The Dope Show

 

 

 

"The drugs they say
To make us feel so hollow
We love in vain
Narcissistic and so shallow
The cops and queers
To swim you have to swallow
Hate today
No love for tomorrow

We're all stars now in the dope show
We're all stars now in the dope show

There's lots of pretty, pretty ones
That want to get you high
But all the pretty, pretty ones
Will leave you low
And blow your mind 

We're all stars now in the dope show
We're all stars now in the dope show

They love you when you're on all the covers
When you're not, then they love another
They love you when you're on all the covers
When you're not, then they love another

The drugs they say
Are made in California
We love your face
We'd really like to sell you
The cops and queers
Make good-looking models
I hate today
Who will I wake up with tomorrow?

There's lots of pretty, pretty ones
That want to get you high
But all the pretty, pretty ones
Will leave you low
And blow your mind

They love you when you're on all the covers
When you're not, then they love another
They love you when you're on all the covers
When you're not, then they love another

There's lots of pretty, pretty ones
That want to get you high
But all the pretty, pretty ones
Will leave you low
And blow your mind
Go blow your mind

We're all stars now in the dope show
We're all stars now in the dope show"

- The Dope Show lyrics © Songs Of Golgotha, Dinger And Ollie Music, Blood Heavy Music
 

***

What's this? Am I back?

Well, tentatively. It goes like this...

Calling Dr. Feelgood

 

 

 

 

Dr. Feelgood (Love is Serious Business)

" I don't want nobody
Always sitting around me and my man
I don't want nobody
Always sitting right there
Looking at me and that man
Be it my mother, my brother or my sister
Would you believe, I'll get up, put on some clothes
Go out and help them find somebody for themselves if I can
Yes I will

Now I don't mind company
Because company's alright with me
Every once in a while
Yes it is
I tell you I don't mind company
Because company's alright with me
Every once in a while
But oh, when me and that man get to loving
I tell you girls
I dig you but I just don't have time
To sit and chit and sit and chit-chat and smile

Don't send me no doctor
Filling me up with all of those pills
I got me a man named Doctor Feelgood
And oh, yeah, that man takes me off all o' my pains and my ills
His name is
Doctor Feelgood in the morning
And taking care of business
Is really this man's game
And after one visit to Doctor Feelgood
You'll understand why Feelgood is his name
Oh, yeah, oh good God of mine
And the man sure makes me feel real... good"
 

-  Aretha Franklin / Ted White (1967)

And counting...

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Still Counting...

 

 

"Ballad of a Thin Man"

"You walk into the room with your pencil in your hand
You see somebody naked and you say, "Who is that man?"
You try so hard but you don't understand
Just what you will say when you get home
Because something is happening here but you don't know what it is
Do you, Mr. Jones?

 

You raise up your head and you ask, "Is this where it is?"
And somebody points to you and says, "It's his"
And you say, "What's mine?" and somebody else says, "Well, what is?"
And you say, "Oh my God, am I here all alone?"
But something is happening and you don't know what it is
Do you, Mr. Jones?

 

You hand in your ticket and you go watch the geek
Who immediately walks up to you when he hears you speak
And says, "How does it feel to be such a freak?"
And you say, "Impossible!" as he hands you a bone
And something is happening here but you don't know what it is
Do you, Mr. Jones?

 

You have many contacts among the lumberjacks
To get you facts when someone attacks your imagination
But nobody has any respect, anyway they already expect you to all give a check
To tax-deductible charity organizations

Ah, you've been with the professors and they've all liked your looks
With great lawyers you have discussed lepers and crooks
You've been through all of F. Scott Fitzgerald's books
You're very well-read, it's well-known
But something is happening here and you don't know what it is
Do you, Mr. Jones?

 

Well, the sword swallower, he comes up to you and then he kneels
He crosses himself and then he clicks his high heels
And without further notice, he asks you how it feels
And he says, "Here is your throat back, thanks for the loan"
And you know something is happening but you don't know what it is
Do you, Mr. Jones?

 

Now, you see this one-eyed midget shouting the word "Now"
And you say, "For what reason?" and he says, "How"
And you say, "What does this mean?" and he screams back, "You're a cow!
Give me some milk or else go home"
And you know something's happening but you don't know what it is
Do you, Mr. Jones?

