Drug club: Spain’s alternative cannabis economy

Drug club: Spain's alternative cannabis economy

http://www.redpepper.org.uk/drug-club/

Nick Buxton examines the experience of cannabis social clubs in Spain

June 2011

The room looks like the office of any small membership organisation:
old worn furniture, jammed bookshelves, promotional posters, dented
filing cabinets, random boxes of materials that have never been
filed. What stands out, though, is the cloying smell of marijuana
that permeates the room of the Pannagh Association in the city centre
of Bilbao in northern Spain. Pannagh's president, a young, energetic
Martín Barriuso Alonso, brings out the source of the odour from the
locked filing cabinets. Inside metal boxes are neatly labelled
plastic bags: Critical Mass, White Widow, Medicine Man, New York
Diesel, Aka 47, all ready for distribution.

It's six o'clock on a Thursday, and soon Pannagh's members start
arriving to pick up their bags. The first is Miguel Angel, who has
HIV and recently underwent a liver transplant. Then Javier, who just
consumes because, hey, he enjoys it. Pannagh (which means cannabis in
Sanskrit) has 300 members who each pay 40 euros a year membership and
then four euros per gram, about half the rate on the black market.
Some take a bag of five grams, others 10. The maximum allowed is 60
grams per month.

Legal grey area

The existence of Pannagh and up to 300 similar clubs throughout Spain
is down to a quirky grey area in Spanish law. It is also the product
of a determined group of activists who have pushed at the openings in
the law to try to formalise their existence. In 1974 the Spanish
supreme court judged that drug consumption and possession for
personal use was not a crime, while still deeming drug trafficking an
imprisonable offence. This created a jurisprudence in which providing
drugs for compassionate reasons, and joint purchase by a group of
addicts – as long as it did not involve profit-seeking – were not
crimes either.

It was in 1993, however, that the law was really put to the test,
when the Asociación Ramón Santos de Estudios Sobre el Cannabis (Ramon
Santos Association for the Study of Cannabis, ARSEC) caught the media
spotlight by publicly and openly growing cannabis for 100 of its
members. The crop was confiscated, only for the provincial court to
acquit those involved before the supreme court eventually ruled that
although it was clear that ARSEC did not intend to traffic drugs, the
cultivation of cannabis was dangerous per se and therefore should be punished.

This legal cat-and-mouse game continued as other marijuana
associations forced a series of contradictory legal decisions,
sometimes leading to arrests and at other times prompting no legal
intervention. In the case of Pannagh, Martín Barriuso and two other
members of the association were detained for three days in 2006 and
had their crop confiscated.

A few months later, however, the courts ruled that there had been no
crime as 'it concerned consumption between addicts in which there was
no transmission to other parties' and ordered the police to return
the confiscated plants. Seventeen kilograms of marijuana that had
been rotting behind bars was returned. Although completely unusable,
Barrioso still has it, a decomposing trophy of his minor victory
against the system.

The legal uncertainty is far from over, as arrests of members of
cannabis clubs continue to occur from time to time. However,
decisions by the supreme court in October 2001 and July 2003
contradicted its initial ARSEC judgement and established that
possession of cannabis, including large quantities, is not a crime if
there is no clear intention of trafficking. This has made possible an
explosion of cannabis user associations.

Clubbing together

Due to the lack of clear regulation, associations have had to
improvise and invent solutions in order to standardise their
activities. The main pioneering groups came together in 2003 as the
Federation of Cannabis Clubs (FAC), which initially included 21
clubs. All are non-profit and member-run, and most have similar
guidelines, keeping strict and thorough records of cultivation,
distribution and costs in case there is any investigation.

As Barriuso recounts, fear of arrest is still there, but most
cannabis user associations are now more afraid of thieves stealing
their valuable stocks. Some even have their building alarms linked up
to the local police station.

There are still many unresolved questions in terms of regulation.
Nevertheless the gradual normalisation of these clubs has already
marked out Spain as different to that other bastion of European drug
liberalism, Holland. As Tom Blickman, a drugs policy researcher for
the Transnational Institute explains: 'The unique nature of cannabis
social clubs is that they have legalised both production and
consumption of cannabis within a closed club and non-profit system.

Dutch liberal cannabis policy may have minimised criminalisation of
users, but it has not resolved the core contradiction known as the
back door problem: coffee shops are allowed to sell up to five grams
of cannabis to consumers (the front door) but have to buy their stock
on the illegal market (the back door). To draw coffee shops out of
the criminal sphere entirely, the cultivation of cannabis needs to be
regulated.'

The grey area of the law in Spain has led to the development of an
economic and social model for drug consumption that might offer a
more economically and socially just alternative to market
legalisation. 'I used to think our clubs were just one step towards
full legalisation, but now I am not so sure,' says Martín Barriuso.
'When the debate is polarised between total prohibition and almost
total liberalisation, it seems people have not stopped to think that
there are other ways of doing things.'

Legalisation debate

The legalisation of drugs has moved from a fringe demand to an
increasingly mainstream concern over the past decade. Advocates of
legalisation range from ex-Home Office minister Bob Ainsworth to the
former president of Mexico to the Economist. A referendum to legalise
cannabis in California in November 2010 was only narrowly defeated.

However the case for legalisation has often been pitched as bringing
drugs into the capitalist open market – in the words of some
advocates, to start selling heroin as if it was Coca-Cola. Yet that
would turn drugs into commodities, subject to the same manipulations
and abuses of the international market as other legalised drugs, such
as alcohol. A legalised cannabis market, driven by profit, would soon
lead to drugs supply controlled by a few, driven by profit, involving
unethical promotional practices and with little concern for the
health of its users – in many ways a mirror image of the illegal drugs market.

As Martín Barriuso argues, cannabis social clubs provide a viable
alternative not just to the illegal but also a legalised 'free
market' in drugs. 'What we have found is that the limits imposed by
the current legal framework, in particular the obligation to produce
and distribute within a closed circle, the control of all production
by members, and, above all, the absence of profit, has created a
framework of relations that is different and, for us, fairer and more
balanced.'

Alternative economy

Barriuso points to the way that direct contact between producers and
consumers has made it easier to find a balance between dignified
salaries and reasonable prices, replacing competition with a desire
for mutual benefit. Direct control of production means that members
have full control of the origin, quality and composition of what they
are consuming, while generating legal economic activity and tax
collection. Accountability within the group means that health
concerns (and many of Pannagh's members consume cannabis for health
reasons) are primary.

Given those results, it is not surprising that Barriuso concludes,
'Now that we have succeeded in obtaining our supply directly and
under better conditions, why would we fight for a capitalist market
for cannabis, where the power of decision is once again in the hands
of a few people and where we no longer control how substances we
consume are produced?'

While the future of the Spanish model of cannabis social clubs is by
no means guaranteed, it is an idea that is spreading. The Dutch city
of Utrecht announced in early 2011 that it plans to experiment with a
closed club model for adult recreational cannabis users and other
Dutch municipalities have expressed interest in doing the same.

The European Parliament recently heard proposals for an extension of
cannabis social clubs across Europe. Pannagh presented evidence,
based on its own financial records, that this could create 7,500
direct jobs and around 30,000 indirect jobs in Spain alone. At a
European level, it could create 8.4 billion euros additional income
for member governments, an attractive proposition at a time of
austerity budgets.

'It could hardly have been expected,' says Martín Barriuso smiling,
'but by some strange legal fate, the global prohibition of drugs
applied by the Spanish courts has given place to a strange
protectionist market for cannabis, where there is economic activity
but no profit, entrepreneurs but no businessmen, consumers but no
exploitation of producers, and the existence of a legal economy
entirely separate from the major distribution outlets and the
mainstream economy. In a society such as Spain, facing a deep
economic and social crisis after years of speculation, extreme
consumerism and easy money, this parallel economy seems now more of
an advantage than a disadvantage.'

Martín Barriuso Alonso's briefing, Cannabis Social Clubs in Spain: a
normalising alternative under way, is available at www.tni.org

Fifty years of the 'war on drugs'

2011 marks the 50th anniversary of the 1961 UN Single Convention on
Narcotic Drugs, the agreement that cemented global drug control into
an international legal framework that has remained largely unchanged
to this day. The subsequent 'war on drugs' has led to most countries
worldwide using largely military and criminal-justice means in a
completely unrealistic attempt to eradicate drugs use.

A coalition of international organisations, including Transform UK,
the International Drug Policy Consortium and the Transnational
Institute, have joined forces to launch a 'Count the Costs' campaign.
They argue that while it was no doubt implemented with good
intentions, it is now possible, reflecting on the experiences of the
past half-century, to conclude that the policy has failed to achieve
its goal of reducing or eliminating drug production, supply and use.
In fact, drug supply and use has risen dramatically. It has also come
at great social costs, fuelling conflict and insecurity in many
countries, criminalising vulnerable groups of users and growers,
diverting massive resources away from proven public health
interventions, and rewarding violent criminal groups.

They campaign is calling on all UN member governments to make a
proper assessment of the costs of the 'war on drugs' and to use the
50th anniversary to radically reform UN drugs conventions to focus on
evidence-based drugs policies that minimise harm for drug users and
do not infringe human rights.

Campaign website: www.countthecosts.org

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The fall and rise of Marshall McLuhan

The fall and rise of Marshall McLuhan

http://www.thestar.com/opinion/editorialopinion/article/1027327--the-fall-and-rise-of-marshall-mcluhan

2011/07/19

It was December 1970 and warning signs were already visible. The
reputation of Marshall McLuhan, professor of English at the
University of Toronto and oracle of the electronic age, was under
siege. An editorial in the Toronto Star in defence of McLuhan
attributed hostility partly to good old Canadian envy of "the local
boy who had made good." That local boy was a "pioneer in studying the
effect of new means of communication such as television on society,"
the editorial stated, an intellectual whose "many intuitive leaps and
dazzling insights have made him one of the few seminal thinkers of
the 20th century." Sure enough, the Star pointed out, "Canadian
critics and reviewers are attacking him right and left."

