This Blog is on Drugs
This blog is great when you’re high! LOOK:






Take drugs! Be like Richard Widmark!
Actually, while the flu medication I’m taking “may cause drowsiness”, the hallucinatory feeling I have is probably more due to the illness itself, whatever it is. So, ringing in the ears, sweating and shivering, and a curious heightened awareness, or do I mean UNawareness?
“Everything is strange.”
Dragged myself into work and on the bus back, played odd tunes on my Nano, with the result that the world fell into musical step: Nino Rota’s “Carlotta’s Gallop” from EIGHT AND A HALF caused the whole of Princes Street to move at 16fps, jerky silent movie people all enacting a Jacques Tati pantomime of exaggerated body language in perfect time to the music. As I moved my focus from one person to another they all seemed to snap into character and walk, talk, gesture or even SMOKE to the beat.
As the bus Trumbulled into deepest Leith (TRAINSPOTTING country) the music slowed and so did the people, too unhealthy to actually display actual animation, but the synchronisation remained perfect. I tried looking at my fellow passengers to see if they were also part of this inner movie, but that was just HORRIBLE. Too close!
I’m very very amused by the idea of both Fellini and Otto Preminger taking L.S.D. under controlled laboratory conditions, with teams of medicos on hand to monitor their progress through the doors of perception and presumably somehow prevent their consciousnesses from expanding TOO FAR, until their heads exploded like the guy in SCANNERS, and with tape machines whirring to record all the marvellous psychedelic insights that poured from their blubbering mouths. Fellini, at any rate, recorded his psychotropic experience, but never listened to the tapes. But I think it’s fair to say the experience did have some impact on his work.
Roger Corman took a more informal approach, tripping with friends at Big Sur.
‘I spent the next seven hours face down in the ground, beneath a tree, not moving, absorbed in the most wonderful trip imaginable. Among other things, I was sure I had invented an utterly new art form. This new art form was the very act of thinking and creating, and you didn’t need books or film or music to communicate it; anyone who wanted to experience it would simply lie face down on the ground anywhere in the world at that moment and the work of art would be transmitted through the earth from the mind of its creator directly into the mind of the audience. To this day, I’d like to think this could work and it would be wonderful. I think of all the costs you could cut in production and distribution alone.’
That last sentence may be the most delightfully, touchingly square thing anybody ever said about the L.S.D. experience. And while THE TRIP, which Corman was researching, uses a lot of pseudo-psychedelic movie cliches and doesn’t feel researched AT ALL, Corman’s vision of drug art directly inspires a dialogue scene in his later GAS-S-S-S, OR, IT BECAME NECESSARY TO DESTROY THE WORLD IN ORDER TO SAVE IT, where the hero proposes that movies should be produced quite literally IN CAPSULE FORM:
‘Are you saying that some drug dealers are going to become movie producers?’
‘I’m saying that some of our motion picture studios are going to become drug pushers.”
February 20, 2008 at 6:53 pm
Paddy Chaevsky may have hated what Ken Russell did with Altered Sattes, but I loved it. John Corigliano’s score is magnificent, and as marital problem films go it beats the hell out of Kramer vs. Kramer.
The late great Dorothy Dean told me that Paddy was quite bonkers at the time he wrote it and got the idea from all the hydrotherapy sessions his doctors had ordered (cut to Oscar Levant singing “Mother” in hydrotherapy in Minnelli’s The Cobweb — which starred Richard Widmark.)
Preminger’s acid flick was of course the incomparable Skidoo My boyfriend Bill was living in John Phillip Law’s basement at the time of the shooting (it was the 60’s, don’t ask!) and said every day a big bus would come and scoop the cast up to take them to the set. Donayele Luna was living at the Law’s and Bill observed her one day chatting away with Nico — both of them in the full bloom of their “Mittel-Martian accents.”
Law was going with Barbara Parkins at the time, and Bill says the sight of the two of them walking through th garden in their underwear was breathtaking beyond belife.
And to top it all off, Bill had a classic 60’s Bad Acid Trip one evening — and Barbara Parkins talked him down from it!
Now if that isn’t the Ultimate 60’s Experience I don’t know what is!
Fellini, needless to say, didn’t really need to drop acid. But he did, and the results were Fellini Satyricaon — featuring Donayele Luna.
For those of you playing our game at home that’s “One Degree of Otto Preminger.”
February 20, 2008 at 6:57 pm
oh you have the flu or something? Can I have it?! -I am still getting paid sickdays!
Sounds bad though, but then you are still blogging, -but you will also still be blogging when you’re dead, won’t you?
Anyway, take care!
February 20, 2008 at 8:10 pm
Wow Bob wow!
Must watch some more Otto soon. Shall be getting a copy of TCM’s broadcast of Skidoo, even though it’s a pan-and-scan (I presume the negative is in limbo somewhere).
Hope to see you soon Kris, I appear to be getting better instead of worse at the moment.
February 20, 2008 at 8:21 pm
I literally just read this blog entry after watching Camus’ BLACK ORPHEUS and you’re bombarding me with MORE colour, jeez.
February 20, 2008 at 10:50 pm
Well, hopefully you recorded Jarman’s Blue last night, that might be just the thing for you.
February 21, 2008 at 12:35 am
Did it twice, I did. That acid. E notwithstanding. I’ll recount the first only - the microdot. I was promised cash - on top of dole - would’ve been nice. Got the dot instead. Payment for a hard night’s work projecting cut-up S8 movie loops on multiple projectors at a popular south coast seaside resort nightclub. About 6 months later, down it went, with a mate, Nigel, half and half each, dissolved in a shot glass. Later, a night time mini-sickle of stars, horrors of war, the blandness of tea, blanched faces, crickets under the fridge, lost time … and towards dawn, down the beach, fit, white, tanned joggers in clean cotton - and then a resolve to GET FIT. Not before crashing onto the beach, height of summer, passing out, severely FRAZZLED, peeling skin for days, now looking forward to melanoma in dotage. Two weeks I jogged - mad distances - cold baths thereafter - salads - no booze. A dangerous drug. Don’t do it kids.
February 21, 2008 at 11:38 am
Nobody ever warns of the risks of sunburn attendant upon psychedelic experiences, so thanks for that.
Also, our psychiatric hospitals are full to overflowing with cases of what could be termed self-inflicted insanity. It’s a harsh punishment for folks who were just trying to enjoy themselves or escape from burdensome realities, but it’s a very real risk. Our brain chemistry is our tenuous link from ourselves to the universe — and from ourselves to our selves.
That’s why I prefer to rely on the occasional fever for my altered states of consciousness.
March 6, 2008 at 6:42 pm
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