Tag: reggie bender

ANDY WARHOL directs BENDER in 1982 music video

Warhol is already on the set, to direct Bender’s video: “DOPPELGANGER,” Warhol is wearing a black cashmere suit, a paisley tie, a silver blonde-platinum wig and sunglasses. Reggie arrives wearing black cashmere suit, paisley tie, a blonde-platinum wig and sunglasses. To Andy Warhol, it’s like looking into a mirror, Warhol is terrified. Reggie explains to Warhol, “I’m a parallel or distorted duplication of what already exists.” Reggie insists his concept will make a brilliant video. The cameras begin filming and, as random probability would have it, BOB DYLAN shows up riding his motorcycle. Dylan, angry about Warhol’s past abuse towards ...

REGGIE BENDER appears on AUSTIN CITY LIMITS

Feb. 4th, 2016 REGGIE BENDER made a TV appearance on AUSTIN CITY LIMITS. Executive Producer of the TV show, Terry Lickona, and PBS knew Bender’s performance might be strange; but they were not prepared for Bender to sing a “lecture” on quantum mechanics, parallel universes, theoretical physics and badly brewed tea.

Time, Events & Quantum Physics

“Reggie ponders sipping tea, our existence, quantum physics, and the chaos and order of TIME.”

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The Holidays Are Here

The holidays are, once again, upon us Earthlings. I consider “the holidays” a big interruption in my life. Who knows? The upcoming holidays may intrude upon my next psychotic break! I am a recluse, a true misanthrope, and never attend holiday gatherings. I decline all invites. We live in strange places: each in a universe of our own. The people with whom we populate our universes are the shadows of whole other universes intersecting with out own.

Our Planet Earth

I am a true misanthrope. I dislike the entire species of Homosapiens. I like certain individuals but, as a species, I despise the entire human race (myself included.) We should give the planet Earth back to the animals. They treat the planet nicely. They deserve it. To add to the problems of giant oil spills into our oceans (as clusters of sea otters claw their eyes out because the oil stings), we have white-collar greed, brutal home invasions, hunger, poverty, murder, etc. We also have fanatical male terrorist SUICIDE BOMBERS to contend with: These crazy-ass, horny fellows believe if they blow themselves up (wearing their groovy suicide-bomb-vests), and take out many innocent bystanders, they will go to their afterlife and get 72 virgins EACH! What if those 72 virgins turn out to be dudes?

This Is Not My Green Shirt

“This Is Not My Green Shirt” is a song I wrote and which appears on The Giddy Statues’ concept album, “NO STARCH” (released 1967). The entire subject matter, of this concept LP, is my wardrobe and dry-cleaning. To my surprise, this song became a single and hit the U.K. charts at #10. A true-life trauma that happened in 1967: The dry-cleaners LOST MY GREEN SHIRT! I have never gotten over this loss. I was, recently, at my psychiatrist and told him about the deep grief I still feel over the loss of my green shirt. He expounded to me about the grieving process, etc. He suggested I continue counseling and to join a support group. “A Support Group for people who have lost clothes?” I responded. “OK, I’ll give it a go.”

My Tea Is Cold

“My Tea Is Cold” (released 1965), written by me and performed with my band, THE GIDDY STATUES, was the first song that charted in the U.K., #17. I wrote the song based on a true-life incident that ruined my day. The experience took place in an East End London diner. The apathetic waitress served me my cuppa hot tea, sauntered away towards the swinging double-kitchen doors, and continued flirting with the busboy. I stared at my cuppa “hot” tea. Oh! The anticipation of that first glorious sip! I took my first sip and to my shock: “cold cup of tea” syndrome. “Sod it!” I screamed. “My tea is bloody cold!” I have never gotten over this incident and, since I’m now learning Social Media for music, recently made a short video of this experience.

God’s Final Message To His Creation

I had been on the Alien Humanoid Bug People’s planet, Kakrafoon, for 2 weeks. The expected me to feel exhilarated after my battle with “The Great Exterminator” I was considered a galactic hero. I had saved my planet Earth and the entire Universe. However, they sensed my dark depression, my feeling of hopeless, my bleak despondency, and my craving a proper cupppa tea. “Why the bloody hell do we need to have the organic life-form experience? We’re all going to die anyway. Can’t we skip the part of being forced to be born, living on some planet to experience tragedy, poverty, aggravation, and The IRS?”

My Battle with “THE GREAT EXTERMINATOR”

As “The Great Exterminator” slithered closer, I could now see his cavernous mouth. His teeth: sharper than steak knives. His complexion was the ash gray of death (a few brown spots here and there on his slimy body). His nose was dripping with gelatinous yellow streaked snot. He smelled of raw sewage, rotten fish, and chunks of stale milk, urine, and disinfectant. He emitted such a sickening odor, I was about to faint or vomit, or both. I had to hold my nose. It knew “motion” was only an illusion, so this thing was the slowest moving entity in space. This could be to my advantage.