion to reporters that the only reason the Syrians didn't launch the attack was because of the White House's mercurial threats. "That showed them!" What the fuck, right?
The whole weird affair seemed like a failed reenactment of Obama's 2013 red flag fiasco, when the then-president nearly went to war with Syria over another chemical attack that Seymour Hersh revealed to be a jihadist false flag in the Damascus suburb of Ghouta. I have long posited the unpopular theory that Barack Obama had actually set the red line on chemical attacks as a kind of dare, knowing full well that his minions in al-Nusra were the only ones with both the means and the motive to cross it thus giving Obama the green light to finally destroy Assad with the international support necessary to please his pseudo-liberal base. The only reason this didn't work out was because Trump's former man-crush, Vladimir Putin stole Obama's thunder with a peace deal that made his NPR friendly dream war impossible.
Last week's red line drawing threats feel like a characteristically clumsy attempt by Trump's regime who couldn't shoot straight to goad another false flag attack. As Hersh proved in Die Welt, the administration has full knowledge that Assad isn't in the business of committing these kind of attacks and it's practically common knowledge that the floundering jihadists of al-Nusra have the goods. So what does this mean? In the wake of the Russian witch trials and his plummeting approval ratings, President Trump has a bad case of red line fever, and aside from an increasingly unlikely Russian miracle, there is only one known cure for this disease: all out war.
Go ahead, dearest motherfuckers, call me paranoid and I hope you're right, but I couldn't bomb my neighbors private property with a clean conscience if I didn't at least warn you of my suspicions.
Happy Fourth.
* Fourth Of July By X
* Your Life Is A Lie By MGMT
* Townie By Mitski
* Flagpole Sitta By Harvey Danger
* Oblivion By Grimes
* Saints By The Breeders
* Human Behavior By Bjork
* Where Is My Mind By The Pixies


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Daily news roundups
Mbolhi rumors, Union bits, Impact at Azteca for CCL final first leg, US U-23s face Mexico, more
Posted by Ed Farnsworth on April 22, 2015 at 9:44 am
Photo: Paul Rudderow
How about some Rais Mbolhi rumors? One report (crappy Google translation here) links Mbolhi to a move to Turkey, with another report doing the same (crappy translation here) noting the Algerian is under contract with the Union through 2017. Union Rumors notes that Mbolhi was linked to Konyaspor before his move to the Union.
Perhaps the rumors will come up in Jim Curtin's weekly press conference, which takes place today at 12:30 pm. Before Curtin, Fernando Aristeguieta will speak to the press at 12:15 pm.
At MLSsoccer.com, Dave Zeitlin talks to Zach Pfeffer about joining the US U-20s for their camp in Austria. Pfeffer said after Sunday's Union game, "It's getting into crunch time leading to the World Cup. There's only about a month left and this is the last camp before [head coach Tab Ramos] picks his team. It's an important camp for me and I'm excited." The call-up means Pfeffer will be unavailable for the Union this weekend when they travel to Columbus.
It doesn't appear that Pfeffer played in the US U-20's 2-2 draw with Asian champions Qatar in Tuesday's friendly, which is understandable given that he flew out to join the team in Austria after playing 78 minutes for the Union on Sunday night. In goal for the US was Downingtown's Zack Steffen.
The officials for Saturday's road game in Columbus have been announced. Holding the whistle will be Chris Penso. Gregory Barkey and Mark Cahen are the linesmen, Mark Kadlecik the fourth official.
The headline at Metro reads, "Philly Union on-field play, attitude improving."
Power rankings: The Union drop one spot to No. 19 at MLSsoccer.com: "Jim Curtin is looking for answers all across the field but one thing is for sure: Cristian Maidana needs to be in the starting lineup." Yep.
At Brotherly Game, Jared Young looks at the Union's late-game collapses.
The latest in the Union's "Mic'd Up" video series features Maurice Edu during last week's draw at NYCFC. I've said it before and I'll say it again, I love this sort of thing.
At the Union website, the "Start Your Journey" series, a collaboration between AAA and the Union "to help celebrate families' journeys in support of their young athletes," begins with Jimmy McLaughlin. You can submit your family's story for consideration by clicking here.
In case you missed it on Tuesday night, the latest 90th Minute Radio Show featured Sebastien Le Toux as the guest.
Looking ahead to Saturday, Columbus Dispatch reports that the Crew's Ethan Finlay is rounding into form.
Antoine Hoppenot received an honorable mention in this week's USL Team of the Week for his play on loan from the Union to Harrisburg City Islanders in their home opener win over Montreal last Saturday.
PSP contributor Sean Doyle talks about the upcoming Reading United season in the latest Reading United Soccer Scene video.
The Trentonian on the election of Glenn "Mooch" Myernick, who passed away in 2006 at the age of 51, into the National Soccer Hall of Fame. Good read.
Brotherly Game recaps Philadelphia Fury's spring season opening loss to the Evergreen Diplomats last Saturday.
The Drexel women's team is holding an identification clinic open to all high school-age female soccer field players and goalkeepers on Sunday, May 31 from 10 am–3:30 pm at the Vidas Athletic Complex.
Montreal Impact play Club America at the Azteca in Mexico City tonight at 9 pm in the first leg of the CONCACAF Champions League final. The game is on Fox Sports 2, which remains unavailable to Comcast subscribers, but you can see the Spanish-language broadcast on UniMas.
Both legs of the final have sold out. That's 105,000 tickets sold for tonight's game at the Azteca, and 59,020 at Montreal's Olympic Stadium. Montreal is trying to figure out a way to fit more people in Olympic Stadium.
