Inseminoid (1981, Larry Miller)

 

I have a history with Larry Miller's novelization of the Norman J. Warren film Inseminoid that dates back to the 1980s, despite having only got round to reading the book in the last couple of years. As a child my family would regularly visit Pendlebury market (now long since demolished to make way for an Asda), a cheap and cheerful indoor market that had the obligatory second hand bookstall. I wasn't much of a reader back then, but being into the horror genre, I had a tendency to browse through the horror section, mainly just to look at the covers. For years this stall had a copy of the Inseminoid novel and I always remember that the back cover featured a still from the movie of a dead man on the floor with his stomach exposed. Which back then, I considered the most disgusting sight I'd ever laid eyes on. Even so, every time I was there I'd go through the horror books, knowing I'd encounter the dreaded Inseminoid and dare myself to look at the back cover in order to gross myself out. I know it's now fashionable to claim that growing up in the 1980s was a traumatizing experience, what with the threat of AIDS, the IRA, rabies and nuclear war, but to be honest all that went over my young head. The only things that unsettled me as a child was Margaret Thatcher, Judge Death and the back cover of Inseminoid. I suppose it gives an idea of how little value or little love there was for pulp horror back then if that copy of Inseminoid stayed put at that stall for years. Of course if I could live my life over I would have gotten into collecting books in the 1980s, knowing how much they are worth now. The online prices people are asking for the Inseminoid book these days would have probably bought you every book on that stall back then. Saying that if I had, it would have probably diverted me from collecting pre-cert videos, which were similarly going for next to nothing at Pendlebury market in the late 80s. I didn't actually catch up with the Inseminoid movie till 1992 when the Vipco label re-released on VHS and I have to admit to being pretty underwhelmed by it. Too little alien, too much of people running around caves, and a few seconds of someone cutting off their own ankle being the only memorable gore scene. Vipco had come back strongly during their second VHS incarnation in the 1990s, with the likes of The Deadly Spawn, Shogun Assassin and Zombie Flesh Eaters... against which Inseminoid felt like a disappointing, low energy experience. I have to say that Norman J Warren is one of those filmmakers whose work I find myself admiring rather than really enjoying. I like that Warren had to get up and go to make independent movies that pushed the boundaries and took away the safety net of the likes of Hammer and Amicus. Yet, his movies just tend to leave me cold, there is something impersonal and mechanical about Terror, Bloody New Year and Inseminoid. They all tend to suffer from having too many characters, none of whom ever leave much of an impression, meaning there's little emotional impact when they all predictably come to an unpleasant end. At best the likes of Terror and Bloody New Year achieve a kind of ghost train approach where you're shunted from one horror movie incident to another, yet rarely do you give a damn about a character in a Norman J. Warren film.

 

The Inseminoid book and the film roughly share the same premise...on a remote planet, a team of archaeologists excavate the ruins of an ancient alien civilization in the hope of learning about the origins of man. During the exploration, crew member Sandy is overpowered and artificially inseminated by an alien. Thereafter Sandy begins turning against her fellow archaeologists, brutally murdering them in an attempt to protect the twin fetuses growing inside her.

In book form Inseminoid feels accidentally ahead of it's time, and closer to what people expect from movie novelizations now. Back in the 1980s the name of the game for novelizations was to reproduce the movie as accurately as possible. Today, when movie novelizations appear they tend to be aimed at long time fans of these movies who don't need a blow by blow account of a plot they know like the back of their hand. Instead modern day movie novelizations tend to justify their existence by pursuing avenues that the source movies did not, offer an alternate spin on storylines or significantly adding something to them. This is what you get with the Inseminoid novelization, seeming on account of author Larry Miller being a man on a mission to up the sex and violence content of the film, and the fact that Miller was basing the book on an earlier draft of the film's screenplay, which was presumably penned with a much more ambitious, much more bigger budgeted production in mind. The script was written by special effects artist Nick Maley and his wife Gloria, as a showcase for what Maley was capable of when it came to F/X. However, I’m inclined to believe that we shouldn't take this book as an exact representation of the couple's script. Rumour is that Nick Maley isn't fond of the direction that the novelization went in, leading you to suspect that the pornographic content of the book was Miller's contribution. What's heartbreaking about this version of Inseminoid is that you get an idea of the special effects bonanza that the Maleys envisioned before the reality of low budget filmmaking brought Inseminoid crashing back down to earth. In the book we have a character having their ear, part of their arm and one of their eyeballs melt away, which the film forgoes in favour of simply killing the character off in an explosion. Then there is the discovery of hundreds of tablets containing alien hieroglyphics, which the film couldn't afford to visualize, the alien being discovered in a crystal like coffin, also beyond the film's budget, a character using a hi-tech laser to sever their foot, which the film had to substitute for them severing their leg with a chainsaw instead. Basically what we get here is a catalog of ideas that were too expensive to film, and Maley would have to wait till he became involved in big budget movies like Krull and Lifeforce to really prove what he was capable of.

 

I remember when Vipco put the film out on tape they hyped it as 'the Sci-fi bunk up of all time', as if it was Porkies meets Alien. It's a quote that doesn't really suit the film, the sex and nudity in it hardly plays out within a side-splitting context, and the 'Sci-fi bunk up of all time' is actually a more accurate description of the book. Miller hypersexualises the film's plot to the extent that it comes across like a porn parody of Inseminoid rather than an official adaptation of it. In the film there is a few seconds of Sandy and a male co-worker making out, other than that the archeologists are a fairly asexual bunch. However in the book we basically get Plato's Retreat in outer space. It seems in this version of the future, becoming an archeologist is the career to pursue if you want to get your end away. Just ask randy young buck Ricky "If he’d been asked why he’d become a space archaeologist, sex would have come first on the list, adventure second and scientific motivation a lowly third. But then no one asked". No woman it seems can resist having a wandering eye when it comes to hunky Ricky "even Sandy found herself admiring his bulging forearms and solid thighs. Not to mention a certain other bulging part of his anatomy. As much as she tried to be professional, she was still very much a woman." Sandy herself has an admirer in Karl, who we learn is "a sucker for fair-skinned blondes, especially ones with big breasts. And that was Sandy."