This year's numerous celebrations of McLuhan's centenary ­ he was
born in Edmonton on July 21, 1911, ­ has made it clear McLuhan's
reputation has survived, and is now thriving. His is a remarkable
story. For years he toiled in relative obscurity, a University of
Toronto professor and expert in Renaissance literature who turned his
attention toward contemporary culture and the effects of the media of
communication, notably the printing press and television, on the
human nervous system. In the mid-sixties, with the publication of
such books as The Gutenberg Galaxy (1962) and Understanding Media
(1964), his work caught the attention of intellectuals in North
America and Europe. Journalists followed suit. He was the subject of
an article in Harper's entitled "Marshall McLuhan: Canada's
Intellectual Comet," a profile in New York magazine by Tom Wolfe, a
cover story in Newsweek. He was mentioned in New Yorker cartoons and
cheerfully saluted in Laugh-In, a popular show in the late sixties.

A reaction set in, and not just among McLuhan's fellow Canadians.
McLuhan's playful style, his love of puns and aphorisms and
one-liners, his refusal to play by the rules of academia, enraged
that class of individual the poet T. S Eliot described as "the
mild-mannered man safely entrenched behind his typewriter." McLuhan's
embrace of celebrity confirmed suspicions among many of his
colleagues that he was little more than a charlatan. In fairness to
these critics, McLuhan, who had experienced long years of
penny-pinching in support of his wife and six children on a
professor's salary, frankly admitted he wanted to cash in on his fame
while it lasted.

For a while after McLuhan's death in 1980 it seemed that his
reputation was indeed destined for oblivion, despite the defence of
McLuhan in that Toronto Star editorial. He would never again trouble
the peace of Communications Departments in universities across the
land. When I began research on my biography of McLuhan in the
mid-1980s, I often had to remind people who he was. (Usually I
mentioned McLuhan's appearance in Woody Allen's 1976 movie, Annie Hall.)

At the same time I noticed a curious phenomenon. I kept coming across
articles that ripped off McLuhan's insights with no acknowledgement
of source. It reminded me of Friedrich Engels' remark about political
economists in his day who were as busy plagiarizing Marx's work as
they were persistent in trying to kill it by silence.

The revival of McLuhan under these circumstances is no mystery. His
insights about the effect of electronic technology in particular ­
the re-tribalization of the young, the vanishing of such concepts as
privacy, the weakening of personal identity, the tendency among users
of the media to become what McLuhan called "discarnate," or almost
literally bodiless ­ these insights are more pertinent than ever in
the world of Facebook and iPhones. His writings from the sixties and
seventies seem to apply more to our own era then they do to his.

The lectures and seminars now being held as part of the McLuhan
centenary are not simply trying to celebrate the man and to defend
his style ­ a non-academic style more attuned to playful conversation
than to scholarly research. They are not simply vindicating that 1970
Toronto Star editorial. They are challenging us to adopt McLuhan's
approach of full awareness of our new media-constructed environments.

The first step may be to stop moaning and groaning about young people
and their video games, their constant use of "social media," and so
on. McLuhan was deeply suspicious of the effects of television, for
example, but he realized it did no good simply to express disgust
with television. The job was to pay attention to what this technology
was actually doing to our minds and our sensibilities. Perception and
not moralizing was the key. As McLuhan noted, in one of his great
sayings, "With understanding, there is no such thing as inevitability."
--

Philip Marchand is a former Star book critic and the author of
Marshall McLuhan: The Medium and the Messenger.

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Music Review: The Zombies - Breathe Out, Breathe In

Music Review:
The Zombies - Breathe Out, Breathe In

http://blogcritics.org/music/article/music-review-the-zombies-breathe-out/

Author: Aaron Kupferberg ­
Published: Jul 20, 2011

Few can argue the legacy of the Zombies, a seminal sixties band whose
album Odessey and Oracle was considered the apex of the British Invasion.

The group split up in 1968, but a few years ago organist Rod Argent
and vocalist Colin Blunstone revived The Zombies as a band, and they
have recorded the all-new album Breathe Out, Breathe In. The results
aren't predictable; on the title track I really thought I was
listening to a lost Steely Dan song, blending R&B and jazz influences
into a sweet piano-led theme. I need not worry long about the band's
sound, as "Any Other Way" is a new Zombies classic that stands
alongside past hits. Blunstone's vocals are truly ageless, and an
impressive guitar break elevates the song.

"Play it for Real" starts with a Beatles "Hey Bulldog" homage in the
main melody, and it's got some nice harmonies in the chorus. "Shine
on Sunshine" is the album's most poignant and beautiful melody, it
compares very well to Paul McCartney's "The Long and Winding Road"
and will surely bring a tear to your eye. Argent's organ drives the
blues-based "Show Me The Way," and likewise on the impressive rocker
"Another Day," complete with dramatic flourishes similar to Procol
Harum. The album leans heavily on some gospel influences within the
last few tracks, but these indulgences are expected from a band that
hasn't been together for so many years. Overall, Breathe Out, Breathe
In is a very good album that fans can embrace for what it is.
Compared to other surviving sixties legends, I'd say the Zombies are
far from buried.

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Ask An Old Hippie: How Has Marijuana Changed Since The Sixties?

Ask An Old Hippie:
How Has Marijuana Changed Since The Sixties?

http://the420times.com/2011/07/ask-an-old-hippie-how-has-marijuana-changed-since-sixties/

Old Hippie
Jul 22, 2011

[Editor's Note: This week, we begin a new feature called "Ask An Old
Hippie", written by our residENT reefer writer and ganja geezer Old
Hippie, who first tried cannabis in 1967 and the rest is history.
Send your questions in to him at OldHippie@The420Times.com]
--

Nugs? Buds? Never heard of them.

All we ever saw was ground-up powdery stuff or crushed leaves (and
twigs, and seeds…often all mushed together in what's called "brick"
today). Sometimes we saw little pieces of crushed flower, and we were
amazed: it was actual proof that it came from an actual plant! Even
on the rare occasions when we got good stuff (all the legendary names
like Panama Red, Acapulco Gold, and Maui Wowie), it was pretty much
in either of those two forms. Of course, this was "back East" in NYC,
so mostly anything had to take quite a long trip before it got there.
Every once in awhile, some amazing stuff came by that was reputed to
be home-grown, but I'm sure any growing amateur today knows more than
virtually anyone did back then. In the 70s, Thai Stick hit the street
very rarely, and it was a wonder to behold: an actual stem with
dried, pressed, flattened buds on it!

Anyway, my point is that there was another legendary type called
"sinsemilla", meaning "without seeds", and none of us had even seen
it. Fast forward to me walking into a dispensary for the first time
last year…and the word is obsolete, because everything is sinsemilla
buds! Just imagine how I felt after all those years…I didn't even
recognize the stuff ­ although all I had to do was smell it to know
it was "the right stuff".

Despite the anxious hand-wringing among many drug warrior types about
how "today's marijuana is so much stronger OMG isn't it terrible",
what we did back then was actually smoke a lot more of it to get the
desired effect. This was more dangerous for our health, since smoking
is the least healthy (as well as most wasteful) way of ingesting
cannabis. But we didn't know any different back then. Today, we have
vaporizers, capsules, and edibles of every type, so there's no reason
for patients to actually smoke except for nostalgia.
–
Old Hippie is a MMJ patient living somewhere in the wilds of
California whose only link with the real world is a 420 MHz radio. He
blogs on BeyondChronic.com and vapes on Sour Diesel.

Got a question for Old Hippie? Send your questions to:
oldhippie@the420times.com

.

Copenhagen: Something radical in the state of Denmark

Copenhagen: Something radical in the state of Denmark

http://www.redpepper.org.uk/copenhagen-something-radical-in-the-state-of-denmark/

Ronan McHugh finds Copenhagen offers much of interest to visiting lefties
July 2011

It is hard not to be impressed by the sheer number of radical cafés,
bookstores and social centres in Copenhagen. Despite its relatively
small size (approximately one million residents), the city has at
least a dozen different radical centres, not including the
semi-autonomous area of Christiania, which is currently fighting a
last ditch battle with Denmark's right-wing government to stop the
state reclaiming the area and selling it off to property developers.

This huge infrastructure is not a recent development; a fascination
with the idea of fristeder (free places) has long been a dominant
tendency in the Danish radical left. This tendency dates back to the
squatters' movement, the slumstormere, that developed in the 1960s.
This died down after the authorities allowed squatters to live in the
buildings they had occupied until they were demolished, but it has
been revived in recent years.

Despite this background, radical centres in Copenhagen tend not to be
squatted buildings. Tough laws make squatting difficult, while there
are many legal alternatives for groups attempting to establish a
space. On the one hand, many former squats still have plenty of space
that can be repurposed for new projects, while on the other, it is
possible to get grants from government cultural funds for radical
social centres and other such projects. All of these different spaces
have something to say about contemporary and historical radicalism in
Copenhagen.

It's well worth getting a bike to visit Copenhagen. It is one of the
best cities in the world to cycle in and its wide bike lanes and
sensible drivers offer a welcome relief from the perils of cycling in
more car-centred cities. Unfortunately, it is hard to find bikes to
rent and the city-bikes provided for tourists are clunky
monstrosities, designed to be as unattractive as possible to steal.

Any radical tour of Copenhagen starts in Nørrebro. Historically a
workers' quarter and later a home to the squatters' movement, it is
now rapidly being colonised by an array of raw food restaurants, posh
cafés and gourmet beer bars. Despite this development, Nørrebro is
still studded with left-wing outposts.

A good place to start is Demos, an anti-fascist bookstore in a prime
location on the corner of the now uber-trendy Sankt Hans Torv with a
good selection of books, magazines and t-shirts. The shop is run by
an anti-fascist collective, who publish a magazine of the same name.

