I am sitting here enjoying the new speakers Santa brought me. I am listening to my old band, Skyscraper. And that brings me to thoughts of this upcoming year. For it is this year when Skyscraper will celebrate our fortieth anniversary.
Yes, it was forty years ago today, that we taught this band to play. And since any statute of limitations has long run out, I'll tell the story of how we formed this band.
I began playing and writing music with Jeff in 1972. So by 75, we had a wealth of original songs we'd written, some good and some otherwise. But we decided we'd gone as far as we could as a duo, and now needed a band. So in springtime of 1975 we set out to find one.
We'd just arrived back to Springfield, Missouri from the Phoenix area of Arizona. And Jeff lucked into finding a vacant house that was being purchased by the college, and the owner allowed us to live there while it was in escrow. And that was a very good thing, as we had very little if any money.
So it was that I talked to an old friend, who'd been playing around the area for a few years. I'd first met Steve around summer of 72. He had just arrived back to town from a little place called Vietnam. Now Steve is a trip. He comes from one of the most musical families I've ever encountered. He had a brother with a very nice voice who went on to play with a very successful local band. And a whole slew of sisters with angel voices. Some of my best memories are of playing Beatles tunes with Steve's brother and sisteres. So luckily, Steve wasn't playing with anyone at the time, so we had our lead guitarist.
And another friend, who became our band manager, knew a drummer from Memphis, Tennessee named Dan. Danny was very talented, playing harmonica, drums and adding harmony vocals. And so the great jam session was organized. I celebrated by purchasing four hits of mescaline, and on the day of the jam, we took them.
We played for fourteen hours. My fingers were bleeding. All our fingers were bleeding, but no one cared. This felt so good, and so right. Was it the drug talking, well it turns out it wasn't.
After recovering, a few days later, we realized we had three hours of original material. And it was pretty tight already. Apparently, the drug hadn't harmed our musical skills. So Injun John began to book us in clubs. And he organized a recording session. Those songs can be found at my soundcloud page listed by my bio. We cut several songs in one day, which in those days wasn't all that rare. They aren't polished, as they were only meant for demo purposes. But they aren't all that bad either.
So we did the recording, and very soon found ourselves as opening act for The Nitty Gritty Dirt Band. This was my dream come true. I'd listened to their Uncle Charlie album since it was released in 1970, and knew it forwards and back. So we were playing an open air venue, and spent the largest part of the day there. You may not realize that playing a concert is a long workday for a band. There are sound checks, then more sound checks. So you put your instrument in your hand in the morning, and don't remove it until late that night. But that being said, it is not really like working.
I spent a good amount of the afternoon jamming with the Dirt Band. I had asked Jimmy Ibbotson to write down the lyrics for Diggy Liggy Lo, which I could never really get from the record. He did, and naturally we played the song. Jimmie Faddon joined in on harmonica. And around the side of this old farm truck came John McEuen picking his banjo. And I got to play lead singer for the band. It was so easy, because I already knew all their songs.
But it was much more than a wonderful time. It was a justification, much like graduating from college. Playing with that band, and in front of all those thousands of people, qualified all those years of practice and work I'd done. And it let me know that you could achieve a dream.
Now, I'd been playing in public for nearly ten years by then, though I was only 22. And an audience was certainly nothing new to me. But this one was special and I'll never forget that crowd. Though it wasn't really the crowd, nor amazingly enough my favorite band. It was justification, pure and simple. I had spent my life, short though it was at that point, wondering what it would be like to play for thousands. Well, I found out. And there is nothing else like that feeling, when the waves of applause come back at you from those faceless bodies out there. You can see the first few rows of folks, but after that the lighting prevents seeing features. But the noise travels very well, and it is awesome when directed your way. Overpowering is a good adjective here. Again, applause was nothing new either, but I'd never before experienced it with such force. When you are in the crowd, you hear it of course. But on the stage, it seems to funnel toward you. So why do the Stones continue to tour, well there's your answer. You simply never experience such a thing except in those circumstances, so you keep yourself there.
Well, things didn't work out for Skyscraper, as it is for almost all bands. It is a very rare thing to keep any band together for long. Jeff and I continued to use the name, but Steve and Danny were gone and not replaced, and we went back to playing as a duo. But since 1975, I never again questioned my own musical ability. I constantly tried to improve of course, but I had been rewarded, and now had the only degree in music I had ever sought.
And now I've held that degree for forty years. Wow, it is difficult to put that into perspective. That time has flown by. I know all old folks love to talk about how time goes so fast, but that is just because it is true.
Life is like a long playing vinyl record. When you begin with the first song, it takes the record a long time to make one revolution. But each succeeding song goes a bit faster and faster around the turntable, and when you reach the last few songs, it is spinning around that spindle like a top, faster always. So when you look backwards from the needle, it seems a long way. But when you look where you are going, it looks like a short journey indeed. So my songs are spinning pretty fast as my fingers slow down. But any time I wish, I can mentally set the needle back forty years, and feel young again. And I do. Peace in the coming year. rw
Tuesday, December 30, 2014
Saturday, December 27, 2014
When One Is Now Aged Enough To Enjoy The Holiday Season
It is interesting to look backward, now that I've reached the golden years. I remember so well, getting in considerable trouble for wanting to wear my hair like the Beatles. I couldn't fathom my parents reaction. And the nation got into quite an uproar. The older generation thinking they had failed as parents, and the younger generation vowing never to grow old. Never trust anyone over thirty!
I can draw several conclusions from the above paragraph, looking through the lens of hindsight. For instance, when you consider the uproar created by the Beatles between two generations, perhaps we might have foreseen the much more considerable angst to come in the later half of the decade. Just the fact of the way the Beatles looked, was enough to drive a large wedge between parent and child. And since the early band was mostly covering hits my parents danced to as little as a few years previous to the Beatles, it certainly wasn't about the music. And if just the matter of the length of one's hair created a chasm between generations, we didn't have a prayer to relate just a couple of years after the Beatles arrived in the U.S.
And perhaps we should have tried harder to talk to each other, but the state of our society was turning downhill in 1964. The big escalation in Vietnam was right around the corner. Perhaps we felt it and just didn't recognize it for what it was. Though I was still adolescent, I remember feeling like this was the most important issue ever. Now, putting that in a bit of perspective, we had just endured the Cuban Missile Crisis, and the assassination of JFK. But the length of our hair probably provided a release of this pent up angst. Our parents saw their world failing. We had nearly loosed the nukes, and then they killed the president that led us through that crisis. It didn't make any sense at all.
But the length of one's hair, seemed a safe wedge issue. So perhaps we all leaped at it. It was much easier to deal with the angst of a superficial issue, than to face the real issues of the day. No, we left that for about two years later. So I suppose in one way, we cooperated with our parents, as we were all disillusioned and in denial.
Then a couple of decades ago, when I was in my forties, I found myself gazing with disgust at kids with safety pins in their cheeks and chains hanging from their eyebrow to their lip. Weird stuff. But I said very little. I think I learned from the experience of the sixties, that youth must express themselves, and there is a lot of pressure on them to be different from the previous generation. I did it, so why shouldn't they? However, I will confess to some hypocrisy here, as my son never tried to pierce anything but his ears, and I found that acceptable, though weird. I suppose we can call that progress of a sort.
I did make a joke that was pretty funny, though. I put in a suggestion box an idea to increase workplace safety. We had a kid working there, who had piercings all over his face. So I simply said they should keep him away from the staplers.
I suppose the point here is that no matter how rational we try to be with either our younger or older generation, we will never find total agreement, but can only hope to practice tolerance.
But it is interesting to find myself feeling much like I assume my own parents felt regarding my generation. I fail to understand much of what they care about and what they do, such as putting a spike through your eyebrow. I just don't see the point. But now, at this advanced age, I realize I am not supposed to get it. It is the fact that if I were to understand and totally relate to my son's generation, they would rebel. Even if I gave in one hundred percent, they would rebel. And they should, because that is human nature. But I certainly didn't understand that when arguing to grow my hair those many years ago, and neither did my parents. But we did understand once we reached our sixties.
I guess I'm reflecting on the holiday season. Now, it is a true pleasure to chat with my mother, who is now eighty three years young. We actually see things from much the same paradigm now. I think this comes mostly from realization of one's own mortality. When the body begins to break down, and you feel the wear and tear of the years, you also realize that much of what you once thought so important, wasn't. And some of what you overlooked or just ignored, was very important. I think it is human nature to always be conflicted. And I suppose that is good, or it might get really boring.
But that tends to make us progress in fits and starts, rather than in a nice linear manner. Years of ignorance, followed by a sudden burst of wisdom. And then when you are feeling smug, it happens all over again, and again. But the bliss comes from both you and your mom knowing that little pearl of wisdom, that allows you both to see the silliness in which we indulge, seemingly involuntarily.
And somehow, the gulf between us disappears, and the conflicts just fall by the way and are unimportant. What is important is thanking your lucky stars, that you have lived a long and mostly good life, and you are both still here to talk about that fact. In fact, it is so satisfying, it makes the previous conflicts all seem much less significant. Time really is the great healer.
I can draw several conclusions from the above paragraph, looking through the lens of hindsight. For instance, when you consider the uproar created by the Beatles between two generations, perhaps we might have foreseen the much more considerable angst to come in the later half of the decade. Just the fact of the way the Beatles looked, was enough to drive a large wedge between parent and child. And since the early band was mostly covering hits my parents danced to as little as a few years previous to the Beatles, it certainly wasn't about the music. And if just the matter of the length of one's hair created a chasm between generations, we didn't have a prayer to relate just a couple of years after the Beatles arrived in the U.S.
And perhaps we should have tried harder to talk to each other, but the state of our society was turning downhill in 1964. The big escalation in Vietnam was right around the corner. Perhaps we felt it and just didn't recognize it for what it was. Though I was still adolescent, I remember feeling like this was the most important issue ever. Now, putting that in a bit of perspective, we had just endured the Cuban Missile Crisis, and the assassination of JFK. But the length of our hair probably provided a release of this pent up angst. Our parents saw their world failing. We had nearly loosed the nukes, and then they killed the president that led us through that crisis. It didn't make any sense at all.
But the length of one's hair, seemed a safe wedge issue. So perhaps we all leaped at it. It was much easier to deal with the angst of a superficial issue, than to face the real issues of the day. No, we left that for about two years later. So I suppose in one way, we cooperated with our parents, as we were all disillusioned and in denial.
Then a couple of decades ago, when I was in my forties, I found myself gazing with disgust at kids with safety pins in their cheeks and chains hanging from their eyebrow to their lip. Weird stuff. But I said very little. I think I learned from the experience of the sixties, that youth must express themselves, and there is a lot of pressure on them to be different from the previous generation. I did it, so why shouldn't they? However, I will confess to some hypocrisy here, as my son never tried to pierce anything but his ears, and I found that acceptable, though weird. I suppose we can call that progress of a sort.