Miller's most memorable contribution to Inseminoid lore in the book is the invention of the 'sexual rotation scheme' whereby all of the archaeologists have to change sexual partners, seemingly every couple of weeks. The thinking there being that this will discourage emotional attachments between co-workers. However there is contradictory evidence in the book over how successful this enforced sexual activity actually is. At one point a character cites the effectiveness of the scheme by pointing out that crew member Kate was able to kill Ricky, who has gone nuts, despite Kate and Ricky having currently been in a sexual relationship. However in the same chapter we also learn that Barbra has fallen for Mitch, the sole black male among the archaeologists, and is delighted that they've currently been assigned each other as sexual partners. Which even leads Barbra to hope she'll have a baby with Mitch 'she was sure the baby would be a beautiful shade of golden brown'. They say that Sci-fi often speaks more about the time it was written in than the future it was predicting. A statement that rings true of Inseminoid, for all of the sexual content Miller brings to the book, there is an underlining conservatism to his contributions to Inseminoid. One that reflects a cultural kickback against the sexual excess of the 1970s, and scaremongers over a future where romantic, monogamous relationships will be a thing of the past and sex will become a meaningless, recreational activity. A thinking that obviously didn't see AIDS coming. Time has also proved that Miller lacked the foresight to predict the growing social acceptance of homosexually. The futuristic sexual rota scheme here only paring couples off into straight relationships, and with gay relationships still seen as illicit, career destroying and the love that dare not speak it's name. When Holly and Kate decide to break the rules by getting it on together, Holly fears that "she'd lose her commission" if their love affair is ever discovered. Given the book's inclination towards sleaze though, such concerns doesn't prevent her from muff-diving Kate, which Miller characteristically describes in explicit detail. Further examples of the Inseminoid novel being a reaction against the attitudes of the 1970s include Miller's seeming disapproval over the easy availability of contraception in outer space and the indifference characters have towards abortion. When Sandy discovers she's accidentally become pregnant, the news is indelicately broken to her with "bad luck, don't worry we'll abort it" to which she shrugs off with "I'm ready if you are". In this respect it does feel like the book and the film end up having a bit of a parting of the ways. Whereas in the film, Sandy's violence towards her crew mates feels very random and senseless, the book places greater emphasis on the fact that she is lashing out against the people who are trying to abort her babies. The jury is out on whether that is because the book can get more inside of Sandy's head than the film can, or whether it's evidence of Miller being of the pro-life persuasion. When you hear that the book has an interracial romance that isn't in the movie, and turns one of the characters into a lesbian, you'd be inclined to think that the book was the more socially progressive of the book and the movie, and you'd be totally incorrect.

The film version of Inseminoid was one of a number of films that were targeted by British women's groups over violence against women in movies, in the wake of the Yorkshire Ripper killings. However if you compare the book to the movie, you do find yourself thinking that the feminists were beating up the wrong guy by going after the movie. The book has far greater issues with women, especially women in the workplace and is constantly arguing that their gender renders them ineffectual. Either because they are either too preoccupied by the idea of having babies, as in the case of Barbra, too distracted by male bulges, as in the case of Sandy, or too emotional and closet lesbians, as in the case of Holly. These are concerns that Miller addresses through the character of sub-commander Mark, an inoffensive non-entity in the movie, but who in the book has this whole character arc evolving around his resentment over being passed over for the commander job in favour of a woman and is constantly being proved right by the incompetence of Holly. It is true that Holly is as useless in the movie as she is the book, but the movie doesn't make that great a deal about it, or has same kind of resentment issues that the book has. All of which comes to a head in the book when Mark has enough of being a hen-pecked man, tells Holly she is the "full of shit" and punches her in the stomach. An act that Miller clearly envisioned as a crowd pleaser designed to get the audience on Mark's side. I tend to think that was something which Norman J. Warren wouldn't have been comfortable bringing to the film. Despite the feminist backlash against the Inseminoid movie, and some unpleasant male violence against women in Satan's Slave, I don't get a woman hating vibe from Warren, he's remembered as an authentic nice guy and a gentleman. It's telling that no actress who ever worked for Warren has ever had a bad word to say about the experience, quite the contrary. Warren wasn't was of those exploitation directors who split opinion among actresses, unlike Jose Larrez, Pete Walker or Stanley Long where some actresses will now sing their praises while others have ended up regretting working for them. Admittedly there are moments in the book where it looks like Miller is coming to the defense of women whose attractiveness is preventing them from being taking seriously in the workplace, but Larry Miller as a second wave feminist doesn't exactly convince. "She was a knockout, long silky blond hair, soft white skin, firm breasts and a shapely ass, but hell, it wasn't her fault. Was she supposed to get fat so people would take her seriously". I'd have to question why Miller changed so much of the dialogue in the script, which based on the movie was unexceptional but serviceable, to the master class in flat, unnatural dialogue we get here. Re-reading the book hasn't left me with a new founded appreciation of Miller's writing, but it has left me intrigued about the man himself. Miller is something of the mystery man in the Inseminoid saga. If Larry Miller was a real name that would suggest he was a one book and he was done author. On the other hand Miller could have been a pen name for a New English Library hack. The two most likely candidates there then would be Leo Callan, who wrote a reportedly bare bones novelization of Piranha for NEL as well as a few slave plantation books for them, which would explain the Inseminoid novelization’s detour into inter-racial love and the dehumanizing, plantation like sex rota system. The other man in the frame is James Moffatt, notorious for his NEL skinhead books written under the name Richard Allen. Moffatt also wrote the novelization of Queen Kong for NEL and his relationship with the company was ignominiously winding down in the early 1980s. Inseminoid does tick a few Moffatt boxes, it has his strong stomach for violence and brutal sex, the conservative rants about contraception and women in the workplace, as well as his jaded, workman like attitude towards writing. Tantalizing as the idea is of the Mr. Nice of British horror having one of his film's novelized by the Mr. Nasty of NEL, the spanner in the works which makes me question whether this is a hitherto unknown Moffatt book is the relationship between Barbara and Mitch. Given that Moffatt was extremely racist, in both on and off the page, I'm finding it hard to believe that he'd voluntarily introduce an inter-racial romance to the novelization, a plot detour that feels so unlike him. The very aspect that puts Callan in the frame for writing this would seem to exclude Moffatt from being the author here. So, without any clear answer to this whodunnit, Larry Miller will have to remain a subject that provokes many questions and so little answers.

