culture » The Juggler

Dragon Night on the PTN

May 222013

Following the example set by Catland Books, the newest metaphysical store in New York, in conceiving what Unicorn Movie Night might look like once the Pagan Television Network (PTN) is up and running, I began to put together ideas for Dragon Movie Night: dragons being arguably the quintessential mythic Pagan creatures, before even unicorns, centaurs, and mermaids.

Film special effects had to catch up to the mythic possibilities of the dragon, for “Dragon movies” (movies that

Dragonslayer’s Dragon

feature a dragon in some important way) to become pleasingly viable. The producers of 1981′s Dragonslayer took inspiration from Disney’s animated short The Sorcerer’s Apprentice (itself an almost ideally realized Magickal work), augmented with research on St.George and the Dragon. The resulting film is practically a perfect Pagan fantasy adventure, set in the 6th century and featuring a Wizard, his apprentice, visionary prophecies, magic amulets, enchanted spears, and miraculous resurrection (with the brilliant British actor Ralph Richardson in one of his last film roles). The effects work was state-of-the-art for its time, involving a hydraulic model and puppets for the titular dragon; if it looks a little dated now, so does the original King Kong, which nonetheless keeps its mythic power. The creature has the evocative name of Vermithrax Pejorative (putting “vermin” together with “anthrax” is pretty clever; the “pejorative” on the end really sells it), and the movie attains elegiac status in depicting the medieval age “when wizards and dragons were finished.”

CGI-effects replaced animatronic replicas, and so 1996′s Dragonheart followed the same processes used to

Dragonheart’s Dragon

create the dinosaurs in Jurassic Park. The inspiration was the idea of a “buddy” film that featured a medieval knight and a dragon (naturally, the last in the world; something about dragon movies is always drawn to the notion of the “last dragon”). In an amusing twist, the knight and the mythic monster con villagers with staged “dragon slayings”; the beast possesses Magickal powers, though, as a piece of his “dragon heart” saves the life of a young prince (who alas, grows up to be a tyrannical king), creating a symbiotic link between the two. Voiced by Sean Connery and modeled upon Chinese dragons, Dragonheart’s ”Draco” has an independent personality in addition to a name (Latin for “dragon,” but chosen in reference to the northern star constellation); in an act of celestial rebirth, Draco becomes a star in the constellation following his death at the movie’s end. A fanciful fantasy, Dragonheart (like Dragonslayer) would make a good first-feature on the Pagan Television Network’s Pagan-Family Dragon-Movie Night.

2002′s Reign of Fire, however, is a much darker film, unique for being set in an apocalyptic future as opposed to the medieval past- an apocalypse wrought by the resurrection of legendary dragons. The movie opens right after the turn-of-the-millennium (remember the turn-of-the-millennium?), when workers on the London Underground (the London subway) awaken a dragon which has been in hibernation after hundreds of years. This unleashes a new scourge of the fearsome creatures which terrified the Middle Ages, plunging the world into another Dark Ages chaos (Reign of Fire is a bit like Mad Max with dragons); Christian Bale has adopted a boy orphaned by the rampaging beasts, and organizes a small community of survivors (a charming sequence shows the adults entertaining the kids with a bedtime drama that is recognized as the confrontation between Luke and Darth Vader at the end of The Empire Strikes Back); Matthew McConaughey shows up as a road-warrior dragon-hunter, and the battle for humanity’s survival is underway. There are questions of logic in the film: can dragons really hibernate for centuries? can a single reawakened dragon really reproduce into a force that can plunge modernity into a bleak dystopia? can a single male dragon really sire an entire dragon population? All of that notwithstanding, it is interesting to see London as a disaster site (as opposed to New York), and shots of a deserted London ruled by dragons are chilling. Reign of Fire may not make a lot of sense if you think about it too much, but is exciting and fun all the same.

Since then, we have seen 2006′s Eragon, a medievalist fantasy about a boy bonding with a pet dragon; the dragons of the Triwizard Tournament in 2005′s Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire; the animated dragon in 2010′s DreamWorks production How To Train Your Dragon (about a young Viking dragon-slayer-in-training who befriends a dragon instead); and soon, arguably the most famous dragon in the fantasy genre, Smaug in the upcoming movie of The Hobbit. In addition there is the fascinating “docufiction” called Dragon’s World: A Fantasy Made Real (also titled “The Last Dragon”); to say nothing of the first great screen dragon, in Disney’s Sleeping Beauty, which also features a wicked enchantress in a horned headdress, a trio of benevolent Faerey Godmothers, and the Faerey-Tale premise of a sleeping princess in a castle surrounded by thorny briars. It is clear that something about the great mythological beasts called dragons intrigues the mind and lends itself to entertainment of a Fantasy or Pagan nature- a trend that will undoubtedly continue, as movie effects improve in sophistication and as people continue to desire fantastical amusement.

