Archive for December, 2010

December 25, 2010

Get Stuffed this Xmas at The K-Bomb Kindle Store

Get an e-book reader stuffed in your stocking? Then motor over to the K-bomb Kindle Store and snag some electronic blasts of modern beat journalism designed for the fast, the inquisitive and the appalled.

At K-Bomb Publishing, among the new titles ready for your post-yuletide, orgiastic e-consumption are: The Devil’s Own Day, Cole Coonce’s time-twisting, meta-fiction mash-up of Erwin Rommel, Mississippi delta blues and Nathan Bedford Forrest: Sex & Travel & Vestiges of Metallic Fragments, a collection of Cole Coonce essays on sundry scenarios such as Teutonic milfs, atomic cars on fire, Manson girls  in Death Valley, Hurricane Katrina, and caviar-looting punk-rock chicks;  as well as Come Down from the Hills and Make My Baby, Coonce’s memoir of sex, drugs, drum machines and riots during the dawn of Los Angeles’ Infotainment Age.

So fire up your Kindle, hit kbomb.tv and get stuffed!

December 14, 2010

The Devil’s Own Day: Meta-Fiction Mash Up of Rommel, Delta Blues and Nathan Bedford Forrest

FOR IMMEDIATE RELEASE

K-Bomb CentCom, Los Angeles, CA—While ignoring the mores and delicate dictates of the modern world, K-Bomb Publishing is elated to announce the release of The Devil’s Own Day, Cole Coonce‘s literary mash-up that blends the lives and careers of Nazi Field Marshall Erwin Rommel, delta-blues harpist George Dobson and Confederate General Nathan Bedford Forrest.

Set in Berlin, Memphis and Tupelo in both the 1860s and 1930s, this is a time-shifting story of three anti-heroes and how their respective crises of conscience influence not only each other but the course of history. Indeed, The Devil’s Own Day serves as a character study that asks the question: Are some actions beyond redemption?

Moreover, are attempts at redemption not only futile, but self-defeating? These are some of the moral and intellectual challenges presented to Rommel by Dobson, a senescent Negro Confederate volunteer cum blues musician, who is hired by the Nazi as a guide for touring Civil War battlefields. Rommel, who is gathering information to formulating future battle plans for an imminent war under the employ of the Third Reich, finds himself exhausted by his travel companion’s incessant and seemingly insipid blues warblings during their road trip through the sticky boondocks of Mississippi, in a journey that can only compared to Driving Miss Daisy meets Triumph of the Will.

Indeed, while stuck in the Lincoln touring car with the blues musician, the German is constantly confronted with seemingly primitive songs whose verses pose pointed philosophical interrogatives such as: Are we all in bondage and serving an innately-evil master? Merely good soldiers following orders? When does when one sacrifice everything in order to take a stand against the untenable? And are a man’s flawed decisions really the fault of women?

Whatever the answers posited by The Devil’s Own Day, K-Bomb Publishing doubts the timeless philosophical conundrum will get explored on Oprah’s book club any time soon.

Copies can be found on Amazon, in both paperback and Kindle versions, as well as at Stories in Los Angeles. -Emil Bustello, c/o Emil Bustello MetaFlack Public Relations-

December 7, 2010

HONOLULU: SNEAKY BASTARDS

by Cole Coonce

(excerpted from SEX & TRAVEL & VESTIGES OF METALLIC FRAGMENTS)

There are shuttles that ping-pong from our resort hotel on Waikiki to the memorial at Pearl Harbor. Even though the federal government is paying for Pamela Palmer’s rented Mustang convertible, we take a bus to Pearl Harbor.

There is a short film about the attack, replete with cinema verite 16-millimeter footage taken from the deck of the Japanese aircraft carrier on the morning of the aerial attack. It is very spooky and moving. Half of the audience in the darkened theater are Japanese tourists, the rest Americans.

We take a boat out to the deck of USS Arizona, which is a tomb for one thousand or so sailors who died in the attack, by bullets, drowning, or by fire.

Over a half a century later, motor oil still seeps out of the engine room and sticks to the surface of the sea, creating an eerie viscous film that defiantly drifts out of the bay and into the mother ocean.

A Hawaiian girl throws a flower from the deck, and hits the seeping motor oil dead on.

“They shouldn’t have snuck up on us like that,” she says. The Japanese tourists click shutters, smoke cigarettes and pretend not to understand.-30-

Sex & Travel & Vestiges of Metallic Fragments, The Cole Coonce Reader Vol. 1