Author Archive

Cites & Insights 19:8 (December 2019) available

Wednesday, December 11th, 2019

Cites & Insights 19:8 (December 2019) is now available for downloading at

The 51-page issue, delayed for a period because of unexpected health issues, includes:

Libraries pp. 1-9

Mostly material from several years ago, that still seems applicable today.

Media pp. 9-16

One group of items on books and reading, another on music and audio.

Intersections: Open Access Issues pp. 16-36

The last OA roundup in C&I, dealing with myths, impact, access, DOAJ and miscellany.

Media: Warriors Classic 50 Movies, 1 pp. 36-51

Twenty-four peplum/sword and sandals movies.

This is not (probably the final issue; that should appear in very late December (possibly as late as December 34 or so…)

Warriors Classic 50 Movies, Disc 6

Thursday, December 5th, 2019

Son of Hercules in the Land of Darkness (orig. Ercole l’invincible or Hercules the Invincible), 1964, color. Al World (Alvaro Mancori) (dir.), Dan Vadis, Spela Rozin. 1:20.

As offered here, this is one in a series of Sons of Hercules films, with a lively and very silly theme song at beginning and end—and apparently offered as a two-parter, since roughly an hour in we’re given a fast preview of the final 20-28 minutes as “in the next part.”

Never mind. At times fast-moving, at times just lots of scenery with son Argolese and his cowardly sidekick wandering around either looking for a city surrounded by lava or within the city. The first 20 minutes have the daughter of a rustic village king stripping down to take a swim (although she winds up holding her short tunic in front of her) and about to be attacked by a lion, which Argolese naturally defeats. He’s told that would be enough to win the hand of anybody but the daughter of the king—but for her hand he has to slay a non-fiery dragon that’s threatening the village and bring back a tooth. Which, with the aid of a witch, he does—all in the first 20 minutes,

Meanwhile, the soldiers of an evil queen—frim the lava-surrounded city—destroy the village and take all but the coward prisoner. That sets up the rest of the movie. We see that Argolese has almost unlimited strength (he can easily defeat hundreds of armed soldiers, partly because the only use they make of their spears is to let him grab them and throw them, once impaling three soldiers on a single spear), but he’s not quite strong enough to keep two circus elephants from tearing him apart—until his quick prayer to his gods results in one of the chains breaking.

Lots more plot in one final busy day, and all ends well—if we’re to believe that the beautiful daughter, who’s been strapped to a St. Andrew’s Cross and bleeding nearly to the point of death is wholly recovered six minutes after being rescued. I guess love is strong.

Silliness aside, this is well-mounted, a generally very good color print, panned-and-scanned well enough that it wasn’t bothersome, and fun. I’ll give it $1.50.

Gladiators of Rome (orig. Il gladiatore di Roma, and IMDB has the singular “Gladiator”), 1962, “color.” Mario Costa (dir.), Gordon Scott, Wandisa Guida, Roberto Risso. 1:40.

Sometimes life really is too short. The title credits were in yellow text on a shades-of-yellow background; after that, at least for the first 15-20 minutes, it was black, red and white, with various reds the only colors to be seen. Add to that the pace: several minutes of people talking so quickly that I could never follow the plot, followed by action sequences basically showing that the current emperor was a bloodthirsty villain determined to drive out Christianity at all costs. Oh, there’s a superhumanly strong slave—and a beautiful slave girl who is, according to the IMDB summary, really a princess.

What the hell. It’s on Amazon Prime and might even have real color there. I gave up. According to IMDB reviews, I was probably right to do so. $0.

Goliath and the Dragon, aka Vengeance of Hercules (orig, La vendetta di Ercole), 1960, color. Vittorio Cottafavi (dir.), Mark Forest, Broderick Crawford, Gaby André. 1:27.

Now this is more like it! Very widescreen (if your TV can zoom the small 3×4 picture), fairly good print (a bit red-shifted at times, but fine overall), and…did you notice the second named actor? That’s right, Broderick Crawford is King Eurystheus, the sadistic ruler of Italia, a kingdom nearby Thebes, which is protected by Goliath.

