100 Metal Fridays + In My Darkest Hour

My 100th Metal Friday post!

A few observations.

Most featured band: Judas Priest (14 appearances). 

Others with multiple appearances: Iron Maiden (12), Black Sabbath (9), Bruce Dickinson (5), Manowar (5), Manilla Road (4), Blind Guardian (4), Queensryche (4), Metallica (3), Def Leppard (3), Rob Halford (2), Anthrax (2), Slayer (2), Sepultura (2), Eternal Champion (2), Ace Frehley (2), Thin Lizzy (2), Ronnie James Dio (2).

This gives you a pretty good indicator of my metal(ish) tastes. Note that there is a separate “heavy metal” category on the blog for general metal posts that fall on non-Fridays. So what you see above is not all-inclusive or all-indicative of my interests.

Metal Friday typically steers away from bands that are hard rock/borderline metal (AC/DC, Led Zeppelin, etc.) with some exceptions. Or when Gordon Lightfoot died or I felt like talking about 80s KISS.

Not every Metal Friday is a song; sometimes I covered the metal news of the day, concert reviews, etc. With that in mind, here is your Metal Friday 100 post setlist; pretty good listening here IMO.

How has Megadeth not made a Metal Friday? Let’s fix that now with what is probably their best song.

1. Valkyries, Blind Guardian

2. Light Comes Out of Black, Rob Halford

3. Jerusalem, Bruce Dickinson

4. Falling off the Edge of the World, Black Sabbath

5. NM156, Queensryche

6. Hail and Kill, Manowar

7. Welcome Home (Sanitarium), Metallica

8. Beyond the Realms of Death, Judas Priest

9. Raining Blood, Slayer

10. Left Hand Black, Danzig

11. The Evil That Men Do, Iron Maiden

12. The Clairvoyant, Iron Maiden

13. Night Winds, Parasite

14. Queen of the Black Coast, Manilla Road

15. Man of Sorrows, Bruce Dickinson

16. Satsuma covers Ratt's "Lay it Down" and Judas Priest's "Hellion/Electric Eye"

17. Take Hold of the Flame, Live in Tokyo 1984, Queensryche

18. Armageddon Clan, Battle Beast

19. The Hunt, Sepultura

20. Darkest Hour, Iron Maiden

21. Heart of a Lion, Judas Priest

22. Sing a Last Song of Valdese, Eternal Champion

23. Between the Hammer and the Anvil, Judas Priest

24. I, Black Sabbath (with incredible Conan imagery)

25. Judas Priest! … and Gordon Lightfoot?

26. British Steel on the docket tomorrow night

27. Defending 80s KISS (A Million to One)

28. Orgasmatron, Motorhead

29. Nativity in Black (Black Sabbath tribute album)

30. Master of the Wind, Manowar

31. Wild Child, WASP

32. Master of Puppets, Metallica

33. Necropolis, Manilla Road

34. The Crue, Poison, Def Leppard, Joan Jett

35. Emerald, Thin Lizzy

36. Ace Frehley lead guitar! (Fractured Mirror)

37. Blood Tears, Blind Guardian

38. Rockin’ Again, Saxon

39. Headless Cross, Black Sabbath

40. A very metal week: Judas Priest/Queensryche, Iron Maiden (Halls of Valhalla)

41. The Clansman, Iron Maiden

42. Sea of Red, Judas Priest

43. Thunder Road, Judas Priest

44. Flaming Metal Systems, Manilla Road

45. Theater of Salvation, Edguy

46. Bible Black, Black Sabbath

47. Top 5 Manowar Songs

48. Show Don’t Tell, Rush

49. Kill Devil Hill, Bruce Dickinson

50. Let it Go, Def Leppard

51. Beginning of the End, Meliah Rage

52. Stranger in a Strange Land, Iron Maiden

53. En Force, Queensryche

54. Caught in the Middle, Ronnie James Dio

55. Traitor’s Gate, Judas Priest

56. RIP to Canada’s finest singer-songwriter, Gordon Lightfoot

57. Edge of Thorns, Savatage

58. If Heaven is Hell, Tokyo Blade

59. Curse My Name, Blind Guardian

60. As Heavy as I’ll go (Sepultura, Slayer)

61. Worms of the Earth, Eternal Champion

62. Force of a Storm, Sumerlands

63. Orion, Metallica

64. The Battle of Evermore and the timeless nature of fantasy

65. Resurrection, Rob Halford

66. Start the Fire, Metal Church

67. Season of the Witch, Grave Digger

68. Where Eagles Dare, Iron Maiden (for Nicko)

69. Cold Sweat, Thin Lizzy

70. Sign of the Southern Cross, Black Sabbath

71. The Rage, Judas Priest

72. Cauldron Born, Born of the Cauldron

73. Sixteenth Century Greensleeves, Rainbow (RIP Ronnie James Dio)

74. Gods of War, Def Leppard

75. Powerslave, Iron Maiden

76. War Pigs, Judas Priest

77. Goodbye to Romance: Reflections on Black Sabbath, Back to the Beginning, and the end of the road

78. Mystification, Manilla Road

79. Hell on Earth, Iron Maiden

80. Bruce Dickinson at the House of Blues, Boston MA Sept. 11, 2025

81. Atom and Evil, Black Sabbath

82. Strange Ways, Ace Frehley

83. Of Blind Guardian and the Quest for Tanelorn

84. The Sentinel, Judas Priest

85. Stonehenge, Spinal Tap

86. Computer God, Black Sabbath

87. Judas Be My Guide, Iron Maiden

88. Desert Plains, Judas Priest

89. Heavy metal, sword-and-sorcery, the Outsider ... and Iron Maiden's “Drifter”

90. Among the Living, Anthrax

91. Revelations, Judas Priest

92. The Mirrors of Tuzun Thune, Arkham Witch

93. Mountains, Manowar. RIP Ross the Boss

94. Defender, Manowar

95. Darkside of Aquarius, Bruce Dickinson

96. Don’t Break My Heart Again, Whitesnake

97. The Thin Line Between Love and Hate, Iron Maiden

98. Shake Me, Cinderella

99. Medusa, Anthrax

100. In My Darkest Hour, Megadeth

A History of Heavy Metal (Arcane Arts excerpt)

Unfortunate cover blurb.

