King Warrior Magician Lover

archetypal
masculine shadow systems

connected to real life/pop culture

is revealing - even entertaining

Carl Jung was way ahead of his time 
still is

ok, look at "the Governor" 
in the TV series/books, "The Walking Dead"

deeply mysterious 
he envelopes all aspects of the masculine psyche 
in searing detail
in and out of the light

in and out of the shadows




King Warrior Magician Lover
 

yes, that character, Brian Blake (aka Governor) makes the series pertinent
because he is relevant

 just a man, human 

complex and most tactile, almost accessible
triggering all the feminine hormones 
because he's so beautiful to look at 
and just far enough out of reach

fighting a common cause

and yet disturbed

things happen

when we're faced with a life or death scenerio
surrounded by zombies who want
to eat us for breakfast
making us one too

i'm fascinated
by this 

"walkers" - "biters" - "adversaries"

doesn't matter

these paradox's, allegories, juxtapositions
and childhood fables measure up
there's a bitter cold wind swirling
outside - and i miss you 
Daddy

good and evil
come delivered on multiple platforms/formats
let's just say that desperate measures
are sometimes required and

it brings out the best and worst in us

either way 

have another cognac
my friend

there is much to discuss

Brian Blake is beautiful for that very reason

because he's real - the driven antagonist

deeply moved in his quest for absolution

and yet utterly lost

disconnected 

embracing all aspects in all 4 quadrants

in real time - and before us

asking the question

who are you

what are you

?

ok, the masculine psyche is complex

and yet painfully simple at the same time

example; we see a beautiful hot girl

stunning face, amazing body/hair etc

then comes the familiar tsunami of arousal

lightning bolts forming into a congressional hearing

in our loins

only the bill is passed in a split second

our hunter, gatherer instincts kick in

and we seek immediate closure 

at all cost 

then - we see our daughters/mothers eyes in her

 and in a sudden flash and it all changes

we grow up.  how is that possible - every once in a while ...

we have a vision

something more important

than a delicious romp

in the flesh - perhaps 

it's an operating system in an antiquated technology

transforming it into a whole new discovery

allowing me to deliver this to you

just the way i want to

right here and now

sometimes, the unthinkable happens

we dissolve, surrender

beautiful actually

some men get it

most don't 

some create

some destroy

"hey baby - come here

i got big plans for you"

we men are fundamentally bipolar

in our gender rendering

granted some have learned

to seamlessly integrate our feminine natures

into our daily lives without the repercussions,

without the damaging homophobia

and all the ramifications

exposed in chaos

i'm still trying to figure it all out myself

it's really convoluted and yet

fun still

King Warrior Magician Lover

 

i see the masculine shadow system

daily in many way shapes/forms

and have learned to appreciate

all of them

all dimensions, all re-incarnations/refurbished restorations sold for 1/3 less

Daddy?  you still RULE dude!

on behalf of all men on the planet

just be patient - please

oK

I've had my "come to Jesus" moment here

I'm doing 2 whole hours a day in the gym now

and i haven't smoked crack in a solid month

I'm a whole new man

speaking of "solid"

have a look at what I got going on down here

(subtle wink)

some things just don't get any better

than this

"if you are the desert
i'll be the sea
if you ever hunger
hunger for me
whatever you ask for
that's what i'll be"

valedictory

i'm a hero ...


oK ... In 1970, I was 13 and in a secret vote in grade 8, I was chosen to speak on behalf of my graduating class at Centennial Central School, in Comber Ontario.  It came out of nowhere, and I was READY!  Bring it ON!

v a l e d i c t o r y

What's odd thinking back, was that I was no where near the having the highest marks ... narrowing it down to 3 choices - the smartest boy, the smartest girl and me (for some reason).  I wasn't even that popular - an outcast perhaps.  Someone who could speak up for those less fortunate.   A friend of mine said that it was a unanimous vote for me (having broken the rules and peeked) - the teacher asking the students to bow their heads down on our desks and raise our hands for the one they wanted to speak for them at our graduating ceremony - calling out the contestants names and counting the votes ... and the winner is ...

v a l e d i c t o r y

 

I went home that night, rather stunned and told my dad that I had been chosen to give the class speech in 2 weeks, to an auditorium full of parents, teachers and our graduating class in a celebration of our terms end, telling my dad that I was nervous and might need his help/assistance with the address.  Dad wrote my speech for me.  It was like there were no options in the matter.

You see;  I lived in an extremely repressed world back then.  I was in an empty environment under the virulent control of my Dad who basically told me that he would be writing his sermon (on my behalf).   This is it here (below) ...  

