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Xmas in Hell (aka You Tube) December 13, 2007

Posted by The Typist in Bloggers, cryptical envelopment, Dancing Bear, Debrisville, New Orelans, New Orleans, NOLA, parody, Xmas.
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I didn’t want to have to do this. They made me do it. It’s all their fault.

There, you’ve gone and ruined Xmas for all the little kiddies. I hope you’re satisfied.

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The other side December 1, 2007

Posted by The Typist in cryptical envelopment, Dancing Bear, Doors, Jazz Vipers, jim morrison, Toulouse Street.
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Somewhere on the other side of the first set of the Jazz Vipers on Friday night is The Other Side. Once I knew the way there, the road to dawn, but now I’m just an observer. I see my self 20 or 30 years ago passing in front of me on my way to the bathroom or the fresh air outside. I wonder when I lost the key to that door.

Once I knew the way:

‘Twilight is the door between worlds.’
Who spoke those words?
I knew this once.
Now all my lore’s forgotten,
the incantations hidden in a pile of bills,
among the undone lists of mundane tasks,
the litter of responsibility.

Perhaps when I am old enough to not care anymore I will recover the secret key. Until then, I will be that old man in the corner who rejoices vicariously in dance of the young. Someday, I will remember how to break on through.

Tootie’s Last Suit April 28, 2007

Posted by The Typist in Carnival, Dancing Bear, Flood, Mardi Gras, Mardi Gras Indians, Mid-City, New Orleans, NOLA, We Are Not OK.
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I so want to see this movie.

The feature-length documentary, TOOTIE’S LAST SUIT explores the complex relationships, rituals, history, and music of New Orleans’ vibrant Mardi Gras Indian culture while telling the story of Allison “Tootie” Montana, former Chief of Yellow Pocahontas Hunters. Celebrated throughout the New Orleans as “the prettiest,” for the beauty and inventiveness of his elaborately beaded Mardi Gras costumes, Tootie Montana masked for 52 years, longer than any other Mardi Gras Indian…

In the aftermath of It All, I had completely forgotten about the St. Joseph’s Night attack of the NOPD on the Indians, and Tootie’s death while testifying to the City Council about it. This sounds like a film that should be run until the print gives out in New Orleans. At the same time, given all the city’s troubles, I hope that this culture does not vanish into the camera’s lense.

The end of the world April 21, 2007

Posted by The Typist in Corps of Engineers, Dancing Bear, Debrisville, Flood, home, Katrina, Mid-City, New Orleans, NOLA, Toulouse Street.
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“This is the end, beautiful friend, the end.”
–Jim Morrison
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World’s End Marina, 2006
At world’s end, I want to be among friends. If we can’t save New Orrleans, the so-called developed world is at its end. I am in the right place at the wrong time, and I can’t imagine being anywhere else.

There is only one disease and I am it’s catalyst April 21, 2007

Posted by The Typist in Dancing Bear, Hell, Hurricane Katrina, jim morrison, New Orleans, Toulouse Street.
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cried doomed pride of the carrier.

Fighting, dancing, gambling,
bars, cinemas
thrive in the avid summer.

Mr. & Mrs. Groovy Go To The Sleaze Ball February 11, 2007

Posted by The Typist in Carnival, Dancing Bear, Mardi Gras, New Orleans, NOLA, Odds&Sods, Uptown.
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Mr. and Mrs. Groovy go to the Sleaze Ball

Here we are before we set out to the fabulous annual Sleaze Ball, hosted this year by John Steed and Emma Peel at the Uptown digs of Tommy M. and Sue P. Rebecca looks much more like a spy than I do, in keeping with this year’s theme of Spy v. Spy. I set out to find a jacket for to make myself into No. 6 from The Prisoner (Be Seeing You), but found the iridescent-beetle colored coat and mod wig instead. The coat was a prefect fit, and was clearly meant to be. I’m just a goovy extra from the golden era of spy films. Just drop Its All Too Much into the player on repeat mode, and I’m ready.

