Tim

Tim teaches psychology, English, and journalism in southern California. He grew up in community theater and has been writing freelance reviews of both professional and community theater on and off for 18 years. Tim has been the Publicity Chair for Orange Coast CUUPs (Covenant of Unitarian Universalist Pagans), and is now their "Blogger at Large." He is an initiate in and member of the Temple of Witchcraft.

New Stories: The Laramie Project- 10 Years Later

 culture, theater  3 Responses »
May 202013
 

“Somebody so small in stature sure made a huge difference in the whole dang world”

-Reggie Fluty

The deputy who found Matthew Shepard

                Nothing tells a story quite like the words of the real people who lived it.   The old saying that truth is stranger than fiction rings true when you take the words of real people, bounce them off one another, and weave a tapestry that presents a more complete picture of a given place at a given time.  Stories build character arcs, have climaxes, and come to resolutions.  Life doesn’t; it just moves on, and there are at least as many perceptions of any single event as there were people who witnessed it.

Matthew Shepard

 

This is the beauty of The Laramie Project.  In 1998, Matthew Shepard was tortured and murdered in the small town of Laramie, Wyoming.  The reason: Matthew was gay.  It was a horrifying scene that brought national attention to the small community, and the residents had to come to terms with their own identities, had to confront themselves with the uncomfortable reality that something about their way of life led to two of their own brutally murdering this poor young boy.  The Laramie Project is a play written from their own words, telling their story, and in many ways it helped the community heal its wounds.

But time marches on.  Ten years later, the group that wrote Laramie returned to see how the town had changed in the past decade.  They found a town that had grown economically, but, tragically, had infused lies and excuses into their healing process.  In The Laramie Project: 10 Years Later, we are confronted with the uncomfortable truth that, despite the notes of hope in the original play, Matthew’s death appears to have been in vain.

 

The problem is the power of story.  We learn that, at some point, the locals chose to make excuses as part of their healing process.  In classic style, it was much easier to blame the victim rather than confront the ugly truth about two of their own sons.  It was easier to accept that the two murderers were meth addicts, and that Matthew’s death was the unfortunate result of a drug deal gone bad, not homophobia at its brutal worst.  So if Matthew was a drug dealer, his murder becomes acceptable.  The fact there was no evidence to support such a claim makes no difference.

 

A large portion of the piece is devoted to the power of rumor and story.  The more a rumor spreads, the more the truth gets removed, until it becomes a piece of common knowledge, none of which is actually true.  And yet, in the perception of those who tell the story, it is true. It is their perception that matters.  The town, they say, has “moved on.”  They did so by forgetting the painful truth.

 

Yet, the power of story can be used for good.  This new sequel goes on to paint a picture of multiple human rights victories, all won partially because of the legacy of Matthew Shepard.  We see resolutions to define marriage as only between a man and a woman defeated because a conservative legislator invokes the name of Matthew Shepard.  We see hate crimes legislation passed, albeit after a long time, due to the sacrifice of Matthew Shepard.  We even see Russell Johnson, one of Matthew’s murderers accept responsibility and exhibit true contrition.  He, too, had to face ugly things about himself, but he did it bravely and truthfully.

 

Truth becomes myth and myth becomes truth.  This is something the Pagan community easily understands.  Mythology can help a community by giving it examples to emulate, or it can hurt a community by providing false excuses that take away personal responsibility for reprehensible actions.  Religion- any religion- is similar.  Johnson owned up to his actions, re-telling a more accurate story.  The people of Laramie, apparently, chose the other route.   But the story doesn’t end there.

 

I happened to see The Laramie Project: 10 Years Later on our local Gay Pride weekend.  The next day I watched the parade with a friend who had been coming for over 25 years.  He told stories about fighting the city for the right to parade, suing the police department to make them provide protection, and fighting the ever-present corral of protestors screaming about how far into Hell all of them were going.  Today, the parade is a huge community event, part of the fabric of the city.  The school board, local politicians, and the fire department all had prominent floats.  A variety of Christian churches march with the drag queens. The police department now offers full support.  They are a highlight of the parade, with cruisers from multiple decades blaring their sirens in support of the community.  The protestors are now one guy standing alone, holding a sign that makes no sense.

 

Matthew Shepard will never see it.  The people of Laramie may never see it.  But a new story is being written.  And the young man who was tied to a fence will always be one of the authors of this new story.

 

 

That Glee Episode With a School Shooting

 culture, tv  No Responses »
Apr 142013
 

Glee has a long history of confronting issues real high school students deal with.  It has been criticized for being “vapid” and “light and fluffy,” and it often is, but it tends to balance its more lighthearted nature with some real struggles that real kids go through every day.  The show has tackled teen pregnancy, bulimia, bullying, sexting, inclusion of the traditionally excluded, and coming out of th closet, among other issues.  The show uses song to deal with these tough issues, blunting the power of the blow just enough to let it sink in.

I’m a high school teacher in my real life, and so I see firsthand all of the storylines that Glee has introduced.  While the show caricatures the typical high school cliques, there is a truth to that hierarchy and to the problems the show confronts.  So when I heard that last week’s episode, titled “Shooting Star,” took on the issue of school shootings, I was intrigued.  When I heard the complaints that they had “gone too far,” I was not surprised.  But I wanted to see for myself.  I’ve worked at the same high school for 14 years and have been involved in the school system since the year of the Columbine shooting.  I have a pretty good perspective of what really goes on in the meat grinder we call “education.”

So did the episode go too far?  Yes, but not in the way that most people think it did.  I agree with most of Digital Spy’s assessment of the episode.  The first act of the episode was typical Glee: Brittany is obsessed with a fictional meteor that turns out to be a dead ladybug on her telescope.  The threat of the impending end of the world leads the Glee Club to work with the theme of “Last Chance,” and many plot points get advanced or resolved as Glee members sing songs to each other that express the things they have always wanted to say but have kept repressed.

