This is Bogdanovich's 3rd film but the first in which he was responsible for what's on screen from start to end. His first movie, VOYAGE TO THE PLANET OF PREHISTORIC WOMEN, (based on a night out in Brechin perhaps) was actually a recutting and dubbing of the Russian sci fi film STORM PLANET. Producer extraordinaire Roger Corman had bought the rights to the picture so, as he was renowned for giving hungry young filmmakers a break (we NEED a Corman in Scotland) gave the eager Bogdanovich the task of redubbing the picture into English, shooting some extra scenes with cave girls in clam shell bras and basically creating a whole new, but utterly awful movie. So bad in fact he went by the pseudonym Derek Thomas in an attempt to forever distance his name from it. All the bad press (and there's LOTS of it) makes me want to see it.

His second, and far superior effort was the 1968 film TARGETS. Corman was again involved in this production which led to a few conditions for the director. Firstly, he had to use stock footage from the 1963 picture, THE TERROR, which Corman himself directed. Secondly, he had to hire legendary horror actor Boris Karloff for 2 days as he owed Corman some time on his contract. Bogdanivich managed to satisfy both demands to brilliant effect and produced a hugely enjoyable movie. More on that later.

THE LAST PICTURE SHOW is a coming of age tale set in a tiny Texas town that has the appearance of a place not evolved or improved since the days of the early settlers, this despite the film being set in 1951-52.

Bogdonovic was meticulous in setting up a genuine aesthetic for this picture. The cinematography of Robert Sutees creates a starkness of space that compliments the barren expanse within the minds of the townspeople. I have to stress; this is not through a lack of intelligence. The town seems to have a hold on the people that remain there. They're all searching for someone to call their own, someone who provides a basic level of contentment, but with such a minute population to choose from, massive compromises are made to ward off the threat of being alone. There's also no score in the movie. All the musical elements are provided by practical means: a radio that happens to be on for instance, or by someone putting a tune on the juke box. Bogdanovich was insistent that the music only be from the period of the film or before, all in the name of authenticity.

Sonny Crawford

The search for stability is the driving force of all the pictures main characters. Duane Jackson (Played by a very young Jeff Bridges) has the best looking, or the single good looking girl in town Jacy Farrow. (Cybil Shepherd in her first role) Jacy does not reciprocate his feelings leaving the boy in a constant state of confusion and frustration that leads to him leaving town. Jacy herself has no clue what she wants. Being pretty, she has her choice but when the guy she wants gets married, she has to find another man quick for fear of ending up on the scrap heap. She has a liaison with the man her mother is having an affair with then ends up with Sonny Crawford, Duane's best friend but again, this is not without upset. Sonny has a confusing search throughout the picture. Timothy Bottoms plays the part incredibly as Sonny goes from disappointment to disappointment but remains resolute and dignified. The strong writing brings a recognisable conclusion to everyone's journey although not all are successful.

Jacy Farrow

This is a picture of huge complexity considering the setting and people we are dealing with. The human condition is delicately explored with the subtle strengths and weaknesses of the individuals being gently explored with great skill.

The film won 2 Oscars for the great supporting cast and was nominated for another 5. It was also the catalyst for the coming together of Bogdanovich and Cybil Shepherd, a famous Hollywood scandal.

My first exposure to the Maysles brothers work was about 15 years ago via a horrifically fuzzy VHS copy of the 1970 film GIMME SHELTER which featured The Rolling Stones notorious concert at the Altamont speedway in 1969. This is a gripping piece of documentary. Not only does it display what can go wrong when you hire the Hell's Angels to do your security (Who's idea was that?) but it also documents the end of the Hippy era. There was no free love at Altamont, only bad acid and outpourings of violence which in some cases, proved fatal.

Two years earlier they'd been in slightly less drug crazed company to make the documentary SALESMAN. For anyone who's had to sell anything in their time (I certainly have) this film feels as relevant today as it did when it was made. The pressures that go with the job, the frequently uncomfortable interactions with the general public as you try to get money out of them face to face and the destructive effect of losing your belief are all on show in this gloriously honest picture.

The movie follows 4 salesmen round the United States. They're in the bible business which means the word of god can be paid up at $1 a week. Like any sales environment, there are people who are more successful than others and it's this competition, disguised as an honourable effort to spread the word of god, which is the most interesting element.

The clip below shows Paul, the films main protagonist and character having most trouble with the job, out on a couple of sits. Look out for the way he tries to turn people around, the faces of the people being sold to are especially wonderful. I watch this and immediately think of Jack Lemmon in the film GLENGARRY GLEN ROSS. You wonder if he watched this picture while preparing to bring Shelley "The Machine" Levene to life.

Los Stones llevaban desde abril del 67 sin subirse a un escenario y aún más, desde julio del 66, sin presentarse en vivo al público americano. En esta gira rodaron durante el mes de noviembre del 69 de oeste a este de los USA y contaba con el aliciente añadido de presentar nuevo guitarrista, Mick Taylor, que había sustituido a Brian Jones poco antes de su muerte.

Ofrecieron un repertorio que se componía básicamente del Beggars banquet de 1968 y del recién estrenado Let it bleed y se hicieron acompañar por Terry Reid, B.B. King, que fue sustituido en algunas actuaciones por Chuck Berry, y Ike and Tina Turner.

