|
To get the UP! delivered straight to your IN-BOX each week, write to
fraser@parallel-youniversity.com with "I WANNA GET UP!" in the SUBJECT box.
|
Click Here to read the last UP!!
Click Here to read the next UP!
(\o/)(\o/)(\o/
(\o/)(\o/)(\o/)(\o/)(\o/)(\o/)(\o/)(\o/)(\o/)(\o/)(\o/)(\o/)(\o/)(\o/)(\o/)(\o/)(\o/)(\o/)(\o/)(\o
the UP! is a global edutainment round-up, broadcast weekly to =[14,279]= Alternative// Activist// Zippy// Trance// New Age// Peace folks recommended to the Parallel YOUniversity// Megatripolis Dance Dept as "showing signs of life". Since recipients forward it widely to their own lists & sites, we conservatively estimate 50,000+ direct recipients. A further 40,000 read it on the YOUniversity's site. And, because of its 'mix' of 'specialist' & 'general' content, it's increasingly being posted on a variety of sites worldwide, making an estimated total weekly readership of =[275,000]= (\o/)(\o/)(\o/ (\o/)(\o/)\(o/)(\o/)(\o/)(\o/)(\o/)(\o/)(\o/)(\o/)(\o/)(\o/)(\o/)(\o/)(\o/)(\o/)(\o/)(\o/)(\o/)(\o Reality
Shifts
Timothy Leary’s Death by Carol Sue Rosin whom
he’d asked to “move in”
During his last week he told me the
drugs were no longer working. He said his body was giving out and he
couldn’t stand his quality of life, diapers, that he was losing his
ability to hear and communicate, and that he felt embarrassed by his
inability to recognise friends, including Arlen and
Robert Anton
Wilson whom he loved but
didn’t know them one day when they arrived for a visit. That was the
final straw. He was deteriorating rapidly and he knew it. He stopped
eating. And continued to smoke cigarettes and breathe
nitrous
oxide until the day before he
died.A few days before he died I reminded him he had said he wanted to call his favourite ex- wife, Rosemary . But he now changed his mind. He said, “Do not call her! I don’t want to talk to her!” “Why not?” “Having trouble communicating,” he said. As usual, I didn’t listen, dialled, and handed him the phone. He glared at me, but asked her to drop everything and come. She did. (He had told me that one of the main reasons he wanted me there with him was because I was one friend who didn’t listen to anything he said... and he knew times with him were about to get difficult.) About 5 pm the day before he died, he called me to join him in the dining room. There he was in his electric wheelchair. He handed me a pink [nitrous oxide] balloon and said, “Carol, this is my last balloon.” He paused, head down, and sounded so sad, “I will never have another balloon.” In my denial, I rather flippantly said, “Oh, you don’t know that.” And I’ve been sorry ever since that I didn’t just face what he was saying as a final reality shift. All of a sudden he had slipped into his real feeling state, and I was left behind, in denial. I wasn’t ready to shift into this reality. Quietly, he repeated, “I will never do another balloon.” And I finally heard him. That night, May 29th, I told Timothy that I felt I should leave the house in order to give Rosemary , whom I had invited even though Timothy said he didn’t want her there, and the others, time with him. I asked if he thought he would die before morning. He said, “No, I’ll wait for you.” He liked to say things like that to people but I believed he meant it this time so I left for the night. I phoned from my car the next morning. Vicki, his trusted assistant for many years, told me to hurry, that he was fading fast. He had already been up and around in his wheelchair looking at the garden and saying good-bye to the birds, when I arrived, and had gotten back into bed to start an intentional slow breathing process. During the first part of the day I helped the nurse put some ice cubes on his lips. At one point, he grabbed one and popped it into his mouth, as if to say, “So there! I still have control -- over an ice cube!” Still humorous. Then, sleep. Ram Dass talked on the speaker phone to us - to help our spirits through this time. He was so wonderful during this process of Timothy’s, and ours, and mine. At the hospice nurse’s instruction, I checked his diaper now and then, but his bladder had stopped functioning. The nurse asked me to help change his shirt to that oversized “BIG ” T-shirt he requested to die in… from the Broadway show my husband was in during this time … it said, “If you only have one wish… make it BIG.” That was his choice of what to wear as he finally de-animated. People took shifts sitting around his bed. I hardly noticed who was there. Nothing seemed real and yet the reality seemed amplified. The living room filled with people, all waiting for the inevitable. And I learned later that the street was filled with media trucks… all also somehow knowing this was “it.” The night hospice nurse, John, a beautiful Jamaican man, told us not to touch Timothy’s body because that might bring him back, that he was trying to leave. He suggested each of us repeat a silent message saying “I/we love you Timothy. You can go now.” The few by his bedside all did this. At one point, Timothy looked at Rosemary and mouthed, “I love you,” and she did the same. At another, he sat straight up in his bed, just when we thought he was about to die, and said, “WHY?” Then repeating over and over many times, looking into everyone’s eyes separately and repeating those words, with every inflection imaginable, he said, “WHY NOT? WHY not! Why not! Why NOT!” Suddenly, as I sat by his bed waiting, about 12:44 AM on May 31st, I felt a huge rush of warmth rush through my body. The room illuminated in amber light. I could hardly catch my breath. I sat up at exactly the same second John, the Hospice nurse, sat up. I think we noticed before anyone that Timothy had taken his last breath. I was sure I had felt Timothy’s soul leave his body and fill the room. John then signalled to me with his eyes and hand to join him next to Timothy’s head. We had been sitting on opposite sides of his bed. John put his fingers on Timothy’s neck. He asked me with his eyes if I’d like to. I did. I was a little shaky, sweating. Thoughts flashed into my mind like, “Is he really dead? Why did John pick me to do this?” And I couldn’t stop saying in my mind, “Timothy, are you here?” I felt his strong pulse. But he wasn’t breathing. This was confusing. Did I put my head on his chest or am I imagining I did it? Nothing seemed real. With my fingers on his neck, his pulse faded away. I announced he was gone... but I looked up to the ceiling. My mind tried to talk to him there. The room was lit with candles and white Christmas lights. But I saw the room turn deep yellow, white, green, and then amberish... truly radiant. I felt his presence, for sure, and his consciousness, or was it his spirit. I definitely felt him still there! Everyone waiting in the living room took turns saying good-bye. Some cried and hugged each other. Others just sat or stood quietly. I was the last to leave his room. Then I heard a voice, Timothy reminding me… and I remembered that Timothy had put my camera behind his dresser so I could take his picture when he died. At the time when he asked me to do it, I couldn’t believe I’d do such a thing. Now I suddenly felt him, and thought I heard him reminding me. I grabbed the camera and shot two photos, one of his entire bed with his body still in it, the other a little closer shot. I am looking at this private collection while I write. His head is on his space pillow. There is an astronaut flying by his head, with rockets and stars. His mouth is wide open. His eyes wide open, bright blue. Donna, an estate trustee, came into the room with scissors and envelopes, to cut his hair and give some to Rosemary, Zach, Vicki, herself, and me. She appeared to be nervously jovial as she cut locks of hair, explaining to Timothy what she was doing. Vicki had called the mortuary and filled out papers. Two suit-and-tied men came to claim his body… bringing a stretcher/cot on wheels down the psychedelically painted and mirrored hallway into his room. I helped the nurse prepare his body, and then the two men slid his body on the sheet on to the cot, gently, respectfully. We asked they not cover his face. They wheeled him to the front door. I announced his arrival. Everyone gave him a final standing ovation. Some of us went outside, watched his body being loaded into the dark van, then driven away until we could no longer see the tail lights. I stayed awake all night