WEDNESDAY, SEPTEMBER 19, 2007 SHIVER ME TIMBERS
IT'S NATIONAL TALK LIKE A PIRATE DAY
KEEP CAP'N PISSGUMS IN YER HEART
Mad Jane and Crazy Arlene, washed up and washed out pirate molls, are slinking around back of the campground having a drink and a smoke, when it starts to rain. Mad Jane pulls out a rubber, cuts off the end, puts it over her cigarette, and continues smoking.
Crazy Arlene: What in the hell is that?
Mad Jane: A rubber. I don't suppose you ever used one of them.This way my cigarette doesn't get wet.
Crazy Arlene: Where did you get it?
Mad Jane: Pegleg Pete found a shithole of them in the swag.
The next day, Crazy Arlene hobbles herself over to Pegleg Pete's cave and tells him, "Look matey, I needs a box of them rubbers."
Pegleg Pete rubs his gnarly jaw and scowls.. "Arrggh, what's an old hag like you want with those thangs." Then seeing the wild witchy eye opening on her face, says, "okay, okay, what kind do you want? Feelie feelies. Piece of pipe. Ergomaniac?"
"Arrgh. Doesn't matter a fuck to me, Sonny, longs as it fits on a Camel."
THE FUNDRAISER IS OVER
The car is repaired. Sits high and drive and level. The outmoded, wornout, broken rear air suspension ripped out and replaced with regular heavy duty springs. The fund raiser brought in enough money to pay for the repairs and also cover the cost of the website and the domain name for another year.
Undying, unflagging, unfailing thanks to everyone who participated in the fund raiser. One last imploring plea: keep the secret DVD a secret, please. Don't make copies and for durned sure don't post any of it on the internet, otherwise the explosion will be heard all the way from the legal beagles baying at the courthouse doors in lawsuit mavens to hirsute hackers hiding in outhouses toppled across the hinterlands. Nuff said.
With this out of the way, time now for the ol' kapn to pull in his sails, tie up to a lonely reef out of verbal, electronic and telephonic communication with the regular blundering world in order that this wannabee, wouldbe, canbe author once and for all will bring to its gasping end the longest ongoing work of progress known to literary history: forty-five years and counting, his Vietnam novel.
Stay the course.
QUESTIONS FROM ROBERT REGISTER
You & I have been corresponding now for about 10 years.
Now I'd like to axe you some queerstions just like all those students do.
-- Robert Register
What do you remember about the moment this photo was taken?
touchup by John Earl
image courtesy of http://www.lib.virginia.edu/small/exhibits/sixties/kesey.html
The ancestral mansion at last with plumes of red and blue and green smokescreens swirling about the towers and lawns and Cassady calling, "Here's comes the Wiesenheimer," talking about me extolling upon the marvels of the palatial mannerisms but not for long for we had been up too long on the too many furlong miles behind miles to go yak me fast yak me slow and nap upon the lawn and bathe in the creek, under the waterfall, tootle your flute, Highly Visible, go yon to mystery third floor, Sound Man, scratch betwixt the toes, Swash Buckler, tap the ground with your staff not much ryhthm but you gotta dance with em, Intrepid Traveler, contemplate the lovely lass, Equipment Hassler, days are long and many corridors still to explore.
kapnken FRIDAY, SEPTEMBER 7, 2007
Finally, all the bottles and cans from the fourth of july heading out in the old pickup to be distributed to the groups of people hanging out on the streetcorners with signs saying, WILL RETURN BOTTLES FOR MONEY, and what's left over, take to the recycling bins outside the supermarkets and give away the remaining nickel deposit items to the guys and gals redeeeming glass and aluminum for the wherewithal to buy ones that are full up. Fill em up.
WEDNESDAY, SEPTEMBER 5, 2007
Here's the ol' Kapn with his bro, John, on the left, and Matt Sprague, former Oregon wrestler on the right. We're at the Oregon football game this past Saturday, doing our best to bring wrestling back to the university. Some bozo paid the U of O 2.3 million dollars to shitcan the athletic director so the university could hire the bozo, who, , soon as Oregon State our arch rivals won their second college national championship in baseball the second year in a row, decided to bring baseball back to the University of Oregon, but in order to do so, dropped wrestling. Also, in order to comply with title IX, that says women sports have to equal men's sports, the bozo added competitive cheerleading to the sports program. Now when the competitive cheerleading team does its thing, the regular cheerleaders cheer them on.
In another fist of twate, Nike billionaire, Phil Knight, donated 100 million dollars to the athletic department, making the bozo very happy, but not so much so that he'll bring wrestling back. If he did that he'd have to add another women's sports program and he says that isn't possible. Good old blind boys of Oregon. Ah, kwitcherdambelliaken. Too bad Kesey isn't still alive. They'd never have pulled that crap with him around.
MORE ON THE BIGFOOT CAMPOUT BASH
The International Crptozoological Society (Berkeley), formerly
associated with the 1997 Bigfoot Museum in North Beach, will go out to a "hot spot" for Bigfoot in the mountaions near Tahoe,
where they have obtained good photos before, checked by biologists.
The leader, Jon-Erik Beckjord, a filmmaker, an honorary Kesey Merry
Prankster, has invited the other Pranksters still alive to attend, all or part of the days, as well as the SKYPILOTS, an off-shoot of the Pranksters
in SF, In addition, several Venture Scouts troops are considering
coming up from L.A. to joint the ULTIMATE AMERICAN OUTDOOR ADVENTURE. Venture Scouts were formerly known as Explorer Scouts, older Boy Scouts. Beckjord is an Eagle Scout, and former assistant scoutmaster, who was in the honor guard
behind IKE & DICK at their second inaugeration parade. Outsdoorsmen
and skeptics, and press who wish to join, may call 925-385-0422, or email firstname.lastname@example.org Note BIgfoot harms no one, be we do hear humongous
screams and screeches that are not owls nor coyotes and we do get photos of Bigfoot.