  All good setup for what happens next.  With the theme of Last Chance carrying the episode, the club gets suddenly rocked by the threat of a shooter taking over the school.  The Digital Spy article criticizes the fact that everything goes as normal up to this point, but as a teacher that doesn’t bother me at all.  That is exactly the way it would be in real life.  School shootings come without warning; we come to work every day like it’s just another day.  We don’t expect something horrible to happen.  The shootings that have rocked our world lately- and, really, all the way back to Columbine – have been sudden incidents that no one saw coming.  If a shooting occurred on my campus, it would be the same way.  So I have no issue with that part of the episode.  It effectively portrayed the sudden emergency that would really happen if a shooter came on to any campus.

The scenes inside the choir room as the club hides from the shooter are effective and visceral.  The normal high school veneer is ripped off and students honestly admit their true feelings to a cell phone video camera.  In this sequence, the “Last Chance” theme of the episode becomes truly real, and the airs and affectations that govern most of high school life are torn away.  Kitty, Sam, Ryder, and the rest of the club put down their fronts and become real people, clearing the air between them in a way that would probably happen between real friends in a real school shooting.  Tragedy clears the pretensions, and the true selves of each club member meet each other for the first time.  Underneath all of their bluster, high school students are real people, and this scene is both compelling and true.

SPOILER ALERT

The problem I have with Shooting Star is not in the choice to include school violence as a topic.  Glee should be expected to do nothing less. My problem is the outcome of the violence.  The “shooter” was Becky, the Downs Syndrome student who has become a staple on the show.  Up until now, Becky has been a shining example of what could be.  Cheer coach and Glee antagonist Sue Sylvester has a soft spot for people who have Downs Syndrome, and her support over the seasons gave Becky a taste of popularity as she joined the Cheer squad and humanized Sue’s character.  In effect, Beck brought a real, human face to both Downs Syndrome and the “evil” Sue Sylvester, and stripped the cover from them just as surely as the shooting stripped it from the Glee Club students.  Becky was a central character, reminding us of the basic humanity of all of us, whether we are jocks, singers, cheerleaders, or misfits.

But Becky couldn’t imagine graduating and blazing a trail for herself in the real world.  She brought a gun to school.  It fired accidentally.  Sue takes the fall, and, in doing so, potentially eliminates her important character from the show.  Becky remains at McKinley High, although Sue hints to Will that she was the one responsible for all the mayhem.

This is where I think the show went too far.  Glee has spent many seasons glorifying the powerless.  We have seen Kurt grow from bullied gay boy to confident young man.  We have seen a group of misfits come into their own.  We have seen Becky embraced by the Cheer squad and, eventually, by the campus at large despite her Downs Syndrome.

Shooting Star fucked that up.

Now, Becky is the bad guy.  Now, those who live with Downs Syndrome are dangerous.  Yes, her reasons are real.  I have seen many seniors wish that May and June would not come; I’ve seen them cry real tears because of their fear of the world outside the bubble of high school.  But now Becky, and with her all Downs students, have been lumped into the category of “dangerous,” just like what happened to Gothic kids after Columbine.  When the wrong person watches this episode, and they will, all students with Downs become a potential threat.

And Downs is only one example of a minority.  Every high school campus includes other minorities.  They may be racial minorities; they may be sexuality or gender minorities; they may be religious minorities.  I fear that this episode of Glee counteracted all the work that the show has done over the years to regularize the students on the outside and, instead, has turned them into a threat. Where Glee once encouraged sympathy for that weird kid next to you in math class, whether he be Downs, gay, or Wiccan, now it has kids wondering if he is the next Adam Lanza.  We have Downs kids on our campus, and they wouldn’t hurt anyone.  I would hate to see our student population turn on them in fear.

High school is a trial by fire.  It hits those kids who don’t quite fit in the hardest.  Up until now, Glee has celebrated those students and given them a place.  This episode may well have reversed all of that.  Shooting Star threw something worse than a Slushee over the heads of every disenfranchised student in the country.

Godspell at Mysterium: the joys of being fluffy

 culture, Stage, theater  3 Responses »
Mar 032013
 

There is something so special in all things NEW.  We spend our lives operating under assumptions and paradigms that have stuck with us for years.  Those old paradigms can be about things as minor as our morning shower routine or as major as our religious beliefs and practices.  They give us comfort, but they can also rot, transforming from a useful structure into an obstacle that keeps us from moving forward with our physical, mental, and spiritual lives.

But we’ve all had that experience of newness.  Perhaps it was a new child that completely changed our lives, knocked the senses out of us, but resulted in a completely revised and healthier view of life.  Perhaps it was a new job, one that forced us to think and act in a new way.  For many of us, it was a new religion.  We have all had that time where we were so excited about all the amazing things we were learning about the Goddess, about the Aesir, about whatever pantheon we attach to that we felt charged with excitement to get out and share it with the world.  The Pagan community often refers to this as the “Fluffy Bunny” stage- a stage where everything about the world is rainbows and light and unicorns, and all you want to do is share those rainbows with the entire world.

Godspell, the now classic musical by Wicked creator Stephen Schwartz, opened this weekend at Mysterium Theater. It is an energetic, beautiful, and thoughtful portrayal of the Fluffy Bunny stage of Christianity.  It really doesn’t matter what your religion is, anyone with a heart can connect with the love, excitement, and sheer ecstasy that comes from this musical as it plays and experiments with the art of newness, the art of fluffiness.  The apostles of Godspell are just as supercharged about their messiah as the stereotypical 16 year old Gothic chick is about her first reading of Scott Cunningham, and this production surrounds us with that amazing excitement that comes with freshness.

Mysterium’s production emphasizes the new.  The show is based on the Gospel of Matthew, and it features the reactions and development of the apostles as they learn a completely new way of life from their teacher, Jesus.  They begin as a useless rabble, but they coalesce into a unified, energized new faith under their new rabbi.  This show is supremely adaptable, and Mysterium has added everything from Jesus rapping to multiple renditions of “Gangham Style” to Toy Story references to update the piece and give it a flair of modernity and relevancy.

Torran Kitts leads the performance.  His Jesus is intentionally young and innocent, and just a bit goofy.  While Kitts joins the chorus for most of the numbers, his leadership is quite clear from the very beginning.  The Jesus he present is young but powerful, and he radiates a charisma that helps us really believe that these societal outcasts would truly choose to follow him.  This perfect love and perfect trust he honestly establishes with his followers makes his eventual crucifixion- the end of the Fluffy Bunny stage- all the more painful.

