KAOS: When Greek Myths Meet Pop Music Nostalgia

Despite my best judgment I ended up watching KAOS on Netflix.  The premise seems to be, "What if O Brother Where Art Thou met American Gods and had a threesome with a high school book of Greek Myths?

Which sounds fine, I guess. The main problem - or attraction - is its use of a device I call Stolen Valor. (I'm aware that calling something Stolen Valor that isn't Stolen Valor is in itself Stolen Valor, but I can't think of another name.) This Stolen Valor - Mark II, perhaps - is bringing in legendary slices of pop music at chosen moments to substitute for an Eyeball Kick the visuals can't provide. I can understand why it's done, but the calculatedness takes me out of the moment. 

The very first scene of the series is double-underlined and italicized by the use of the stonking introductory riff of Dire Strait's "Money For Nothing." Whatever you may think of Dire Straits and their legacy, there's no doubt that guitar sound makes the heart beat faster. What was weirder is the director kept it going when the vocals started, yea unto the line "Look at them yo-yos." Slight loss of dignity there, I thought. 

One after another the hits kept coming, with a high point for me being a few bars of The Kills' "Future Starts Slow," another track where the guitar sounds as if it's about ready to burst its skin and swoop down to eat your face. 

By the third of fourth episode I'd gotten used to it, and then they used just a smidgen of Dawn Penn's 1993 reggae classic "You Don't Love Me (No No No)."

It was so good to hear it again, only to have it fade out after the 30-second-long scene was over.

The song goes all the way back to Bo Diddley's "She's Fine, She's Mine" of 1955. Which may be the best version, IMHO. 

But the version I grew up on - from the iconic Immediate Anthology of British Blues Volume 2 - is "You Don't Love Me" by Tony TS McPhee.  With me it's always the guitar sound.

Author signing event for Blood Fiction at Book Carnival, Tustin

Flyer for book signing - details reproduced below

I'll be at a book signing event for Blood Fiction v3. Other authors will be there, along with Mark Sevi, our esteemed editor and story curator. 

October 13th at 2pm at Book Carnival, 348 S. Tustin Street, Orange, CA 92866. 

Snacks and door prizes will be provided - along with book signing, obvs. 

Even if you don't want to meet the Blood Fiction authors, come along - Book Carnival is a wonderful bookshop. Just mosey in and browse!

 

"Good fortune will nod, if you carry upon you Joan the Wad"

 

Joan the Wad is a figure from Cornish folklore, known as the Queen of the Pixies. (Jack O’Lantern is their king.)  In Devon and Cornwall, to the south of England, pixies are little mischievous sprites. The word is often pronounced “piskies.”

My Joan the Wad

They are depicted, rather uncharitably I thought, in Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets as a kind of flying Gremlin.

In folklore, they are fairy folk, little people with a supernatural aspect, associated with both streams and fire. They can appear as a kind of will o’ the wisp. Both Jack O’Lantern and Joan the Wad carry a torch. (A “wad” is a dialect term for a bundle of straw, used as a torch.) Joan the Wad was said to use her torch to lead travelers astray on the moors, but on other occasions could be helpful to people who were lost. Joan is often depicted nude, symbolizing her connection with nature.

During the 19^th and 20^th centuries, little figures of Joan the Wad were produced for humans to wear as lucky charms or carry in their pockets. They’re still made, I understand, as souvenirs for visitors to Cornwall. They are made of brass and depict Joan nude, seated, with her arm over her head. My mother carried one in her purse all her adult life. Unfortunately, I don’t know where her Joan ended up after she passed away, but a few years ago I was fortunate to find one exactly like it, and I keep it in a pocket.

"Good fortune will nod, if you carry upon you Joan the Wad"

Blood Fiction v3 now available to order - two Lyle Hopwood stories within

 I'm very pleased to announce that I have two stories in Blood Fiction v3 (curated once again by Mark Sevi). 

Crossmatch is a tale of exhausting on-call work in a hospital blood bank, with a twist at the end. 

Mummy Wheat is a story about pregnancy, birth, and death, but not in the usual order. There's a digression on Mummy Wheat, once found in Ancient Egyptian tombs and guaranteed to sprout upon planting, even after thousands of years accompanying a mummy deep in an underground tomb.

The picture of mummy wheat, above, was posted on X by 

@PetrieMuseEgypt

. Sir Flinders Petrie himself gets a namecheck in the story. Though mummies and preserved wheat may sound dry (because they are) the story lives up to the name 'Blood Fiction'!

Bouncing Down Tiller Road: A Tale of Bins and Bras

Apropos of nothing much, I remembered the time I was running down the sidewalk of Tiller Road, London, and woman shouted out of an upper window, "You should wear a bra. Den you woudn go bouncin' down de road!"

I remember it because I was wearing a bra at the time but couldn't work out how to get that information across while running for whatever I was late for.  It's less memorable than the time I walked towards the stairwell, saw a woman holding a baby, and said, not unreasonably I thought, "Hello, baby." The woman replied, "F*ck off, you lesbian c*nt." Ah, memories of the East End.

The property was Hammond House, where students from Queen Mary, University of London were housed. It's on my mind because I'm writing a story about a garbage chute. A lot of the properties in London had them. They have access hatches in the stairwell on each floor, which you open and chuck your rubbish into. In theory, it goes down a kind of chimney and lands in a dumpster. In practice, it often looked like the photo below. 

Hammond House garbage chute 1979. Model is Tina. Photo by Rosie (I think.)

The thin shafts are easily blocked, and the overall amount of crap residents can throw away has increased massively since these flats were built. 

Hammond House was leveled in 2012. The new block appears to have the same arrangement. Due to the magic of Google Street View (1), you can examine the lack of progress. 

Hammond Rubbish Chute, 2009

Hammond House Gone, 2012

New block Garbage Chutes, 2022

As you can see, the method for ridding yourself of household garbage has yet to be updated significantly.

(1) An exciting story by me combining magic and Google Street View is available in Blood Fiction v2, ed. Mark Sevi.