Former Union man Jack McInerney talks to ASN about playing in the final: "Going into Azteca and playing in front of 100,000 people and Club America— if that doesn't get you pumped up, I don't know what does."
At MLSsoccer.com, a good read on how the San Francisco Bay Blackhawks — perhaps the top pro team in the US at the time — nearly pulled off an improbable upset of Club America at the Azteca in the CONCACAF Champions' Cup — forerunner to the CONCACAF Champions League — in 1992.
Sportsnet.ca reports, "A well-placed source within Maple Leaf Sports & Entertainment told Sportsnet that the organization is actively looking to hire a club president that would oversee all soccer operations for TFC. The same source said MLSE has courted and spoken to Italian executive Umberto Gandini about the position. Gandini is a club director at Serie A team AC Milan." ESPNFC's David Amoyal first tweeted the news on Monday, along with this bit: "Been told that a loss in next match will bring a coaching change at Toronto FC, and next manager is expected to be Italian."
Orlando City has reached the 14,000 mark for season tickets sold. A waiting list has been created for those wishing to buy season tickets for 2016.
Real Salt Lake center back Chris Schuler is out four-to-six weeks after surgery to repair a torn meniscus in his right knee.
At SI, Grant Wahl Wahl writes, "[O]ne question I've heard from some team execs is this: If the salary cap is only $4.2 million per team in 2019, how will MLS reach its stated goal of being one of the world's top soccer leagues by 2022?" He continues,
I asked a top league exec, and he mentioned two specific things: One, that the league will likely increase the number of Designated Players allowed per team, which currently stands at three. And two, he said the league's investment in youth development (currently at $30 million a year) will only increase by 2019 and should be producing significant dividends by then. We'll see if he's right.
The Salt Lake Tribune on Fox moving last Sunday's NYCFC-Portland game from Fox Sports 1 to Fox Sports 2 because some NASCAR race that was to air on Fox was rain-delayed and had to be moved to Fox Sports 1. It's a ridiculous scenario, and one that will surely happen again. The article also notes "Fox is carrying the upcoming women's World Cup (June 6-July 5), and it has half a dozen games slated to air on FS2."
The US U-23s face Mexico tonight at the StubHub Center in Carson, Calif. (11 pm: UniMás, Univision Deportes). Previews at US Soccer, SI, and MLSsoccer.com.
ESPN reports Julian Green would have played in tonight's game but "but new Hamburg coach Bruno Labbadia gave permission hours too late, according to U.S. assistant coach Andi Herzog."
The US U-20s drew 2-2 with Asian champions Qatar in a friendly on Tuesday in Austria. It doesn't appear that the Union's Zach Pfeffer played in the game, which is understandable that he flew out to join the team in Austria after playing 78 minutes for the Union on Sunday night. In goal for the US was Downingtown's Zack Steffen.
At The Bent Musket, Stephanie Yang comprehensively — and rightly — demolishes the notion that past accomplishments trump current form when it comes to Abby Wambach earning a spot on the US roster for the Women's World Cup. "There's nothing wrong with recognizing Wambach's past accomplishments and her contribution to the sport. The error lies in thinking that past performance justifies present reward." Yang's commentary piece points to a recent article at Fox Soccer as the latest example of such wrong-thinking and also links to an earlier article at The Equalizer that shows Wambach's goal scoring "as a whole hasn't dropped off — except for against the world best teams."
the latest Footy on the Telly for today's Champions League quarterfinal games.
The AP reports, "European lawmakers are likely to urge FIFA to re-vote on awarding the 2022 World Cup to Qatar. The Parliamentary Assembly of the Council of Europe says it will discuss the issue Thursday."
The AP reports, "Spartak Moscow have been fined and their fans barred from two away games after the club lost their appeal against sanctions for a racist banner." The sanctions come from the Russian Football Union. The fine? 200,000 rubles, or about $3,782.
The Guardian reports, "A referee in Switzerland had to abandon a match in one of Zurich's amateur leagues after the pitch was invaded by thousands of frogs." A club official said, "The frogs were travelling to the forest — unfortunately, our [field] is on the way there."
Author: Ed Farnsworth Editor-at-large at PSP. His work has also appeared at Philly.com, TheCup.us, Society for American Soccer History, The Encylopedia of Greater Philadelphia, Centro de Investigaciones de Historia y Estadística del Fútbol Español, EPYSA.org, and in the 2011 MLS All-Star Game program. Email him at efarnsworth@phillysoccerpage.com. Follow him on Twitter at @FarnsworthPSP.
John Ling says:
"The latest in the Union's 'Mic'd Up' video series features Maurice Edu during last week's draw at NYCFC. I've said it before and I'll say it again, I love this sort of thing."
I would love to be able to sit and rewatch a whole game with the Mic'd Up audio playing. I think that would be absolutely fascinating. I understand why they don't do it – language unfit for sensitive ears, plus the possibility of some sort of super-duper double secret information leaking out. But I think that would be fascinating – sort of like the "Commentary" feature on DVDs.
Jeremy Lane says:
I'd love that especially if the whole team and Curtin were all wearing mics. That would be fascinating. Difficult to listen to with multiple people talking at once, maybe, so perhaps you'd have to listen to particular feeds one or two at a time, but man, that would be something.
Noticed the last thing Edu says in the video is when he's talking to Curtin he says something like, "I know what you're going to say—the dribble, right?" And Curtin responds, "Right at the end!" and laughs. At least they both know that was a bad decision on Mo's part.