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.

Legend

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May 182013

At some point during Legend, I decided that it could be boiled down to: Tom Cruise, Puck, Tinker Bell, and some Dwarves save the Last Unicorn from the Devil. As in The Last Unicorn (the first offering of Unicorn Pagan Movie Night at Catland Books, the newest metaphysical store in New York), Unicorns in Legend are seen as Pagan embodiments of sacredness and holiness: enough so that dark and evil things will wish to possess and destroy them. Tom Cruise appears as a guy named “Jack,” who might as well be surnamed “of the Green”; he takes the place of the Green Man in this film, as a living avatar of the wooded forest and the creatures of the wild.

Iconic Shot From Legend

There is a beautiful princess (of course), and tragedy of an inadvertent kind results when Jack takes the lovely royal to the secret place where unicorns live. Enraptured, she wants to touch the beautiful creatures; however, this innocent gesture unleashes a paralyzing freeze across the land, as well as the malevolence of the Lord of Darkness and his grotesque Goblin minions.

Pagan Princess, Tom Cruise, and a Unicorn; from Legend

Jack (Tom Cruise) and the princess are filled with grief and dismay- initially not realizing the serious consequences of their actions (which however misguided, were undertaken with purity of intent), and are horrified by the dreadful consequences which they could not have foreseen and which they fear they cannot remedy. Director Ridley Scott has an excellent, and epic, visual sense, and creates a breathtakingly beautiful cinematic fable, albeit kind of a mishmash of legendary motifs: the Dwarves remind of Lord of the Rings and Snow White, as do their evil counterparts, the Goblins; the princess becomes Persephone once the Dark Lord decides he wishes to make her his consort; and the Tinker Bell character is both a twinkling will o’the wisp as well as a capricious and unruly Celtic Wild Child. The Puck (while not so named, but easily identified, at least by his signature broom) is eerily effective, played by a wide-eyed kid with a dubbed adult’s voice. This character could be shifted into a production of A Midsummer Night’s Dream with good results.

Tim Curry as the Lord of Darkness, in Legend

The one drawback to the film for me, was the Lord of Darkness, very well-played by Tim Curry, but undeniably modeled upon the Devil. With a scarlet complexion and gigantic horns (I found myself wondering how much time Mr. Curry must have endured in makeup each morning), Legend’s Lord of Darkness recalls Mephistophiles and Milton, and represents (in context) a sort of hoofed and demonized Pagan Horned God. (Pagans tend to view Horned Divinities as positive and beneficial, as Representatives of Nature and the Life Force.) If you accept the premise that this exceptionally Pagan universe has the Devil in it, wanting to destroy everything, Legend works. Finally, it is interesting that “Legend” applies equally to the film as well as to the beginning of Mr. Cruise’s film career. He seems a little ill-at-ease in the movie’s opening, as a Nature Boy at-one with the forest, and comes into his own later, when the character transforms into the sort of action-adventure hero upon which so much of Mr. Cruise’s subsequent film career has been based. In retrospect, the final shot mythologizes Tom Cruise on the cusp of movie stardom as much as it mythologizes his character, Jack.

Unicorn Night on the PTN

culture, film 2 Responses »

May 162013

The Last Unicorn

I’m loving the newest NYC metaphysical store Catland, which hosts regular Pagan Movie Nights; their latest offering of The Last Unicorn and Legend (both of which, despite coming out in the ’80s, I had never seen before) gives an example of what the Pagan Television Network might look like, once it’s up and running, as the flicks (representing Unicorn Night on the PTN) would make a Pagan family-friendly double feature. The Last Unicorn is a lovely animated fable that deals with illusions versus reality, and the fact that people often miss or overlook the sacred and the magickal right in front of them. (Several of the folks in attendance described it as the film that rocked their universe when they saw it as nascent Pagan youths during the Reagan administration.) The main character (as one might guess) is a Unicorn who fears that she is the last unicorn. She lives in an enchanted forest, protecting the greenlands with her unicorn magic as the forest protects her. Anxious to discover if there are, in fact, any other unicorns however, she leaves her wooded home and sets off into the wider world- a move surely guaranteed to bring about trials and change, but learning and growth as well.

Old Witch Mommy Fortuna, in The Last Unicorn

She is initially kidnapped into a traveling Midnight Carnival by a greedy old Witch named Mommy Fortuna (voiced by Angela Lansbury, and wearing branch-like horned appendages on her head-wrap, with the customary Evil Witch’s familiar, a sinister raven). Mommy Fortuna’s “thing” is to create enchantments that allow her to pass off mundane animals as legendary ones (the mythological references in the movie are sort of all over the place, ranging from Greek mythology to medieval, to ancient Celtic); an employee of Mommy Fortuna’s, though, is a struggling Wizard who has faith in the powers of his Magick (uncertain as it is), whose powers might be faulty with unintended consequences, but are nonetheless real. (He is able to summon the shades of Robin Hood and his Merry Men, and to reveal the enchanted living reality of the forest trees; he is also a Juggler, by the by.)

