Tuesday, September 23, 2008

I hope the Equinox finds you well

In the UK - after the worst ever summer (except for Chris M, and others who don't like heat) we have had a burst of warmth and sunlight (even if the sun goes down early).

Locals call it an 'Indian Summer' - a phrase that probably dates back to the British Empire (Raj) - but we might have to accept that you don't need to live so close to the equator any more...

Anyway - the Equinox arrived again, and again we don't have an online magazine to show you.


We missed it in the summer, but had found ourselves working on producing a hard copy version of the magazine...now we missed the Fall Equinox...and we don't have Kent with us any more to remind us of the importance of ritual. Fair forward traveller! (Kent edited the first few editions, but gave up his battle with his bodymind recently).

I keep getting encouragement to move myself and migrate to using the Only Maybe integrated into the Maybe Logic Academy. I like the idea, but feel too busy to learn to use Mojoblog, something devised by one person - when Blogger has served so well as a provider.

I have too many new things to learn right now. One day, maybe.

Anyway, here's the Autumn Equinox in the UK (Silbury Hill) as imagined by Ric Kemp over at Knowth.com (used without permission - so go visit and see the other seven paintings, why not?)

Wednesday, September 03, 2008

Pang yourself to the infinitude of absolute mind

OK, here’s my current list:
Writing
Scripts (clues at least, to finding some)
Looking on AbeBooks I could see Skungpoomery, School for Clowns, Old King Cole, the Bald Trilogy (Recollections of a Furtive Nudist, Pigspurt and Jamais Vu) – those sometimes sold separately - Violin Time or The Lady From Montsegur.
Visual recordings

DVDs of performance from Merifela
YouTube clips of Ken at the RAW Memorial Event




Audio recordings

Official site Audio CDs available

DeepLeaf’s Illuminatus!
(Listening to Ken reading the Appendices as I type)

A radio clip talking about Beadle’s library

An excerpt from Jeff Merrifield's thesis (mentioned in the Beadle clip)
Illuminatus! Amazing adventures in putting Science Fiction on the stage
History of Comedy, Part One: Ventriloquism

History of Comedy - Part One: Ventriloquism article in The Guardian

And finally, a quote from an interview with Ken three years ago, which you can find in the Guardian archive:

Not content with itemising his autobiography on stage, Campbell is currently engaged in teaching Doris the parrot her own. So far, he says, she can say, "'I used to be an egg and then I hatched out, didn't I? All fluffy at first, then the feathers' ... she's working on the next bit now." Sometimes, though, Doris comes out with unexpected bits of her own, such as "I'm up 'ere, you're down there ... shall I do my silly noises? I think I will ... whoops!" And as her limited repertoire also includes a formidable impression of the telephone, Campbell can't answer it for a while whenever it rings "because it's probably only her. She does three rings, then says "Ello!' like me. Parrots live for ever and she's nowhere near 10 yet, so she'll live way after me. At least I know my voice will carry on for a bit after I'm gone: 'I'm up 'ere, you're down there!' "

KC with Doris
'I'm up 'ere, you're down there!'

Tuesday, September 02, 2008

Ken Campbell has left the theatre

Very sad news that Ken died suddenly (and unexpectedly) on Sunday August 31st, at the age of 66. He had performed in Edinburgh only a few days before.

You can find obituaries from the British Press online, which I may collate for you later - but you can handle Google, right?

In my initial scan this morning I found reference to a DVD set that Jack Phoenix made, of The Meaning Of Life: A Letter To Robert Anton Wilson. Anyone who hadn't seen Ken live (especially in his solo shows) missed something really extraordinary. I have literally dragged friends out, and got them to drive cross-country to see him working.

I haven't manage to contact Jack Phoenix yet, but found a couple of clips on YouTube...


He could reduce me to tears of laughter, and although that sounds like a cliche in his case that proved literally true - I would become hysterical.
. . . . . Ken continues his search for the Holy Grail of Comedy, the state of mind in which EVERYTHING IS FUNNY . . . . . .

ken campbell's meaning of life: a letter to robert anton wilson . . . .

Ken and RAW . . . is it our mission in life to discover our adventure and pang ourselves off on it - or are we merely entertainment for deranged demi-gods, the butt of a joke of such cosmic proportions it may be necessary to travel through the Wall or on very personal orificular journeys in order to appreciate it? . . . . .

. . or is it dogs? . . . . .

"That there is a meaning to life can be peripherally sensed by being astounded and also by astounding others. And it may be fully glimpsed by astounding yourself" . . . . .

"the Gnostic thinking was that the Creator is a mad barmy deranged demiurge, and that everything which exists in our universe is evil, nasty, mucky and abhorrent . . . . whereas God Almighty they saw as gNothing . . or Eternal Ineffable Laughter . . hence the only really decent thing you could do with your life is to laugh or encourage laughter . . " - Ken Campbell . . .

. . . . . what links Jackie Chan, Anne of Green Gables and the 9/11 tragedy? . . . who is the mysterious Italian futurenaut Oberto Airaudi, and what is his mission on Earth . . . ? . .
whatever became of the Laughing Jesus? . . . Do you suspect you might be an arsehole? . . And what can you do about it if you are? . . . .


I like this interactive VR portrait of Ken at home....wonderful! Thanks to Jonathan Greet (some of you conspiracy types might enjoy his versions of Rosslyn Chapel, too!)

To-morrow, and to-morrow, and to-morrow,
Creeps in this petty pace from day to day,
To the last syllable of recorded time;
And all our yesterdays have lighted fools
The way to dusty death. Out, out, brief candle!
Life's but a walking shadow, a poor player
That struts and frets his hour upon the stage
And then is heard no more. It is a tale
Told by an idiot, full of sound and fury
Signifying nothing." — Macbeth (Act 5, Scene 5, lines 17-28)

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