Goliath has been sent on a mission to restore the Blood Diamond from a god’s statue that Crawford hid—in a cave protected by three-headed/flaming dogs and, I guess, a not very impressive dragon. Crawford’s convinced that Goliath is dead, making Thebes right for the plucking. Things don’t quite work out that way…

The oddity here: we’re told early on that Goliath has been granted not only enormous strength but immortality—yet one of the subplots involves Goliath’s brother poisoning him (don’t ask). Maybe immortality has a different meaning than I thought?

Anyway: bare-chested specimens of brute strength. Women in peril. Men in peril. Telepathy. Visits from an ethereal representative of the gods—in the final one of which the representative apparently cares more for Goliath than for the gods. A reasonably happy ending. (Well, not for Crawford…)

There’s also a little peasant who could be a sidekick, but he’s only in the movie for maybe two minutes total. Oh, and Goliath is also apparently Emelius the Mighty. Oh, and Mark Forest is apparently our old friend Lou Degni.

Apparently the American version, which I saw, is significantly different than the original, including the pretty much unconvincing stop-motion animation of the non-flaming dragon. It also changed hero names because American International released it—and Universal owned the rights to Hercules. Gods are easy; studio licensing departments are tough.

Oh, the US version has all new music, by Les Baxter no less.

All in all, I found this one satisfying: by the low standards of Warrior flicks, a full $2.

Maciste in King Solomon’s Mines (orig. Maciste nelle miniere del re Salomone). 1964, color. Piero Regnoli (dir.), Reg Park, Wandisa Guida, Bruno Piergentili. 1:32.

Good things: the version I have doesn’t rename Maciste as Samson (although others apparently do, including the IMDB page, which clearly shows the Maciste title). Equal opportunity villains: the king who’s usurped the throne and his partner in crime, a woman who wants half the profits from the mines (which the old king had kept closed to avoid problems) are both sadists—which I guess explains why they take forever to carry out their Fiendish Tortures, thus allowing Maciste to save the day. Oh, and if you relish extended closeups of a grotesque hero’s muscles, well, you get lots of that.

Otherwise…it’s a panned-and-scanned segment of a widescreen movie. Another case where blues and yellows rarely appear. Reg Park comes off as an absolute doofus even when he’s not captive to a magic ankle bracelet (and yes, first overcome by a special garland—don’t these folks ever learn?). Indeed, his “acting” seems about as lively when he has no will as it does the rest of the time. It’s slow. And slower. Then, sometimes, it’s slow. Generously, $0.50.

Final two issues of C&I delayed, future uncertain

Friday, November 29th, 2019

I had planned to release the December issue of C&I around now–and the final issue near the end of December 2019.

An eleven-night stay in the hospital (sepsis/staph, to be followed by six weeks of daily antibiotic injections and some period of draining) changed all that.

Based on energy and more important matters, the final issues will probably get done. Eventually. The spirit is good, but needing to keep legs elevated a third of thetime, and still not-quite-back-to-normal energy, and being homebound…isn’t helping.

Beyond that, I now learn that my web host is shutting down in a few months, and have to figure out, how, where, or whether to move this blog (tricky because the sitename is based on a domain that’s presumably going away), (where I feel obliged to retain some pages/pointers related to the GOA project for a few years), and C&I (which I’d planned to retain for three years).

Anyway: I’m not dead yet. We shall see what happens.

GOA4: October 2019 Update

Thursday, October 31st, 2019

Readership for the new edition and GOAJ3. As always, readership figures omit most of the last day of each month, because of the tools available.

All links available from the project home page, as always.