 

Well, you walk into the room like a camel, and then you frown
You put your eyes in your pocket and your nose on the ground
There ought to be a law against you comin' around
You should be made to wear earphones
'Cause something is happening and you don't know what it is
Do you, Mr. Jones?"

 

- Bob Dylan, released in 1965 on his sixth album, Highway 61 Revisited.

 

 

Counting Down to a New Day

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Every Day is Halloween...

A scanned-in pumpkin is given a narrative - digital - DS 2020.

... or Samhain, if you prefer. So, while I apologize for not coming to the table on the actual day, well, does it really matter?

Anyway, I've been camping out in a rabbit hole these days... and diligently trying to produce a post relative to the situation. As it was, the image appearing above was meant for my "other" blog... but after some careful consideration - and possibly some subliminal communication with the those on the "other" side - it was decided that the Famous Last Words on Post-Mac Blues would neither be my own nor Mac's, but, instead, Antoine de Saint-Exupéry's.

I did read some good news today. In reference to a footnote in my previous post... the one about the "fat" lady singing, it seems like she's singing for Biden & Harris... as every artist, woman, and intelligent human should be. See: The Countdown: Lady Gaga gets drawn in as campaign heats up.

I hesitate to hope... but, maybe, this is a good omen!

When in Hell, Pop Some Corn

It is now officially Autumn; that spooky time of year which (normally) precedes winter. Unfortunately, this year, the same description is inadequate; our entire year has been spooky regardless of the season. Moreover, here in the States, we seem to be recklessly segueing from one circle of Hell to the next like loose cars on a roller coaster. The Pandemic, of course, continues to take its toll (one way or another), but, over the summer - that is, if you can call it a summer -  a virulent outbreak of Racism amassed its own casualties. This nightmare, in turn, lost its headline-news status when a blazing inferno began taking out large portions of the Pacific coast. Even here in New Mexico the skies continued to be a bit grey with the fallout for over a week. (Scarier than that, my friends on the east coast - 3000 miles away - report that the smoke was in eastern skies as well. One wonders how far and fast other pollutants can be transported.)

Ah, but there's a new circus in town. Yes, it's getting perilously close to Election Day again and although, in a visual sense, it seems our Presidential choices are not all that diverse - i.e., for the most part: old, male and pale - Democratic hopeful, Joe Biden, proving that he's no slouch, chose a vivacious female running mate - both African-American and Native American *- and, in terms of entertainment value, she's just about everything he's not. And that's the good news. The bad news is that, unfortunately, many Americans (both male and female) are firmly misogynistic; a fact not lost to Biden's foes whose agenda is to keep misogyny thriving. Therefore, the cunning Man from Mordor (who cannot be named) - and his creepy, bleached-out sidekick, (whose name can't be recalled) - continue to hold a large segment of the Kingdom of the West in thrall, and, while this phenomenon has never been sufficiently explained we might assume either the Dark Arts are involved or, perhaps, the many toxins now present in water supplies.**  Regardless, the present administration continues to produce damage and will do so, apparently, till the "fat lady sings"***; assuring American citizens that regardless of future election results, we'll be wading in muck for years to come.

However, after one very long year of Deep Muck, I think we might all agree that, while it's been advised to make lemonade when presented with lemons, it is equally advisable that, when in hell, make popcorn. Seriously; the conditions are optimal (and give new credence to "Hellzapoppin.") And, what goes better with popcorn than a movie? And, really, what kind of movie pairs better with politics than Walt Disney's 1940 animated film, Fantasia?

This is a wrap. Enjoy the film-clip... and pass the popcorn.

Incidentally, if you're in need of more laughs (and who isn't?) - and can read English - here's some outrageously stupid news headlines.

__________________________________________

* Correction (10/11/20): Kamala Harris was born in Oakland, California, to two immigrant parents: an Indian-born mother and Jamaican-born father, but was raised primarily by her Hindu single mother, Shyamala Gopalan Harris, a cancer researcher and civil rights activist. (Also, see here.)

Sorry for the mistake; apparently even legitimate sources can be inaccurate these days... and I've been ignoring all things (and people) political for several years +. And we know why.

BTW, Kamala's middle name is Devi (how cool it that?) and her birthday is 20th of October. Inset right is an image of the Devi, Lakshmi, as is the one inset left below. Both can be found here. (Click to enlarge.) (Later note: source link has been broken.)