I did make a joke that was pretty funny, though. I put in a suggestion box an idea to increase workplace safety. We had a kid working there, who had piercings all over his face. So I simply said they should keep him away from the staplers.
I suppose the point here is that no matter how rational we try to be with either our younger or older generation, we will never find total agreement, but can only hope to practice tolerance.
But it is interesting to find myself feeling much like I assume my own parents felt regarding my generation. I fail to understand much of what they care about and what they do, such as putting a spike through your eyebrow. I just don't see the point. But now, at this advanced age, I realize I am not supposed to get it. It is the fact that if I were to understand and totally relate to my son's generation, they would rebel. Even if I gave in one hundred percent, they would rebel. And they should, because that is human nature. But I certainly didn't understand that when arguing to grow my hair those many years ago, and neither did my parents. But we did understand once we reached our sixties.
I guess I'm reflecting on the holiday season. Now, it is a true pleasure to chat with my mother, who is now eighty three years young. We actually see things from much the same paradigm now. I think this comes mostly from realization of one's own mortality. When the body begins to break down, and you feel the wear and tear of the years, you also realize that much of what you once thought so important, wasn't. And some of what you overlooked or just ignored, was very important. I think it is human nature to always be conflicted. And I suppose that is good, or it might get really boring.
But that tends to make us progress in fits and starts, rather than in a nice linear manner. Years of ignorance, followed by a sudden burst of wisdom. And then when you are feeling smug, it happens all over again, and again. But the bliss comes from both you and your mom knowing that little pearl of wisdom, that allows you both to see the silliness in which we indulge, seemingly involuntarily.
And somehow, the gulf between us disappears, and the conflicts just fall by the way and are unimportant. What is important is thanking your lucky stars, that you have lived a long and mostly good life, and you are both still here to talk about that fact. In fact, it is so satisfying, it makes the previous conflicts all seem much less significant. Time really is the great healer.
Sunday, December 21, 2014
One More Hippie Post
Well, I just hate it when history gets perverted, but it seems it always does. For instance, these new researchers seem to think they know more about something they didn't live through, than those who did. It is the arrogance and stupidity of thinking books tell the truth. Books tell someones truth, but it isn't universal truth. It is usually one man's opinion who happened to write a book.
Unfortunately this is the problem with research drawn strictly from books, and not testimony of those who lived that history. If you have ever played the game of telephone, where one person passes a message to his neighbor, and after ten neighbors the message is very different from the original, then you understand how one book leads to another and the same effect happens.
I have drawn conclusions from being there. These folks seem to think they are talking and writing about hippies, but they aren't, They just don't know enough about their subject matter to understand. When you talk to one thousand who classify themselves as hippies, you are likely to get a thousand different definitions.
They have fallen for the story advanced by the straight people, who themselves had no comprehension of hippies. That is like reading Tom Brokaw's book about 1968, and thinking that now you know all about the sixties. No one was straighter than Tom Brokaw. He stood outside and looked at the animals in the zoo, and thought he understood them. But researchers will gladly take his words as gospel, because they are written in a book.
They seem to think someone came around and said, "let there be hippies." Big brother decided to create hippies. Well, big brother just isn't all that good at creating social movement, If government and psychologists can control society so well, why are they still working so hard to maintain control. Why do they feel the need to create the incredible spying facility in Utah, so they can monitor all our communication? Shouldn't they just be able to practice mind control, and not have to go to the trouble and huge expense of creating super computers big enough to hold all our data?
And they assume that hippies put a bad face on the peace movement, and all the civil rights issues with which they became involved. Say what?
THERE IS NO DRAFT, AND MOST OF THESE RESEARCHERS NEVER HAD A DRAFT NUMBER.
No one can understand the terror of the sixties unless they felt the pressure of not owning their own life. You were fine until the day you turned eighteen, then your ass belonged to Uncle Sam. If they called your number, and they called nearly half of the men born in 1953, you had three choices. Go into the military and probably to Vietnam, don't go to the military and go to prison for five years, or go away.
If you went away and left the U.S., you were probably giving up everything and everyone you had known. You would never be able to come back home, because you were a criminal and wanted by the police. There was another way, if you were willing, to try to evade service. You could claim to be homosexual. Sometimes, particularly in the first few years of the war, that worked. But they got wise to the ploy eventually. And if one claimed to be a homosexual in those days, you could forget ever succeeding in society, as you were marked. And in those times, homosexuals were certainly not accepted like today, in fact quite the opposite.
We weren't ready to accept the world we came of age inhabiting. And we tried mightily to change it. And that was the essence of being a hippie. It had nothing to do with the length of your hair, or the music you listened to, or the drugs you took or did not take. It was an attitude you wore, and people of all shapes and sizes became hippies in the sixties. The same sort of folks who in the previous generation became beatniks for the same reasons. And later, punks became punks for much the same reasons. All of those groups were rebelling against a society they didn't appreciate.
So did the government create punks? Beatniks? I would say that the spirit that drove the pilgrims to America, is very similar to that of the hippies. They didn't want to live by the morals and ethics of England, so they rebelled. Those guys were hippies.
As a rule, hippies didn't go around wearing furs, driving sports cars or choppers. No, they usually couldn't afford to own transportation fancier than a bicycle. Because one of the main culprits and purveyors of evil according to hippies, was money and what it represented.
Well, most they have sighted as hippies, aren't. The rock stars in Laurel canyon won't claim to have been hippies, at least not honestly. They lived in very nice houses, with lots of money at their disposal, and always had nice guitars and places to play them. We didn't. And much of these new author's own research argues against their very contention that these musicians were hippies. I think one may have been hard pressed to find a hippie in Laurel canyon.
You see, these new young authors, who are trying to historically analyze the hippies, have missed the boat. They are analyzing the young people, and the music scene very well. But they don't understand the definition of hippie. They are falling for a wolf in sheep's clothing. You see, one could dress like a hippie, act like a hippie, but not be a hippie.
So I am tired of arguing this point. And I will close by stating that you should read David McGowan's book. It is packed full of excellent research. But realize that his conclusions are flawed. He has purchased the company line about hippies, so perhaps he is mind controlled, eh?
No, David isn't mind controlled, he is simply mistaken. I look forward to the day that someone will accurately define a hippie. I certainly haven't and cannot. I can feel what a hippie was, but can't describe it. Again, it is so difficult and perhaps impossible to describe something so ethereal. We had no uniforms, we had no tests to pass or qualifications to earn, and we didn't get a badge. But we knew if we were hippies or not. At least, we were happy to be called a hippie. Why? Because it pissed off our parents, and made a statement that we weren't willing to settle for the crazy world of the sixties.
I didn't appreciate having a "white's only" drinking fountain. I looked into the eyes of a black person, and saw no difference that looking at anyone else. Yet, my neighbors did. I thought nuclear weapons were crazy, and still do. I thought that there was no threat from the Vietnamese half a world away, and pulling each other around in rickshaws. And I didn't like seeing my friends coming home maimed, or just not coming home for reasons none of us could understand. And every night on television, we'd watch battle footage from the war, and those guys my age saw their future.
So I felt like a "hippie" I suppose. But so did some folks old enough to be my parents. Not many, but some. You see, being a hippie wasn't something you did, but something you felt. Anyone who wasn't subject to the draft will probably not understand. The rise of the hippies pretty well coincided with the escalation of the war in Vietnam. It also coincided with the rash of assassinations we endured of our leaders who dared to speak out against the system. We tried very hard to work within the system, but every time we thought we might succeed, someone shot a Kennedy or a Martin Luther King in the head. And in 1968, over 126 American cities burned with race riots. And that is also when "hippies" came into prominence, and those riots and the Vietnam war had nothing to do with the musicians in Laurel canyon.
David McGowan says that feminism, environmental issues, drugs, rock n roll, and weird hair and clothing was pushed on us by the powers that be, in order to confuse us and make us ineffective. Well, if so, they failed. The fact is that those social movements arose from those who were dissatisfied with the establishment. And guess what? There is no draft, and the military is the greatest proponent of a volunteer force. Women are working and running companies, which just didn't happen in the sixties. Gay folks can live among us without too much fear, as compared to back then. You can vote at age eighteen, not twenty one. Imagine having to go die for a country that wouldn't let you vote on your own future. In fact, the world is nothing like the sixties now, and those folks fought for much of the freedoms younger people enjoy today. And the government wasn't very happy about any of it, as they had a much easier time of it before then. So if they foisted these horrible hippies on society in hopes of maintaining their paradigm, they failed miserably.
But history is written by the victors. And we didn't win the war, just a few battles. So Tom Brokaw writes the history, and we fade into oblivion without anyone having successfully defined our generation. I suspect we are not the only generation to feel that way. Someday the younger generation will resent the history being written about them, because it will also be incorrect. Such is life.
Unfortunately this is the problem with research drawn strictly from books, and not testimony of those who lived that history. If you have ever played the game of telephone, where one person passes a message to his neighbor, and after ten neighbors the message is very different from the original, then you understand how one book leads to another and the same effect happens.
I have drawn conclusions from being there. These folks seem to think they are talking and writing about hippies, but they aren't, They just don't know enough about their subject matter to understand. When you talk to one thousand who classify themselves as hippies, you are likely to get a thousand different definitions.
They have fallen for the story advanced by the straight people, who themselves had no comprehension of hippies. That is like reading Tom Brokaw's book about 1968, and thinking that now you know all about the sixties. No one was straighter than Tom Brokaw. He stood outside and looked at the animals in the zoo, and thought he understood them. But researchers will gladly take his words as gospel, because they are written in a book.
They seem to think someone came around and said, "let there be hippies." Big brother decided to create hippies. Well, big brother just isn't all that good at creating social movement, If government and psychologists can control society so well, why are they still working so hard to maintain control. Why do they feel the need to create the incredible spying facility in Utah, so they can monitor all our communication? Shouldn't they just be able to practice mind control, and not have to go to the trouble and huge expense of creating super computers big enough to hold all our data?
And they assume that hippies put a bad face on the peace movement, and all the civil rights issues with which they became involved. Say what?
THERE IS NO DRAFT, AND MOST OF THESE RESEARCHERS NEVER HAD A DRAFT NUMBER.
No one can understand the terror of the sixties unless they felt the pressure of not owning their own life. You were fine until the day you turned eighteen, then your ass belonged to Uncle Sam. If they called your number, and they called nearly half of the men born in 1953, you had three choices. Go into the military and probably to Vietnam, don't go to the military and go to prison for five years, or go away.
