If any document presents cunning carny aesthetic terrorist Boyd Rice in a rare moment of relief from metaphysical hemorrhoids, it is his own personal VHS mix-tape The Many Moods of Boyd Rice (2002); a home-video compilation originally only released amongst the proudly untrained artist’s friends, but eventually saw an official release by Predatory Instinct Productions; a precursor to Reverend Kevin I. Slaughter's Underworld Amusements. Indeed, The Many Moods of Boyd Rice might as well be called Boyd Gone Wild as the grainy vhs tape features the NON-man at the height of drunken Dionysian ecstasy; whether he is acting the dipsomaniac with Douglas P. (Death in June) and Albin Julius (Der Blutharsch) in Europa or obsessively spinning obscure thrift shop records for semi-interested bar patrons. With his epic low-budget documentary Iconoclast (2010), documentarian auteur Larry Wessel attempted to unravel the many hats and masks of Mr. Boyd, yet the deranged dilettante noise musician does an especially swell job exposing his most humble self in The Many Moods of Boyd Rice. To say that some of the scenes featured in the compilation are redundant (like a sizable fraction of Rice’s musick) would be more than a little fair (like the nude succubi fans featured cowering amongst the seemingly menacing man during a photo shoot), but like all of his albums, The Many Moods of Boyd Rice has its various special moments of charismatic brilliance. Thankfully, Mr. Rice also chose to include some of his favorite scenes from Richard Wolstencroft’s Pearls Before Swine (1999); a quasi-fascistic low-budget libertine action flick starring wolfsangel-obssesed artist in his most contrived and unconvincing role. In fact, Rice felt a scene of himself being flogged in the ass by a bloated and bald middle-age man in a cheap suit would make for a most captivating introduction to The Many Moods of Boyd Rice. Naturally, the compilation also features Boyd in full Satanic priest regalia on the exceptionally trashy talk show Christina discussing the merits and myths of the Church of Satan. If anything stays consistent throughout the virtual video timeline that is The Many Moods of Boyd Rice, it is Rice’s chameleon-like knack for juggling many subversive and seemingly unrelated roles; an instinctive lifelong talent he explains most proudly and candidly in the RE/Search Publications video Pranks TV! (1988). If Mr. Rice has another talent that even begins to rival his ability to fit in a variety of eclectic masks, it is his scorched earth policy of burning bridges with former friends, artistic co-collaborators and girlfriends that would put Uncle Adolf to shame, hence the many missing central players from his personal story in The Many Moods of Boyd Rice and Wessel’s Iconoclast.
As someone who grew creating and watching many consumer grade skate videos and horror flicks, it would not be a stretch for me to say that I felt a strange sense of Déjà vu and nostalgia while watching the totally amateurish The Many Moods of Boyd Rice. Additionally, it is quite apparent that Mr. Occult Fascist has a glaring amount of sentimentalism for the footage he compiled in The Many Moods of Boyd Rice, which is indubitably a nice change of pace for a man who ex-friend and fellow Gnostic Charles Manson described as a, "black pimp." If one was unaware of the background behind this personal peep show, one would most likely assume it was an unauthorized collection constructed over many years by a completest noise fan with an unhealthy Boyd Rice addiction, as it presents the Gnostic man-in-black in a manner that somewhat undermines his mostly deathly serious posturing. Out of all of the many moods of Boyd Rice, being piss-faced drunk is obviously the most pleasurable as exhibited in a scene in the VHS compilation where he performs an unrelenting full-frontal striptease with an unidentified female at a bar. If anyone wanted to discredit Rice’s dubious reputation as a unflinching evil neo-nazi of the most despicable kind, they would just need to present The Many Moods of Boyd Rice; a personal video diary that also acts as an unintentional Achilles' heel for his various limp-wristed, left-wing witch-hunter detractors. After his fallout with Mr. Rice after devoting 6 years of his life to directing the documentary Iconoclast – a consciously hip 240 minute epic advertisement for the subversive artist and his long, uneven career – Satanic auteur Larry Wessel described his former pal in a interview as, “A lonely, cold-hearted, pretentious, hypocritical sociopath.” What Wessel said may be true, but The Many Moods of Boyd Rice offers a voyeuristic and barely edited perspective that somewhat contradicts the sentiments of the UNPOP documentarian. Personal drama aside, The Many Moods of Boyd Rice is an often entertaining, but sometimes longwinded fart from Rice’s rusted iron heart.
-Ty E
He should change his first name to "Girld", "Boyd" makes him sound like a faggot.
ReplyDeleteIf you took the time to watch wild Wessel's tremendously long turd-de-fart you would know that Boyd's poppy named him Boyd because he DID NOT WANT HIM TO HAVE A FAG NAME! A man with the name Girld is a cum-guzzling faggot (by definition). For example what if Heather O'Rourke was named Herald O'Rourke. Would you find her little pajama suit as appealing? By your homoerotic logic, a man that wears pink pants and Sheryl Crow tshirts is a rampaging super heterosexual.
ReplyDeleteMan, dat wight boi Hamster gotz him a sweeeet azz. I hav a dreamz u know. lol.
ReplyDeleteI DO wear pink pants and Sheryl Crow T-Shirts specifically because I AM a rampaging super heterosexual and i`d love to shove my knob up Sheryl Crows bum (as the bird was in 1980 when the bird was 18, not as the bird is now obviously). Perhaps you`re starting to understand now, you dont need to be a macho, violent bastard in order to be heterosexual. All you need to do is immerse yourself in femininity, surround yourself with beautiful gorgeous sexy young girls, and then spend 50 ot 60 years doing nothing other than shoving your knob up those gorgeous young girls bums and unloading massive wads of spunk down their lushious young throats. All that macho bull-shit is a curse on our society because it literally breeds pansy queer bastards.
ReplyDeleteI wouldn`t care if Heather was called "Herald" or "tuff" or "geezer" or "atom bomb" or..or..any fucking name because she was the most beautiful girl who ever lived, there-fore the sight of her in her little red pajama suit (or preferably out of it) will always drive me wild with lust and desire. Although i will admit that it does get on my nerves a bit that the first syllable of Pauline Hickey's first name is the word "Paul", i wish she`d been called Debbie instead. But then of course i forget all about that when i think about what it would be like to spend 50 years non-stop sucking her tits (as she was at the age of 17 in 1985 when her tits were arguably the greatest of all-time, and without her aging a day during the 50 year period), when i have that fantasy i completely forget her silly first name.
ReplyDelete