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On the wings of beatnik angels, Phillipa Fallon and Vampira: B-movie beatitudes
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Beatnik chicks rule. Phillipa Fallon and Vampira move imaginary furniture in the coffeehouses of our minds.

The words to ‘High School Drag’ (the poem in the HSC clip) were written by B-movie screenwriter Mel Welles who seemed to have the right credentials for writing bop prose, “I was an expert on grass in my day…”  Welles also wrote hep talk for hipster royalty Lord Buckley.

Swing with a gassy chick.
Turn on to a thousand joys.
Smile on what happened, or check what’s going to happen,
You’ll miss what’s happening.
Turn your eyes inside and dig the vacuum.

Vampira went on to have a full-blown TV and film career, but what happened to the exquisite of Phillipa Fallon? She only made two films after High School Confidential, which is hard to believe considering the indelible impression she makes in that brief moment when the planets aligned and beatific angels kissed the foreheads of teenyboppers everywhere as Phillipa laid the beatnik gospel upon us. Ms. Fallon should have been a mega-star.

Check out the rat Vampira is cuddling while she versifies.

 
High School Drag

My old man was a bread stasher all his life.
He never got fat. He wound up with a used car,
a 17 inch screen and arthritis.

Tomorrow is a drag, man.
Tomorrow is a king sized bust.

They cried ‘put down pot,’ ‘don’t think a lot,’ for what?
Time, how much? And what to do with it.

Sleep, man, and you might wake up digging the whole
human race giving itself three days to get out.

Tomorrow is a drag, pops, the future is a flake.

I had a canary who couldn’t sing.
I had a cat who let me share my pad with her.
I bought a dog that killed the cat who ate the canary.
What is truth?

I had an uncle with an ivy league card.
He had a life with a belt in the back.
He had a button-down brain.
Wind up a belt in the mouth with a button-down lip.

We cough blood on this earth.
Now there’s a race for space.
We can cough blood on the moon soon.

Tomorrow’s dragsville, cats.
Tomorrow is a king size drag.

Tool a fast shore, swing with a gassy chick.
Turn on to a thousand joys.
Smile on what happened, or check what’s going to happen,
You’ll miss what’s happening.
Turn your eyes inside and dig the vacuum.


1964 episode of Petticoat Junction with Dennis Hopper playing a beatnik.
 

 

Posted by Marc Campbell

 

 

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