(Note: The following is the lead item in this week's Arcane Arts. I also cover REH, Jane Yolen, 70s horror, and Mike Grell's Warlord. Sign up to get it delivered free to your inbox)

Metal is vast. Metal is diverse. Metal is sprawling. The number of subgenres is staggering … more than 70, are you kidding? And to be honest, a little stupid. Drone metal. Funeral doom. Djent metal. Some of the finer points make sword-and-sorcery vs. heroic fantasy look like high school debate club.

And so I don’t think it’s possible to write an absolutely definitive history of heavy metal.  And even if you could, who would be interested in such a thing? If you like doom are you likely also a fan of funk metal or Christian metal? 

This past weekend I finished reading an attempt at a comprehensive history, Andrew O’Neill’s A History of Heavy Metal. I’d describe it as breezy, entertaining, fairly well written. But also, quite biased and therefore incomplete. An ostensible history shouldn’t ignore bands that the author does not like. O’Neill hates glam metal, so we get 10 pages of why it sucks … except for maybe Appetite For Destruction. He also has little use for Anthrax and Megadeth (Dave Mustaine’s nasally voice grates on him) so they’re largely ignored too, despite their considerable footprint. 

For what it’s worth I recommend A History of Heavy Metal as a breezy, sometimes entertaining read that filled in a few corners for me. Black and death metal, mainly, and a lot of bands I’ve never heard of.

What he wrote was fine… but it’s not what I want to read. Or write. I’d rather go deep than broad. Curated instead of encyclopedic.

This is a roundabout way of explaining how I ended up writing a heavy metal memoir. We have histories. We’ve got Sound of the Beast and Louder than Hell and O’Neill’s book. We have information: Videos, podcasts, even, a map. We’ve got a million stories of the bands and performers themselves. 

We don’t need another Flame and Crimson for heavy metal.

So, I wrote something quite different. A story from one fan’s perspective—my own. My life, with heavy metal as the backdrop.

My memoir will only focus on the handful of metal genres I like. But I’m not writing a history. So if you’re looking for a treatise on Unblack Metal (a real subgenre, by the way) you’ll need to look elsewhere.

But if you’re looking for one fan’s utterly unique story, maybe you’ll like this. August is getting closer.

"Medusa," Anthrax

I was driving my John Deere around my lawn last weekend... cutting the grass of course, not just driving it around, though just driving around on a John Deere is a perfectly valid activity. I had queued up some old thrash song from the 80s and the Spotify app continued to play like songs from its omniscient algorithm. Which led me to this wonderful little rediscovery. "Medusa," off of 1985's Spreading the Disease. I hadn't heard it years, and had been missing it.

Spreading the Disease is Anthrax's sophomore effort but the first appearance by vocalist Joey Belladonna. He's kind of an odd fit for a thrash band with his traditional metal/high octave/operatic style of singing, but it works with the band--especially on this song. He sounds fantastic. And the main riff is absolutely killer.

Interestingly, executive producer Jon Zazula has songwriting credit for "Medusa," his only such contribution for Anthrax. The lyrics are fun if very much on the nose, not sure how Medusa would stare at you were it not with her eyes, but there you go:

Medusa, she's staring at you
Medusa, with her eyes
Medusa

In addition to the thrill of nostalgia from the song itself, my search for an accompanying visual led to this horrific, fantastically rendered scene from Clash of the Titans (1981).

This sequence genuinely creeped me out as a kid, and I still find it effective today. The unnatural jerkiness of Harryhausen's stop-motion animation only adds to the medusa's horrible otherness. Her eyes are particularly well-done, and I love the addition of the Naga-like tail.

Enjoy life on this Metal Friday.

Smith and the Pharaohs and Other Stories: A Review

Say one thing of H. Rider Haggard: Say he wrote with range.

When we think of Haggard, we typically think of the man who gave us King Solomon’s Mines, She, and Eric Brighteyes. A writer of two-fisted adventure.

So thought I as well, until I read Smith and the Pharaohs and Other Stories. 

This is a “new” collection of 10 short stories assembled by Stark House for their Adventure Classics line. And it opened my eyes to Haggard as a writer of greater breadth and sensitivity than I anticipated.

In the first half of the collection there is nary a saber drawn nor a shot fired. Five stories of interrupted romances, lost loves, or marital strife. Jilted lovers, wounded husbands, grieving widows. And no wonder. Per Wikipedia, Haggard as a young man apparently lost the love of his life:

At about that time, Haggard fell in love with Mary Elizabeth "Lilly" Jackson, whom he intended to marry once he obtained paid employment in Africa. In 1878, he became Registrar of the High Court in the Transvaal, and wrote to his father informing him that he intended to return to England and marry her. His father forbade it until Haggard had made a career for himself, and by 1879 Jackson had married Frank Archer, a well-to-do banker. 

I know very little about Haggard the man (I have an unread biography by Morton N. Cohen sitting on my shelf, another brick in the wall of my groaning TBR) but such an event cannot fail to leave a mark. My guess is these stories have something of the biographical in them. They hit hard. Don’t think the lack of blood and thunder means a lack of drama or tension. We get plenty of that from Haggard even as he reveals a sensitive side to his art.

Putting on my English degree nerd hat for a minute, Haggard (1856-1925) bridged the Victorian and Edwardian eras of English literature but is generally placed within the latter school. We get in his stories something of a fading of empire and critiques of old institutions. Strict religious doctrine cracking in the face of Darwinian evolution, and social critique amid the rise of increasingly independent women.

These stories are rich with the air of the era: quiet stories seasoned with supernatural elements and exotic locations, romance and visions of heaven contrasted with period realism, consumption and death. In “Little Flower” a hard-headed Christian missionary is portrayed as unthinking and obstinate next to an evolutionist, and is ultimately shown up by a Zulu witch-doctor.

In “The Blue Curtains” a woman declares her undying love, but her “faithfulness” proves skin-deep; she turns to other men for surer income and a more comfortable lifestyle.

Haggard could write, which is a big part of the reason why he endures, and so many others who toiled in the pages of Adventure and other popular magazines of the day have faded into history. This sequence of the jilted ex-lover Bottles discovering his old flame is suddenly widowed, and available, after 14 years, and making his way to her home, in the driving rain, swept up in the romance, took my breath away:

“He crossed over to the other side of the street, and looked up at the house, but could scarcely make it out through the driving rain. There was no light in the house, and no sign of life about the street. But there were both light and life in the heart of this watcher. All the pulses of his blood were astir, keeping time with the commotion of his mind. He stood there in the shadow, gazing at the murky house, heedless of the bitter wind and pelting rain, and felt his life and spirit pass out of his control into an unknown dominion. The storm that raged around him was nothing to the convulsion of his inner self in that hour of madness, which was yet happiness.”

