Sleazoid Podcast #10: Filmmaker Ron Atkins is DONE! (Conclusion)

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Sleazoid Podcast #9: Filmmaker Ron Atkins is DONE! (Part 1)

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Sleazoid Podcast #8: Robert Rosen – Part 2 (and final)

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(Explicit / 18+ / NSFW) Sleazoid Podcast #8 is the conclusion to our interview with Robert Rosen, author of Beaver Street – A History of Modern Pornography. It’s time to talk Traci Lords and how porn’s biggest star almost brought an industry down.

Robert Rosen’s book Beaver Street – A History of Modern Pornography is available from Headpress.com in the UK NOW. “Beaver Street” will hit the States March 23, 2012. It will be available from Amazon.com and other great book sellers. You can follow Robert on his blog at RobertRosenNYC.com

Episode 8 music: Lords of Altamont – “Going Nowhere Fast”

Did you miss Sleazoid Podcast #7, part 1 with Robert Rosen? You can find that episode here.

Below is Robert’s prologue from Beaver Street – A History of Modern Pornography

Robert Rosen (center) on the set of one of the countless photo shoots he oversaw while managing the editorial for some of porn's biggest magazines.

(this prologue is ©Robert Rosen)
Once, many years ago, my father owned a candy store on Church Avenue in Brooklyn, around the corner from where we lived. The whole family worked there—my grandfather, my grandmother, sometimes my mother, my uncle in a pinch, and even me. By the time I was nine years old I knew how to mix egg creams, sell cigarettes, and put together the Sunday papers. I also understood on some instinctive level that when a new customer walked in and muttered under his breath, “Where do you keep the books?” he was talking about the special rack in the back of the store where my father stocked some of his favorite works of literature. They includedMy Secret Life, by Anonymous; My Life and Loves, by Frank Harris; The Autobiography of a Flea, also by the ever prolific Anonymous; Tropic of Cancer, by Henry Miller; and Last Exit to Brooklyn, by Hubert Selby.
Every weekend a half-dozen of my father’s cronies—the neighborhood regulars—would gather in the store. Most of them were in their late thirties, my father’s age at the time, and they struck me as a streetwise and sophisticated lot. One of them smoked Gauloises. Another worked for TWA and made monthly “pleasure trips” to Europe. And I’d sit by the window a few feet away, listening to them as I made change for newspapers. Some days they’d amuse themselves deconstructing the New York Giants and their bald but talented quarterback, Y.A. Tittle, whose name they repeated over and over, seemingly for the sheer joy of saying it. Other days they’d swap World War II stories, horrifying tales of seeing corpses piled like cordwood after the Battle of the Bulge, or of butchering a cow—after not eating fresh meat for months—in a French village just liberated from the Nazis. But their greatest flights of oratory fancy, surpassing even the passion they expressed for the Playboy centerfold, were their expert critiques of the latest book to appear on the special rack.

A copy of the work in question would materialize on the counter, and they’d pass it around, scrutinizing the often salacious cover art and laughing uproariously when somebody would spontaneously read a provocative passage soto voce—presumably so the words wouldn’t penetrate my innocent and attentive ears.

Though I was far too young to fully grasp what these books were about or to realize that many of them had made it to the rack only after having survived a protracted censorship battle, the pleasure they gave my father and his friends was unmistakable. It was clear to me even in 1961 that these books mattered—a lot—and that if I were going to write books, which I thought even then I’d like to do, then these were the kinds of books I wanted to someday write.

I’ve been a professional writer now since 1974, when I graduated from the City College of New York. My name is Robert Rosen, and if you’ve heard of me, it’s probably through my John Lennon biography, Nowhere Man, which was a bestseller in the U.S., England, Japan, Mexico, and Colombia.

Now I’ve written a new book—the one you’re reading. I call it Beaver Street: A History of Modern Pornography, and it’s a book that I think might have earned a coveted slot in my father’s special rack. Beaver Street is an investigative memoir, a term I use to describe the interplay of the personal and historical.

Let’s begin with the personal. I worked in pornography as a magazine editor for 16 years, from 1983 to 1999. Among the titles I edited were D-Cup, High Society, Swank, Stag, Succulent, Sex Acts, Stacked, Plump & Pink,Buf, Black Lust, Lesbian Lust, Blondes in Heat, For Adults Only, and X-Rated Cinema. There were hundreds of others—it would be pointless to name them all. But if you’ve got some old porn mags stashed in your drawer, dig them out and take a look at the mastheads. My nom de porn was Bobby Paradise. Perhaps you recognize it.