 

Interestingly, although there are a number of Indian Devi (Goddesses), it was the images of Devi Lakshmi that resonated with me the most. According to Wiki, she is the goddess of wealth, fortune, love, beauty, Māyā, joy and prosperity. She is both the wife and divine energy (shakti) of Vishnu, one of the principal deities of Hinduism and the Supreme Being in the Vaishnava tradition.

 

She represents the material world of the earthly realm as the mother goddess and "is depicted in Indian art as an elegantly dressed, prosperity-showering golden-coloured woman with an owl as her vehicle, signifying the importance of economic activity in maintenance of life, her ability to move, work and prevail in confusing darkness. She typically stands or sits like a yogin on a lotus pedestal, while holding a lotus in her hand, symbolizing fortune, self-knowledge, and spiritual liberation. Her iconography shows her with four hands, which represent the four aspects of human life important to Hindu culture: dharma, kāma, artha, and moksha."

 

**  Oh, and you thought I was kidding, eh? Read this from the BBC: Brain-eating microbe: US city warned over water supply.

*** And, then again, maybe this Lady...

Vale, Notorious RBG

 

I confess, I haven't devoted a great deal of attention to Ruth Bader Ginsburg in the recent past. I'm afraid I took her position in the Supreme Court for granted. But, while her career was not foremost on my mind, her presence in the world still seemed crucial; I somehow felt safer knowing she was there... which really hit home when I learned she had died last night. (See here and here.) Not only did I feel truly bereft, I also felt frightened; certain that, even before her body grew cold, reactionary forces would begin plotting to replace her with one of their own.

And I wasn't wrong. (See here.)

RBG was a force to be reckoned with; one suspects she stoically held death at bay till the last possible moment, if only to confound the present administration. It is reported she said to her granddaughter several days before she died:

"My most fervent wish is that I will not be replaced until a new president is installed." *

She was a modern Athena and a true feminist, in that she supported and fought for both the concept of gender equality and, in some cases, individuals who specifically suffered from the lack of it... which often included men. But, more importantly, she was a truly intelligent human who used her position of power to bring some clarity to the world.

Her death has brought another terrible loss to this planet at a time when we have already lost too much. But, I hope her spirit remains for awhile; encouraging and inspiring young women to continue fighting where she left off. And, with any luck, as she was so driven and passionate in her convictions, she'll return long enough to haunt a few politicians... specifically the buzzards currently circling around the Supreme Court.

Vale, RBG, and more power to you. You fought from the standpoint of love... love for the people you served and a love for the truth. There is no greater standpoint.
 

(Note: Inset left in the text portion of the post is a photo of RBG taken by Kevin Wolf (AP) and found here.)

________________________________________________

* This just in (9/21/20): Not terribly surprisingly, the leader of the present administration is in denial about this statement and wishes to cast doubt (his favorite evil seed to plant when he's cornered or presented with any obstruction to his agenda) on its authenticity. He has, instead, "suggested" that the statement allegedly made by RBG's granddaughter was, in his (woefully deficient) estimation, contrived by the Democratic party.

"But while repeatedly proclaiming his respect for Ginsburg, Trump dismissed her final statement, that her wish was not to be replaced until a new president is installed, saying it sounded like 'it came out of the wind,' and suggesting with no evidence that one of his Democratic opponents could have made it up.

'I don't know that she said that, or was that written out by Adam Schiff and Schumer and Pelosi?' Trump said, referring to Democratic Rep. Adam Schiff of California, House Speaker Nancy Pelosi and Senate Minority Leader Chuck Schumer. 'I would be more inclined to the second, OK, you know? That came out of the wind. It sounds so beautiful, but that sounds like a Schumer deal, or maybe a Pelosi or Shifty Schiff.'"

- Via this article. (Note: The use of audacity - and disrespect - to achieve his objective is, yet, another favorite ploy of our "fearless leader" If he was a child he might be excused... but, perhaps, not even then.)

 

Also:  Ginsburg became the first woman to lie in state at the U.S. Capitol.

 

Once Possessed - The "Madness" of Vaslav Nijinsky

Russian dancer Vaslav Nijinsky in his 1911 role as the "Rose Ghost"
from the ballet "Le Spectre de la Rose." (Also here, and another related article in French).
Click all images in this post to enlarge.

