Friday the 13th, SPECIAL GUEST

A vintage “Halloween” sort of interview from 1989 on the old Arsenio Hall show. The stoic actor beneath the hockey mask manages “to keep a straight face” as an eerie guest “silent as the tomb”. Must be beetlejuice’s neighbor in the trailer park, down the dirt-gravel road by the old fence.

The new “Jay & Silent Bob”?  Beetlejuice talks for the two of them, both. . . . . as “it’s show time”.

And fate has it, that Beetlejuice 2 has recruited a new writer. Good night & good luck, don’t forget to tap “a bit of backwoods, underground talent” if you’re ever stuck.

Read about it here:


Don’t forget. . . . . a funny treatment on the subject.



Friday the 13th, SPECIAL GUEST

From Bone-Yard to Broadway, ARISE!!!


In the style of “The Addams’ Family”, “The Rocky Horror Picture Show” and other ookey, spooky properties Beetlejuice doffs the hat and twirls the cane in the “Bigtime, showtime”. Call it tin-pan alley or merely just a playbill for you, he will pull entertainment out of his hat “like a real song & dance man” of twisted, devilish joy for the whole family.



From Bone-Yard to Broadway, ARISE!!!

Vault to the Netherworld. . . . .

Out of the mists of elementary school memory is the kiddie-exploitation Nintendo cartoon property, “Captain N, The Game-Master”.

(– it was all we had)

Most memorable for the live video entrance of the typical Nintendo teen zapped through his t.v. and into the loosely-based zone of video game plot-lines.

Otherwise, this would be a fairly-disposable cartoon that relies on stock characters, both “good and evil” to tell storylines of the fantastic, insipid, and unlikely.

Out of the dumpster of old print-media, like flapping pages and putrid coffee stains—we reach deep to bring you this.

True for the hopelessly “out-of-date” shut-in, maybe. . . . . thinking about “the way it used to be”.

Just imagine a nest of analog video cables, maybe a camcorder or wired-in surround-sound speakers and that was the crude home entertainment set-up for those “with a knack for that sort of stuff”.

Of interest, is his “zapper” or Nintendo gun you’d use to play, say “Duck Hunt”. Just don’t hold up a convenience store “even if the gun isn’t loaded”.

If you were handy and could modify the gun, you could be a bit of “a ghostbuster” as our character has this technology “to thicken the plot”.

How? Why?

Even the galactic board-room monsters in GWAR meat-titan suits meta-debate the narrative as they conceive of and slap this thing together with on-going commentary for one flexibly-surreal Beetlejuice sequel.

You’ll have to see what we got up our sleeve—never bound completely “to logic”. Kind of like the surreal 6th dimension with the long, checkered hallway leading to THE NETHERWORLD, or even “13 steps to Nowhere”.


And guttural. And clever!

Stay tuned. . . . .


Vault to the Netherworld. . . . .

VHS Hobo, 7th Grade

Clowns get “a bad rap”. Just look at the movie, a new adaption of Stephen King’s “It” and you’ll find them downright terrifying.

And those trade papers? The numbers are astounding—“IT” was a smashing success!

Read it for yourself. . . . .

Gotta hand it to Beetle-bruthas and league of screenwriting STAND-OUT’S, Seth Grahame-Smith and David Katzenberg. . . . . friendly rivals in the great game to make “Beetlejuice 2” actually happen.

Toast them with a goblet of wine (– or blood from a skull) as we pass through the spooky corridors of “development hell” as genre-mates. Seriously—they did a “killer” job and are definitely “not clowning around” at the art of making blockbuster movies.

My formative cradle of adolescence would always be the “2 movies/for a dollar” supermarket video-store and tattered, used Stephen King paperbacks as outside was the rushing highway and lots of blue-sky thinking. Maybe staying home sick from school and staring intently into the television, “like a window into another world” with the illusion “that things were okay, somewhere else”.

Whatever the shy, creeping awkwardness of chronic morbidity— you’d always have friends with podunk VHS productions packaged in a goofy box, unaware of “how it got from carnival side-show act” to your VCR. Life was so incremental, and played by the granular percentages by law of economics and the nature of packaging as you reserved a seat in unproductive leisure-time before thrown back out in the ole’ tiger-cage of middle-school.

When would “real life” start?

Otherwise, I lived out my limits watching the old 1990 “It” mini-series as a kind of index of risk, excitement, danger, and death to my youthful, uncertain shiver.

Experience begets confidence. And confidence begets experience.

It was a long period of “arrested development”. Let this next clip “speak for itself”.

Pleasant dreams, Jr. May “zany” be carved on yor Grave.



VHS Hobo, 7th Grade


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Just press play AND WATCH. . . . . .

In Hitlelrian Germany, it would have been called “degenerate art”.

Variety is the food of life and dare you drink from the bandleader’s goblet, one funky party of artists and weridos and punk-jazz fusion-ists against a checkered background, sipping champagne.

Maybe an offshoot of Pee Wee Herman WEIRDNESS circa 1980 and midnight movie attraction for late-night moths.