 

Where I'd jump to the defense of the Inseminoid movie is the continuous writing off of it as merely an Alien ripoff. Supposedly the script was mainly written prior to Alien being released, so at best I think you can only accuse the Maleys of trying to second guess what Alien would be like. On account of the foundations for Inseminoid having been cemented before the release of Alien, it doesn't follow the Ridley Scott movie as beat for beat as later, more blatant Alien copycats like Titan Find or Forbidden World. It's hard to imagine a movie that was intentionally chasing the Alien dollar would do something as radical as killing the alien off in the first act and then introducing a secondary, non-alien threat. In the hands of Larry Miller you sense that the book may have been a little more influenced by Alien than the movie, especially when it comes the Inseminoid's rape of Sandy. In the film this is subtly played out with a surreal 'is it or isn't it a dream' scene of Sandy being artificially impregnated by the creature under medical conditions. As there's no such word as subtle in the New English Library dictionary, in the book we get the creature raping her with it's two giant rod-like penises, playing out like an X-rated version of the Xenomorph's attack on Veronica Cartwright's character in Alien with it's phallic like tail. Miller also turns Inseminoid into a less original work by imitating The Exorcist in his depiction of the post-rape and now pregnant Sandy who is suddenly hurling insults at women and turning the air blue with dirty talk aimed at men. Whereas the film skips that part of her personality transformation and goes straight from her being normal to her being animalistic and aggressive...she is woman hear her roar. In that respect, the Inseminoid movie also belongs to a brief, very exclusive sub-genre of horror cinema whose message could be summed up as "women sure are high maintenance, especially when they give birth to disgusting, slimy things", other members of this club would include The Brood, Possession and possibly also Xtro. Upon rewatching it, I was also stuck by how much the movie anticipates the slasher genre that was just around the corner, even if it doesn't totally follow the rules for that genre by being set in space and by having the killer's identity and motivation known from the get go. The book also unintentionally flips the slasher genre on the head by making the victims rather than the killer the ones who are difficult to get rid of. Dean loses an ear, part of his arm and an eyeball, yet still survives that and gets cryogenically frozen in the hope they can put him back together on earth. Later on another victim of the Inseminoid has her intestines pulled out and her eyeballs extracted, but she also survives that and similarly gets put on ice. Space archaeologists sure are a resilient bunch.

 

The book followed closely on the heels of the movie, coming out in April 1981, a month after the movie's theatrical release, so NEL would have been courting an audience who'd enjoyed the film and wanted a keepsake of it. The film was issued as a VHS rental tape in November 1981, but wasn't available as a sell through release until late 1987, so there was this six year period where the novelization was pretty much the only way for your average person to permanently own Inseminoid. The book does feel like a school playground re-telling of the movie by a kid who wanted to increase his cool status among his classmates, whose parents wouldn't allow them to watch movies like this, by grossly exaggerating it's content. 'Oh yeah I watched this video, Inseminoid, and the alien in it had two big knobs and he pulled this woman's head off, stuck it's fingers in her eyes and used her head like a bowling ball, it was proper Video Nasty stuff'.

In recent years the status of a Video Nasty has been bestowed on the Inseminoid movie, but I have to cry historic revisionism here. I don't recall anyone throughout the 1980s and 90s ever considering Inseminoid a Video Nasty. Only in the last couple of years does it seem that the net of what constitutes a Video Nasty has been cast wide enough to include just about every video that was ever given a dirty look by a police officer. Such was the uncontroversial nature of Inseminoid that it was granted a fully uncut, 18 certificate video release in 1987, whereas the genuine Video Nasties tended to be out of UK video circulation for over a decade and then only returned to the shelves in heavily cut form. I'm sure it helps sell copies of old, semi forgotten films on physical media by labeling them former Video Nasties. Ultimately though I think such a description is a determent to the likes of Inseminoid, since it raises expectations that the film is going to struggle to live up to. Ironically the book is very much what someone going into the film expecting a banned, video nasty will imagine they are in for.

 

Having re-read the book recently and also re-watched the movie for the first time in many years, I have to say that for all it's 'issues' I found the book much more fun. It's not at all well written by any means, but you are getting a version of Inseminoid absolutely free of any budgetary or censorship concerns, offering up an idea of what the film could have been had it had a fortune to blow on the special effects and had a sexual deviant for a director. At one point Miller's writing takes Sandy to task for 'crossing over the fine demarcation into the area of bad taste', a case of the kettle calling the pot black if ever there was one. Some of Miller's writing does tiptoe into the area of unintentional comedy gold 'she could anticipate his emotional, sexual and professional needs. That's why it didn't bother her in the least that during sex, Mitch's mind might wander on to hieroglyphics'. Given how much that back cover has stuck in my mind over the years though, I shudder to imagine how badly this book would have messed me up if I'd actually read it in the eighties.

 

Plasmid (1980, various artists)

 
Plasmid began life as an intended movie, meant to have been produced and directed by sexploitation filmmaker Stanley Long, who was fresh off the success of his 'Adventures of a...' movie series. Both Plasmid and Brainstorm were announced to the press in January 1979 as upcoming Long projects. Neither materialised in movie form, but while nothing was heard of Brainstorm "a hypnotism thriller" again, Long managed to salvage something from the aborted Plasmid movie by having the screenplay turned into a horror paperback, published by Star Books in 1980.

Plasmid is set in the seaside town of Oakhaven 'the sunniest spot on the south coast' that as well as a holiday destination is also home to the Fairfield Institute of Genetic Research. It is there where experiments on convicted criminals go awry when one of the guinea pigs, called Barker, goes on a rampage at the Institute then escapes into the sewers. Transformed into an albino like creature with red eyes and pale skin, Barker sets about abducting other residents of Oakhaven, dragging them into the sewers and passing on his condition, thus creating an army of albino mutants. Hip, local radio sensation Paula Scott attempts to lift the lid on the story, only to come up against a cover up that reaches high up in the government.