In the title story of the volume, “Smith and the Pharaohs,” James Smith falls in love with an image of an ancient Egyptian queen, raises money for an archeological dig in search of her tomb, and discovers her resting place—and much more. Love runs deep, spanning the ages in this ghostly little historical romance.

“Only a Dream” is a powerful little shocker of a story, almost like something Roald Dahl might have written. This time it is a wife, deceased, who … returns to her husband on the eve of his second marriage.

There are literal trips to heaven and the return of deceased souls to earth. It is the stuff of romance, of fancy, and beauty. 

What about my adventure bro?

Keep it in your pants, lovers of adventure: the second half the collection delivers on the action. We get four short stories of Alan Quatermain, the famous hunter and treasure-seeker. Although these are technically prequel stories of a character well-established in King Solomon’s Mines, these are largely told from the perspective of an older Quatermain. They had just a bit of flavor of the tall-tale stories of Commander McBragg (remember that pith-helmeted dude from Saturday mornings, fellow Gen-Xers?), save that Quatermain is reserved, and his stories, real. Yet like McBragg his exploits are so incredible everyone is left spellbound—including us, the reader. 

Haggard is a fantastic storyteller and his considerable talents are on display here. It’s no wonder Robert E. Howard was among the millions of readers and dozens of famous writers that fell under his spell. Haggard’s influence on Robert E Howard is plain, IMO. A couple lines jumped out at me; hard to say if these are a direct influence, especially “sere and yellow leaf,” which also appears in Macbeth, but Howard used that line in a conversation with Novalyne Price and I was surprised to see it also appear here:

And this one:

“Mashune was, I think, one of the bravest men I ever knew in the daytime, but he had more than civilized dread of the supernatural.”

Haggard is truly in his element these Quartermain stories, conveying the tension of big-game hunts, the palpable danger of hungry lions on the prowl. It pulls you straight in.

Again in reference to Howard, Haggard’s description of lions’ blazing eyes just outside the camp firelight reminded me of Howard’s descriptions from "The Tower of the Elephant."

Speaking of elephants … we get elephant hunting, tusks harvested for trade, Zulu servants, and the “n” word making appearances, so be prepared for all of this.

The last story in the volume is worth mentioning, as is the introduction.

“The Mahatma and the Hare” is unlike any of the preceding entries and at least at the moment I probably would call it the best of the lot. It is something great; something of the Grail is in it. Think Watership Down condensed into 45 pages, focused on a single rabbit rather than a troupe, with more period horse and hound hunting and a clearer vision of heaven and divine judgement. It contains much truth about human cruelty and ignorance of the “other.” It really is a fantastic little story and you can read it in full here, free on Gutenberg. But do support the publisher, too.

Finally, Deuce Richardson provides a wonderful introduction to the volume, “H. Rider Haggard: Imagination, Death and Immortality,” summing up Haggard’s influence, the big picture of his literacy legacy, and a thematic tie-in to all the stories that follow.

In short, highly recommended. These stories are old, but startlingly imaginative and vital and graceful. While Haggard died more than 100 years ago, he has much to teach any modern writer—and can still bind the modern reader with a potent spell.

News about thews, and more

Some cool stuff you should know about.

I made the marquee, not an "& Others"!

I mentioned in a previous issue of Arcane Arts that I was asked to participate on a Robert E. Howard-themed virtual panel hosted by The Dark Man: Journal of Robert E. Howard Studies.

Details are now out. 

Here's the panel description:

First Panel, 10:00–11:30MST: ‘Forging Sword and Sorcery: Scholarly approaches to REH’; moderator: Rhys Lomas

• Laura Shubert
• Jonas Prida
• Brian Murphy
• Jeff Shanks

Looks like a fantastic event, with the likes of Sara Frazetta, Rusty Burke, Jim Zub, Jeff Shanks, and others, and it's been put together largely by college students from MacEwan University in Alberta, Canada. 

Cool.

Secondly, the latest Arcane Arts hit inboxes yesterday (see, if you were a subscriber you would have already avidly read the issue). This was a good one, with links to some great YouTube videos including the complete Ronnie James Dio documentary "Dreamers Never Die" and a presentation by Tom Shippey on H. Rider Haggard's Eric Brighteyes. Plus other fun stuff. 

"Shake Me," Cinderella

This week's Metal Friday brings the hair... an awesome track from 1986's Night Songs. My favorite song and album from the mighty Cinderella.

I choose this track due to proximity. I just heard it live, about a week ago, at the Hampton Beach Ballroom Casino. Now let me tell you (to paraphrase a lyric), Tom Keifer still sounds awesome. He was playing solo, opening act Buckcherry, and he was great. Played all the Cinderella hits. My longtime buddy Wayne and I have seen Tom several times at this venue and were quite pleased. It's a beautiful 25 minute drive from my home, right to the ocean.

You can thank me in advance for this fan-cut video. Whoever made it deserves the Presidential Medal of Freedom, for obvious reasons. Watch and enjoy over beer this Metal Friday.

Something old, new, and borrowed/blue, and other happy and irritating stuff

Is the theme of this week's Arcane Arts: Dispatches From The Silver Key. I cover news about H. Rider Haggard, new sword-and-sorcery, and the passing of longtime Fantastic editor Ted White.

Sign up if you haven't already. No better way to stay in touch than email due to algorithmic whims. Also I might be doing some giveaways in an upcoming issue for loyal followers.

As noted I don't have much time for substantive posting here on the blog due to the heavy metal memoir. Just finished inputting the edits on chapter 5 (of 11) this morning. Progress is steady.

I cannot wait to share the book.

One other bit of interesting news. Below is a snapshot of my recent blog traffic.

What warrants such a massive hockey stick of a spike to the right? Must be my awesome recent post on Iron Maiden's "Thin Line Between Love and Hate"? Thousands of fans flocking to sign up to Arcane Arts?

Sadly, no. You can probably guess the answer. Very obvious patterns of AI training going on here. I can see where the traffic is coming from and 80-90% of it is not from humans.