If you went away and left the U.S., you were probably giving up everything and everyone you had known. You would never be able to come back home, because you were a criminal and wanted by the police. There was another way, if you were willing, to try to evade service. You could claim to be homosexual. Sometimes, particularly in the first few years of the war, that worked. But they got wise to the ploy eventually. And if one claimed to be a homosexual in those days, you could forget ever succeeding in society, as you were marked. And in those times, homosexuals were certainly not accepted like today, in fact quite the opposite.
We weren't ready to accept the world we came of age inhabiting. And we tried mightily to change it. And that was the essence of being a hippie. It had nothing to do with the length of your hair, or the music you listened to, or the drugs you took or did not take. It was an attitude you wore, and people of all shapes and sizes became hippies in the sixties. The same sort of folks who in the previous generation became beatniks for the same reasons. And later, punks became punks for much the same reasons. All of those groups were rebelling against a society they didn't appreciate.
So did the government create punks? Beatniks? I would say that the spirit that drove the pilgrims to America, is very similar to that of the hippies. They didn't want to live by the morals and ethics of England, so they rebelled. Those guys were hippies.
As a rule, hippies didn't go around wearing furs, driving sports cars or choppers. No, they usually couldn't afford to own transportation fancier than a bicycle. Because one of the main culprits and purveyors of evil according to hippies, was money and what it represented.
Well, most they have sighted as hippies, aren't. The rock stars in Laurel canyon won't claim to have been hippies, at least not honestly. They lived in very nice houses, with lots of money at their disposal, and always had nice guitars and places to play them. We didn't. And much of these new author's own research argues against their very contention that these musicians were hippies. I think one may have been hard pressed to find a hippie in Laurel canyon.
You see, these new young authors, who are trying to historically analyze the hippies, have missed the boat. They are analyzing the young people, and the music scene very well. But they don't understand the definition of hippie. They are falling for a wolf in sheep's clothing. You see, one could dress like a hippie, act like a hippie, but not be a hippie.
So I am tired of arguing this point. And I will close by stating that you should read David McGowan's book. It is packed full of excellent research. But realize that his conclusions are flawed. He has purchased the company line about hippies, so perhaps he is mind controlled, eh?
No, David isn't mind controlled, he is simply mistaken. I look forward to the day that someone will accurately define a hippie. I certainly haven't and cannot. I can feel what a hippie was, but can't describe it. Again, it is so difficult and perhaps impossible to describe something so ethereal. We had no uniforms, we had no tests to pass or qualifications to earn, and we didn't get a badge. But we knew if we were hippies or not. At least, we were happy to be called a hippie. Why? Because it pissed off our parents, and made a statement that we weren't willing to settle for the crazy world of the sixties.
I didn't appreciate having a "white's only" drinking fountain. I looked into the eyes of a black person, and saw no difference that looking at anyone else. Yet, my neighbors did. I thought nuclear weapons were crazy, and still do. I thought that there was no threat from the Vietnamese half a world away, and pulling each other around in rickshaws. And I didn't like seeing my friends coming home maimed, or just not coming home for reasons none of us could understand. And every night on television, we'd watch battle footage from the war, and those guys my age saw their future.
So I felt like a "hippie" I suppose. But so did some folks old enough to be my parents. Not many, but some. You see, being a hippie wasn't something you did, but something you felt. Anyone who wasn't subject to the draft will probably not understand. The rise of the hippies pretty well coincided with the escalation of the war in Vietnam. It also coincided with the rash of assassinations we endured of our leaders who dared to speak out against the system. We tried very hard to work within the system, but every time we thought we might succeed, someone shot a Kennedy or a Martin Luther King in the head. And in 1968, over 126 American cities burned with race riots. And that is also when "hippies" came into prominence, and those riots and the Vietnam war had nothing to do with the musicians in Laurel canyon.
David McGowan says that feminism, environmental issues, drugs, rock n roll, and weird hair and clothing was pushed on us by the powers that be, in order to confuse us and make us ineffective. Well, if so, they failed. The fact is that those social movements arose from those who were dissatisfied with the establishment. And guess what? There is no draft, and the military is the greatest proponent of a volunteer force. Women are working and running companies, which just didn't happen in the sixties. Gay folks can live among us without too much fear, as compared to back then. You can vote at age eighteen, not twenty one. Imagine having to go die for a country that wouldn't let you vote on your own future. In fact, the world is nothing like the sixties now, and those folks fought for much of the freedoms younger people enjoy today. And the government wasn't very happy about any of it, as they had a much easier time of it before then. So if they foisted these horrible hippies on society in hopes of maintaining their paradigm, they failed miserably.
But history is written by the victors. And we didn't win the war, just a few battles. So Tom Brokaw writes the history, and we fade into oblivion without anyone having successfully defined our generation. I suspect we are not the only generation to feel that way. Someday the younger generation will resent the history being written about them, because it will also be incorrect. Such is life.
Monday, December 15, 2014
The Origin Of Hippies
I previously mentioned the work of Mark Devlin, Neil Sanders and Dave McGowan and how they've addressed the origin of hippies. Well, while their research into the biographies of many of our rock stars from the 1960s is very valid, they have unfortunately drawn the wrong conclusions.
I think, amazingly enough, they have rejected the public face of rock in that day, but bought into the main stream narrative regarding hippies. A very ironic point of view. Dave always says the hippie movement and folk rock music began in Laurel Canyon in Los Angeles. I believe he's probably wrong on the first assumption, and definitely wrong on the second.
He just ignores John Sebastian and the Lovin Spoonful. He ignores the fact that John Phillips, Cass Elliot, Michelle and folks like Bob Dylan, were already established in their musical style, and that took place in New York City long before they moved to California.
Now we come to my favorite group of actual Southern California dudes, The Nitty Gritty Dirt Band. Long Beach spawned this group, around 1965. So that is very contemporaneous and perhaps preceding the Byrds. The band began with Jeff Hanna and Jimmie Faddon. I have had the privilege of playing music with both these guys, along with John McEuen and a really great dude, Jimmy Ibbotson. This was in 1975.
I fondly remember sitting atop a hood of an old farm truck, along with Ibbotson and Faddon, while they taught me to play and sing Diggy Liggy Lo. We played Bojangles, Jamaica, Rave On, and many of their hits, but I got to play lead singer. That night my little band, Skyscraper, was the opening act. I still have the lyrics to Diggy Liggy Lo that Jimmy Ibbotson wrote by hand atop that old truck.
And when jamming, and I had gotten the hang of the material, around the corner of that truck came John McEuen, picking the banjo and grinning like a kid at Christmas. I just love that guy. I ran into him a decade later at Harrah's Lake Tahoe, after he'd just left the Dirt Band and was doing a solo gig. Hung around the bar a bit together, and I was on a huge ego trip as he'd recognized me.
Sorry, had to brag a bit there. My point here, is that there were many "hippies" who were already frequenting the coffee houses of New York City in the 1950s. I don't think anyone better represented a hippie than Bob Dylan, and he wasn't in Laurel Canyon, boys. At least not in the very early sixties when he was playing along side John Phillips, and many others in the coffee house scene in NYC.
And LSD was discovered in many decades before 1966. As were many illegal drugs. And yes, those drugs were prominent at those same NYC locations, and long before Dylan. So, I will concede that psychedelic drugs became much more prominent in the 60s, but I absolutely do not concede that folk rock music developed in Los Angeles, nor most probably San Francisco. And those groups referenced by Dave and Mark, simply popularized the culture that already existed. So strike two, boys.
Now, the peace movement wasn't invented by hippies. Sorry to burst this bubble. The peace movement was begun by very straight laced college students, who rebelled against their parents paradigm of blind unquestioning loyalty to government, bred by their youth during World War Two, and understandably so.
Did the hippies participate in the peace movement and the civil rights movement? Of course. It was right down our alley. But we cannot claim to have begun any of that.
Perhaps we should go back to square one, and define the term "hippie." I am not sure I can do that, nor can anyone else. It is like saying, "define the color blue." It isn't a philosophy, but more a state of being. I think there have been "hippies" down through the ages. It is very possible Jesus Christ was a hippie. So, I don't buy that hippies were "invented" by the CIA, and placed in Laurel Canyon. Sorry.
And some of the folks who I would define as hippies, never touched an illegal drug, nor were they inclined to "get high" even with liquor. So the drugs are pretty much irrelevant. However, there was a difference made by the psychedelic drugs. There was a level of understanding I could not reach with these "straight hippies." But in many ways it was not that significant. Perhaps those folks had an inherent ability to see into the realms that others of us needed a drug to find.
But most will tell you a person is quite different after taking a trip. Here is also another place where Dave and Mark go wrong. I think most would testify that acid made you more focused. That is diametrically opposed to their assumption that the CIA placed acid in the community to distract the protesters. They think it made us all run to the country to contemplate our navels.
I argue that it made our protesting more dedicated and intense. They get stuck on the main stream story of the hippies. Turn on, Tune in, and Drop out is their mantra. Strangely, it really was never ours. I knew no one who said that. I am aware that Timothy Leary really liked that phrase, but I am unsure any hippies actually thought it to be that creative. And herein lies the deceptive aspect of history. You can't get good history from a book. You might get good history from a compilation of many books. But any book is usually one man's story of history, or his own compilation of other individual's comprehension of what they have read. It is just so much easier to write off oral history as so much mumbo jumbo by indigenous people, or those less evolved than the book readers. Pretty egocentric, I think.
Don't get me wrong, I feel I've read a million books. But it is pretty easy to find inconsistencies in our recorded history. Now, why do you suppose that is? It is due to the fact that no history is accurate. Many seem to be close, but there are those pesky inconsistencies that always crop up, where that highly accurate historian deviates from the majority of other historians. I believe this is how they get to feel they've made an individual contribution to our history, and thereby validating their work. And there are a whole big bunch of history majors running around out there.
Now, if one wants to do the very hard work, and read all the history they can, and collect all the oral history they are able, then conclusions can be drawn. But none are worthwhile unless collaborated by disparate societies, and even civilizations. For instance, tribes and texts throughout the world, speak of a great cataclysmic flood long ago in the past. It is reasonable to assume that societies who had no contact, would develop vastly different stories, but this one pervades nearly all. So it is reasonable to assume there was a flood, and many people died, and things changed on the face of the earth.
But, Mark, Dave and to a much lesser degree, Neil Sanders, still need to do lots of research before being able to make an authoritative speculation on the implications from their own research. They still have lots of homework to do, before making the declarations that they do make. Sorry boys, but I cannot accept those speculations as relevant until they are backed up with much more research than you have shown.
That all having been said, I really like these three individuals I've flamed. I think they are all worthwhile, and that the biographical research they've done is outstanding. I can find no fault there. It is only in their speculative results where I find fault.
