By Elias Nebula

Thursday, November 12, 2015

"Derelict TV."

1. "Goober Rownowsky" on a Youtube message board referred to Dog and Beth as "an old crack addict and his fat tag along woman." Were Dog's lawyers alerted. Beth: "Okay he may be an old crack addict, I don't know, but I am not fat. And I don't tag along."

2. Dog's technique in this one episode cannot be credited.  He said, "Hi, it's Dog. Will you come talk to me? Are these wild goats? That's a herd of wild goats. How's it. So I'm gonna show you a picture of this chronic guy that comes back here. That tries to hide here."

His auditor had no shirt but it was okay, he had a neck brace to maintain his dignity.

3. Think of some of the dumb shows we watched that went absolutely nowhere. Moonshots to the good loam. Even so, their wider significance.

Dog is about the dumb bailbondsmen that come for you and have power over you when you fail at life itself.

Storage Wars is about stocking up too much against Heaven and then losing it to cheap, canny fools.

Market Warriors is about the decline in cultural discernment. Ubi sunt...

4. Misread "Direct TV" as "Derelict TV".

Monday, September 14, 2015

"Dog Yawps the Body Electric."

On a recent episode (August 2015) Dog was so angry he kept applying the epithet  "bitch" to the wife of the defendant, just to vent his aching spleen. He was so angry he was bending the rules of the English language (–– again).

"That's it. Aiding and abetting. She's under bitch arrest."

"Bitch" is now an adjective.
"Clothes-line" is a verb. 

Later he was so elated in the SUV that he transcended mere langue et parole. He emitted a sort of native cry, a joyful noise unto the Lord:––


The dumb cracker bondsman he was working with that day didn't know how to deal with Dog's wild barbaric yawp from the earth soil and so he went, awkwardly, "Uh yeah. Sure. Yeehaw."

Idea for a film. Duane Chapman as Walt Whitman.

("Also featuring Fabian Ironside as William Ellery Channing the Younger.")

Sunday, September 13, 2015

"Bran New Teeth."

How about this new theme music: Is that Dog singing it himself?

[Comic IRISHMAN voice:] "Is it himself, so it is?"

I suspect they couldn't afford Ozzy any more or maybe Ozzy amazingly decided that he didn't want any further association with Dog and Beth –– that they were lowering the level of his artistic profile. I smell the intervening hand of Sharon in it. Ozzy had slummed it among the lower classes too long and Sharon issued a diktat that he was no longer to associate with such reality TV types.

On this week's episode we saw an obese male bailbondsman of around sixty–odd who, he was always sat down while all the action went on around him. Sitting in a flat cap ominously cradling a pair of crutches.

(I got in a fight in Greenpoint, Brooklyn once over a pair of crutches.
I made a fast joke at the expense of the wrong man.
A neighbourhood lunatic.
Actually his wife.
I said, "What you going to do, come at me with your wife's set of crutches?"
Then he did just that.)

The big man observes life gnomically through his cellphone viewfinder. He sits on his broad duff, clutches his crutches and photographs the wide world with his phone, like a hoarder of dull images. Like a non-participant in the hard world.

His two dumb unter–flunkies lined up to be tazered by Dog and Beth so that they could learn how it felt to be tazered. They queued up to be shot with a machine-gun so they could know how it felt to die.

In fact the male of the species, with the harelip, the cauliflower ear and the broken button nose, actually asked to be tazered.
He was.
He stood there, lumpen, shovel-faced, unhindered by the volts of electricity roaring through him. That big tough ugly son-of-a-bitch of a mountain of a man with a cleft lip and a heart of gold. He withstood the voltage. He endured.

Speaking of harelips, Dog the Bounty Hunter's had his teeth capped and now he looks rather like a hare himself. You find you want to feed him carrots, pumpkin seeds, an iceberg lettuce and some dandelions. You wonder where he's hidden his nuts for the winter season.