In an ironic twist my company is paying for subscriptions to both ChatGPT and Claude. Yes, the very companies that pillage and plunder--ahem, train on--content from their betters, i.e., creative humans--to build their products, will gladly sell their product back to you for handsome monthly subscription fees. And then nail you with steadily increasing fees from the new "token" usage limits that will allow them to prop up their inflated stock prices and rake in billions.

If you're a creative you should be outraged. Unfortunately too many enjoy licking the boot heels of rich men who want you to buy "intelligence" from them like a utility--intelligence that has been strip-mined from people who actually have it. 

Arcane Arts hitting inboxes... make it yours

The latest issue of Arcane Arts--my weekly-ish email newsletter covering all things sword-and-sorcery, heavy metal, personal, and random shit that crosses my transom which I find interesting--is out.

Issue #14 covers Queen of the Black Coast, a new Geddy Lee interview, and more.

Subscribe at the widget at right, or by visiting this page and dropping in your email.

The Thin Line Between Love and Hate, Iron Maiden

Iron Maiden's Brave New World came out 26 years ago.

Twenty-six years. I remember it very well ... I feel like it was just yesterday. But of course it was not. 

Only 20 years separate Brave New World (2000) from Iron Maiden (1980). It blows my mind that I've been listening to this album longer than Maiden had been in existence when it first appeared (!) WTF.

Brave New World is full of bangers and is integral to the heavy metal revival that put an overdue stake in grunge. Rock in Rio was recorded on the supporting tour and is up there with Live After Death as Maiden's finest live performance captured on film.

Anyway, enough old fogey-ness (fogginess?) and onto the song at hand.

I've been thinking a lot about thin lines, and the choices we make. Spinal Tap said there's a fine line between stupid and clever, which is fantastically funny. But there's also a world of grey that makes important choices difficult--yet we are free to make them, for good or ill. And these choices can make all the difference. Maiden weighs into that truth here:

There's a grey place between black and white

But everyone does have the right to choose the path that he takes

I never pass up an opportunity to talk about Bruce Dickinson and his voice soars in "Thin Line", especially this verse. I give huge credit to Blaze Bayley for stepping in manfully during Bruce's absence, and the two albums he participated on are quite good in hindsight, but this song is a reminder of what was missing. Bruce sings as though he's channeling a soul in flight to the other side:

I will hope

My soul will fly

So I will live forever

Heart will die

My soul will fly

And I will live

Forever

With the release of "Burning Ambition" and the creep of advancing age I feel like we're getting near the end of Iron Maiden as a recording and touring force. But they will live forever.

Some final thoughts on Stephen King’s The Stand

Warning: Minor spoilers

I’m done with the re-read, and had a few final thoughts on this very big book.

Where does Stephen King stand (ahem) on the big questions? The existence of God? Fate vs. free will? 

We can’t say for certain from reading The Stand in isolation. It is an error to think that an author’s depiction of anything in a work of fiction must be what he/she believes. It is also an error to think that a work conceived in 1978, and updated for an uncut 1988 re-release, is a still-living author’s last word. I have not read much of recent King; I have not read what most consider his magnum opus, The Dark Tower, for example. Any of these works surely may reveal a very different take on these sizable questions.

But, is interesting how much of a moral universe we get in The Stand … and how closely it aligns with that of J.R.R. Tolkien.

We may be able to attribute this to a simple cause. Stephen King was heavily influenced by The Lord of the Rings at the time he wrote The Stand. So much that not just its trappings—dark lords and epic quests and character echoes—but Tolkien’s themes and worldview permeate its pages.

These might be King’s too, or King circa1978.

A few examples.

Stephen King is not a fan of the state. By the end of the book people are leaving even the seemingly idyllic Free State of Boulder because too many cooks leads to conflict, and corruption. As Glen Bateman (perhaps the closest we get to a stand-in for King) says: “Show me a man or a woman alone and I’ll show you a saint. Give me two and they’ll fall in love. Give me three and they’ll invent the charming thing we call ‘society’. Give me four and they’ll build a pyramid. Give me five and they’ll make one an outcast. Give me six and they’ll reinvent prejudice. Give me seven and in seven years they’ll reinvent warfare. Man may have been made in the image of God, but human society was made in the image of His opposite number, and is always trying to get back home.” This is a Howardian theme, too. And Moorcockian… the quest for Tanelorn continues.

King believes in good and evil. There are evil forces at work in the world in tangible, Manichean form, but also in the hearts of the characters. There is objective right and wrong, and there is temptation that makes the struggle difficult and complex.

King believes in free will of some sort. Harold Lauder had chances to turn back. Reading Fran’s diary was a choice, as was his choice to take in Nadine and commit the ultimate act of sabotage. Each time his choices escalated until he hit a point of no return. But, King offers complexity. Making a choice is easier for some. Harold was bullied as a child. He did not have his sister’s social savvy or good looks. His choices were therefore going to be harder, and influenced. Biological determinism and environmental factors play a part, fate plays a part… but ultimately we have a choice (I think this is where The Stand gets its name).

King shows us that evil is a destroyer, not a creator. Randall Flagg is a demonic-like force, the equivalent of Sauron, or if not quite that powerful, some combination of Balrog and Ringwraith. But while the forces of good set about rebuilding, Flagg puts his followers to work reactivating the machinery of war. His true power is in fear and manipulation and preying on people’s weakness, destroying them from within.

Returning to the mistake of equating fictional story with authorial belief, if you read all of this in a vacuum you might conclude that King = conservative Catholic. We know this not to be true. But I think party affiliation is a very crude and incomplete tool for understanding a human being. We share more in common than we think.

Likewise I think The Stand has something for everyone.

If you had a bad experience with King reading the inevitable clunker somewhere in his vast corpus, I wholeheartedly recommend you give him another try—and make that book The Stand. It is perhaps his magnum opus (even considering The Dark Tower and IT). It offers a grand adventure. And even though it is clearly Tolkien inspired, it is a model of how an author can wear his/her Tolkien influence on their sleeve while still creating something new. Set in the modern era, after the fallout of plague virus, a myth for America instead of England, The Stand qualifies. It is no Lord of the Rings, but so what? No other work is either. 

So it begins... a final big push

A few items of note.

Arcane Arts: Dispatches from the Silver Key went out yesterday, covering heavy metal, sword-and-sorcery (including Karl Edward Wagner's Kane, a cool fanzine I'm a part of, and an academic panel on REH I'll be speaking on). 