Brian Lofting brings a bit of energy and force as both John the Baptist and Judas.  While his early proclamation demanding us to “Prepare Ye” for the coming of the Lord is a bit underwhelming, his strength improves as the story moves on.  By the time we see him betray his good friend, with that friend’s blessing, we have fallen in love with him as a true believer and a compassionate, realistic portrayal of our own fears and earthly concerns.  Lofting’s voice isn’t much better than the rest of the cast; his dancing is average, and you can see him sweat throughout the show, but that just seems to add to the grit of the story as it unfolds.

The rest of the cast absolutely glorifies in that fluffy feeling of newnesss and love.  Those of us in the audience get this amazing understanding of the thrill and joy that the original apostles felt as they lived with and learned from this crazy young upstart who challenged the codified interpretations of the Law.  Each lesson is accepted with love and respect, but each apostle gets the chance to broadcast their own power.  The entire chorus opens the doorway to the inspirational love and light that the apostles must have felt as they realized the transformational lessons that their teacher was giving them.  Particularly memorable are Kayla Cavaness’ soprano strength, Momoko Sugai’s second act intro, and Luis Ceja’s inspiring rendition of “We Beseech Thee.”

Director Rovin Jay and choreographer Sonya Lane’t Randall capitalize on Godspell’s openness to adaptation.  Together, they meld classical elements like John the Baptist’s iconic “Prepare ye the Way of the Lord” number with more modern dance styles and parable interpretations that ride the wave of this show’s improvisational heart.  The love that shines through from each number, regardless of the style of choreography, reminds us yet again of the joy that came from each of us as we learned a new religious point of view and broke away from old structures into a fresh new way of thinking, acting, and believing.

That freshness is exactly what this production emphasizes.  All of us have had that joyous experience where we realized exactly where our spiritual path was leading us.   It reminds us of what it was like to be fluffy bunnies, and taps into the spiritual joy that must have been felt by the early Christian bunnies.  At some point we all have to deal with our own crucifixions that force us to see the dark side or our faiths, but this Godspell reminds us that- before all of that pain- we all danced happily in the “Beautiful City.”  We have a lot to learn from that city, from that freshness, from that love.

 

 

Craigslist Joe: The Online Aquarian

 culture, film  No Responses »
Feb 242013
 

                I’ve never spent much time on Craigslist.  It became popular at a time when I was much more interested in finding cheap textbooks for grad school, so my early online shopping was focused more on half.com and Amazon.  I thought I could get all the information and products I could ever want on these two sites, plus a few others for travel, information, and social connections.  I had what I needed, I thought.  Why should I get caught up in yet another website that buys and sells other people’s junk? I had no idea there was so much more to Craigslist.

                I really had no idea of the entire world that lived within Craigslist until I watched the 2012 documentary Craigslist Joe.  The premise of the film is much like a cross between Morgan Spurlock’s projects Super Size Me and 30 Days.  Joseph Garner resolves to live one entire month with no money, home, or contacts.  His only source for food, shelter, income, and transportation is Craigslist.  Armed with only the clothes on his back, a laptop, and a cell phone, Joe sets out to live for a month off the kindness off those he meets on Craigslist, the site he describes as “the 21st century’s new town square.”

                Joe’s motivations are very Aquarian: he explains at the beginning that 21st century America has a love/hate relationship with their technology.  Many, he says, bemoan the fact that our devices bring us closer together through the Internet at the cost of having any real face-to-face interaction.  Human relationships, IRL, have suffered as people know each other merely as a Facebook status or an emotionally ambiguous text message.  The driving force behind Joe’s experiment is to test this hypothesis and see if real human relationships still exist.

                They do.  In his month living off the dole of Craigslist, Joe meets new people who offer him kindness in a way that my introverted mind can only barely comprehend.  Every night, he finds someone to offer free lodging.  He travels across the country bumming rides using the virtual thumb that is Craigslist, and never fails to obtain a ride when he needs one.  He visits with a Muslim family, a dominatrix, and a severely ill hoarder.  He travels to San Francisco, New York, New Orleans, and even Juarez, Mexico meeting fascinating people and living off of their dimes.  He even gets the chance to meet with Craigslist’s founder, Craig Newmark, who seems like a pretty cool guy.  Along the way, he proves that, while our connections methods have changed and we don’t all share the same values, Americans still care for one another.

                I still had this inspiring little movie in my head when I went to Pantheacon last weekend.  What I witnessed there continued to prove the film’s sunny thesis.  It seems that every year something happens Pantheacon weekend that challenges the Pagan community.  Over the last few years, it has been a discussion over transgender rights and their conflict with groups that define themselves as exclusive to cis-females.  It has been a painful, emotional battle on both sides, but progress has been made and many of the groups involved are beginning to move forward in the spirit of the conventions 2013 theme: “cooperation, tolerance, and love.”

                Nowhere was this more evident than in the Rite of 1,000 Crowns, an ecstatic ritual led by a joint effort of the Come as you Are Coven’s Bloodroot Honey Priestess Tribe and Green Men, along with The Living Temple of Diana.  In that beautiful ritual we honored the Goddess in all her forms, Masculine, Feminine, and Transgender, while also honoring ourselves in whatever gender we identify.  We are all sovereigns.  Can you get more Craigslisty-Aquarian than that?

                Then, just as Pantheacon was ending, another challenge came our way.  Now infamous, we were not even out of San Jose yet when we saw the Fox and Friends video that featured Tucker Carlson deriding Wiccans as “compulsive Dungeons and Dragons players” and “Middle-aged, twice divorced older” women “working as a midwife.”  That wasn’t so much the problem for me as the factual errors; the piece discusses some strange idea of Wiccans celebrating 20 holidays and wanting to get all of them off work.  What?

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hlXEGy20yTc

                There has been a lot of discussion over Pagan blogs and podcasts over who IS and IS NOT Pagan.  Non-Wiccan Pagans seek to distinguish themselves as their own traditions and no longer wish to be lumped in with a system they are not a part of.  Reconstructionists, Druids, and others have been questioning their identification with the “Pagan” label.  Non-Wiccan witches also have been carving their own niche in the world of Witchcraft.  Some have even claimed that there is an “Anything But Wiccan” movement afoot.