The official line about the book is that its a novel by Robert Knight 'based on a screenplay by Jo Gannon', although the book's cover would give the false impression that Gannon rather than Knight was the author. Over the years however, a more complex picture of this book's authorship has emerged. In the early 1990s, David McGillivray, best known for writing movies for Pete Walker and Norman J Warren, revealed that he had a hand in writing the Plasmid screenplay, and cited it as the one screenplay of his that he wished had been filmed. McGillivray also told me that the Plasmid book sticks pretty close to his screenplay, indicating that Robert Knight's contributions to the novel were fairly minimal. I remember mentioning this to a close associate of Long, who flat out refused to believe that Long and McGillivray had ever worked together, due to the fact that Long apparently did not hold McGillivray in high regard. When word got back to Long that McGillivray's claims to have been involved in Plasmid was public knowledge, well... the shit done hit the fan. Within 48 hours, Plasmid had been removed from McGillivray's writing credits on Wikipedia, while Long's own Wiki page changed 'Long was due to film a David McGillivray script entitled Plasmid' to 'Long was due to film a Jo Gannon script entitled Plasmid'. Long's autobiography also erased McGillivray from the history of Plasmid, and attributes the screenplay entirely to Gannon, who had been the editor of Long's 'Adventures of...' movies. A second draft of the Plasmid script, credited to Gannon, still exists in the archives of The University of Liverpool. This is due to the fact that Long's first choice for turning the screenplay into a book was none other than Ramsey Campbell, who was sent a copy of the script but ultimately turned down the assignment, and the script ended up with the University of Liverpool as part of its Ramsey Campbell archive. Personally, I'm inclined to believe that the screenplay originated with Gannon but at some point McGillivray was brought on board. I tend to buy into the McGillivray version of events, on account of there being no glory to be had in claiming to have written Plasmid, we're not exactly talking Easy Rider here, the film was never even made and the book was never a big hit. Plasmid is also such an obscure project that surely only someone who had a hand in it would even know about it.
The problem with trying to decipher where Jo Gannon ends and David McGillivray begins when it comes to the writing here, is that while I'm reasonably au fait with McGillivray's work, I'm allot less so with Gannon, whose writing career has mainly been played out on American Television. Still, Gannon has clearly led a full and interesting life, which has included running light shows for Pink Floyd, working as a BBC editor, his time with Stanley Long and a ten year stint as an ambulance crew chief. Gannon also directed the 1970 documentary 'Getting It Straight in Notting Hill Gate' a look at the counterculture scene in the pre-gentrified, pre-Richard Curtis Notting Hill area.

The more you read Plasmid, the more you feel like it's material that would have been better suited to Pete Walker than Stanley Long. Admittedly it's sci-fi elements would have been a little outside of Walker's usual remit, Walker's horror films exclusively dealing with mentally disturbed individuals rather than monsters or the supernatural. However in all other respects Plasmid does feel very Walker-esque in it's cynical, distrust of authority figures as well as it's gender roles. Paula Scott being a plucky young lady who isn't afraid to get in the faces of older, establishment figures. While her boyfriend is your typical Walker ineffectual wet lettuce male character who "was too weak, too retiring to provide her with the kind of emotional feedback which she needed from a man". The fact that there are comparisons between Plasmid and the Walker horror films, does of course add weight to the belief that the Plasmid script did at one point come under to what Time Out magazine once referred to as "the withered pen of David McGillivray".

Long was no fan of the horror genre, but was aware of its commercial appeal. His distribution company, Alpha Films, having released many horror movie hits like Alligator, Rabid, The Brood, Dawn of the Dead and Basket Case. In book form, Plasmid comes across as Long's attempt to muscle in on the Cronenberg movies that Long had been releasing, especially Rabid, and cut out the middle man by making a Cronenberg type movie of his own.
The short horror films that Long made during this period...Do You Believe In Fairies, Dreamhouse and That's The Way To Do It...(later compiled into the anthology movie 'Screamtime'), suggest Long might have had a decent horror movie in him, despite his lack of affection for the genre. What I've always found notable about the 'Screamtime' shorts is how divorced they are from the sex comedies Long been making during most of the previous decade. Not only are they an asexual bunch of short films, but any humour there is of the unintentional variety, demonstrating that Long was able to shed his sex comedy skin with relative ease. Judging by the book, Plasmid wouldn't have been quite as divorced from the sex and comedy elements as those. The book pokes fun at the music biz at the time with a cameo appearance from a Sid Vicious type punk singer called Big Willy, whose latest single 'Pull It' has gotten banned by the BBC. While the radio station that the heroine works for fills the airways with the likes of Phone Me by Hot Box, Backseat Love, and tracks from the album 'You Make Me Feel So Jung' by Dr. Freud & The Analysts. Someone involved in the writing of the screenplay turned book, for they are many, also appears to have had a thing for corporal punishment. The elderly commissionaire who works at the radio station gets all flustered after being offered sexual favours by Big Willy's female fans in return for access to their hero, leading him to think that 'someone ought to introduce a bill to make spanking compulsory'. While even heroine Paula harbours flagellation fantasies about her male boss, telling a colleague "I think he's going to play headmaster to my naughty pupil" who then replies "tell him he can cane you, if you can spank him afterwards".

If McGillivray's account is correct, the film was two weeks away from being shot before the plug was pulled, so I assume Long had a cast in place, and it would be fascinating to know just who he had in mind for these characters. There's a comic relief 'stout lady cleaner' who works at the Institute and is desperate to get a look at the bloody results of the creature's rampage "come on, dear, let's have a peep" who cried out to have been played by Rita Webb. While a luckless, aging prostitute, who decides to knock off for the night 'and go to bed with a hot-water bottle instead of her usual sweaty, panting male' only to fall victim to the mutant albino has Liz Fraser written all over her. We can, of course though, only speculate. After all the Screamtime shorts avoided any kind of British sex comedy related casting, so it's possible that with Plasmid too, Long might have gone with people who didn't draw attention to Long's background in sexploitation.