El 7 de noviembre iniciaron el Tour en la Universidad Estatal de Colorado y lo concluyeron 23 días después en el Miami Pop Festival, en West Palm Beach (Florida). Entre medio actuaciones a lo largo de los USA, destacando los dos pases diarios que dieron en Los Ángeles, Oakland, Champaign (Illinois), Chicago, New York y Boston. Casi todos los escenarios elegidos eran de pequeño o mediano aforo.

Fue un éxito rotundo, lo que motivó que quisieran despedirse a lo grande.

Aquí empezarían los males y los problemas.

Apenas finalizada la gira, Mick Jagger anuncia un gran evento de despedida para el fin de semana del 6 y 7 de diciembre. El lugar escogido, el Golden Date Park de San Francisco. Sin embargo las autoridades municipales deniegan el permiso pues no querían en su ciudad un evento que, como se venía anunciando, iba a ser de la envergadura del Festival de Woodstock.

Pese a todo, Jagger no se amilina y comunica que se van a presentar por sorpresa en otro lugar que no revela. Este sitio era el Sears Point Raceway, pero tampoco se acaba de concretar pues hay problemas con los derechos de la grabación del film que desde el inicio de la gira se venía haciendo.

Al final, se decide llevar el concierto a otro circuito de coches en Altamont, al norte de California. La ubicación definitica se dio a conocer el jueves 4 d diciembre, sólo dos días antes de su celebración, algo que no parece muy lógico, pues, como acabó demostrándose, era demasiada premura para preparar un evento de esta magnitud. El Altamont Speedway Free Festival, no obstante, parecía imparable.

Para acabar de liar el asunto, los Rolling Stones deciden encargar la seguridad de acto a los Hell's Angels (Ángeles del Infierno) con quienes ya habían trabajado poco antes en Hyde Park en Londres sin producirse incidentes.

Parece ser que fueron los miembros de otro grupo invitado al Festival, Grateful Dead, quienes aconsejaron su contratación, algo que ellos hacían de forma habitual.

Sin embargo se iba a quebrar ese día la racha de actuaciones vigiladas por los Ángeles del Infierno que transcurriesen de forma pacífica.

El cartel del Festival incluía, por este orden, a Santana, Jefferson Airplane, Flying Burrito Brothers y Crosby, Stills, Nash and Young.

Tal y como se observa en Gimme Shelter, documental que recoge esta gira y, en consecuencia, este Festival, los problemas con los moteros seguratas no tardaron en comenzar.

La cosa se fue de madre ya durante la actuación de Jefefrson Airplane. Lo que empieza siendo una excesiva presencia de Hell's Angels sobre el escenario, que medía menos de metro y medio de alto, acaba siendo una invasión en toda regla. Los Ángeles del Infierno arrojando objetos al público desde arriba, repartiendo palos abajo, paseando con las motos entre el público y la banda tratando de mantener el tipo y tocando hasta que resulta del todo imposible. En ese momento, cuando la música para, el guitarrista primero y la cantante después, se dirigen a los Hell's Angels. Uno de ellos coge el micrófono y les rebate. Suenan palabras gordas por ambas partes. Como vuelve a ser replicado por el grupo, agrede a otro miembro de Jefferson Airplaine, Marty Blain.

Así las cosas, quienes habían recomendado la contratación de los Ángeles del Infierno, por 500 dólares y bebida , Grateful Dead, deciden pirarse.

Con The Rolling Stones en escena la cosa, lejos de suavizarse, va a más. Mientras suena Simpaty for the devil, una vez más con el escenario invadido de moteros seguratas, abajo entre la gente los tortazos y puñetazos van que vuelan de parte de la seguridad del acto. La banda debe dejar de tocar y hacer un llamamiento a la paz y al orden.

Al compás de Under my thumb, se desata la tragedia. Un muchacho de color de 18 años, Meredith Hunter, es apuñalado y apalizado hasta su muerte por los Ánfeles del Infierno. Esto ocurre delante de las narices de la banda, a escasos metros del escenario. Su asesino, Alan Passaro, fue absuelto tiempo después al haber esgrimido el fallecido una pistola y considerar el juez que se trataba, por ello, de un acto de legítima defensa.

Ni qué decir tiene que con la muerte de Meredith se dio por concluido el Festival.

Además de él, fallecieron tres personas. Dos en accidente de coche y otro al caer a una zanja de drenaje.

Gimme Shelter.

[googlevideo=http://video.google.es/videoplay?docid=8944701190949142773&ei=I9HUSNeIGImuiAKSlpXBAg&q=Gimme+Shelter.&hl=es]

As of yesterday, the primaries are wrapped up, and the general election has officially begun.   While I expect many, many great songs to be produced between today and the first Tuesday in November, now is the time to buy this very special retrospective collection--America's (the Country, not the Band's) 2008 Primary Election's Greatest Hits!!!

You simply must own this album.  Otherwise, you might forget about such wonderful moments such as these...

Although she didn't win, Hillary had a lot of enthusiastic supporters who put eighteen million cracks in the glass ceiling (and it's about to start raining shards into the hearts of the American people).