Remember to sign up if you haven't already. It's a free email and covers stuff I don't cover here. 

It also included something important I want to talk about in a bit more detail: The heavy metal memoir.

The Silver Key went dormant from 2013-2019, not coincidentally the same time I went to work on Flame and Crimson.

The good news is: That's not going to happen with the latest WIP. It's fully written, reviewed by a couple close friends and my wife who all appear in it. I rewrote it until I couldn't look at it anyore.

But on Friday/Saturday it came back from a contracted line editor. And, I have some work to do.

I plan to have it done by July-early August. I need to have it done by then. I’m giving myself a little wiggle room, but not much.  I’m hosting a heavy metal party with a live band in mid-Septemer, at which I’m handing out a few free copies of the book.

It must be done by then. And so the big, difficult, final push is on.

Posting here will be less frequent and less substantive. 

Stephen King on REH

Stephen King had … things to say about Robert E. Howard and sword-and-sorcery.  He mostly liked the former … not so much the latter.

If you own a copy of the Del Reys and their pure Howard texts, you've probably seen this positive, forceful quote placed prominently on display:

“In his best work, Howard's writing seems so highly charged with energy that it nearly gives off sparks.”

This is an excerpt from King's1981 survey of horror and dark fantasy Danse Macabre. In it King references Howard with praise, though has no use for the subgenre he spawned. 

King calls sword-and-sorcery a mediocre branch of fantasy that catered tales of power and wish-fulfillment for the powerless, “stories of strong-thewed barbarians whose extraordinary prowess at fighting is only excelled by their extraordinary prowess at fucking.” Added King, “This sort of fiction, commonly called ‘sword and sorcery’ by its fans, is not fantasy at its lowest, but it still has a pretty tacky feel; mostly it’s the Hardy Boys dressed up in animal skins and rated R.”  King mentions no individual works or authors of sword-and-sorcery in his savage broadside, save Howard, who he also praises as “the only writer who really got away with this stuff. … Howard overcame the limitations of his puerile material by the force and fury of his writing and by his imagination.” 

You can find more King commentary on REH here on the blog of Gary Romeo, who examines a flawed piece from King that appeared in the Jan. 1978 issue of the men’s magazine Oui. Though I must say King’s “mama’s boy” commentary sounds suspiciously like something he would have picked up from a DeCamp intro. Romeo gives us the full Danse Macabre quote from King, which is decidedly more of a mixed opinion of Howard:

 “In his best work, Howard’s writing seems so highly charged with energy that it nearly gives off sparks. Stories such as “The People of the Black Circle” glow with the fierce and eldritch light of his frenzied intensity. At his best, Howard was the Thomas Wolfe of fantasy, and most of his Conan tales seem to almost fall over themselves in their need to get out. Yet his other work was either unremarkable or just abysmal….The word will hurt and anger his legion of fans, but I don’t believe any other word fits.”

All this comes up here because as I continue to work my way through the The Stand I’ve encountered another REH reference. Harold Lauder, a troubled Gollum-like figure who hovered on the edge of “good” and might still have become that way, is jilted by Frances Goldsmith, gives in to his worst adolescent impulses, and ultimately throws his lot in with Vegas and Flagg and the wicked West.

Pre-superflu Lauder was once a reader of adventure fiction … then gave it up for the (imagined) company of girls:

At age sixteen he had given up Burroughs and Stevenson and Robert Howard in favor of other fantasies, fantasies that were both well loved and much hated—not of rockets or pirates but of girls in silk see-through pajamas kneeling before him on satin pillows while Harold the Great lolled naked on his throne, ready to chastise them with small leather whips, with silver-headed canes. They were bitter fantasies through which every pretty girl at Ogunquit High School had strolled one time or another.

Ah Harold, you shouldn’t have read Frannie’s diary…no turning back from that.

King is a king of pop culture references. Howard-heads, are you aware of any other REH references?

Anyway, well past the halfway mark of The Stand.

Arcane Arts #11

Has just published. More thoughts on The Stand, and S&S, and Dokken. If you happen to like these things: https://brian-murphy.kit.com/posts/arcane-arts-dispatches-from-the-silver-key-8 

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Returning to The Stand, and its comforts

I find Stephen King’s The Stand to be comfort food. I’m not sure what that says about me … but there it is.

A devastating plague accidently leaks from a top-secret U.S. Department of Defense biological weapons laboratory located under the California Mojave Desert. Extremely contagious and extraordinarily deadly, the plague, nicknamed Captain Trips (also Tube Neck and the choking sickness) suffocates its hosts in pleurisy and mucous, eliminating most of the world’s population.

There are survivors but many suffer far worse fates.

Unimaginable horror … but comforting to me, nonetheless. Perhaps because there is something of The Lord of the Rings in it, a novel to which I also return to again and again for familiarity and relief. King has stated on a few occasions that he was attempting with The Stand to write an American Lord of the Rings, and all the broad strokes are there: troupe of heroes banding together, an epic quest of good vs. evil that stretches from coast-to-coast in which Boulder serves as Minas Tirith and Vegas, Mordor. Maine is a sort of Rivendell. 

Randall Flagg, the Walking Dude, an American dark lord.

The second way in which I find The Stand comforting is its nostalgia. It takes me back to a different time and place in my life, enveloping me like a warm blanket. I think I read the original 1978 version sometime in the late 80s, when my King obsession was in full swing. I used to own this version, and was a fan of the depiction of Flagg’s cold and menacing eyes. I’m saddened to learn that at some point I parted ways with it.

When The Stand was re-released in 1991 for the first time complete and uncut, I bought the first edition Signet paperback, which I still own, and read it voraciously. Here it is.

My cherished, first edition paperback.

I graduated high school in ’91 and at the time my buddies and I were all mainlining thrash metal. Anthrax’s “Among the Living” (song and album) was the ultimate complement to this re-released uncut version of The Stand, which several of us read and chatted about. It was a glorious time. The period in which the events of the original novel is set--the late 70s--is the time of my early youth.

It's a vibe man, one I dig.

Like LOTR The Stand is about loss and the Fall. King says in Danse Macabre that he was inspired to write the book after America’s early 1970s backslide—the disgrace and resignation of Richard Nixon, the divisive and fruitless Vietnam War, inflation, and the 1970s energy crisis. “The America I had grown up in seemed to be crumbling beneath my feet,” King said. “It began to seem like an elaborate castle of sand and unfortunately built well below the high tide line.”