GOA4: 2013-2018

  • The dataset: 307 views, 80 downloads.
  • GOA4: 1,476 PDF ebooks and one paperback.
  • Countries 4: 363 PDF ebooks
  • Subjects and Publishers: 259 PDF ebooks

GOAJ3: 2012-2017

  • The dataset: 1,602 views, 268 downloads
  • GOAJ3: 3,627 PDF ebooks + 438 copies of first few chapters (C&I 18.3)
  • Countries: 1,215 PDF ebooks
  • Subject supplement (C&I 18.4): 566 downloads
  • One paperback

Cites & Insights 19.7 (November 2019) available

Thursday, October 24th, 2019

The penultimate or, more probably, antepenultimate issue of Cites & Insights, to wit Volume 19 Number 7 (November 2019), is now available for downloading at

This 44-page issue contains two essays:

Intersections: What’s the Big Deal? pp. 1-34

Most of this is about one particular Big Deal, and the heading for that section (actually three sections) should be a clue: Fiat Lux.

The Back pp. 34-44

The final set of little snarky items about a range of things–including a small set of updates on audiophile-approved system prices. The short version: leaving out digital sources and cables, you can get an audiophile-approved system (with speakers and turntable) for as little as $750…or as much as $694,000. For that matter, if you want a Class A (the best, price no object) system and $694,000 seems a bit steep, you can get by for $21,600.

Cites & Insights 19:6 (October 2019) available

Tuesday, October 1st, 2019

Cites & Insights 19:6 (October 2019) is now available for downloading at

The 39-page issue consists of a single essay

Intersections: Preditorials and Other Questionable Items pp. 1-39

In what’s probably the last C&I essay on The Lists and so-called “predatory” publishing, this roundup begins with a look at a few of the many preditorials–my neologism (or portmanteau) for editorials and other commentaries based on the notions that The Lists are infallible and that “predatory” publishing is undermining scholarly communications. The rest of the roundup deals with related issues.

This may or may not be the antepenultimate issue of C&I (The Limelighters will never die…); even if–as seems likely given the volume of comments received–C&I disappears at the end of Volume 19, there might be one final farewell issue.

GOA4: September 2019 Update

Monday, September 30th, 2019

Readership for the new edition and GOAJ3. As always, readership figures omit most of the last day of each month, because of the tools available.

All links available from the project home page, as always.

GOA4: 2013-2018

  • The dataset: 273 views, 63 downloads.
  • GOA4: 1,281 PDF ebooks and one paperback.
  • Countries 4: 302 PDF ebooks
  • Subjects and Publishers: 241 PDF ebooks

GOAJ3: 2012-2017

  • The dataset: 1,555 views, 255 downloads
  • GOAJ3: 3,593 PDF ebooks + 436 copies of first few chapters (C&I 18.3)
  • Countries: 1,101 PDF ebooks
  • Subject supplement (C&I 18.4): 558 downloads
  • One paperback

Mystery Collection Disc 51

Wednesday, September 25th, 2019

Mr. Robinson Crusoe, 1932, b&w. A. Edward Sutherland (dir.), Douglas Fairbanks, William Farnum, Maria Alba. 1:16 [1:10].

What to say? A yachtsman with his buddies in the South Pacific bets his friends he can swim to an uninhabited island with nothing but his clothes and a toothbrush and not only survive but thrive. Improbably (to put it mildly), this apparent engineering genius shortly manages to have a “penthouse” of sorts—and when a headhunter from a neighboring island threatens him, not only bests the headhunter, but with two radio tubes around the headhunter’s neck builds himself a radio that brings in San Francisco and other stations;

Did I say improbable? Maybe implausible.

Meanwhile, the companions are doing “sporting” things like shooting a lion in Sumatra—such manly fun! And a young woman on the very-much-inhabited nearby island flees because she’s been betrothed to a man she doesn’t care for, rows off and winds up…well, you can guess.

Oh, and the friend who made the bet doesn’t want to lose, so he hires the tribe on the nearby island to scare the yachtsman and tie him up (they make it very realistic, having him tied up like a skewered pig over an open flame—but the pet monkey turns on the radio, scaring away the tribe, and the woman unties him. And so on…

On one hand, Douglas Fairbanks (Sr.) clearly had the time of his life making this movie—which he also wrote under a pseudonym and produced. And his engineering does result in some amusing sight gags, implausible as it is. On the other…it’s racist as hell. If you can ignore that, it’s probably worth $1, but I can’t.

The Capture, 1950, b&w. John Sturges (dir.), Lew Ayres, Teresa Wright, Victor Jory. 1:31.