It's not a bad book, but does betray it's movie script origins at times, with lots of basic descriptions of characters and their actions. Presumably a failing of Knight to flesh out the screenplay into book form. The 'Liz Fraser' character for instance, isn't even described or given a name, and we learn nothing about her other than she is a prostitute and owns a hot water bottle. All of which would have been fine for a movie script, where we'd see this person depicted on film and they'd only be around for a brief, shock scene, but in book form just comes across as a writer not pulling his weight. It's only way into the book that it bothers to pull that trick, so beloved by authors like James Herbert and Guy N Smith of providing elaborate backstories for newly introduced characters in the hope of duping the reader into thinking they need to be emotionally investing in these new faces...only to then have them fall victim to a horrible fate. Knight is said to have been a pen name of Christopher Evans, an author and scientific consultant to the TV programme The Tomorrow People, who died of cancer in October 1979. Meaning that this would have pretty much been a deathbed assignment, so his lack of enthusiasm for writing it is therefore understandable. Since Plasmid was originally written as a movie that needed to be passed by the British censor, it's also a little restrained in the sex and violence departments. Especially compared to what the likes of Herbert, Smith and Shaun Hutson were getting up to at roughly the same time, whose work was never shackled by such considerations. Gore wise, Plasmid blows its load early on, with detailed descriptions of Barker's rampage at the Institute "both his eyes had been gouged out, and the flesh had been shredded from his cheeks. The hypodermic jutted from the jugular vein in his neck, and his right leg was missing". Thereafter though its a relatively bloodless affair, with Barker's next victim succumbing to a heart attack, and others being dragged into the sewers. Only towards the end does it deliver any potentially censor troubling moments, such a car accident resulting in a metal pole going 'straight through the woman's mouth and out of the back of her head...removing forever her need for dental treatment'. Given the tone of the book, and Long's distaste for graphic violence in movies, I tend to think the Plasmid movie would have gone stronger on jump scares and offscreen kills than over the top blood and guts action. Something that would have put it at odds with the Fangoria mentality of the horror genre of the time, or indeed the horror films that were earning Long the big money as a distributor. In his autobiography, Long insinuates that the popular 2004 British horror film 'Creep' ripped off plot elements from Plasmid. I'd also throw in the 1984 American horror movie C.H.U.D as another film with a Plasmid type plot that offers an idea of what the book would have looked like onscreen. However, given that Plasmid was never published in America, and was long forgotten and over twenty years old by the time of Creep, I'd wager that the makers of both movies have probably never crossed paths with the book.

Had the movie been made, I tend to think it's reputation would have been similar to that of Screamtime. Never likely to be held up as an all time classic of the horror genre, but a source of some amusement and nostalgia to the VHS era generation. Strangely one of the reasons Long cited for abandoning the movie was the impracticality of filming in the London sewers, yet barely any of the novel actually takes place down in the sewers, and the few scenes that do are hardly crucial to the plot and could have been easily filmed around.

While it never made the grade as a movie though, Plasmid must walk away with the prize for the most British line you'll ever read in a 1980s pulp horror novel "Old Max served a generous bacon sandwich and brewed a good strong cup of tea, but the bugger was too mean to install a decent bog". To whoever wrote that line, I salute you.

Passion Killers (2007, Linda Regan)

I wasn't sure what to expect from a book by an actress best remembered for appearing in Hi-De-Hi, but I sure wasn't expecting it to read like something Shaun Hutson would write. Passion Killers shares the same fixation for the seedy side of 1980s Soho that you get from Hutson books like Chainsaw Terror and Captives. It concerns a bunch of strippers who fight back against their boss, stripclub owner Ahmed Abdullah, after discovering he's been filming himself having sex with them. Robbery turns to murder, when the strippers tie up Ahmed while trying to steal the sex tapes, only for him to choke to death on the G-string they gagged him with. 19 years later and the former strippers are not only being blackmailed by the current owner of the sex tapes, but are also being stalked by a killer who appears to be avenging Ahmed's death by leaving his victims with a G-string in their mouths. On the case is DCI Paul Banham, a man haunted by the brutal murder of his wife and daughter, to the extent that it has left him incapable of having sex 'the prospect of his colleagues knowing about his inadequacy in that department didn’t bear thinking about' and with an aversion to the sight of murdered females. A hang up that results in a memorable scene when Banham vomits all over a Soho sex shop, throwing up 'over the window displaying the crotchless knickers and fruit-flavoured condoms'. Fortunately Regan's writing throws him a romantic lifeline in the form of Katie Faye, one of the blackmailed former strippers who has since reinvented herself as a popular actress in a medical themed TV show, and views the sex tape as a stink bomb that could damage a mainstream career. Katie is a character who possibly warrants some autobiographical interpretation, Regan herself having appeared in the medical themed TV show General Hospital but prior to that had done her time in saucy, X-cert movies by the likes of Derek Ford and Norman Cohen. According to her Wikipedia page she was also the victim of an attempted abduction at knifepoint in 2005, an incident that is disturbingly replicated in Passion Killers. Further insights into Regan within these pages include a possible dislike of Cannon and Ball, the subject of a dig here, and we can safely assume she's more of a dog person than a cat one. The killer gets to chop a cat's head off at one point 'slicing the terrified animal’s head from its body and batting it though the air like a cricket ball'. While in her author's intro, Regan mentions that she and her actor husband Brian Murphy own a dog called Mildred, presumably named in honour of Murphy's sitcom George and Mildred, which is adorable. Well much more adorable than a cat's severed head being used like a cricket ball anyway.

Passion Killers certainly sees Regan cast off her goody two shoes Hi-De-Hi image, and go strong on the gore "Blood from the wounds in her head had slid down her forehead, congealing around a colony of maggots over the holes that once were eyes" and some of her more inspired dialogue includes "I thought it was quite funny, till he stuck a rubber penis up my back passage and called me Dusty Springfield". The book has the feel of a police drama series but spiced up with jolting, brutal murders commited by a black gloved killer, like an episode of The Bill with directorial interference from Dario Argento. There's maybe too much focus on the love lives of various police characters and too little giallo action towards the end of the book. Still I have to admit to enjoying Regan's unlikely career reinvention, and the discovery that she's written a bunch of these things, means that I'm sure to return to the unexpected rabbit hole that is Linda Regan, gorehound crime novelist.

Halloween Special: Stripped Bare For The Mummy Monster (1989)

 

For our Halloween special, meself, Clive and Nick discuss ‘Stripped Bare For the Mummy Monster’ the unpublished 1989 horror novel by Lucille Simmons book featuring death by lawnmower, chainsaw dismemberment, lesbian incest and a rampaging Egyptian mummy.  You can also read the book yourself at archive.org

Keep It Up Jack (1974)

They say nothing signifies the end of an era quite like nostalgia for its beginning, something that's certainly true of Keep It Up Jack, a British sex comedy that harkens back to the days of the music hall, while sadly acknowledging its demise. It's hero, Jack James (Mark Jones) being a quick change artist whose dated act is dying a death in front of a bored audience of old women and young kids. "Let the act rest, its dead any road, a long time ago, it's the end of an era, Jack" his gruff, Northern boss tells him. By the 1970s the British music hall had largely bitten the dust, but it's memory clearly lived on in the target audience of Keep It Up Jack. In that sense the film is a part of a cultural mourning for the music hall era that was also reflected in the BBC's The Good Old Days programme, or low budget documentaries about music hall history that were doing the rounds on the lower half of double bills like A Little of What You Fancy (1968) and Top of the Bill (1971) by Arnold Louis Miller. 