Anyway, the obese guy naturally took a picture of this tazer scene with his cellphone and he simpered, "I'm proud. It's like watching your kids go to the prom."

He then amended this:

"Not together obviously."

"That would be incest."

"Incest is illegal in most States."

"Not only that it is disgusting."

"Although interestingly the dim distant origins of the taboo have nothing to do with social morality or indeed genetics, it's all to do with bridal dowries in ancient primitive cultures."

(A lot of this wide-ranging rumination was not featured in the show.)

Then Dog woke up from one of his reveries (or, "patented vertical snoozefests") and elected to essay a florid remark of his own. As the tazered twosome, shrovetide pancake face and cloven my palate and his goodwife, prepared to go out on a "jump", Dog waxed sagacious. He said "It's like teaching your kid to drive, and then finally she gets in the wheel."

He actually said that blooper thing, "Gets in the wheel."

I turned to my wife and said, "That is, she literally crawls inside a wheel."

I furthermore said, "Does nobody care that the English language is rapidly becoming forfeit through teevee like this? That rambling piffle is now king of the Earth? That the finer works of the beautiful old men are crucified daily on TV for the amusement of the mean, vicious rabble?"

My wife swatted that away and just said, "Dog's had a deep tan."

Uh –– yeah. He looks like a bright red beaver in a lime green wig.

I said, "Yeah well he's had something done to his teeth too."

The obese guy sat there meanwhile, hugging his crutches contentedly to his flabby chest and being enigmatic and jaded like a bigshot, seen-it-all man-of-the-world. He didn't apparently take umbrage that Dog had essentially stolen his allegorical figure, about kids going to a prom. He was broad-minded like that.

They had a lead on one Dalten [sic] Casto [sic], a guy who looked a lot like Leland's wayward son Dakota. In fact I sat there with a pen and paper with my tongue peeping out of the corner of my mouth trying to work out if his name was in fact an anagram of Dakota's and it was Dakota in disguise.  It wasn't. The bail people said, "This one I think will be a fun one for Leland. The guy works at a paintball place."

As if to say, while tossing Leland a yoyo, "Leland has the mind of an unremarkable eight-year-old. He'll love this one."

("This one I think will be a fun one for Leland. The guy works at a teddy bear factory.")
("Leland will like this one. We're going to play with Legos.")
("Leland is never happier than when schmeared up to his eyeballs in fluorescent goo.")

Saturday, September 12, 2015

"Short Arm of the Law."

Dog was going down to Alabama to help an old lady who looked like the late Bill Burroughs in drag, if Burroughs had had a stroke. Down to good old Baldwin County.

Her bailbondsman business had been suspended by one of those willful, autocratic, contrarian frontier circuit judges you used to read about in the Spirit of the Times in the 1830s. She couldn't resume her trade until she had apprehended a client who had skipped town & headed, it was said, to Oakland, California.

Dog phoned her up from his tourbus to get the details.
She relayed him the skinny. "Ah believe the rascal hays absconded to that ere Californy," she said.
"Uh huh ma'am. We're on our way to Alabama now so we'll see you in a few days."
"Naow: yew all did hear me say he had absconded to Californy, didn't you."
"Yes ma'am. We're heading to Alabama now."

Dog did some keen sleuth work –– he phoned up a bounty hunter in California named "Topo" (yes, same name as the sentient octopus sidekick in Silver Age numbers of Aquaman) and asked him to catch the guy. Dog preferred to go to Alabama.
He turned up at the stroke lady's place of domicile and said, "You got any jumps we can do."
"Yeou do realize ah'm not allowed to practice out of here don't you?"
"Uh huh ma'am."
"Ah cain't help but wonder wha you didn't go to Californy lahk ah mentioned–––"
"Uh ma'am we like it here just fine in Alabama. Got any jumps?"