Or perhaps you recognize that fellow in the photograph on page one. That’s me, or, rather, Bobby Paradise. It’s a test-Polaroid taken on a 110-degree day in June 1999, at Falcon Foto, a photography studio located in an isolated canyon in the San Gabriel Mountains, just north of L.A. The photographer and his crew were setting up to shoot a lesbian-hippie fantasy (working title “Beaver Barbers of ’69”) that I’d ordered for Shaved, one of a dozen titles I was editing at the time. That’s why I’m sitting between two models who look as if they were plucked off a Haight-Ashbury street corner and that’s why I’m wearing a headband and heart-shaped sunglasses. It’s not the way I normally dress, even in California. I was just getting into the spirit of the shoot.

I was directing that day. My job was to tell the models which bits of clothing and lingerie to peel off, which positions to pose in, where to place their fingers, mouths, tongues, breasts, nipples, toes, legs, labia, where to spread the shaving cream, and what to shave first.

This was not necessarily an easy thing to do. It required certain skills—a discerning pornographic eye, a comprehensive knowledge of U.S. and Canadian censorship regulations, a measure of self-control. But it was good work if you could get it… up to a point—a point I’d unfortunately passed sometime in 1995, just as the instant availability of free Internet porn had begun to slowly suck the life out of the men’s-magazine business.

By 1999 I was totally burnt out on smut, on the very idea of having to look at it, of having to think about it, and especially of having to create it under ever more demanding deadline pressure. The fun, to say the least, was gone. But I was trapped, because after 16 years, I didn’t know what else to do. I’d become a professional pornographer and my career options were limited.

That’s one reason I wrote Beaver Street: I wanted to understand the cumulative psychic effect of having spent 192 months immersed in XXX and wondering if I’d ever get out alive. I wanted to understand what I’d witnessed, what I’d done, what I’d become.

What did I witness, aside from women of all races, colors, ages, and body types willingly allowing an army of porn studs to penetrate their every orifice with oversize appendages as skilled photographers stood by capturing it all on film?

Well, for one thing, every day I saw and interacted with people who’d dedicated their lives to the mass production of XXX. Some of them became my close friends, and to better understand them and the nature of a life lived straddling the boundaries between intimacy and professional exhibitionism, I conducted an experiment in participatory journalism: I stepped in front of the camera to see what it was like to be a porn star.

And I witnessed from a ringside seat Ronald Reagan’s terminally corrupt attorney general, Edwin Meese III—a man who’d resign in disgrace to avoid prosecution on charges ranging from influence peddling to suborning perjury—knowingly turn an underage woman, Traci Lords, into the world’s most famous sex star, and then use her as a weapon to attempt to destroy the porn industry as revenge for every legal humiliation pornographers had inflicted on the government since Linda Lovelace and Deep Throat shattered box office records in 1973.

And I saw this government war of vengeance give birth to a new class of super-taboo pornography—the “barely legal” woman—that was so much in demand, it sent sales of all things X-rated skyrocketing into the uncharted realms of the stratosphere.

And finally I saw the Internet transform the underground phenomenon of peep shows, dirty movies, and sleazy magazines into a ubiquitous cyber-force that penetrated virtually every niche of the mainstream media and supplanted rock ’n’ roll as America’s #1 cultural export.

But I’ll begin my story in the mid-seventies, at a time when, just as I was beginning to find my way as a writer, I embraced—perhaps naively or perhaps intuitively—the idea that pornography and transgressive art could be one and the same.

Sleazoid Podcast #7: Robert Rosen – Part 1

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Opening & Closing Music - “Power” by The Green Lady Killers

Below is a sample of magazines featuring Robert Rosen’s editorial skills and talent.

Sleazoid Podcast #6: Underground Comics Legend R. Crumb

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From Crumb's "ID Volume 2", published in 1995

(18+, NSFW) SLEAZOID PODCAST TIME! In this episode, our main topic is legendary artist and illustrator Robert Crumb. We also talk about future guests – author Robert Rosen and filmmaker Ron Atkins among them. We discuss “Cinema Sewer” publisher and illustrator Robin Bougie and his 20 year anniversary of being such. Finally, we talk about new ways to contact us, and we talk about Mike’s movie “Cyclone” being accepted into the Tupelo Underground Film Festival.

Did you know about the new Thumbin Sleazoid Music Compilation Volume 1 – free to all mailing list subscribers? Join the Thumbin mailing list at www.thumbin.com and the compilation is yours – free.