                And yet, when a piece makes it onto mainstream media that distorts and derides Wicca in particular, Pagans across multiple traditions came to Wicca’s defense.  The Covenant of the Goddess released a statement demanding an apology, and so did Circle Sanctuary’s Lady Liberty League.  Then The Lady Yeshe Rabbit of the Bloodroot Honey Priestess Tribe, acted in solidarity.  On Facebook, I saw multiple statements of support from Pagan individuals across the spectrum of traditions. Thousands of people signed two online petitions.  In our online community, labels don’t matter; people do.

                And it worked.  Tucker Carlson issued two apologies on Twitter, then issued another on-air apology in the same forum as the original comments.  Yes, they were half-hearted and a little snarky.  Yes, they still did not address the completely inept factual errors that were blasted about in the original piece, but it was a start.  Given Fox’s viewer base, Carlson really didn’t have to do anything.  The fact that he changed his tune and acknowledged that his conservative philosophy demands a “live and let live” attitude, shows the power we have working together in our community of religious ideas.

                Then, less than a week later I watched our community really come together.  The Temple of Witchcraft (of which I am a member) is in the process of creating a physical space for education, healing work, and public rituals.  To do so, town codes require that they build a parking lot at the cost of $68,000.  The Temple initiated an indiegogo campaign to raise the funds, and last week a donor offered to match any funds that were given within a 48-hour period.

                The response from the Pagan community was huge.  I saw the post shared on many Pagan Facebook pages from people of various traditions.  In 48 hours, the Temple received $10,335 in donations, and the matching donation brought the total amount to $20,670.  Just like Craigslist, Pagans come together to help each other yet again.

                During the course of his documentary, Joe meets up with some very strange characters.  Free spirits give him rides across the rolling miles of the United States and nice people who others would see as freaks share their stories of pain with him.  He learns not only the sacredness of every human being, but also that – deep within that covering of cynicism- people will give of themselves to help others.

                Joe runs across many people who are not like him at all, but who help, and that is probably the most inspiring part of this film.  For him, Craigslist become the hub of an Aquarian world where people pitch in to help each other simply because they are human.  In the end, he learns a lesson that echoes blogger Erik Scott’s reaction to the convention:

“These folks were almost nothing like me. And that, oddly enough, made me all the more fond of them.”

                Craigslist Joe proves that, despite our differences, we can indeed work together in Pantheacon’s ideal of “cooperation, tolerance, and love.”  Even if Tucker Carlson still doesn’t get our “20 holidays.”

 

Clearing your Name

 culture, theater  2 Responses »
Feb 112013
 

“Because it is my name! Because I cannot have another in my life! Because I lie and sign myself to lies! Because I am not worth the dust on the feet of them that hang! How may I live without my name? I have given you my soul; leave me my name!”

-From “The Crucible,” by Arthur Miller

 

 

            American theater is full of heroes who strive and struggle to reclaim their wrongfully tarnished names.  These characters battle a system, usually corrupt, that has stacked the odds decisively against them.  They get beaten down by enemies who threaten to impose a punishment worse than death: the destruction of their names; a rancid reputation that lingers long after their own deaths.  The potential damage to that hero is so severe that, when John Proctor finally lashes out with his climactic burst of desperation, the stage directions specify that the actor deliver this line “with a cry of his entire soul.”

            In his book The Other Side of Virtue, Brendan Myers discusses the power of apotheosis as a driving force in mythology, citing the stories of Chu Chullain and Achilles as examples of the human need for their reputation to live on.  It is a kind of immortality.  Myers cites this human drive as the reason why “an ancient Russian chieftain” became transformed into Norse All-Father, Odin.  At the same time, he acknowledges the fact that being remembered for evil things is the opposite of motivation. It is “a terrible punishment,” a punishment fought by “The Crucible’s” John Proctor with all of his soul.

            Mythology is part of our collective unconscious, and its themes get re-forged into new forms with every culture.  We see it in many plays and musicals that have made their ways to the professional stage.  Modern musicals seem to include it all the time.  Go back to the 1970s, and you have pieces like Evita and Sweeney Todd.  In one case, you have a flawed but powerful woman who manages to craft an image of herself as the people’s hero, eventually earning the name “Santa Evita” as her followers carry her name to the heavens in prayer.  In the other, an innocent barber is framed for the murder of his wife and returns from prison to exact his revenge – at all costs – against the judge who sent him away.  Sweeney earns a reputation for himself alright, but not the one he was going for.

            Of course, there’s Les Miserables, where at least two characters seek some form of apotheosis.  Jean Valjean is a criminal and parole breaker, but he turns good and ultimately dies with the knowledge that his name will live on in a good way.  Enjolras, the leader of the revolution, finds an apotheosis more in line with that of the mythological warriors.  With all hope lost, he mounts the barricade waving the flag of justice (as he sees it) and revolution, fully aware that he is about to die at the hands of his enemies.  His body, lying over the back of the barricade with the flag dangling from his dead hands, is one of the signature tableaus of the musical.

            Then there’s Ragtime.  Ragtime, to me, is one of the most unlikely musical successes of the past 15 years.  It is a story of racism and corruption in America that asks us to sympathize with a domestic terrorist – and we do.

            The central character is a successful African-American pianist named Coalhouse Walker, Jr.  After reuniting with the love of his life and mother of his child, Coalhouse buys a car and seeks to settle down and raise a family, all the while singing about how wonderful America is.  Then, an act of racist vandalism by a fireman rips his entire world apart.  Coalhouse tries all legal means to get the vandal to pay restitution, but runs into too many roadblocks.  Desperate, and willing to die for justice, Coalhouse begins a terrorist rampage, bombing fire stations around New York and taking hostages.

            The thing is, we know he’s a nice guy.  We saw him in the first act.  We root for him as he destroys fire stations and we look upon the police and firemen as the antagonists.  His reasons are understandable, but his methods are downright evil, and yet we like him.  We know, in the end, that Coalhouse is in the right, and that makes it easy to cheer for him.