calling people. First, his friend, actress Susan Sarandon, who had even contributed to sending his ashes into space. And I spent that night answering calls. I went outside early to let the press, who filled the street, know the family would be out shortly. My hair and clothes filthy, teeth unbrushed, mascara rings under my eyes -- I had no intention of actually talking to the media. But one of the reporters recognised me as the one he had interviewed regarding the anti-space weapons movement and shouted, “Carol Rosin, what are YOU doing here!?” Suddenly, I was surrounded by cameras. I snapped into my professional role and made some statements I hoped would make the controversial Dr. Timothy Leary look good, and some general statements we had all agreed to say, like “He was surrounded by friends and family.” My quotes appeared on the front page of newspapers all over the world. Weeks later, Vicki, Donna, Zach and I met to fill four 7 gram vials (which, ironically, looked like cocaine bottles) with Timothy’s ashes for the launch. He wanted to finally be a space pioneer on this first official launch of ashes and had asked me to make that happen. Ten pounds of ashes, including little bone pieces in a plastic bag in a box in a blue velvet bag. We champagne-toasted Timothy as I scooped his ashes into four little bottles. At another casual gathering, friends came, including his granddaughter, to share the remaining ashes. We sat at Timothy’s white picnic table passing the bag until everybody got their pinch of him. The blackbirds which he loved miraculously appeared. The house-sitter that Jon and I had hired hiked to sprinkle a pinch of Timothy on Mt. Whitney. (Several people have now taken some of him to sprinkle in various special spots on the planet. ..and I still do it.) Everyone looked forward to the launch of his ashes on the rocket from Vandenberg to Spain to the Canary Islands… and finally from there into space. Though there were other funeral events for Timothy, sadly, not one of his friends or familyattended the amazing official launch of his ashes, or to the beautiful Celestis memorial ceremony for him, except me. Days before he died, Timothy again proposed marriage to me. I said, “Timothy, when you propose to me and to other women, don’t you mean that you LOVE and want to marry everybody?” He said, “You understand. You understand! Thank you. Thank you!” He was all about LOVE… and became more and more aware that this was who we ARE, especially at this end and new beginning. My saddest moment was when he whispered in my ear, “Carol, you know what the saddest part of all this is? That I don’t even have a wife!” This human being, beloved by millions, was so lonely. Timothy received 35,000 website messages the day he died, and 125,000 tried to get in. He received close to 10,000 loving e-mails during his last days. I hear that twenty five million turned on and awakened their consciousness, thanks to Timothy. And sometimes he spent all night long reading them out loud. The day before he died, I felt both honoured and daunted when he demanded that I design the words I thought he’d want to be printed on the vial containing his ashes when they were launched into space. Another reality shift. There were 25 spaces for his final message to us all. Staring into my eyes, he told me he loved me as he signed his approval of the words. In a whispery voice he read them out loud: PEACE LOVE LIGHT YOUMEONE up!
(\o/)(\o/)(\o/)(\o/)(\o/)(\o/)(\o/)
(\o/)(\o/)(\o/)(\o/)(\o/)(\o/)(\o/)(\o/)(\o/)(\o/)(\o/)(\o/)(\o/)(\o/)(\o/)(\o/)
Fraser, you were asking for a "coherent story"
that explains all facets of 911... try this one...T EX T J OC KE Y // TJ PHRASER (Fraser Clark) & THE MEDIA EVOLUTION MIXING THE TRACTS LIVE ON THE KEYBOARD @ A MEDIA-MEME RATE OF 160 IPP * * Ideas Per Paragraph TO SUBSCRIBE SOMEONE, WRITE I wanna get UP! TO fraser@parallel-youniversity.com TO UNSUBSCRIBE, HIT REPLY WITH REMOVE IN THE SUBJECT BOX (\o/)(\o/)(\o/)(\o/)(\o/)(\o/)(\o/) (\o/)(\o/)(\o/)(\o/)(\o/)(\o/)(\o/)(\o/)(\o/)(\o/)(\o/)(\o/)(\o/)(\o/)(\o/)(\o/) Cinnamon Twist, Los Angeles. 9/11
A
Coherent
Story Incorporating All The
Facts?
by Douglas Herman, USAF veteran and crime novelist.