Pfeffer called up by US U-23s, Union woes, Union Academy drops second GA Cup game, US faces Switzerland, moreMarch 31, 2015
Cheesesteaks, sweepstakes, replacement refs for week 2, more newsMarch 12, 2014
PPL Park now Talen Energy Stadium, Academy's Dos Santos and McGann get US U-17 callup, moreDecember 1, 2015
Notes from Curtin's presser, #jackscoredthat, more newsApril 30, 2015


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Fear of Flying: Savelyev's Tereshkova Flies to Mars
Igor Savelyev's short novel Терешкова летит на Марс (Mission to Mars in Amanda Love Darragh's upcoming translation from Glas) takes a dim view of the generation that was in its early twenties during the final moments of December 31, 2006, when Mission to Mars opens. The first sentence in the book is "Путин замолчал."—"Putin fell silent." Now that Putin has finished his New Year's Eve address, there are shots of the Kremlin, then the Russian anthem plays and "2007" flashes on the TV screen.
Mission to Mars focuses on Pasha, an unfocused, unmotivated guy whose very focused, very motivated girlfriend, Natasha, has just moved from provincial Russia to Pittsburgh. Pasha's the guy who chose the vaguely named "social-humanitarian" department of the pedagogical institute for his higher education: the department is best known for a deficit of males and low admission standards. Pasha's two best friends are a guy from another city who moved away from some juvenile crime problems and an aspiring writer.
Pasha manages to find himself a job at the airline ARTavia, where Max, a distant relative, works. The airline focuses on вип-клиенты, VIP clients, flying them to Moscow (and only Moscow!) on planes that are all business class. The best part of ARTavia, however, is that it promises no crashes: Max says their liners just can't, won't, wouldn't crash. Ever. ARTavia even holds regular meetings with clients to pound that into their heads like a mantra. Almost literally: it's interesting to see how Savelyev portrays corporate promises and loyal clients almost like a cult. Pasha, however, learns certain truths about ARTavia and, with a little help from his afore-mentioned friends—and Olga, a young woman whose wealthy parents signed her up for ARTavia—reveals it to the public.
Their handiwork is, as might be expected, not very handy. And things end up badly, very, very badly, between Pasha and Olga, whose company Pasha had been enjoying in Natasha's absence. It's not enough to call Pasha's behavior loutish and disappointing: his absolute lack of feeling and mercy made his rating dive from relatively harmless directionlessness and dumbheadery to real, multileveled cruelty. (I don't want to say too much, particularly because the book is coming out in translation.)
Cosmonaut Valentina Tereshkova
Savelyev consistently portrays Pasha as someone who respects people who are goal-oriented—e.g. Natasha, who's primarily a distant presence—but Pasha just is what he is, writes Savelyev, complete with failures, ups, and downs. It doesn't make for a very hopeful picture. It's telling that the figure in the book with the biggest goals isn't a fictional character: she's cosmonaut Valentina Tereshkova who, despite being 70 years old, says she'd like to fly to Mars. Tereshkova, by the way, really did say that in an interview with a reporter, even answering a question about UFOs by saying she hasn't seen any but might if she were to fly to Mars.
Mission to Mars reads fairly easily and Savelyev does a nice job placing his characters within a social, personal, and mental stagnation that feels constructed specially for an aimless, hopeless character like Pasha. And his friends. Details like an escalator lady in Moscow and a reference to Twin Peaks add another layer to Pasha's reality and unreality. The novel is funny at times but it's also very bleak, so I felt myself wincing more than once at quietly sad details of lives and life… and the feeling of being trapped, something Savelyev describes with substantial success.
Up Next: Evgenii Vodolazkin's Laurus, which I'm still enjoying.
Disclaimers: I've met, briefly, Igor Savelyev several times at book fairs and events and am working on translations for publisher Glas.
Photo of Valentina Tereshkova in 1969, from RIA Novosti, Creative Commons.
Labels: Igor Savelyev, post-Soviet fiction, Russian novels
A Ridiculously Long & Terribly Inelegant Potpourri: Awards, Events & Conference with Book Fair in Boston
Awards first: Irina Povolotskaya won the Belkin Prize earlier this month for her Пациент и Гомеопат (The Patient and the Homeopath). And Academia Rossica announced this week at the SLOVO festival that Pola Lem won the Rossica Young Translators Award.
On to conference with book fair: I went to slushy Boston earlier this month for the Association of Writers & Writing Programs conference. The AWP conference is a gigundo event that's as impersonal as the organization's name… though I did enjoy a few of the panels and, of course, the book fair, which included lots of small presses and journals. Some conference highlights… for writing technique: Peter Elbow's talk "The Wisdom of the Tongue: Harnessing the Music of Speech for Good Writing," looked at intonation units in speech and gave me some great theory to back up my practices for translating dialogue. I can see why one writing teacher told me Elbow's considered a rock star in the field; I was only too happy to order up his Vernacular Eloquence… for translation: panels on Polish poetry, where it was fun to recognize commonalities with Russian, and hearing James Ragan read from and speak about his translations of poetry by Yevgeny Yevtushenko. Ragan said he never stops worrying that he missed something or somehow failed… for disappointment: the lowestlight of the conference was that the room for the panel "Opening Her Veins: Variations on Poems by Marina Tsvetaeva in Two Voices" was so far beyond SRO that I couldn't even stand in the hallway to hear the speakers. On the bright side: of course I'm very happy Tsvetaeva is such a draw!