"Ô toi qui de ma mort fus cause,

Sans que tu puisses le chasser

Toute la nuit mon spectre rose

A ton chevet viendra danser.

Mais ne crains rien, je ne réclame

Ni messe, ni De Profundis;

Ce léger parfum est mon âme

Et j’arrive du paradis."

("O you, who caused my death

Without the power to dispel,

All night long my fragrant specter

Will dance at your bedside.

But fear nothing, I require

Neither psalms nor sacred rites;

This delicate scent is my soul

And I’ve come from paradise.")

- From the poem Le Spectre de la Rose by Théophile Gautier which inspired Michel Fokine's ballet about a young woman haunted by the spirit of a rose she had received at her debut. Later that night, while she dozes in a chair, the spirit of the wilted rose visits her in a dream. (Note: So much tends to be lost in mere word translations of French poetry... specifically: the poetry! I've seen several translations of this particular stanza but found myself dissatisfied with all of them. So, I tweaked it. In other words, if this translation is also problematic, the fault is mine.)

The rose (inset right) is named for a man... as many roses are. Did you know that? It's name is Fantin Latour, named for the French artist who was known for his elegant paintings of flowers... especially his roses. More of his work can be found here. There might, in actuality, be a variety of rose named Nijinsky - well, there ought to be - but, if so, I haven't found it.

"His dancing has the unbroken quality of music, the balance of a great painting, the meaning of fine literature, and the emotion inherent in all these arts. There is something of transmutation in his performances; he becomes an alembic, transforming movement into a finely wrought and beautiful work of art. The dancing of Nijinsky is first an imaginative triumph, and the spectator, perhaps, should not be interested in further dissection of it..."

- From "The Russian Ballet and Nijinsky" by Carl van Vechten found in Nijinsky, an illustrated Monograph edited by Paul Magriel, 1946. Also found within the pages of the book are the 3 b/w photos of Nijinsky as the Rose found inset left, inset right (below) and below the jump.

"In December 1917, Vaslav Nijinsky, the most famous male dancer in the Western world, moved into a Swiss villa with his wife and three-year-old daughter and started to go insane. This diary, which he kept in four notebooks over six weeks, is the only sustained, on-the-spot account we have by a major artist of the experience of entering psychosis. Nijinsky's diary was first published in 1936, in a heavily bowdlerized version that omitted almost half of his text. The present edition, translated by Kyril FitzLyon, is the first complete version in English, and the first version in any language to include the fourth notebook, written at the very edge of psychosis. It contains Nijinsky's last lucid thoughts - on God, sex, war, and the nature of the universe, as well as on his own broken life."

- A description of The Diary of Vaslav Nijinsky. The New York Times has archived a small portion of the newer translation of the diary here.

"Nijinsky's Diary was written during the six weeks he spent in Switzerland before being committed to the asylum, combining elements of autobiography with appeals for compassion toward the less fortunate, and for vegetarianism and animal rights. Nijinsky writes of the importance of feeling, as opposed to reliance on reason and logic alone, and he denounces the practice of art criticism as being nothing more than a way for those who practice it to indulge their own egos rather than focusing on what the artist was trying to say. The diary also contains bitter and conflicted thoughts regarding his relationship with Diaghilev."

- Excerpt from the Wiki entry for Nijinsky.


"The man who is right is the one who feels but does not understand."

- A quote from Nijinsky's Diary found here.

***

A Less Common Kind of Guy

If someone had told me years ago that one day in the far future I would fall in love with a man dressed as a flower, I would've probably just figured they (or I) had inhaled one flower too many. And, yet, that's just what I did one recent Pandemic night, as I gazed at a photo of the Russian dancer, Vaslav Nijinsky. The photo was found in a slim red book with the name "Nijinsky" written in a thin, black script on its spine; a book I might have easily overlooked had it not fallen under my creative radar earlier in the day. And what to my wondering eyes did appear, as I opened the book to a random page, but a photograph of Nijinsky in his role from the ballet "Le Spectre de la Rose"... that is, the ghost or spirit of the rose, which I learned had been inspired by a French poem of the same name.

Lovely, lovely, exquisitely lovely. As it so happens, roses (and spirits) figure prominently in a current art project of mine - a project devoted to the mysteries of the power of love - and, well, I'd be the last one to ignore the quirky habits of fate. Unfortunately, as I began reading the book (into the wee hours of the morning) it became apparent that I had another tragic artist on my hands and, worse still, another misunderstood "mad" artist. At which point I realized Nijinsky would eventually have to make his way to Trans-D... the home of the misunderstood "mad" artist.