From here, one can walk ten minutes down the road to Cikaden, a
café, library and bookstore run by the International Forum, a group
that organises international solidarity work. There you can browse
the library, buy a souvenir t-shirt, or have a chat with the
activists on duty. The building next door is the headquarters of the
Socialist Youth Front. On a typical Friday evening passers-by might
be greeted by the sounds of pop music and heated arguments about the
Spanish Civil War.

At this point, it might be worth taking a break for a coffee at Café
Under Konstruktion (CuK), on the ground floor of Folkets Hus (The
People's House). Open five days a week, CUK was started as part of
the wave of activism that followed the eviction of the Ungdomshuset
(Youth House) autonomous youth centre in 2007. During weekdays it
offers a relaxed atmosphere for meeting friends and hanging out,
without the price tag attached to most café culture, while on
weekends there are often concerts and film showings. On a Sunday, you
can get your bike fixed at Cykelværkstedet 71, a cooperative bike
workshop also on the ground floor of Folkets Hus.

After a coffee, it might be worth buying a few flowers on
Nørrebrogade and walking to Jagtvej 69, the site of the evicted
Ungdomshuset. The building that formerly stood at Jagtvej 69 was
first built by the workers' movement in 1897, and functioned as a
headquarters and social centre for the labour movement, hosting
dances and boxing matches, as well as speeches by guests such as
Vladimir Lenin and Rosa Luxemburg.

In 1982, the then-derelict building was gifted to the squatters'
movement by the city council for use as an autonomous youth cultural
centre. For nearly 30 years it functioned as a concert venue and a
home for Copenhagen's 'autonome' movement.

However, in 2007, after a protracted court battle and failed
negotiations, the building was evicted by a huge force of police and
torn down to prevent it being re-occupied. Riots lasting several days
broke out across Copenhagen. Despite thousands of arrests, the police
failed to kill the movement and a year later the city council offered
the youth a new building as compensation.

This new building is located at Dortheavej 61, in the Nord Vest area,
further out of town. It's well worth paying a visit, either for the
excellent vegan People's Kitchen on Thursday evenings, a concert
during the weekend, or simply to hang out and read a book in the
well-stocked library and bookstore.

Also in Nord Vest are two other recent additions to Copenhagen's
radical cityscape, Bolsjefabrikken (The Candy Factory) and
Ragnhildgade 1. Both are non-profit and non-commercial cultural
centres run with support from city cultural funds. Ragnhildgade 1's
Thursday cafe is a good place to finish the day with a few beers
after the vegan dinner.

You can start the next day with a falafel at one of Nørrebro's many
kebab stores before heading down to Christiania, the now legendary
autonomous community. Christiania was founded in 1971, when squatters
occupied a derelict military barracks close to the harbour. Since
then, it has been run collectively by weekly general assemblies,
although its existence has continuously been threatened by conflicts
with the state over their right to use the area.

The first thing that strikes the visitor to Christiania is the
thriving trade in hash and weed on Pushers Street. Walking a little
bit further on, you can stop at Månefiskeren for a coffee or continue
on for a walk around the lakes. Despite its centrality, Christiania
is one of the most beautiful areas in Copenhagen. Trees and plant
life are allowed to prosper and the area is bounded by water. The
architecture is also worth admiring; the majority of residents live
in repurposed military buildings, but there are also many new houses,
which are often interestingly designed.

On another note altogether, Copenhagen's Frihedsmuseet (the Freedom
Museum) is an interesting spot to spend an hour or two. The museum
documents the history of the Nazi occupation during the second world
war and the resistance movement against it. Most interesting for
lefties will be the exhibition about the Folkestrejke (People's
Strike), a strike movement against occupation and government
collaboration. Also of note is the Danish people's remarkable success
in helping Jews to escape Nazi persecution.

The museum is located right next to a large section of well preserved
fortifications from the 17th century. Formed in the shape of a
pentagram, they were originally built as a defence against Sweden.
They later proved singularly useless in defence against the British
navy, which responded to the Danish refusal to enter an alliance
against Napoleon by seizing the Danish navy and firebombing the
civilian population.

All-in-all, Copenhagen is a great spot for a bit of radical tourism.
The radical left's long love affair with free spaces and independent
culture means that there are plenty of interesting places to see
around the city. Foreign activists might also use the opportunity to
think about the role of free spaces and 'autonomous culture' in
radical politics: are they a necessary part of a revolutionary
movement or a distraction from the real struggle? Are they a model
for a better society or a Neverland for escapist youth? After four
years in Copenhagen, I'm still not sure of the answer.

.

Zeitgeist Acquires “Paul Goodman” Doc

Zeitgeist Acquires "Paul Goodman" Doc

http://www.indiewire.com/article/2011/07/21/zeitgeist_acquires_paul_goodman_doc

by Peter Knegt
(July 21, 2011)

Zeitgeist Films has acquired North American rights to "Paul Goodman
Changed My Life," a documentary by Jonathan Lee about one of the 20th
century's most influential thinkers

Full release below.

July 20, 2011

Zeitgeist Films acquires all North American rights to U.S.
documentary PAUL GOODMAN CHANGED MY LIFE, directed by Jonathan Lee

Zeitgeist Films is pleased to announce the acquisition of Jonathan
Lee's documentary feature PAUL GOODMAN CHANGED MY LIFE for all North
American rights. Over two decades in the making, Lee's portrait of
one of the 20th century's most influential thinkers is structured
around interviews with family, peers, and activists whose encounters
with Paul Goodman the man or with his writings changed their lives.

Most renown as the author of the best selling GROWING UP ABSURD in
1960, Goodman was also a poet, pacifist, visionary, out queer (and
family man) who influenced a generation of contemporary authors,
thinkers and activists. Rich archival footage and readings by Goodman
and others, including Garrison Keillor and Edmund White, of his
poetry and prose, plus Living Theatre co-founder Judith Malina
reading selections from her journals, provide a visceral sense of
this prodigiously gifted, original and prescient man.

A fall premiere at New York's Film Forum is scheduled. A national
release will follow.

.

The Happy Together Tour was Far Out,Man!

The Happy Together Tour at Ruth Eckerd Hall was Far Out,Man!

http://www.examiner.com/classic-rock-music-in-st-petersburg/the-happy-together-tour-at-ruth-eckerd-hall-was-far-out-man-review

By Ray Shasho
July 20, 2011

Ruth Eckerd Hall hosted the Happy Together Tour last night in
Clearwater to a near capacity crowd. The evening produced nonstop Top
40 hits from an era when the music mattered. Five legendary bands
from the psychedelic 60's embraced an enthusiastic Clearwater crowd
with five fantastic performances.

The crowd, many wearing Tie- dye shirts, sandals and jeans appeared
like they never left the 60's. And as Paul Revere & the Raiders
frontman Mark Lindsay put it, "I'm reliving the 60's again in my
60's." There's no doubt that the Baby Boomer Generation is where
it's at these days and anyone in the entertainment industry that
ignores that fact is making a huge financial mistake. The longevity
of these groups is remarkable. I seriously doubt that anyone from the
American Idol Generation will maintain a following when they're 65.

The first band to take the stage last night was Chicago's own, The
Buckinghams with original guitarist/vocalist Carl Giammarese and
Bassist Nick Fortuna.

Giammarese slipped on a jacket that he wore with the band some 40
years ago and talked about a case for mistaken identity when many
thought the band was actually a British group because of their name-
The Buckinghams.

The Buckinghams were a genuine crowd pleaser illuminating the
audience with their opening hit tune "Don't You Care," just the first
of a long string of hits from 1967. They followed their set with
"Mercy Mercy Me," "Hey Baby (They're Playing Our Song)," "Expressway
to Your Heart," (A cover tune by The Soul Survivors sung soulfully by
Fortuna) "Susan," and then their finale #1 hit single "Kind of a Drag."

Without missing a beat, The Grassroots walked on stage dedicating the
night to original frontman Rob Grill who died in Orlando this month.
Grill had been the voice of the band for almost 45 years. The band
opened with their 1969 chart- topper, "I'd Wait A Million Years."
Although Vocalist/Bassist Mark Dawson and Guitarist Dusty Hanvey are
not original members of the group they played all the classic Grass
Roots tunes impeccably. The bands next selections were "Heaven Knows"
and "Sooner or Later" a Top 10 hit in 1971.

The band played "Let's Live for Today" next; a sorrowful and haunting
reminder of Rob Grill's absence. The Roots continued with "Where Were
You When I Needed You," "Temptation Eyes" and their 1968 finale
"Midnight Confessions." Dusty Hanvey's guitar licks were impressive
on all the bands classic hits.

The Association graced the Hall stage next with three of their
original members. Vocals: Russ Giguere, Vocals/ Guitars: Jim Yester
and Vocals/ Guitar: Larry Ramos. The band opened the historic
Monterey Pop Festival in 1967. The group wasted no time playing; they
began their set with their #1 hit from 1967 "Windy," which the band
said played on The Smothers Brothers Comedy Hour. "Windy" was
followed by "Everything That Touches You" and "Never My Love," one of
the most requested songs of all-time. Russ Giguere reminded the crowd
of all the legendary groups that The Association had toured with in
the 60's- including The Mamas and the Papas. And as a tribute they
played "California Dreaming." Next another #1 in 1966 "Cherish"
followed by the electrifying single "Along Comes Mary" which brought
the happy peace lovin' Clearwater crowd to its feet.

Without an intermission or breath to be taken, Paul Revere & the
Raiders immortal songster Mark Lindsay energetically danced his way
across the stage as if he were still performing with the original
Raiders on Dick Clark's TV program "Where the Action is." The only
thing missing was his American Revolutionary uniform and his (que) or
ponytail. Lindsay looked remarkably fit for a 69 year old rock star.
After an interview that I did with Mark, I suspected that he would be
in exceptional physical condition. Mark revealed to me that he walked
six miles a day and he sounded like he was more than half his age on the phone.

