Why would Jan Kounen, director of “Dobermann,” want to do a documentary on Shipibo Shamanism?

My film “Dobermann” allowed me to express my visceral anti-establishment convictions with a joy usually reserved for bad, little kids. After that, I started thinking that the time had come for me to examine the reality of what has so far been my joyfully chaotic existence and to ponder my place in the universe‚Ķ

Where would I begin ?
Boxed in by our senses, we only see a single dimension of reality. Our eyes only allow us to perceive a minor part of the light’s reflection of the specter of what matter truly is. Our other senses restrict us in exactly the same ways.
I’ve always held the conviction that other dimensions exist, and that our brains and our central nervous systems function as filters for our consciousness. These filters are necessary to grasp the material world, but their makeup is all too often weighed down by cultural, moral and scientific doctrines that provide us with a much too limited image of the Universe.
So I was continuously plagued by the question: “Can we tear away the veil, just for one second?”

Shamanism
With the exception of Buddhism and the Tibetan Dzogtchen tradition, which include terribly constraining techniques, current religions offer little in the way of approaching the “Invisible.”
So I then delved into reading the scriptures by the mystics.
Along the way, I came across Shamanism.
As I read their scriptures, I came to learn about the lives of these men, these Shamans who use plants, meditation, chants and rituals to journey into the Invisible. In contrast to what I had read previously, I learned that Shamans do not provide answers. All they do is record their observations and, based on their own experiences, establish their belief systems. Their role is simply to guide souls on their own, personal quests.

Our Western sensibilities tend to make most of us scoff at Shamans or to consider them with fear or amusement. They are nothing more than witch doctors who use powerful drugs to induce trances, and can not function in reality. Despite all this, I set out to meet them in Mexico. High up in the sierra, I sought out the Huichol Indians, widely known for their active Shamanism and its sources which go back several thousand years.
This gave me the opportunity to frequent Shamans and share their peyote ritual.
This initial experience left me disturbed, but unsatisfied.
We had not bonded on a personal level.
So I set out again. This time I went to the jungles of Peru, where a powerful form of Shamanism exists, using the sacred plant, called the “soul’s creeper.” Following several encounters and experiences with “curanderos” (healers) and “brujos” (witch doctors), I met “Questembetsa.”

Shipibo-Conibos
Questembetsa is a Shipibo-Conibo Shaman, who enabled me to experience Shamanism from the inside. There are 45,000 Shipibo Conibos living together along the Amazon River in Peru. Questembetsa is the spiritual guide of all Shipibo Conibos. He is the Master Shaman who trains all of his people’s Shamans. Questembetsa enabled us to film a summer solstice ceremony, which lasted for three days and three nights. This traditional celebration has never been recorded on film, and justly so. It has not occurred for 70 years and has obviously been seen by very few “non-Indians.”
Using night-vision cameras, we were able to immortalize the shots of these unique moments.

Under Questembetsa’s protective watch, I participated in ceremonies and experienced what can be characterized as a “near death experience.” For me, this was a powerful consciousness experience, where I crossed over, to the other side of the mirror. Once my initiation began, it would continue for over a year. Having experienced this journey of initiation and learning, I am now able to speak about Shamanism.

A consciousness technology
Conceptual thinking is a limited tool when one truly attempts to develop one’s consciousness.
Indeed, human consciousness has a natural tendency to identify with thoughts and reason – stopping there. Shamans use a technology or an outside element, generally consisting of sacred plants. Using powerful psychotropic substances, the Shamans guide individuals, enabling them to “peel away” consciousness from thoughts and reason. The subconscious is gradually unveiled. During these experiences, a different reality appears and is observed through the prism of our consciousness.
Are we remembering who we are, or are we simply discovering who we are?
Without words, this reality is sometimes expressed through terror, suffering and tears. At times it comes in the form of beauty and tears of joy inspired by the magic.
It comes from within one’s being, in the form of archetype images.
Each and everyone’s personal history and culture individually determine this reality.

We all share a universal mythology, which serves as a source for the visions.
Each and every one of us is an infinite universe, where angels and demons make up our thoughts, emotions, memory and our body. My journey deep into the jungle continued when I met scientists from the “Aton Institute” in Norway. The Aton Institute studies consciousness, quantum physics and the molecular chemistry of sacred plants as well as past civilizations.

Sacred plants or drugs ?
Psychotropics are drugs or narcotics. In our culture, the word “narcotic” is synonymous with decadence. In past civilizations such as the Incas or the Egyptians, these hallucinogenic plants were considered instruments of knowledge, magic plants or “master plants.”
Scientists agree and have demonstrated through modeling that the key lies in the DNA, genetic programming, the pineal gland or the famous “third eye,” located between the brain’s hemispheres. They believe that the molecules of the Ayahuasca plant are a molecular nano-technology that activates the consciousness. Angels and demons are the archetype contacts with the negative and positive encoding of our DNA. Presently, Shamans know how to use the Ayahuasca plants. The Shamans consider these plants as instruments made available by the Universe for men to be able to pass through the Invisible and enter into contact with the Universe.