The Stand is absolutely fantastic in its depiction of rapid societal collapse. If we had any doubt how quickly our own bindings could come undone the events of 2020 made that clear. We disintegrated pretty damned quick. Rather than rally together the pandemic and its response drove a wedge in this country.

The Stand is entirely reframed post-COVID-19. It no longer feels so fantastic. Though we don’t know (and may never know) its ultimate origins, Covid probably escaped from a Wuhan Lab; perhaps an infected Chinese scientist escaped quarantine and went on the run with his family before the outbreak could be contained. 

Let’s hope we’ve seen the worst and will be better prepared next time. Maybe we should all read The Stand and remember what is at stake.

Postapocalyptic novels offer clarity and simplification. Office politics and tax rates and school budgets are wiped away, replaced by simple survival. With fewer choices, our minds are unburdened. We imagine how we’d do in that situation.

We hope good people would still come together in the end. 

King is in a very small handful of the most recognizable and read authors of our generation, and not without cause. Re-reading The Stand (I’m on page 272 of this 1,141 page monster) I’m reminded why. 

He’s a creative genius.

I haven’t read The Stand in perhaps 20 years and as I revisit it now I'm finding the number of small strokes of imaginative detail staggering. The cold-blooded Elder, an icy-eyed assassin in a hazmat suit who at the last hour will make sure Stu Redman doesn't survive to tell the tale. The wild-eyed Monster Shouter, a mad prophet who roams a barren New York landscape declaring that the monsters are returning. He's right.

King’s second authorial gift is bringing characters to life. The Stand introduces us to an broad and diverse cast, yet King renders each uniquely memorable. At this point in the book I’ve been reacquainted with the deaf-mute Nick Andros, laconic, blue-collar Stu Redman, troubled, budding rock star Larry Underwood, pregnant and free-spirited Frannie Goldsmith, petty crook Lloyd Henreid, and the creepy and nerdily awkward Harold Lauder. Each time it’s like meeting an old friend.

And then there’s Randall Flagg, the Dark Man, a half-man, half-demon, charismatic, mad, and full of evil design. 

King’s third gift is his ability scare the shit out of you. You don’t forget Underwood’s crawl for freedom through the Lincoln Tunnel in a terrifying, pitch-black sequence. Or the cool hand that slides out and around Stu’s ankle in the dark stairwell in his final escape from a Vermont CDC lab. Come down and eat chicken with me, beautiful…

Imagination, characterization, fear… The Stand combines all this with an epic storyline and so is one of King’s best. I’m not sure if it’s his best book—take your pick of IT, The Shining, Pet Sematary, 11/22/63, Salem’s Lot, Misery, a few others—but The Stand is in that conversation.

The Stand has been adapted for television twice, as recently as 2021, which I haven't seen, and apparently is not very good.

I watched the 1994 miniseries at college when it debuted and enjoyed it for the most part, though it still fell far short of the high bar set by the book. The opening sequence remains effective; I can no longer hear Blue Oyster Cult’s “Don’t Fear the Reaper” without thinking of dead scientists in lab coats slumped over lunch tables.

I’m sure I’ll share a few more thoughts as I finish, but it’s a long way to Vegas. Better get on my walking boots.

Don't Break My Heart Again, Whitesnake

This is a great fucking song. 

Let's get that out of the way first. If you only know Whitesnake from "Still of the Night" or "Here I Go Again," here's one to broaden your horizons. It's a deep-ish cut, very early 80s, with a bit of 70s keyboard hangover clinging on. 

Which is great.

I am tired of conversations about genre. I shouldn't be I suppose, considering I wrote a book about one ... but I am. I just can't wade into anymore conversations about what is or isn't sword-and-sorcery.

This song is something of the reason why.

Is Whitesnake heavy metal? I mean, maybe? Maybe not?

It doesn't matter. 

What matters is, is the song good. Does it rock? Does it get your head nodding? 

Answer--yes. David Coverdale is killing it.

What matters about a story is, is the story good? Does it move you and keep the pages turning? Get that down first, let geeks like me sort out where it falls. 

Genre is a vague signpost. If someone is a Bon Jovi fan or a Scorpions fan, Whitesnake is pretty dialed in to that. Very safe referral. 

But even for Maiden and Priest fans like me, this is awesome. Which means, don't write to genre spec. Because you never know what genre fans will fall in love with. Throw in some science. Take out the bruising barbarian. Be an artist, not a paint-by-numbers follower.

Happy Metal and Hard Rock Friday.

Latest issue of Arcane Arts is out

Issue no. 10 of Arcane Arts hit inboxes this AM. I've been nailing this every week, like clockwork on Wednesday morning, though as noted in this week's issue next week might end my streak (I have to travel to Chicago on business).

This week we covered:

• The holy grail
• Robert Plant
• My new author page on Facebook
• L. Sprague de Camp controversy
• Poul Anderson's The Last Viking

If you haven't signed up yet, throw your email in the widget at right. My subscribers are ticking up but its slow; if you know someone who might like what I cover in the newsletter forward them an email or send them here to sign up.

The great quest continues: Joseph Campbell's Romance of the Grail

I’m probably not going to find the holy grail—the cup Joseph of Arimathea used to gather the blood of Christ, and later brought to Glastonbury—in the wooded trail behind my house.

But then again, perhaps I might.

The search for the holy grail is not a search for physical relic, but a spiritual awakening within.

This second, deeper layer is why it and its associated myths endure. These comprise the heart of Joseph Campbell’s Romance of the Grail: The Magic and Mystery of Arthurian Myth.

I find myself needing a daily walk through the woods behind my home to reset from a world that is increasingly online and artificial and ugly. I recently made the mistake of following a thread over to Twitter/X and was confronted with a digital manifestation of The Wasteland, damaged 30-year-old dudebros cursing at one another and asking Grok to confirm the veracity of a series of AI generated text and images that would have made the editors of The Inquirer or Weekly World News blanch, and turn away.

And I turn again to nature, and physical books, for healing. And to those who have sought the path of wisdom.

The Middle Way... an old railroad bed behind my house.