Now, I am not an authority. So my condemnation of their theories is also irrelevant. But having come of age in the early seventies, and been a widely experienced teenager in the sixties, their theories and time lines just don't match up with what I remember, and the memories of several friends with whom I've compared notes. And I hate to use this reasoning, but it is undeniable, that nothing gives you perspective like being there, and they are far too young to have participated in that era. They have no idea what if felt like to watch the Cuban Missile Crisis on television. Their presidents never warned them their world may end in fifteen or twenty minutes when the Russian missiles arrive. And they NEVER POSSESSED A DRAFT CARD!
It was a different world in the late sixties, and one cannot apply modern thinking to that time period, without doing lots and lots of research. In this case, I don't feel the proper research has been done to support their findings. But I am anxiously awaiting their further work, as they all three are very bright, and diligent. I just think they still have a ways to go.
Much in the same way that I don't comprehend my parent's generational thinking, I don't think younger people can truly understand the sixties. And whatever you do, don't read Boom by Tom Brokaw. Talk about a blind man trying to describe an elephant, Tom had no clue in the sixties. Sorry Tom, but you were so straight then, we could have used you for a yard stick.
In fact, perhaps this is the way to end this piece. You can go to the zoo everyday, and spend all day just looking at bears. But you won't have a clue what it feels like to be a bear. Spend your whole life in pursuit of history you didn't experience, and at best it is educated guesswork. I don't know what it feels like to be a bear, but I do know what it feels like to be a hippie.
I think, amazingly enough, they have rejected the public face of rock in that day, but bought into the main stream narrative regarding hippies. A very ironic point of view. Dave always says the hippie movement and folk rock music began in Laurel Canyon in Los Angeles. I believe he's probably wrong on the first assumption, and definitely wrong on the second.
He just ignores John Sebastian and the Lovin Spoonful. He ignores the fact that John Phillips, Cass Elliot, Michelle and folks like Bob Dylan, were already established in their musical style, and that took place in New York City long before they moved to California.
Now we come to my favorite group of actual Southern California dudes, The Nitty Gritty Dirt Band. Long Beach spawned this group, around 1965. So that is very contemporaneous and perhaps preceding the Byrds. The band began with Jeff Hanna and Jimmie Faddon. I have had the privilege of playing music with both these guys, along with John McEuen and a really great dude, Jimmy Ibbotson. This was in 1975.
I fondly remember sitting atop a hood of an old farm truck, along with Ibbotson and Faddon, while they taught me to play and sing Diggy Liggy Lo. We played Bojangles, Jamaica, Rave On, and many of their hits, but I got to play lead singer. That night my little band, Skyscraper, was the opening act. I still have the lyrics to Diggy Liggy Lo that Jimmy Ibbotson wrote by hand atop that old truck.
And when jamming, and I had gotten the hang of the material, around the corner of that truck came John McEuen, picking the banjo and grinning like a kid at Christmas. I just love that guy. I ran into him a decade later at Harrah's Lake Tahoe, after he'd just left the Dirt Band and was doing a solo gig. Hung around the bar a bit together, and I was on a huge ego trip as he'd recognized me.
Sorry, had to brag a bit there. My point here, is that there were many "hippies" who were already frequenting the coffee houses of New York City in the 1950s. I don't think anyone better represented a hippie than Bob Dylan, and he wasn't in Laurel Canyon, boys. At least not in the very early sixties when he was playing along side John Phillips, and many others in the coffee house scene in NYC.
And LSD was discovered in many decades before 1966. As were many illegal drugs. And yes, those drugs were prominent at those same NYC locations, and long before Dylan. So, I will concede that psychedelic drugs became much more prominent in the 60s, but I absolutely do not concede that folk rock music developed in Los Angeles, nor most probably San Francisco. And those groups referenced by Dave and Mark, simply popularized the culture that already existed. So strike two, boys.
Now, the peace movement wasn't invented by hippies. Sorry to burst this bubble. The peace movement was begun by very straight laced college students, who rebelled against their parents paradigm of blind unquestioning loyalty to government, bred by their youth during World War Two, and understandably so.
Did the hippies participate in the peace movement and the civil rights movement? Of course. It was right down our alley. But we cannot claim to have begun any of that.
Perhaps we should go back to square one, and define the term "hippie." I am not sure I can do that, nor can anyone else. It is like saying, "define the color blue." It isn't a philosophy, but more a state of being. I think there have been "hippies" down through the ages. It is very possible Jesus Christ was a hippie. So, I don't buy that hippies were "invented" by the CIA, and placed in Laurel Canyon. Sorry.
And some of the folks who I would define as hippies, never touched an illegal drug, nor were they inclined to "get high" even with liquor. So the drugs are pretty much irrelevant. However, there was a difference made by the psychedelic drugs. There was a level of understanding I could not reach with these "straight hippies." But in many ways it was not that significant. Perhaps those folks had an inherent ability to see into the realms that others of us needed a drug to find.
But most will tell you a person is quite different after taking a trip. Here is also another place where Dave and Mark go wrong. I think most would testify that acid made you more focused. That is diametrically opposed to their assumption that the CIA placed acid in the community to distract the protesters. They think it made us all run to the country to contemplate our navels.
I argue that it made our protesting more dedicated and intense. They get stuck on the main stream story of the hippies. Turn on, Tune in, and Drop out is their mantra. Strangely, it really was never ours. I knew no one who said that. I am aware that Timothy Leary really liked that phrase, but I am unsure any hippies actually thought it to be that creative. And herein lies the deceptive aspect of history. You can't get good history from a book. You might get good history from a compilation of many books. But any book is usually one man's story of history, or his own compilation of other individual's comprehension of what they have read. It is just so much easier to write off oral history as so much mumbo jumbo by indigenous people, or those less evolved than the book readers. Pretty egocentric, I think.
Don't get me wrong, I feel I've read a million books. But it is pretty easy to find inconsistencies in our recorded history. Now, why do you suppose that is? It is due to the fact that no history is accurate. Many seem to be close, but there are those pesky inconsistencies that always crop up, where that highly accurate historian deviates from the majority of other historians. I believe this is how they get to feel they've made an individual contribution to our history, and thereby validating their work. And there are a whole big bunch of history majors running around out there.
Now, if one wants to do the very hard work, and read all the history they can, and collect all the oral history they are able, then conclusions can be drawn. But none are worthwhile unless collaborated by disparate societies, and even civilizations. For instance, tribes and texts throughout the world, speak of a great cataclysmic flood long ago in the past. It is reasonable to assume that societies who had no contact, would develop vastly different stories, but this one pervades nearly all. So it is reasonable to assume there was a flood, and many people died, and things changed on the face of the earth.
But, Mark, Dave and to a much lesser degree, Neil Sanders, still need to do lots of research before being able to make an authoritative speculation on the implications from their own research. They still have lots of homework to do, before making the declarations that they do make. Sorry boys, but I cannot accept those speculations as relevant until they are backed up with much more research than you have shown.
That all having been said, I really like these three individuals I've flamed. I think they are all worthwhile, and that the biographical research they've done is outstanding. I can find no fault there. It is only in their speculative results where I find fault.
Now, I am not an authority. So my condemnation of their theories is also irrelevant. But having come of age in the early seventies, and been a widely experienced teenager in the sixties, their theories and time lines just don't match up with what I remember, and the memories of several friends with whom I've compared notes. And I hate to use this reasoning, but it is undeniable, that nothing gives you perspective like being there, and they are far too young to have participated in that era. They have no idea what if felt like to watch the Cuban Missile Crisis on television. Their presidents never warned them their world may end in fifteen or twenty minutes when the Russian missiles arrive. And they NEVER POSSESSED A DRAFT CARD!
It was a different world in the late sixties, and one cannot apply modern thinking to that time period, without doing lots and lots of research. In this case, I don't feel the proper research has been done to support their findings. But I am anxiously awaiting their further work, as they all three are very bright, and diligent. I just think they still have a ways to go.
Much in the same way that I don't comprehend my parent's generational thinking, I don't think younger people can truly understand the sixties. And whatever you do, don't read Boom by Tom Brokaw. Talk about a blind man trying to describe an elephant, Tom had no clue in the sixties. Sorry Tom, but you were so straight then, we could have used you for a yard stick.
In fact, perhaps this is the way to end this piece. You can go to the zoo everyday, and spend all day just looking at bears. But you won't have a clue what it feels like to be a bear. Spend your whole life in pursuit of history you didn't experience, and at best it is educated guesswork. I don't know what it feels like to be a bear, but I do know what it feels like to be a hippie.
Saturday, December 13, 2014
So, Is Paul McCartney Really Dead?
The year of 1968, when I was fifteen, was a very strange year, and a very difficult year in which to be a teenager. Not only were we doing our first drugs at that time, but the nation was doing some major freaking out also.
That year we lost all our heroes, and we learned that one only had a certain amount of free speech in the U.S.A. Raise too much hell, and the powers that be send you there. Ask RFK, MLK, and so many others that died in 68. Even a fifteen year old could see that they'd taken JFK and his brother the same way, shots to the head. I think we all got the message.
And over 126 American cities burned in riots that year, largely in response to the killing of Martin Luther King. By that time, I was perhaps too dejected to be violent. I was more inclined to sit in a corner and wonder where I was and what I was doing here. By age fifteen, it was a pertinent question for an American boy to ask. I was then three years from my probable future in the rice paddies of Vietnam.
And after that stunning democratic convention and it's riots in Chicago, we elected Nixon. Most of us decided our future was doomed with that event. Somehow we'd deluded ourselves through the sixties, into thinking we had power as citizens. We didn't have nearly as much as we assumed.
So 1969 rolled around, and that was also one turbulent year. We'd heard the horror of the TET offensive in Vietnam, with all its death and destruction. We'd seen some of our classmates come home in a box by then. The war was finally sinking into the social zeitgeist which up to that time, had still been absorbed in a patriotic fervor left over from World War Two. Our parents couldn't fathom the government doing anything untoward. We were supposed to live like Ozzie and Harriet.
69 featured the taking of People's Park in Berkeley, California. Only one innocent person was killed by the police in that skirmish. James Rector was just passing by when he found a bullet, and probably wasn't even involved in the protest. Just a student. He'd be joined by four more souls the next year after the national guard decided to kill four students at Kent State. Meanwhile, in my little town in Missouri, I was constantly getting kicked out of school simply for wearing a black arm band in protest of the Vietnam war. Apparently my other high crime was trying to grow my hair. But it kept touching my collar, which would also get you kicked out of school in those days.
But having said all this, it was the best of times and the worst of times, but it was an exhilarating time to grow up and turn sixteen. I encountered Owlsley's Berkeley Brown Dot Acid that year. And my world changed, right along with thousands of other kids.
But there was also Woodstock, which was our shining time. There was also the lively Paul is dead rumor, which helped to occupy our otherwise troubled minds.
