VALE BOWIE

When I think of Bowie, I think of my childhood growing up in outer suburban Melbourne.  It was a wasteland for potential and violence in equal measure. Skinheads (or sharpies depending on your era) ruled. A unique Australian cultural and fashion trend that appealed to the baby boomers sense of tribal wellbeing. There was safety in numbers when you didn’t know what your future would be. There was war, there was pollution and overpopulation being whispered into every teenager’s ear as the media was beginning to realise the potential of the spending power and the use of manipulation of this new generation who were clearly a world apart from their elders.

Music was loud basic and had stagnated. Australia at the time was Boogie, Thorpy “suck more piss” and radio bans.

Then there was Bowie.

Beautiful Bowie, the one the girls all loved and wanted to make love to and all the boys wanted to be him because of…well… the former.

The one thing I realised many years later, these fans who are all now nearing their sixties were being manipulated by the master. Back in the feral mid 1970s anyone who dressed like Bowie Ziggy/Aladdin Sane era with tight body suits, make up and effeminate poses was an obvious “poofta” Gay was a word seldom used those days, queer maybe because it sounded harsher and there was always the ubiquitous “faggot”. But Bowie –bless him- could do anything. The girls loved him, the boys wanted to be him so excuses had to be made. Choices and opinions had to be formed. If Bowie is a poof then poofta’s must be OK.

Right?

Here was a pop star that changed music, popular culture and opinion because he could read the kids. The fact that those kids were half a world away in a country he had yet to visit but would go on to record , temporarily live in and tour seven times endeared him to us.

David Bowie helped change popular conceptions and take on sacred cows, he made the kids think.

Change was good.

Ironically fans don’t always want change and want their heroes to create the same music that they associate a certain period of their lives with. Thus Bowie’s wide fan base stretching over so many years and identities, he had so many disappointed fans that hated him but forgave him, hoping he’d turn around and come back to them musically one day.

Bowie’s appeal goes on and on; he was around when the Beatles were still together and still made music literally till his last dying breath. His longevity made him more relevant than the touring joke that are (and his great friends) the Rolling Stones. He changed so that he didn’t become a parody of himself. Making new music and trying to connect.

Bowie will always be cool, beautiful and relevant and most importantly teaching us something about ourselves. No matter how old we are or think we are.

One of my favourite David Bowie tracks.

MERRY CHRISTMAS 2015

Another year another Christmas.
The two links are some memories of Redbubble - the art site- when it was more interactive and before it was destroyed by Facebook and fucking morons who shouldn't be allowed near computers or sharp objects.

Once upon a time I was a member of a flourishing group called FLASH FICTION. it was full of happy people sharing their stories that were never allowed more than 150 words.
 Occasionally the group set a challenge and more often than not attracted some great works and a lot of fun interaction.
I picked two of my all time favourites.
You'll need to scroll and click a bit but you'll find some great stories and comments.

THE BARBARA CARTLAND CHALLENGE

THE AUDIO CHALLENGE

As a foot note, this year the Museum of Words, a Spanish literary society held it's annual Flash Fiction (Micro Story) contest. After nearly nine months the winners were announced and most people who write Flash Fiction were quite disappointed. Mainly because they believe the discipline of the art is that a piece of Flash must be a self contained story with a beginning a middle and an end. All the winners of this years main prizes were vignettes at best. The works included in these links are the real deal.
Merry Christmas.

In search of The Falls

In search of the elusive Basin/Ferndale/Griffiths waterfall.

The Falls taken circa. 1913 Fergus Chandeler.

While doing research into James and Emily Griffiths’ now long gone Ferndale property back in July 2015 , I read of the dammed creek above the falls on the estate that was used to irrigate the gardens and stables. It was a reticulation system that was taken low in the dam’s stone and concrete retaining wall and fed through a six inch steel pipe over considerable distance to just above the Ferndale house where it was broken into smaller piping and used throughout the property.
Now all that reference to the marvellous domestic water engineering may be interesting but my attention focused on the word falls. A place often referred to but I couldn’t find a great deal of current evidence of. There of course is the classic photo taken by Fergus Chandler over a hundred years ago of two men posing on the falls below the dam. I had read that back in the day James Griffith had many tracks leading to the falls had installed seating and even had a kettle to use for tea and coffee making for walkers. In the photo there can be seen a walkway above the falls for ease of crossing. Obviously it was a popular spot.


According to Rick Coxhill’s History of the Basin: “The falls were also accessible from the 1 in 20 road (Mountain Highway). In later years, they were a regular haunt for young lovers. In later years, most tracks have disappeared except for the one which follows the creek from The Ravine up to the Falls and beyond”

I made it my mission when I got the opportunity I needed to see these “falls” and that it was next place I wanted to visit. Once again referencing a map found on Mister Coxhill’s web page (www,coxhill.com) I had a fair idea how to get there, so come Melbourne Cup public holiday I grabbed the wife and said “we’re going trekking” and go see this local but elusive land mark for myself.