Derek Ford, the director of Keep It Up Jack is an unexpected figure to have been bitten by the music hall nostalgia bug. Ford not having come from a theatrical background and being middle class, the music hall being a predominantly working class phenomenon. Therefore I wonder if the idea for the film didn't emanate more from Ford's co-writer Alan Selwyn, who unlike Ford was both working class and had a direct connection to showbiz. Selwyn's father Solomon Salzedo having been a comedy performer at the Windmill Theatre during the 1940s, under the anglicised name of Sidney Brandon. As well as co-writer of Keep It Up Jack, Selwyn also served as a bit part actor in the movie, an associate producer and procurer of female talent. The Ford/Selwyn script offers Jack a lucky break when an Aunt of his dies in a car crash leaving him her expensive home...in reality Ford's own home 'Beeleigh Falls House' in Maldon, Essex. To Jack's horror, he also discovers that his Auntie was a famous madam and that he's inherited a fully functional brothel. For reasons that Ford and Selwyn's script never satisfactorily explains, Jack decides to continue running the brothel and begins cross dressing as his Auntie. Initially his motivation for this seems to be out of sympathy and possible attraction to Virginia (Sue Longhurst), a lesbian prostitute who has shown up at the house expecting employment, and who gives Jack the cold shoulder until he starts masquerading as an older woman with a strap on. All of which makes it seem like Keep It Up Jack is going in the direction of being unorthodox rom-com about a guy trying to woo a lesbian by masquerading as a woman himself. 

However the film doesn't really pan out like that, and if anything Virginia becomes something of the villain of the piece, when ambition causes her to try and make a power grab for the business. One which also sees her employ more prostitutes, each of whom bring their own distinct mojo to Chez Auntie. Caroline (Jenny Westbrook) is the dominatrix of the bunch, Gloria (Linda Regan) is the one with the baby fetish, while Francine, played by Veronica Peters is a woman of Russ Meyer proportions, or as Peters' IMDB page puts it 'trademark: large breasts'. Based on her role in Keep It Up Jack, Peters doesn't seem to have been that bad an actress, but when it came to ebony beauties in British sexploitation, appears to have been sidelined in favour of Minah Bird and Lucienne Camille. The remainder of Peters' acting career consisting of bit parts in Sexplorer, Eskimo Nell and the Harrison Marks short Tailor Maid.

Since romance with Virginia is off the cards, Jack's reasons for passing himself off as his Auntie seem obscure at best. Apart from being a way of getting some laughs out of seeing a man in drag. I wonder if Keep It Up Jack might seem like a more sexually subversive film in the eyes of an American audience, who would be unaware of the long standing mainstream tradition of drag humour in British culture, whereas in America, drag is more synonymous with the gay liberation movement of the 1960s. One culture's idea of a sexually revolutionary act is another culture's source of belly laughs for all the family. I remember an American woman, who used to be on Twitter/X, writing a review of Tiffany Jones (1973) and praising a scene- where a male character is forced to drag up only to then get hit on by confused straight men- as being wonderfully progressive for its time and evidence that it's director Pete Walker was an early trans ally. A theory that doesn't hold up to much scrutiny, if you've ever read an interview Walker, you'll know he is a very conservative minded person. Jack James himself is also a man on a morals kick, and once the brothel gets swinging again becomes all uptight and disgusted by the Essex bacchanal he himself has created. Jack then sees it as his mission to rescue Fleur (Maggi Burton), a young naive prostitute, from those who would seek to exploit her. Essentially Fleur becomes the Iris to Jack's Travis Bickle, but instead of shaving his head into a mohawk and shooting up Beeleigh Falls with bullets, Jack instead infiltrates his own brothel by posing as a host of foreign stereotypes including an Arab and a Japanese man. An idea that I suspect might have come from Alan Selwyn, since there's a similar phoney Arab scene in Selwyn's movie Secrets of a Superstud, with Selwyn himself donning the boot polish on that occasion.

This is my first time viewing of the hardcore version of Keep It Up Jack, and while the hardcore is very brief compared to what Ford got up to in Diversions, it is jarring to see scenes of people having real sex in such close proximity to scenes involving well known, respectable comedy actors like Frank Thornton, Queenie Watts and Paul Whitsun-Jones. The latter making his final film appearance here before his premature death in early 1974, meaning that Ford would have shot Keep It Up Jack at some point in 1973. Until the hardcore version was rediscovered, the general consensus about the additional footage, quoted on the IMDb and Wikipedia was that "the film also exists in a version with hardcore inserts, but there is no suggestion that any of the credited cast participated in it." This hasn't turned out to be entirely true. While none of the name cast partisapate in real sex here, they are not entirely excluded from material that is unique to the stronger version. A scene where Jenny Westbrook and Veronica Peters' characters seduce Fleur into a lesbian threesome is much more explicit in this version, culminating in all three women masturbating themselves with champagne bottles. It's not hardcore per se, but its only a few shades away from it. There's also a startling scene, only included in the stronger version, involving Linda Regan's character decorating Jack's hard-on with whipped cream and a cherry on top, before chowing down. A scene achieved with an obvious prosthetic penis, presumably due to Regan and Mark Jones' unwillingness to do hardcore. Again, at risk of sounding like a Derek Ford apologist, I suspect this was another script idea from Alan Selwyn, since there is a near identical scene of food fellatio in Secrets of a Superstud. One wonders what Regan, who went on to have a career in mainstream British comedy like Hi-De-Hi, and has more recently reinvented herself as a crime novelist, must make of this unearthed footage. As she recently appeared to be a little flustered by her appearance in Carry on England being mentioned on Twitter/X, it'll take a braver man than me to bring up the subject of Keep It Up Jack with her.

The actual hardcore footage involves no name specialty actresses being put through their paces by the game-for-anything actor Tony Kenyon, whose mustache twirling antics once again recalls his stag movie forefathers. These scenes illustrate Ford's strong inclinations towards S&M, with bondage and sadism taking president over regular sex. Ford had attempted to get a film version of 'The Story of O' off the ground in the late sixties, and these sequences give an idea of what we'd have been in for, had fortune favoured Ford over Just Jaeckin. As well as offering flashes of the serious, erotic filmmaker that Ford could have been, had he not been so shackled to the comedic demands of British sexploitation.