Contrary to the official government report, the
9-11 attack resembles a clever yet diabolical plan, carried out
successfully by a few key government insiders and several dozen top
commandos. Let us call this group, simply for the sake of argument,
The Network.Their mission was fourfold. (1) Create an unforgettable terror event to be blamed on an Islamic group. >> spose they'd just planted explosives in the new york bdgs. and maybe a few more skyscrapers in other major cities? and/or a corner of the white house. would that NOT have made it 'unforgettable'? and a hundred times safer for them? (2) Create a series of spectacular catastrophes that symbolized an attack on America but which also served as diversions. (3) Create a multi-million dollar gold heist that would occur simultaneously to the terror events. (4) Create a network of draconian agencies and laws soon after the terror events that would curtail individual rights and create an atmosphere for endless imperial war. Not to mention, make any reinvestigation of 9-11 difficult or impossible. The 9-11 attack then resembles an ingenious diversion concealing a master plan. The 19 hijackers may have been actual Islamic agents, Israeli double agents, CIA assets--or peripheral components of The Network. The hijackers are the least important aspect of the plot. According to this scenario, The Network would need remote control planes, aircraft that resembled Boeing jumbo jets. Plenty of planes - available cheap - -now gather dust in the deserts of California and Arizona. They would need the technology to adapt planes. (Remote control airplanes have been around for more than 40 years) They would need a sufficient amount of money - large amounts of money - to hire commandos. Both the money and the expertise were readily available through top Pentagon connections and their network of suppliers. Not surprisingly, the man who controlled the money at the Pentagon, Dov Zakheim, also enjoyed connections to an electronics firm specializing in remote control aviation. The Network would need several dozen, top foreign commandos who swore no allegiance to any country, certainly not allegiance to America. Approximately 200 Israelis were rounded up immediately following 9-11. Some were stopped in vans driving into Manhattan. >> INTO Manhattan? Some were arrested while celebrating the destruction of the Twin Towers. Some were stopped and discovered to possess evidence remarkably similar to that connected to the 9-11 attack. These facts were all reported by the mainstream media immediately after 9-11. Rarely have they been reported since. >> as stated elsewhere, all governments, and especially one as arrogant, stupid and ugly as this one, will send out masses of publicity to make them look like they’re onto something, they have the culprits under surveillance or arrest and so on and on. The FBI interviewed and interrogated those arrested near Manhattan. No lie detector tests, no confessions (and no torture) and no results were reported by the FBI before the suspects were released. "The Terror Enigma," by Justin Raimondo, takes a more in depth look at this suspicious feature, of possibly using Israeli double agents and Mossad commandos masquerading as movers, artists, and students. Prior to 9-11, these "artists" had been trying to infiltrate secure government facilities and buildings. Quite likely they were part of The Network. >> way too many unproved insinuations. Several men would be needed to assemble and plant explosive devices in the weeks and perhaps months required to do the job properly. According to one Finnish demo expert: "Ordering, preparing and transportation of the charges for the demolition of the WTC. Solely for the steel pillars of the outer circle 40 x 240 charges were needed, let's say 10 000 cutting charges each weighing 50 lbs for each tower. For WTC 7 at least 4000 charges were needed... 