BEATNIK (n.)

Beatnik (n.) -- sarcastic term for a beat. Derived by Herb Caen in 1958 as a combination of Beat and Sputnik

Dig it man, I ain't no clyde, I wear my cogs at night and always dig a wild wail coming from my box from early black to early bright. But damn, dad, I never really did dig the fore-runners of the whole scene see. I've read Ginsberg, Burroughs and Kerouac but they never really did it for me. I did however really like Neal Cassady's "First Third" that book blew my motor man. The real beats though were the ones who never got that label but lived exciting and wrote exciting. I prefer things more interesting than Kerouac talkin' 'bout putting a hole in the ground and...um...putting his....you know...becoming "one" with nature. Of course Bukowski always raised my brows. He was a damn dirty ape, but great to read. It's like tapping into the deepest darkest parts of yourself without actually having to have the psychological residue of committing the atrocities he did.

I do have to say that I consider Jim Thompson the first REAL Beat. Sure he's my favorite writer, but damn he lived an exciting life. Starting in high school he became a bellboy during prohibition helping rum runners and dodging house dicks. He drank so much and didn't sleep that at one point he walked into his house, paused, fell down and blood rushed from his mouth. From that point on he had the DTs, traveled on trains, hopped trains, worked trains, stayed in derelect hotel rooms, took odd jobs, dealt with odd people and created the BEST Goddamn Pulp ever written. He was BEAT man!

Sadly however, I think that the whole beatnik thang is totally male-centric and what little work of the beat women I've read didn't do it for me. I find that the rebel yell of ladies came later with Patty Smith, Lydia Lunch, and Exene Cervenka who pioneered what I would consider BEAT PUNK.

SO WHY ALL THIS BLAH BLAH BLAH about BEAT...ONLY because I wanted to tell you to watch ROGER CORMAN'S "BUCKET of BLOOD". It's a sarcastic horror/comedy about a busboy who works at a beatnik coffeeshop. He longs to become an artist and showcase his art in the shop. He soon discovers that murdering people and covering them with plaster is the HIPPEST thing he can do to become a REAL GONE CAT and crash the IN CROWD. My favorite part of the film is when the upper escelon beatnik fellow with a beard wears a tuxedo with burkenstock sandals. hahahaha. I LOVE ROGER CORMAN!