Opening – “The Horse Fuckers” Trailer – courtesy of Drive-In Of The Damned

Opening Music – “Undertakers Lament” – Demons

Mentioned:“Crumb: The Criterion Collection” &  Tupelo Underground Film Festival

Robin Bougie's Cinema Sewer, Issue #24

Sleazoid Podcast #5: You My Caucasian?

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Scene from Joe Sarno's "Sin In The Suburbs"

(18+, NSFW) Putting the sleaze in Sleazoid, it’s another installment of the Sleazoid Podcast. While Kevin takes the night off, we bring on another sleazoid – David Penuel. In this episode, we discuss the history of Thumbin Sleazoid Cinema and its future. We talk about director Joe Sarno and his film “Sin In The Suburbs”, and author Robert Rosen’s “Beaver Street: A History of Modern Pornography”. Finally, we discuss how Myspace blows Facebook away and how much better it is for having a “page” that features creative work and FINDING the creative work of others. We talk about how Facebook sucks the creativity out of having a profile page and how it is merely a way to communicate…like twitter. We also weigh the pros and cons of being there vs not being there. We mention how we jumped on Facebook because “everyone was doing it” but never really enjoyed it as much as our Myspace pages. And the next thing you know, the three of us are relaunching our individual Myspace accounts. COME ON GET HAPPY! It’s the Sleazoid Podcast!

Music In This Show: Show Open – “Ape On Your Back” by Michael Carty | Show Close – “Dirty Penis” by Michael Carty

Mentioned: Banned after one episode on Tucson, Arizona’s public access in 1993 – “The Great Satan At Large” | Part 1, Part 2, and Part 3.

Sleazoid Podcast #4: Birth of the Sleaze

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Actress Shari Eubank in Russ Meyer's "Supervixens"

(18+, NSFW) You won’t want to miss this Show #4. On this episode, we announce that the Sleazoid Podcast is going to a bi-weekly schedule. We feature an excerpt from an incredible phone interview with film legend Russ Meyer, talk about Steve Jobs’ “iResign”, the ridiculousness of the Hollywood remake, and the revelation that it’s not the gear that’s important, it’s the person using it. Finally we announce that future episodes will get back to the true roots of Thumbin’ Sleazoid Cinema and refocus the direction of the Sleazoid Podcast into all things fringe and counter-culture. You may know these things as…..sleaze. So come on! It’s Sleazoid-a-riffic.

Picks of the week: Mike - BadMags.com | Kevin – Nik Software/U-Point Technology | Carty – “The Reef“

Featured music: “Sun Baby” – The High Violets

Sleazoid Podcast #3: Guest Shawn Rorie

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On this episode we welcome composer/guitarist/songwriter Shawn Rorie. We discuss Shawn’s start in 80′s LA bands, being a band member with Steven Adler of Guns N Roses, and his current work of composing and scoring for feature films and TV. We even discuss the dark, horrific side of the recording industry. We also talk about the reasons why Show 3 was delayed a week and Shawn joins us in our picks of the week.

Picks of the week: Mike – Spotify | Kevin – “Let The Right One In“/”Let Me In” | Carty – TelevisionTunes.com | Shawn – CrashPlan.com

Sleazoid Podcast #2: Guest Sabrina Davenport

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Hosts: Mike Ashcraft, Michael Carty, & Kevin Oatsvall

Topics: DishTV, DirecTV, and Amazon take on Netflix / The wacky world of models & photographers /  Creating film, photos, and music digitally vs creating organically / The film horror genre is dead.

Guest: Model (and molecular/cellular biologist) Sabrina Davenport

Picks: Mike – “The Hunter” by Richard Stark, Carty – Punching The Clown, Kevin – monoprice.com

Download or subscribe to this show at Thumbin.com

PODCAST: #1 / Aug 1, 2011

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HOSTS: Mike Ashcraft, Kevin Oatsvall, and Michael Carty.

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Thumbin’ Sleazoid Cinema MashUp #2

Uh oh. Here comes another one of them mash-up concoctions of movies, music, and culture that society has completely forgotten about.

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In this episode:

• American Movie
• Krokus:Live
• I Love Ginger Lynn
• Necromaniac
• Napalm Death
• and a whole lot more.

You can find it on the Thumbin’ Sleazoid channel at Blip.tv.

Or you can watch the damn thing right here:

NSFW – For 18+ Audiences

PODCAST: December 2010

Here it is! The first podcast in over two years. In this episode, December 2010, Mike and Dave talk about why the podcast is back and the adjusted, and renewed, direction – with some heart-felt ranting about scenesters, trends, and the grotesquely cliched terms “grindhouse” and “exploitation”.