The Last (Magickal) Unicorn

Along the way, the unicorn is transformed (through a well-intentioned mishap of the Wizard’s spells) into a human, causing her to learn a regret and pain that she had never experienced as a unicorn before. She meets a handsome prince, however, and an aged king who has stolen all the other unicorns in order jealously to possess them as his own. (He summons the Red Bull, a very Tain-like creature, to drive the unicorns into the ocean, where he can enjoy their “shining grace” all to himself; of course, this robs the world of unicorns, something which the old king, in his selfishness, ignores.) A small family is formed through the adversities and adventures; the unicorns are of course liberated; and happiness returns at the end, made all the more sweet despite, and because of, the interludes of grief and disillusion. Throughout, the peculiar mythological power of the Unicorn as a symbol of desire, and sacred spirituality of a very Pagan nature, is the driving force behind this charming film- as it is in the second of Catland’s Unicorn Movie choices: Legend (post to follow).

Big Apple Bikes

culture 1 Response »

May 142013

One of the useful things about city living is the communal use of resources, such as say, transportation. New Yorkers make cooperative use of subways, buses, taxis, and now thanks to Citibank, bicycles, through the new Citibike NYC program. Bike stations have begun to appear throughout Manhattan (soon to be outfitted with bikes, available for either daily or weekly rentals, and chargeable to a credit card). This effectively makes a fleet of bicycles accessible to New Yorkers (which may be returned to any station within the city), and encourages cardiovascular benefit, reduction of fossil fuel emissions, and the tranquil state of mind that comes from bike travel. Kudos to Citibank for this civic friendly enterprise, and the promotion of a cleaner and healthier New York- all goals that the Pagan or Pagan-minded New Yorker can support with appreciation.

Irish Memorial in Manhattan

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May 122013

The Irish Hunger Memorial, side view

The Irish Hunger Memorial, an affirming testament to a terrible period in Irish history, is part of the revitalization project of the Hudson River Park area of lower Manhattan going on since the early 2000s. The memorial is a cultural reminder of the Great Irish Famine, also known as the Potato Famine, when a blight upon the vegetable crop between 1845-1852 caused approximately one million Irish to die of starvation, and another one million to emigrate, reducing Ireland’s population by a quarter. The catastrophe effected a permanent change in Ireland’s political, cultural, and demographic landscape, exposing the nineteenth century cruelty of Irish subjugation by the English; searing itself into Irish folk-memory; and creating a rallying point for the Irish nationalist movement.

Irish Hunger Memorial, top view

The Hunger Memorial is situated on a half-acre site in Lower Manhattan’s Battery Park neighborhood, and is a brilliantly fascinating piece of architecture. It is basically a recreation (in minor) of the Irish landscape rising above street level, and is constructed out of soil, stones, and vegetation brought from Ireland. A Gaelic standing stone and rocks inscribed with the names of the Irish counties complete the impression, as does a reconstructed nineteenth century cottage donated by its owners, shipped across the Atlantic, and reassembled on the site.

Hunger Memorial, Interior

Although the material does not quite say so, the interior passageway leading from the street into the memorial suggests so strongly a Neolithic monument like Newgrange (the Brugh na Boyne) illuminated by sunlight at significant periods, as to make me suspect that it was the inspiration.

In short, the Irish Hunger Memorial has a number of features that make it deeply attractive to a Celtic Pagan as well as to a tourist in New York. As if to cement the impression, the memorial’s dedication plaque is headed by a Triskelion: the famous interlocking, threefold Celtic swirl-design. This distinguishes the memorial as one of a surely limited number of Manhattan sites to be commemorated by a Pagan esoteric symbol. Pagan visitors to the Big Apple are encouraged to check out the Irish Hunger Memorial, both as a memento to a dreadful period in Ireland’s past, and as a living recreation of the Irish Celtic landscape.

Book Review: How (Not) to Kiss a Prince by Elizabeth A. Reeves

culture No Responses »

May 092013

How (Not) to Kiss a Prince is a worthy successor to the first Cindy Eller book, How (Not) to Kiss a Toad. Reeves is revealing a talent for placing her protagonist in an impossible situation and then turning the screw. Having finally overcome her unfortunately tendency to toadify any man she kisses, Cindy is enjoying her first relationship with Timothy, her beloved ice-cream magnate, when handsome Prince Justice Courage Phillippe Jacabo Thyme the Third (Justin, more informally) arrives at Cindy’s bakery and announces that because of a vow her mother made many years ago he and Cindy are betrothed, and since witch tradition dictates that the eldest daughter must marry first, they must be wed before Rose, one of Cindy’s sisters, whose wedding is slated to be held in two weeks. Thus, Cindy must manage starting up her bakery, preparing to cater for two weddings, finding time for her boyfriend, and figuring out how not to be forced to wed Justin.
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I Could Blame It On the Corn Mother

culture No Responses »

May 092013

If you know what Hyperbole and a Half is, then all I have to say is: she’s back.