Some of those noble supporters strapped on their dancin' shoes and performed this classic number, which answers the question that's been running through many a head for many a year--what if, in a Star Trek "Mirror, Mirror" universe, Jackson Five patriarch Joe's opposite was Pat Boone?  And what if Pat Boone had been a Democrat, making it even more opposite? Well, the end result might have sounded a little something like this:

Senators Clinton and Obama had a very close race.  Some very nasty people have posited that negative reaction to this song may have provided Obama with the edge he needed he pull it out--music does have that sort of power, you know.  However, I haven't seen any good, solid polling to prove that, so I dismiss the possibility.

Meanwhile, on the other side of the aisle, no one created any songs for Mike Huckabee, Rudy Giuliani, or Mitt Romney (not even Donny & Marie), although there are rumors of an underground concept album devoted to Fred Thompson.  Only one Republican candidate inspired a song of high enough quality enough to break into the general consciousness, and that candidate was the eventual nominee, Senator John McCain:

The McCain Girls would release at least one other song, "Here Comes McCain Again," before being relegated to an undeserved oblivion.  Unfortunately for Senator McCain, his girls turned out to be an illusion, the product of a comedy act rather than sincere supporters.  The blow to his campaign was like a bamboo switch in a prison camp, as the song had inspired millions.

Of course, the breakout hit from the album America's (the Country, not the Band's) 2008 Primary Election's Greatest HitZZ!!1! belonged to will.i.am:

Barack Obama, in his infinite wisdom, so much loved this song about Barack Obama that he put it on his list of top ten favorite songs of all time.  Because Senator Obama is a humble man, it was only ranked number ten, although critics generally agree that it is a much better song than "Gimme Shelter."

will.i.am, like all brilliant artists, realized that the sequel is almost always better than the original, and so created one. However, Senator Obama, being a keen politician, cast forth his gaze upon the vast swathes of filthy humanity set before him and saw that his more fervent supporters were being unfairly maligned as obsessive, cult-like, and a bit creepy, and recognized that people endlessly chanting "O-BA-MA! O-BA-MA!" might reinforce this impression to the bitter, clingy masses, who, sadly, also have the right to vote:

So that his future minions should not become unduly alarmed, and hence vote away their opportunity to become his future minions, Senator Obama kindly requested that will.i.am stop writing Obama songs at a meeting they had near a south-side Chicago bus stop.  Mr .am hasn't been heard from since, but the word from Tony Rezko is that he sleeps with the fishes, which I assume means that he is resting up at his manse whilst enjoying the soothing, gurgling gurgles of his many saltwater aquariums.  He is reputed to be an expert on miniature shark and octopi, and quite the collector thereof.

Another possibly over-enthusiastic Obama supporter was Ludacris.  He was kindly asked to be silent after using a very naughty word that starts with a "B" to refer to Obama's fierce female rival, and inappropriate remarks about the handicaps of Obama's cruelly-tortured-and-crippled-for-life war veteran rival, thereby alienating everyone in America who wasn't named will.i.am or will.c.ayers.

Ludacris was last seen at the same Chicago bus stop, perhaps honing his pitch to become vice-president in an Obama administration.

Returning to the other side of the aisle: Once McCain's nomination had been secured, hip-hop maestro John Rich, of Big & Rich fame, decided to get into the act.  Fearing that he could not compete with the hip-hop masterpieces already unleashed in this magical, mystical primary campaign, he opted for a more rockin' approach.

Despite sounding a lot like the theme song to Monday Night Football, or perhaps because of that, the song was fairly well received by Sean Hannity.  However, millions of Americans wondered, "Where the hell is Cowboy Troy?" (Somewhat shockingly, that question was not asked regarding the whereabouts of "Big.")

Alas, the primaries are now over, but fear not!  Now that the general election has begun, many more musicians have promised to write songs for Senator Obama, and it is quite certain that Senator McCain will have troubadours on his side as well.

To reward any musicians who would like to write songs for his campaign, John McCain has invited all interested to pick up their guitars and banjos and head to the new venture Cindy McCain is opening with her massive millions, John McCain's Hanoi Hilton Huntin' Ranch!  Guests will be treated to a big-game hunt featuring special guests Sarah Palin and Dick Cheney.  It promises to be a lot of fun--however, no phones are allowed, so visiting musicians are advised to tell their loved ones not to worry if they aren't heard from for awhile.

At the same time, Barack Obama has earmarked funds for a giant new bus station in Chicago, and has invited all musicians interested in writing songs for his campaign to the opening ceremony.  Dave Stewart will cut the ribbon.

AmeriKKKa'z (the Country, not the Band'z) 2008 Primary Election'z Greatezt Hitz!!1!!'z is available only now and only through this special On Deaf Ears offer.  Plus, if you order now...

Pick of the Week

In Bruges - You can read my thoughts on this one here so I won't say much more than this is a sterling, well-written and well-acted work.