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Topics:

Music featured on this episode:

Subscribe to the Podcast!
And visit the Thumbin’ Sleazoid Channel on blip.tv. You’ll find old podcasts, mashups of sleazy films, shorts, and random crazy stuff.

(iPhone, iPod, iPad, and Android friendly)

The Return of A Podcast

After a two year hiatus, the Thumbin’ Sleazoid Cinema Podcast has returned.

Back in 2007-2008, I co-hosted my own podcast with my good friend Dave Penuel. Back then, just two short years ago as of this writing, terms such as “exploitation movies”, “trash movies”, “grindhouse”, etc etc, weren’t the trendy buzzwords that they are now. Having both grown up harboring a huge appetite for such films, and similar music, we looked around and realized that no one was covering these film genres in depth and through the eyes of true fans. Thus, a podcast was born.

The audience soon grew to be a very large one. Then one day someone mentioned that the Podcast was featured in the 10th anniversary issue of Rue Morgue magazine – the print edition of Rue Morgue, which can be found in Barnes and Noble, Books-A-Million, etc. It seemed our humble little podcast had arrived. Rue Morgue even went so far as to describe Dave and I as “true trash film connoisseurs. Crazy.

Then life showed up. Let me explain.

I spent over 10 years of my life as a film producer and director. During the ’90s, I produced and directed music videos, concert videos, pay-per-view events and it literally just wore me out. I burned out big time. In 2001, I walked away from it all, vowing that if I ever returned to filmed creativity, it would be on my terms. During my “break” from filmmaking, I rediscovered my passion and my ideals, my tastes and my heroes but most importantly, I rediscovered why I always wanted to make films: not for money or fame but to tell a story and entertain. And when the time was right, I knew I would relaunch those dreams and passions.

But prior to that time, prior to my readiness for a “relaunch”, I chose to write about my tastes and heroes. So I wrote and blogged and thumbin.com was born. Thumbin.com used to be a very different site. Back then, Thumbin.com was simply a blog, centered around my writings and musings of all things trash. I wrote about the trash films I loved, the filmmakers who inspired me, and offered some downloads of old sleazy films and film fanzines you just couldn’t find anywhere else. The podcast that Dave and I did was part of that site.

After about 3 or 4 years of blogging, and about 7 episodes in to the Podcast,  I realized that it was time to “relaunch” my filmmaking and creativity again.

The blog went away and Thumbin’ Sleazoid Cinema was born. I went from “talk and write” mode to “filmmaking” mode. And I had little time, or capacity, for blogging and writing articles. This lack of time and capacity and overall interest was exacerbated by the release of Rodriguez’ and Tarantino’s “Grindhouse”.

It seemed overnight the film blog and podcast world became a huge vacuum of noise and buzzwords such as “grindhouse”, “exploitation”, “b-movies”, you name it. And most of the sources/people spouting those buzzwords didn’t have a clue what those words really referred to. Ugh.

About two weeks ago, Dave called me to see if I’d be interested in relaunching the Podcast. It had never crossed my mind. So I went to the blip.tv channel where I had”archived” various podcasts and such and re-watched them all. I became excited while watching them. Soon I was ready to bring the Podcast back. Dave was ready. I was ready. Hell, let’s bring it back!

And that’s where we are right now. The first episode after the two year hiatus is the “Dec 2010″ episode. We rant (a rarity) as to all these damn buzzwords, why the podcast went away and future ideas and such. We’re even talking about adding a second “podcast” that’s essentially a video mashup of films and crazy shit you’ve never dreamed about. It would be showcasing true, forgotten entertainment. So I guess that’s two podcasts.

We have no interest in creating a recurring schedule of “bi-monthly” or “bi-weekly” or “thrice on the Lord’s Sabbath”. We’re going to create them when life allows us to. There is soooo much noise online these days that I seriously doubt we’ll be expected to hold true to a consistent publishing schedule. All I can say is that of this writing, we’re looking at once a month publishing of the “talking heads” Podcast and the video mashup. Who knows. There may be a month where nothing is posted, a month where just one podcast is posted, and months where they are both posted.

Who. The. Hell. Knows.

I didn’t realize how much I missed the podcast until I revisited it at thumbin.blip.tv. Those podcasts were alot of fun to make. Neither Dave or I really care to be known as podcasters. We just enjoy talking about the films, music, and culture that fell through the cracks of society, as well as mashing up clips and putting them online.

It’s pure and simple fun. And as long as it remains fun, it will be worth doing.

Mike

ps – you can find the Thumbin’ Sleazoid Podcast by visiting “Podcast” on the navigation menu above.