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Righteous Declarations for Humans – Postcard #44

Pod cover - Postcards from Gravelly Beach - Righteous declarations

Part 5 of the White Poppies for Remembrance series continues with Dave at Victory Park, this time reading the United Nations Universal Declaration of Human Rights (adopted by General Assembly Dec. 10th, 1948) with riffs about tolerance, human relations, common understanding, and mutual respect – including a healthy sampling of articles on brotherhood, privacy, special treatment for mothers, plus a commentary about refugee status, and the illegal nature of torture and humiliating treatment.

Then brings it ’round home with a snippet from H.D. Thoreau’s Walden about sovereign man being the origin of the political state while accompanied by lively jazz (via bootleg cassette) featuring Joe Williamson and cohorts in Banff from way back playing about Peace to the Children of our Universe and Common Market offering up replenishing Refresh(ment) live on KEXP.

Declare your rights for: Righteous Declarations for Humans (128k mp3, 13:24, 15MB)

Continue reading Righteous Declarations for Humans – Postcard #44

Errant Gaze (20-something punk)

Blondes in tanktops
they can’t defer
the passion lingering
for my home and her

A healthy meal
a harmonious deal
a sleep-filled night
without a fight

I’d take a chance
if i could
not take the
life i’d made

A subtle glance
might change all the
circumstance
with your halter top
pigtails and
happenstance

Mascara gaze
but not for me
i sigh in mystery
and recollect
these blissful days
long past misery

You could be the
St patty’s day
fling for me
but it ain’t to be
cause i got mine
back at home

Lime green shirt
in enthusiasm
relating tales
of scores and failures
with curly haired friend
past me
in tilted cap
by wobbly chair
makes the time
in my mind
with another blonde

In another time
somewhat shy
just little bit like me
desperate glance

Your swept back hair
leaning into my
uncommon circumstance
me remembering
those bewildering times
scores and conquests
and extra lies

Mysterious Speakeasy in Greenwich Village

I am headed to NYC next month for a biz-ness trip (staying a fancy mid-town hotel shockingly enough) and my amigo out there pointed me to the private stash of all bars boasting a history of runaway slaves, literary heroes, illicit alcohol and haunting poltergeists. I am totally going.

Heck, I even made google map to the secret libation locale (though i’ll probably still have to find the stealthy entrance in the alley).

The bar is up for sale (3.75 million USD in case you are wondering) and the place doesn’t necessarily have a name. ‘Chumley’s‘ or ’86 Bedford’ seem to be the parlance of choice.

Anyhow, here is a snippet from the article 86 Bedford Street in NY Resident magazine by Rachel B. Doyle filling in the pieces of the stories,

Despite the building going on the block, Chumley’s isn’t going anywhere since its lease isn’t up until 2085. Touted as “the oldest speakeasy in the country to retain its original ambiance,” Chumley’s has been around since 1926 —when it was purchased by Leland Stanford Chumley, who remodeled the front of the former blacksmith’s shop with innocuous garage-like doors.

Behind this obscure facade, lay the favorite illicit watering hole of literary luminaries such as F. Scott Fitzgerald, William Faulkner, Jack Kerouac, Norman Mailer, Anaïs Nin, Simone de Beauvoir and J.D. Salinger (before he became a recluse). The original incarnation contained kitchen entrances disguised as bookshelves, two trapdoors to conceal spirits, and a trick staircase designed to foil the police.

“It’s supposed to give the illusion that we’re in a basement, when in reality we’re on street level. It allowed the bartenders some time to clear away alcohol during Prohibition,” said John Lefebvre, a waiter at Chumley’s.

The entrance remains the same as it was in the ‘20s: unmarked and only accessible by a clandestine rear passageway leading from Barrow Street. And Chumley’s will likely never have a sign, as landmark designation restricts anything having to do with physical changes.

A little known fact about 86 Bedford St. is that its seditious reputation actually precedes Prohibition. According to legend, the building was also a refuge for runaway slaves – due in part to it’s proximity to Gay Street, which had a large pre-Civil War era free black community.

“In the floor of the bar there is a trapdoor that lifts up. These same tunnels that may have been used to transport slaves were later used to transport the alcohol into the restaurant during Prohibition,” said Lefebvre, who also just completed a documentary about Chumley’s. “I’m looking right at it.”

While some reviews speak disparagingly about the Chumley’s micro brews (flat and lifeless) and the meat heads (read fratboys) who have found the enclave (to high five in) while others mention the proximity to a firehall which suffered major casualties during the WTC incident or the discussion if this is where the term “getting 86’ed” originated and yet one more talks about the dog patrons – (geez i though it was just Oly’s Eastside Club which allowed dogs) – in a post What’s up with the dogs at Chumley’s?

chumleysfront.jpg

Here’s the door – is there a secret knock?

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Greeks rocking the Hempseed like the Japanese

The unique chunk of knowledge i add to the collective consciousness of all things cannabis is the comprehensive documentation of the practical history of hemp use in Japan.

