I was at a get together a couple of weeks back explaining who Boyd Rice was to some pleasant party-goers. They’d seen my copy of Standing In Two Circles perched on the coffee table and wanted to know who this guy was. If you’re going to yammer on at parties, Boyd Rice and the Prisoner TV show might be two of the best topics to use as yammer fuel.

I then began to explain to Will and Kellen (said party-goers):

“Boyd Rice started off releasing noise records as NON and doing fun and weird stuff like attaching an electric fan to the pick ups of an electric guitar and releasing records with locked grooves and multiple holes. He went on to become a priest in the Church of Satan and did a lot of talk show appearances about that. He later joined the Partridge Family Temple which was also pretty boss. He had an amazing profile in Jim Goad‘s Answer Me in which he stated his unpopular, but almost indisputable, beliefs about the lies that humans tell themselves in order to feel good about themselves. He created and later destroyed a tiki bar named Tiki Boyds. He produced an amazing series of records under the Boyd Rice Presents title, including an amazing obscure girl group collection called Music For Pussycats, The Best of Little Fyodor, Music by Ralph Gean, and Death’s Gladsome Wedding which had some of the most grim war dirges imaginable. He’s collaborated with Douglas P on one of my favorite record by Death in June, Alarm Agents. He’s released various records either alone or with friends as Boyd Rice. He is fascinated with the search for the Holy Grail and the mummified body of Christ, of whom he claims to be a descendant of. There’s more, but that’s enough for now but there’s more to know if you want it.”

And then I went to the bathroom.

Another man came over, noticed Boyd’s book and asked,”You like this witch worshiping, white supremacist piece of shit?” I thought that was a pretty flat estimation of the guy and that he’s more in league with Andy Warhol and John Waters than Ian Stuart or serial killers. My partner in the conversation then chuckled and let me know he’d been fooling around with me before letting me in on some good news: Boyd was signing copies of his new book the very next evening at Vacation Vinyl, a mile from the party we were currently at. I soon fell asleep with a pillow curled around my head like a taco shell to shut out the music, yelling and sounds of things breaking as people continued partying long after the point of when I wished they’d all fuck off and die or at least go home.

I dreamt that I was staying in a room on a shelf under a bridge that supported train tracks. There was a child’s ghost who would stand on the tracks and try to lure people under oncoming trains. I wished to God that he would crush the ghost child for tricking innocent people and it was done. Then God granted the child’s powers to me, knowing that I wouldn’t abuse them. I woke up and recounted this dream to my host who dropped me off at the record store like a mom taking her kid to school. The crowd that showed up to the event was small in numbers but made up for it by being jagoff-free.

Los Angeles at night always looks cinematic and nightmarish to me. It’s like walking through Pee Wee’s Big Adventure. I think it’s fun for a week but it wears on me if I stay longer. I took photos of a woman who was dressed a little like Minnie Mouse and after we made our introductions I found out she was Giddle Partridge. I told her that I hadn’t recognized her because I was used to seeing her in high contrast photos. She responded, “I am high contrast.”

Coop showed up with some of the attractive women who he takes nude photos of. We’re Flickr friends but had never met in real life. Coop’s famous for doing the paintings of those naked red devil women who are always getting up to sapphic antics and looking shiny. He also drew that devil smoking the cigar that people like. Gary Panter had told me that Coop was a satanist so I asked him about it. He is and had been close with Anton Szander Lavey who he affectionately referred to as “the Doctor.” He told me about how he misses him all the time. It was really sweet moment. I DJ Lavey’s organ music more often than some people would like me to and it’s interesting to hear about him in a non-sensationalized light.

A man named Jesus who looked remarkably like Ssion was there. This man has an amazing look and was a pleasant reprieve from the pork pie hatted, soul patched LAers I’d been seeing around at night up to that point. It turned out he’d directed a video for the Death Set and knew me from the Мишка Bloglin. What a small world.

There was also this man with an earnest smile and patches all over his jacket. Boyd signed his coat.

There was also a striking looking bald man named Z’ev (Ze’v?) in attendance. He’s done at least one record with Boyd and possibly more.

When it was my turn to talk to Boyd and have my things signed I told him how much I loved Alarm Agents and he wrote some of the lyrics to “Get Used to Saying No” on a poster for me. “You’re not a dollar bill to be loved by all…Get used to saying no.” We also discussed his idea for a comic book. And I interviewed him about his book after promising I wouldn’t be bothering him with questions about the Church of Satan. We discussed his new book, now available from Heartworm Press. It’s limited to 1313 copies so buy it now or wait for the less coveted second printing.

As Boyd would probably sign off, “Wild Wishes.”

- Toilet Cobra