A few students, and one in particular, were looking into this little known rumor that actually had begun quite awhile before 69. This student made a very timely phone call into a radio station in Detroit, Michigan. He asked the DJ to play Revolution #9 backwards. This was a very weird thing for a DJ to do, as it pretty well destroys a vinyl record. But he did, and he heard the words clearly, "turn me on, dead man!"
Well, this was a large and popular radio station back then, and that set a fire of speculation and the new trend of playing our records backwards. There are some very interesting reverse things on Stairway to Heaven by Led Zeppelin. So record sales were mighty big that year, with all these kids playing them all backwards. I often wonder if the record companies were devious enough to use and create this trend.
Well, I have recently spent some "quality" time examining this issue again. And I am actually still undecided.
Now, I have always considered myself to be rather logical and level headed. I have held positions of great responsibility in the newspaper industry. So apparently, others thought me of sound mind as well. So, how can a guy who has had to think logically most of his life, be on the fence on the Paul is Dead rumor? Pros at this investigation call it PID.
A friend of mine, Tina Foster, does extensive research in this area. Tina is very intelligent and also holds a position of responsibility. And she is firmly convinced that not only Paul was replaced, but all the Beatles were replaced. And she has narrowed it down to their American tour in August of 1966. Well, friends can disagree, eh?
And during my review of this issue, I have enlisted the help of two British friends as well. Mark Devlin is a well known DJ, specializing in hip hop music. Mark has done extensive research on the MK Ultra program, and how it probably related to the music industry. His work is very good, and I highly recommend you look him up on soundcloud.com
Neil Sanders holds two college degrees, and also does extensive research into MK Ultra, though with a much broader scope than does Mark. Neil is a great public speaker on many subjects, but his work on the MK Ultra program, and that of the Tavistock Institute in London, is very good. I highly recommend readers look up Neil on google, and peruse his work. It is fascinating.
The third ally in this investigation, has been author David McGowan, who has written a fascinating book on the hippie and music culture that existed in the Laurel Canyon neighborhood of Los Angeles, California. David lives nearby Laurel Canyon and has researched the sites of his reporting. The biographical information of so many stars in that era and area, leaves very little doubt that at least the CIA was heavily involved in that community.
I will give a few examples of what these folks have discovered. Jim Morrison of the Doors, has an interesting background. His father was in command of the Naval battle group that was involved in the infamous Gulf of Tonkin incident. That fictitious incident, as later admitted by then Secretary of Defense Robert McNamara, was the excuse for Lyndon B. Johnson, who was sworn in as president upon the death of John F. Kennedy, to insert major ground troops into South Vietnam. It was the turning point in our recent history, and I believe a real coup d'etat. I believe JFK's assassination was the result of the powers that be losing control due to Kennedy's rebellious attitude toward many delicate and long standing U.S. policies. He wanted to cooperate with the USSR in our space ventures. He wanted to disclose information about UFOs. He had the audacity to print treasury note money in defiance of the Federal Reserve Bank. He made numerous enemies, not to mention Bobby Kennedy's pursuit of organized crime, which was the first major push since the days of Eliot Ness and the Untouchables. But that theory needs a post of it's own.
Suffice to say there is a photo of a crew cut wearing Jim in uniform, standing next to his dad on the bridge of some Navy ship, and this was taken two years before he was singing with the Doors. And Jim Morrison is only one example of rock stars with military backgrounds. Take Frank Zappa, David Crosby, Stephen Stills, Joan Baez, Joni Mitchell, Gene Parsons, Jack Nicholson, Charles Manson, Sharon Tate, and the list goes on and on. For example, it is said that Paul McCartney was introduced to Charles Manson and they spent an entire evening talking.
The point is that all three of these previously mentioned authors and researchers, believe that the MK Ultra mind control programming of the CIA was in full swing in 1969, and largely centered on Hollywood and it's minions. In fact, they believe that our media is strictly controlled and used for manipulation of American society. Their theories are based on the powers that be and their desire to thwart any disadvantageous social movements, through manipulation of media and the ability to bend our minds in the desired direction through basic propaganda methods.
But these rock stars were probably not paid agents of the military/industrial establishment, but unwitting victims of the MK Ultra mind control programs begun in the 1950s. Timothy Leary himself said he loved the CIA, because they were responsible for introducing acid to the masses. It is said the CIA tried to purchase several pounds of acid from European makers. But only about forty grams were produced at that time. And it only takes 18 mics of acid to make one hit, or one twelve hour trip. So forty grams could probably stone New York City several times over! So imagine several pounds of the stuff. Wow, we'd still be tripping on that amount, as would our grandchildren. The military thought it could produce a super soldier, but only made them lay down their guns and giggle. So they decided that if given to those pesky protesters, it would confuse them and make them ineffective. However, I think that plan backfired. I think the idea may have been sound, but it didn't work when the acid just made people more dedicated.
However, the evidence is stunning that many entertainers were most probably subjected to MK Ultra mind control, and were used as mouth pieces to push the agenda, then and up to the present day. In fact, it is more prevalent now than in 1969. So is there mind control influence in our entertainment? I think there can be no doubt of that.
So could those powers that be, most likely in this instance the Tavistock Institute, replace a Beatle without our knowing? Sure. Wouldn't even be that difficult if you could find a talented musician who resembled Paul. A few plastic surgery procedures, and perhaps prosthetic devices and good makeup might get the job done.
I will digress again here to point out how easily this could have been accomplished. I have met the ultimate Beatles cover band, Rain. They have performed on Broadway, in movies, and around the world. If you close your eyes, you get fooled by them. You would swear you are listening to the Beatles, right down to the accents they use to speak with the audience. And the guy who plays Paul, looks a lot like the real guy. The point here, is that one could replace Paul with the proper resources, as it is not far fetched at all. Rain kind of proves that for me.
Then there is the forensic evidence. For instance, voice prints were done on three Beatles songs stated to have been sung by Paul. According to the prints, which are used as admissible court evidence, those three songs are sung by three different people. And two European college professors in the proper fields, analyzed Paul's head from thousands of photos, and stated it cannot be the same person, as there are discrepancies that cannot be altered by surgery. I won't go into the details here, but will refer you to Tina Foster's blog, plasticmacca.blogspot.com.
This forensic evidence is very compelling. And there is the fact that the Beatles stopped touring, and had a hiatus before recording Sergeant Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club Band released in 67. And for several years, they kept a low profile and were somewhat dysfunctional except in the recording studio. So the timing works as well for a replacement.
In fact, there is ample evidence to raise much suspicion around that band. But they aren't the only ones who were perhaps manipulated, as so was a very large group of musicians and actors. And there is just so much evidence to that effect, that even though I am kicking and screaming all the way, I must take it into my consideration. After all, forensic evidence is very hard to argue with any effect. That is the most factual evidence of the discrepancies with Paul over the years.
But, it is also very hard to tell just how much of this was deliberate, and how much was a hoax. While I lean toward the possible replacement of Paul, I don't lean that way with the rest of the band. And that being the case, it would require one hell of a conspiracy to cover up the replacement of Paul. Though I will say that the band seemed to never recover from 1966. And that all members seemed pretty sad. What happened between the frolicking happy kids of 1966, and the brooding guys of 67?
One thing was the death of Brian Epstein. I think the band never recovered from that. Particularly Lennon. And I think the death of Stu Sutcliff followed by Brian's death, forced that happy go lucky attitude to change and perhaps, mature.
Then there is the ages of those guys. They were at the age when one begins to truly grow into an adult. There is a big psychological change in one after living in the broader world for a few years, and it seems to fall in the later twenties. There are also physical changes in one around that age, when the metabolism begins to run at a different rate, and weight tends to gather around one's belly, and it also sometimes signals the beginning of those mysterious aches and pains adults seem to suffer that younger folks don't. There are many changes that occur at that age. So it is also quite possible that accounts for much of the difference in the band in those days. But it doesn't account for Paul's different physiology. I certainly wish other academics would take a look into the transformation of Paul's anatomy.
But whether Paul is dead or not, makes little difference. However, it illustrates a very important point, and that is the point of social manipulation by influencing youth through entertainment and it's inherent propaganda potential. If you control the music and the movies, you control the minds of teenagers, who later grow into adults. And the MK Ultra program showed how effectively they could manipulate an individual's mind. In fact, it is my suspicion that Sirhan Sirhan and Mark David Chapman were victims of mind control, and were therefore perfect assassins.
There is a large amount of evidence that this has gone on in the past, and is most likely going stronger today. After all, practice makes perfect, they say.
I will probably go into this mind control phenomena later in more detail, as it has made me reevaluate my youth and my generation. I don't much like it, but I also cannot deny it either. later, rw
That year we lost all our heroes, and we learned that one only had a certain amount of free speech in the U.S.A. Raise too much hell, and the powers that be send you there. Ask RFK, MLK, and so many others that died in 68. Even a fifteen year old could see that they'd taken JFK and his brother the same way, shots to the head. I think we all got the message.
And over 126 American cities burned in riots that year, largely in response to the killing of Martin Luther King. By that time, I was perhaps too dejected to be violent. I was more inclined to sit in a corner and wonder where I was and what I was doing here. By age fifteen, it was a pertinent question for an American boy to ask. I was then three years from my probable future in the rice paddies of Vietnam.
And after that stunning democratic convention and it's riots in Chicago, we elected Nixon. Most of us decided our future was doomed with that event. Somehow we'd deluded ourselves through the sixties, into thinking we had power as citizens. We didn't have nearly as much as we assumed.
So 1969 rolled around, and that was also one turbulent year. We'd heard the horror of the TET offensive in Vietnam, with all its death and destruction. We'd seen some of our classmates come home in a box by then. The war was finally sinking into the social zeitgeist which up to that time, had still been absorbed in a patriotic fervor left over from World War Two. Our parents couldn't fathom the government doing anything untoward. We were supposed to live like Ozzie and Harriet.
69 featured the taking of People's Park in Berkeley, California. Only one innocent person was killed by the police in that skirmish. James Rector was just passing by when he found a bullet, and probably wasn't even involved in the protest. Just a student. He'd be joined by four more souls the next year after the national guard decided to kill four students at Kent State. Meanwhile, in my little town in Missouri, I was constantly getting kicked out of school simply for wearing a black arm band in protest of the Vietnam war. Apparently my other high crime was trying to grow my hair. But it kept touching my collar, which would also get you kicked out of school in those days.
But having said all this, it was the best of times and the worst of times, but it was an exhilarating time to grow up and turn sixteen. I encountered Owlsley's Berkeley Brown Dot Acid that year. And my world changed, right along with thousands of other kids.
But there was also Woodstock, which was our shining time. There was also the lively Paul is dead rumor, which helped to occupy our otherwise troubled minds.
