TWISTED IMAGE #7

“We’re Back!!”

By this time I had concluded that publishing TWISTED IMAGE was an excellent formula for a.) expending a tremendous amount of energy working like a dog, and b.) a great way to lose a tremendous amount of money. So I was starting to lose whatever enthusiasm I had had for publishing the damn thing. By this time the paper had veered so far off-course from my original vision, that I was no longer even sure what the newspaper was supposed to be about. And nobody else was sure, either, that’s for damn sure. As far as I could tell, the concept for TWISTED IMAGE by this point had basically devolved into: Anything That I Ace Backwords Happened To Be Interested In. And while I, as a demographic audience of one, was certainly satisfied with the content. There no longer seemed to be any point to catering to myself as an audience of one.

So I gave up. Concluded: Fuck this shit! I concede. I’m a fucking loser. The end. . . Whatever starry-eyed optimism I had had when I first launched the paper way back in July of 1982, had thoroughly been crushed out like a bug by the cruel realities of the publishing business by February of 1984.

So I spent the next two years trying my hand at other artistic ventures. Tried my hand at writing a novel (Journey Through The Tenderloin). Tried my hand at developing a syndicated comic strip (Cool Man). Tried this and that. But nothing really grabbed me. So at one point I thought: “Hmm. . . Remember that newspaper I used to publish??. . .” It had certainly had it’s moments. And so, after a two-year hiatus, against my better judgement, I thought: “What the hell, why not give it another try.” It was sort of like running into an ex-girlfriend you had broken up with two years ago, and you’ve forgotten about all the hell the relationship put you through. All you remember is the great sex.

So I ran the idea by Mary Mayhem, and she was game. So at the least it was an excuse to hang out with Mary again. And when I think about it, that’s what TWISTED IMAGE had really been all about from the beginning. An excuse to hang out with Mary.

A friend of mine had a long interview with the underground filmmaker John Waters. Duncan had an interview with the cartoonist Norman Dog. And I had a long correspondence with R. Crumb. So I figured that was enough to slap an issue together. So I xeroxed off 500 copies. And I was back in business (so-called). For the front cover I did a parody of the punk fanzine SICK TEEN, as a nod back to issue #4, the “Punk Fanzine Issue.” As a way to try to get back to where I had been before everything had gotten hopelessly weird. Of course almost nobody got the reference (first rule of parody: people should know what the hell you’re parodying).

So I was back in the saddle. And ready to see if there was still anywhere interesting that I could go with this TWISTED IMAGE thing. . .

The TWISTED IMAGE on-line archives: https://eastbaypunkda.com/s/east-bay-punk-digital-archive/item

My latest blogs

My latest blogs:
Riveting accounts of Halloweens past!!
Pulse-pounding stories about feral cats having miscarriages all over my blankets!!
PLUS!! Sordid accounts of my dysfunctional alcoholism!!

All available in this handy Internet format. And still — in these days of rampant inflation — available to the general public at the low, low price of absolutely free.

https://acebackwords5.wordpress.com/

My new website, cleverly titled ACE BACKWORDS

https://acebackwords5.wordpress.com/

Sirens of Titan

When I was a younger man I had this thing where I would get overwhelmed by feminine beauty. It was like being addicted to a drug. Only worse. It was like I would become helplessly under the spell of these beautiful woman. Like they were alluring sirens that I couldn’t resist.

This is a quick sketch I dashed off of this woman I used to know, sitting at my friends kitchen table in 1978. She was 19 and I was 22 at the time. Of course she was much more beautiful than I managed to capture in this half-assed pencil sketch… But when I stumbled across this drawing amidst all the crap in my storage locker. I remembered the whole drama. It all came back to me. As well as the agony that can come with being a young man.

Telegraph Avenue Street Calendar 1995

For the helluvit’ a moment in time and space the Telegraph Avenue Street Calendar 1995: “Women of the Avenue” issue.

TELEGRAPH AVENUE STREET CALENDAR 1995: “Women of the Avenue”

Blondie the dreamy feral cat

I dreamed of Blondie the feral cat last night. She’s the first feral cat I ever hooked up with way back in 2007 when she was a wee feral kitten living in the woods.

In the dream she had another litter of adorable little feral kittens. And I fed her chunks of steak for her breakfast.

It was a great dream. That’s one of the great things about dreams. That you sometimes get the chance to re-visit people from your past on the astral plane who are long gone.

These kids nowadays!

I know I’m dating myself here. But you kids nowadays with your easy-to-open flip-tabs on your beverage cans!! Bunch of spoiled brats, the whole lot of you!! Back when I was a kid, if we wanted to enjoy a savory beverage we had to be packing a can-opener. And we had to punch not one but TWO holes before we could quench our thirst! One hole to drink out of and another hole for an air hole.. . .
It’s no wonder this generation today is so soft.

Moo Cat is now older than me!

One of the fascinating things about relating to cats is watching them go through the life cycles. They go through the same life cycles as us, except at an accelerated rate. What we experience in 90 years, they experience in 20 years. And over the years I’ve watched Moo Cat go from a newborn baby, to a child, to an adolescent, to a young adult, to middle age. And then finally to lap me, and be older than me, as a senior citizen now in her 70s. And soon she’ll reach the elderly stage. And then, of course, the final stage and on to the Great Beyond.

But as far as I can tell, Moo Cat shows no signs of aging. She’s still full of energy. Full of piss and vinegar. She comes rushing up to greet me when I show up at her feeding spot this morning. Jumping and rubbing back and forth against my legs as I walk. Then she ATTACKS her food the second I put it into the dish. Nobody eats with more gusto than Moo Cat. And if she particularly likes a meal — today I had a bunch of fried chicken among other treats — she purrs and purrs after eating. In between big belches. Ha ha. Moo Cat.

Pink Cloud

On this day eight years ago — August 20, 2015 — long-time Berkeley street person, Pink Cloud, catching some z’s on the stonewall on Bancroft Avenue. . . With some people, the streets are their natural milieu. And Pink Cloud was one of them. It’s hard to imagine him existing anywhere else. Pink Cloud sort of embodied that old street adage: “The world is your living room.”

Don’t make any sudden movements. . .