As a young dancer, Vaslav Nijinsky (March 12, 1889 – April 8, 1950) was beautiful, graceful, luminous, beloved by both men and women, and considered the greatest dancer and most innovative choreographer of his time. This was during the latter years of the Fin de Siècle when all sorts of dark romanticism, spiritualism - and debauchery - transpired. Tragically, his life - and (allegedly) his mind - began to unravel around the age of 29 (apparently the shelf-life of many a brilliant flame). He was eventually diagnosed with schizophrenia and was to spend his remaining 30 years in and out of mental institutions. Professionally, he would never dance again... reminding us (to our dismay), that, yes, for an artist, there are fates worse than death... and almost all of them are in some way related to institutions.

Nijinsky is and was most often referred to as gay: the stereotypical effeminate ballet dancer - and, while looking at his "Rose" photographs, you might've  thought so, too - as if grace and beauty (and some great eye-shadow) are exclusively found in feminine form. This a fairly modern misconception. The classical world entertained a broader, unbiased perspective, glorifying both their pretty boys and pretty girls equally in art and poetry. Then again, in ancient Greece and Rome, one's sexual orientation wasn't the socially definitive issue it became in the modern world. In fact, no precise Latin words for "homosexual" or "heterosexual" existed. As for Nijinsky, well, he married a woman, fathered two children and employed a number of female prostitutes, while his few documented relationships with men - specifically Sergei Diaghilev, the founder of the renowned Ballets Russes in which Nijinsky found his fame - seem to be based predominately on Nijinsky's artistic opportunism and his partner's egocentric, abusive indulgences. "Love" did not seem to have been the operative term in their relationship. But, for Nijinsky, love was all. And, his feeling was so strong, he believed he was love's personification. In a letter to Diaghilev, Nijinsky wrote:

"You are the one who wants death and destruction, although you are afraid of death.
I love love, but I am not the flesh and blood, I am the spirit, the soul. I am love..."

Ultimately, whether Nijinsky was gay, bi, straight - or some permutation thereof - doesn't really interest us here. I'm more inclined to agree with Dorothy Parker's remark:

“Heterosexuality is not normal, it’s just common.”

 So, let's just accept that Nijinsky was a less common kind of guy and move on...

Doing Surreal(ism) Right

"From the moment when it is subjected to a methodical examination, when, by means yet to be determined, we succeed in recording the contents of dreams in their entirety (and that presupposes a discipline of memory spanning generations; but let us nonetheless begin by noting the most salient facts), when its graph will expand with unparalleled volume and regularity, we may hope that the mysteries which really are not will give way to the great Mystery. I believe in the future resolution of these two states, dream and reality, which are seemingly so contradictory, into a kind of absolute reality, a surreality, if one may so speak. It is in quest of this surreality that I am going, certain not to find it, but too unmindful of my death not to calculate to some slight degree the joys of its possession."

"...A great deal more could be said, but in passing I merely wanted to touch upon a subject which in itself would require a very long and much more detailed discussion; I shall come back to it. At this juncture, my intention was merely to mark a point by noting the hate of the marvelous which rages in certain men, this absurdity beneath which they try to bury it. Let us not mince words: the marvelous is always beautiful, anything marvelous is beautiful, in fact only the marvelous is beautiful."

"...We are still living under the rule of logic, that, of course, is what I am driving at. But in our day, logical procedures are only applicable in solving problems of secondary interest. The absolute rationalism still in fashion only allows us to consider facts directly related to our own experience. The aims of logic, in contrast, escape us. Pointless to add that our very experience finds itself limited. It paces about in a cage from which it is more and more difficult to free it. It leans, it too, on immediate utility, and is guarded by common sense. Under the flag of civilisation, accompanied by the pretext of progress, we have managed to banish from the spirit everything that might rightly or wrongly be termed superstition, fancy, forbidding any kind of research into the truth which does not conform to accepted practice. It was by pure chance, it seems, that a part of our mental world, and to my mind the most important, with which we pretended to be no longer concerned, was recently brought back to light."

 - Three separate excerpts from André Breton's 1924 The Manifesto of Surrealism.