When you shoot a man, it’s probably not a good idea to marry his widow. Although, as it turns out, that’s not quite the story of this pretty decent flick, set in Mexico, and involving a convenient “great circle theory” of wounded arms.

The story, in brief: An American oil man in Mexico attempts to deal with the theft of the company payroll—and apparent death of all but one guard—by going after the apparent thief. He finds a person and, when the person fails to surrender with both hands in the air (because he’s been wounded in one arm and can’t move it), shoots to wound, but badly enough that the suspect dies of internal bleeding. And his guilt seems a bit questionable as the loot’s nowhere to be found.

The oil man’s fed up; his fiancée drops him; he quits and gets on a train—the same train carrying the corpse back home. He winds up working on the widow’s ranch, eventually figuring out that the couple weren’t really in love, and marrying her…and then, as he finds more information, feeling obliged to find the actual thief.

One thing leads to another, and there’s a dead oil man (the actual thief), with our hero the obvious suspect—although it’s pretty clear self-defense, he apparently never thinks of dealing with the police. In the process of escaping…he gets wounded in the same arm so he can’t lift it. He winds up spending the night recounting the story to a priest. At the last minute, thanks to his wife, he’s able to lift that other arm and surrender…and we’re somehow to believe all will live happily ever after.

Yeah, OK, so the plot’s more than a stretch, the last 20 minutes make no sense whatsoever, and the relationships involved are a touch strange—but Ayres and the rest do a good job, and in the end it was a pretty decent movie. $1.50.

Who Killed Doc Robbin?, 1948, color. Bernard Carr (dir.), “Curley and His Gang” and others. 0:55 (0:52).

A thrilling story of atomic espionage, animal experimentation, jurisprudence and an intrepid band of youngsters…well, no. It’s an atrocious little flick involving a fix-it man who’s developing Incredible Atomic Weapons as a sideline, an evil doctor who fakes his own death, a “haunted mansion” that only has electricity when it’s convenient, a justice system in which the first suspect is immediately brought to trial, as is the second suspect, with apparently no consideration of investigation.

What it really is, is a cheapo, badly acted, casually racist version of an “our gang” style set of kids, this one including two ethnic stereotypes for easy laughs…and it’s not worth a cent, color or not. (Really? A black kid falls into a magic washing machine and a chimp dons the ironed clothes that emerge? And then the other kids assume this is the black kid?) No real laughs, no coherent plot, just kids running around and fainting and screaming a lot. Just awful. (I do appreciate one IMDB review: “this film runs a short 55 minutes but I could have sworn it ran a few hours longer.”) Free on Amazon Prime, but the price is too high. $0.

Desperate Cargo, 1941, b&w. William Beaudine (dir.), Ralph yByrd, Carol Hughes, Jack Mulhall, Julie Duncan. 1:07 [1:02]

This is really more of a romantic comedy with a “mystery” thrown in. Two showgirls stuck in the Caribbean get a Broadway job offer and get set to fly home—but, while waiting for the delayed Caribbean Cruiser (a two-deck seaplane with multiple compartments), they get another telegram that the show’s closed. One of them has been dating a newsman—currently on the same island but promised a big job in the Orient if he makes it back in time—and there’s also the future purser for the seaplane involved.

The mystery part is a gang of four planning to rob the seaplane and then burn it to get away. One of the gang tries to hit on the showgirl who’s not dating the newsman (and is attracted to the purser). A fight ensues.

Anyway: lots of action, accusations of gold-digging, various entanglements, and a midair robbery. In the end, of course, it all winds up well, with the newsman and one showgirl engaged and the purser—who’s now a hero, since he foiled the robbery—firmly attached to the other. It’s all fairly cute, and I’d give it $1.50, but the print’s choppy and for a couple of minutes it’s out of registration, so I’ll say $1.25.

The Devil’s Party, 1938, b&w. Ray McCarey (dir.), Victor McLaglen, William Gargan, Paul Kelly, Beatrice Roberts. 1:05.