They had a couple of jumps, just petty pilferers. Low-grade scum-bait. The mugshots they showed of the "defendants" were obviously still–shots of them taken on the backseat of Dog's SUV, so we knew from the outset that this was going to be a successful bust. They plundered the future to illustrate the past, creating incidentally a paradox and a wormhole in the fabric of the space-time continuum. It sort of ruined the narrative tension not to mention the very substance of reality.

Beth did one of her gnomic trade questions.
"Can I tell you, when two girls get picked up together for shoplifting what do you think that is?" she asked the bailbondswoman secretary.
It was a riddle worthy of the Sphinx.
"...That it's a group ...?" the woman asked, groping, confused, looking plaintively at the camera for a hint.
Breaking the first rule of reality TV.
"That's a drug habit," said Beth all tough and as though it was one of Jefferson's truths that we hold to be self-evident.
The woman, in response, simply shook her head. At Beth –– at drugs –– at the wide world in its dismal decline –– it was not clear.

It was Melville's "NO! in thunder."
Carlyle's Everlasting No.

Elsewhere on the show Dog phoned up a possible number for the suspect.
A woman answered it.
"Who's this?" Dog growled. Unorthodox play.
"Who's this?" came the not–unreasonable rejoinder.
"Ralph G." was Dog's quicksilver response.
"Ralph G.?" goes the voice.
"Whatever," Dog said, and hung up.
He returned to his cohorts and said with ironclad confidence, "That's her."
How did he deduce it.
He just sort of knows.
Guy's a mental savant.
Guy's telekinetic.

That's as maybe but he's had something done, something awful, something dental done.
To his teeth.
He looks like a confounded rabbit.
Even when he shuts his mouth you can see his buck teeth are creating a bulge in his upper lip and they are visible even when he is trying his best to shut his mouth. It lends him a new, awful earnestness. He had his new teeth made too big or I don't know what all happened, result is he looks like a damn red-faced rodent with bright green hair!

Monday, August 31, 2015

"Clothes Line Is Now a Verb (Confusion Is Sex)."

On “Music City Mayhem” (originally aired 30 Aout 2014),  

J.P. Henderson said to the camera, “It’s all about boots on the ground, as they say in the Marines.” 
This guy is a tough guy. 
Never been in the Marines.
This guy he was never even in the cub scouts.
Still, one of those small-town tough guys.

Hunter Chambers was acting all tough too. “Been doing this job four months now,” he said, eyes seven-eighths shut. 
Yes okay, technically I’m a temp.”

Ha. Fresh from the killing fields of data entry

On this episode, set in Tennessee, ANDY, the scion of a Nashville bailbondsmen empire, elected to join Dog and his crowd as they went running and howling after a fleeing fugitive. 
He would come to regret that decision. 

The fugitive, somebody said, his father had once fed a boy to some hogs.
Doesn’t everybody do that in the South though.
At some point in their lives.
Dog made a crack about that but I missed it because there was a guy outside our window with a leafblower.

Another fugitive had his son buried in his back garden. 
“Where did you last see somebody buried in a back garden liken that?,” the Cumberland County boys asked Dog with a sort of civic pride. 
Samoa,” Dog grunted back, instinctively, mysteriously. 
Like Chinatown

They were talking reverently about “Mountain Folk” and their unique folkways. 
Apparently these secretive and remote people don’t have electricity or rudimentary running water but they are all avid users of Facebook.

(The other day as we were driving down one of the shittier miles of Hollywood Boulevard I said to my wife, "Facebook and Starbucks are now victims of their own success. They are now colonized almost exclusively by bummers and rounders and scoundrels. It is the eternal pedigree of success to plunge into infamy."

I became carried away and I quoted Whitman:

"Have you heard that it was good to gain the day?... 
I also say it is good to fail . . . Vivas to those who have failed...")

One character at least gave himself up to the police rather than be taken by Dog. I think this is a way that canny criminals exact an unpleasant metafictional, extratextual revenge on Dog: they sabotage the whole narrative structure of the episode. They "break down the fourth wall" as readers of Deadpool comics never tire of saying. After all the thrill of the chase there is a prosaic addendum where the actual details of the arrest can only be described lamely, retrospectively from a remote location. 

