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Eartha Kitt is "Going White," and Marlon Brando is Hellbound with Stalin: The Internet Only Wishes It Were As Bitchy As 1955's Rave magazine

Your Crap Archivist brings you the finest in forgotten and bewildering crap culled from basements, thrift stores, estate sales and flea markets. I do this for one reason: Knowledge is power.


Rave: The Magazine of Intimate Expose

Author: Gay-baiting, breast obsessed,  utterly degenerate/hilarious pretend moralist "Peter Hamilton"

Date: October, 1955

Discovered at: Antique shop

The Cover Promises: That Gretta Garbo "loathes" America, the country that invented Russian Roulette.

Representative Quotes:

"When Marlon Brando taps on those Pearly gates and mumbles at St. Peter that he wants in, the reception he'll get will be about as warm as the one St. Pete recently gave the late Josef Vasily Stalin." (page 22).

"If we are wrong, there's no doubt about it: we'll have pulled the publishing goof of the decade. We repeat: DEBBIE AND EDDIE WILL NOT MARRY." (page 4)

Like the Fox News hosts who denounce spring break lasciviousness while filling the screen with looped images of wet t-shirt action, the scandal rag Rave enjoys nothing more than taking a good, long, hand-in-pants stare into the very vices it purports to oppose.

On one page, Rave is shocked that Debbie Reynolds and Eddie Fisher would dare "mock" the institution of marriage. Not only does Rave suspect the romance was unconsummated and publicist-dictated, Rave suggests of Debbie, in bold, "maybe she was UNINTERESTED in boys."

But just a few pages later, Rave sneers at buxom sexpot Jane Russell for insufficient sexiness, comparing her to "a painted female impersonator who stuck one too many pillows down the front."

"Acres of flesh," Rave sniffs, "but not one pebble of oomph."

Rave blasts her "shoddy bumps and grinds" onscreen and claims "Her bossman, Howard Hughes, has spent countless zillions of bucks publicizing her 38-inch bustline. Still the guys who know Miss Russell best, off-screen, consider her a 38-carat nothing."

Nastier still:

"One of the best estimates of Janie was made by a Hollywood wit the time he was conned into watching a private screening of that all-time celluloid turkey, The Outlaw. 'My God!' he cried, as the camera dollied majestically in on her billowing bosom. 'They forgot to milk her!'"

Then, much like US magazine suddenly lashing out at its cash-cow Angelina Jolie's parenting,

Rave makes with the fake morals. Here Hamilton contemplates what Russell's husband, ex-football player Bob Waterfield, must feel about her close relationship a "gal pal":

"It is pleasant to imagine that Bob, like Rave, simply thumbed through his well-worn Bible and philosophically muttered that of such palship or something is paved the way to heaven-- or somewhere."

Compare "Marlon Brando: The World's Worst Lover" to the beach-body roundups of today's mostly afraid scandal rags (helpfully tracked by Jezebel each week), and you'll see that Rave's claim of being "unafraid" stands. It's hard to imagine Hamilton softballing celebrities in exchange for baby pictures.

Taking on Eartha Kitt, Rave dishes dirt TMZ and Perez Hilton wouldn't dare:


(Note that, in Rave's goofy photo, Kitt's head is proportioned like a Pez dispenser's.)

Other unafraid Rave claims:

  • Marlon Brando desecrated a church.

  • On a flight home from Europe, Groucho Marx listed his occupation on a customs form as "smuggler." Later, when delayed for hours by officials, he stage-whispered to his then wife, "What did you do with the opium?"

  • "Why Garbo Loathes America" offers this astonishing caption.


  • From "Noel Coward: Las Vegas' Queerest Hit": "The average, ordinary American has never heard of Noel Coward. Ordinarily, we'd consider that fact the average, ordinary American's good luck and leave Mr. Coward dancing solitary minuets with the other sprites in the garden."

  • Clowns detest circus tyrant John Ringling North, "the fop of the big top."


  • In "Who is America's Hammiest Actor,"Rave subscribers - most of whom write in the exact purple, biting prose of Hamilton-- go on the attack. Arthur Lewis of Ohio on Tony Curtis: "He touches peaks of hamminess that demonstrate that here, truly, is a ham to the smokehouse born."

     Here's R. J. Hill on Jimmy Stewart:


  •   And here's why Russian Roulette is dangerous.


Shocking Detail:
Hamilton didn't limit his hatred to the wealthy and beautiful. He also had it in for his readers, who reciprocated on a letters page so hostile it predicts internet comment threads.

When not assailing soldiers, Rave suggests readers lobotomize themselves.
(For masochists, the full letters page is here and here.)

"Is Ava Gardner an Unnatural Narcissist?"
Find out -- back issues ran just a quarter!


The Crap Archivist lives in Kansas City, where he originates his on-line Studies for the Voice's sister paper, The Pitch.

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