"We're supposed to hear this," listless, mink-coated king Crispin whines to no one in particular, leaning over a portable turntable and anointing Johnny Rebel's redneck blues "Some Niggers Never Die (They Just Smell That Way)." Beside him, an arcadian forest nymph wearing a monkey mask squats on a watermelon and masturbates a bespectacled nude man in a giant clamshell while a porcelain Shirley Temple looks down from a kitschy white cloud. No wonder she's... More >>>