The book fair gave me a bunch more entries for past, present, and future translation lists, so I've already made some updates to the 2012 and 2013 lists and started thinking about 2014. A few to mention… New York Review Books will publish a new Krzhizhanovsky collection (translator, Joanne Turnbull) in October and a new Pushkin collection (translators, Robert and Elizabeth Chandler) next year… A Canadian publisher, Biblioasis, has a lovely illustrated edition of three Chekhov stories, About Love, translated by David Helwig… Northwestern University Press publishes quite a few translations of Russian-language books and had many on display, including copies of Anne O. Fisher's translation of Ilf and Petrov's The Twelve Chairs, Diane Nemec Ignashev's translation of Victor Martinovich's Paranoia, as well as a bilingual book of Marina Tsvetaeva's work that includes translations by Robin Kemball. And I bought Erik Butler's translation (from the Yiddish) of Der Nister's Regrowth… It was also nice to see Zephyr Press's books: Zephyr has a huge selection of translations by Central and East European authors, mostly poets published in bilingual editions… One of my favorite books I brought home came from the people of Merriam-Webster, who gave me the Dictionary of English Usage for my reference shelf… On a non-Russian note, I'm also excited about Lionheart, James Anderson's translation of Thorvald Steen's Norwegian-language novel, which University of Chicabo Press/Seagull Books gave me… I brought back two huge stacks of books so will stop there.
Alexander Vvedensky
Off-site events were the real highpoint of AWP, perhaps because they were planned by organizations not called AWP. An evening-with-poetry in a restaurant, for example, included readings of Danuta Borchardt's translations of Cyprian Norwid and Barbara Siegel Carlson's translations of Srečko Kosovel… as well as my introduction to a Russian theater in the Boston area, Theater on the Roof. An event with St. Petersburg Review that began with readings by Kadija George, Brian Sousa, and Irina Mashinski was a great opportunity to finally meet Mikhail Iossel and Jeff Parker, the editors of Rasskazy, in real life. Parker and Maria Gusev, who was also in Boston, are translating Zakhar Prilepin's San'kya. My favorite event, though, was a reading at the Grolier Poetry Book Shop, where translators read from new collections from New York Review Books. Don Share read from Miguel Hernández and Matvei Yankelevich read from An Invitation for Me to Think, a book of translations of Alexander Vvedensky's poetry for which Eugene Ostashevsky is listed as selector and primary translator, with Yankelevich providing additional translations. Edwin Frank, NYRB's editorial director, likened the books to "poetry baseball cards," fittingly so since the books are small and brightly colored, with a "collect them all" feel. Titles like "Stomach Rumbling During Confession of Love" are certainly memorable.
As for coming events: anyone in the New York area interested in hearing Ostashevsky and Yankelevich read their translations of Vvedensky—and/or Share reading his translations of Hernández, which I also enjoyed—is in lots of luck. Read Russia is hosting a book launch party on March 27 for An Invitation for Me To Think. Then NYRB will host four related events in April; three will focus on the Russian Avant-Garde and OBERIU. (NYRB April event calendar) Speakers will include Ostashevsky and Yankelevich, plus Richard Sieburth, Michael Kunichika, Bela Shayevich, Ainsley Morse, and Kirill Medvedev. A special note on Kirill Medvedev: I bought It's No Good, an English-language collection of Medvedev's writings, from Ugly Duckling Presse at the AWP book fair and couldn't put it down during my Amtrak ride home. The book is described as including poems, essays, and actions; it's translated by Keith Gessen (who also wrote an introduction) with Mark Krotov, Cory Merrill, and Bela Shayevich. Gessen writes in his introduction, "I don't know if our translations can capture the honesty, transparency, and passion of Medvedev's writing, both in his essays and in his poems, but we've tried." I've only read teeny snippets of Medvedev's poetry in Russian and haven't compared translations with originals but as I read I could certainly feel all the things Gessen was hoping to capture. And a lot more. Here are three reviews of It's No Good that help explain: New York Times (Dwight Garner), Los Angeles Review of Books (Jeff Parker), and Three Percent (Will Evans).
Though I'm sorry none of these events are close enough for my calendar, I have a great consolation prize: Dina Khapaeva will speak about "When Dostoevsky's Nightmares are Coming True: Gothic Aesthetics in Contemporary Russian Society" at Bowdoin College on March 27. I've read and enjoyed chunks of Khapaeva's very engaging Кошмар: литература и жизнь (Nightmare: Literature and Life)—she covers writers including Gogol, Dostoevsky, and Pelevin—so am looking forward to her talk. Maybe I'll even write about it.
Up Next: Igor Savelyev's Tereshkova Flies to Mars, a noughties novel known as Mission to Mars in English: Amanda Love Darragh's translation will be out this summer from Glas. And then Evgenii Vodolazkin's Laurus, which brings me back to the Middle Ages in just the right way.
Disclaimers: The usual. In addition to the books I mentioned receiving from publishers at no charge, NYRB sent me a review copy of the Vvedensky book; I am collaborating on a story that will appear in a book that NYRB will publish.
Labels: Alexander Vvedensky, available in translation(s), book fairs, Kirill Medvedev, literary translation
Favorite Russian Writers А to Я: Rybakov
Alphabet favorites are back! Though my entry for the Letter R (Р) is a bit limited in terms of all-out favorites, there are enough writers I like—with the hope for turns to the even-more-positive—that I'm not going to skip R like I skipped N and O.
My one true favorite for R is Anatolii Rybakov, despite my somewhat limited experience reading him: Rybakov's Дети Арбата (Children of the Arbat), the first volume of a trilogy, is enough. I read the trilogy before I started writing the blog but I did keep a book diary then, where I praised the first volume most, called the second "awful," and summed up with, "The books were definitely flawed but they did manage to capture something important: the mood and stories of a lost portion of a generation." Rybakov's Тяжёлый песок (Heavy Sand) (previous post) left me with mixed feelings a few years ago, too, but I suspect I'd probably appreciate its characters and storytelling techniques far more now, after reading so much more fiction (much of it by Margarita Khemlin, who's also from Chernigov) set in Ukraine. I also have a sentimental reason for favoriting Rybakov: he made a reading in my department when I was in grad school. I think this was in 1986, though I remember almost nothing except that Rybakov made a positive impression.
