I find television very educating. Every time somebody turns on the set, I go into the other room and read a book. - Groucho Marx

TODAY IN NETWORK AWESOME MAGAZINE


by A Wolfe
April 17, 2014
When producer Albert R. Broccoli bought the rights to John Wyndham’s popular sci-fi novel Day of the Triffids in 1957, he thought this would be the film to launch his career into outer space, but he didn’t count on hiring a screenwriter who always said he wasn’t a screenwriter—sad-sap horror writer Jimmy Sangster—and the project fell into ruins, leaving Broccoli to get by on his little side project, James Bond. It wasn’t until ’62 that the Steve Sekely-directed plant-monster film we know and love went to public. And, strangely enough, those triffids bear a striking resemblance to broccoli…
A Wolfe is a writer and director in Los Angeles. awolfeswolfworld.wordpress.com

by Anthony Galli
April 15, 2014

Perhaps it is too easy to take Morrissey for granted.

Already a pop music icon when he released his first solo album, “Viva Hate”, in 1988, Morrissey has only released nine additional albums in the 25 years since then, and only three since Maladjusted in 1997. He has still managed, however, to retain his iconic status regardless of shifting trends in the entertainment industry, and the vacillating vagaries of the music biz.

Morrissey is so cool that his presence only needs to be suggested through album cover sleeves, concert posters, t-shirt logos, and random television clips in his 1988 video “Everyday is Like Sunday” for his power to be felt.

And, of course, anybody who is instantly recognizable by a single name has got to be doing something right...

Anthony Galli currently lives in Athens, Georgia. He shares a birthday with his black cat, Magic, and they both claim Wings of Desire as their favorite film. Anthony has published two books of poetry, Amnesia for Insomniacs and Invisible Idiot.


by Justin Martinez
April 13, 2014

Shot in Sun Valley, California with $5,000 financed through credit cards, writer-director Donald G. Jackson’s Roller Blade (New World Pictures, 1986) is a 16mm, non-sync sound, hair metal dystopia with maybe-accidental strains of The Holy Mountain(1973, dir. Alejandro Jodorowsky), with a little Road Warrior, a little Alex Cox, a pinch of William Klein.

A few years earlier, Jackson did some pick-up shots with James Cameron for The Terminator, another film that posits a future gone to shit. It was a major theme of the decade. The 1980s had a crime problem. The Cold War still raged with Russia when it was still considered a nuclear threat. Apocalypse narratives satisfied the public’s born-again Christianity and desire for judgement. In Roller Blade, “frontier justice” is meted out when police authority is overwhelmed, getting “tough on crime” the unavoidable -- but secretly enjoyable -- response...

Justin Martinez is a playwright living in Lawrence, Kansas.  His work can be found at www.racialfacial.com.

by Casey Dewey
April 12, 2014
When I was a kid growing up during the later half of the 1980’s, I spent most weekends at my best friend's house. His name was Matt, and he was well known for having one of the cooler houses in the neighborhood. First of all, it was tri-level, and that was great for playing with little green army men on the stairs. Second of all, he had a swimming pool with a diving board and a water slide! And most of all, he had a huge TV, with cable and a VCR. It gets better. I was over just about every Friday night -- the night his parents would go out to eat, see a movie, go out for drinks, come home and immediately go to bed. Before they would go out, they would let us skate over to Garland’s Video Gallery, a local video store maybe a half-mile down the way. Garland was a man of ill repute. Rumors abounded that the junk strewn about behind the store were stolen goods and that he was a local fence. It certainly didn’t help that he looked like a white pimp. With his balding Jewfro, hooked nose, shirts unbuttoned at the top exposing a field of chest hair and gold chains, he came across somewhere between Fagin from Oliver Twist and Marjoe Gortner. None of that phased us though, because while he may or may not have been involved in some illegal trades, he was involved in something far less sinister but maybe still questionable: Letting kids rent R rated movies...
Casey Dewey resides in Tucson, Arizona. He's a film writer for the Tucson Weekly and host of "Deep Red Radio" , a radio show dedicated to film soundtracks on 91.3 KXCI FM. He enjoys tacos, cervezas and garlic in everything. He wakes up every morning to a fresh pot of black coffee and at least two hours of Dragnet on TV.

by Joe DeMartino
April 11, 2014

Hannah Arendt smokes throughout her hour-long interview on Zur Person, and this dates it more than almost any other aspect of the whole thing. Her interviewer smokes as well. Smoking indicates a certain discursive climate, a kind of expansive relaxation one would expect from a mid-20th century intellectual. It’s also weird to see a casual smoker on television when we’ve successfully banished them to the alleyways outside bars, but that’s another matter entirely.

 

She stares at her nails while answering one question and pauses for five seconds before answering another. She speaks in full paragraphs and doesn’t restrict her answers to anything quotable or viral. The camera focuses on her almost entirely -- the only cuts are to different angles. There’s no sense of forced combativeness or point-scoring -- just an attempt at an understanding.

Which is to say, watching it in 2014, it’s super weird... 

Joe DeMartino is a Connecticut-based writer who grew up wanting to be Ted Williams, but you would not BELIEVE how hard it is to hit a baseball, so he gave that up because he writes words OK. He talks about exploding suns, video games, karaoke, and other cool shit at his blog. He can be emailed at jddemartino@gmail.com and tweeted at @thetoycannon. He writes about sports elsewhere. The sports sells better.