Following the creek up from Golden Grove where the council had just finished stabilizing works we come upon a reserve at the end of the road, this parkland quickly disintegrated into bush. Though there is no sign promoting the trail to the falls which have been collectively known as Griffith falls, Ferndale Falls and the Basin Falls over the years I was still quite confident that we was heading in the right direction.

After less than one hundred metres we found ourselves following the narrow trail into thick bush that hugged the creek. It was here that we literally bumped into two young lads no more than twelve or thirteen running the other way. I asked if we were on the right track to the falls and they replied they were just returning from there. Being local boys it was one of their favourite places and had been there countless times. I asked how far did we have to go, but in old man steps not young man’s running pace? They laughed and guessed about ten minutes but we were to be careful the yesterday’s rain had made sections slippery. The two of them disappeared as quickly as we came across them, they were happy polite boys who were skinny, wore shorts and had muddy runners, off to another adventure, as you would when you have this as a back yard.

Me November 2015

As we moved on the track had remained quite dry and the outside world sounds faded. Soon it was only creek, foliage and bird noise. After another five or so minutes we came to a section where the track crossed the creek via some fallen logs. It was here that the bush got thicker and the ferns more prominent. It was also here I noticed it looked like most people turned back because the track further up seemed less travelled. The forest from this point on becomes other worldly time worn and beautiful. Fallen trees covered in moss and fungai, ferns reaching up to the hidden sun and water of the creek passing under rotting logs and over rounded boulders. The occasional massive dead gum trunk that may or may not survived previous and ancient fires. I have a love for movies that create unreal or fantasy environments, Lord of the Rings, Narnia, Avatar, the Wizard of Oz, King Kong to name a few and sometimes I’ll just fast forward to these scenes and forget the story lines. Walking this part of the track inspired these kind of feelings. And here we were not more than a few hundred metres from people’s lounge rooms.

When we came upon the falls it was sudden, we turned a corner in the track and saw the greyish rocks through the ferns, there was no roaring water fall this day.

Using the old photos I had for reference it was nice to see that the falls hadn’t changed that much, of course the bridge was gone and on this day maybe the water wasn’t running as fast even after the rain but I was satisfied it was a trip that worth the taking.

The falls are not “lost” or forgotten- as I had once read in a local reference, the two lads we met on the way were proof of that and there was also a small amount of graffiti on the rocks and the obligatory beer can, albeit the only piece of rubbish I saw. They still however retained their simple beauty as displayed in the photo. I tried to get into one of the classic poses like in the old Chandler photograph but slippery rocks and uncertain legs that long ago lost their elasticity put stop to that. I was however able to cross at the peak and got a photo taken up there. I was lucky enough when putting this article together to come across a pre 20th Century image by A.J Campbell from the

lovely fungai..

Victorian Museum collection which show the falls prior to cross over being built and possibly the dam. So now I had pictures from three different centuries. The walk back was just as enjoyable and a little less daunting now that we had reached our destination but just as we reached the reserve to walk out I noticed a frame and a length of galvanised water pipe leading up the hill on the far side of the creek. The frame I assume was a pump stand and since the pipe disappeared back into the forest I could only guess it was part of the old Ferndale property water system. So now I had more things to look into.

1890 photo by A J Campbell source Vic Museum.

The falls by whatever name you wish to call them is a lovely walk in a place not too far away that has a real appeal because of its history. Time constraints meant we couldn’t search up further, though I didn’t see much more a track. I would’ve liked to see evidence of the old dam wall and pipework if it still existed.

That will have to wait for another time because I will be back. 



originally published in the BBCN issue 241 Feb 2016

My small part in Pop Culture

My small part in Pop Culture 

In October 2015 the last of the big three pop culture conventions rolled into town, the Australian Movie and Comic (AMC) Expo was being held over the weekend of the 17th-18th and I popped into the Melbourne Show Grounds to lend support to the publisher of a comic that was featuring two of my stories: Darren Koziol of Dark Oz publishing.

Darren Koziol’s mother Gillian says that anyone else with his initials would probably never utilize them or be scarred for life. She made this joke as we were going over the logos of Dark Oz’s DECAY comic the bi-annual horror anthology that has just reached its milestone 20th edition. Gillian was referring how Darren’s name and love of the horror genre has been used in a rather imaginative way in his publications branding. Decay of course comes from his initials why Dark Oz is made up from the first three letters of his name.

Darren began DECAY as a labour of love back in March 2010 writing stories, compiling other talent and editing in his own time. That he now has released twenty issues and become the longest running Australian horror anthology with over 150 creators contributing is a grand accomplishment considering he is still self-publishing. Along the way he has made friendships that has resulted in some of Australia’s top artists contributing as well as others as far flung as the UK, USA and Argentina.

Darren’s belief in his comic has taken him all over Australia attending the various pop culture conventions promoting and bringing his product to the market place. Based in South Australia Darren has since an early age been fascinated by horror, fantasy and science fiction, with a genuine affection for the earlier styles as opposed to the more modern high tech. effect laden movies of the last decades. This has been carried through with DECAY’s sister publication RETRO SCI-FI which comes out once a year, usually in tandem with one of the twice yearly DECAY comics.