Joseph Campbell examined myths across cultures, looking for patterns and similarities. These patterns led him inexorably back to the human heart. Many researchers err by trying to tie myths to history or prove or disprove them by sifting through physical artifacts, rather than their psychological truths, which are found within. In his words:

“It is one of the prime mistakes of many interpreters of mythological symbols to read them as references, not to mysteries of the human spirit, but to earthly or unearthly scenes and to actual or imagined historical events—the Promised Land as Canaan, for example, and heaven as a district of the sky—or to see the Israelites passage of the Red Sea as an event such as newspaper reporter might have witnessed. It is one of the glories, on the other hand, of the Celtic tradition that in its handling even of religious themes it retranslates them from the languages of imagined fact into a mythological idiom, so that they may be experienced not as time-conditioned but as timeless, telling not of miracles long past but of miracles potential within ourselves, here, now, and forever.”

This truth can be understood by examining the early mythological sources of the grail. The grail resists a definitive single physical instantiation. For example, in its earliest depictions from Welsh and Celtic sources it took the form not of a cup, but a cauldron. The cauldron of Rebirth/Pair Dadeni, from the central Welsh myth featuring a vessel that can revive dead warriors, which plays a major role in the Mabinogion (and much later, the Prydain Chronicles). The Dagda’s Cauldron, one of the Four Treasures of the Tuatha Dé Danann, an inexhaustible vessel out of deep Irish lore from which "no company ever went away hungry." And Ceridwen’s Cauldron, of Poetic Inspiration and Knowledge, which bestowed wisdom and transformation on its user. 

Multiplication of food/unlimited sustenance, wisdom and transformation, resurrection. 

These ancient Celtic sources were almost certainly the basis for the grail myth, which became transmogrified by the likes of Wolfram von Eschenbach (who depicted the grail as a stone from heaven), and the unfinished romance Perceval le Gallois by Chrétien de Troyes. You can find a good article on that process here. And of course, in this book.

Campbell’s first mythological obsession was the Grail. We get in this book his master’s thesis, “A Study of the Dolorous Stroke,” which he submitted to the Department of English and Comparative Literature at Columbia University in 1927, when he was just 22 years old. It’s a deep examination of the myth of the Fisher King, the story of the wounding of a king by a lance through the thigh or groin (sometimes burning of a hand). The king is left in agony, unable to find relief save through fishing. 

The wound is also spiritual. Fishing is equated to going down into unconscious waters to pull souls, or beings, out of the unconscious state into the light, Campbell says. We’ve all been hurt, deeply. We need someone to, without expectation of reciprocity or mercenary motive, ask the question: what ails you, friend? 

After asking the question, a draught from the grail brings healing, to the king and the land.

Peace is all around us, but our monkey minds won’t permit it to be seen. One path is the search for the grail, through examining its symbolic importance as a vessel of wisdom and rebirth. 

In its stories you might find what it has to teach about your own plight, friend. 

The best chapter is probably Campbell’s examination of Wolfram von Eschenbach’s Parzival, which I do need to read, one of these days. Here Campbell’s does his unique magic of convincingly tying Buddhism to Arthurian Romance. Both are concerned with the search for a path to liberation known as the Middle Way. “The Middle Way between heaven and hell is earned through exercise of the three virtues, plus a fourth: 1) disengagement from the fury of the passions, 2) fearlessness in the face of death, 3) indifference to the opinion of the world, and 4) compassion.” In von Eschenbach’s tale a Muslim knight confronts Anfortas, the Fisher King, on the jousting field; Anfortas kills his foe but receives a wound through his thighs. Campbell interprets this wounding not as a simple battle, but as a symbolic disaster representing "the dissociation within Christendom of spirit from nature". The Christian king (Anfortas) is wounded by a representative of nature (the "oriental" or pagan warrior). These two opposing forces, nature and spirit, can only be resolved through access to a middle way.

Writes Campbell, “The first birth of man, as a physical culture motivated by the animal energies of the body, is biological. Man’s second, properly human birth, is spiritual, of the heart and mind.” 

Or as one of his great inspirations, Carl Jung, said, “your vision will become clear only when you can look into your own heart, who looks outside, dreams; who looks inside awakes.” 

There are many curious parallels between tales of the Crucifixion and of the dolorous stroke. Both point to a similar lesson:

Nor will people say, ‘Here it is,’ or ‘There it is,’ because the kingdom of God is in your midst.”

Romance of the Grail is studded with insights like this. It will lead you on a merry chase, for example to this terrific video. If you can bear the terrible tinny 80s music and production, a fantastic watch.

Recommended.

***

The path behind my house is a Middle Way. A railroad once ran on it, iron and coal combustion driving freight across the country. Now it’s given way to trucking, the rails and ties torn out. But the bed remains, a path that now accommodates foot traffic into nature.

Probably some type of symbol there. Maybe I’ll find a cauldron out in these woods.

Darkside of Aquarius, Bruce Dickinson

Intelligence has become fetishized.

CEOs of major tech companies with a very high IQ… and zero sense, and zero empathy.  Sam Altman defending AI’s energy toll by saying it also takes a lot to ‘train a human.’ “It takes about 20 years of life – and all the food you consume during that time – before you become smart,” he says.

Chilling.

Being “smart” is the top of his hierarchy of values. And because of the theoretical unlimited computing power of a machine, we know where this leads.

Machine over man.

Intelligence ≠ wisdom.

Bruce Dickinson sang about this eloquently in “Darkside of Aquarius.” Powerfully too, but we expect that. It is Bruce, the human Air Raid Siren.

Peaceful existence and love of fellow man, as symbolized by the wheel of Dharma, is under assault from four apocalyptic hellriders. We've got 5 in the real world but close enough. I don’t put a lot of confidence in the soothsaying accuracy of astrological signs, but the Dark Side of Aquarius is a helpful heuristic here. It’s a psychological state characterized by extreme emotional detachment, stubbornness, and a tendency to be aloof or unpredictable. Intellect is prioritized over emotion.  It celebrates "progress" over human flourishing.

When unbalanced, Aquarians can act coldly and ruthlessly, frequently using their intelligence to justify any action. A God complex. 

The second hellrider came, from flaming seas and molten sands

Pipers playing Hell's commands

Poured out his poison, with his promises of promised lands

Blackened tongues of lying leaders

We need a silver surfer to save us from Galactus about now. This bit is in the song too. 

I’ve also heard that it is a reference to Shakespeare’s “Macbeth,” but it’s too long since I’ve read that to comment. And I have to run to a brewery.

… ANYWAY, grim stuff but a great song. That transition at 4:38 … chills.