Developments for the documentary

This documentary film will be the testimony of a personal and subjective adventure. It will also show the dangers and risks involved in Shamanism: (1) losing yourself in the light or the darkness of your recently awakened emotions or (2) misinterpreting the feelings or visions. This could lead to schizophrenia in the event these journeys not be guided by competent Shamans or compliant with an unyielding discipline and strict diet.

The film will primarily show the therapeutic power of the Shamans and their plants. This power is a type of ancestral psychoanalysis or human psychotherapy backed by 4,000 years of experience and practice.
The film will allow the Shamans to speak for themselves. It will show how their cultures and their belief systems culminate from their knowledge of the Invisible.
CGI sequences will reproduce the power of the recurring visions and the unfolding of the poetic story I witnessed. We will also convey the humor and terror I felt while experiencing these visions. The film will include investigative interviews with therapists, ethnologists and specialists in molecular brain chemistry. In the interest of understanding the invisible interaction between a Shaman and a “novice,” we will record the brain-wave interaction between Questembetsa and myself during a ceremony this spring. This will enable us to identify them and study their meaning.
Finally, the December 1999 interviews, with Western individuals in therapy, will be repeated. Over a year later, we will compare the results of these two sets of interviews.
My personal experience will be told on the parallel of selective testimony, somewhere between Western science and Indian therapy.

Only recently has Western culture reluctantly come to recognize that Tibetan Buddhism has garnered knowledge of the spirit. The objective of this documentary is to impress upon viewers that these little-known Indians developed veritable cognitive technology through their own sciences of the spirit, thousands of years ago. To me, these men are warriors in the battle to unlock the mysteries of consciousness. Shamans consider the greatest ally and the worst enemy of every individual to be one and the same‚Ķ himself or herself. In conclusion, I personally guarantee this film will not turn out to be a new age Sermon on these Indians and their culture. All “Other worlds” are not worlds of light‚Ķ

Jan Kounen

From Rolling Stone:

The Long Emergency

What’s going to happen as we start running out of cheap gas to guzzle?

By JAMES HOWARD KUNSTLER

A few weeks ago, the price of oil ratcheted above fifty-five dollars a barrel, which is about twenty dollars a barrel more than a year ago. The next day, the oil story was buried on page six of the New York Times business section. Apparently, the price of oil is not considered significant news, even when it goes up five bucks a barrel in the span of ten days. That same day, the stock market shot up more than a hundred points because, CNN said, government data showed no signs of inflation. Note to clueless nation: Call planet Earth.

Carl Jung, one of the fathers of psychology, famously remarked that “people cannot stand too much reality.” What you’re about to read may challenge your assumptions about the kind of world we live in, and especially the kind of world into which events are propelling us. We are in for a rough ride through uncharted territory.

It has been very hard for Americans — lost in dark raptures of nonstop infotainment, recreational shopping and compulsive motoring — to make sense of the gathering forces that will fundamentally alter the terms of everyday life in our technological society. Even after the terrorist attacks of 9/11, America is still sleepwalking into the future. I call this coming time the Long Emergency.

Most immediately we face the end of the cheap-fossil-fuel era. It is no exaggeration to state that reliable supplies of cheap oil and natural gas underlie everything we identify as the necessities of modern life — not to mention all of its comforts and luxuries: central heating, air conditioning, cars, airplanes, electric lights, inexpensive clothing, recorded music, movies, hip-replacement surgery, national defense — you name it.

The few Americans who are even aware that there is a gathering global-energy predicament usually misunderstand the core of the argument. That argument states that we don’t have to run out of oil to start having severe problems with industrial civilization and its dependent systems. We only have to slip over the all-time production peak and begin a slide down the arc of steady depletion.

The term “global oil-production peak” means that a turning point will come when the world produces the most oil it will ever produce in a given year and, after that, yearly production will inexorably decline. It is usually represented graphically in a bell curve. The peak is the top of the curve, the halfway point of the world’s all-time total endowment, meaning half the world’s oil will be left. That seems like a lot of oil, and it is, but there’s a big catch: It’s the half that is much more difficult to extract, far more costly to get, of much poorer quality and located mostly in places where the people hate us. A substantial amount of it will never be extracted.

The United States passed its own oil peak — about 11 million barrels a day — in 1970, and since then production has dropped steadily. In 2004 it ran just above 5 million barrels a day (we get a tad more from natural-gas condensates). Yet we consume roughly 20 million barrels a day now. That means we have to import about two-thirds of our oil, and the ratio will continue to worsen.

