The Last Days of Michael “Aleister” Tierney… aka “Joe Blow”
Part Duex: A history in briefs.
Op/Ed by Jeremy “cold and hard” Steele.
“With friends like you, who needs friends?” – Michael Tierney
“To understand this conundrum of a Crowley we will have to Dig”-
Robert Anton Wilson.
Quentin Tarantino is known for having resurrected a few careers (Personally, I didn’t mind John Travolta bouncing out of mainstream retirement with “Pulp Fiction”, but I would’ve
preferred him going right gone back into retirement, afterwards).
In “Reservoir Dogs” Lawrence Tierney role’s of ringleader (his biggest since “Dillinger” in the 40s- a film worth watching, btw) brought him back into the arms of Hollywood again, over 50 years after numerous off-screen bar brawls and antics had more or less forced him out of tinsil-town, reducing his roles from leading man to occasional bit parts and virtual obscurity.
In Larry’s own words he admits that he “threw away about seven careers through drink.”
According to Larry’s nephew Michael (aka “Joe Blow” aka “Aleister Crowley Returns!”), Larry gave Michael the advice to “die young and leave a good looking corpse”.
Wikipedia’s profile narrarates Tierney as “known for his many screen portrayals of mobsters and hardened criminals, which mirrored his own frequent brushes
with the law”.
So, it’s no wonder that Larry and and his nephew Michael were bonded by more than just blood. Michael believes (as he has stated) he was the “Most evil man alive” in his past life,
while strangely, Larry with his bald head, actually looked a lot more like Aleister Crowley (in his later years especially) than Michael ever has or will, plus Larry seemed
to really have the devil in him, throughout his life!
Michael, my “old friend” since 1993, once shared with me a secret that very few knew until now. Following the commercial success of Reservoir Dogs which put Larry back in the limelight and brought him back to Mainstream Hollywood, the stress of events caused a murder attempt…
Michael was Larry’s acting manager. And knowing Michael as I do, I would guess he was tactlessly badgering and bossing Larry in his elitist, controlling way, about his behaviors, demanding he get control of himself, and seeking to handle an untamable familial force…
Suddenly, at the pique of a heated exchange, Larry picked up his gun and fired it at Michael… just like out of a mad movie.
Larry missed. Petrified, in shock and beyond words, Michael stood there near witness to his own death.
Soon after Larry profusely apologized and Michael never pressed charges.
Rewards came for Michael’s loyalty. After Lawrence died in 2002, Michael (not any of Larry’s 3 kids, btw) inherited Larry’s residuals, which Michael still lives off of (accrued mainly through the “Dogs” role).
That year, I was instrumental in helping set up Larry’s funeral/birthday party (his birth and expiration date were about the same time) for which Michael expressed profuse appreciation to me for organizing (saying “I love you, man”). This was not the first and hardly the last thing I would do for Michael.
But “what are friends for?”. Of course, in regards to Michael, this is a question I’ve
in retrospect, asked myself repeatedly, and always without a satisfactory answer.
And as the years went on, I would one day quip to him, in utter disgust, in regards to his completely selfish, self-absorbed and manipulative character, that he has never given back for all that’s been given to him, and that it’s no wonder Larry tried to shoot him.
And now, my sentiment has been modified to having disappointment that Larry missed!
And this is profoundly sad in more ways and levels then I can say. For years, I considered him a friend, and for you to understand why, lets revisit…
The Beginning: A brief History between Mr. Empty (in the dark) and Me…
We met as “Extras” in Hollywood on a show called “Rock- Live” in 1993. The only memory I have that show, whatsoever, was standing behind the curtain watching the lead actor pacing nervously right before the curtain was to open and the show about to start, and also meeting Michael. He was passing out photo-copies of an article he wrote for the Whole Life Times, titled “Why CDs Kill Music”.
At this point, I felt an instant kinship with whoever this guy was, because this was the first time I had actually read something which addressed the issues I had with compact discs replacing analog vinyl and cassette recordings.
Without getting into the whole subject, which can easily be an article in and of itself, sound is vibration, which can only be transferred, not intellectually reinterpreted with a computer grid that artificially re-creates the soundwave as a staircase, instead of analog’s transference of an organic vibratory flow. That’s why records have warmth, texture, nuances, subtlties and fill up the room compared to the flat C.D., which recreates sounds with 1’s and 0’s. From the physical process of cutting an L.P., to the point where it is played to the listener by a physical needle running and vibrating it back, it retains an organic symmetry.
Anyway, whether you understand or agree with what I’m barely touching on is not important in regards to this write-up. Michael’s article quoted Neil Young’s “Digital is a huge rip-off” article. And to that, Michael added, that “Making music is an alchemical process”, “The nature of music is vibration… which creates sound waves that
effect us emotionally, intellectually and physically”, with “a myriad of overtones
which also effect on very subtle levels…” Where as through digital sound,
“we lose all emotional, spiritual and physical connection to the original performance”…
Yes, as a stubborn album collector stuck in the digital age, I was definitely diggin’ it! Soon, I was the biggest champion of the cause, hopeless as it was in a world where commercial sponsors control their airwaves, and erroneously promoting digitally “mastered” C.D.s as “perfect music”.