Also out

Terminator: The Sarah Connor Chronicles - Fairly enjoyable series with excellent central performances, particularly from Lena Headey as the eponymous mother of mankind's hope.
Son of Rambow - Really charming, very enjoyable coming-of-age tale about two young lads remaking First Blood.
REC - Effective if somewhat unfocused Spanish horror. Good lo-fi scares but just a couple of moments where it doesn't quite work.
Gimme Shelter - The Maysles brothers' outstanding Rolling Stones documentary giving us the definitive view of the end of the innocent 60s dream.
My Brother is an Only Child - Not seen but apparently a very decent little Italian film.
The Ruins - Not all that bad horror that I can't really give a full-on synopsis of because that would give away the whole twist.
Zoo - The hugely controversial psuedo-documentary about bestiality. Equally loathed and loved by critics but I've not seen it.

And worse, Joey brought along his 'friends'. Oh yes, he has some. I know, I know. I thought he was joking to. But then I met them. And found that they were about as crazy and PSYCHO as he is. 

I couldn't take any pics during the movie, obviously. But you're probably happy. I know I wouldn't want to watch it. But I didn't have any choice, now did I???

Joey then took me home. I thought the torture was done. Then he pulled out Rock Band.

That was just the beginning. 

Then I found my forte.

After totally rocking 'Gimme Shelter', 'Roxanne', and 'Won't Get Fooled Again', I grew a little tired.

So, today was okay. Mamma Mia was still better. "Mamma Mia! Here I go again! My, my. How can I resist you?" Type singing again. Gosh, I used quotes sarcastically a lot in this post. Quotes are fun, right??? *sigh*

Tyrone

Partly, this is because I've realized that the Beatles/Stones debate is about more than music; it's about your basic philosophy, your outlook on life. The Beatles, of course, are emblematic of that kind of peace, love, and understanding that we always associate with the 60s; as George sings on "Within You, Without You:" "With our love, we could save the world/If they only knew." For the Beatles, the future's out there for our taking, if we can just embrace love and open our minds (with a little help from our friends THC and LSD, if necessary). You never get the feeling that the Beatles are being less than sincere; theirs is ultimately a hopeful vision, reinforced by the music: bursting with life, well-considered and thought out, and experimental but still poppy and rooted in something deeply familiar.

At first, the Stones don't seem to have a comparably unified vision, but that's the trick: their lack of vision IS the vision. Bill Janovitz at allmusic explains it better:

While flirting with ideas of revolution and flower power, usually those moments seemed to be exploitations, as in "Gimme Shelter." Jagger and company never seemed to fully embrace any cause or politics. Rather, they remained aloof, choosing instead to pose as characters. While the Stones obviously felt their music deeply and performed in with authenticity, the listener rarely gets the idea that the lyrics are confessional or even directly autobiographical, which was a divergence from most pop music of the era.

The Stones had the advantage of peaking a few years later than the Beatles and seeing that their revolution failed. Mick's detachedness and the looseness of the Stones's playing (as compared to the Beatles's technical masterpieces and studio wizardry of George Martin) are a result of this, an expression of the cynical attitude that stands opposed to the Beatles's brand of optimism. Mick compares himself to the Devil on "Sympathy for the Devil," but he's more of an Antichrist (the Beatles were "bigger than Jesus"), the opposite of the Beatles's "love can save us" shtick.  

To examine this further, let's take a look at one of my favorite Stones songs: "Salt of the Earth," the last track on 1968's Beggars Banquet. At first glance, this song seems to be a straightforward paen to the working man: "Let's drink to the hard working people/Let's drink to the lowly of birth." Mick and Keith continue singing about the hard working people until the key change in the middle of the song, when it drastically changes tone: "And when I search the faceless crowd/A swirling mass of gray and black and white/They don't look real to me/In fact, they look so strange."

After this, it's clear that the song is ironic. The Stones never suggest any way to help the hard working people they just want to get fucked up on their behalf. The song builds to a choral climax, but it's clearly tongue in cheek, like a parody of "Hey Jude" and the like. As Mick Jagger has said of the song an interview, the lyrics are "total cynicism. I'm saying those people haven't any power and they never will have."

The idea of taking a drink for the salt of the earth points towards the Stones's attitude towards drugs, which also embraces this "total cynicism." Where the Beatles were dropping acid to change the world, the Stones were doing drugs to escape it; as Mick sings on another one of my favorites, "Dead Flowers:" "When you're sitting back/In your rose pink Cadillac/Making bets on Kentucky Derby day/I'll be in my basement room/With a needle and a spoon/And another girl to take my pain away." Their choice of drugs is telling as well: where the Beatles were using mind expanders like weed and acid, the Stones were into heroin, morphine, and pretty much anything else that would dull pain and emotions, not heighten them.

This is ultimately sort of depressing, as the world-weariness of the drug songs (which is all of them) on Sticky Fingers attest to, but it's really the only alternative to the monumental failure of the Beatles's positive outlook and the insufficiency of love and peace and understanding and all that shit in the world. I think I bought the Beatles's thing for a while, but I'm at a point in my life where I can no longer take that stuff seriously, so I've got to go with the Stones. Or at least at a point in my life where I can read waaay too much into pop music. Fuck it all, let's forget it and take a drink for the salt of the earth:

I had another look at that Oracle Gé reading, and I'm glad that I did - it seemed more serious than a computer malfunction to me. So knowing how things go round here, I filled up every available container with water. Candles I already had in abundance. This was a good thing.