Another R-letter writer I've enjoyed is Irina Ratushinskaya; I read Alyona Kojevnikov's translation of Ratushinskaya's prison camp memoir Grey Is the Color of Hope in the late eighties or early nineties. I read a fair bit of fiction and nonfiction about prison camps when I was in college but I think Ratushinskaya's book has stuck with me through the years because her story was contemporary: she was in prison in 1983, the year I first visited the Soviet Union. Ratushinskaya's Тень портрета (The Portrait's Shadow) didn't impress me much in my preblog years but I've heard good things about her Одесситы (The Odessans), which I bought last year and keep meaning to read sooner rather than later.
As for others… Andrei Rubanov is another writer that's left me with mixed impressions: his Chlorophyllia (previous post) and All That Glitters (previous post) were both enjoyable and pretty decent but just didn't feel quite as good as I thought they should/could/would be. I read some of the stories in Rubanov's Shameful Feats/Exploits at the beach last summer and thought they were decent, too. As with Dina Rubina (see below!), Rubanov's short fiction feels more controlled and focused than his novels. I like Rubanov's ability to combine genres and appreciate his blunt talk very, very much.
I've also enjoyed some of Dina Rubina's writing, particularly her short story "Apples from Shlitzbutter's Garden" (previous post), though I find some of her writing too overstuffed with detail. I have a couple collections of Rubina's short and medium-length works—several readers have particularly recommended her shorter, earlier writings to me—and hope to find more that I like.
Remizov.
As for classics, hmm, well, I guess I'm pretty much at zero… I have some vague remembrance of reading Kondratii Ryleev's poetry in grad school but am probably more likely to seek out Aleksei Remizov, whom I seem to have ignored all these years. He sounds like a stylistically interesting writer, so I'd welcome recommendations! And there's one modern poet that's been recommended to me many times over the years, Nikolai Rubtsov, whose books I received as gifts back in the late eighties or early nineties.
Up Next: A trip report about the Association of Writers & Writing Programs conference in slushy Boston. Igor Savelyev's Tereshkova Flies to Mars, known as Mission to Mars in English: Amanda Love Darragh's translation will be out this summer from Glas. And then Evgenii Vodolazkin's Laurus.
Image: Aleksei Remizov, via Wikipedia.
Labels: Anatolii Rybakov, Andrei Rubanov, Dina Rubina, Irina Ratushinskaya
Anywhere But Here: Sherga's Underground Ship
Ekaterina Sherga's Подземный корабль (The Underground Ship) is a neatly structured novel about Moscow in the noughties, in 2003, a setting that feels, in Sherga's treatment, like a terribly lonely place. Sherga builds her novel in two lines, focusing on two main characters and their living spaces: Mstislav Romanovich Morokhov, a businessman, has just moved into an apartment complex called Madagascar and Alexander L. comes to inhabit an exclusive museum-like store called British Empire.
The Underground Ship tacks more toward atmosphere than plot, and Sherga, who writes with a light but very confident touch, somehow manages to build suspense that draws, in large part, on the two men's housing situations. Madagascar is a brand-new double-tower complex but Morokhov is its only resident, swimming in the pool, ordering drinks from the bar, and occasionally running across mysterious people who aren't members of the complex's staff. The whole Madagascar experience seems more than a little strange; a description of a marketing video that shows a man grilling four huge skewers of shashlik sums things up nicely. The man smiles and the camera pulls away, showing the size of an uninhabited terrace, then we get, "Кого он собрался кормить? Какая-то метафора тотального одиночества." ("Who was he going to feed? What a metaphor for total loneliness.")
Alexander L. comes into the book a bit later, after he and Morokhov are in the same restaurant at the same time: one of Morokhov's friends tries to remember details about Alexander L. but comes up short. Alexander L. overhears their conversation and commences to tell his own story, in diary form. He describes his work at oddball organizations (e.g. the Club for Traditional Values, which really brought me back to my years in Moscow) and then his hiring as a night watchman at British Empire, where he's surrounded by lovely antique items. After British Empire stops serving the public, (not that much of anybody ever came to buy much of anything anyway), Alexander L. stays on rent-free, not quite able to figure out who runs things. He eventually gets in touch with old friends and slides into a new career.
I found the housing situations in The Underground Ship the most interesting piece of the book: Morokhov and Alexander L. both live alone, rattling around fairly large abodes and doing far more than just escaping the crowded communal apartments in fiction set in the Soviet era. Morokhov solves a mystery of sorts, even if it's only a mystery to him. And Alexander L. feels like a cousin of other apartment sitters I've met—the main character of Mikhail Butov's Freedom, for example, and Petrovich in Vladimir Makanin's Underground—meaning he's uncertain about his place in life. He even has to go through all sorts of fuss to gather up his documents, papers that prove aspects his identity. In the course of retrieving his papers, he takes a bus, where the man next to him throws up. Alexander L. sits there, cold, tired, broke, unemployed. "Вот что я, такой умный, получил от жизни, смог выбить из неё. Вот мне за всё награда." (Literally, "There's what I, so smart, got from life, what I managed to beat out of it. There's my reward for everything.")
Of course Morokhov and Alexander L. both live in housing named for far-away places. And both places also feel temporally removed from 2003 Moscow, with the British Empire focused on the past—there's even an old globe to emphasize geopolitical changes—and the uninhabited Madagascar feeling futuristic with its zipping elevators and modern architecture. The housing gives the impression that both men are living "anywhere but here." Meaning anywhere but Moscow, Russia.