The U.S. peak in 1970 brought on a portentous change in geoeconomic power. Within a few years, foreign producers, chiefly OPEC, were setting the price of oil, and this in turn led to the oil crises of the 1970s. In response, frantic development of non-OPEC oil, especially the North Sea fields of England and Norway, essentially saved the West’s ass for about two decades. Since 1999, these fields have entered depletion. Meanwhile, worldwide discovery of new oil has steadily declined to insignificant levels in 2003 and 2004.

Some “cornucopians” claim that the Earth has something like a creamy nougat center of “abiotic” oil that will naturally replenish the great oil fields of the world. The facts speak differently. There has been no replacement whatsoever of oil already extracted from the fields of America or any other place.

Now we are faced with the global oil-production peak. The best estimates of when this will actually happen have been somewhere between now and 2010. In 2004, however, after demand from burgeoning China and India shot up, and revelations that Shell Oil wildly misstated its reserves, and Saudi Arabia proved incapable of goosing up its production despite promises to do so, the most knowledgeable experts revised their predictions and now concur that 2005 is apt to be the year of all-time global peak production.

It will change everything about how we live.

To aggravate matters, American natural-gas production is also declining, at five percent a year, despite frenetic new drilling, and with the potential of much steeper declines ahead. Because of the oil crises of the 1970s, the nuclear-plant disasters at Three Mile Island and Chernobyl and the acid-rain problem, the U.S. chose to make gas its first choice for electric-power generation. The result was that just about every power plant built after 1980 has to run on gas. Half the homes in America are heated with gas. To further complicate matters, gas isn’t easy to import. Here in North America, it is distributed through a vast pipeline network. Gas imported from overseas would have to be compressed at minus-260 degrees Fahrenheit in pressurized tanker ships and unloaded (re-gasified) at special terminals, of which few exist in America. Moreover, the first attempts to site new terminals have met furious opposition because they are such ripe targets for terrorism.

Some other things about the global energy predicament are poorly understood by the public and even our leaders. This is going to be a permanent energy crisis, and these energy problems will synergize with the disruptions of climate change, epidemic disease and population overshoot to produce higher orders of trouble.

We will have to accommodate ourselves to fundamentally changed conditions.

No combination of alternative fuels will allow us to run American life the way we have been used to running it, or even a substantial fraction of it. The wonders of steady technological progress achieved through the reign of cheap oil have lulled us into a kind of Jiminy Cricket syndrome, leading many Americans to believe that anything we wish for hard enough will come true. These days, even people who ought to know better are wishing ardently for a seamless transition from fossil fuels to their putative replacements.

The widely touted “hydrogen economy” is a particularly cruel hoax. We are not going to replace the U.S. automobile and truck fleet with vehicles run on fuel cells. For one thing, the current generation of fuel cells is largely designed to run on hydrogen obtained from natural gas. The other way to get hydrogen in the quantities wished for would be electrolysis of water using power from hundreds of nuclear plants. Apart from the dim prospect of our building that many nuclear plants soon enough, there are also numerous severe problems with hydrogen’s nature as an element that present forbidding obstacles to its use as a replacement for oil and gas, especially in storage and transport.

Wishful notions about rescuing our way of life with “renewables” are also unrealistic. Solar-electric systems and wind turbines face not only the enormous problem of scale but the fact that the components require substantial amounts of energy to manufacture and the probability that they can’t be manufactured at all without the underlying support platform of a fossil-fuel economy. We will surely use solar and wind technology to generate some electricity for a period ahead but probably at a very local and small scale.

Virtually all “biomass” schemes for using plants to create liquid fuels cannot be scaled up to even a fraction of the level at which things are currently run. What’s more, these schemes are predicated on using oil and gas “inputs” (fertilizers, weed-killers) to grow the biomass crops that would be converted into ethanol or bio-diesel fuels. This is a net energy loser — you might as well just burn the inputs and not bother with the biomass products. Proposals to distill trash and waste into oil by means of thermal depolymerization depend on the huge waste stream produced by a cheap oil and gas economy in the first place.

Coal is far less versatile than oil and gas, extant in less abundant supplies than many people assume and fraught with huge ecological drawbacks — as a contributor to greenhouse “global warming” gases and many health and toxicity issues ranging from widespread mercury poisoning to acid rain. You can make synthetic oil from coal, but the only time this was tried on a large scale was by the Nazis under wartime conditions, using impressive amounts of slave labor.

If we wish to keep the lights on in America after 2020, we may indeed have to resort to nuclear power, with all its practical problems and eco-conundrums. Under optimal conditions, it could take ten years to get a new generation of nuclear power plants into operation, and the price may be beyond our means. Uranium is also a resource in finite supply. We are no closer to the more difficult project of atomic fusion, by the way, than we were in the 1970s.