I remember my Dad toiling over it - chipping carbon copies into an ancient typewriter with multiple versions of the tenuous text - before arriving at his masterpiece while I listened to Deep Purple on my cassette player in my bedroom - wondering what it would look/read like. 

and so the eventful evening arrived.

I was summoned early in the proceedings.  Mrs. McConnell in exclamation ... "And now a word from our graduating class Valedictorian - Jimmy Lamarche".   Joyous jubilation in much anticipation.  Waiting in the side-lines and feeling what adult perspiration was like for the first time.  Dressed in a suit and tie, my hair combed to perfection hard-gelled with sticky vaseline, walking up the platform stairs in shoes that hurt my feet because they were way too small, shivering and shaking ... pulling out my scripted script  and Dad's words (not mine) ...

(here goes nothing) ...



PARENTS, MR. ATTRIDGE, MRS. McCONNELL, FELLOW STUDENTS:

For generations, elementary education has often been referred to as THE THREE R's … Readin' … Ritin' … AND Rithmetic.

As the school terms have passed behind me I have become convinced that this reference might very well be outdated; and possibly now we should consider changing this saying to THE FOUR R's !!!  Through guidance at home, and during my fascinating trip from Kindergarten through grade eight, I have become increasingly aware that for all students … and for all civilized people, the FOURTH "R" stands for RULES !!

From the minute we wake up in the morning, until we are sound asleep at night … at home, and at school, our existence is determined by an impressive array of RULES; many of which sometimes seem unimportant … others may be even MORE important than the original three "R's".  Most privileges in this world, it sees to me, are only available to the people who are willing to pay for them through RESPONSIBILITY.  In other words, we are being asked to PLAY THE GAME; and all games have RULES.



 

Let us not lose sight of the obvious privileges which have surrounded us, especially here at this modern, well-equipped, and well-staffed school.  The years we have been privileged to spend here have given us the stepping stone to what  CAN be a truly wonderful future; and I feel that we should never forget that our excellent education to this point in our lives would never have been possible … WITHOUT RULES!!

Every responsible person connected with our school … This one, and the schools in our future, has a set of RULES or guide-lines which must be followed.  The members of the School Board; our principal; our teachers; our students, and our parents must accept these rules and abide by them … otherwise, the entire undertaking would have long since fallen apart in confusion and failure.

… RULES WILL ALWAYS be with us !!!

Many times we may believe that some rules are too strict … or unnecessary altogether.  However, I have learned that when this thought crosses our minds, we should PUT ON THE BRAKES for an instant … stop … and remind ourselves that rules were not made to be broken, as some would have us believe.  Let's be honest with ourselves, and those around us.  Let's face up to the responsibility of that FOURTH "R" as we move from this stepping stone up to the next … and the next is higher education.  As long as we PLAY THE GAME, I'm sure that our chances of success, happiness, and even survival are very high indeed!!!

I am honoured to have this opportunity to say a few words on behalf of the graduating Grade Eight students of Centennial Central School.  I know that I speak for all of them when I say to you, that we are grateful for the faith which has been placed in us; allowing us to continue our search for knowledge past Grade Eight.  This search is becoming so very important in these rapidly changing times.

We thank the members of the school board;  Mr. Attridge;  every teacher and our parents for abiding by their responsibilities;  making and living by the rules !!!  This has made our progress possible.  We sincerely thank you all for your wisdom and your guidance and for your patience with us.

You have played the game very well!  You have passed the ball to us.  We shall honestly try to carry it safely into the end zone.

June 25, 1970
Centennial Central School, Comber Ontario



 and so ...

What I vividly remember, is finishing my speech to a resounding silence - standing there in a botched, bewildered trance - facing the vacant crowd - clearly not knowing what to think of - what was THAT?  After a few long tortuous seconds there was a single clap, followed by a well choreographed second, third - then the room.  I was embarrassed - humiliated.

v a l e d i c t o r y

Honestly, in that moment ... I was shitting my pants because Dad's speech was garbage and it was almost like everyone knew that I didn't write this and that it was written for me - likely by my father (who else)?  Brutal.  I crawled off the stage like a wounded weasel unknowing of my real future despite the rhetoric and none of my class-mates talked to me for the rest of the festivities.  I wondered why back then sitting alone in the back of the gym - ribbons and balloons (my dad gone).  wondering ... what to do. 

I wrote this piece of music (gone forever) 23 years later in a dream on Westminster Ave in Parkdale Toronto ... waking suddenly and going to my studio at 4am and quietly recording it in about an hour.   It reminds me of that eerie evening in Comber Ontario decades earlier.

Better late than never.  I'm finding that the most redeeming works of art are all too often conceived in a few short moments - like this was.  Oh and one thing I've learned since ...  

rules kill