I scotch-taped copies of his and other related articles that I made at local record shops, spreading the holy, but rarely heard, word. As the digital revolution was all consuming, we stood as adherants to an orthodox religion of sorts. I myself, owned well over 1,000 albums at the time and was (and am still) a collector.
One day, being the first time Michael invited me to hang out with him, I rode with him to pick up a couple of girls and a guy, and we were driven to a house in L.A. where everyone there was openly doing various kinds of hardcore recreational drugs. I was told that this was some kind of unofficial designated place that cops and authorities knew about, visited by all sorts and levels of people, but which was left alone due to political connections, as a sort of “zone of tolerance” or something.
So, I was sitting there, calmly, not doing any drugs, just talking with one of the girls who came there with us, when all of a sudden “WHAAMM!!” The back of my head got elbowed hard!! Following this attack came Michael’s voice from behind and above me yelling,
“What the hell are you doing? I hear you’re acting crazy, bothering girls in here”! I realized it was Michael who hit me.
I quickly got up, people rushed in to separate us. He looked a little drug- crazed. I angrily yelled something at him and then he wandered off. Soon, I insisted on getting the hell out of there ASAP and leaving. And that was the last time I would hang out with him for a few years. It also caused me to speak to him a lot less often.
Soon after that incident, I called him and brought up the subject of his attack upon me, which he claimed to have had no memory of it. So, I dropped it.
A few years later, in mid to late 1996, after I had already got into porn, I got a phone call from Michael. He told me he was thinking about shooting a porn scene and was interested in perhaps hiring me. I thought this was strange, as I never told him I got into porn,
as we weren’t talking much.
So I said to him, “Why me?”, and he said he had wandered into Jim South’s World Modeling, posing as a wannabe porn producer and looking through the talent books, when he saw my photos. Soon, I discovered Michael was a major porno afficianado. He asked if I worked with this girl, that girl. Some I knew of, some I had worked with (which he asked me what was like), and others he asked me about I never knew or heard of. Even though I was in the industry (a much smaller one at the time than it is now), he knew much more about all the females in the biz than I did.
The porn scenes he would finally shoot of me and some girls I acquired did not happen for many years later, but once he knew I was a porn performer he started talking to me more regularly, asking me who I banged, listening to my stories and such. He’d invite me over to hang out with him at his nice apartment on Sierra Bonita near Sunset, from time to time.
And it was around this time Michael revealed to me he was an expert in astrology, a subject of interest to me, and that he could print out and analyze full pie-charts based on placement of planets in signs, houses, aspects, etc at exact time and place of birth.
He also introduced me to his “Inner Guide Meditation” and it’s founder, Ed Steinbrecher,
(author of the book by the same name) who I had visited several times and have recorded
personal conversations with. It was from that center that I also bought a personal entire astro chart which I still have to this day, which accompanied a personal reading and meditation intiation. After my experience with the center, it was the astrology in particular, not their particular brand of meditation that appealed to me. I’m recognized as what’s called a “Double Alien”, because my outer planets Uranus and Pluto are conjucted my natal Sun at birth.
I was also introduced to an artist living there, named David Benge, who’s “talisman art” as I called it, I became a collector of (I spent $1,250 on two pieces in 1996 which I still have on my walls, today). I call it “talisman art” because it, especially one piece in particular I bought, seemed to have a strong power pouring from it, grabbing me literally by the gut area. The artist did say after my confessed experience of it, that he meditates on each piece and that the piece I picked was a particularly powerful piece for me, based on my astrological make-up I had. Yeah, I know this is all crazy sounding stuff, but I dug it… and these were the cosmic roots of Michael and mine’s bond as “friends”.
And as years went on I would eventually introduce him to girls in porn, including ex- roommates of mine, Taylor Rain and Frankie La Rue, to Brandon Iron, who he made money doing business with for years, before I formally introduced him into the world of porn.
But in the end, for all I ever did for him, I would never get anything but a public thank you, following his official final-final retirement from porn. And in lieu of his moving to his hired honeys in Thailand, Michael got rid of all his stuff, including all his albums which numbered about as many as mine.
When he told me had gotten rid of all his albums, I astonishingly asked why he never called me before getting rid of them, since he knew I was a big collector and his biggest champion back in the day. His answer was simply he never thought of it.
That was the thanks for all the times I got him laid, off camera and on… and mucho dinero I guided him to making, in addition to everything else I did for him over the years.
It was at this point that there were no shadows of doubts in my head whatsoever that Michael Tierney really was a thoughtless, completely self-absorbed piece of shit.
But more on the industry, the ladies I introduced him to, our friendship, roommate relationship and our business non-ventures together, in our next installment!