The upshot of all this is that we are entering a historical period of potentially great instability, turbulence and hardship. Obviously, geopolitical maneuvering around the world’s richest energy regions has already led to war and promises more international military conflict. Since the Middle East contains two-thirds of the world’s remaining oil supplies, the U.S. has attempted desperately to stabilize the region by, in effect, opening a big police station in Iraq. The intent was not just to secure Iraq’s oil but to modify and influence the behavior of neighboring states around the Persian Gulf, especially Iran and Saudi Arabia. The results have been far from entirely positive, and our future prospects in that part of the world are not something we can feel altogether confident about.

And then there is the issue of China, which, in 2004, became the world’s second-greatest consumer of oil, surpassing Japan. China’s surging industrial growth has made it increasingly dependent on the imports we are counting on. If China wanted to, it could easily walk into some of these places — the Middle East, former Soviet republics in central Asia — and extend its hegemony by force. Is America prepared to contest for this oil in an Asian land war with the Chinese army? I doubt it. Nor can the U.S. military occupy regions of the Eastern Hemisphere indefinitely, or hope to secure either the terrain or the oil infrastructure of one distant, unfriendly country after another. A likely scenario is that the U.S. could exhaust and bankrupt itself trying to do this, and be forced to withdraw back into our own hemisphere, having lost access to most of the world’s remaining oil in the process.

We know that our national leaders are hardly uninformed about this predicament. President George W. Bush has been briefed on the dangers of the oil-peak situation as long ago as before the 2000 election and repeatedly since then. In March, the Department of Energy released a report that officially acknowledges for the first time that peak oil is for real and states plainly that “the world has never faced a problem like this. Without massive mitigation more than a decade before the fact, the problem will be pervasive and will not be temporary.”

Most of all, the Long Emergency will require us to make other arrangements for the way we live in the United States. America is in a special predicament due to a set of unfortunate choices we made as a society in the twentieth century. Perhaps the worst was to let our towns and cities rot away and to replace them with suburbia, which had the additional side effect of trashing a lot of the best farmland in America. Suburbia will come to be regarded as the greatest misallocation of resources in the history of the world. It has a tragic destiny. The psychology of previous investment suggests that we will defend our drive-in utopia long after it has become a terrible liability.

Before long, the suburbs will fail us in practical terms. We made the ongoing development of housing subdivisions, highway strips, fried-food shacks and shopping malls the basis of our economy, and when we have to stop making more of those things, the bottom will fall out.

The circumstances of the Long Emergency will require us to downscale and re-scale virtually everything we do and how we do it, from the kind of communities we physically inhabit to the way we grow our food to the way we work and trade the products of our work. Our lives will become profoundly and intensely local. Daily life will be far less about mobility and much more about staying where you are. Anything organized on the large scale, whether it is government or a corporate business enterprise such as Wal-Mart, will wither as the cheap energy props that support bigness fall away. The turbulence of the Long Emergency will produce a lot of economic losers, and many of these will be members of an angry and aggrieved former middle class.

Food production is going to be an enormous problem in the Long Emergency. As industrial agriculture fails due to a scarcity of oil- and gas-based inputs, we will certainly have to grow more of our food closer to where we live, and do it on a smaller scale. The American economy of the mid-twenty-first century may actually center on agriculture, not information, not high tech, not “services” like real estate sales or hawking cheeseburgers to tourists. Farming. This is no doubt a startling, radical idea, and it raises extremely difficult questions about the reallocation of land and the nature of work. The relentless subdividing of land in the late twentieth century has destroyed the contiguity and integrity of the rural landscape in most places. The process of readjustment is apt to be disorderly and improvisational. Food production will necessarily be much more labor-intensive than it has been for decades. We can anticipate the re-formation of a native-born American farm-laboring class. It will be composed largely of the aforementioned economic losers who had to relinquish their grip on the American dream. These masses of disentitled people may enter into quasi-feudal social relations with those who own land in exchange for food and physical security. But their sense of grievance will remain fresh, and if mistreated they may simply seize that land.

The way that commerce is currently organized in America will not survive far into the Long Emergency. Wal-Mart’s “warehouse on wheels” won’t be such a bargain in a non-cheap-oil economy. The national chain stores’ 12,000-mile manufacturing supply lines could easily be interrupted by military contests over oil and by internal conflict in the nations that have been supplying us with ultra-cheap manufactured goods, because they, too, will be struggling with similar issues of energy famine and all the disorders that go with it.

As these things occur, America will have to make other arrangements for the manufacture, distribution and sale of ordinary goods. They will probably be made on a “cottage industry” basis rather than the factory system we once had, since the scale of available energy will be much lower — and we are not going to replay the twentieth century. Tens of thousands of the common products we enjoy today, from paints to pharmaceuticals, are made out of oil. They will become increasingly scarce or unavailable. The selling of things will have to be reorganized at the local scale. It will have to be based on moving merchandise shorter distances. It is almost certain to result in higher costs for the things we buy and far fewer choices.