Funnily enough, I can never think of Keep It Up Jack without also thinking of the actor David Warbeck, even though Warbeck isn't actually in the film. This being due to two, of many, stories I've heard about the Wild, Wild World of David Warbeck over the years. During the 1990s, when Warbeck was doing horror movie conventions, he would frequently shock fans by claiming that he was breaking his curfew by attending these shows and that he'd recently been put under house arrest for running a brothel. This, I'm assured was actually a wind up on Warbeck's behalf and an example of his mischievous sense of humour. Another genuine, Warbeck story though, dates from his time in Italy making westerns and thrillers there, where he would always cause the crews to crack up by turning up on the first day of shooting in full drag... breaking with his macho screen image. So, I can't help thinking he would have been more suited to playing a cross dressing, brothel owner in Keep It Up Jack than a horny jewel thief in The Sex Thief, Warbeck's only actual foray into British sexploitation. Not that there's anything wrong with Mark Jones here, Jones was a very versatile actor who brought a bit of class to British sex comedies and Don't Open Till Christmas, another fine mess that Derek Ford got him into, and apparently a huge source of embarrassment for the actor. Jones goes beyond the call of duty in Keep It Up Jack, shaving his chest, concealing his dick between his legs and donning a female wig on top of his regular male wig. Jones seems to have had a Sean Connery attitude to toupee wearing in movies, willing to slap one on if the role required it, but equally happy to play roles without a wig and made no secret of being bald in real life. Incidentally if you want to put a face to our master of ceremonies, Derek Ford himself shows up right at the end of the movie playing, of all things, a vicar. In fairness, Father Derek of the Maldon Essex Parish, is slightly more credible as a man of the cloth than Mark Jones is as a Japanese chappie.

 

Blood-Sex (1985, Charles Necrorian)

 

When people tell you that you can't judge a book by it's cover, they sure weren't thinking of this book. Blood-Sex was the 5th in the 'Gore' series of books published in France by the Fleuve Noir imprint from 1985 to 1989. Distinguished by some of the most revoltingly eye catching covers you're ever likely to see, the series began with a severely abridged version of John Russo's Night of the Living Dead novelisation. Subsequent entries in the series included Herschell Gordon Lewis' novelisations of Color Me Blood Red, Blood Feast and 2000 Maniacs, as well as French editions of books by Shaun Hutson, Guy N. Smith and John Halkin. Flying the flag for France were authors like Christian Vila and Charles Necrorian, whose contributions to the series don't ever appear to have been published outside of France. Presumably because places like the UK and American had enough of their own trashy horror paperbacks to contend with. None of these books have to my knowledge ever been officially translated into English, but I've been fortunate enough to read a few of them recently, with the help of a website that converts foreign language PDFs into English. 

'Nightmare on Staten Island' (1986) is a likeable, unpretentious slice of 1980s pulp horror about an ex-cop trying to alert the authorities to the existence of cannibalistic fishmen on the shores of Staten Island. 'Wild Camping' (1989) sees Hells Angels rise from their graves, 15 years after being massacred by vigilante locals. 'Blood-Sex' though really gives the likes of Hutson and Guy N. Smith a run for their money when it comes to extreme content, and manages to pull off the monumental achievement of actually living up to its title. Delivering two twisted stories for the price of one, Blood-Sex combines elements of The Texas Chainsaw Massacre and Russ Meyer's Up, whilst anticipating American Psycho by a number of years. The first storyline concerns the aptly named Stephen Murderren, a spoilt, sociopathic, trust fund heir who is putting the finishing touches to a horror novel called Blood-Sex. In order to get the creative juices flowing, Stephen has to also get the blood of others flowing as well. Teaming up with his lover/sister Vanessa ('only she could understand him, help him in his long quest. Other women were nothing but smelly genitals') the duo sadistically kill everyone from a black streetwalker to a nervous rich kid who wants to swing with Vanessa and Stephen...and pays dearly for it. The second storyline, is in fact the story that Stephen is attempting to write, and finds two redneck brothers abducting women and chopping up their menfolk with meat cleavers. Sam is the smarter, mustachioed of the two. Willie is the Leatherface of the duo, with an unfortunate penchant for letting his dick hang out of his pants. As a child, Willie was accidentally shot in the head with a pellet gun, causing him constant headaches, which his mother attempted to relieve by jerking him off on a regular basis...it didn't help much. The influence of Russ Meyer appears in the form of the square jawed sheriff, who when not trying to solve the murders that the brothers are committing, has a hard-on for the big titted waitress who works in the local redneck bar. The waitress tips the Sheriff off about the two brothers "The eldest has a hick mustache, hick clothes, a hick dick... The other one, the nutcase, he makes me uncomfortable sometimes. When he's here, he's always playing with his dick and I don't know a single girl who would go and polish it for him, even for money, assuming he had any". Only for the Sheriff to then effectively tell her that such behavior is all her own fault, since her body excites men too much.

Blood-Sex, and in fact the entire 'Gore' series, illustrates the influence that US grindhouse cinema had on France, leading to the likes of Meyer and H.G. Lewis being recognized as auteurs there. As well as French cinema catching the splatter movie bug in the form of Devil Story, Mad Mutilator and Revenge of the Living Dead Girls. What's surprising about the 'Gore' books that I've read so far is that they sidestep the chance to put a French perspective on the horror/exploitation genre and instead have an American obsession going on. Blood-Sex's characters are an outlandish collection of amplified American stereotypes...the Stetson wearing sheriff, the horny hitchhikers, the beer guzzling truckers, the Chicano hating old timer, the do-gooding female journalist who ends up renouncing her liberal ways. Everyone lives on a diet of hamburgers, but given the nature of the book, usually ends up vomiting them up at the sight of mangled corpses. The jury is still out on whether all the Americana in these books is a case of the French paying homage to their influences, or the French not wanting to take a shit on their own doorstep. I can't help but recall Bill Landis, who became quite anti-French towards the end of his life...seemingly due to the fact that a couple of Joel M. Reed movies had been released on DVD there...and his accusation that France was 'a nation obsessed with anything making America look ridiculous from Jerry Lewis to Blood Feast'.

Author Charles Necrorian, real name Rene-Charles Rey, also devised the gore scenes for the Jess Franco film 'Faceless'. Judging by what he was getting up to in print, his contributions to the Franco film were a model of restraint. In one revolting scene, one of the captured girls goes along with the two brothers' insistence that she help them make a handbag for their mother as a birthday present, until she realizes that they require her to provide the raw materials to make the handbag. In the other storyline, Stephen opens a man's chest up, plays about with the entrails, before thoughtfully tossing the man's liver at Vanessa, which practically causes her to have an orgasm.