While talking to Darren it is evident he is very proud of his achievements, more so with issue twenty because this comic he has designed and the lay out himself as well as contributed lettering (a new skill he taught himself) because of necessity due to the unavailability of others who he had relied on in the past. Another milestone was the republishing of the CUTHULU (stories based on the popular H.P Lovecraft monster) issue as an US comic standard size. The CUTHULU issue was one of the more popular comics with an original commanding a price tag of $150. Needless to say they were a popular item and good seller at the convention.

Darren’s enthusiasm is still high with each issue getting that little bit more notice and sleeker in quality, one of Darren’s stories was picked up by International SciFi/Fantasy magazine Heavy Metal last year, so the rewards can be measured.

 In these days of Kickstarter, short lived anthologies that run out of steam by the second issue and Aussie publishers that only release a four arc comic series one issue a year at a time it is great to have Darren and DECAY helping putting new creators and exciting stories out at a regular schedule and giving Aussie comics the shot in the arm it constantly needs.

For more information on the comic: www.darkoz.com.au

originally published in the BBCN issue 239 Nov 2015

Three quick stories for All Hallows Eve.

Three quick stories for All Hallows Eve.


Three Flash fiction stories that have been kicking around for years.
All released to enjoy Halloween.

 ALWAYS CHOOSE TREAT 

 Jason walked up the footpath with his usual swagger, his mates lagging a few steps behind.
He leaped up the stairs in one bound.
 "I'll show you how it's done" he boasted as he smacked loudly on door.
 "Go away" came a muffled voice behind the door.
 Jason kept banging until he heard footsteps pounding towards the door.
 It swung open revealing a skinny, tired looking old man
 "What?"
 "Trick or Treat?" asked Jason
The man stood- staring at Jason for a good twenty seconds.
Then said: "Trick"
"Tight arse" Jason mumbled and in one fast motion thrust out his hand which palmed an egg and slammed it into the man's forehead.
 "There" shouted Jason and turned to run.

 The man shot Jason in the back five times before he made it down the stairs.


 THE HALLOWEEN HOUSE 

 The four teenagers moved up the overgrown pathway leading up to the dilapidated house, flashes of light burst intermittently through the broken windows.
 Anticipation pumped through their veins.
“You know how the spirits effected Thelma last year” warned Fred
 “Yeah, made her do the Exorcist/Linda Blair pea soup thing – ughh disgusting ” answered Daphne. “Don’t worry we sure leaned our lesson” said Shaggy “Thelma’s designated driver this year and Scoobies only drinking beer”

 ALL SOULS DAY 

 Terry held his head in his hands as he sat on the steps leading up to the party.
Tears fell from his face onto his shoe less feet and instantly disappeared.
 It had been two years now and nobody seemed to remember him anymore.
 “I show them, they’ll miss me when I’m gone” he’d vainly cried.
The accident had proved that, his funeral was massive and all the girls cried.
 Some even kept photos, for a while.

 But now it was different story.
 Beside his still grieving parents he never heard his name mentioned amongst his old crowd.
 He was stuck, he hadn’t been offered Heaven , he hadn’t been offered Hell.
It was just him and his heavy head.
Terry stood up and put his head under his arm and walked back through the yard to Cemetery
He was wrong - popularity was fleeting.
 Death was eternal and lonely.


 All (c) 2015 Danny Nolan

DECAY ISSUE 20

Two of my scripts/stories have appeared in the latest edition of Dark Oz's DECAY . Australia's longest running horror anthology. I was under the belief that only one was to appear with another to be published next year as well as a  story being run in DECAY's sister publication RETRO SCI-FI. So we'll see how that pans out.

Cover art for DECAY 20

Jason Paulos and Dave Dye Australian comic book legends also make an appearance in this colourful gore-fest not for the squeamish. Of course I can't be objective since I'm in it so this isn't a review just a call to go out and buy the thing and promote Aussie comics.

The Night Before Christmas is about two young aliens on "schoolies" who cause all kinds of mischief and ultimately stack their Dad's car ruining Christmas for everyone. Literally
Artwork is supplied by the talented Argentinian Carlos Angeli. With Letters done by Dark Oz editor Darren Koziol.

The second is a story I wrote for the OZ ZOMBIE universe and tells the story of a lone survivor looking for lodgings in the abandoned upper crust residences of apocalyptic Melbourne.
This one was drawn by someone I know nothing of or have any contact for, a local by the name of Mick Anderson.














DARK OZ DECAY and RETRO SCI-FI as well as selected back Issues are available here.
This is a composite of the content titles in this issue.

YE OLD BLUES PROMOTIONAL POSTERS

These Paramount Records print ads span from 1927-1932 and were originally printed in the Chicago Defender. Paramount Records began around 1910  in a Wisconsin furniture company that began pressing records in hopes that’d help them sell record players The  company curated and released a  legendary catalogue of classic early jazz and Delta blues 78s by the likes of Charley Patton, Ma Rainey, and Blind Lemon Jefferson.
I just think they look spectacular.

originally ran in the Dangerous Minds blog
Go to this site for links and a more comprehensive history of these classic pieces of art