1) One needs to find out the right size and dimensions of suitable cutting charges and then order 24 000 pieces. One must as well order fitting detonators (detonators were needed a lot more). Fitting detonators usually already exist in stores of military forces (or the CIA). Time of delivery is several months in any case. All detonators must be equipped with some kind of safety mechanism, which will be removed by a radio signal at the final moment." "After this, the cutting charges are installed in the selected rooms that are not in use. Some of these rooms may as well serve as temporary storages for charges needed elsewhere. After this the apartment is renovated and circulated to the clients in the WTC. One man continuously assembles maybe 5 cutting charges per hour. With 10 assemblers 350 charges are installed a day. As surplus transportations of supplies, renovators and guards. Maybe about 20 people more were needed (5 of them know what is going on, 15 do not). >> but they sure as hell knew on the 11th! how many of them have come forward? For the installation of the charges this operation takes at least four months with 30 men." Not ten thousand men, not even one thousand. Just dedicated men who knew the importance of their mission. >> but u also got to add the guys who carried away the several hundred million in gold bullion bars described below. as he says: “how many men were needed for this? You do the math.” no, you do the math it’s your theory. Probably not thousands of men; probably not even hundreds. >> so let’s say 100 MINIMUM, maybe 200? now we have 20 top officials + 50 top commandos + 20 for transportation, renovators and guards. that’s a MINIMUM 200 people, maybe 300 according to you, some in the know on the 10th and the majority damn sure on the 11th . many come forward yet? say in Russia or China or Cuba or Venezuela or somewhere safe? The Network would need top aviation and electronic specialists to control those jumbo jets while in flight. >> we just broke the MINIMUM 200 barrier, maybe 300 :) Remote signal device may have been planted in the buildings also. A couple dozen men at most were needed - probably less - certainly not thousands. They would need men sworn to no other ideology, aside from the mission and the immediate rewards. Very likely those involved enjoyed vast intelligence capabilities. Very likely they included former or active members of the Mossad, the CIA, the Pentagon, possibly even the FBI. Indeed those FBI crime fighters NOT privy to the master plan - like FBI Special agents John O'Neill or Coleen Rowley - tried to warn their superiors, tried to warn the US government, but were thwarted. >> again, were they thwarted or ignored because their superiors were obsessed with their drug wars etc? Instead The Network operated like a separate entity, a succubus. And no local law enforcement official, no ordinary military official, no ordinary government official, enjoyed access to the secret plan. >> but how many must have woken up to it on the 11th ? But somewhere along the way three key security points were compromised. Logan airport, NORAD and WTC-7. The Network accessed all 3 sites and gained entrance through insider connections. Logan airport through the Israeli security company that ran it; NORAD & the command of the US Air Force to Dick Cheney on 9-11; WTC-7 through the CIA, Silverstein Properties or Securacom, the company headed by Marvin Bush. Not surprisingly, only a few top operatives were needed to access each site. Not tens of thousands, as debunkers constantly claim. Perhaps not even hundreds, but a few dozen, highly-trained men performed their tasks to perfection, in the weeks before 9-11. >> approaching 300 MINIMUM, maybe 400. and again i ask: would blowing up the 3 towers not have been enough to cause a war? why take all these extra risks? Could Al Qaeda - or the 19 hijackers - have compromised any of the 3 key points and gained access? No. Could a group of top government insiders and their hired commandos have accessed those 3 sites? Yes, easily. The Network might have relied on remote-controlled planes from the very beginning. Why trust a complex operation to 19 flight school dropouts who spent more time in strip clubs than flight simulators? The simplest scenario would use remote controlled planes, shadowed by fast-moving guidance planes. The unidentified white plane reported by several witnesses near Shanksville may have been such a plane. But what happened to the original flights and the missing passengers? Only the shadowy operatives of the Network know for sure. What remains most peculiar, and thus most suspicious, are the 4 flights themselves. Not only were the planes mostly empty of passengers, but a couple of the planes - reported destroyed on 9-11- were still registered and flying months later! >> WHAT?! COME AGAIN! if there’s any truth in this it counts AGAINST a conspiracy. unless it was a bunch or morons which is stretching credulity too far. Yes, there were flaws in the master plan. The WTC-7 fires that were very likely set by a commando team sometime after 12 noon on September 11th, convinced many gullible