Morokhov doesn't pretend to live on Madagascar and Alexander L. hasn't traveled across time and borders to the British Empire, but both men seem, for varying reasons and to varying degrees, to be experiencing forms of what's known in Russian as "внутренняя эмиграция" (internal emigration). Their (e)migrations become more real, more external, as the book progresses, though I don't want to explain why. The two men's plot lines briefly converge a few times but their situations complement each other beautifully, alternating and creating a steady balance of surrealism (a candle made to look like Morokhov's head), odd humor (a party at which Titanic is reenacted), and suspense (who's really running things?). All of which results in a wonderfully readable novel that feels both very real and, foggily, almost creepily, very abstract and lonely. I thoroughly enjoyed it.
P.S. I should have mentioned the SLOVO Russian Literature Festival, which begins in London on March 5, ages ago... but better late than never! Thank you to Academia Rossica for the reminder. Here's the schedule: it includes some fun-sounding events, like, oh, a translator roundtable. I won't be there but I'm going to Boston for a few days next week, for the Association of Writers & Writing Programs conference, which has some interesting international and translation-related events on the schedule, too.
Disclaimers: I learned about The Underground Ship from author Ekaterina Sherga, a Facebook friend I have yet to met in real life.
Up Next: Favorites from the letter R. Igor Savelyev's Терешкова летит на Марс, which is coming out this summer in Amanda Love Darragh's translation for Glas; it's known as Mission to Mars. Though I've only read a small part of Savelyev's book, it feels like a nice follow up to The Underground Ship: it also takes place in the noughties and looks at ambitions, lifestyles, and crossing borders.
Labels: Ekaterina Sherga, post-Soviet fiction, Russian novels
A Ridiculously Long & Terribly Inelegant Potpourri...


text:
Kings Top 20 prospects, Spring 2009
By David A. Rainer
Top 20 at a glance
1. Oscar Moller 8.0B
2. Thomas Hickey 8.0C
3. Jonathan Bernier 8.0C
4. Jonathan Quick 7.5C
5. Colten Teubert 7.5C
6. Ted Purcell 7.0C
7. Vyacheslav Voinov 7.0C
8. Brian Boyle 7.0C
9. Trevor Lewis 7.0C
10. Martin Jones 7.0C
11. Matt Moulson 7.0C
12. Jeff Zatkoff 7.0C
13. Alec Martinez 6.0C
14. Bryan Cameron 6.0C
15. Justin Azevedo 7.0F
16. Andrei Loktionov 6.5D
17. Garrett Roe 6.5D
18. Scott Parse 6.5D
19. Marc-Andre Cliche 6.0C
20. Dwight King 6.0C
1. (6) Oscar Moller, RW
2nd round, 52nd overall, 2007
Only a shoulder injury sustained during the World Junior Championships prevented Moller from graduating before the release of this ranking. Having secured himself with a roster spot with the Kings during training camp, Moller hit the ground running in his first season in professional hockey. Even with major junior hockey eligibility remaining, Moller broke camp with the Kings and contributed solid all-around play on the third line, including spot starts as a top-six forward. By the time the Kings released Moller to play for Team Sweden during the WJCs, Moller was skating a regular shift as a top-six forward. A shoulder injury, which was sustained during the tournament but diagnosed as a broken clavicle only after the tournament, kept Moller from returning to the Kings. He is already back from his injury and contributing once again to the Los Angeles efforts to make the playoffs. Moller is already a top-six caliber forward for the Kings and is still developing with a strong possibility of being a top-line forward.
2. (3) Thomas Hickey, D
1st round, 4th overall, 2007
Having tremendously raised his stock since the beginning of the season, Hickey might be No. 2 in these rankings but is nearly in a dead heat with Moller as the top Kings prospect. Hickey was unable to earn a roster spot with Los Angeles during training camp and was returned to Seattle of the WHL. Concentrating more on his defensive game and shutting down the opposition, Hickey's offensive numbers took a dip to begin the season with Seattle. After anchoring a stellar Team Canada during the WJCs, Hickey returned to the Thunderbirds and exploded offensively without neglecting the defensive responsibilities that he focused on to begin the season. Hickey is recognized as the clear best defenseman on the ice most nights irrespective of the team the Thunderbirds are playing. It appears that Hickey is ready to make the move to professional hockey and may be emerging onto the Los Angeles roster to begin the 2009-10 season.
3. (2) Jonathan Bernier, G
1st round, 11th overall, 2006
The developmental process is often simply about converting potential to production. This aspect has been missing from Bernier this season en route to losing out to Jonathan Quick for a promotion to Los Angeles and Daniel Taylor as the starter in net for the Manchester Monarchs. The season began with Bernier as starter for the Monarchs, but a merely average start opened the door for Quick to split time in Manchester. When Los Angeles came searching for a replacement goaltender, it was Quick who earned the promotion, leaving Bernier to assume complete starting duties in Manchester. His production began to fall off, again opening the door for Taylor to secure playing time where he has temporarily supplanted Bernier as the starter. Bernier is universally recognized for a tremendous amount of potential with refined technique, but Bernier must learn patience and consistency if his potential is ever going to be converted to production.
4. (14) Jonathan Quick, G
3rd round, 72nd overall, 2005
Quick has been the willing beneficiary of Bernier's challenges. After playing his way into regular playing time in Manchester, Quick earned a promotion to Los Angeles occasioned by an injury to Erik Ersberg. By the time Ersberg was ready to return, Los Angeles was ready to trade someone to keep Quick in the line-up. Two shutouts in his first five games put Quick squarely on the map as an emerging NHL goaltender. Six wins out of seven road games on an east coast swing in February meant that Quick was the Kings goaltender to stay and a long-shot candidate for the Calder Trophy. If Bernier is the Kings goaltender of the future, he will need to beat out Quick for the job. Quick is one of the more athletic goaltenders in the NHL and can steal a game, something that is lacking in the skill-sets of the other goaltender prospects for the Kings and can give him a clear leg up in remaining as the starter in net for the next decade.