Premature ejaculation is our lot. 

Beth took one of her signature dislikes to this one bounty man, a Southron clownfish with a high flutey voice, a bright red face and copper-coloured hair. 
She kept cussing his driving. 
She had acquired a pronounced disdain for this man. At one point she said, “Whoever’s in the car in front can’t drive.”
It was obvious she knew who was driving, but the next shot, of the driver's seat in the next car, bore it out: the redfaced guy.

In the midst of the incomprehensible kerfuffle that ensued, the melee that always accompanies an actual arrest situation on the show, somebody could be heard hollering with terrific seriousness, “Man down!” 
It was like the Mekong Delta. 
Dog’s people heard the words Man down! and went feral. They were like Wolverine when he loses his last vestiges of his noble humanity (that is, every week): bloodthirsty for payback, vowing to "escalate" matters and tazer the fugitive. 

Then it turned out that the "man" who was "down", Andy the Tennessee bailbondsman, had run splat into a barbed-wire fence and it had knocked him down and winded him. 
“He just got clothes-lined by that barb-wire!” somebody said. 

Is clothes-line really a verb now?

That’s one way of putting it I suppose.
Another is that he "clothes-lined" himself.

He ran headlong into a barbed-wire fence!

Sunday, September 29, 2013

"And O Where Is Duane Lee Today On This Day?" Or, "Baby Lyssa Said..."

The gang went down to Alabama, where they pursued a young lady ("Shakeisha") with a bad "rap sheet". They tracked her down and tricked her into coming to a food court car park –– the preferred site for toxic smackdowns.

They caught Shakeisha fairly effortlessly, with the usual excess of hollering and waving of empty bazookas.

As she shoved Shakeisha onto the backseat Beth said, "This isn't as bad as what you think it is."
Shakeisha snuffled, "It look like it, though."
Beth said, "You have two attempted murders on your history."
Shakeisha said, "I'm not that person though."

Strange paradox –– you tried to kill people on two separate occasions but you're not that person by any means. It's true. It could happen to anyone and they're really blameless after all.

Watching this episode I suddenly ("pointlessly") thought, plaintively and possibly for the first time, "Whatever happened to Duane Lee?"

I did rudimentary research (having no patience for anything more) and found an interview with Baby Lyssa, about her new book. It seems there is some bad blood between Baby Lyssa and Beth, and it seems also that Dog takes Beth's side against his children. There was talk of Beth's malefic influence over the internet –– that she reads adverse criticism and takes it personally and vindictively, and that Beth hath a long arm indeed and it is said that her fingernails are even longer than her arm.

I read all this about Beth's long arm and her fingernails and wondered wistfully whether she'd perhaps ever read my humble "feuilletons" on her family and whether [bashful, blushing] she ever wanted to send some redneck faux-bikers round here to duff me up!

In this same interview with Baby Lyssa, she was rightly miffed by an interview lately bruited all over Hollywood town in which Beth had said that Leland, who stayed right adamant with the Chapman traveling circus, and not with his brothers and sisters, because he was following the money (Baby Lyssa said), was the "son that loved Dog the best." (Recalling that well-discussed epithet from the gospels, "The disciple whom Jesus loved.") Apparently Lyssa and Duane Lee laughed quite savagely at this report.

Their laughter hath set them free!

Tuesday, September 10, 2013

"A Mitzvah On Your First-Born." Or, "Sound, Fury, And So On."

"That's a good question. That--the explanation of that whole book is in that. It began with the picture of the little girl's muddy drawers, climbing that tree to look in the parlor window with her brothers that didn't have the courage to climb the tree waiting to see what she saw."
     William Faulkner on the genesis of The Sound and the Fury. From Faulkner in the University.