Much of my research came in field – meaning living with people in the hills (Tottori, Nagano) and learning the oral history from them while harvesting crops (mostly rice) and walking in the hills (mostly in search of matsutake), while other info comes from scouring literature, art and history texts and sometimes it’s just a matter of reflecting new light on a passage from a book or a new interpretation of a cave painting.

In meeting with other hempsters over the years (see HempenRoad photos from Vancouver Commercial Industrial hemp Sympoisum 1998), i’ve found similarities from other cultures in the ways seeds, stalk and leaf were used in traditional ways. This “people’s history” passed along a folklore and custom is often the key to finding out the ways the cultures actually lived rather than the filtered views of the human condition permeated by the propagandists and text book writers. Learn from the Grammas!

Via the quotable Malta-resident, D. Barefoot, I came across a wee reference of the use of hemp seed in ancient Greece in The Histories of Herodotus of Halicarnassus written in 440 BCE.db serves it up his post Herodotus on The Wacky Tabacky with a bit of humour – from which i shall refrain – and instead lay out a couple of translations for the record to set up a bit of juxtaposition between the old-timey Greeks and Japanese.

Here's an old Grandma in the hills of japan

First, the translation Darren offers up (no edition cited):

Now they have a wild hemp in their country like flax, except that the hemp grows taller and stouter by far [goes on to explain how it makes good cloth].

The Scythians, then, take the seed of this hemp, and creeping under the felt covering of the tent they throw the seed on the stones glowing with the heat from the fire, and there it smolders and makes such a steam as no vapour-bath in Greece could surpass, and the steam makes the Scythians howl for joy.

And here is the other translation he references from MIT’s Internet Classics Archive version of The History of Herodotus, this one translated by George Rawlinson [and running a little longer to give some more context]:

Such, then, is the mode in which the kings are buried: as for the people, when any one dies, his nearest of kin lay him upon a waggon and take him round to all his friends in succession: each receives them in turn and entertains them with a banquet, whereat the dead man is served with a portion of all that is set before the others; this is done for forty days, at the end of which time the burial takes place. After the burial, those engaged in it have to purify themselves, which they do in the following way. First they well soap and wash their heads; then, in order to cleanse their bodies, they act as follows: they make a booth by fixing in the ground three sticks inclined towards one another, and stretching around them woollen felts, which they arrange so as to fit as close as possible: inside the booth a dish is placed upon the ground, into which they put a number of red-hot stones, and then add some hemp-seed.

Hemp grows in Scythia: it is very like flax; only that it is a much coarser and taller plant: some grows wild about the country, some is produced by cultivation: the Thracians make garments of it which closely resemble linen; so much so, indeed, that if a person has never seen hemp he is sure to think they are linen, and if he has, unless he is very experienced in such matters, he will not know of which material they are.

The Scythians, as I said, take some of this hemp-seed, and, creeping under the felt coverings, throw it upon the red-hot stones; immediately it smokes, and gives out such a vapour as no Grecian vapour-bath can exceed; the Scyths, delighted, shout for joy, and this vapour serves them instead of a water-bath; for they never by any chance wash their bodies with water. Their women make a mixture of cypress, cedar, and frankincense wood, which they pound into a paste upon a rough piece of stone, adding a little water to it. With this substance, which is of a thick consistency, they plaster their faces all over, and indeed their whole bodies. A sweet odour is thereby imparted to them, and when they take off the plaster on the day following, their skin is clean and glossy.

Going back to Japan, significantly, hemp is used a symbol of purity in various Shinto (the pagan-ish, animistic quasi-religion) rites (i.e. emperor coronations) as well as Buddhist ceremonies (funerals) in Japan – this is not news per se but seems like an eerily similarity of reverence for this plant between the the two cultures – occurring in different areas at different times with no (as far as we know) cultural exchange.

Here’s are a couple of snippet from my research on Hemp Culture in Japan:

In another old tradition, rooms of worship were purified by burning hemp leaves by the entrance. This would invite the spirits of the departed, purify the room and encourage people to dance. An account of this event states: “On the first evening fires of hemp leaves are lighted before the entrance of the house, and incense strewed on the coals, as an invitation to the spirits. At the end of the three days the food that has been set out for the spirits is wrapped up in mats and thrown into a river. Dances of a peculiar kind are a conspicuous feature of the celebration, which is evidently an old Japanese custom.” (Moore).

The Japanese wound paths around their country as they travelled long distances for salt, enlightenment and pilgrimages. In olden times, these wandering pilgrims and traveling believers were obliged to leave an offering of rice and hemp leaves to the path-side phallic-fertility statues of the Sahe no Kami (protective deities) before embarking on a journey.