            But here’s the problem: these are all just stories.  Even Evita, although it is based on a real woman, is a fictionalized biography.  When the situation becomes real, there is no way we are going to cheer on a terrorist.  This situation is currently playing out where I live.

            You may have seen it in the news: here in southern California, we have a cop-killing vigilante on the loose.  He has released a 15,000 word manifesto detailing his reasons and his goals.  He used to work for the LAPD and claims to have been fired for reporting racism and excessive use of force.  His reasons seem legitimate.  His stated goal is to clear his name, even if he dies.  To some extent, he is succeeding.  LAPD has re-opened his case, and he has many comments of support on his manifesto; one even lauds him as the beginning of a new American Revolution and tells the murder, “God bless you.”

            I have to think that commenters like this are far from the norm.  As much as I like Ragtime, the central story is a lie.  One cannot make a good name for oneself by killing innocent people.  In the end, these kinds of stories are themselves mythology.  In story, these characters reach the glorious immortality they seek.  In real life, they become synonymous with evil, suffering exactly the punishment that Brendan Myers says they will.

            The two most extreme of these stories, Ragtime and Sweeney Todd, tell stories of good men who were corrupted by an intense need to clear their names.  Although it is left a little unclear, Ragtime’s hero is mostly forgotten.  Sweeney, however, remains a spooky ghost story used to scare children.  In real life, those who seek violent payback to clean their dirtied names end up less like the martyr image of Coalhouse, and more like the haunted final view of Sweeney:

Attend the tale of Sweeney Todd

He served a dark and a vengeful god

To seek revenge may lead to hell,

Though everyone does it, but seldom as well

As Sweeney, as Sweeney Todd,

The Demon Barber of Fleet Street

 

2013 Oscar Contenders: Lincoln and Life of Pi

 culture, film  No Responses »
Jan 282013
 

The test of a first-rate intelligence is the ability to hold two opposed ideas in the mind at the same time and still retain the ability to function.

-F Scott Fitzgerald

 

                Lincoln and Life of Pi.  You would think that there are very few Oscar-nominated films that are as far apart in style, storyline, and theme.  After all, one is a political intrigue drama about one of America’s most iconic historical figures (and perhaps one of the most beloved men in the West – I’ve seen statues of Abraham Lincoln in places as far apart as London and Havana).  The other is a beautiful, surrealistic tale of a young boy from India who faces hazards not quite as dangerous as U.S. Congressmen: the open ocean, a lifeboat, and an adult Bengal tiger.

                And yet, there is so much these two films have in common.  Both are life and death battles against seemingly insurmountable forces, bringing out the best as well as the worst of the man who must face them.  Both require great sacrifice of those men and take severe a physical and mental price from them.  Both stories require their protagonist to repair his relationships with his demons, whether those demons come in the form of family, failure, or feline.  And in the end, both films teach us of the human spirit and what is possible when you have an unshaking faith in hope.

                Both films honor the Warrior Spirit.  True, these warriors are not of the traditional, spear and shield type, but they are warriors nonetheless.  In Lincoln, we see a humanized version of this celebrated figure.  This is not a biography of the 16th president, but rather a dramatization of one of the most difficult – and perhaps the most historically important – battles of his life: The fight to pass the 13th Amendment and abolish slavery in the U.S. forever.

                It is a battle that takes both the high and low ground.  The President cannot wait until the Civil War is won because the returning Southern congressmen would never vote for it.  As if that isn’t enough, only the most radical Northern representatives would vote for such a volatile bill in peacetime.  Lincoln (played incredibly well by Daniel Day Lewis) must appeal to all parties: passionate activists for equality, opportunistic conservatives, and lame-duck members of the opposing party – all while conducting a bloody war and negotiating with his enemies.

                This picture of Lincoln- far from the “Honest Abe” stereotype we learned in elementary school- does not blush at bribing some, lying to others, and outright threatening the rest for the cause he feels to be right.  It is a Lincoln with a sharp wit and sharper mind who sees the political battleground the way a seasoned general sees the field of war.  Where others get lost in small skirmishes, he navigates the big picture, leading it slowly and inexorably toward conclusion.  This is a patient, determined warrior who sees victory through.

                Pi’s battle is very different.  Shipwrecked and stranded on a lifeboat in the deepest part of the Pacific, his entire family lost at sea, Pi must battle nature for his goal- survival.   Pi’s story includes all the elements we’ve all seen before in shipwreck films: sharks, starvation, sunburn, and that visceral delirium that comes from desperation and uncertainty.  But a little turn of plot causes a huge twist in this survival story.  You see, Pi’s family owned a zoo, and their shipwreck stranded the animals as well as the humans.  In the chaos, Pi ends up on the same lifeboat as one of the zoo’s residents – a tiger.

                So Pi battles the elements, but he also battles his fellow survivor.  No holds are barred in the depiction of this tiger (named “Richard Parker”).  The early scenes with the wild animal are brutal.  Other, less powerful animals make it onto the boat with Pi, and their fates leave little doubt about the nature of Richard Parker.   It can be easy to romanticize tigers because of their beauty, scarcity, and performance in Las Vegas magic shows, but this film avoids that.  Richard Parker is dangerous, and Pi is at war with him just as much as he is at war with the sea.

                Like Lincoln, however, Pi must reach across the aisle and find ways to resolve a terrible situation with an implacable enemy if he is to eventually come out on top.  Over time, Pi learns to co-exist with his fearsome boat-mate.  Like Lincoln, the warrior in Pi does not allow him to give up.  Like Lincoln, Pi learns to use his mind to overcome battles that others would blush at.  These men are both fearsome warriors, not with swords, but facing just as much mortal danger as soldiers.

                However, I think the most important similarity between these two films comes in the realm of mythology.  Abraham Lincoln has become American mythology.  Sure, he was a real person, but that doesn’t make him any less mythological.  We hear so many apocryphal tales about him, his childhood, his career as a lawyer, the Lincoln-Douglas debates, and even his death that it can be hard to separate truth from fiction.  My favorite saying is echoed my historian James Loewen, who talks about American schoolchildren believing, inexplicably, that Lincoln, “Was born in a log cabin he built with his own two hands.”

