Hey folks, Harry here... I'm drunk. I've spent a great day with friends from around the world - drinking heavily and sort of forgetting about all the troubles of the world and the pressures of a tenth BUTT-NUMB-A-THON and I come home - head for the bathroom and my wife says, "AWWW FUCK!" - I say, "What sweetie?" -- -- "BETTIE PAGE DIED"

Wow. On my birthday, this day that I celebrated so awesomely with so many, one of my icons has fallen. I've known BETTIE PAGE as an icon of cult beauty for as long as I can remember. My parents and their friends often spoke of her... and then when OLIVIA and DAVE STEVENS (god rest his soul) put her into the mainstream of cult iconography... Then Joe Johnston and the impossibly lovely Jennifer brought her imagery to life in THE ROCKETEER - and then BETTIE PAGE herself was found to be alive. For years she was rumored to have died, but in reality - she was just living in anonymity, not rich, not getting rich off of her imagery, but then... then she was reborn into a mainstream of cult beauty.

There's no mainstream movies with BETTIE PAGE. But I do have posters of her, most notably TEASERAMA which came out in her heyday - Then in the mid to late nineties the Rock Poster industry played with the iconography of Bettie Page. I remember talking at length about her with Frank Kozik when he lived here in town about the perfection of her look... the glee and innocence to her debauchery. The sweetness of her sadomasochism.

BETTIE PAGE will never die as an icon. Her image has been burnt into the consciousness of the mainstream... be it the hosiery or the leopard print one piece. Be her bound of her spanking, Bettie Page is an image burnt into our minds and carried forever. She left her mark, be it a hand print on the ass of an anonymous tartlet, or simply a smile on our faces.

Bettie Page, wherever you are... I love you and always will...