citizens and government experts that a fiery conflagration had weakened the structure. Yet the simple fact that WTC-7 was arsoned and then demolished seems obvious. Building 7 had to be burned and then collapsed in a controlled demolition, not only for diversionary purposes, but to destroy sensitive Security & Exchange records of ongoing lawsuits involving billions of dollars. Not surprisingly the floors that housed the SEC records were the first to burn mysteriously. >> a 5th mission then? Meanwhile, down below street level, a heist worthy of Hollywood was taking place. How many men were needed to move several hundred million in gold bullion bars? You do the math. Probably not thousands of men; probably not even hundreds. >> call it 100 then. so we’re at 400 MINIMUM, maybe 500. The company security guards may have been ordered away - after all, building 7 was about to collapse. Power to the alarm system may have been shut down. Who would restore it, even if some honest security guard reported it disabled? So, was 9-11 a heist wrapped around an attack, or an attack wrapped around a heist? If the gold was gone, how much went missing exactly? How could Al Qaeda have taken it? How embarrassing for New York City or US government officials to even admit some millions in gold were taken, for many citizens might logically conclude 9-11 was an inside job. And if a group of thieves not affiliated or connected to the "terrorists" took the gold, why were they never caught? >> come on. Two truckloads of gold were recovered, crushed in a tunnel, beneath the WTC complex. How many truckloads got away? Nowadays we have many excellent detective shows on television but very few good detectives when we really need them. If the WTC site had been treated as a crime scene immediately following a week of rescue work, the ingenuity of the crime might have been revealed. As it was, 9-11 was sold to the public as an act of foreign terrorism from day one and whatever evidence that might have been uncovered was hastily removed and either destroyed or recycled. The years pass and The Crime of The Century - 9-11 - has never been fully solved nor even adequately investigated. Readers email me asking what proof I have of this scenario. Only gut instinct and common sense. If it looks like a crime scene and people profited immensely, I think any good detective might also have suspicions. I ask believers what proof they have of the government version of 9-11 events. They quote me the testimony of government approved experts. They offer me a fuzzy videotape of someone identified as Osama bin Laden. They mention a charred passport miraculously found a few blocks from the demolished WTC. Not enough evidence to fit in a shoebox or stand up in a court of law. Besides, taking the word of a bad government, never known for speaking the truth, is not good practice. http://rense.com/general73/ow.htm up! Pronoia
Tour 1994
The ZIPPY PRONOIA
TOUR TO US in 1994 hosted an event at a
night club on Divisadero Street in San Francisco, an inspirational
gathering of
Zippy folks.
Fraser Clark and friends on the Zippy Tour took over the club and provided the content. They were broadcasting VIDEO on the Internet in one of the first demonstrations of this revolutionary technology. The World Wide Web was still young. A VJ (Stefan) was demonstrating mixing video with a Fairlight CV computer instrument and Amiga Toaster technology. Peter H. Rosen attended his first Zippy RAVE event and discovered many new tools for self expression, mentors and affiliates; who became part of the planning team for a CreativityCafe New School for the New Millennium as produced at the Multimedia Expo trade show. Their Creativity Cafe installation for Multimedia Expo at Moscone Hall in SF, provided hands on mentoring by artists using technology for humanity. The multimedia stage and hands on mentor/creation station Edutainment Center was deemed best experience of the show thanks to Rosen's long DEDICATION TO HIS VISION, exposure to the Zippies practicing PRONOIA and the help of 20 artists and supporter who in six weeks, to his concepts, added their own and made magic happen. You can watch a video snip of Creativity Cafe's installation in Peter's bio video: http://tinyurl.com/5bc9p Fraser spoke of PRONOIA and captured in one word, the spirit of Rosen's vision of a place (i.e. Creativity Cafe) where people who want to make a difference in each others lives and our world, can hang out, collaborate, gain access to technology and mentors, and