The Cha Cha (or Cha Cha Chá if you're feeling energetic) was the Cuban-inspired dance that caught the world's imagination in the mid 1950s. We were Cha Cha Crazy for it!
Taking its cue from the Mambo, the Cha Cha was a slightly more relaxed affair: slower and less syncopated.
It's name comes from the shuffling sound of the feet as they dance the last three steps: one-two-cha-cha-cha!
However the Cha Cha is anything but a simple dance: hot hop action and a lightness of step is needed to master it.
Enrique Jorrin was the father of the Cha Cha, and in 1953 he and the Orquesta America released the first recorded compositions. The sound swept Cuba, then Mexico and then the world.
Cha Cha fever led to a range of 1950s albums trying to cash in on the new scene. Some took it seriously...
...some not so seriously...
...and some confused it with the polka.
Either way the Cha Cha was the soundtrack of mid-modernity, and no party was complete without it!
Cha Cha is still popular in competition ballroom dancing, though the range of steps required is not something I'll ever master!
Sadly the Cha Cha was overshadowed in 1962 by the Twist, and soon it faded from popularity. It was what your parents did at weddings to show off, not what the young folks wanted to strut 'in da club.'
But latin dancing will never die, and wherever people gather to drink mojitos, wear slit skirts and listen to good music the Cha Cha will always be there.
Enrique Jorrin - pulp salutes you!
(Pulp tip: always wear stockings when dancing. It stops you overheating #truedat)
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Today in pulp: the searing, evocative power of a well crafted opening sentence!
For this thread I will draw my examples from the greatest writer* in the English language: the Reverend Lionel Fanthorpe.
(*based on synonym use)
On death:
"Bellenger was dead when they found him. That Bellenger was dead was probably the understatement of the year. Bellenger was horribly, violently dead!"
On crowds:
"The crowd had to be seen to be believed. There are crowds and crowds but this was the crowd to end all crowds. Never, perhaps ever before in the whole of human history had there been such a massive congregation. Such a teeming of humanity."
Today in pulp I look at time travel. It's full of paradoxes but there's one we rarely explore: does it break the Law of Conservation of Energy?
Let’s investigate…
Time travel is a staple of pulp science fiction and it often involves a paradox: changing history, killing your grandfather, creating a time loop etc. Solving the paradox, or realising too late that one is happening, is half the fun of these stories.
Thinking about the nature of time is also fun. Does it exist or is it emergent? It is a local or global event? How many dimensions does it come in? Why is there an ‘arrow of time’? There are many possible answers.
"I wanted a mission. And for my sins they gave me one."
"Your mission is to proceed up the Nung River by Navy patrol boat, pick up Colonel Kurtz's path at Nu Mung Ba, infiltrate his team by whatever means available... and terminate the Colonel's command."
People who feel they have no voice can have a powerful creative spark, sometimes born of suffering or solitude. Mostly it's hidden, but in the 20th century it began to be admired, celebrated, and even perhaps exploited.
Let's look at the story of 'Outsider Art'...
Outsider Art, Art Brut, Visionary Art, Naïve Art: nobody has really settled on a name for artworks made by untrained artists which express a raw, energetic experience of the world. It's art from a different perspective, demanding to be heard.
Outsider Art began to be recognised in 1911 by Der Blaue Reiter group of artists in Munich. The group was short-lived but influential: fundamental to Expressionism and admiring of artworks created by people struggling with their mental health.