The automobile will be a diminished presence in our lives, to say the least. With gasoline in short supply, not to mention tax revenue, our roads will surely suffer. The interstate highway system is more delicate than the public realizes. If the “level of service” (as traffic engineers call it) is not maintained to the highest degree, problems multiply and escalate quickly. The system does not tolerate partial failure. The interstates are either in excellent condition, or they quickly fall apart.

America today has a railroad system that the Bulgarians would be ashamed of. Neither of the two major presidential candidates in 2004 mentioned railroads, but if we don’t refurbish our rail system, then there may be no long-range travel or transport of goods at all a few decades from now. The commercial aviation industry, already on its knees financially, is likely to vanish. The sheer cost of maintaining gigantic airports may not justify the operation of a much-reduced air-travel fleet. Railroads are far more energy efficient than cars, trucks or airplanes, and they can be run on anything from wood to electricity. The rail-bed infrastructure is also far more economical to maintain than our highway network.

The successful regions in the twenty-first century will be the ones surrounded by viable farming hinterlands that can reconstitute locally sustainable economies on an armature of civic cohesion. Small towns and smaller cities have better prospects than the big cities, which will probably have to contract substantially. The process will be painful and tumultuous. In many American cities, such as Cleveland, Detroit and St. Louis, that process is already well advanced. Others have further to fall. New York and Chicago face extraordinary difficulties, being oversupplied with gigantic buildings out of scale with the reality of declining energy supplies. Their former agricultural hinterlands have long been paved over. They will be encysted in a surrounding fabric of necrotic suburbia that will only amplify and reinforce the cities’ problems. Still, our cities occupy important sites. Some kind of urban entities will exist where they are in the future, but probably not the colossi of twentieth-century industrialism.

Some regions of the country will do better than others in the Long Emergency. The Southwest will suffer in proportion to the degree that it prospered during the cheap-oil blowout of the late twentieth century. I predict that Sunbelt states like Arizona and Nevada will become significantly depopulated, since the region will be short of water as well as gasoline and natural gas. Imagine Phoenix without cheap air conditioning.

I’m not optimistic about the Southeast, either, for different reasons. I think it will be subject to substantial levels of violence as the grievances of the formerly middle class boil over and collide with the delusions of Pentecostal Christian extremism. The latent encoded behavior of Southern culture includes an outsized notion of individualism and the belief that firearms ought to be used in the defense of it. This is a poor recipe for civic cohesion.

The Mountain States and Great Plains will face an array of problems, from poor farming potential to water shortages to population loss. The Pacific Northwest, New England and the Upper Midwest have somewhat better prospects. I regard them as less likely to fall into lawlessness, anarchy or despotism and more likely to salvage the bits and pieces of our best social traditions and keep them in operation at some level.

These are daunting and even dreadful prospects. The Long Emergency is going to be a tremendous trauma for the human race. We will not believe that this is happening to us, that 200 years of modernity can be brought to its knees by a world-wide power shortage. The survivors will have to cultivate a religion of hope — that is, a deep and comprehensive belief that humanity is worth carrying on. If there is any positive side to stark changes coming our way, it may be in the benefits of close communal relations, of having to really work intimately (and physically) with our neighbors, to be part of an enterprise that really matters and to be fully engaged in meaningful social enactments instead of being merely entertained to avoid boredom. Years from now, when we hear singing at all, we will hear ourselves, and we will sing with our whole hearts.

Adapted from The Long Emergency, 2005, by James Howard Kunstler, and reprinted with permission of the publisher, Grove/Atlantic, Inc.

COURTESY MERRICK!

Officials Ask Why Iraq Details Surface Now
By THE ASSOCIATED PRESS

Published: April 6, 2005

Filed at 8:27 p.m. ET

WASHINGTON (AP) — The CIA and members of Congress said they want to know how a presidential commission unearthed details on intelligence failures about Iraq’s prewar weapons programs that previous investigations missed.

Of particular interest is information that emerged in last week’s report about how doubts were handled regarding a leading source on Saddam Hussein’s alleged mobile biological weapons labs — an Iraqi scientist who defected to Germany, code named “Curveball.”

Porter Goss, who became CIA director last September, has instructed officials to determine what happened and why the details did not come to light earlier, said his spokeswoman, Jennifer Millerwise.

“It was an unhappy surprise to the director that his first understanding of this issue was when he first read” the commission’s report, Millerwise said Wednesday.

Senate Intelligence Chairman Pat Roberts, R-Kan., also acknowledged President Bush’s intelligence commission had details that did not emerge during his committee’s yearlong investigation into the Iraq assessments, released last July.

If Bush’s intelligence commission learned “something obvious,” Roberts said, “we want to make sure the intelligence community does fill in those gaps so we have a clear picture.”