Lindsay opened his set with "Steppin' Out" followed by "Just Like Me"
a second chart- topping tune from the same great album Just Like
Us!.At this point it was apparent that Mark Lindsay's voice had
improved with age like a fine bottle of wine. Lindsay sang a little
bit from the theme song of the TV show that made the Raiders so
popular -Where the Action is. The song became a huge hit for Freddy
"Boom Boom" Cannon in 1965. Mark followed with a perfect rendition
of Raiders classic "Hungry."

Lindsay continued his set with the Raiders early recording of Richard
Berry's penned rock and roll standard "Louie, Louie" and then
electrified the audience with a medley of 60's classic rock treasures
" Gimme Some Lovin'," " Sunshine Of Your Love," and The Who's "My
Generation." Lindsay showed the crowd that if his musical direction
had taken a Hard Rock course, his extraordinary lead vocals and
showmanship would have placed him amongst the elite. Lindsay's Hard
Rockin' vocals were extremely impressive.

Mark Lindsay followed with his solo hit from 1969 "Arizona" and then
another Paul Revere & the Raiders classic "Good Thing" from 1967.
Mark commented to the audience that he's lived all over the U.S.A.
but enjoys his new home in Florida the best.

Before playing his next selection "Indian Reservation," Lindsay told
the Clearwater audience that the song was the biggest selling record
in CBS's catalog before Michael Jackson's "Billie Jean." Mark Lindsay
concluded his set with the all-time favorite Paul Revere & the
Raiders tune "Kicks," bringing the crowd to its feet once again.

Then the headliners for the evening appeared, Mark Volman(Flo) and
Howard Kaylan(Eddie) of The Turtles, both comically dressed in Lady
Gaga's meat dress and entered the stage to her big hit "Bad Romance."
Then they quickly jumped into an awesome performance of their #3 hit
of 1967 "She'd Rather Be With Me."

The Turtles followed with "You Baby" and their breakthrough Bob Dylan
Cover tune "It Aint Me Babe." The band sounded as they did back in
the 60's with a solid stage performance. I took a hard stare around
the Hall to watch the reactions of the Clearwater audience during The
Turtles performance. The packed house seemed to be in a state of
euphoria, perhaps reliving all those wonderful memories from a
simpler time when it was all about the music and having fun.

During their set Flo and Eddie would also comically entertain the
crowd. Something they did so well over the years. And I was impressed
by Mark Volman's vocals on his segment of Jim Morrison tunes. Their
next song was "You Showed Me" and Howard Kaylan Showed me that his
magnificent vocal range was still unblemished.

The band announced that it will be playing with Dweezil Zappa soon
and jumped into Frank Zappa's instrumental jazz fusion composition
"Peaches en Regalia."

The Turtles set concluded with a wonderful rendition of "Elanore"
another hit from their concept album called The Turtles Present the
Battle of the Bands.

And then the huge finale for the evening "Happy Together," bringing
the entire Ruth Eckerd Hall crowd to their feet.

All the groups were then brought back on stage one by one to sing
their finale hit songs one more time. And then assembled together to
take a final bow.

It was a havn' a good time rockin' evening at Ruth Eckerd Hall in
Clearwater last night.

AFTER THE SHOW I was sent on a mission by my sister- in- law Mary
from Maryland to deliver her cherished original Paul Revere & the
Raiders record albums and Teen magazines featuring Mark Lindsay and
deliver them personally to the man himself. During our interview I
had mentioned to Mark that Mary was a huge fan. But more importantly
she found tranquility in listening to Mark's voice during troubling
times. She and Mark even somewhat resemble each other.

I handed Mary's Paul Revere & the Raiders collection to Mark Lindsay
after the show. Mark was ecstatic; believe it or not, many rock stars
do not have most of their original recordings on vinyl. But here's
what a classy guy Mark Lindsay was, he wanted to thank Mary
personally over the phone. So from my cell phone, I dialed Mary and
then handed it over to Mark. The two of them engaged in high quality
and entertaining chat and then Mark Lindsay sang to her on the phone.
It was a very special moment indeed for sis-in-law Mary. Thank you Mark!

I'd like to personally thank Jeff from RockStarPR and the entire
staff at Ruth Eckerd Hall for their wonderful and gracious
hospitality. You'll always get my vote as the #1 venue in the U.S.A.

Interviews are forthcoming from various artists who are performing at
Hippiefest and appearing at Ruth Eckerd Hall on Saturday August 27th.

Contact Ray Shasho at rockraymond.shasho@gmail.com
.

Paul McCartney and the famous ‘Paul is Dead’ rumor

Russ Gibb talks about Paul McCartney and the famous 'Paul is Dead' rumor

http://www.pressandguide.com/articles/2011/07/19/news/doc4e25ce275f18b054541854.txt?viewmode=fullstory

July 19, 2011
By Kurt Anthony Krug

DEARBORN ­ In a rare interview, Russ Gibb discusses his involvement
in the "Paul is Dead" urban legend about singer Paul McCartney of the
legendary Beatles.

"I want to be begin by saying Paul McCartney is alive and well ­ I'm
sure of that," said Gibb, a Dearborn resident.

In fact, McCartney will be performing Sunday at Comerica Park in Detroit.

"I didn't think anything much about the Beatles except I'd play them
on the radio. I liked them a lot, particularly Paul. Interestingly
enough, I had met the Beatles when they first came to Detroit (in
1964)... As a DJ, we were all lined up in the office. They were
brought in and we each shook hands. That's about it; we didn't really
talk with them… And they were whisked away to do their show," recalled Gibb.

"All I remember is looking out the office door and into the theater ­
it was teeming with little girls… and they were screaming. It was
like a perpetual scream of pain. It was constant, it didn't let up.
Looking at this sea of little adolescents, I thought, 'My God.' Then
when they started to play, I could hardly hear them because of the
screaming. These girls were flinging themselves all over the place,
so I left. I couldn't hear anything."

"The Paul is Dead" myth began in 1969 when the Beatles were about to
disband. It was on Sunday, Oct. 12, 1969 when Gibb, a DJ at WKNR-FM,
received a phone call from an unidentified individual.

"Some kid called me and said, 'Hi, Russ. Did you hear Paul McCartney
is dead.' I poo-pooed it and laughed. I said, 'I heard every rock
star is either dead, a dope-dealer, beats his children, beats his
wife, or something,'" explained Gibb.

Then the kid asked Gibb if he ever played the Beatles' song
"Revolution 9" from the "White Album" backwards.

"When you played it backwards, it said, 'Turn me on, dead man… Turn
me on, dead man… Turn me on, dead man.' That floored me. It wasn't
garbled – it was very distinct. I put that on and within 3-4 minutes,
the phone lines were jammed in my studio," said Gibb.

Within 10 minutes, phones were ringing off the hook. WKNR owner Frank
Maruca called and asked Gibb what was happening.

"By now, people were pounding on the windows. Callers were giving me
more clues. Frank said, 'Whatever you're doing, keep doing it.' He
realized the numbers were skyrocketing… Frank came and said, 'Milk
it.' He was a genius programmer. So now the other DJs are getting in
on it because people were calling," said Gibb.

Gibb's show was extended. He learned playing "Strawberry Fields
Forever" backwards, it said, "I buried Paul." The famous "Abbey Road"
album cover symbolized a funeral procession with McCartney as the
corpse, given his bare feet and being out of step with his fellow Beatles.

Gibb called rock star Eric Clapton, his one-time roommate, in London
and asked him if he knew anything about the rumor.

"(Clapton) said, 'What are you talking about? No, no, no, you yanks
are crazy.' I asked, 'When's the last time you saw him?' He said,
'Well, I…' and he stopped… He paused and said, 'Y'know, come to think
of it, I haven't seen him in 4-5 weeks.' When he said that, it took
on a life of its own. Now it became 'Could it be?' instead of 'This
is a joke,'" said Gibb.

"Paul is Dead" raged on for about a week. Gibb was getting calls from
all over the world and added fuel to the fire with a WKNR special
"The Beatle Plot."

"In it, we said Paul is symbolically dead. The reason why we said
that is there were rumors (the Beatles) were feuding, (McCartney) and
Lennon particularly. Several people I knew in the London music
community that I talked to over those 3-4 days told me they were
gonna break up... I called the Beatles' office and wanted to talk to
Paul. Somebody came on the line and claimed to be Paul, but it turned
out ­ we think ­ it was a girl who had a voice that sounded just like
him. It wasn't really Paul," recalled Gibb.

Eventually, Gibb spoke to Derek Taylor, the Beatles' publicist.

"(Taylor) said, 'Russ, what else can a man do but be alive? How can
you prove it by just being alive? That's all you need to do. You
don't have to prove anything else.' That put it to rest," said Gibb

That and the cover story about McCartney in Life Magazine's Nov. 7,
1969 issue. In the interview, McCartney stated: "Perhaps the rumor
started because I haven't been much in the press lately. I have done
enough press for a lifetime, and I don't have anything to say these
days. I am happy to be with my family and I will work when I work. I
was switched on for 10 years and I never switched off. Now I am
switching off whenever I can. I would rather be a little less famous
these days."

Gibb never learned the name of the caller who tipped him off about
"Revolution 9.""Over the years, I've had three different people claim
that they were the kid who called me that day. I don't know which
one; I have no idea. I'm quite willing to let all of them take any
credit they can get out of it because that's all they get," he said.

Gibb had the chance to meet McCartney in 1996 when he was performing
at what is now DTE Music Theater but didn't go because it was at a
moment's notice.

"So I've oftentimes wondered what we would say to one another if we
ever met now. First of all, I'd apologize to the man for any problems
I've caused him," said Gibb. "And I'd also say, 'By the way, I love
your stuff… your music.' Paul is not dead. He will never die. His
music is universal and immortal."