5. (4) Colten Teubert, D
The excellent beginning to this season has largely been overshadowed by Teubert's recent struggles since returning from the WJCs. Vastly increasing his goal, assist and plus/minus rates from prior seasons, Teubert was on his way to competing as the top defenseman still in major junior hockey. His pairing with fellow Kings prospect Hickey during the WJCs helped bring a gold medal to Team Canada. But lackluster play and inconsistency began to infect Teubert's game upon return to the Regina Pats of the WHL. He has already been signed to an entry-level contract and will compete again next training camp for a spot on the Los Angeles roster, but he must first learn to harness his energy and aggressiveness to make them an asset and not a liability. At the tender age of 18, the sky's the limit. But the fine line between an elite, physical defenseman and an over-aggressive, out of position defenseman is discipline.
6. (5) Ted Purcell, RW
Signed as free agent, 2007
Expected to break camp with Los Angeles, Purcell did little to earn a roster position and was assigned to Manchester to begin the season. Taking the minor set-back in stride, Purcell competed hard while in Manchester and was one of the first call-ups to Los Angeles in December. A rocky and inconsistent stint with Los Angeles ended with his reassignment to Manchester in mid-January, despite solid offensive numbers. Purcell began to find his game on both sides of the ice in his second tour with Manchester and has since been recalled to Los Angeles. Regardless of the ultimate outcome, it is evident that Purcell is on the cusp of the NHL and is nearly ready to assume full-time duties. Depending upon whether Los Angeles moves one or more of their veteran forwards at the trade deadline, Purcell might have seen the last of Manchester.
7. (10) Vyacheslav Voinov, D
A great start to his hockey career in North America has pushed Voinov up these rankings. Dropping into the second round during the draft due to concerns over his signability out of Russia, Voinov has demonstrated first-round potential in placing 10th in point-per-game average for rookie AHL defensemen – the only 18-year-old in the group – despite being slowed by nagging injuries. He has firmly established himself as the top offensive defenseman for Manchester and is still developing. His offensive potential is endless, but still only potential. Voinov could earn himself some on-the-job training in Los Angeles as early as next season should the need for another offensive defenseman arise. However, he must first improve on his decision-making and defensive awareness as NHL coaches are reluctant to trust young defensemen if they are not at least sound in their decisions.
8. (7) Brian Boyle, C
1st round, no. 26 overall, 2003
Like Purcell, there was a strong possibility that Boyle would spend the entire season with the Kings. Unfortunately, like Purcell, Boyle did little to earn his keep in Los Angeles and was sent back to Manchester after unmotivated play. He has managed to stay in the Los Angeles lineup for 20 games, but mustered only two points, showing more of a tendency to play on the periphery than to stay strong around the net. The excitement that was gained last season has largely dissipated and morphed back into the questions of old. Boyle is an enormous talent, both in terms of skill as well as size, but needs to show more than he has demonstrated to date. He is battling Purcell and Matt Moulson for playing time in the NHL and may need to wait until next training camp to start anew and re-establish himself.
9. (8) Trevor Lewis, RW
Lewis is another prospect that needed to convert potential to production this season. While he has not taken the AHL by storm this season, he has shown marked offensive improvement, enough to earn a six-game try-out with Los Angeles, scoring three points for the Kings. It has been a relatively successful second professional season for this 22-year-old. As a late bloomer, it was understood that Lewis would take some additional time to develop his rough skills and might require a third full season in Manchester before ready to fully push for a roster spot with Los Angeles. The Kings would like to see him first dominate the AHL and grow a little more assertive in his game before moving to the next level. Lewis has at least proven this season that he is progressing.
10. (NR) Martin Jones, G
Dean Lombardi searched the collective bargaining agreement with a magnifying glass and found in the small print a way to steal a top prospect. Signed to an entry-level contract during training camp under section 8.9(b)(ii) of the collective bargaining agreement, which allows teams to sign a player otherwise still subject to the Entry Draft if that player was passed over in the Entry Draft and signed to a tryout contract in training camp, Martin Jones has lived up to the Kings investment in him. He is in the top three in most goaltender statistical categories for the WHL, including an overwhelming 42-3-3-1 record. At only 19 years of age, Jones represents the second wave of goaltender prospects for the Kings who will be competing for playing time in Manchester as Bernier and Zatkoff begin to move up and into the NHL. Jones may not have been in the goaltending conversation to begin the season, but has certainly shown that he is at least a viable candidate to eventually wear a Kings sweater.
11. (11) Matt Moulson, LW
The last of the three prospect forwards expected to spend the bulk of his season in Los Angeles, Moulson also found himself eventually reassigned to Manchester as the 19-year-olds Moller and Simmonds pushed him out of a job. He picked up right where he left off in Manchester in maintaining a point-per-game pace. Unfortunately for his prospect status, Moulson is getting up in age and running out of opportunities with so many younger and more highly-skilled forwards are vying already vying for playing time in Los Angeles. While Moulson has the benefit of playing left wing in an organization woefully thin in left wings, he is likely not to exceed the third line in Los Angeles, a position often given to the on-the-job training of younger prospects. He is still a serviceable fill-in forward option or may be used in a package trade if determined that there are not enough forward positions available for the number of forwards ready to compete in the NHL.