meet the ingredients to help with mounting their success (whatever that means to them). One of the Zippy troupe teamed with Peter Rosen to produce the very first [KidCast for Peace]; Solutions for a Better World teleactivity (which enjoyed eleven years as an Earth Day Peace Portal) and interactive edutainment at the Children's Discovery Museum. Rosen and company were asked by producers of Children's World Peace Festival to do a "Creativity Cafe" installation. Rosen conceived of a "KidCast " for Peace to enable the world's first broadcast of "children waging peace," using video conferencing on the Net - thanks to his experience of the Zippies. That Pronoia Tour had great influence and profound effects on all those whose lives were changed forever - by exposing people to new ideas and new technology. Such a venue, designed for providing innovative edutainments in tune with the (rapidly changing) times, are having profound affects on how we perceive "reality ," and could hasten evolution in positive ways. http://twiki.org/cgi-bin/view/Sandbox/CreativityCafe up! The Death Of
George Gurdjieff
His departure was typical.The ambulance men brought the stretcher to his room, but he wouldn't have this, and walked out into the hall and got on to the stretcher there, sitting back, saying, "Oy!" as he always does. He did not dress, but wore pyjamas, and his red fez on his head. He sat upright on the stretcher, and was carried away like a royal prince! All the family was clustered at the street door (the crusty old concierge was in tears!) and as they carried him across the pavement he made a little gesture, a sort of wave, with his hand and said, "Au revoir, tout le monde!" The last sight of him was as he was carried into the ambulance, sitting very upright, with his head up, his fez at a rakish angle and his cigarette between his lips. J. G. Bennett, Idiots in Paris. On the night of Wednesday 26 October 1949 Gurdjieff arrived at the American Hospital at Neuilly and entered the private room on the first floor which he was not destined to leave alive. The treatment was successful but the patient died: this basically is the sequel. And no one was to blame. (The disbelieving hospital pathologist would later find every organ in Gurdjieff’s body wasted down to a minimal function) He arrived dropsical. Early in the morning Dr Welch performed a puncture and drainage, while his patient predictably wearing his fez and cloaked in a rich camelhair coat manoeuvred a cup of hot black coffee and a wooden cigarette holder. Even in this dangerous and surreal extremity, G appeared entirely master of the situation: “Only if you not tired, Doctor” he said to Welch with indulgent irony. Yet as Thursday dragged on, the old man sank under a welter of intrusive tests and irritating palliatives. By midday he could barely recognise his family. In the afternoon he delivered his final instructions to Jeanne de Salzmann slowly, painfully: “The essential thing, the first thing, is to prepare a nucleus of people capable of responding to the demand which will arise... So long as there is no responsible nucleus, the action of the ideas will not go beyond a certain threshold. That will take time... a lot of time, even.” These are his last recorded words. George Ivanovitch Gurdjieff died in the American Hospital at Neuilly at approximately 10/30 on the morning of Saturday 29th October 1949. James Moore, Gurdjieff, The Anatomy of a Myth, up! Borat
:
Cultural Learnings of America
for Make Benefit Glorious Nation of Kazakhstan Peter Bradshaw, The
Guardian
Talent is luck, they say, and right about now, no
comedian has more of either than Sacha Baron Cohen. The taxpayers
from the sovereign state of
Kazakhstan
have been lavishly subsidising the publicity
for Baron Cohen's new movie with fury-filled full-page government ads in
the New York
Times, a personal complaint from the
Kazakh president to Mr George W Bush, followed by a belated and