"Cry baby, Luster said. Aint you shamed. We went through the barn. The stalls were all open. You aint got no spotted pony to ride now, Luster said. The floor was dry and dusty. The roof was falling. The slanting holes were full of spinning yellow. What do you want to go that way, for. You want to get your head knocked off with one of them balls."
      The Sound and the Fury

Notes from a recent episode:––
                                                    thoughts resulting:––

1. Dog, post-bust, saying "God bless" and "Aloha" to the cops as they part ways. He goes too far, and calls one of them "sweetheart".

2. Perp's name was Alfred.  Dog, that old dotard, staggered through the perp's home, hoarsely hollering for him to give himself up; calling him variously "Howard" and "Albert".

3. The team have those huge Rob Liefeld Cable and X-Force-style flame-thrower bazookas that they carry abroad with them, but they can't possibly fire bullets, so what exactly do they fire?

              A: Ping-pong balls.
              A: Hot air.
              A: Cotton candy.

4. This was the episode which introduced a new character, Leland's benighted son DAKOTA, to the cast. Followed the usual hazing that verges on child abuse. Leland sprayed Dakota in the eyes with mace and tazed him. Tackled him hard in the street and gave him "noogies". Then he sat him astride a female masturbation device and forced him to "go ten rounds atop it." I didn't see quite how this was relevant to the successful learning of crime-fighting techniques.

To properly mark the solemn dynastic quality of the episode, Leland gathered everybody on the "Big Island" where he would have them go in pursuit of the son of a man he had arrested seven years earlier.

Dakota had graduated that week and Leland obviously felt the undeniable pull of the years and the miracle of time passing and the cosmic cycles and equinoxes and solstices that mark a man's time on this paltry planet. He was waxing philosophical, reminiscent: "My son's graduating. I'm so proud. He wants to be a bounty hunter. I actually had Dakota in my arms when I walked up my graduation line. So for his graduation present I'm going to buy him his first truck."

I spent about half a minute trying to determine how the one situation in the dim past (the magnificent  babe in arms scene) led ipso facto to his decision in the present to buy Dakota a truck. Then I caught myself, remembered that this was Dog and Beth on the Hunt, and as such had no debt to reason, and dismissed the speculation utterly.

This episode was Faulknerian, and not just from all the dwelling on doomed, collapsing white dynasties hellbent on vicious self-destruction. No, and not just the Myth of the Lost Cause. Faulkner's hand seemed to be directing Leland's gobsmacked awe as he recalled how seven years previous he had hidden in a "little room by the gate" and waited for the old scoundrel to return. It came back to him irresistibly in a stream of consciousness, like Caddy in her muddy drawers watching through the window––

Now Leland was coming for the son of the old rascal. Fatherhood was in the episode –– inheritance –– blood crimes. The sins of the father visited on the head of the first-born.

Absalom, Absalom. Old Colonel Sutpen. A mitzvah on your first-born. The remains of the family, reclusive in the neglected tracts, hidden out in his ruined old mansion –– the bougainvillea, the neglected porch swing, and cetera.

To add spice to the mix, the old man himself was only now out of his seven year "stretch" and he blundered straight into the middle of the arrest.

As Leland was hunkering down in his old hiding place, as if in a divine pocket outside time –– Zachary in the tree ––  ecstatically feeling the onrush of time and empires and dynasties, the smallness of Man and the largeness of God, the old man came onto the set roaring profanities and picking a brawl with Dog. Meanwhile, the old man's girlfriend was sitting in the cab of the pick-up putting on lipstick by the dashboard light!

"So ironic," Dog mused after the anticlimactic arrest. Summing up. "So ironic that this is the second generation that Leland has arrested, he arrested the father years ago, now arrested the son. It's the third generation of bounty hunters. It's ironic that, you know, how the world turns."

It would've been nice to end it there with that universal thought for the day, but hey killed the moment rather by showing a preview of next week's show where Dog brays, "We ain't huntin' alligators. We ain't huntin' boar. We're huntin' a man."