Four semi-tough kids in Hell’s Kitchen have a club/gang of sorts, with a girl who keeps trying to join. At one point, the group—with the girl along—decide to steal some fruit from a warehouse, and the ruse used to distract the workers sets the warehouse on fire. The kid who set the fire won’t rat out the others and winds up in reform school.

Fast-forward to much later. The reformed kid now runs a Broadway night club with an illicit casino on the side. The girl is now a singer at the club. Two of the other boys—brothers—are now cops in NYPD’s “Emergency Squad” and the last one’s a priest. The group gets together once a year to remember old times (they still have the handmade gang sign); this year, it’s in the private rooms of the club owner.

Meanwhile, the club owner had sent two of his pet thugs to encourage one customer to make good on a gambling loss, and the thugs overdo it to the point of killing the customer, then dropping a sign off the roof to make it look like an accident. Naturally, the cops are sent to check out the scene—and one of them sees that the sign’s supporting rods were cleanly cut, suggesting murder, but the detectives say it was an accident. One thing leads to another, and the cop gets pushed off the roof of the building by the thugs—just another accident.

Lots more plot, as the thugs decide to enlarge their sphere of operations and, in the process, get rid of both the other cop and the club owner. Anyway, with all parties involved, the club owner—who, not unreasonably, considers himself responsible for the first two deaths—winds up dead in the process of protecting the others. Oddly enough, there’s a happy ending of sorts.

It was better than I expected, fast moving, well played, and maybe worth $1.50.

Cites & Insights 19:5 (September 2019) available

Thursday, September 5th, 2019

The September 2019 issue of Cites & Insights (19:5) is now available for downloading at

The 28-page issue–probably the last one that does not feature OA–includes:

The Front pp. 1-4

Two little essays: Why I’m not pursuing an analysis of ROAD, and “should C&I be saved?”

The Middle pp. 4-12

Nine items that didn’t fit elsewhere and don’t deserve the snarky treatment of The Back.


A range of tech-related items, some mostly nostalgia, some still relevant.

Classic 50 Movie Warriors, Disc 5

Sunday, September 1st, 2019

Damon and Pythias (orig. Il tiranno di Siracusa), 1961, color. Curtis Bernhardt (dir.), Guy Williams, Don Burnett, Ilaria Occhini. 1:39.

The plot summary on the sleeve and the one on IMDB cover roughly the last third of the film, and maybe that’s OK. For the first part: the head of the Pythagorean group in Athens has died, and his logical successor is trying to teach the Pythagorean philosophy in Syracuse—and in hiding since the dictator Dionysus regards Pythagoreanism as dangerous, with its friendship and nonviolent ideals. So Pythias goes off to find him and bring him back, and in doing so is first robbed and then aided by Damon, a rogue. Meanwhile, Pythias’ pregnant wife has gone into terminal decline since he’s gone. After lots of adventures, the successor manages to make it to freedom—but Pythias is captured.

From there, the plot actually mostly follows the legend of Damon and Pythias. It’s about friendship, philosophy, and lots of other stuff. It’s reasonably well-done, remarkably free of gratuitous killings, and relatively low on the sort of spectacle that dominates most of these movies. (If you’re a costume enthusiast: almost all the men wear very short tunics, while all the women wear floor-length clothes.) I’d give it $1.00.

Fury of Hercules (orig. La furia di Ercole), 1961, color. Gianfranco Parolini (dir.), Brad Harris, Luisella Boni, Mara Berni, Serge Gainsbourg. 1:37.

A bit more typical. This time, Hercules visits Arpad, one of his old haunts while on an extended journey and finds that his friend the king has died. His daughter, now queen, is trying to build impenetrable walls around Arpad using slave labor—and things are mostly run by the evil Menistus who hopes to kill her and take over as dictators.

Lots of action, all fairly coherent, culminating in a huge revolt combining slaves and rebels. Brad Harris is impressive, and as Hercules he’s even more so. Another one with no cheesecake and even more beefcake, as Hercules’ oversize chest is mostly exposed. Serge Gainsbourg is appropriately sneering and evil as Menistus.