                With all these tales about a man who lived after the invention of photography but before widespread use of recording, it can be easy to get a larger-than-life picture of him.  The truth is that Lincoln was a man.  He struggled to prove himself to his mentally ill wife.  He grieved over a lost son.  He agonized over every decision he made.  He suspended Habeus Corpus and subjected the Union to a whole host of almost dictatorial war powers, all in the name of democracy.  He also saved the union during one of its darkest times.  In many ways, he was – as his assassin claimed – a tyrant, but his tyranny preserved the country.  There’s a lot to hate and a lot to love about him.  He was both tyrannical and compassionate, hero and villain, Heirophant and Devil.   Like myth, the stories about him are both true and false.

                Pi’s story just seems so allegorical.  Could someone really be trapped on a lifeboat for months with a tiger?  From the very beginning, the style of the film suggests fantasy.  So much of the art direction is just a shade beyond realistic.  The incandescent whale glows just a little too brightly, the animals on the boat seem a little too human, the island he briefly lands on seems just a shade too green. Yet, it is presented as a realistic tale.

                Late in the film, you are called to account for that.  You are asked what you prefer to believe: is Pi’s story of survival an incredible tale of a human facing dangers from above and below, or is it all just the delusions of a starving, suffering, exhausted boy?

Or, like the mythology of Lincoln, is it both?  How good are you at holding two opposing thoughts in your head?

2013 Oscar Contenders: Beasts of the Southern Wild

 culture, film  No Responses »
Jan 212013
 

                Earlier today I took part in a webinar on the Goetia presented by local magician, author, and musician Lon Milo DuQuette.  In his opening, DuQuette explained that these “evil spirits” were not evil in the sense of hailing from some fiery place of eternal torment and torture.  Rather, they represent those failings within ourselves that work against us, keeping us from fulfilling our full potential as human beings.

                That idea fits nicely with the Oscar-nominated film Beasts of the Southern Wild.  Little Hushpuppy and her father live in a flooded portion of the Mississippi Delta. Their community is close-knit, full of their own traditions, and passionate for life.  It also is dangerously fragile.  Any of the multiple storms that come through the delta could be their last.  The slightest rise in the water level can flood their life and culture out of existence.  Demons surround them, poised for the chance to destroy their way of life.

                Hushpuppy has plenty of demons to contend with.  As her people are threatened by the invasive ethnocentrism of mainstream society, she is personally endangered by her father’s mysterious, advancing illness.  Like the land beneath her feet, the stability of her life seems to be slipping away from her as her father slides into dementia, anger, and violence, all symptoms of a blood disease that is tearing the only foundation she has away from her.  Hushpuppy lives on the brink of destruction, just as her land and people do.

                The story is told through the eyes of this resourceful but troubled little girl.  Much like how the landscape of the film blurs the distinction between land and water, the worlds of fantasy and reality are blurred in her eyes.  Gigantic, prehistoric predators descend upon her home as life gets harsher and harsher, and as she runs faster and faster away from them.  Just as DuQuette discussed in his webinar, it becomes Hushpuppy’s job to stop running, turn to face her demons, and order them in no uncertain terms to leave her alone.  Ultimately, the movie reminds us that changing your fantasies and fears can change your reality.

                Little Quvenzhané Wallis carries the film on her shoulders just as surely as her character carries her community.  Nominated for an Oscar, Wallis is soft-spoken yet strong, afraid yet confident.  She gives a wonderfully sensitive performance that betrays a wisdom beyond her years.  As her father, Wink, Dwight Henry brings a passionate emotion that helps us have compassion for a lifestyle that many of us have little ability to comprehend.

                Beasts of the Southern Wild isn’t so much a “coming of age” film as a “coming into strength” film.  It teaches us to stop crying about our problems, “like a bunch of pussies,” as Hushpuppy’s teacher so bluntly puts is.  Yes there are demons working against all of us, but we’re much better off facing them with courage than turning our back with fear.  This is a fascinating, magical film that should appeal to the Juggler’s audience.

2013 Oscar Contenders: Les Miserables

 culture, film, music, Stage  No Responses »
Jan 132013
 

                I have written before about my extensive history with Les Miserables.  It was The theater geek musical of my high school years, leading me to a pretty intimate knowledge of the sweeping musical’s ins and outs, its triumphs and- looking at it now from a more mature perspective- its failures.  Needless to say, my breath became baited the moment I first saw the trailer for the long-awaited film version.

                 Quite frankly, I don’t believe it deserves a nomination for Best Picture.  It was good.  There were some wonderful performances and a few brilliantly poignant moments, but there is more to a Best Picture than acting and moments, especially when the script is handed to you as a proven success.  Overall, despite all that was right about the movie, there were too many times when director Tom Hooper simply didn’t take advantage of the wonderful opportunities the medium of film offers over the limitations of the stage, and he seemed to have lost all of his creative juices in the process.

 

 

                If you are unfamiliar with this musical adaptation of the massive Victor Hugo novel, it’s a story of faith and redemption that questions the idea of shallow, sharp distinctions between good and evil.  The good guy, Jean Valjean (Hugh Jackman), is an ex-con and a parole breaker who spends the entire musical running from the law.  The “bad guy” is Javert (Russell Crowe), an incorruptible police officer who dedicates his life to capturing Valjean, despite the convict’s demonstrable embrace of all things good.

                  If nothing else, this central storyline should appeal to a Pagan audience.  While the story is told through the filter of Catholicism, it clearly questions what truly qualifies as good and evil and advocates a view that coincides with the Law of Polarity: nothing is black and white; everything is grey.  Sometimes breaking the rules is the right thing to do.

                Of course, there is a lot more to Les Miz than that.  For social activists, there is the story of the downtrodden rising up against their oppressors. This storyline hits hard on the dynamics of youth and their elders, questioning idealism in favor of the moderated wisdom of experience.  For romantics, there is a classic love triangle subplot that forces young Marius to choose between a friend and a lover, his passion for his cause and his dreams for his future.  Yet all of these plots seem to be rivers contributing to the overall “Is there such a thing as good or evil?” theme, which is a note that often resonates within the Pagan community.