A transformer and a reservoir got blowed up REAL good and totally screwed my neighbourhood for water and power late Sunday night. I wouldn't be here now except a light I left on came on (the power is back!), so I woke up (to 164 e-mails, but that's another story).

Not the greatest testimonial, but yup, I'm back. I think I owed someone a reading, if I did, please write to me again!

Take care all -
Chanah

It's Star of the Man (no astrological assignment) + Fire (Mars series) + Inheritance (Jupiter series).

To me this is saying that any rash actions or communication at all is likely to aggravate the situation even worse. I do not see Inheritance as a positive after Fire, and astrologically speaking, Mars and Jupiter getting too cosy tends to lead to holy wars, even if that's not what we call them these days. No matter how righteous you think your cause may be, you're never going to win, not under this auspice.

The police wouldn't get involved with something like this, not in my neighbourhood, and the only likely result is that I'd get beaten up or killed if I did try to involve them. I don't want to go that way, nor do I believe it's worth it. One of the things that's upsetting me as badly is that that particular neighbour used to be the only one around here I could even halfways trust - but grabbing all my cash when I wasn't looking has killed that.

I think that's exactly what this reading is showing; any trust is dead, and it isn't going to come back. Any direct action will fan the flames and cause that last bit of sand in the hourglass to run out even more quickly. It is an ugly combination of cards, and an ugly feeling to match. The only way to deal is to walk away. I am hurt, though I don't hold grudges forever. Still, I'm not going to forget this, and I think I'd be stupid to - but it leaves me even more isolated, and that feels horrible. Not quite horrible enough to be social with someone who would do this to me, though.

I did another reading on how to make money this month, and this one was interesting:

Birth (Sun series), Honours (Sun series), Love (Venus series)

This wouldn't be so weird, except I have been having love kinds of cards coming up all the time. So why does it surprise me to see this card again? I suspect the context is throwing me - and the way it's turning up everywhere, because it is so incongruent with my life these days.

I do think that with two Sun cards and a Venus card it's possible to not starve this month, and a friend sent me some cash by Internet that will provide some food over the next week. I didn't ask, the whole situation felt so awful to me and I hate begging, but I couldn't exactly turn it down, either.

What I think the read means:

Birth - A new project, maybe astrology related? Several people have suggested that I do more card readings on the Net professionally, and use my 'astrological weather forecasts' as a value-added service. These would not be personal charts, but they are pretty good in predicting prevailing moods you'll likely run into, and they're fun to do. And since I do them for myself anyway...

The problem: I SUCK at writing copy for doing readings. Really, really suck at it. Possibly because I've read so many sites that promote readings (and the ebay listings) that make me absolutely cringe. I like writing over here, but I have no idea how to present myself or what I do in sales-copy language.

Honours: It won't be huge amounts of money, but it'll be enough, and mostly I'm seeing Honours here as a warning to not compromise my integrity. Which somehow seems to hark back to the theft.

Love: Friends have helped me, will help. Somebody sent a bit of cash, and a friend registered a domain for me for the site and blog, which I am going to take advantage of. Past that, I'm leaving this one alone. Normally competent to read it, but after the past couple weeks of what I've been seeing in the cards - not touching it. Well, almost not touching it. I do see it as a warning not to get consumed by the flames; not to turn into a skeleton made out of bitterness and ash.

So that's where I am today.

Aside from the sudden pension reduction to $90 per month, the only neighbour I have who used to be somewhat trustworthy (as in the only person around here I'd dare let into the flat) decided that he needed heroin one day last week more than I needed - anything. So he stole the money. All of it. I really can't do anything. The police don't like me because I'm political, and there's always the chance of getting killed for reporting it anyway. So - I'm kind of miserable because I haven't been eating for a while, and won't be, and I hate poverty and I hate the pathos that goes with it worse.

There was also some personal stuff going on that was fairly unhappy, but not new, but that's neither here nor there. The upshot, though, is that I may not be around much this month.

As to whether I'll get the money back, I'd tend to say no, based on the reading I just did:

The cards run Money, Ruin, Star of the Man and pretty much show it all.

Ain't it fun, as Stiv once said.

You've seen my neighbourhood, probably, or pictures of it. Hard to believe something like this is but two blocks away.

Click on any of the small photos - you will need Flash. And enjoy.

This one is not for the faint of heart.

Buy Smokes, Singles

I've worked with Tarot extensively, studied it academically and in readings, and also have two degrees from The Tarot School, which took me about five years to earn. It's not a back-of-the-matchbook-cover diploma mill, and I'd highly recommend the courses offered there. They are outstanding, and Wald and Ruth Ann are delightful and highly knowledgeable folks. That was on top of all the art history, symbolism, literature, critical theory, and theology studies that all blended into tarot at regular university. It's been a big part of my life, and in some ways it probably always will be.

But except for very few occasions, when I'm reading for either myself or somebody else, I'll reach for a Lenormand or Lenormand-style oracle. And I'm not really sure why. Lenormand is far more unassuming than the tarot is, after all, it's simply a quaint deck of 36 playing cards, each bearing a symbol.

My first introduction to Lenormand was in Paris back in 1971 - a few years after I'd discovered the tarot. One of my friends had a flash of insight and said I loved it as much as I do because I'm a language freak - and Lenormand is very much a language. That's definitely part of it, but what about the rest? I decided to ask the cards for some insight.