.

Jane Fonda And America’s Vietnam War

Jane Fonda And America's Vietnam War

http://www.countercurrents.org/chowdhury210711.htm

By Farooque Chowdhury
21 July, 2011

Jane Fonda is news again. The issue is America's Vietnam War.
Memories of the war still haunt many. The war memories are also
bright in the brains of those who resisted and opposed the war.

The acrid memory is difficult to blank out for those who had to
accept defeat. For those standing against imperialism, it is
impossible to forget the war.

In mid-July, in a blog posting on show business website TheWrap.com,
Jane Fonda wrote that she was scheduled to appear on home shopping TV
network QVC to introduce her book Prime Time about aging and life
cycles. But QVC reported receiving angry calls regarding her anti-war
activism of the 1960s and '70s, and it decided to cancel Jane's
appearance. She wrote at the website: "[T]his has gone on far too
long, this spreading of lies about me! … I love my country. I have
never done anything to hurt my country or the men and women who have
fought and continue to fight for us." QVC, a unit of Liberty Media
Corp, acknowledged Fonda's appearance was cancelled, but said it was
because of a "programming change." She described it as QVC's caving
in to "extremist" pressure to cancel her appearance.

Jane Fonda, daughter of late screen legend Henry Fonda, won Oscars
for roles in the films "Coming Home" (1978) and "Klute" (1971). Her
1972 visit to Hanoi, the capital of erstwhile North Vietnam, angered
Vietnam War mongers. They nicknamed her "Hanoi Jane". She is still
ridiculed by hawks as they fail to get rid of memories of defeat.
During her North Vietnam visit, she posed for photos showing her
sitting atop a Viet Cong anti-aircraft gun seat. She expressed regret
about those images.

An Empire's manipulation with its subjects' minds, its power for the
manipulation, and its confusing definitions get exposed with this
incident. To it, aggression is patriotism, opposing war of aggression
is synonymous to treachery. It turns indifferent to people making
supreme sacrifices for independence, sovereignty, honor and dignity,
and the right to self-determination. Its statements are made to
appear authentic, although the authenticity stands on a void
foundation of propaganda and media manipulation. It makes "truths",
and unmakes those when necessary; it hides truths and leads eyes and
ears to its desired target that it intends to appear as stark fact
although a single ingredient of fact is absent there. On behalf of
the entire humanity, brave Vietnam stood for humane senses and
duties. The Empire cannot provide an explanation to the supreme
sacrifices the monks made on the streets of Saigon (now, Ho Chi Minh
City), it cannot defend its action in My Lai, it cannot dissect the
murder of Nguyen Van Troi.

That's the reason the "American public", as Jane Fonda writes about
America's Indo-China War (the war the Empire carried on in Vietnam,
Laos and Cambodia only a few decades back) in her My Life So Far,
"did not yet know that the United States had been secretly bombing
Cambodia since March 1969. Nor did we know that U.S. bombers, from
1964 through 1969, had secretly obliterated an entire civilization in
the Plain of Jars in northeastern Laos."

Jane tried to know the truth. Time keeps a role for itself in life.
In many cases, age influences posture and type of action of
individuals. So, Jane "mistakenly thought that the more militant
[she] appeared, the more seriously [she] would be taken." (ibid.)

That was not only a time of America's war against peoples in
Vietnam-Laos-Cambodia; that was a time "an America at war with
itself…"; that was a time "antiwar sentiment was growing among
active-duty servicemen"; that was a time "Master Sergeant Donald
Duncan, a much decorated member of the special forces, the first
enlisted man in Vietnam to be nominated for the Legion of Merit",
brought to Jane "newspaper articles about GI dissent and told stories
about the ways servicemen were being denied their constitutional
rights." That was a time "soldiers questioned why, once they put on a
uniform, they were deprived of the rights they had been conscripted
to defend – the rights to speak freely, petition, assemble, and
publish – and that when they claimed those rights, unjust punishments
were meted out with no legal recourse." That was a time "while the
civilian anti-war movement was primarily white and middle-class, the
GI movement was made up of working-class kids, sons and daughters …
of farmers and hard hats, kids who couldn't afford college
deferments, and a preponderance of rural and urban poor, particularly
blacks and Latinos." "[W]hile dissent within the military had started
in the mid-sixties mainly as random, individual acts, after the Tet
offensive, things began to change. Dissident was no longer a matter
of individual acts. GIs began to organize, not just around the
growing antiwar sentiment in the military rank, but in response to
the undemocratic nature of the military system itself." (ibid.) That
was a time, as Robert D. Heinl Jr., retired Marine Corps colonel and
military historian, describes: "[O]ur army that now remains in
Vietnam is in a state approaching collapse, with individual units
avoiding or having refused combat, murdering their officers and
non-commissioned officers, drug-ridden, and dispirited where not
near-mutinous." (Armed Forces Journal, quoted in My Life So Far) That
was a time she "had heard and read things that threw into question
everything [she] believed about [her] country." Jane felt she
"couldn't slow down while people's rights were being violated, while
people were being killed, while the war continued." That was a time
"the war had become an American tragedy…" That was a time in "a
battle that pits bamboo against B-52, the victory for bamboo
symbolizes hope for the planet." (ibid.)

These incidents and senses took her to Hanoi. She watched from the
aircraft window, before her plane made landing, her "country's planes
– bombing a city where" she was "about to be received as a welcomed
guest." (ibid.) She learns in Vietnam: "It is the long-term,
cumulative effects of seemingly weak things that achieve the
impossible." During that trip, she innocently and mistakenly sat atop
an anti-aircraft gun seat. "But the gun was inactive, there were no
planes overhead…" (ibid.) Consequently, she was criticized,
condemned, a call was made to boycott her films.

But the "story" doesn't conclude there as it didn't begin there also.
As a flash back an editorial comment can be recollected that can help
fill in the gaps of the war path: "And", Paul M Sweezy, Leo Huberman
and Harry Magdoff wrote editorial comment in June 1954 in Monthly
Review, "if we send American forces into Indo-China, as Dulles and
other high government spokesmen have repeatedly threatened to do in
the last two months, we shall be guilty of aggression ourselves."
("What Every American Should Know About Indo-China")

But the aggression was made.

"It was June 14, 1965, and Johnson reached out to former President
Eisenhower for his counsel on the Vietnam War. A decision was looming
over whether to expand the U.S. troop commitment to the conflict.
Eisenhower advised not only supporting South Vietnamese forces in
action but also urged direct offensive action by American troops. 'We
have got to win,' he said. … Meanwhile, the debate among Johnson's
advisors was growing. 'In raising our commitment from 50,000 to
100,000 or more men and deploying most of the increment in combat
roles we are beginning a new war -- the United States directly
against the Viet Cong,' Under Secretary of State George Ball warned
President Johnson. 'Perhaps the large-scale introduction of American
forces with their concentrated fire power will force Hanoi and the
Viet Cong to the decision we are seeking. On the other hand,' he
presciently cautioned, 'we may not be able to fight the war
successfully enough -- even with 500,000 Americans in South Vietnam
-- to achieve this purpose.' Ball confronted President Johnson with
lessons from recent history. 'The French fought a war in Viet-Nam,
and were finally defeated -- after seven years of bloody struggle and
when they still had 250,000 combat-hardened veterans in the field,
supported by an army of 205,000 Vietnamese.' Ball's dissent was
aggressively countered by the administration's hawks. Secretary of
State Dean Rusk and Secretary of Defense Robert McNamara strenuously
argued that if South Vietnam fell, Thailand would be lost, too. Rusk
envisioned a wave of falling dominoes – even India would collapse
under the control of the Chinese communists." (Gordon M Goldstein,
former international security advisor to the strategic planning unit
of the executive office of the UN secretary-general, Lessons in
Disaster, 2008)

The number of the US forces increased. The war escalated as the years
rolled on. The aggression experienced effective resistance unparallel
in human history. The ruling classes in the Empire faced a critical
time full with uncertain choices.

The resistance to the aggression and the significant resentment
within the aggressor forces, as Jane Fonda mentioned, weakened the
aggressor. They had to concede defeat that saved them from bigger and
graver defeat.

But Jane is still being condemned for sitting atop a seat of an
inactive AA gun.

And, the Lessons in Disaster are not being learnt in the Middle East,
in Africa, in Latin America as empires deny learning from history, as
that is a limitation of Naked Imperialism.
--

Dhaka-based freelancer Farooque Chowdhury contributes on socioeconomic issue.

.

'60s Memoir Troublemaker Speaks to Us Now

'60s Memoir Troublemaker Speaks to Us Now

huffingtonpost.com | Jul 18th 2011 10:14 AM

Veteran political activist Bill Zimmerman's new book, Troublemaker: A Memoir From the Front Lines of the Sixties, is more than a compelling read. This vivid tale of the author's participation in the civil rights and anti-Vietnam war movements not only sets the record straight on a frequently misunderstood era, it also helps us re-examine contemporary issues.

Zimmerman's Vietnam chapters got me thinking about American wars and the soldiers who fight them. Frustrated by Barack Obama's failure to deliver on his promise of peace -- he promised only to fight the "right" wars, didn't he? -- I'm tempted to believe it might be time to reinstitute the draft.

My sense that there's an inverse relationship between the draft and war -- more of the former produces less of the latter -- isn't original with me, of course. The conventional wisdom about Vietnam was that the peace movement began in earnest only when middle-class men were pulled from polite society and dumped into the jungles of Southeast Asia.

My own experience was all too common. Toward the end of the war, I received a draft notice and was required to report for a physical. I got on a bus with a couple dozen other anxiety-ridden zombies, but well equipped courtesy of my family's doctor, who supplied me with notes and X-rays to support my medical condition. The U.S. Army doc I met, upon consideration of these documents, concluded, "You're a sick man." I felt as relieved as the cancer patient who learns his tumor has suddenly disappeared.

