Archive for the ‘Pictures’ Category

Not at all taken from Howard

Saturday, October 29th, 2016

While doing my researching for the pulp science book, I came upon this little number by Henry Kuttner. It is the opening to “The Citadel of Darkness,” and any similarity to the opening of Howard’s “Phoenix on the Sword” is strictly intentional.

Every Perverse Osmosis song is stolen from DRI, Zeke, or Municipal Waste, so I am not one to point fingers.


Friday, October 21st, 2016

I corpi presentano tracce di violenza carnale (1973) is one proto-slasher that I never watched until the last couple days, and boy, I have been missing out. Less than 10 seconds into the movie, there is pretty much full-frontal nakedness and Torso doesn’t let up from there. Just about every male leers, gawks, or ogles the women; the women, in return, shove burning joints into men’s bare chests [don’t get me wrong; the guys deserve it]. The murderer also saws the arms and legs off his victims.

Keep in mind this is 1973.

In a time when lectures ruled the world.

Don’t worry: this guy isn’t really going to Columbia.

Now time for a jazz cigarette.

When hiding out in a villa, there is nothing like some J&B.

Sure we might be murdered and sawed up, but we are elegant victims.

Oh J&B, you same-sex social lubricant, you.

Hates dolls, hates women, loves J&B.

One thing to remember: “I don’t care if you are queer or impotent, you pay the price anyway.”

Showcasin’ the Joint

Tuesday, October 18th, 2016

As I mentioned yesterday, I also picked up Showcase Showdown’s Halloween song. It came on this 7″ with no writing on the label to show which side is which.


Monday, October 17th, 2016

Thanks to the power of the internet, I managed to have two 7″ records come all the way from merry old England. One is Showcase Showdown’s Halloween song [“The Only Thing Scary About Halloween is Your Fucking Face’], and the other is this Misfits slab of green vinyl

Refreshing to see “Demonomania” get a little air time.

The Pub of the Universe

Sunday, October 16th, 2016

Many of us in the Perverse Osmosis world also swear some form of allegiance to Twin Peaks, Black Lodges, White Lodges, owls, logs, or Shelly Johnsons [the drink, although I am sure someone also has bended the knee to the character].

In this May 1952 issue of New Worlds–who, later, also published Michael Moorcock—I found the pub where certain citizens of Twin Peaks would spend their recreational time.

“When in London, make it a date at the White Horse.”