Other lawmakers are angrier. “As far as I am concerned, the CIA threw us a curve ball,” said Sen. Carl Levin, D-Mich., also a member of the Intelligence Committee.

The White House, Congress and U.S. intelligence agencies have launched a number of investigations into the faulty prewar intelligence on the Iraq threat. The most definitive to date came last week from Bush’s intelligence commission.

According to the report, CIA officials tried to tell the agency’s top officials that Curveball was a suspected fabricator and may have been mentally unstable. The new information includes an alleged warning in a late-night phone call to the agency’s former director, George Tenet.

Tenet and his top deputy have both released statements emphatically denying that they received such warnings. Tenet called it “deeply disturbing” that the information didn’t get to him.

Levin wants Tenet to testify under oath. “I don’t think the intelligence committee was given some of that detail on Curveball, but I think it should have been,” Levin said.

“Tenet said he doesn’t remember,” Levin said. “Hey, these are life and death decisions. This is what we tell the world. That’s not good enough. … Where is the responsibility?”

U.S. intelligence agencies and the Bush administration have come under fire since 2001 for not sharing enough information with lawmakers who oversee some of the government’s most sensitive intelligence activities. Some in Congress have been particularly concerned about U.S. detention policies and the botched Iraq intelligence that was used to justify the invasion.

When asked how the new investigation got more detail, Sen. John McCain, R-Ariz., and a commission member, said that the panel conducted numerous long interviews. “We did not come up with that information early,” McCain said of the information on Curveball.

Last week’s report said the Defense Intelligence Agency circulated more than 100 reports from Curveball, with detailed information about mobile biological weapons labs in Iraq.

Curveball was working with German intelligence, and U.S. intelligence had limited access to him. The report said Curveball met once with a defense official and seemed to have a hangover.

The report said CIA officials contended that they tried to raise warnings about Curveball. One unnamed CIA division chief claims to have called Tenet at midnight the night before former Secretary of State Colin Powell gave his address to the United Nations, which provided the Bush administration’s case for invading Iraq. The division chief recalled telling Tenet that foreign intelligence officials were concerned about Curveball’s credibility.

In an unusual seven-page statement last week, Tenet said his “strong recollection” is that he did not speak with the division chief around midnight.

Tenet also said it was “stunning and deeply disturbing that this information, if true, was never brought forward to me by anyone” when the Iraq intelligence was scrutinized.

WAYNE KRAMER REPORT 3.22.05

From time to time I am blessed with what I call peak moments. These are times when the truth of a particular instant registers with me clearly. When there is no confusion or ambiguity whatsoever. When all distractions are stripped away and the moment merges with the feeling. They are the times when I know it just doesn’t get any better than it is right now.

Last month at London’s Royal Festival Hall I had one of those peak moments.

The music and socio/spiritual/educational/political philosophies of Sun Ra have been a pillar of my thinking for almost four decades. I first was introduced to them in the late sixties by my friend John Sinclair. I had moved out of my mother’s house on Detroit’s northwest side and into an apartment down in the Cass Corridor around Wayne State University. Sinclair and I had become friends and he became a mentor for me. He was older, better educated and possessed a worldview that intrigued me. Sinclair had a way of seeing things that made a lot more sense to me than what I was able to put together myself up to that point. We discussed everything from God to the blues and all points in-between. He was particularly well informed about music and musicians and the problems that go along with this kind of life. These were subjects that I was drawn to in an almost obsessive way.

We talked about what music means to people and what role it plays in our lives. We discussed how the music we gravitate to informs our lives and reflects them at the same time. I questioned what the connection between the musician and the listener is and how does it work beyond just the surface level. We talked a great deal and he turned me on to some music that changed everything for me. Some of this music was Sun Ra’s.

The Heliocentric Worlds of Sun Ra on ESP Disc was the record that opened the door to a whole new life for me. It’s peculiar that sometimes folks tell me a piece of music I made changed their life. I find it hard to believe, but this is exactly what happened to me. Time and time again.

Sun Ra was just what I was looking for. I have always been drawn to the next thing. The current thing only holds my interest for a short while. No matter what it is, could be trains or cooking shows. I think I’m a little better at staying in one place and enjoying the moment today but I am still inexplicably drawn to moving ahead.

Sun Ra was–and still is–way ahead of me. He has been another mentor of mine. He was also way ahead of most of the leading edge musicians of the day. These were not slackers either. In the day of Monk, Mingus and Coltrane, saxophonist John Gilmore chose Sun Ra’s band as the most “stretched-out” of the lot. Gilmore had offers to join the others’ bands and chose the Arkestra. This tells me, in effect, that Sun Ra was able to advance the entire context of western music into a larger more resonate expression. Personally, I place him in the pantheon of most important artists with da Vinci, Bach, Mozart, Picasso or Pollack.