“These deities were represented by phalli, often of gigantic size, which were set up along highways and especially at cross roads to bar the passage against malignant beings who sought to pass . . . Standing as they did on the roadside and at cross-roads, these gods became the protectors of the wayfarers; travellers prayed to them before setting out on a journey and made a little offering of hemp leaves and rice to each one they passed.” (Moore)

{note: Moore. Religions of Japan by George Foot Moore. 1913. quoted after: http://www.calyx.net/~schaffer/hemp/hemprefs.html}

Japanese Graves

Seems to me the people in times past were no doubt more tuned into the power of plants and indeed went to great lengths to find out what the strengths and sources of the plants were and how they could use these characteristics to enhance their lives (medicine, mediation, clothing, sustenance). Somehow though, these customs grew taboo and this historical plant is singled out as a scourge and much human potential has been squandered on the enforcement against the cultivation and use of recreational, religious and industrial use. Remember, this illicitness is a modern phenomenon.

Did the Greeks know something about tolerance and joy that is lost on the modern world? Were the Japanese onto some ability of the hemp plant that modern world has forgotten? I, wonder. Do you?

Heading to a Book Expo in the Big City (and fiddling with Shelfari)

For the day-job (shilling ecommerce software) I am heading to NYC (paraphrasing Stevie Wonder monologue from “Livin’ for the City” – “New York City, just like i imagined it, … skyscrapers and everythang”) for the world’s biggest book industry trade show. As a book enthusiast and a perennially aspiring writer, i am a wee bit excited despite the myriad tasks to accomplish to make the trip useful for my work.

book expo america

Every dang publisher large, small, micro, foreign, local, topical whatever will be there it seems and i kinda wish i was going there with a manuscript to hustle rather than as a working stiff but perhaps the observance the goings-on will remove some of the mystery shroud i keep holding up around the unholy alliance of commerce and art.

Just poking around the list of exhibitors and attendees, there a million little presses publishing literary works which i have never heard of – and they seem to be helping their writers to succeed. Is this possible or i am mental? Both are likely but regardless, I will plan to outreach and educate myself and perhaps pursue publishing my massive collection of this and thats once i know a little more how the game works – shoot i don’t even know how to get an ISBN because i don’t care, i just wanna write, but to do that i need to time and space resultant (crassly enough) from ugh … money.

Good news is, I sold three essay articles last year at (who hoo @ .20 cents a word) 2 were lead stories plus scoured up some mainsream media coverage about my podcast projects. And managed to get back rolling with writing freeverse which i lost my voice for a bit while writing expository works, case studies, business docs, press releases etc.

Next up, giving Letters from Russia (.pdf) an edit in preperation to pass around to get some distribution to the peace loving peeps of the world and then get back to work on my longer pieces which i draft, start, outline, think about, fiddle with, scribble on but never really bear down cause (admission following) i am always waiting for a 6 month sojourn in a quiet cabin with beverages, hot springs and bird signing – which may not happen for some time.

Anyhow, this books expo deal … the conference director Lance Festerman is blogging and they are even putting out a Book Expo podcast and started a BEA Shelfari group.

Gravelly Beach on Shelfari

You may know that I love my books and my bookshelf and use the both the arrangement and the contents as a motivational starting point. Shelfari allows group and community interaction based on the books you put upon your virtual shelf. The usability is very nice and brisk. I signed up a while back but did not do anything with it but now invite you to stop by and visit Gravelly Beach on Shelfari if’ ya wanna interact on books and such.

Behind the Scenes with Crazy Canucks on Get Connected on CKNW

The Crazy Canucks crew (well, John, Rebecca, Dave) were guests on GetConnected Radio on CKNW (Chorus Radio Network or whatever) a week or two ago. While there, John set his recorder on the table to capture the between the takes banter with hosts Mike and Yolanda talking with us about the technical and creative backstory of making podcasts and publishing them out to the people. You can even hear Mike “hitting the button” in the 21st floor studio on a beauty Vancouver Saturday in the midst of playoff mania.

This raw segment is published with an intro by John as:
TCC#35 – The Crazy Canucks GetConnected interview

Or for your convenience, grab is here:
Crazy Canucks on CKNW
(24:38, .mp3)


photo by Drew Olson on Miss 604’s photostream

Read more:

Miss 604 – Get Connected With The Crazy Canucks

Audi Hertz – On the radio to talk about podcasting with GetConnected

Dave O talks to Mike on Get Connected

CKNW's dog
photos from Miss 604’s photostream

Pondering Flanders at the Cenotaph – Postcard #43

Finding Victory Square in post-ceremony calm, Dave settles onto a bench for lost sailors with some bagpipers to chat about John Macrae’s “Flander’s Field” poem and mull the tension between remembering noble effort and embracing jingoistic behaviour. This conundrum is evident in snippets of an essay by Stephen Osborne – The Poem and the Poppy – which relates the amazing grace of drinking gin with Gramps who was there – ‘in the void.’

Take a seat for: Pondering Flanders at the Cenotaph – Postcard#43 (.mp3, 16:14, 19MB)

Continue reading Pondering Flanders at the Cenotaph – Postcard #43