But my euphoria came with a huge asterisk: I was safe, but someone without the time and the resources to pursue such documentation might well have been headed for the war zone in my place.

By 1973, the draft had been eliminated in favor of an all-volunteer force. Antiwar activity, especially among the young, faded dramatically. You didn't have to be a cynic to believe that the massive campus protests of the '60s had been more about self-interest than an authentic moral stand.

Today, the volunteer force remains, and conventional wisdom has it that a draft might have slowed or even stopped the race to war in Iraq and Afghanistan. "Had there been a draft, the war in Iraq might never have been fought -- or would have produced the civil protests of the Viet Nam War era," columnist Richard Cohen writes. Other commentators, including military historians, have observed that the lack of a draft removes the connection between most Americans and the Iraq and Afghanistan misadventures and hence explains the absence of a meaningful, widespread antiwar movement.

Zimmerman takes a more nuanced view. In Troublemaker, he paints a multi-dimensional picture of the antiwar movement from beginning to end. And he demonstrates that the draft was not quite so essential to the peace movement as I'd remembered.

"Anti-draft feelings were not responsible for launching the antiwar movement, nor did the disappearance of the draft lead to the movement's demise," Zimmerman told me. "Many of the first participants in the antiwar movement were veterans of the civil rights movement. Driven by moral outrage of that intensity, a movement can succeed in putting an issue before the country even if it lacks the numbers to force its will on the larger society. Then, once the country engages on that issue, self-interest rather than moral concerns begin to play the prominent role."

As for Iraq, Zimmerman notes, "At the start of the war in Iraq, in March 2003, there were millions on the streets and millions more lobbying against the pending invasion. No draft, just massive antiwar protest, the kind that took us years to build during the Vietnam era."

That these early Bush-era protests never turned into an effective antiwar movement was not because of the absence of a draft, Zimmerman believes, but rather due to confusion around 9/11 coupled with the fact that the Bushies couldn't have cared less that a great majority of Americans came to despise the war.

Though Zimmerman devotes the bulk of his memoir to the '60s, he also gives readers a front row seat to his post-'60s activities, which have included a key role at Wounded Knee -- check out his previous book, Airlift to Wounded Knee -- and his tireless efforts to help progressive candidates win elections and to promote such issues as public campaign financing, reasonable assisted suicide and medical marijuana. Another accomplishment: Zimmerman and his partner Pacy Markman acted as moveon.org's first media consultants.

I can't know how I'd feel about wartime conscription if I were of draft age today. I hope I'd take inspiration from Troublemaker and resist conscientiously instead of relying on a doctor's note.



Original Page: http://www.huffingtonpost.com/michael-sigman/60s-memoir-troublemaker-s_b_899696.html

Shared from Read It Later

Monster of rock

Monster of rock

m.metrotimes.com | Jul 19th 2011

First of all, let's get something out of the way; Cactus guitarist Jim McCarty and I have a mildly sticky recent history because back in March 2010, I wrote a feature about another of his other projects, the Hell Drivers. I called them a "bar band," albeit the "Motor City's greatest bar band ever." Still, McCarty, a few band mates and a ton of the Hell Drivers' followers took offense. Hate letters flooded Metro Times and Facebook went berserk with pissed fans convinced it was sacrilege to refer to McCarty and drummer Johnny "Bee" Badanjek, as bar band guys. I disagree, incidentally, and stand by my feature; after all, the band was playing '70s rock in bars. Interestingly, the group soon ditched its "Detroit revue" format, changed its name to the Rockets, and so began a return. To be fair, the new Rockets kill every venue they play.

So when the reunited Cactus was booked to play Ferndale again, my first thought was, "Uh-oh, I'll have to interview this guy McCarty again." I was half-expecting an expletive-ridden vocal explosion when I phoned him. Truth be told, he was happy to close the book and move on. That's great because McCarty is the best rock 'n' roll guitarist ever to have come out of Detroit (even if his playing was judged solely on his work with the Buddy Miles Express), and Cactus is, without doubts, incredible. And look at it like this: McCarty recorded with Hendrix. He played with Mitch Ryder and the Detroit Wheels before Cactus, after which he joined Buddy Miles and then the Rockets. Shit, Les Paul recently won a Grammy for his cover of McCarty's "69 Freedom Special." You couldn't find a guitarist with a better rock 'n' roll pedigree, one with better cred, anywhere on earth. 

Cactus formed in late '69 by Vanilla Fudge duo Carmine Appice (drums) and Tim Bogert (bass). You'll note that both Jeff Beck and Rod Stewart passed through the lineup, which really settled down (as much as this band ever could) early in 1970, when McCarty was brought in alongside singer and fellow Detroiter Rusty Day (formerly of the Amboy Dukes). 

McCarty quit Cactus in late '71, and Day was soon fired, but in those two years the band recorded three albums (Cactus, One Way... Or Another and Restrictions) whose stature grows each year as new generations of kids discover them. Of course, as is so often the case with those who create music of real value — Cactus wasn't recognized in their time. But the heavy riffing and Appice's hammerhead drumming influenced a ton of metal and stoner bands (Monster Magnet, Kyruss, Nugent, etc.).

"It's surprising to me," McCarty says. "The band was together for two years. It was kind of an experiment that never really gelled for me. There were some great moments, but then there was a lot of banging heads together. Eventually I left because it was a frustrating experience for me. I figured that was it. We were together for two years, we did three albums and there were some nice things there. But then down through the years it started developing this cult following. I still get guys in various hard rock and even metal bands that cite Cactus as an influence. Van Halen loved the group. I remember talking to Eddie about it. I saw that Anvil movie a year or so ago. The two Canadian guys still trying to make it — they're standing in front of the house where they grew up, talking about their influences. He said, 'Oh yeah, a lot of Cactus. Who the fuck listened to Cactus?' I just fell in the aisle with tears coming out of my eyes."

McCarty remembers frustration leading him to quit Cactus back in '71. "I don't wanna point fingers, but Tim was a little too flamboyant for my taste," McCarty says. "There were a lot of occasions where it would seem to be three guys playing, and each guy was in his own separate little room, as opposed to a band playing together. After a while, it just became too frustrating."

Appice and Bogert recorded one further album, Ot 'N' Sweaty, without Day and McCarty, before calling it quits. In 1982, Day and his son were killed in a shooting by musician Ron Sanders. However, Cactus re-emerged in 2006 featuring McCarty, Appice, Bogert and former Savoy Brown man Jimmy Kunes on vocals. The band dropped the Cactus V album. "When we first came together, it wasn't a question of doing any gigs," McCarty says. "This fellow Randy Pratt is an extremely wealthy individual and a huge Cactus fan. He had a studio set up in his mansion on Long Island, and that's where we recorded the reunion CD. When Carmine and Tim were in New York with Vanilla Fudge he would call me and make me an offer I couldn't refuse. I would come in, and over three days we laid out a bunch of tracks and everybody just had a ball. It was a lot of fun. ... When Jimmy had done the vocals we put the CD out and it got very nice reviews. The band started doing some dates here and there — along the East Coast and down South. Then the shit started happening. We did a festival in Sweden and in the third song, Tim's bass amp blows up. They plug into the spare bass amp and that stops working. They had to plug into the monitor system, which was like a horror show. That sums up the whole Cactus thing. It became like a curse. It was either me a complete physical wreck or the equipment not working. We did the NAMM show, around 2007, and I've got Pat Travers, Warren Haynes and Joe Bonamassa on the side of the stage, and my equipment starts shorting out. It was beyond belief. Hopefully this time the equipment will be working right. I have a good feeling. When this thing is on, it's a great little band."

McCarty is convinced that the current lineup of Cactus does nothing to disrespect the memory of the much-loved original, despite now missing Bogert, who has all but retired, leaving just McCarty and Appice from the classic lineup. "Carmine is one of the greatest hard rock drummers in the world," McCarty says. "He's one of the guys who invented that style of drumming. It's not just a question of being good at it. He and John Bonham invented that school of drumming. So Carmine's just a lot of fun to play with. Jimmy is just terrific. The job he did on the reunion CD was amazing. I was missing playing with these guys. I've got the Rockets and I was having a lot of fun with them, but the Rockets are a high energy rock 'n' roll band whereas Cactus is a hard rock band. It's a different musical sensibility."

Carmine Appice agrees with his guitarist: "It is a great lineup, today. In the '70s the business was different. There was more jamming and it was less about songs. Jimmy Kunes is a better singer, but Rusty was a rebel and that gave Cactus this underground thing. There was no other bass player like Tim Bogert, but Pete Bremy [Bremy's first show with Cactus is in Detroit this week] who plays with Vanilla Fudge does a great job playing the Cactus parts now."

I couldn't resist asking McCarty which drummer he thinks is the most badass, Badanjek or Appice. The guitarist was annoyingly but understandably diplomatic. "They're two of the best," he says. "It's like comparing John Bonham to Charlie Watts; two entirely different schools of drumming."

Friday, July 22, at the Magic Bag, 22920 Woodward Ave., Ferndale; 248-544-3030, with the Muggs supporting. 



Original Page: http://m.metrotimes.com/music/monster-of-rock-1.1177445

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Merry Prankster gets serious about sharing his stories

Merry Prankster gets serious about sharing his stories · OPB News

by ERICK BENGELThe Daily, news.opb.org
July 19th 2011

Merry Prankster gets serious about sharing his stories

Discuss

Ken Babbs, one of the lead Merry Pranksters and a major figure of the psychedelic counter-culture phenomenon, read from his recently published novel, “Who Shot the Water Buffalo?” at 14 Street Coffee House in Astoria Saturday. He followed this with a book-signing at Godfathers’s Books Sunday.

“If you like to read books, you’ll like this book,” laughed Babbs, whose delivery was one part manic preacher and three parts stand-up comedian.