I took dozens of acid trips with Sun Ra’s music. I suppose one could say this undermines my credibility, but I don’t care. I got deep, deep into what he and his fellows were doing. I heard what it was he was telling me. Us. That music can be limitless, that its expression is only limited by our own limited human thoughts and if we can get beyond self, then we can find a land “Where the sun shines eternally.” That the message is to make it your message.

Sun Ra died in May of 1993 and a few of the center core players like the aforementioned tenor giant Gilmore and baritone saxophonist Pat Patrick, vocalist and dancer June Tyson have also died, but the band has carried on bravely under the able leadership of alto saxophonist Marshall Allen. Who, at 70, is blowing like a teenager from Mars, which I suspect he actually is.

When we first started DKT-MC5 it was with the understanding that the band was an experiment and would have to be considered a “work-in-progress” concept. Any old ideas of what our band was or how our band might operate would have to be jettisoned in favor of a more flexible and adventurous platform to work on‚Ķif it was going to work at all. I actually wasn’t sure it could. It had been a long time since I played with Dennis Thompson and Michael Davis and a lot of water had passed under those bridges.

After the pleasant discovery that we could not only improve our ability to play together and even tour together quite successfully, I reached the conclusion: So what? Why are we doing this? To carry the message of the music of the MC5 to a new generation of fans? Sure, but the answer is ultimately bigger than that. It’s because we need to continue to do something creative. Doing things that push the boundaries of what a band is, and what the art of performing music might become given a little encouragement, DKT/MC5 is just that kind of vehicle.

The concert at Royal Festival Hall was the realization of just such a plan. It doesn’t come without a great deal of work by a lot of people. Once the idea had been hatched we were able to tie together some unfulfilled commitments from last summer’s 66-city world tour.

I assembled a new line-up of the band featuring our old friend Handsome Dick Manitoba, guitar hero Gilby Clarke and the incomparable Lisa Kekaula. We set up a short European tour to bracket the event. We had five shows across Spain and France to get ourselves together for the London concert. Being in a band is not a destination, it’s a process. The process takes a few runs-through to tune itself up for the performances. Five was a good number and by the time we hit London everyone felt pretty secure in their roles.

We were joined in London by my friend David Thomas. David and I put in some extra time in the dressing room working out the timing on the countdown section of “Starship.” It is a complicated bit of vocalizing, and it took some effort to master.

The sound checks went down fine and we were all running around from task to task like chickens with their heads cut off. There was a considerable press commitment for the day and I kept up my end by sitting for two filmings and a handful of print interviews. One film, incidentally, is a new documentary film by Don Letts on Sun Ra.

The Arkestra’s performance was a joy to my ears. The wonderful cacophony of multiple horns, bass, drums and electric guitar were fresh and sparkling. The Arkesta looked great too. The Sun Ra Arkestra doesn’t often get credit for their contribution to the art of performance in dance and theater, which is considerable. I’m not sure who influenced whom, but back in the 60s when we were first playing with them in Detroit they wore afro/dashiki types of clothes. We had just begun to experiment with sequins and gold lame and other metallic types of materials, so I am going out on a limb here to say that Sun Ra saw these bright flashy clothes on these crazy boys in Detroit and incorporated them into his presentation. Did we get it from him? Did he get it from us? Doesn’t matter. We all got it and tonight the Arkestra was shimmering and shining forth beautifully. The stage lighting really helped amplify the bright reds and blues of the sequins and bangles. The dancing was superb. Free and joyous.

We took the stage at our appointed time and played a focused set of straight down the center rock material from the MC5 book. We were closing in on the moment. As it approached, I started to feel a real excitement about what we were about to get into. All through the planning stages I kept calm and only allowed myself to be excited in an intellectual sense, as in, this a good idea among many other good ideas. But now it was real. It was palatable. I could feel it. I was giddy.

I said a few words to the audience about what Sun Ra meant to me and the band. I introduced Marshall Allen and the fellows. I introduced David Thomas and Dr. Charles Moore and we began playing “Starship.” I had a simple outline for the performance which was to start easy and free. Start small and build gradually into the actual song portion of the performance and then let’s just see what happens. What happened exceeded my wildest expectations. Each little sound I made with my guitar in the intro, someone in the Arkestra answered. I got a great exchange going with trumpeter Michael Ray.

When Dennis would lay down a rhythmic feel on drums, everybody joined in with him. The music was totally free and totally controlled at the same time. This is the lesson of freedom, its not free. For each freedom there is a responsibility, in music and in everything else. We explored theme after theme in a glorious and joyous fashion. I only wish we could have stayed with one rhythmic feel longer to see what’s over the next hill. Across the next valley. Over in the next galaxy.

I realized that, because of the stage volume, David Thomas couldn’t discern the timing on the opening chords, so I jumped in to sing the opening lines with him. “Starship‚ĶStarship take me‚Ķ” All Aboard.