I was somewhat thrown out of the action during the big extravaganza the queen throws in Hercules’ honor. For background music, authenticity doesn’t matter—but when entertainers are dancing to music, it seems a bit odd for the primary instrument to be a piano. The print’s decent, except that the first five or ten minutes suffer from red shift (that is, most colors are shades of red). All things considered, a pretty decent flick; by the relaxed standards used for this set, I’ll say $1.50.

Caesar the Conqueror (orig. Giulio Cesare, il conquistatore delle Gallie), 1962, color. Tanio Boccia (dor.), Cameron Mitchell, Rik Battaglia, Dominique Wilms, Ivica Pajer, Raffaella Carra. 1:44 [1:38]

Instead of mythology, we get history (or at least one portrayal of it), with Julius Caesar (Mitchell) in 54 BC wanting to invade Britain but beset by a rebellious Gaul, led by Vercingetorix (Battaglia). There are also scenes in the Senate (mostly wanting Caesar to show up in person to justify his expenditures), and a fair amount of stuff on Caesar as a person—including an odd extended scene where he’s dictating to three young scribes, apparently dictating two different letters and his treatise on Gaul being divided into three parts, and doing so simultaneously.

And, of course, there are lots of battle scenes with enormous casts of extras, horses, and arrows. Lots of bloodshed, much of it right there on the screen—and, by the way, a double-betrayal, as the third of Gaul’s tribes that Caesar believed he had bribed to support him choose to attack him instead. There’s also a somewhat complicated love story, involving Caesar’s ward Publia (Carra), who’s pledged to one soldier, then used by Caesar to marry a commander to assure his support, then captured by Vercingetorix…and eventually reunited with the soldier.

The bad: lots of red-shift problems, with much of the movie being in various shades of white and red; extreme pan-and-scan, with speaking characters sometimes invisible on one side or the other; occasionally choppy print. The good: a bit more vividly realistic view of battle, with hundreds of people dying badly; pretty good acting on Mitchell’s part and elsewhere; a bit more nuance than one might expect. (If you read the IMDB reviews, be aware that one negative review says this was a French production. As the original title and most of the cast names may indicate, it was typical of these movies in being an Italian production, this time with most outdoor scenes filmed in Serbia.) Overall, given the print problems, it comes down to $1.25.

Son of Samson (orig. Maciste nella valle dei Re, that is, Maciste in the Valley of the Kings). 1960, color. Carlo Campogalliani (dir.), Mark Forest, Chelo Alonse, Vira Silenti. 1:29.

The basic plot line: In the fifth century BC, the Persians are marauding and essentially controlling Egypt, with Pharaoh Armiteo I a weak ruler essentially in the thralls of his young, beautiful, wicked wife Queen Smedes. His son, Kenamun, goes out wandering and encounters Maciste (who says that means “Son of the Rock” although some call him Son of Samson), a phenomenally strong and always shirtless man. Kenamun sees a lion about to attack Maciste and shoots the lion with an arrow—and then Maciste wrestles a second lion into submission or death (unclear). So they’ve saved each others’ lives. Previously, Kenamun had met and fallen for a young woman in a village and vowed to return to her one day.

That’s the start. Lots of marauding Persians, killing the men of a village and enslaving the women; oodles of “blood.” Maciste frees the enslaved women of one village (yes, the same one). Smedes has Armiteo assassinated. Kenamun returns to Memphis…and the evil grand visir has a forgetfulness necklace that causes Kenamun to forget everything and marry Smedes.

Lots more plot. Much Egyptian scenery, including the pyramids. Decent production values. Some humor. A dance/seduction that’s a cross between a Dance of the Single Veil and a vigorous belly dance. All ends well, albeit only after a bunch more deaths. Apparently Mark Forest was actually bodybuilder Lpu Degni.

Widescreeen (very widescreen, 2.35:1), and if your TV can do the expansion, the print’s good enough that it didn’t look bad expanded to fill the width (not the height) of a widescreen TV. Generally good print. Fairly satisfying, almost worth $1.75, but I’ll say—by the relaxed standards for this set–$1.50.