Babbs’s novel, which grew from his experiences as a helicopter pilot in Vietnam, is a kinetic and unrelenting adventure laced with the horrors of warfare and the morbid humor required to cope with it. If “A Confederacy of Dunces” was set in a Southeast Asian war zone and written in breathlessly free-form prose, it would read rather like Babbs’s creation.

“I like a book that moves ahead, that doesn’t backtrack, one that keeps going all the time,” Babbs said. “I don’t like books that have psychological ramifications on why people do things. I’m always like, ‘Get on with it! Get back to the plot!’”

The tonal shifts between black comedy and grim reality more truthfully convey Babbs’s experience in Vietnam than a somber antiwar novel would have done, he said.

“One of the weird things about Vietnam is that it was a psychedelic experience without psychedelics,” Babbs said. “One minute you’d be raising hell in a bar, or having fun at an R&R in Tokyo, and the next you’d be out there with your heart in your throat, driving into a zone with bullets flying at you.”

Babbs didn’t set out to write a “message book” or a cautionary tale like other novels in the genre, but simply the kind of story that he enjoys reading.

“This is strictly an adventure book. What these men in a foreign country go through could’ve happened in any war. It could’ve been the Peloponnesian War, could’ve been World War I, could’ve been ‘Star Wars,’” Babbs said. “It’s the adventures that count. Vietnam is just the setting.”

How it all began

The genesis of “Water Buffalo” was a 40-year affair with a 38-year hiatus between the first and final drafts. Babbs began writing it as a Marine lieutenant stationed in the Mekong Delta in 1962. The following year, Babbs sent a first draft to his agent Sterling Lord. The next year, he and Ken Kesey and the rest of the Pranksters drove the bus illustriously christened “Further” to New York City, where Babbs met with Lord.

Although Lord offered suggestion, Babbs was no longer interested in completing the novel, which continued to sit, dormant, as he and Kesey took to filmmaking – “Intrepid Traveller and His Merry Band of Pranksters Look for a Kool Place #1” sprung from this era. 

At one point, Babbs lost the entire “Water Buffalo” manuscript while moving. Fortunately, an old squadron buddy had requested a copy in the late 60s, and Babbs had sold the copy to him for $50. The friend returned the manuscript in the mid 70s.

His work on “Water Buffalo” continued to fall by the wayside until three years ago.

“I said to myself, ‘At my age, if I’m going to finish the things I’ve started, I’d better get on it,’” the 75-year-old Babbs recalled.

By then, Babbs knew exactly how to write it. He and Kesey, who died in 2001, had collaborated on a handful of projects over the years, culminating in the novel “The Last Go Round,” published in 1994. Kesey, author of “One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest” and “Sometimes a Great Notion,” had managed to impart to Babbs just about everything he had learned about the craft of fiction.

“It helped to have Kesey in my arsenal,” Babbs said.

His visit to Astoria marked the end of his statewide book tour. He will soon be hitting the Midwest and Eastern United States.

“I’m the oldest rookie in the big leagues of publishing,” Babbs said. “But I’m not satisfied with that; I’m going for rookie-of-the-year!”

Babbs has another book in the pipeline, “Cronies,” about his adventures with Kesey and the rest of the Pranksters. Tom Wolfe and Hunter S. Thompson have written on this theme, but, remaining faithful to his Prankster origins, Babbs’s book will be anything but a literal-minded memoir.

“It’s going to be a burlesque, which is a legitimate literary form defined as ‘historical occurrence embellished with inventions and exaggerations,’” Babbs said. “It’ll also let me do my ‘word-jazz’ thing again.”

Merry Prankster gets serious about sharing his stories

Read more on dailyastorian.com.



Original Page: http://news.opb.org/article/merry_prankster_gets_serious_about_sharing_his_stories/

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Abbie Hoffman Was Here

Abbie Hoffman Was Here

by Mike Rose, truthdig.com
July 22nd 2011

By Mr. Fish

Abbie Hoffman, the wild-haired personification of both the noun and adjective form of the word “riot” in the 1960s, nostalgically revered by the current liberal Democratic wing of the Establishment Party as the Tourette’s of the Anti-Establishmentarian Movement and the joy-buzzing co-confounder of the Yippies, his significance neutered by his infamy, his legacy no more useful to contemporary radical politics than the miniskirt or the lava lamp, famously said, “You measure democracy by the freedom it gives its dissidents, not the freedom it gives its assimilated conformists.” This was in 1989, when Hoffman was just 52, the same year that he killed himself, making everyone wonder if freedom wasn’t really just another word for nothing left to lose. His body was found in a converted turkey coop near New Hope, Pa., where I found myself a week ago, seated behind a small lopsided table on the sidewalk outside of Farley’s Bookshop, trying to sell my new book of cartoons and essays about how we’re all doomed to tourists and retirees in white linen shorts, crisp running shoes and “God Bless America!” T-shirts.

Roasting beneath the spectacular rage of the mid-July sun while the delicious scent of Abbie Hoffman’s martyred ghost swirled around my starvation for attention like a home-cooked meal, I started to imagine that if only my book loaded with chocolate chips and cut into bite-sized pieces and I were wearing an apron I might gain some acknowledgement from the public.

A week earlier I was at the Greenlight Bookstore in Brooklyn, drinking red wine from a plastic tumbler and standing before a microphone while the immense rain-soaked windows behind me fogged and perspired, the body heat and carbon dioxide from the overflow crowd overpowering the air conditioning like Bolshevism. The event had been organized by my publisher, Akashic Books, and featured short readings and presentations by a handful of the house’s writers and felt not unlike what I imagined poetry readings at the Six Gallery in San Francisco must’ve been like in the 1950s, more like an Irish wake for the written word than a subdued Lutheran funeral. Following closely behind a short presentation by Adam Mansbach, author of “Go the F**k to Sleep,” this year’s “Chicken Soup for the Soul,” I couldn’t resist saying to the audience, in mock disgust, “Before I begin, let me just say that I’ve spent my entire artistic career saying ‘fuck’ to the most despicable politicians and the most ruthless warmongering men and women of industry and high finance, never realizing that if only I’d said it to sleepless children I’d be on the New York Times bestseller list and not counting nickels to buy my toilet paper.” It was a party.

I remember back when I first saw Dick Lester’s deeply significant 1964 film masterpiece, “A Hard Day’s Night,” and how the scene at the discothèque changed my life forever. It was the part of the movie where we find our lovable heroes, the Beatles, tired of being quarantined in their hotel room between public appearances and they decide to sneak out and go to a club to dance and meet girls. Most remarkable to me, and I was probably 12 at the time, was how cool John Lennon looked by not dancing as the other three were, choosing instead to sit and drink and talk—to philosophize, I guessed, judging by the attentiveness of his listeners and the soigné manner in which he held his cigarette!—with those around him. It seemed antithetical to all that I had been led to believe by the dominant culture about what grooviness and hipness were supposed to look like. What was hipness, particularly for a boy, supposed to look like? Well, the way I understood it was that hipness was largely determined by how well a fella could throw and catch a ball, how handy he was with tools and how gracefully he was able to communicate nonverbally with the opposite sex, whether through dancing, kissing or snubbing. Yet here was Lennon, in a black turtleneck and surrounded by beautiful women, appearing absolutely at home in his own skin, no ball or hammer or ChapStick anywhere in sight, just straight confabulation, pure and simple. The idea that one could appear gorgeous merely by having a conversation was somehow wonderful to me, and I decided to make it my life’s ambition to define my own grooviness by engaging in a never-ending dialogue with as many people as I could. What would be the point, I suddenly realized, of wasting my time trying to emulate the wordless and episodic pantomime that I saw everybody else engaging in with one person at a time?

“Did you make this book yourself?” asked a sapid old lady in half glasses and a pair of powder blue Bermuda shorts approximating the size of the landmass they were named after. She was standing at my sidewalk table, having come from nowhere, caressing the cover of my book like she was hoping to provoke a purr, a needle-thin crucifix hanging from her neck on a chain the width of a thread.

“Yes,” I said, smiling up at her in my Buddy Holly glasses, fresh haircut and three-button blazer, the perfect picture of benign Christianity and cherry-cheeked Americanism. Then she opened the book and concentrated on a random page, mumbling silently to herself the gagline to one of my cartoons. In an instant the sweetness drained from her face and she closed the book and slowly returned it back to its stack, her eyes tearing as if she’d just halved a red onion the size of John the Baptist’s felled head. “Well?” I asked her.

“You should be ashamed of yourself,” she spat, turning away and marching off in the direction of a live klezmer band playing the theme to “Rocky.” What struck me as peculiar was how this woman, who no doubt had lived through the Great Depression, who had seen the bombing of Pearl Harbor and the My Lai Massacre and 9/11, who had witnessed the mind-numbing tragedy of the Holocaust and experienced the devastation of environmental decay and worldwide unrest and famine and public assassination, could react to something I’d drawn as if a new benchmark for unspeakable horror had been set.

“What is ‘Go Fish: How to Win Contempt and Influence People’ about?” I’d said at the Greenlight, referring to the book that I held in my hand, just as the light changed at a nearby intersection and a serpentine line of Brooklyn traffic slowly panned its headlights across my back and sent an elegant succession of shadows pirouetting around the bookstore like joyous slaves. “Let me answer that question by telling you about a young man who wanted nothing more in his life than to be a famous artist,” I said. “He hated school, used to get in trouble for daydreaming all the time. He would lose entire afternoons meditating on the beauty of objects, on the aesthetics of light and shadow, his fingers forever smudged with oil paint, his clothes smelling of turpentine, his heart and mind awash in hope and optimism.” I paused, afraid of choking up.