A few students, and one in particular, were looking into this little known rumor that actually had begun quite awhile before 69. This student made a very timely phone call into a radio station in Detroit, Michigan. He asked the DJ to play Revolution #9 backwards. This was a very weird thing for a DJ to do, as it pretty well destroys a vinyl record. But he did, and he heard the words clearly, "turn me on, dead man!"
Well, this was a large and popular radio station back then, and that set a fire of speculation and the new trend of playing our records backwards. There are some very interesting reverse things on Stairway to Heaven by Led Zeppelin. So record sales were mighty big that year, with all these kids playing them all backwards. I often wonder if the record companies were devious enough to use and create this trend.
Well, I have recently spent some "quality" time examining this issue again. And I am actually still undecided.
Now, I have always considered myself to be rather logical and level headed. I have held positions of great responsibility in the newspaper industry. So apparently, others thought me of sound mind as well. So, how can a guy who has had to think logically most of his life, be on the fence on the Paul is Dead rumor? Pros at this investigation call it PID.
A friend of mine, Tina Foster, does extensive research in this area. Tina is very intelligent and also holds a position of responsibility. And she is firmly convinced that not only Paul was replaced, but all the Beatles were replaced. And she has narrowed it down to their American tour in August of 1966. Well, friends can disagree, eh?
And during my review of this issue, I have enlisted the help of two British friends as well. Mark Devlin is a well known DJ, specializing in hip hop music. Mark has done extensive research on the MK Ultra program, and how it probably related to the music industry. His work is very good, and I highly recommend you look him up on soundcloud.com
Neil Sanders holds two college degrees, and also does extensive research into MK Ultra, though with a much broader scope than does Mark. Neil is a great public speaker on many subjects, but his work on the MK Ultra program, and that of the Tavistock Institute in London, is very good. I highly recommend readers look up Neil on google, and peruse his work. It is fascinating.
The third ally in this investigation, has been author David McGowan, who has written a fascinating book on the hippie and music culture that existed in the Laurel Canyon neighborhood of Los Angeles, California. David lives nearby Laurel Canyon and has researched the sites of his reporting. The biographical information of so many stars in that era and area, leaves very little doubt that at least the CIA was heavily involved in that community.
I will give a few examples of what these folks have discovered. Jim Morrison of the Doors, has an interesting background. His father was in command of the Naval battle group that was involved in the infamous Gulf of Tonkin incident. That fictitious incident, as later admitted by then Secretary of Defense Robert McNamara, was the excuse for Lyndon B. Johnson, who was sworn in as president upon the death of John F. Kennedy, to insert major ground troops into South Vietnam. It was the turning point in our recent history, and I believe a real coup d'etat. I believe JFK's assassination was the result of the powers that be losing control due to Kennedy's rebellious attitude toward many delicate and long standing U.S. policies. He wanted to cooperate with the USSR in our space ventures. He wanted to disclose information about UFOs. He had the audacity to print treasury note money in defiance of the Federal Reserve Bank. He made numerous enemies, not to mention Bobby Kennedy's pursuit of organized crime, which was the first major push since the days of Eliot Ness and the Untouchables. But that theory needs a post of it's own.
Suffice to say there is a photo of a crew cut wearing Jim in uniform, standing next to his dad on the bridge of some Navy ship, and this was taken two years before he was singing with the Doors. And Jim Morrison is only one example of rock stars with military backgrounds. Take Frank Zappa, David Crosby, Stephen Stills, Joan Baez, Joni Mitchell, Gene Parsons, Jack Nicholson, Charles Manson, Sharon Tate, and the list goes on and on. For example, it is said that Paul McCartney was introduced to Charles Manson and they spent an entire evening talking.
The point is that all three of these previously mentioned authors and researchers, believe that the MK Ultra mind control programming of the CIA was in full swing in 1969, and largely centered on Hollywood and it's minions. In fact, they believe that our media is strictly controlled and used for manipulation of American society. Their theories are based on the powers that be and their desire to thwart any disadvantageous social movements, through manipulation of media and the ability to bend our minds in the desired direction through basic propaganda methods.
But these rock stars were probably not paid agents of the military/industrial establishment, but unwitting victims of the MK Ultra mind control programs begun in the 1950s. Timothy Leary himself said he loved the CIA, because they were responsible for introducing acid to the masses. It is said the CIA tried to purchase several pounds of acid from European makers. But only about forty grams were produced at that time. And it only takes 18 mics of acid to make one hit, or one twelve hour trip. So forty grams could probably stone New York City several times over! So imagine several pounds of the stuff. Wow, we'd still be tripping on that amount, as would our grandchildren. The military thought it could produce a super soldier, but only made them lay down their guns and giggle. So they decided that if given to those pesky protesters, it would confuse them and make them ineffective. However, I think that plan backfired. I think the idea may have been sound, but it didn't work when the acid just made people more dedicated.
However, the evidence is stunning that many entertainers were most probably subjected to MK Ultra mind control, and were used as mouth pieces to push the agenda, then and up to the present day. In fact, it is more prevalent now than in 1969. So is there mind control influence in our entertainment? I think there can be no doubt of that.
So could those powers that be, most likely in this instance the Tavistock Institute, replace a Beatle without our knowing? Sure. Wouldn't even be that difficult if you could find a talented musician who resembled Paul. A few plastic surgery procedures, and perhaps prosthetic devices and good makeup might get the job done.
I will digress again here to point out how easily this could have been accomplished. I have met the ultimate Beatles cover band, Rain. They have performed on Broadway, in movies, and around the world. If you close your eyes, you get fooled by them. You would swear you are listening to the Beatles, right down to the accents they use to speak with the audience. And the guy who plays Paul, looks a lot like the real guy. The point here, is that one could replace Paul with the proper resources, as it is not far fetched at all. Rain kind of proves that for me.
Then there is the forensic evidence. For instance, voice prints were done on three Beatles songs stated to have been sung by Paul. According to the prints, which are used as admissible court evidence, those three songs are sung by three different people. And two European college professors in the proper fields, analyzed Paul's head from thousands of photos, and stated it cannot be the same person, as there are discrepancies that cannot be altered by surgery. I won't go into the details here, but will refer you to Tina Foster's blog, plasticmacca.blogspot.com.
This forensic evidence is very compelling. And there is the fact that the Beatles stopped touring, and had a hiatus before recording Sergeant Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club Band released in 67. And for several years, they kept a low profile and were somewhat dysfunctional except in the recording studio. So the timing works as well for a replacement.
In fact, there is ample evidence to raise much suspicion around that band. But they aren't the only ones who were perhaps manipulated, as so was a very large group of musicians and actors. And there is just so much evidence to that effect, that even though I am kicking and screaming all the way, I must take it into my consideration. After all, forensic evidence is very hard to argue with any effect. That is the most factual evidence of the discrepancies with Paul over the years.
But, it is also very hard to tell just how much of this was deliberate, and how much was a hoax. While I lean toward the possible replacement of Paul, I don't lean that way with the rest of the band. And that being the case, it would require one hell of a conspiracy to cover up the replacement of Paul. Though I will say that the band seemed to never recover from 1966. And that all members seemed pretty sad. What happened between the frolicking happy kids of 1966, and the brooding guys of 67?
One thing was the death of Brian Epstein. I think the band never recovered from that. Particularly Lennon. And I think the death of Stu Sutcliff followed by Brian's death, forced that happy go lucky attitude to change and perhaps, mature.
Then there is the ages of those guys. They were at the age when one begins to truly grow into an adult. There is a big psychological change in one after living in the broader world for a few years, and it seems to fall in the later twenties. There are also physical changes in one around that age, when the metabolism begins to run at a different rate, and weight tends to gather around one's belly, and it also sometimes signals the beginning of those mysterious aches and pains adults seem to suffer that younger folks don't. There are many changes that occur at that age. So it is also quite possible that accounts for much of the difference in the band in those days. But it doesn't account for Paul's different physiology. I certainly wish other academics would take a look into the transformation of Paul's anatomy.
But whether Paul is dead or not, makes little difference. However, it illustrates a very important point, and that is the point of social manipulation by influencing youth through entertainment and it's inherent propaganda potential. If you control the music and the movies, you control the minds of teenagers, who later grow into adults. And the MK Ultra program showed how effectively they could manipulate an individual's mind. In fact, it is my suspicion that Sirhan Sirhan and Mark David Chapman were victims of mind control, and were therefore perfect assassins.
There is a large amount of evidence that this has gone on in the past, and is most likely going stronger today. After all, practice makes perfect, they say.
I will probably go into this mind control phenomena later in more detail, as it has made me reevaluate my youth and my generation. I don't much like it, but I also cannot deny it either. later, rw
Wednesday, December 10, 2014
What If It All Ended Tomorrow?
So, I was born in 1953, the year of the first hydrogen bomb, and the MK Ultra program was really getting going. The Korean War was fresh on the minds of people, and my dad and mom lived in Kansas City while dad was attending dental school. And now, they had a son. However, it wasn't an easy process.
The doctor approached my dad while mom was in labor, and asked him which life he wanted to save, me or my mom. Luckily, dad said to save them both, and that doctor got it accomplished. And we are all three alive today, so apparently he knew his business. I am very happy about that, as this life has been very interesting, and I'd hate to have missed it!
So as the yield of the nuclear bombs was growing, so was I. This post was led with the nukes and MK Ultra. Why? Because both are on my mind tonight.
An older friend asked me a question I'd never heard recently. He said, "I'm pre-atomic, how about you?" I wondered what he meant by pre-atomic, and he explained he'd been born before the nuclear bomb was exploded at White Sands, and before they were dropped on Japan. His theory was that those born before 1945 were different biologically from those born after. Once 53 rolled around, they'd exploded lots of nukes, in tests thankfully.
I began to wonder about his theory, and found it plausible. Radiation produced by all those thousands of atomic tests, doesn't disappear. At least not for a few thousand years or so. So with all that radiation from over 2,000 nuclear explosions still living here on the planet with us, it is easy to think that we, who were born after the first nuke, are irradiated to a certain degree. And that being exposed to this radiation when very young and in our formative years, that our biology may be different from those born before. He didn't posit how noticeable or extensive that nuclear change would appear, but simply that there was a difference. I found the idea intriguing.
However, it's not as if I can do anything about it, eh? So I began thinking of the implications of the actions of those scientists who pulled the trigger on the first bomb test in New Mexico. I have read that many of those guys were very apprehensive to pull that trigger, because they thought the nuclear reaction might not end before consuming the atmosphere of the planet. Oppenheimer quoted Indian texts as they pulled that trigger. I wonder if he knew somehow, that he'd changed the planet forever?