                So there is a lot to like here.  Hugh Jackman fully deserves his nomination for Best Actor.  Valjean is a role of extensive range; it requires a huge vocal range and a vast transition of character as the character transforms from prisoner to businessman to father to sick old man.  We all knew Jackman could sing, but this role takes a special voice, and he has it. 

                Anne Hathaway’s nomination is also richly deserved.  The role of Fantine doesn’t have as much range as that of Valjean, but she does sing one the show’s most popular numbers, “I Dreamed a Dream,” and her descent into destruction needs to be honest and believably complete.  Hathaway does a wonderful job in this key role.

 

                 There are other spot-on performances. The somewhat infamous Sacha Baron Cohen was a brilliant choice for the thieving innkeeper Thernardier, and Helena Bonham Carter is the perfect match as his wife.  This couple represents the movie’s much-needed comic relief.  Unfortunately, some of their best shtick is directed out of the film, but what the duo is allowed hits the right combination of creepy and hilarious.  Daniel Huttlestone is an adorably feisty little Gavroche.

                But then there was what was wrong with the film.  Let’s start with Russell Crowe.  The man can act, and he looks great in his beautiful costumes as Javert moves up in rank over the years, but anyone with ears knows that he was not the right choice.  His voice just isn’t up the demands of the music.  This becomes clear in his first solo, “Stars.”  The song ends with a long, emphatic note that, when properly sung, can send chills down your spine.  Crowe’s rendition ends with a soft whimper, so much so that the scene just fades away, not even allowing him to finish the note.  This pattern remains for each of his big endings, and each becomes an unsatisfying small ending. 

 

                 There is so much you can do in a movie that you can’t do on stage.  Camera angles can change, flashbacks can help tell the story, scenery can strike our heart and help us understand the setting.  And Tom Hooper chose to take advantage of virtually none of that.  Almost every solo is an extended extreme close up on the actor.  We spend the entire song staring at the details of the actor’s/actress’ face when there is so much more a filmmaker could do with his medium.  There is a sweet genuineness to the extreme honesty on each singer’s face, but it’s just too much.  I’m much more well acquainted with the inside of Hugh Jackman’s mouth than I ever wanted to be.

                The final sequence was a wonderful piece of filmmaking that had everything that these missed moments didn’t have.  More of that, and I would be rooting for the movie to win.

 

                 One of the biggest advantages of Les Miz is the orchestra.  Normally, the music is loud.  It serves as just as much of a character as anyone on the stage.  The rousing opening jolts you into sudden awareness, and from that point on the orchestra is ever present.  However, in the film the music is so soft we barely notice it. The same opening that almost knocks you off your seat in the stage version is quiet and understated in the movie, and it never really rises to its full potential.  That was a distinct waste of a good storytelling resource.

 

                 There are a lot of Oscar nominations that Les Miserables deserves.  Costumes: Yes.  Jackman and Hathaway: Yes.  Makeup: Maybe. I liked the movie. I just don’t think that, taken as a whole, it fits as an overall example of excellent filmmaking. 

 

Top 10 Pagan Quotes of 2012

 culture, Internet Media, News  2 Responses »
Dec 282012
 

Well, they said that 2012 was going to be the year of radical shifts in consciousness.  This year’s top Pagan quotes all seem to reflect that notion.  These are not the words of happy, comfortable New Agers seeking light and love.  Each one of these quotes challenges the existing paradigm and seeks to light a transformative fire under our collective rear ends.

Star Foster starts off the list by emphatically rejecting the perception that Pagans are simply a strange sect of alternative Christians, explaining in no uncertain terms how we are different from any sect of Christianity.  Crystal Blanton and Michael York both challenged us to go beyond the tempting polarity of Us vs. Them and find a new way of being the inclusive we claim to be, effectively challenging us to put up or shut up.

Dr. Brendan Myers advanced the argument that a previously under-recognized brand of Paganism was coming into its own, stirring up a lot of discomfort for the more theistic element of our community.  Teo Bishop made such a huge splash this year that he appears twice.  First, he underwent a very public coming out process as he wrestled with two public identities. Then he set fire to his own blog by questioning an element of Pagan ritual that many people see as downright foundational.

Add to that elders publicly leaving their traditions of origin, a call for male allies in the national fight for women’s rights, and a little poke at certain Mormon politician, and you end up with a year of Pagan quotes that broke self-imposed molds and stimulated entire new ways of thinking.  Our community is better for it.

As always, these quotes must have been said by people who are known to be Pagans.  Words stated by non-Pagans, even if they were about us, don’t qualify, even if Conan O’Brien brings one of our most revered publications to national television.  Also as usual, these are just what I found.  If I missed something you really liked this year, please feel free to leave the quote in a comment.

With those disclaimers out of the way, let’s get on with the Top 10 Pagan Quotes of 2012:

10. “I reject Jesus Christ. I reject Jesus Christ. I reject Jesus Christ.

There. I’ve said it three times. We’re officially divorced.” – Star Foster, August 2

9. “We judge one another in order to define who is Black enough, spiritual enough, Pagan enough or oppressed enough and we miss the mark on the true gift of our community.  The best gift that we can give is to love more, understand more, empathize more, show more, give more, listen more, connect more and even identify more with those who have experienced this here journey called life.” – Crystal Blanton, February 23

8. “Before I was a blogger named Teo Bishop, I was an artist named Matt Morris. I’ve been doing music since I was a little kid, been a pro since I was a teenager, and up until the last year or two, I’ve done little else.’ – Teo Bishop, July 12

7. “But it is to our shame that we fight among ourselves, drench ourselves in petty jealousies and reflect our worldwide human comrades more than the mother’s sanctity itself.” – Michael York, May 6

6. “I just don’t think the gods, any gods, care at all about politics. I don’t care if that god lives near the star Kolob, once resided in the Holy of Holies, or was worshipped on the Acropolis in the Parthenon of Ancient Athens.” – Jason Mankey, October 18

5. “Humanist Paganism seems to be an emerging option for those who want to be part of the Pagan community, but who want to be a little more intellectual about their practices, and they really don’t care about the “woo” anymore.” – Brendan Myers, August 18

4. “This past weekend I felt ashamed at Pagan Pride on account of a circle.” – Teo Bishop, October 22

3. “I, M. Macha NightMare, Priestess & Witch, aka Aline O’Brien, withdraw from the organization known as Reclaiming Tradition Witchcraft and hereby dissociate myself from further involvement with the tradition.” – M. Macha NightMare, August 4

2. “Don’t worry about the economy so much: as the majority labor force in this country, and the majority in colleges and universities at this time, women will be able to figure things out with the economy once we are able to stop wasting our time on, you know, worrying about being raped or forced to have children who are products of rape.” – Lady Yeshe Rabbit, August 23

1.  “I stand against rape, in person and at the polls.” – Pagan men’s response to Lady Yeshe Rabbit’s call for their support against misogynistic election year discourse.