We also have a forty-eight foot ketch and catch this: we sail on San Francisco Bay like so:
Yacht - Further Defiance - 48 ft - to go into bay soon
Can take out Pranksters and Skypilots in near future.
Erik Beckjord - 925-385-0422
SUMMER OF LOVE 40TH ANNIVERSARY IN S.F. FOR THE STORY, CLICK ON SOLSF Taj Mahal
TUESDAY, AUGUST 28, 2007 IT WAS 35 YEARS AGO TODAY
DAH G.D. CAME TO THE FIELD TRIP TO PLAY
MONDAY, AUGUST 27, 2007 LUNAR ECLIPSE
I watched some of the lunar eclipse, would have watched more if it wasn't at such an ungodly hour, hard to stay awake at three or four in the AM when you have to get up at six. But, thanks to my oldmannish bladder, I caught it once as the eclipse was coming on, again in full eclipse, all reddish, and again as the eclipse was leaving. Heavenly light show.
FOR MORE, CLICK ON ECLIPSE SUNDAY, AUGUST 26, 2007
Subject: Suggested reunion of Pranksters and Skypilots on camping trip in Sierras.
My name is Erik Beckjord, and I was a cameraman on Keseys'
filming of a movie, "Atlantis Rising" in the 70s at Davenport Beach,
CA near Santa Cruz. KK dubbed me an honorary prankster.for my work and
other stuff. ;-) (I do seek to buy some photos of that event, if any one has any).
I'm interested in seeing more reunions of Pranksters and Skypilots,
and I am inviting them to attend a camping trip in the High Sierras
in a semi-wilderness setting where there is swimming in a pond, campfire rings, and privacy. Sept 6-10 come for all or part...
There is also Bigfoot, which has been heard and photographed there
and seen by people in my research group, the International Cryptozoological Society
There is no fee, and it is bring yer own food and camping gear.
Located near Kit Carson, on route 88,CA between Stockton and Tahoe.
You can park 1/2 mile from site, or take a 4x4 in. Easy.
Your kids may get Bigfoot in their throwaway camera... it does happen.
Pranksters, etc, visiting this area can also crash as my place in Lafayette,
which has a pool.
For directions, call me at 925-385-0422
Erik Beckjord, hon. prankster, (not full time.)
THURSDAY, AUGUST 23, 2007
Yesterday, I did a telephone interview with BBC radio in England. The subject was a poem Alan Ginsberg wrote about the time the Hells Angels came to Kesey's house in La Honda California in December 1965. I recorded my answers to their questions on my computer and when we were done I emailed them the .wav sound files. Took forever but it was a first for me, to not only do the interview but record it myself and then transmit it over the internet. Here's the poem: "First Party at Ken Kesey's With Hells Angels"
Cool black night thru redwoods
cars parked outside in shade
behind the gate, stars dim above
the ravine, a fire burning by the side
porch and a few tired souls hunched over
in black leather jackets. In the huge
wooden house, a yellow chandelier
at 3 A.M. the blast of loudspeakers
hi-fi Rolling Stones Ray Charles Beatles
Jumping Joe Jackson and twenty youths
dancing to the vibration thru the floor,
a little weed in the bathroom, girls in scarlet
tights, one muscular smooth skinned man
sweating dancing for hours, beer cans
bent littering the yard, a hanged man
sculpture dangling from a high creek branch,
children sleeping softly in their bedroom bunks.
And 4 police cars parked outside the painted
gate, red lights revolving in the leaves.
-- Allen Ginsberg, December, 1965
MONDAY, AUGUST 20, 2007
I spoke at a summer school Kesey class at the University of Oregon last week, filling them in on some of our forty three years of haps, also a little historical lore, like the fact Kesey while in high school performed at the McDonald Theater in Eugene when they were still showing movies, doing his magic tricks and ventriliquist act between features at the Saturday matinee. He had a dummy propped on his knee and even later, when we were doing Twister in the 90s, he would lead in to the musical performance with that same dummy. Times when he forgot to bring his dummy along, I would sit on his knee and be the dummy and ask him questions.
Now, I have my own little dummy, name of Hector, and he asks Kesey the questions. Kesey answers, but sometimes the transmission cuts in and out, making the words and meanings garbled, and Kesey himself isn't the old three dimensional self we used to know. Still, what are you gonna do? At this point, as Cassady said, "All you can do is blast. Blasta smashus. Begorgeous and be-gashus."
Can you tell us about your name?
No one ever calls me Kenny, but you can call me Ken E. Kesey, for my middle name is Elton, from my Grandpa Smith.
Can the few beat the evil in society?
Yes, because, "We can count the number of seeds in an apple but not the number of apples in a seed."
That's inscrutable. Can you elaborate?
I could but I'll follow my dad's advice: don't try to unscrew the unscrutable. Here's a clue: we have a secret advantage: we don't fight our battle out of Hate. Hate is the ancient flag of fire and blood and agony, and it waves over the graves of millions and millions.
How do we know when you are pulling our leg ?
I had a sense that what we were doing was important, historically important, in a way that still hasn't been understood or recognized. The Sixties ain't over. They won't be over till the fat lady gets high.
Any last thoughts?
Tell the teacher me mind ain't fried. Maybe boiled but never fried.
Thank you, thank you, Mister Ken E . . . Kesey.