I’m on a quest to find kick-butt cowgirl heroines, and although I appreciate the girl-next-door look of the singing cowgirls and I love-love-love the whip of Linda Stirling in Zorro’s Black Whip, I find that while there are many cowgirls that are hawtness personified, there are none with the on-screen charisma of a Clint Eastwood.
Is my . . . → Read More: The Girls of Westerns, part 1; or, The Quick and the Dead
My lucky horseshoe used to be my sister’s horse’s cast-off shoe, bent and scarred silver with use. Now I use Roy Rogers’s horseshoe. It’s stamped “Lucky Horseshoe,” and with Roy Roger’s name and Trigger’s for good measure. Yes, I am a lucky, lucky bucko.
The singing cowboy is a unique kind of hero in the . . . → Read More: The Cowpoke’s Life’s for Me; The Brands of Herb Jeffries and Roy Rogers
The world around us is getting Westy, a crazy combo of tantalizing Gold Rush-type possibilities with a shadow side of hubris-based epic fails. Got BP, anyone?
In films and literature of the Wild West, there are small number of basic plot structures–whether you’d call them stereotypical or archetypal depends on how you swing. One structure, based on . . . → Read More: West World; or, BP versus Spencer Tracy
Remember the whiz-bang shoot-’em-ups of Saturday afternoons of yesteryear?
I don’t (having been weaned on monster movies and Tarzan flicks, which I watched with my sister during those rare moments when we weren’t pulling each other’s hair). But somehow the flickering, galloping images from oaters are in me. (Perhaps they are inculcated by a potent combo of . . . → Read More: The Truth of Memory; or, Cisco Kid + Telecaster = Heaven
Linda Stirling as the Black Whip in Zorro’s Black Whip, 1944, from www.wantedcowgirls.com
For me western porn is film stills and posters and book covers of hunks and hunkettes loaded down with western gear like holsters and chaps and cowboy boots and spurs and Colts and maybe a hard-edged stare or two.
And, oh yeah, I was . . . → Read More: Cowgirls Gone Wild; or, I Can Has Cheezcake?
Nothing can beat a lurid western film poster.
What is it about a holster looped around hips, the frozen snarl of a villain, the gimlet eye of the hero with the thousand-yard stare, the heaving bosoms of the love interest? And all in vermilion, cadmium yellow, and cerulean blue, traced in black, shot with white. Yum.
Even relatively . . . → Read More: Betrayal! Rage! Vengeance! Lust! Kiss!; or, Life as a Movie Poster