WHEN TRUTH IS OFTEN A LIE (8 FACTS ABOUT FRANCES FARMER)

Frances Farmer: 1913 -1970

Frances Farmer never received a lobotomy. Also, (despite Hollywood) she was a quite successful stage actress and TV hostess until she lost her battle with cancer at the age of 56. Odd how these "minor" details were not mentioned in Frances (the so-called biopic about her life).

The two most well known books based on her life (WILL THERE REALLY BE A MORNING and SHADOWLAND) are more fiction than fact.

1. Frances was never raped by dozens of soldiers while she was in ANY mental hospital.

2. She was never a Communist.

3. She might have been an atheist during her youth, but eventually found faith in God.

4. Hollywood DID say she was as talented as Garbo, but started singing a different tune once Frances had her quite minor encounter with the police (a petty traffic violation).

5. She was not a "basket case" when she appeared on THIS IS YOUR LIFE in 1958. In fact, she was more than polite given how obnoxious the host of the program was to her (I would have slugged him).

6. Farmer's best movies: COME AND GET IT, RHYTHM ON THE RANGE, TOAST OF NEW YORK, SON OF FURY, and FLOWING GOLD.

7. Farmer's worst enemy was not Hollywood but her deranged mother.

8. Kurt Cobain helped to raise awareness about Frances Farmer's plight with his song: FRANCES FARMER WILL HAVE HER REVENGE ON SEATTLE.

WHAT I'M LISTENING TO RIGHT NOW: THE MONKEES

My sister was a huge fan of this Pop group. She bought all their records. She watched their popular TV show each week. She even signed up for a contest to win a date with Davy Jones!

I liked The Beatles best, and she and I would often argue about why one group was better than the other. I do have one confession: I thought Peter Tork and Michael Nesmith were sexy as hell. I didn't really know what sexy meant (I was only eight years old), but their deep voices and handsome faces always made me feel all tingly inside.

And this is their greatest song I still want to get up and dance around to big time...

Pretty crazy, huh?

P.S. Takes a few seconds for the video to start - but it does start. Don't let the alarming darkness get to you...

WHY SUICIDE IS A MISTAKE

1967 -1994

I can still remember when I first heard that Kurt Cobain had taken his own life. I went into a deep state of  mourning that lasted for a solid month. Why? He had great talent, a young child, and a wife that wanted to see him more alive than dead (many people argue this point - I don't agree with any of the conspiracy theories about Courtney Love). To each his own.

What I will always miss most about Kurt is the music: He still had plenty of new songs he could have written in the future, but there is no future once you have offed yourself.

I know he was in a lot of pain (his music made that clear). But I wonder what might have happened if he could only have given life another month or two?

The best tribute to Kurt on the internet is by the author of THE BASKETBALL DIARIES - Jim Carroll. He fought his own demons during his youth, but managed to hang in there as best he could. He wrote more songs and books. He wrote some great poetry. He did not become a member of the 27 club. I just wish Kurt could have known how much he was appreciated and loved by many: This is true for all people that leave the world much too soon.

Poem Copyright by Jim Carroll

Essay Copyright 2018 by Dylan Mitchell

JANIS JOPLIN: KOZMIC BLUES (FOR JON)

POETRY: THE MAGIC OF FINDING YOUR OWN VOICE...

I know poetry. I suffered through too many creative writing classes during my youth, and quickly figured out academic poetry is too false and easy: Where are the powerful voices: Keats, Emily Dickinson, Walt Whitman, Sylvia Plath, Anne Sexton, Dylan Thomas, William Carlos Williams,  Charles Bukowski, etc.

You can scan and rhyme until the sun hides its face in shame, and darkness surrounds you forever, but without an authentic voice you might as well throw away your pen (or computer). This little rant is the result of discovering how the academic world continues to reward those poets with too many degrees (and very little talent) - and ignores the powerful voices that are out there both in book form and online:

Walt Curtis, Don Kloss, David Elsey, Jon Varga, Sherry Asbury, Virginia Davis, Douglas Spangle, Guy Kettelhack, James H. Duncan, E. D. Ridgell, Dylan Mitchell (yes, I dare to include myself because I know I ONCE had an authentic voice. However, it was gradually silenced by the academic world which only allows deluded members of quite expensive "workshops" to be called a poet).

Oh, and my best poems are hidden in newspapers, zines, and my private journals which will most likely be chucked down the garbage chute when I finally escape from this crazy money hungry world. Sadly, This is the fate of some of our most gifted poets.

Appreciate the great ones while you can! Don't let the academic world (and its many bitter critics) tell you what to read: Let your heart and mind lead you in the right direction. Trust me, you won't regret it:

Jon Varga, Don Kloss, David Elsey, Walt Curtis, Sherry Asbury, Virginia Davis, Douglas Spangle, James H. Duncan, Guy Kettelhack,  E. D. Ridgell, Dylan Mitchell (saved myself for last). If you like real poetry, these are the poets to seek out and discover what the meaning of life (and death's) really all about. Just do a quick Google search. It's as simple (and profound) as that.

Oh, and stay away from the pretentious University presses: That's where the worst poetry is found. And they charge an arm and a leg big time - just adding more insult to injury. Don't let them play you for a fool.

Poem Copyright 1934 by William Carlos Williams

Rant Copyright 2018 by Dylan Mitchell

THE STORY OF MY FATHER: CAT'S IN THE CRADLE - HARRY CHAPIN

I first heard this song on the radio in 1975. It totally reminded me of how my father (if you can call him that) treated me all of my life: I only actually got to meet him around ten times. He never paid child support. And my last "meeting" with him was during my late teens in which he took me to a bunch of bars and pool halls (where he liked to hustle people for money), and had no problem at all telling me my new shoes and long hair made me look like a faggot. Nice.

I decided right then and there that I no longer wanted to try and get to know this monstrosity of a man that had no business bringing children into this world ( because he was so good looking, he forever used women as a meal ticket). He couldn't care less about any of the many children he brought into this world.

Much later, I was astonished to receive a phone call from the latest woman he was involved with asking me to come and live with them to help take care of my dying father. I was polite to the woman, but when my "father" picked up the phone, I told him if he really wanted to know my feelings on the subject - then listen to this great Harry Chapin song. He didn't even know who Harry Chapin was. That speaks volumes alone. (My so-called father was a musician).

P.S. BTW, I am NOT saying Harry Chapin was related to me in any way. I am merely saying that his great song reminded me of my abusive relationship with my own father big time. Harry Chapin was a true artist. My father was a total bastard.

Music Copyright 1974 by Harry Chapin