If any of you are still here, then I still heartily recommend you get over there. The post is about depression. You will probably cry. You will almost certainly laugh. It will probably be a good time to do the ritual of your choice thereafter.

Life + Significance

comics, culture, film No Responses »

May 072013

Grant Morrison, the visionary intelligence responsible for revolutionizing the comic book art-form, is described as everything from an “idiot savant loon” to a “forward thinking auteur” in Grant Morrison: Talking With Gods, a documentary about this fascinating and hyper-creative man. The film covers his interest in comic books starting as a kid in Scotland, before following his first published works; the growth of his influence in the comics book field; and the emergence of a relentless and singular ideology which had the effect of changing the world as much as it changed the comic book art form.

He discusses becoming conscious of his image as a comics book creator and cultivating that image, as well as periods of “derangement of the senses” in which he sought out travel and foreign lands; immersion in the dark under-realms of existence; and exploration of mind-altering drugs. The suggestion of a certain brilliant madness starts to emerge in this section: “If I weren’t an artist, I’d probably be institutionalized” is a typical quote.

The mythic relevance that super-heroes hold for Mr. Morrison is a constant throughout the documentary. Early on, someone recalls a conversation with him, discussing Superman in terms of being a “proactive God” who loves every human being unconditionally. Mr. Morrison talks about the “timelessness” of super-heroes, calling them “one of the last great ideas that we have,” and remarking upon his fascination that Superman (who was “having adventures” before Morrison was born) will continue having adventures after Morrison’s death, and upon how reassuring it was is to imagine beings dedicated to stepping into disasters and calamities, and making things right.

As remarkable as it is to reflect upon Mr. Morrison’s discoveries about the importance of self-expression and following one’s visions; making connections with other people’s experiences and ideas; making permeable the “boundary between the real and the possible”; and how bringing one’s ideas into the world will influence other people in ways that seem magical: it is his discussions of magick and magickal experiment that grabbed my attention. The film opens with people talking about Mr. Morrison as a “magical person” who “changed their lives,” and feeling as if they were in the presence of a heroic or divine figure. Early on, Mr. Morrison is talking about his experiences with Chaos Magick and his impression that it produced results in the world. He relays how (at nineteen) he first tried magick “out of a Crowley book,” complete with “ritual banishings and all that stuff.” The results were so immediate and convincing that the young Morrison quickly formed the opinion that “magick was easy: if you ‘do this,’ then things follow,” a sureness of impression that seems never to have left him. He discusses how his belief developed, that magick was about enchanting, and expanding consciousness, and was life-changing, in that it enabled one “to be what one wanted to be.” Interestingly, as he tested it, magick came to appear natural and right to him.

Working with sigils became more and more significant to him, as he found that meditating upon his sigils brought the things that he wanted into his life; eventually, he came to form a belief about being in service to a sort of “hyper Sigil.” He talks about his life in terms of being a mystical process, going into Nature to commune and communicate with the Gods before coming back to work on comic books; having near-”shamanic” experiences with actors dressed as Superman; and finally his conviction that “everything is magick,” and that magick and reality are in fact one and the same.

In understanding a man who is able to change the world by exposing other people to the challenge of his ideas and the impressions of his images, Talking With Gods is a powerful film; in listening to a visionary discuss how magick and the evolution of magickal thinking contributed to this process, this documentary is remarkable. As is put early on in the narrative: Life + Significance = Magick.

Coming Out Pagan

culture No Responses »

May 042013

Thursday evening, a small group of New York Pagans (drawing from the New York Gay Men’s Open Circle and NYC ADF Druids) met in a small park between 14th Street and the West Side Highway, to “come out Pagan” in honor of International Pagan Coming Out Day. Actually, it wasn’t so terribly different from what we generally do: find a greenlands corner of the city and conduct ritual, and it was sort of a plan thrown together at the last minute. We all agreed that with so many Pagans in the Big Apple, and such a variety of Pagan organizations, we could have had a larger turnout with more planning and thinking ahead. (Drummers; we decided we definitely needed drummers. Nothing adds to a Pagan event like drumming.) Satisfied nonetheless, we then walked around the Hudson River and had dinner in a nice West Village restaurant. Pagan Coming Out Day, NYC, 2013.

Next events on the NYC Pagan Community calendar: another march as “Pagans for Gay Rights [Rites]” in the NYC Gay Pride Parade, and then Pagan Pride NYC, in September. Blessed be, Pagans.

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