Some time ago I had gotten some e-mail from a producer down in
Washington DC who made a short film he wanted me to see. It was
simply titled "King of Porn" and he thought I'd find it
interesting.
Krulik also co-produced the underground film "Heavy Metal
Parking Lot" (directed by John Heyn) a documentary of people hanging before a Judas Priest show in DC which has been making the underground festival circuit
since it was produced in 1986.
I had forgotten I sent Jeff my address for a screener copy, and was
pleasantly surprised that given the current dicsusions of "Fan of
the Year" this should show up on my doorstep.
The film is very modest, taking place in and about the home of our
subject. It is also on the short side, running about 7 minutes; it
would be perfect for a low-key, adult version of Entertainment
Tonight.
We first meet Ralph Whittington in a series of cards and standups
in and about his house "outside Washington D.C." After a card that
says "government worker" he explains that he has worked for the
last 30 years as an archivist at the Library of Congress. He calls
his Porsche "one of his many passions." His extensive library of
R&B records "is another passion." He has a favorite chair where he
likes to smoke his "fine, fine tobacco."
Finally, we get to THE card. There on the screen in big white
letters reads his title: "King of Porn"
He calls his collection of "400 tapes, thousands of magazines and
articles on the subject" a "work in progress."
He has stacks of books, slicks, tapes and magazines in his
basement. Most of it is catalogued, but with the mail coming in at
about 2 pounds a week, it's tough to keep up.
He has a series of personal pictures of himself with pornstars like
Candy Samples, Ginger Lynn and Vanessa del Rio. It allows him to
be more "hands on" :-)
His pantry is filled with credeal boxes and soda sharing shelf
space with Taxi Girls and Rainwoman 2.
His favorite piece: the Beta I version of Deep Throat. With a Beta
I machine to match.
In Ralph's bedroom, we geet to meet our hapless producer for a
moment before he collapses on the bed.
Ralph takes an archivist's mind to his collection. He looks for
the rare tapes that may have some value. He breaks his collection
down into genres, like "bikers" and shows off some tapes made with
"real bikers from upstate New York."
Fan clubs get their own box. As does Jim Holliday's "True Legends"
series, which Ralph considers "reference material."
The film goes on to tell us that upon his death, Ralph's collection
will be accepted into the Museum of Modern Art in New York City.
At the very end, The King of Porn meets "Fanboy" something I didn't
quite understand, but liked nonetheless and the producer knighted
this guy (with a big dildo) "Fanboy".
I found this to be a very interesting little film. Jeff also sent
me some clips about this guy which appeared in the Washingtion City
Paper (1/24/97) and some supporting info about himself.
If you should notice either of Jeff Krulick's films -- "Heavy Metal
Parking Lot" or "King of Porn" -- at a film festival near you, I
recommend you give them a look.
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Created: Saturday, February 22, 1997 1:09:00 PM
Last Updated:
169 “I can arrange all that.” Such Apaches as had not gone back on the war-path returned to the States with the troops; but there were five months more of the outrages of Geronimo and his kind. Then in the summer of the year another man, more fortunate and better fitted to deal with it all, perhaps,—with the tangle of lies and deceptions, cross purposes and trickery,—succeeded where Crook had failed and had been relieved of a task that was beyond him. Geronimo was captured, and was hurried off to a Florida prison with his band, as far as they well could be from the reservation they had refused to accept. And with them were sent other Indians, who had been the friends and helpers of the government for years, and who had run great risks to help or to obtain peace. But the memory and gratitude of governments is become a proverb. The southwest settled down to enjoy its safety. The troops rested upon the laurels they had won, the superseded general went on with his work in another field far away to the north. The new general, the saviour of the land, was heaped[Pg 305] with honor and praise, and the path of civilization was laid clear. Parliament met on the 10th of January, 1765. The resentment of the Americans had reached the ears of the Ministry and the king, yet both continued determined to proceed. In the interviews which Franklin and the other agents had with the Ministers, Grenville begged them to point to any other tax that would be more agreeable to the colonists than the stamp-duty; but they without any real legal grounds drew the line between levying custom and imposing an inland tax. Grenville paid no attention to these representations. Fifty-five resolutions, prepared by a committee of ways and means, were laid by him on the table of the House of Commons at an early day of the Session, imposing on America nearly the same stamp-duties as were already in practical operation in England. These resolutions being adopted, were embodied in a bill; and when it was introduced to the House, it was received with an apathy which betrayed on all hands the profoundest ignorance of its importance. Burke, who was a spectator of the debates in both Houses, in a speech some years afterwards, stated that he never heard a more languid debate than that in the Commons. Only two or three persons spoke against the measure and that with great composure. There was but one division in the whole progress of the Bill, and the minority did not reach to more than thirty-nine or forty. In the Lords, he said, there was, to the best of his recollection, neither division nor debate! His cheek paled for an instant as the thought obtruded that the man might resist and he have to really shoot him. "Good, the old man's goin' to take the grub out to 'em himself," thought the Deacon with relief. "He'll be easy to manage. No need o' shootin' him." "Them that we shot?" said Shorty carelessly, feeling around for his tobacco to refill his pipe. "Nothin'. I guess we've done enough for 'em already." John Dodd, twenty-seven years old, master, part of the third generation, arranged his chair carefully so that it faced the door of the Commons Room, letting the light from the great window illumine the back of his head. He clasped his hands in his lap in a single, nervous gesture, never noticing that the light gave him a faint saintlike halo about his feathery hair. His companion took another chair, set it at right angles to Dodd's and gave it long and thoughtful consideration, as if the act of sitting down were something new and untried. "Besides," Norma said desperately, "they're only rumors—" "Oh, I've found a way of gitting shut of them rootses—thought of it while I wur working at the trees. I'm going to blast 'em out." During the next ten years the farm went forward by strides. Reuben bought seven more acres of Boarzell in '59, and fourteen in '60. He also bought a horse-rake, and threshed by machinery. He was now a topic in every public-house from Northiam to Rye. His success and the scant trouble he took to conciliate those about him had made him disliked. Unprosperous farmers[Pg 124] spoke windily of "spoiling his liddle game." Ditch and Ginner even suggested to Vennal that they should club together and buy thirty acres or so of the Moor themselves, just to spite him. However, money was too precious to throw away even on such an object, especially as everyone felt sure that Backfield would sooner or later "bust himself" in his dealings with Boarzell. "Let's go home," she said faintly—"it's getting late." HoME干别人老婆嗯啊小说
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