half-hearted official invitation to Baron Cohen to come visit. Borat is the hero of this extraordinary mocu-reality adventure: a film so funny, so breathtakingly offensive, so suicidally discourteous, that strictly speaking it shouldn't be legal at all. He is the naive provincial TV reporter supposedly from Kazakhstan, though it is clear that this "Kazakhstan" is a joke cardboard country, a post-Soviet neverland picked at random, as cheerfully as Robert De Niro and Dustin Hoffman, the spin doctors in the political satire Wag The Dog, once picked "Albania " for their diversionary hoax war. Reportedly, Baron Cohen was actually inspired to create Borat by his youthful travels as a student in the then Soviet republic of Georgia. Borat is immeasurably funny. Our hero leaves his dirt-poor Kazakh village, and travels to New York with a cameraman and his obese and unreliable producer to make a documentary for state TV. He experiences an epiphany there in his budget hotel-room, whose opulence has already reduced him to tears of incredulous joy. Watching a re-rerun of Baywatch , he falls in love with Pamela Anderson and journeys across the United States to Los Angeles, where he dreams of subjecting her to the Kazakh forcible-marriage ceremony, whose legality he believes will be just as valid in America as at home. Grinning nervously, unable to comprehend anything of what he sees or hears, Borat is an innocent of the guiltiest sort: he is boorish, he is grotesquely misogynist, he is crass. Above all he is an anti-semite, and for cinemagoers who have become used to the unwritten convention that anti-semitism is not represented on screen other than in the period garb of Nazi Germany, it is almost a physical shock to feel the swipe of Borat's contemporary bigotry. The last time I experienced this was listening to Terry Jones's sentimental cleaning-lady in Monty Python's The Meaning Of Life in 1983: "I feel that life's a game, you sometimes win or lose/And though I may be down right now, at least I don't work for Jews." But this really is something else. One of the first sequences is Borat introducing a TV clip showing one of his community's oldest folk traditions: the Running of the Jew. It is quite incredible, and conceived on an epic scale to rival the chariot race from Ben-Hur . Obviously, Sacha Baron Cohen is himself Jewish and perhaps we should here quickly rehearse the saloon-bar truisms: only Jewish people are allowed to tell Jewish jokes, if these comedians wanted to be dangerous why don't they take on Islam - yes, yes, quite ... but is Sacha Baron Cohen really allowed to do this? Is anyone? It is a sensational provocation, a 19th-century anti-semitic cartoon gigantically reborn in the 21st century. in which anti-semitism is alive and well all over the world. in places where they have incidentally never heard of the liberal West's carefully nurtured distinction between anti-semitism and anti-Zionism. It goes beyond satire into pure anarchy, pure craziness. And it's also very funny. From the way it is shot, some of Borat's encounters could be staged. I certainly hope that Pamela Anderson's final encounter with Borat happened with her connivance. But the best moments, and that's pretty much all of them, have the unmistakable look of real people really being astonished and horrified by Borat. He hits a comic goldmine simply by going up to male New Yorkers on the streets and trying to kiss them on both cheeks. One screams abuse; another skips away, zig-zagging, hunching his shoulders and flapping his arms at the elbow like a 10-year-old evading a wasp. It is sublime. Baron Cohen really shows his class when Borat is a guest at a Texan rodeo. He fearlessly strides into the centre of the ring with his mic, loudly praises his hosts' "War of Terror", leads wild cheering when he expresses the hope that Iraq is bombed so that even the lizards are killed, but then with magnificent effrontery allows his audience to suspect they've been duped by singing a transparently absurd "Kazakh national anthem" about potassium production to the tune of The Star-Spangled Banner. The sheer miasma of wrongness and unease that washes over the crowd causes a young cowgirl demonstrating horse-riding techniques to lose her concentration and fall off her horse at the end of Borat's song: a brilliantly surreal moment. The fascination of Borat' s comedy situationism, his theatre of cruelty, is that its hero is deeply unsympathetic. Ali G had a kind of goofy charm, but Borat is just so horrible, with a deplorable quality mitigated only by his ineffectuality. Borat 2 must surely now be in the works: perhaps a face-off with a rival TV star from the hated neighbouring republic of Uzbekistan? (Will Ferrell? Jonathan Pryce? Stephen Merchant?) Like Freddy Krueger, that living nightmare on bad taste street, Borat will surely be back. Fools don't come unholier than this. up! lov from bioneers in sf area.
a l l g o o d
t h i n g s c o m e t o a n e n dwill be in london to co-create with you & community in summer of 07 musically yours, fantuzzi. which don't justify nuttin'
|