“For him,” I continued, “there was no higher calling than to be a painter who created beautiful images for the public and who lived his life in service of his craft, his canvases designed for the singular purpose of inspiring people’s souls to grow. That young artist’s name …”—I stopped, looked around the room, then back at the book in my hand—“… was Adolf Hitler. The moral of the story being that if only we lived in a world less inclined to discourage lousy artists from continuing to create shitty art and more inclined to discourage lousy politicians from becoming monsters hellbent on conquering the planet we’d be a lot better off.”

“True,” I said, “if Hitler’s artistic career had been allowed to continue and not been cut short there would be many more crappy oils of quaint churches at dusk and abandoned hay wagons at midday and misty covered bridges at dawn to clutter up the world, but at least there’d also be millions more Jewish doctors, dentists and psychiatrists to absorb all that mediocrity into gaudy frames in their waiting rooms.”

* * *

“What’s your book about,” asked a DNC canvasser with a clipboard and a blue T-shirt bearing the Obama logo just as the Pennsylvania sun was dipping behind the trees. He was watching me stack all my unsold books on my tiny table in preparation for returning them to the bookstore manager inside.

“Huh?” I said.

“Your book there,” he said. “What’s it about?”

“It’s a coming-of-rage book,” I said. He didn’t answer me. “It’s about how constructive nihilism can be when kept on the tip of a pencil and off the point of a fucking bayonet.” It had been a long day.

“You registered to vote?” he asked.

“Yeah,” I said.

“You supporting Obama?” he said.

“Why?” I said.

“I just want to know.”

“No,” I said, “I mean why should I support him?”

“Forget it,” he said.

I did.


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Original Page: http://www.truthdig.com/arts_culture/item/abbie_hoffman_was_here_20110722/?utm_source=twitterfeed&utm_medium=twitter&utm_campaign=Feed%3A+Truthdig+Truthdig%3A+Drilling+Beneath+the+Headlines

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How the drugs of the 60s changed art

How the drugs of the 60s changed art

by Emanuella Grinberg, cnn.com

(CNN) -- The words "psychedelic" and "art" likely conjure images of acid rock posters, fluorescent mushrooms and tie-dyed ... stuff.

But New York Times art critic Ken Johnson wants to expand your mind.

In "Are You Experienced? How Psychedelic Consciousness Transformed Modern Art," Johnson combines interviews and analysis with his own experiences as a stoned art lover to explore psychedelic culture's impact on fine art.

Johnson spoke with CNN about R. Crumb, tripping on the steps of the New Hampshire capitol, and why the term "psychedelic" tends to turn off people in both mainstream and high art circles.

This transcript has been edited for length and clarity.

CNN: Your book asks would art have developed as it did in the past 50 years if psychedelic culture had not been so popular. What did you find out?

Ken Johnson: In the '60s, a lot of people were experimenting with hallucinogenic drugs including marijuana, LSD and everything in between. You had acid rock posters in San Francisco associated with the Grateful Dead and Jefferson Airplane and groups like that.

But my theory is that there were probably a lot of artists that didn't necessarily want to do psychedelic-style art that were still influenced by the experience and created works that don't necessarily look psychedelic in the stereotypical way, but may be conceptually psychedelic or have a kind of philosophical way of looking at the world.

If you look at a lot of different styles in art of the past 50 years, you can see the influence of psychedelics, ranging from sculpture that looks very minimal like Richard Serra's giant, spiral, mazelike structures, to something like Robert Smithson's "Spiral Jetty," there's an interest in having art be experiential...

CNN: Can you elaborate on some features or elements of what you describe of as being "conceptually psychedelic?"

Johnson: I think the main thing is the idea that in psychedelic experience, people start thinking about their own perceptions.

They don't take their perceptions for granted, but they start thinking about how our perceptions work and how interesting it is the way we think about the world, so we think about our thinking.

CNN: Are you suggesting that you have to be stoned or high to create art or appreciate modern art?

Johnson: No, I don't think being high or stoned makes anybody more creative. If it did, there would be a lot of stoners out there making great art... I don't think you have to be high to look at it.

I think what it does do, I think any work of art encourages you to imagine your way into a state of consciousness that may not be your normal state, so you kind of suspend disbelief and allow yourself to be imaginatively seduced into a different way of relating to the world so that you study things more carefully, you think about how things are affecting you.

CNN: One might assume that this area of art criticism has been pretty thoroughly addressed. What do you hope to bring to the discussion that's new?

Johnson: People have commented on it here and there, but to my knowledge, nobody's made the claim as extensive as the one I'm making: that psychedelic culture had a really central impact on art beginning in the '60s and really changed the direction of art.

Before this, what I call the "psychedelic revolution," people tended to think of art as something you looked at in a fairly normal state of consciousness, where you looked at art in a museum and you appreciated it and maybe you got excited by it or loved it or hated it, or whatever, but all within sort of normal range of what we think of as consciousness.

Psychedelic culture had a really central impact on art beginning in the '60s and really changed the direction of art.
--Ken Johnson, art critic and author

Basically, people made judgments about art based on whether it was aesthetically good or not... after the '60s making those kinds of distinctions between good and bad art became less interesting, and the standard had more to do with "How does it alter your consciousness? How does it change you and your relationship to the world?"

It's common to take note of it in pop music... Bob Dylan's music changed in the mid-60s and The Beatles changed, and many of them have publicly acknowledged that they were changed by sampling marijuana and LSD. But very few artists in the fine art world that we associate with the Museum of Modern Art and the Whitney Museum and high end galleries in New York, artists in that world have not really acknowledged that so much.

CNN: Were you able to get anyone on the record making that claim for this book?

Johnson: Yes, I spoke with a lot of artists and some of them did, and I quote some of them.

One of my favorite quotes, there's an artist named Deborah Kass, who is known for making very vivid paintings that have to do with feminist politics. They're kind of comical and very punchy in a pop art sort of way.

And she told me that when she was going to art school in the '70s, she tripped on LSD almost every week and she said she felt it was her "moral duty as an artist to take the trip."

CNN: You share many of your own experiences with drugs in the book. What did you hope to convey with those vignettes?

Johnson: In a way, the book has a lot to do with my own autobiography, 'cause I was a teenager from '65 to about the early '70s, those were my formative years. I was a teenager at that time.

I grew up in Maine, which is a little bit far afield from the main centers of psychedelic action, but I was getting it through the media and through records and movies, and so doing this book in a way was going back to, for myself, to understanding how I was formed by the period.

And in some ways, I think that my formation was fairly typical of my generation. So that's why I wanted to make it personal.

Another thing is that a lot of art criticism is written out of a voice of objective authority and I often wonder, when I'm reading art criticism, how did this person get to this point? What's the lived experience that is the background for what this critic is saying? It's not common in art historical writing and art criticism to read that and I wanted to make that part of the story I was trying to tell.

CNN: Which artists would you point to as pioneers of this movement you're describing? Or did the movement or psychedelic culture create the artists?

Johnson: Sort of a chicken-and-egg thing, isn't it?

Well, I talk about R. Crumb, for one, and the whole underground Comix movement that began in various places, but probably its most visible place was San Francisco, where R. Crumb and S. Clay Wilson and others, Robert Williams, founded Zap Comix, which was an underground kind of publication, but spread throughout the youth culture very quickly.

I was going to college on the East Coast and discovered Zap comics as a freshman in 1971, and I found them amazing, because they were so explicitly sexual, even almost pornographic, often very violent, often very open about impolite attitudes about sex and class and race.

So, that phenomenon, you would think, would have just stayed underground, but as time went on, the influence of that kind of work was felt more and more in the art world, I think.

CNN: Another topic that comes up often in the book is the distinction between post-modern and psychedelic. Why is the distinction important?

Johnson: Well, post-modern has been the default term for art since the mid- to late '60s and it's usually thought of as synonymous with pluralism. It's a period during which many different styles have proliferated, from super-real painting to minimalist sculpture, including video, photography that rivals painting in its scale and ambition.

Prior to that, in the 60s, there were really just three main movements considered to be of significance: minimalism, pop art and color field painting. And in the '50s, according to the art historians, the only important movement was abstract expressionism.

So, where art splinters into a lot of different directions without one predominating over all others, is usually what's thought of as post-modernism... I think psychedelic experience makes you think that there are multiple realities, that there isn't just this one normal real world to which we're supposed to conform, but that the reality changes depending on the state of consciousness that we're in when we're experiencing it. So, any different kind of art kind of posits a different reality.

CNN: What excites you about modern art right now?

Johnson: I think the artist who's probably getting the most buzz right now is a young artist named Ryan Trecartin, who is a video artist who has a show at P.S. 1 in New York, a big show of his videos, which I mention in the book...

And I think he fits into the paradigm I'm describing about consciousness and multiple realities and the existential flux that psychedelics suggest. I don't know that he would describe his work as psychedelic, it's not a term that has a lot of respect in art criticism these days. I almost wish there was another term for what I'm talking about.

CNN: How has the term acquired a negative connotation?

Johnson: I remember when I first started working on the book I ran into an art historian at an opening a few years ago and I said, "I'm starting to write a book on the influence of psychedelics on art."

And he kind of smirked and said, "Well, psychedelic art is good if you're on psychedelics."

I think the common thought was that there is or has been this genre of the psychedelic poster or fantasy, the kinds of things that put psychedelic culture in this kind of niche that didn't have any kind of highbrow cachet.

So it has a stigma that people are not eager to embrace or associate themselves with. Also, these drugs are all illegal -- especially in the '60s and '70s, they were highly illegal ...

There's been kind of a resurgence. This whole psychedelic thing is still part of our culture. It's not over. There are people who are doing research into different psychedelics for their possible medicinal benefits.

I was just reading ... that the New York Public Library paid $900,000 for Timothy Leary's papers, which is a great trove of information for all the famous people who were corresponding with him and talking about psychedelics. So, it's a very rich history and it's not over.



Original Page: http://www.cnn.com/2011/LIVING/07/15/ken.johnson.psychedelic.art/index.html

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