Mountain + Moon + Child

Interesting reading. The Moon + Child is one of the indications for being psychic. Sometimes I am. Sometimes, to steal a line from a friend, I'm about as psychic as a shoebox. And I have to admit, I do enjoy the way Lenormand works as a predictive oracle.

But there's more to it than that, so lets look a little bit deeper. The Mountain + Moon indicates keeping your feelings hidden from your conscious mind - remember that the Mountain indicates blockages, separations in some cases. In this combination, it's a separation of your feelings from the way you go through day-to-day life (Moon). Sometimes we need to do that to cope, but when it becomes a habit (Moon again), it can be a bad thing indeed.

That day-to-day life thing, that's a key for me. It's where we live. It's where everything happens, even the important things. I grant that such things as peak experiences exist, but for the most part, we simply live. And the cards are saying that a lot of times we live without heart.

But look at the Child in this reading, coming right after the Moon. I think it's saying if we do reconnect with our feelings, then we come away with a sense of new awareness about this ordinary life - and maybe an understanding that it's pretty extraordinary in the final analysis. Moon + Child also shows us fluidity; the way life constantly changes, how there's something always new happening, if we but dare to look - and to feel. It takes us past the block of thinking, feeling, that it's all the same. It shakes us out of our habits a little bit, and makes us really look around - and look inside. Another quality of the Child is friendliness – and the Lenormand is a very approachable deck. You can ask it about anything.

I'm still not quite there yet. I still don't understand the pull entirely. But perhaps this is part of the puzzle. What about you? Why do you read Lenormand, or if you don't read, what is it about the cards that so intrigues you?

Til later -
Chanah

I do a bit of PR work as well, for a small mineral make up company - and I'm always delighted by the pots of coloured powders I receive in the post.

I was really pondering this today - why it makes me, you, so many of us, so unreasonably happy to get these little parcels in the mail. Why do we shop when we're sad, or at least want to shop when we're sad? It seems endemic to our society, and I've not got the worst case of it I've seen by far. So I looked to the Tarot d'Eltynne to see if I could find an answer. The reading is a bit ambiguous, and as always, comments are welcome.

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Support (Jupiter), Star of the Man, Honours (Sun)

Like I said - a bit ambiguous. What does Support mean in this instance? I suppose it could mean that the things we buy support (comfort?) us in some way, or that we buy them to show we can support (comfort?) ourselves. I spent the lion's share of my money on clothing - I've lost a lot of weight since the surgery (this is a good thing - even though the surgery wasn't completely successful, it has calmed the kidney disease down and a whole lot of the waterweight is gone, but - it's left me with nothing that even remotely fits me anymore). Clothes are important. Seems I was writing about that just the other day, and not in an entirely happy way.

So what comes next here? Notice how the eagle of Support looks directly to The Star of the Man. I'm not involved with anyone so it's not that kind of approval I'm seeking, but I do think we could make a fair case that in a reading like this, The Star of the Man can point to wanting approval from one's community at large. Especially when it's followed by Honours.

Honours in this deck isn't on the same level as the Success card. But it does show some progress, however slow. I'm reading it both on a personal level, and as a wish for more acceptance from society in general. Wanting to feel that I've made some progress, wanting other people to see me in a slightly more favourable light than they have been doing (refer to the Why Do I Write post in this blog for more of the scoop on this).

Is it superficial? Partly, no doubt. Partly not. I think we all need some level of support, acceptance, from those around us. And we need to feel that we can indeed, make some progress, or at least appear to be doing so - and one of the most visible signs of that, is, of course - stuff. Material things.

Mercury is retrograde, the Moon is void of course, and this reading isn't entirely deep. I've also broken the cardinal rule of show business: Never be boring. Well, the Moon will be in Libra and out of VOC in another few hours, and hopefully, the interesting stuff will continue then. But tell me - am I the only one who likes getting shiny objects in the post? Do you? And if you do, too - why? Does this reading make sense to you?

So this is how it went:

A bunch of video game designers were sitting around in their awesomeness and went:

"Hey let's invent the greatest party game ever!"

"Okay, how about a game where you play simplified musical instruments collectively as a rock band"

"And we can use popular/totally awesome songs!"

"Cool, and we'll make different difficulties so you can totally show off or if you've never played you'd be okay after two tries!"

"Or even play when you're drunk!"

"Especially if you're drunk!"

"And we could actually make the drums give you some of the same skills needed to drum"

"Not the guitar though"

"No, not the guitar"

"And you wouldn't even really have to know the words! Just the basic tune!"

"And we'll have the vocals real low so people's awful, awful voices don't ruin it!"

"And we could actually teach people the value of pitch since it's the only thing the mic could measure!"

"BAD ASS! LET'S DO IT"

"Dude, be sure Gimme Shelter is one of the songs!"

***

Sure there were 2 versions of guitar hero as the progenitor to this so it was really just the next logical step in the evolution, but I still like this version of the events.