12. (12) Jeff Zatkoff, G
3rd round, 74th overall, 2006
Seemingly lost in the talk of Quick and Bernier is the other top professional netminder in the Kings organization, Jeff Zatkoff. He received brief taste of action in the AHL when Quick was promoted to Los Angeles, but soon was reassigned to Ontario of the ECHL to receive top minutes instead of an occasional start in Manchester. Zatkoff is a solid prospect and a steady goaltender who will rarely beat himself, but has been passed over on the depth charts by others who have either accomplished more to date or have more physical skills. Quick appears to be in the NHL to stay, leaving both Bernier and Zatkoff to compete for the top minor league position with the losing netminder possibly being shipped out in a trade within the next year or two. While it may appear to be an issue finding enough playing time for goaltenders in the Kings system, it is an unexpected and refreshing problem to have.
13. (15) Alec Martinez, D
4th round, no. 95 overall, 2007
Signing an entry-level contract in the offseason after leaving Miami University early, Martinez has had a season of adjustment with Manchester. Slow to start the season, Martinez has gotten better as the season has gone on, finally breaking out with an offensive explosion in the month of February. He is a more mature and reliable defenseman than Voinov is right now and so might be the more reliable offensive defenseman to call up in an injury situation for the Kings. With the top four defensive positions in Los Angeles locked up with Jack Johnson, Drew Doughty, Matt Greene and Kyle Quincey, the final two spots will be fought over by a number of different defensemen, three of whom are more highly esteemed than Martinez. It will be an uphill battle for Martinez to crack the Los Angeles line-up and is an insurance policy if Voinov fails to develop.
14. (NR) Bryan Cameron, C
The forward prospect who has come the longest way so far this season has been Bryan Cameron. Already well thought of and a steady producer in the OHL, Cameron elevated his game to another level and has been consistently in the top five in scoring. A three-game suspension in early February knocked him off his game and slowed his pace a bit, but he remains in the top 10 in league scoring. A solid skater and good team player, Cameron has likely already earned himself a tryout contract and future assignment to Manchester at the conclusion of the Belleville season. As Manchester has been below average on the power play this season, Cameron will be a welcome addition to their special teams as he knows how to work the open areas of ice to his advantage for quality scoring opportunities.
15. (NR) Justin Azevedo, C
6th round, 153rd overall, 2008
Azevedo, because of his slight build, will need to silence the naysayers with each step in his development. Early in his professional career, Azevedo is not having any trouble proving his critics wrong, scoring nearly a point per game for Manchester. While this bodes well for his development, he needs to dominate the AHL offensively before being considered as a legitimate option for the NHL. When he is not scoring, there is not much else to his game that is a positive contribution to the team effort. So score he must and score he has thus far. Since Lombardi is known for rewarding good play in the minors with brief tryouts in Los Angeles, and as no one will know how Azevedo will adjust to the size of the NHL without throwing him into the fire, Azevedo is a good candidate to receive a five-game stint if the Kings are eliminated from the playoff race.
16. (NR) Andrei Loktionov, C
5th round, no. 123 overall, 2008
Another 2008 draftee who slid down the draft board due to concerns over signability, Loktionov immediately crossed the Atlantic to join the extremely talented Windsor Spitfires this season. And he has more than contributed his share to that wealth of talent. Loktionov has stayed above a point per game pace for virtually the entire season en route to being named to Team Russia of the CHL/Russia Challenge. At the age of 18, he is an unpolished player with raw offensive skills who is largely still learning the game. Loktionov will benefit greatly from patience from the Kings and not rushing him into situations that he is unprepared for where bad habits could develop. As the Kings are well stocked in forward prospects in the minor leagues, Loktionov could stand to wait another season before moving on to the next step.
17. (NR) Garrett Roe, C
There is a very talented group of sophomores vying for the Hobey Baker award this season and Roe is leading the charge. Like Azevedo, he is a diminutive forward with a tremendous drive who has found in college hockey a place to thrive. Not unlike former Kings prospect Connor James, Roe may find a niche for himself in the organization as an elusive forward who can create match-up problems for the opposition. If nothing else, he could develop into a depth forward for the organization as a low-risk prospect out of the seventh round.
18. (18) Scott Parse, LW
6th round, 174th overall, 2004
Returning to the lineup after missing almost the entire 2007-08 season with various injuries, Parse has made solid contributions to the Monarchs offensively. He is only the second left wing in these rankings and the shine has largely diminished from his former status as a top prospect when he graduated from college hockey. He continues to be an option for Los Angeles by virtue of the extremely thin group of left wing prospects at their disposal. At 24 years old, he is running out of time to convince the organization he belongs in the NHL, but holds onto the bottom of these rankings.
19. (19) Marc-Andre Cliche, RW
Trade with New York Rangers, 2007
Cliche began the season on the disabled list and only recently has returned to the line-up. He finished last season as a speedy defensive forward and it would be unfair to downgrade him before he has had an opportunity to show his development this season. He showed enough in training camp to add his name to the list of Monarch forwards who could be called upon in an emergency situation. That assessment has not changed as he tries to play his way back into mid-season shape in Manchester. Cliche will not develop into an offensive force, but can be just as valuable in a defensive role on a stopper line in the NHL.
20. (NR) Dwight King, LW
Many prospects could have landed at the No. 20 position in these rankings. But this time around, the final position goes to one of the hardest working left wings in major junior hockey. King is not blessed with tremendous skill. He has a large and broad frame that hustles to create scoring opportunities for himself and his teammates. With the organization short on left wings, King could be a perfect hard-working compliment to more skilled teammates. He represents the fifth draftee from the 2007 class to make these rankings (sixth if not for the recent graduation of Wayne Simmonds).
Missing the cut: Davis Drewiske, Bud Holloway, David Meckler, Geordie Wudrick


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