New Music Review: Damh the Bard’s “Antlered Crown and Standing Stone”

 culture, Druidry, Internet Media, music  No Responses »
Dec 162012
 

Damh the Bard is a pretty amazing guy.  Aside from holding an important post within the Order of Bards, Ovates, and Druids, Damh is the host of Druidcast, the most consistent and intellectually stimulating Pagan podcast I know of.  As if that weren’t enough, Damh the Bard is one of the foremost Pagan musicians of recent years.  His music reflects his love for myth, the spiritual power of his native Britain, and beautifully honest homage for the gods of nature.  A good dose of Damh’s music will enhance the spirituality of any Pagan household, regardless of its Pagan tradition.

Last month, Damh released his newest album, Antlered Crown and Standing Stone.  More than any of his other work, this album is devotional.  Playing it feels more like an act of worship than of passive listening, and each song expresses an inspirational spiritual love for the gods and the land and the mythologies that bind us all together.

The title track may well be the most impassioned love song to the Horned God that anyone has released yet.  While Damh has released many pieces that honor various incarnations of the Green Man/Cernunnos/Herne/Horned God (check out his wonderful Green and Grey), this one really comes from a place of pure love.  It is a heartfelt hymn to nature, life, and the God’s walk with us through this life:

I am lover, I am father,

I am Horned God and King,

I’m the life in all of Nature,

That is reborn every Spring,

Call of stag and cry of eagle,

I am Child of Barleycorn,

And I am the Antlered Crown and Standing Stone!

Under a Beltane Sun is an unexpected tune for our most rollicking Sabbat.  Instead of going with the obvious high energy, sexual themes, Damh opts for a poetic homage to the opening beauty of nature that bursts forth every May.  The music is melodic and peaceful, once again emphasizing awe and worship of the cycles of life and the inspiration available in every small piece of the natural world.

Then, the album takes a turn toward the artist’s true love for his homeland.  Brighid honors the three aspects of the Celtic healing and forge goddess.  Branwen’s Lament is a love letter between Branwen and her brother Bran after the god has sacrificed himself to save his beloved sister.  This song does not merely retell the myth.  In fact, it doesn’t retell anything.  Instead, it focuses on the power inherent in the familial bond between the divine siblings as Bran sacrifices his life and kingship to save his sister disgrace:

 

Sister I heard you calling to me,

O’er the Irish sea,

I brought a war to those foreign shores,

For to set you free,

Now I feel I’m dying poison in my veins,

But for you my dear Sister I’d do it again.

Sons and Daughters (of Robin Hood) continues the themes on impassioned love for Damh’s land and his people.  This may be his most overtly political song.  It pointedly accuses Great Britain’s politicians of being power hungry, corrupt, and really not very different from each other despite party affiliations (sound familiar in this election year, fellow Americans?).  Yet, the chorus calls the people of Britain to action, reminding them of their ancestral connection to the world’s most beloved outlaw.  This is an understated call for revolution, and Parliament appears to be the modern version of the Sherriff of Nottingham.

Other songs of note include The January Man, in which Damh follows one man through the course of a year, creating his own mythology of the land as it cycles through a turn of the Wheel.  The Dreaming changes gears a bit, altering the focus to Australia, a land where Damh has travelled as a musician many times.  In The Dreaming, Damh honors the local Land, Sea, and Sky of the Land Down Under.

Here where the land still is king,

Beneath red sand the Ancestors are dreaming,

And a Mother knows which song will be sung,

When a new life has begun.

A serpent made a path across the land,

Formed the rivers and mountains where they stand,

These songs are in the kookaburra’s call,

But she’s laughing at us all.

And the Southern Cross shines down on where I stand,

And I hear the voices from the Singing Land.

Finally, Damh turns back to the core of his Druid roots with the powerful Cerridwen and Taliesin.  The trials and transformation of Taliesin are familiar to any regular listener to Damh’s podcast and anyone who has some background in Celtic mythology, but this song takes a different perspective on a familiar myth.  The core of the myth, the archetypal chase of Gwion by the angry mother Cerridwen, is only one section of this retelling.

The song actually begins with a description of Cerridwen’s suffering at the ugliness of her own son, and the desperate lengths she is willing to go to in order to give him some form of solace for his suffering.  So this time, when Gwion licks his thumb and absorbs the Awen that was brewed out of love for her son; we feel her pain, anger and suffering.  When we finally get to the chase, a part of us roots for Cerridwen as she promises to transform into whatever it takes to “tear you from your skin.”  This version of the myth portrays Cerridwen more as a grieving mother than a fearsome hag.

Damh the Bard never fails to come out with new, fresh, excellent Pagan music.  Antlered Crown and Standing Stone is Damh’s version of pure devotion, offering passionate reverence to the spiritual forces within the Earth, within the gods, and within each of us.  If you are looking for the perfect Yuletide gift for a Pagan on your list, I highly recommend this beautiful new album.

Incidentally, Damh the Bard is in the process of trying to organize a Pagan music concert at the Royal Albert Hall in London.  Royal Albert is the Carnegie Hall of the UK, one of the most prestigious venues in the world. A Pagan concert there would represent an incredible new step for alternative spirituality.  If you’d like to support Damh in this effort, check out his webpage and Like the project on Facebook.

 

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