I have said before Bruce’s solo stuff is criminally underrated. Accident of Birth is an incredible album for which I need to do a deeper dive at some point. I've covered "Man of Sorrows" before and there is a lot more to mine from this album.

Happy Metal Friday.

Arcane Arts #9

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Ten things I’ve learned after 1000 blog posts

I said this was coming after The Super, Super-Secret History of Sword-and-Sorcery. And here it is. This isn’t a summarization of everything I’ve learned since starting The Silver Key, because since I first pressed publish in September 2007 I’ve read +/- 1,000 books, changed careers, raised children, witnessed deaths and births, seen the world, grown grayer and balder, and hosted a Judas Priest tribute band in my living room. I want to talk instead about what a regular, consistent, and now I have to add—human—writing habit did for me, and could do for you. Blog post by blog post, from one to 1,000.

Having written 1,000 blog posts, if you do the same:

1. You will become a better writer. Over time your posts will read better, they will take better structure and their argumentation, stronger. It will occur slowly but inevitably and inexorably. When you work out with weights you don’t build strength in a week or a few months but over years, one workout after the next. Until suddenly you realize you’ve become a better writer. In my oldest posts my style is there and recognizable, but is abrupt, crabbed, less thoughtful, less ambitious. I am a better writer now and still making incremental improvements.

2. You will become a more rigorous thinker. Reading books is one of the best things a human being can do; writing down your thoughts and impressions as you read and publishing them is the next level. On many occasions I thought I knew what a book was about ... until I began writing about it. And realized I had more thinking to do. I’ve made revelations by committing my clouded, half-baked thoughts to the page, and edited and revised until I understood. As a clear thinker you will start to be seen as an authority, whether you want to or not. 

3.You will build a repository of content that you can turn into books or articles. You can write a book this way; many have done this. Flame and Crimson was built on dozens of sword-and-sorcery book reviews gradually expanding to broader thoughts on genre. My heavy metal memoir is in production and while it’s not precisely what I do with Metal Friday, it is inspired by my memories here, of how I grew up with the greatest genre of music ever conceived for pale teenage boys. 

4. Your interests will change, you will change, and so will your output. I started this blog in the midst of a 10-year D&D campaign and that was the subject of many of my early posts. I no longer play D&D and so my writing on roleplaying has fallen away. These days I am reading a lot less fiction, I find myself more interested in the world, and my psychology. So I write about those topics. I don’t know how others have the will to narrow their focus to say, roleplaying only. Focus is almost certainly better way to build an audience, but that’s not what I’m doing here. And not everyone will like the change to your blog, which leads me to point 5.

5. You will constantly struggle with what to leave out as much to put in. I’ve debated whether I should address some hot social issue of the day. I brush up to politics and religion. And usually leave it out. I am cautious with what I commit to writing, but not overly so; if you round the edges off something enough it becomes shapeless. Some things you write will offend people; I’ve had people leave nasty, insulting comments on my posts for some perceived sleight or for not sharing their same passion for their pearl of a book or movie. I would say I’m sorry but I’m mostly not; I’m a harmless 52-year-old blogger with a point of view. These days I try to lean into positivity, and saying nothing instead of going critical. But if you feel strongly about something, say it. The point is not to antagonize or troll, but if you write clearly and truthfully you will offend someone, somewhere. In fact if no one ever is aroused by something you’ve written, you’re probably playing it too cautious. 

6. You will learn the secret formula: Discipline married to inspiration. Forget about trying to be divinely inspired or profound, just write, regularly. Not every post is going to move mountains. In fact you can’t predict what will land; sometimes you’ll press publish thinking you’ve just written the next “Self-Reliance” and it lands without a sound in the digital void. What’s not important is what you write but that you keep doing it. You don’t have to write every day but if pressed I would say, never let a week go by without a post. In the long run you will need to find what you are passionate about or you will lose steam. Write about what you must. It doesn’t matter if it’s been said before, once or a hundred times; you haven’t said it in your own, unique way. But at some point even your passion will wane, if only temporarily, when that occurs a weekly discipline comes back in.

7. No one else does this so you’ve got superpowers, man! Most websites or blogs go dormant; the number of people who start a blog or a Substack or a website only to have it collect dust in 2 weeks or 6 months is by far and away the norm. If you can do 1000 posts over years you are abnormal, you might even be Batman. You have accomplished something most mortals will not. 

8. You will come to understand that blogs aren’t a popular medium—and that’s OK. Reading is in decline. That’s not my opinion, that is a highly studied and well-surveyed fact. Most people will go to YouTube to watch a video on Conan or the Normandy landings than seek out an article on these topics. The heyday of blogs was probably 2005-2011, which is starting to sound like a long time ago. If your goal is views, or building an audience, you should probably go the YouTube route. I’ve got a face for radio and I’m far more comfortable writing than speaking, and as noted I think writing is transformative for the individual in a way pressing record and speaking is not. If you’re of the same bent just know this medium is considerably less popular.

9. Your ego will never vanish, but your need for approval will weaken its grip. I still sometimes judge whether posts are successful based on views/shares/comments, when I know a much better metric is, is this something I’m proud of, entertained by, or find important? I do appreciate every comment I’ve ever received, every post anyone has ever shared. But ultimately extrinsic rewards are a trap; you can’t control what others think. Basing your happiness or judging your success on these metrics is folly. Write for you.

10. You will come to appreciate the act of writing for its intrinsic, human value. Writing is a beautiful, human act. It’s been with us for thousands of years for a reason. It encodes knowledge. Communication keeps us from wars. Storytelling gives our lives meaning. It has value so the AI companies crawl my blog and the entirety of the internet in ever increasing numbers. An authentic human voice is a finite resource to be mined for their parasitic, dehumanizing tech. Have at it; they’ll never be me. This is my act of rebellion, a bone middle finger encased in flesh aimed at Sam Altman. His machines are dependent on me; they crawl my blog because both he and his product are not creative; they copy. Using AI to write is not writing; you cede the craft and your very thought to a machine. AI writing has nothing to do with writing 1,000 posts, it is “content creation” suited at best for commercial objectives (SEO, advertisement, etc.). And even if you do you use AI, you should be doing your creative writing yourself, for all the reasons listed above. Embrace your unique humanity. Embrace writing for its own sake.

And a bonus observation:

11. It is worth it. 

Thanks for reading.