One small tug on that trigger changed the world, and I mean really changed everything. Perhaps the most important and lasting change, besides the half lives of all that radiation, was the effect on the psychology of the human race. We now were all living with the threat of annihilation at any moment. For the first time, we had to live with the horror of finding out you had about fifteen minutes to live, then it all goes up in smoke. It was a terrifying thought that some unknown man sitting half a globe away, could push a button and kill several million people a few minutes later. Let that sentence sink in for a bit, he could kill several million folks simply by pushing a button, or turning a key, or whatever process they had designed for death.
Of course, I've known for years how man's most impressive technology has always been built for killing each other. That is what we do best, kill each other. Since the beginning of time, I suppose, we've been honing our skills of murder. How many societies built their own wealth on the murder of others. I would suggest every one that has ever existed. And that includes the one we currently inhabit. Ours here in the U.S. was built on killing the indigenous people and exploiting their resources. And we pretty efficiently exterminated the Native American population, and killed a very beautiful way of life, in my opinion. However, I have a significant amount of that Native American DNA in my own recipe, so perhaps I'm jaded.
Never the less, we kill each other so efficiently that one person in the correct situation, can exterminate the species by instituting an all out nuclear war. It is such an easy chain reaction of emotion. Just imagine when that one guy pulls a trigger, a bomb explodes, but before that happens, many other bombs are launched. So soon, there are dozens of nuclear explosions around the world, and then everyone pulls their triggers before they are blown up, so all the bombs, or at least the large majority of them, are triggered. Poof, the human population is thinned or even wiped out entirely. And that's not to mention the other inhabitants of the planet. So that one man could conceivably cause a world wide extinction. I am unsure how those guys like Robert Salas could sit at one of those missile consoles day after day. The mental exercises he must have endured!
What we all endured was torture enough. I learned to duck and cover as soon as I learned to read, in fact, probably sooner. Most families had their own "bomb shelter" dug into their yards. Yeah, right, I really want to crawl into a hole in the ground with some canned food and water, then wonder why? What will you find when you emerge from your hole?
Somehow at a very early age, like elementary school, my friends and I realized the irony of crawling into a hole. We often compared it to the ostrich with his head in the sand. But the construction companies were building bomb shelters at a brisk pace. Apparently our parents hadn't figured out that if one bomb flew, they probably would all fly. They'd been sold a bill of goods regarding their military prowess, and that God and country would always prevail. After all, Americans didn't lose wars, did we?
Well, I remember clearly as if it were yesterday, sitting between my parents and watching as John Kennedy told us that we might blow up at any time. It was the infamous Cuban missile crisis, and we were gathered on the couch in the family room, shivering with fear. We weren't alone. I think the world changed in those few hours of terror. And I am not referring to politics except in the broadest sense. No, I am referring to the social Zeitgeist. We were all terrified, no matter how braggadocios some may have been. And I believe that for the first time ever, the world realized the implications of those weapons. Until then, I think they really did think they could survive a nuclear exchange with the Russians, or anyone else.
Obviously that changed their minds. Once the population had time to digest those events, we all realized we were most likely doomed.
Now, in the last month of 2014, I am amazed we are all still alive. After all, way back when they shot the first of those death fireworks in New Mexico, they didn't know if we'd survive that first blast. But they pulled that trigger anyway. Ponder those implications. Because it isn't the only time men have taken the ultimate chance of destruction. We throw ourselves into battle at the drop of a pin. Why not blow up the world, eh?
I also mentioned MK Ultra. That just blows my mind, and I suppose the mind of countless others. I believe I am a victim of MK Ultra, but I also believe that all of you are as well. You see, nuclear science wasn't alone in exploring the boundaries of destruction and self immolation. The psychologists, psychiatrists, and sociologists were hard at it as well. And they enlisted the help of the chemists, and before you know it, we had LSD. These military/espionage men thought they'd found the wonder drug of mind washing. Yet, after experiments, they realized that this drug turned soldiers not into the fighting mindless robots they'd envisioned, but into giggling peace loving hippies. The soldiers mostly laid down their guns, and examined the new world around them. I think that is hilarious.
So for some reason, they decided to loose Acid on the masses. I'm not sure what they thought they'd accomplish, but I remain happy that they did so. You see, perhaps they thought they'd confuse us so badly, we would stop challenging authority in areas like race relations and peace. We were interfering with the military/industrial complex that Eisenhower warned us to avoid. He said it was bad to put so much power in the hands of a few men, without strict oversight. Well, we dropped that ball, eh?
But so did the powers that be, because they actually focused our rebellion by giving us the Acid. Much like they never really knew the yield from those nukes before pulling the trigger, they pulled the Acid trigger without really knowing the yield. Others may argue differently, but I think that one backfired on them. The riots of 68 should be all the proof one needs as to that end, as most folks in those protests, had taken Acid and if not, they'd at least smoked the dreaded reefer. Sadly, I remember when "Reefer Madness" was a fairly new release.
So they got more than they bargained for with their MK Ultra experiment, which I believe to be still going strong. I think they learned rapidly how to utilize their new found psychological skills, and have continued to refine them over the decades since. When a secret government program gets "disclosed", it is easy to simply change the name and continue as before. I think that has been done over and over in our history.
Today, I fear we are is severe danger, and perhaps even beyond the point of no return. I fear any semblance of self government is gone. We retain the ability to govern ourselves extremely locally, but when it gets to government on any large scale, I believe our representatives are slaves to special interests, and largely corrupt. I hate being that cynical, but it seems to be human nature, really. Any system, no matter how good, seems to get corrupted very rapidly. I sometimes think that fighting corruption is actually fighting human nature. We win lots of battles, but seem to be losing the war. We are always striving to better ourselves, but society seems to always be on a downward turn.
I think that is why my formative years in the fifties, and teenage years in the sixties were so wonderful. Despite living in a world existing under the threat of instant annihilation, and watching my likely future every night when the nightly news showed pictures of the graphic ugliness of Vietnam, it was a world of hope. There was a brief few years, when I actually thought we were curing our societal ills. Maybe it was delusion. But like a medicine that helps when you are hurting, you don't care if it is a placebo effect. It felt good.
So while I was singing "Love Me Tender", the powers that be were singing, kill me quick. Well, maybe it is silly and naive, but I still like to wonder what it would have been like if that killing energy had been directed toward keeping people alive. John Lennon challenged us to "Imagine." I still like to take him up on that one. later, rw
The doctor approached my dad while mom was in labor, and asked him which life he wanted to save, me or my mom. Luckily, dad said to save them both, and that doctor got it accomplished. And we are all three alive today, so apparently he knew his business. I am very happy about that, as this life has been very interesting, and I'd hate to have missed it!
So as the yield of the nuclear bombs was growing, so was I. This post was led with the nukes and MK Ultra. Why? Because both are on my mind tonight.
An older friend asked me a question I'd never heard recently. He said, "I'm pre-atomic, how about you?" I wondered what he meant by pre-atomic, and he explained he'd been born before the nuclear bomb was exploded at White Sands, and before they were dropped on Japan. His theory was that those born before 1945 were different biologically from those born after. Once 53 rolled around, they'd exploded lots of nukes, in tests thankfully.
I began to wonder about his theory, and found it plausible. Radiation produced by all those thousands of atomic tests, doesn't disappear. At least not for a few thousand years or so. So with all that radiation from over 2,000 nuclear explosions still living here on the planet with us, it is easy to think that we, who were born after the first nuke, are irradiated to a certain degree. And that being exposed to this radiation when very young and in our formative years, that our biology may be different from those born before. He didn't posit how noticeable or extensive that nuclear change would appear, but simply that there was a difference. I found the idea intriguing.
However, it's not as if I can do anything about it, eh? So I began thinking of the implications of the actions of those scientists who pulled the trigger on the first bomb test in New Mexico. I have read that many of those guys were very apprehensive to pull that trigger, because they thought the nuclear reaction might not end before consuming the atmosphere of the planet. Oppenheimer quoted Indian texts as they pulled that trigger. I wonder if he knew somehow, that he'd changed the planet forever?
One small tug on that trigger changed the world, and I mean really changed everything. Perhaps the most important and lasting change, besides the half lives of all that radiation, was the effect on the psychology of the human race. We now were all living with the threat of annihilation at any moment. For the first time, we had to live with the horror of finding out you had about fifteen minutes to live, then it all goes up in smoke. It was a terrifying thought that some unknown man sitting half a globe away, could push a button and kill several million people a few minutes later. Let that sentence sink in for a bit, he could kill several million folks simply by pushing a button, or turning a key, or whatever process they had designed for death.
Of course, I've known for years how man's most impressive technology has always been built for killing each other. That is what we do best, kill each other. Since the beginning of time, I suppose, we've been honing our skills of murder. How many societies built their own wealth on the murder of others. I would suggest every one that has ever existed. And that includes the one we currently inhabit. Ours here in the U.S. was built on killing the indigenous people and exploiting their resources. And we pretty efficiently exterminated the Native American population, and killed a very beautiful way of life, in my opinion. However, I have a significant amount of that Native American DNA in my own recipe, so perhaps I'm jaded.
Never the less, we kill each other so efficiently that one person in the correct situation, can exterminate the species by instituting an all out nuclear war. It is such an easy chain reaction of emotion. Just imagine when that one guy pulls a trigger, a bomb explodes, but before that happens, many other bombs are launched. So soon, there are dozens of nuclear explosions around the world, and then everyone pulls their triggers before they are blown up, so all the bombs, or at least the large majority of them, are triggered. Poof, the human population is thinned or even wiped out entirely. And that's not to mention the other inhabitants of the planet. So that one man could conceivably cause a world wide extinction. I am unsure how those guys like Robert Salas could sit at one of those missile consoles day after day. The mental exercises he must have endured!
What we all endured was torture enough. I learned to duck and cover as soon as I learned to read, in fact, probably sooner. Most families had their own "bomb shelter" dug into their yards. Yeah, right, I really want to crawl into a hole in the ground with some canned food and water, then wonder why? What will you find when you emerge from your hole?
Somehow at a very early age, like elementary school, my friends and I realized the irony of crawling into a hole. We often compared it to the ostrich with his head in the sand. But the construction companies were building bomb shelters at a brisk pace. Apparently our parents hadn't figured out that if one bomb flew, they probably would all fly. They'd been sold a bill of goods regarding their military prowess, and that God and country would always prevail. After all, Americans didn't lose wars, did we?
Well, I remember clearly as if it were yesterday, sitting between my parents and watching as John Kennedy told us that we might blow up at any time. It was the infamous Cuban missile crisis, and we were gathered on the couch in the family room, shivering with fear. We weren't alone. I think the world changed in those few hours of terror. And I am not referring to politics except in the broadest sense. No, I am referring to the social Zeitgeist. We were all terrified, no matter how braggadocios some may have been. And I believe that for the first time ever, the world realized the implications of those weapons. Until then, I think they really did think they could survive a nuclear exchange with the Russians, or anyone else.