Don't feel sorry for me, please. As most of you know, I've been pretty broke and pretty sick these days. And the past week has been fairly hellish - one of the things my disease does is to blow out your central nervous system, and I'd been coping with not being able to feel my legs, feet, or hands. So, bathing was a little too dicey. Not that it often matters around my neighbourhood - there are people that live outside who don't even have clothes.

When I woke up today some of the sensation had returned, and there was a little bit of money that had come in - not a lot, but enough for a tin of coffee, and a few other essentials I'd run out of. So...bath or shop? I opted to do the shopping first in case hot water made my legs go again. It really wasn't much, just over to the little place on the corner to grab some necessities.

Of course, this was the day when the one clean-cut family of seven in the building (with children) was in the lift when I stepped in, and the tourists who looked like they stepped out of a bloody bandbox were all over - the locals were nowhere to be seen.

The lady at the shop wouldn't accept my bank card because I hadn't brought identification with me - and I really didn't look like someone who could afford to have a bank account. So I had to find a machine to take the money out.

And of course, on the way home, I ran into all sorts of people.

Nice bit of humiliation, that (and in case you're wondering, no, I am most definitely not into humiliation). I look like everyone else here, more or less. I don't usually judge other people by appearance, but I sure as hell do it to myself.

And when I got home, it really hit me. Why do I write?

What is this charade I'm trying to keep up, anyway?

I pulled out the Tarot d'Eltynne to help reflect on that question.

The cards are Fate (Saturn series), Accident (Mars series), Success (Sun series).

This is a reflective reading, not a predictive one, so look at those first two cards as an accident of fate, if you will. I write because I've been writing since I was four years of age. If you're wondering where Success plays into it, before I got sick, I was a good writer. Not Neil Gaiman good, but good, and it's really been the only thing people have consistently given me money for throughout my adult life.

This CNS business is affecting my brain, too. And I've lost a lot of the ability I once had. Yet I persist.

I'm still not really sure why - just that I have to.

Let me tell you a story. It is not intangential, for herein lies one of the meanings of this reading. You may be able to see it; it is my hope that you will.

Once upon a time, long ago and far away, Chanah knew an insurance salesman. The salesman had heard of Chanah. He'd read a couple of her novels, followed her magazine columns religiously. He was A Fan (yes, that kind), though Chanah didn't quite realise that at the time. One day he asked her out to dinner, and then invited her back to his place to look at some of his writing (that wasn't an excuse - he really did want her to read it).

The insurance salesman dug through some old cardboard boxes, and when he found what he was looking for, triumphantly held up a paper he'd written for a vocational course in English when he was at a trades college 20 years before. He'd got an 'A' on the paper. And then he showed Chanah the script for a musical comedy he'd written about Siamese twins who live their life in perfect dignity.

I wish I was joking about that. I'm not.

The script sucked, to put it mildly. But Chanah wasn't a cruel person, so she continued to read, and told him it was certainly an interesting concept.

And she left, and she felt overwhelmed with sadness. She was more than a little freaked out at the way the insurance man had been looking at her - as if she decided his fate. Because, after all, she was A Real Writer. And he'd watched, waiting on judgement, as if she were Moses just come down from on high with the tablets. In his heart of hearts, he knew that he, too, was a real writer. He was looking for affirmation from Chanah, and while she was kind to him, she never really gave him that. And he needed it desperately. To him, being a writer would make him A Real Person, whilst the job selling insurance made him feel like a shade.

Chanah hoped he never realised it, because she didn't want to hurt him. And to this day he's out there, selling insurance, and by night he writes more musicals, hoping for that lucky break, the one that's never going to come. He still has that paper from college, too, the one he wrote about TS Eliot. It's even more faded now, but he can still see that 'A', ever so faintly, in blue pen at the top.

It kind of hurts, doesn't it, thinking about that?

Fast-forward many, many years, and now Chanah's nervous system, including her brain, is falling to bits. She's living in a slum. She's not stupid enough to say it can't get worse, but...

I don't know why I still write. Not really, except for the compulsion. I just pray I never turn into that insurance salesman, whilst fearing I have done, and worse. Hey - at least he's got a job. I have noticed the phrase 'A Real Person' creeping into my thoughts, more and more. Dear God, don't let me bore people with stories about who I used to be; who I will one day be. Please. It is, in truth, one of my worst nightmares.

It's ironic, sometimes, seeing how things come full circle.

As Sammie noted the other day, fortune telling cards aren't always about telling fortunes. Sometimes a different genie entirely pops out of the bottle.

I've tagged on a song to this, by an old friend of mine, Jeff Jacobson. The mood just seems to fit, somehow.

“The Last Waltz” 1978  – The Band, known for hits such as “Up On Cripple Creek,” and, “The Night They Drove Ole Dixie Down,” gives their farewell concert, and invite Eric Clapton, Neil Diamond, Bob Dylan, Joni Mitchell, Neil Young, Emmylou Harris, Ringo Starr, Van Morrison, and others along for the denouement. If that wasn’t enough, it was directed by Martin Scorsese.