Overall I'd say that the 'story within a story' is the more entertaining of the two parallel storylines, and in a wise move is the one that rightfully dominates the book. The antics of the dimwitted brothers providing some much needed comic relief, given the morbid and nihilistic tone of the Murderren storyline. Needless to say, strong stomachs are required for Blood-Sex. It's a worthy French entry into the bad taste Olympics, that leaves other extreme horror novels looking like nothing but 'smelly genitals' in comparison.

Dracutwig (1969, Bernhardt J. Hurwood)

 

The quest to read Dracutwig has been something of a personal cause of mine for the last few years. The allure of an eccentric sounding, swinging sixties relic -in which Dracula's daughter embarks on a Twiggy like modeling career- calling out to me from the groovy past. At the same time I was never under the illusion that Dracutwig would be a good book in the traditional sense...which is just as well.

Dracutwig began life as a screenplay, allegedly penned by the writer of several Broadway musicals, but when plans for the movie fell by the wayside, the script was retooled and Dracutwig rose from the grave in book form. The book version is credited to Mallory T. Knight, a pen name for Bernhardt J. Hurwood, whose bibliography includes horror fiction, sexy paperbacks and nonfiction occult titles, possibly explaining the uneven qualities of Dracutwig. Hurwood would also go on to the write novelisations of 'Kingdom of the Spiders' and the Linda Blair TV movie 'Born Innocent'.

Dracutwig is initially set in 1950 where Count Dracula has aligned himself with the communist party, who provide him with a regular supply of political undesirables to drink blood from. In return Dracula leaves the local Transylvanian peasants alone, who make their money by shipping their virgin daughters off to the big city to work as prostitutes. Everything is hunky dory until local nympho Charmaine Skakowski, whose 'monumental breasts bounced with every step she took' forces herself on Count Dracula 'instead of blood, Dracula now thought only of the exquisite sensations raging through his long dead body'. After Charmaine becomes pregnant, the disgruntled villagers force their way into Castle Dracula, assaulting Dracula's club footed majordomo Klaus, whose entire purpose in the book seems to be to get kicked in the ass or in the balls. Dracula is forced into a shotgun marriage and the result of his and Charmaine's union is a daughter... Dracutwig, or 'Draculine' as she is actually called in the book. Upon her 18th birthday, young Draculine is dispatched to London to get the best education that money can buy, with all the culture clash, fish out of water comedy you'd expect. Draculine gatecrashes a funeral, and having been raised among the undead, causes an outcry when she tries to help the corpse out of the coffin. While at a fashion show being held at a trendy nightclub called 'The Well Dressed Nude', Draculine accidentally ends up on the catwalk, causing fashion model Petruska to vengefully tear off Draculine's clothes. This results in onlookers getting horny and embarking on a mass orgy. 'For poor Draculine, who pressed herself in agony against the platform where it all had begun, the spectacle seemed like a wild battle scene, but where semen was spewing instead of blood. But she knew one thing for sure as she deliberately kicked a would-be rapist in the groin: Transylvania never offered anything like it!'.

Draculine also becomes an instant fashion sensation due to her pale skin and undead appearance. At which point the book could almost lay claim to have anticipated Goth culture with the masses copying Draculine's look, a fashion trend dubbed 'new morbidity' within these pages. The fact that Dracutwig is essentially a romantic comedy doesn't prevent Draculine from occasionally wandering away from the in-crowd to murder a more diverse section of Londoners. Her victims including a randy priest, an old drunk she meets in Soho, a cross dresser and a stoned hippy. Drinking the contaminated blood of the latter causes Draculine to have an LSD trip in Trafalgar Square 'nothing seemed more natural than for Lord Nelson's statue to slowly turn around on it's sparkling pedestal, unbutton it's fly and begin to urinate in a fantastical iridescent rainbow'. The initial Transylvanian section of the book invites comparisons with The Fearless Vampire Killers, but once we hop over to London, the 'not quite as hip as it thinks it is' sensibility and level of humour is more in the territory of the David Niven 'Vampira', or Son of Dracula (the Harry Nilsson one). Draculine falls for a dandy photographer called Harry Brockton, who is a severe hemophiliac. His confession "I'm a hemo" causes a confused Draculine to question his sexuality "you mean you're like your agent, no that can't be".

As Dracutwig was written by a lifelong New Yorker, the book's version of Swinging London is the type that probably never really existed outside of German Krimi movies. The geography of Dracutwig entirely consisting of well known tourist spots... Belgravia, Trafalgar Square, Soho, and where the sound of Big Ben is never too far away. The book is also fond of absurdly double-barreled English names, we get Sarah Fardley-Butticks, Lady Dorcas-Brockton and Ms. Ponsonby-Smithe's School for Young Ladies.

If you're expecting a wacky, campy romp, then your expectations are only going to be partly met here. Dracutwig gets surprisingly sour and cynical at the halfway point, as Draculine's beau Harry Brockton, cheats on her, exploits her for fame and money and has a disturbingly over affectionate relationship with his mother, the aforementioned Lady Dorcas-Brockton. The book then gets hit with the silly stick again, as Dorcas-Brockton keeps dressing up as a Nun in order to kill Draculine, only to then tonally switch back for an incredibly downbeat ending. Even more so, given that...without trying to give too much away.. it's the kind of ending that makes you think that they'll be some kind of last minute, get out cause that will lead to a happy conclusion, only for the book to instead double down on the darkness.

I suspect that average person will find this book to be an unfinishable, insult to the intelligence. However if, like me, you're a sucker for any ol' Swinging London nonsense, then a date with Miss Dracutwig is difficult to turn down...even if she is difficult to get a hold of these days. As far as I'm aware the book was only ever available in America and Germany, where it was published in 1971 as Dracula's Tochter/Dracula's Daughter. Such was my desperation to read the book that I downloaded a German language ebook of it from a dodgy website, had that converted to a PDF using another dodgy website, then used a further dodgy website to translate the German PDF into English. Meaning that the version I read was an English translation of a German translation of a book that was originally in English. The German edition also includes a dissertation on vampires the gives the main text a run for it's money when it comes to strangeness, and concludes with what inadvertently doubles as a fitting epitaph for Dracutwig 'a completely senseless undertaking, but they didn't know any better'.