Obviously that changed their minds. Once the population had time to digest those events, we all realized we were most likely doomed.
Now, in the last month of 2014, I am amazed we are all still alive. After all, way back when they shot the first of those death fireworks in New Mexico, they didn't know if we'd survive that first blast. But they pulled that trigger anyway. Ponder those implications. Because it isn't the only time men have taken the ultimate chance of destruction. We throw ourselves into battle at the drop of a pin. Why not blow up the world, eh?
I also mentioned MK Ultra. That just blows my mind, and I suppose the mind of countless others. I believe I am a victim of MK Ultra, but I also believe that all of you are as well. You see, nuclear science wasn't alone in exploring the boundaries of destruction and self immolation. The psychologists, psychiatrists, and sociologists were hard at it as well. And they enlisted the help of the chemists, and before you know it, we had LSD. These military/espionage men thought they'd found the wonder drug of mind washing. Yet, after experiments, they realized that this drug turned soldiers not into the fighting mindless robots they'd envisioned, but into giggling peace loving hippies. The soldiers mostly laid down their guns, and examined the new world around them. I think that is hilarious.
So for some reason, they decided to loose Acid on the masses. I'm not sure what they thought they'd accomplish, but I remain happy that they did so. You see, perhaps they thought they'd confuse us so badly, we would stop challenging authority in areas like race relations and peace. We were interfering with the military/industrial complex that Eisenhower warned us to avoid. He said it was bad to put so much power in the hands of a few men, without strict oversight. Well, we dropped that ball, eh?
But so did the powers that be, because they actually focused our rebellion by giving us the Acid. Much like they never really knew the yield from those nukes before pulling the trigger, they pulled the Acid trigger without really knowing the yield. Others may argue differently, but I think that one backfired on them. The riots of 68 should be all the proof one needs as to that end, as most folks in those protests, had taken Acid and if not, they'd at least smoked the dreaded reefer. Sadly, I remember when "Reefer Madness" was a fairly new release.
So they got more than they bargained for with their MK Ultra experiment, which I believe to be still going strong. I think they learned rapidly how to utilize their new found psychological skills, and have continued to refine them over the decades since. When a secret government program gets "disclosed", it is easy to simply change the name and continue as before. I think that has been done over and over in our history.
Today, I fear we are is severe danger, and perhaps even beyond the point of no return. I fear any semblance of self government is gone. We retain the ability to govern ourselves extremely locally, but when it gets to government on any large scale, I believe our representatives are slaves to special interests, and largely corrupt. I hate being that cynical, but it seems to be human nature, really. Any system, no matter how good, seems to get corrupted very rapidly. I sometimes think that fighting corruption is actually fighting human nature. We win lots of battles, but seem to be losing the war. We are always striving to better ourselves, but society seems to always be on a downward turn.
I think that is why my formative years in the fifties, and teenage years in the sixties were so wonderful. Despite living in a world existing under the threat of instant annihilation, and watching my likely future every night when the nightly news showed pictures of the graphic ugliness of Vietnam, it was a world of hope. There was a brief few years, when I actually thought we were curing our societal ills. Maybe it was delusion. But like a medicine that helps when you are hurting, you don't care if it is a placebo effect. It felt good.
So while I was singing "Love Me Tender", the powers that be were singing, kill me quick. Well, maybe it is silly and naive, but I still like to wonder what it would have been like if that killing energy had been directed toward keeping people alive. John Lennon challenged us to "Imagine." I still like to take him up on that one. later, rw
Saturday, December 6, 2014
At My Age, Everything Is A Long Story
So, here we go. I'm moving into the twenty first century now. Oh well, in for a dime, in for a dollar I suppose.
I have been told many times to begin a blog of my own, but perhaps it is my Ozark upbringing which causes me to immediately rebel against most any suggestion. At heart, perhaps I'm just a stubborn old hillbilly.
But having put my toe in the water at last, I will jump right into what will either be a delightful spring fed pool, or some unspeakable hell hole. This is to be determined.
Though new to this build a blog stuff, I do think I was able to post a link to my music on soundcloud. So if there is a desire to make your eardrums bleed, you can give a listen. This music was all recorded prior to 1982, and is as old as 1975. It is pretty weird to be old enough to have my own forty year old time capsule.
I have spent decades in the newspaper publishing business, and prior to that I was a professional musician. In 2002 I had an unfortunate outcome to an elective surgical procedure on my ankle, which became infected and caused my physical disability. So having plenty of time on my hands, I spent five years as a Huffington Post Blogger, and have spent the last few years booking authors and guests on several radio shows. Among them, Dark Matter with Art Bell, Coast to Coast AM with George Noory and John B Wells, The Unexplained with Howard Hughes, and several others.
I suppose you may have gleaned that I like esoteric subjects. Perhaps it all goes back to my hippie days. I will leave that for the reader to surmise, as this blog will largely be my recollections of a very exciting life spent trying to figure out what I was doing. At age 61, I am still trying to decide what I want to be when I grow up.
However, here I can make some stupid generalities having lived this long. First and foremost, I realize that the more I learn, the more ignorant I become. Every answer leads to many more questions. And about every ten years, we learn that our previously held facts, are now false. I really have no idea how many glasses of water I am supposed to drink in a day, so I just wing it.
When one reaches sixty, everything is a long story. I can't seem to answer even the simplest question if I truly want to frame it within it's proper context. So unless you have some time on your hands, don't ask me any questions.
Things I love, Of course my family. My wife Kim of thirty three years, and our son Tom of 29. These two are my crowning achievement, and my reason for remaining interested in most things. Sometimes while Tom was growing up, I often worried he would feel ostracized by his peers, as he still had both of his original parents.
I love golf. I realize it is strange for an old hippie to like the "gentleman's game", but my father was a dentist, which means I grew up with a golf club in hand. Unfortunately, I haven't been able to play for a dozen years now, due to my disability. But the game still gets played inside my head most every night, as I am drifting off to sleep. If there is a Heaven, I am anticipating many wonderful rounds of golf there.
But my lifelong love has been music. I purchased "You Ain't Nothin But A Hound Dog" by Elvis at age three. (I was three, not Elvis.) And from that day forward, I felt the pull of the stage. I began studying piano at age four, playing for money at age twelve, and having a very interesting childhood due to that compulsion to play. Music has shown me all strata of society, all types of geography, and a far different reality than shared by most. I was usually the youngest in the crowd, and for some reason it remains so today.
I suppose one could say I was ahead of my time, or conversely that I grew old before my time. But I do think I'd have fared better if I'd been born just a few years earlier, say in 1947, the year of Roswell. As it was, I did experience the most turbulent years of the late sixties, and was of an age and had the right friends, to enable me to see it from a contemporaneous point of view. And like so many others, those years from 67 to 75 remain a golden age for me.
Well, stay tuned here if you wish, as I will role out the experiences of this strange and wondrous trip of mine. It doesn't matter, as I am selling nothing, nor do I have any particular message to impart. I am going to do this anyway. So for something entirely free of charge, and those things are rare, hang around from time to time, and leave a comment if you'd like. I have always made it my policy to try to answer all comments, which was quite a chore at Huffington Post. But if you take the time to write, you deserve an answer. The old golden rule always comes into play, eh? later, rw
I have been told many times to begin a blog of my own, but perhaps it is my Ozark upbringing which causes me to immediately rebel against most any suggestion. At heart, perhaps I'm just a stubborn old hillbilly.
But having put my toe in the water at last, I will jump right into what will either be a delightful spring fed pool, or some unspeakable hell hole. This is to be determined.
Though new to this build a blog stuff, I do think I was able to post a link to my music on soundcloud. So if there is a desire to make your eardrums bleed, you can give a listen. This music was all recorded prior to 1982, and is as old as 1975. It is pretty weird to be old enough to have my own forty year old time capsule.
I have spent decades in the newspaper publishing business, and prior to that I was a professional musician. In 2002 I had an unfortunate outcome to an elective surgical procedure on my ankle, which became infected and caused my physical disability. So having plenty of time on my hands, I spent five years as a Huffington Post Blogger, and have spent the last few years booking authors and guests on several radio shows. Among them, Dark Matter with Art Bell, Coast to Coast AM with George Noory and John B Wells, The Unexplained with Howard Hughes, and several others.
I suppose you may have gleaned that I like esoteric subjects. Perhaps it all goes back to my hippie days. I will leave that for the reader to surmise, as this blog will largely be my recollections of a very exciting life spent trying to figure out what I was doing. At age 61, I am still trying to decide what I want to be when I grow up.
However, here I can make some stupid generalities having lived this long. First and foremost, I realize that the more I learn, the more ignorant I become. Every answer leads to many more questions. And about every ten years, we learn that our previously held facts, are now false. I really have no idea how many glasses of water I am supposed to drink in a day, so I just wing it.
When one reaches sixty, everything is a long story. I can't seem to answer even the simplest question if I truly want to frame it within it's proper context. So unless you have some time on your hands, don't ask me any questions.
Things I love, Of course my family. My wife Kim of thirty three years, and our son Tom of 29. These two are my crowning achievement, and my reason for remaining interested in most things. Sometimes while Tom was growing up, I often worried he would feel ostracized by his peers, as he still had both of his original parents.
I love golf. I realize it is strange for an old hippie to like the "gentleman's game", but my father was a dentist, which means I grew up with a golf club in hand. Unfortunately, I haven't been able to play for a dozen years now, due to my disability. But the game still gets played inside my head most every night, as I am drifting off to sleep. If there is a Heaven, I am anticipating many wonderful rounds of golf there.
But my lifelong love has been music. I purchased "You Ain't Nothin But A Hound Dog" by Elvis at age three. (I was three, not Elvis.) And from that day forward, I felt the pull of the stage. I began studying piano at age four, playing for money at age twelve, and having a very interesting childhood due to that compulsion to play. Music has shown me all strata of society, all types of geography, and a far different reality than shared by most. I was usually the youngest in the crowd, and for some reason it remains so today.
I suppose one could say I was ahead of my time, or conversely that I grew old before my time. But I do think I'd have fared better if I'd been born just a few years earlier, say in 1947, the year of Roswell. As it was, I did experience the most turbulent years of the late sixties, and was of an age and had the right friends, to enable me to see it from a contemporaneous point of view. And like so many others, those years from 67 to 75 remain a golden age for me.
Well, stay tuned here if you wish, as I will role out the experiences of this strange and wondrous trip of mine. It doesn't matter, as I am selling nothing, nor do I have any particular message to impart. I am going to do this anyway. So for something entirely free of charge, and those things are rare, hang around from time to time, and leave a comment if you'd like. I have always made it my policy to try to answer all comments, which was quite a chore at Huffington Post. But if you take the time to write, you deserve an answer. The old golden rule always comes into play, eh? later, rw
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