Cryptic Envelopment November 17, 2006

Posted by The Typist in Dancing Bear, Grateful Dead, New Orleans, NOLA, Toulouse Street.
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A guest post by Dancing Bear on the Tarot Card meme….

I am Skullf**k.

In the spirit of the Tarot Card quiz meme, I reveal my card: Skullfuck, the 13 card from the hermetic deck of the Mystic Brotherhood of Swiss Alchemists.

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The card is best known as the cover of the Grateful Dead’s 1971 album. Bassist Phil Lesh actually suggested to Warner Brothers executives the LP be named Skullfuck. They were so taken aback they apparently didn’t even hear guitarist Jerry Garcia’s more reasonable suggestion of Skull and Roses. Intead, the record would simply be known to the lawyers and accounts as Grateful Dead, and as Skullfuck to us. The record would join that pantheon of magnificent recordings of the early 1970s that includes Abbey Road, Sticky Fingers, Dark Side of the Moon, the Dead’s American Beauty–need I really go on? The great secret of late 60s music is that some of the finest examples of the artists of the period were released in the very early 70s.

To hear this record is to understand the attributes of the card.

I owned this record both in vinyl and on an 8-track, the latter essential to carrying it along anywhere we might go. “Not Fade Away/Goin’ Down The Road (Feelin’ Bad)” more than once blasted at volumes that rattled windows from accross the bayou as we tore down Wisner Avenue through the early morning ground fog at faster than the speed of blue lights, the shade of Cowboy Neal grinning in my rearview mirror as the guy who would later in fact be my attorney–in spite of his profound racial handicap of a Scots backround–might begin to pour beer all over the floor of my car to extinguish a glowing roach.

“Playing in the Band” is a slow tempo song of such swing and power that to hear it even today is to reExperience the formulaic anomoly we called Captain Invincible, something like the milk drinks which Alex and his droogies swilled in the Korova but which in the halcyon days of nineteen seventy something gave one the more innocent feel of Tom Bombadil striding through a mystic forest with a basket full of tasty mushrooms on his way to get laid. Listen, and you don’t just hear the lyrics but actually stand in a tower, world at your command, as yellow sunshine spreads across the edge of the purple night.

And “The Other One”, a live version of the second part of the longer “That’s It For The Other One” subtitled “The Faster We Go the Rounder We Get” on Anthem of the Sun, is an extended free-form jam, one of those cyptically enveloping extended sessions that begins with a long, primal drum solo and erupts into the sacred spontenaity that entered into the cosmos in those days, sweeping away the Deadheads along with the dumbstruck fans of jazz who suddenly were confronted by Miles Davis’ Bitches Brew and Sun Ra. It is this song out of the entire double LP which perhaps best expresses the milieu of the Ancient Mystic Brotherhood of Swiss Alchemists, and speaks to the implications of this card.

Spanish lady come to me, she lays on me this rose.
It rainbow spirals round and round,
It trembles and explodes
It left a smoking crater of my mind,
I like to blow away.
But the heat came round and busted me
For smilin on a cloudy day

[Chorus]

Comin’, comin’, comin’ around, comin’ around, comin’ around in a circle
Comin’, comin’, comin’ around, comin’ around, in a circle,
Comin’, comin’, comin’ around, comin’ around, in a circle.

Escapin’ through the lily fields
I came across an empty space
It trembled and exploded
Left a bus stop in its place
The bus came by and I got on
That’s when it all began
There was cowboy Neal
At the wheel
Of a bus to never-ever land

[Chorus]

We are all Bozos on this bus…

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For meme’s sake, yes I took the quiz. I was amazed (but not surprised) to draw this card;

You are The Fool

The Fool is the card of infinite possibilities. The bag on the staff indicates that he has all he need to do or be anything he wants, he has only to stop and unpack. He is on his way to a brand new beginning. But the card carries a little bark of warning as well. Stop daydreaming and fantasising and watch your step, lest you fall and end up looking the fool.

What Tarot Card are You?
Take the Test to Find Out.