Rave: The Magazine of Intimate Expose
Author: Gay-baiting, breast obsessed, utterly degenerate/hilarious pretend moralist “Peter Hamilton”
Promises: That Gretta Garbo “loathes” America, the country
that invented Russian Roulette.
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).
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.”
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.”
of flesh,” Rave
sniffs, “but not one pebble of oomph.”
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
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.
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:
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
Garbo Loathes America” offers this astonishing caption.
Clowns detest circus tyrant John Ringling North, “the fop of the
“Who is America’s Hammiest Actor,”Rave
– most of whom write in the exact purple, biting prose of
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:
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.)
More:Studies in Crap