“Gimme Shelter” (1970) – Good idea: throw a free concert in Altamont, CA. Bad idea: hire the Hell’s Angels as security. Worse idea: pay them in free beer. And, that’s exactly what happened when the Rolling Stones put on this concert in 1969. While Ike and Tina Turner opened for them (as well as B.B. King, who was not filmed), other bands that took the stage included Jefferson Airplane, The Flying Burrito Brothers, Santana, and Crosby, Stills, Nash, and Young. The Grateful Dead opted out. During the Stones part of the concert Meredith Hunter was stabbed, which lead to extreme controversy and the fact that the Stones would not play “Sympathy for the Devil” in concert for another 6 years.

“The Song Remains the Same” (1976) – Filmed at Madison Square Gardens and mixed with documentary footage and “dream sequences,” this was, and is, THE Led Zeppelin Fan’s movie. Shot in 1973 but not released until ’76, this was the band at their height (before Plant’s Jeep crash and other factors). The movie has been remixed and remastered, including footage previously not shown.

“Festival Express” (2003) – What happens when you get The Grateful Dead, The Band, Janis Joplin and the Full Tilt Boogie Band, Sha Na Na, Marshmakhan, Ian and Sylvia and the Great Speckled Bird, The Flying Burrito Brothers, and the Buddy Guy Blues Band, and throw them all onto a train going from Toronto to Calgary, which makes stops for alcohol and to play an occasional concert? Yeah buddy. Filmed in 1970, it took until 2003 to clear most of the music rights for the film (Traffic and Ten Years After played, but musical clearance could not be obtained). It’s a fun-filled ride. Note: the DVD has the option to play all the musical sequences (there are performances not shown in the Main Movie).

“Let There Be Rock” (1980) – The first of AC/DC’s concert films would unknowingly be the last for then lead singer Bon Scott. Filmed in Paris, France in 1979, the band takes center stage and plays tracks from its first few albums. While they have achieved their place in the Halls of Rock with singer Brian Johnson, this concert is them at their best (#2: Live at Donnington). Note: the only film powered by AC/DC.

The new music video from Angelique Kidjo for the next single "Gimme Shelter", featuring Joss Stone.

The music video was shot in New York City earlier this summer and was directed by Noble Jones.

"Gimme Shelter" is the second single to be released from Angelique's latest album "Djin Djin".

The audit is done, or at least my part of it is. To say that it was depressing is an understatement. I am okay, and the audit official did recognise my not-insignificant medical expenses that are no longer covered by our shrinking national health. They are not laying criminal charges, and are not going to demand repayment of anything.

Since nobody should have too much money, they're doing one more cursory sweep to look for secret bank accounts, other hidden assets and the like. Assuming they don't find any, I will be able to keep a roof over my head, which is a lot better than I expected. They won't reinstate the pension cuts they already made, but they won't cut any more. The audit officer I ended up with was more rational and far less rude than the one who had been calling this month, and actually paid for a taxi for me to get home (total amount in bank account: 36 cents. Total cash: 52 cents. Home: 14 kilometres from audit office, and I still need a walking stick). Defendants are not allowed to sit down during an audit, unless they come in a wheelchair. So I guess in a way I was lucky, and I did indeed keep my head during the whole procedure as the cards predicted.

Yesterday was disability cheque day here, and they also withheld the cheques of all the homeless people and pulled a surprise random audit on them, as well. One would think that anybody would realise that those folks are in bad enough shape and they aren't getting better. So it was an office packed full of desperate people - some with no clothing, some with missing limbs, some dying of AIDS and tuberculosis, one man who was hit by a car just outside the office and was bleeding severely, and a few people with obvious severe mental illness being ordered to produce months of bank statements and all sorts of other impossible things. How does one provide rental receipts when one is sleeping rough? Or bank statements when one has no bank? They're going to have to sort that, apparently, if they want to go back and get their cheques, at least some of them. One of the front-line workers was showing some humanity in realising this dilemma, and giving the folks whose last name fell into the early part of the alphabet (his queue) their cheques, without demands.

Contrapuntal voices were going through my head. The first, as Franz Kafka wrote: When it's you against the world, bet on the world. And the second: God is all of us.

No answers to that one yet.

I don't like to think what probably happened to a lot of those people yesterday. And I don't like to think why it was done to them. I know this blog is not about politics, and I do thank you for indulging me on this one. It's been kind of a political week for me.

Now, as to not being able to read today, it may just be exhaustion. There was six hours of audit fun yesterday, after all, some essential running around to do afterwards, my migraine is worse, and I didn't sleep well last night.

To the person who posted over on the Play Page, I will try to comment either later today or tomorrow, assuming that life doesn't get in the way again - and if the rest of you want to play, please, go ahead - that's what it's there for!

Anyway, I pulled three cards asking what I could expect for the final results on the audit and got:

Key, Bouquet, Clover

In case anybody doesn't recognise the usual interpretation for that one, the Key indicates a certainty - in this case of nice things, nice visits and experiences, as well as good luck (Bouquet + Clover). Uh, no. The only alternative I can read out of it (and thanks to Kat for reminding me of this in another context) is that the Key locks doors as well as opens them. Still, this doesn't strike me as a spread where anyone would see it that way initially, but it does seem the more real - there is certain to be no luxury or pleasantness coming up in my life as a result of this. If you want to take a shot at it, feel free.

I just said 'okay, obviously something is off today, and it's probably me'. It does happen to all of us from time to time.

If it plays out differently, I'll let you know.

Thanks for reading.