Imagine a kinky art school musical made to look like a Betty Boop cartoon and you have Danny Elfman as bandleader before, more or less, he became the permanent creative collaborative partner with Tim Burton.

Why, they were MADE for each other! You’ll see why the union was inevitable and kids, young and old alike, are delighted. Even adults must have fun.





Seasons of the Eclipse, Nether-world Event

Legend has it that the solar eclipse was a dragon flying through the sky, devouring the sun. . . . . as galactic forces commune in harmonic rhythm and flare burning trails of star-dust, confluence, and coincidence.

“Solace of quantum” accents aside, maybe Beetlejuice was just “gone, fishin’”.

Hanging out on the Illinois side of the river by the Cahokia Mounds, tawny hillsides constructed by Indians 1000 years ago. Kind of “a burial ground”, as you could say.

This bodes well for mischief, whether it’s Beetlejuice flying up through the sky spread-eagled with his whirling face imprinted on the sun in a ghastly, moss-toothed rictus. . . . . his hair like a tangled corona of graveyard dirt.

Earthen decay and solar indifference across the star-lit sky, a solar calendar of strange & unusual happenings like shimmering blood-jelly and shooting jets of sperm.

(– It also smells REAL BAD)

Incidentally, in terms of cosmic confluence—HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO TIM BURTON.

And a friendly pat on the shoulders of my creative rivals and compatriots Seth Grahame-Smith and David Katzenberg. . . . . the new Stephen King “It” adaption looks like a worthy successor and follow-up to the 1990 made-for-tv interpretation.

To box-office success and healthy backend residual compensation FOR EVERYBODY! Hollywood is a great place IF YOU PUT IN THE WORK. “Gee-whiz” factor aside, this entertainment business IS HEAVY SHIT.

Beetlejuice awaits instruction as he checks his watch and cocks his ear. IT’S SHOW-TIME!!!!!

Seasons of the Eclipse, Nether-world Event

The Inferno Room Meets “Sausage Castle”, USA


By the rules of some strange, inverted geography. . . . . .

And stranger still, echoing through the twisting halls of the dead. . . . . .

Like “13 steps” to nowhere. . . . . . you’ll end up SOMEWHERE.

Beetlejuice infests the outback and pops-up in the little model of the town. The rolling, green hills against the pin-pricked darkness of stars, whether standing outside in the open air or tiny and shrunk beneath the rafters of the Maitlin’s attic-space.

You’ll find him “haunting the premises” and setting-up his equivalent of an E-Z finance, bronco-bustin’ used car-lot and open ghost audition like a lasso-waving cowboy.

The midnight-madness hours of zany after-life circumstance. . . . . you’ll be sayin’ “hot-diggity-dawg ALL THE WAY HOME” but begin to regret the contract you hold in your hands after making all but two steps off the lot of the proverbial “fast-sell”.

Faster than your head can spin!

And on to another “spin-off” property just down the road, swampy Florida’s own “Sausage Castle”.

If you ever thought “ole’ Beetlejuice waltzin’ off to THE WHOREHOUSE” was pretty funny, you’ll be equally as stunned by this depraved “party house” and 24-hour backyard BBQ.

Equally off-the-grid and a living natural disaster where freaks, misfits, and weirdos party “at a real clown-house” of depravity and “Dollar-Store” accoutrements like kiddie-pools, one’s feet soaking in dirty water as you down serial pina coladas and a turd floats by.

Read about it here. . . . . .

Beetlejuice would crash the premises and stay up all hours. Find him sitting in a lawn-chair, grilling meat at 7 A.M. and chuckling to himself as he turns over the pork with a pair of tongs and a fork.

Pleasure Island, or “just hell on earth”? You’ll be that greasy, crackling morsel frying out on the bbq-pit of the damned, sandworms in chef-hats serving out your ass as the best metaphor for “falling out of the rat race” AND INTO THE FIRE.

If you’re “looking for action” it should sooner be taking up the holy robes of high religiosity, even as Beetlejuice throws-up in the bouncing clown-house and staggers over to the outside porta-potty.

Just his luck that a gang of miscreants tips it over and he washes out in a torrent of sewage like a dead fish.

They’ll have to “shower him off” with a garden hose as he spats-up water and washes behind his ears, his hair in a reeking tangle as the sun shines “way too bright”.

In America it’s your right to be proud, ignorant, and free as respectable society beats a respectable distance and holds its nose.

I think there’s enough fetid material here to bring back “THE JUICE”. Let it not be “poop-juice” but he’s going to be pretty sick and too hung-over to come into work the next night.

That’s what A.A. is for, or “After-Life Anonymous”.


Make a name for yourself. . . . . . and support this new documentary coming out that explores the actual Beetlejuice movie source material from 30 years ago. Say “his name” three times OR BE A VAGRANT ON THE SIDEWALK OF LIFE.


Too hot to handle!

“The Sausage Castle” BURNED-DOWN. . . . .


The Inferno Room Meets “Sausage Castle”, USA