The Arkestra joined in with a spontaneous counterpoint to the rock chord changes and we rounded the corner to the countdown section. The thing that makes this part so difficult is that it is absolutely set and cannot be changed. It comes at an accelerated velocity and has a lot of rhythmical words to get out at a really fast clip.

“Ten. For the gravity. Checkpoint! Nine for polarity. Checkpoint! ‚Ķ”

Made it! We’re leaving the power of earth’s gravitational pull and heading into zero G.

“Out there amongst the planets‚Ķ”

Here the Arkestra were in familiar territory. After all, space is their place. We cruised the galaxies and generally enjoyed the view for a while.

Earlier I had discussed with Marshall the possibilities of us all singing, “We travel the spaceways‚Ķ” or, “If you find Earth boring, it’s the same old same thing, come on sign up with Outerspaceways Incorporated” together, and he was all for it.

We all sang together and I never felt so at home as I did in that moment. I have been singing variations of this tune for 30 years and right there in that moment it just all seemed to fit perfectly. Right there in that instant, it was all there. From way back then with John Sinclair in the kitchen of his apartment on Warren Ave. in Detroit to right now here in London England, in an instant, time was suspended. The peak moment.

We all danced outrageous party dances from space ballet to the funky chicken. It was a full body/spirit/mind celebration. Just then, David Thomas began his Tuvian cum Venusian throat singing. We soared and roared and clicked and clacked, binked and bonked our way through the night finally ending in a drone of feedback that segued into a funky New Orleans second line march from the stage for all the voyagers. Naturally, these moments do not last.

You can’t hold on to joy. You just grab a kiss as it passes by.

I‚Äôm pretty sure the crowd went nuts but I was overwhelmed myself at the fun we just had. It wasn’t the music or the lights or the crowd, it was the experience of being alive. The backstage scene was pandemonium with good friends old and new showing up to check in.

Blissful, we left London at four in the morning en route to Italy and the remainder of the tour.

Oh yea, we filmed and recorded it too. Can’t wait to see what we got along with the hundreds of hours of footage from last year’s tour. Who knows? More will be revealed.

But the best news is we will do it again soon.

“We came from nowhere here. Why can‚Äôt we go somewhere there?” — Sun Ra

I couldn’t agree more.

Best, w

COURTESY JOSHUA BABCOCK!

‘Maybe I’ll be a feminist in my old age’

She quit London for New York after being hounded by the press. Five years later, Bjork has a new relationship and a new baby. But, she confesses, she’s still homesick for the British sense of humour

Liz Hoggard
Sunday March 13, 2005
The Observer

It’s impossible to be neutral about Bjork. Her critics certainly have plenty of ammunition. She eats roast puffin. She has a bonkers fashion sense and speaks in a mix of Nordic and Mockney. Spitting Image made a puppet of her. She had a very public fight at Bangkok airport with a photographer who got too close to her son (images of Bj??rk banging the woman’s head on the floor went round the world). Director Lars Von Trier even claimed she tried to eat her dress during filming of Dancer in the Dark .

But for many people, her arrival on the late-Eighties British music scene (as part of the Icelandic punk band, the Sugarcubes; then as a solo artist) was a breath of fresh air. We’d not seen such an exotic, counterculture figure – one who wore plaits for heaven’s sake – since the days of Lene Lovich. Broadly speaking, women in rock are ‘babes’ or ‘troubled’, but the image of Bj??rk sprinting down the street in Spike Jonze’s 1995 video, It’s So Quiet (performing dance steps from a 1940s MGM musical) made it clear she has no time for sexual stereotypes. Neither model-thin, nor conventionally gorgeous, her stage charm rests on her sheer vitality.

Her only ‘weak’ spot seemed to be her relationships with men. Her marriage to Sugarcubes bassist Thor Eldon ended when their son was only a baby (she was a single mother at 22). There were broken engagements to bad boys, Goldie and Tricky, but no one seemed to match her intellectually. Then, four years ago, she met the American multi-media artist Matthew Barney (best known for his surreal Cremaster Cycle of films). Today, they live in Noel Coward’s old house across the Hudson from Manhattan, with their baby daughter, Isadora. It seems a marriage of true eccentrics. Barney is a master provocateur (in 2003, he filled New York’s Guggenheim with tapioca, petroleum jelly and beeswax) and he has worked as an athlete, model and medic – so one senses conversation is never dull.

The couple guard their privacy fiercely, but for the first time they are working together. Bj??rk is writing a soundtrack for Barney’s new film, Drawing Restraint 9, to be premiered in June in Japan. ‘It’s really liberating to do a project that’s not just about me,’ she enthuses. ‘I mean I love being a very personal singer-songwriter, but I also like being a scientist or explorer.’

When I arrive for the interview, she is sprawled on the sofa, shoes off, eating tuna salad (no puffin today). She has flown in unexpectedly to talk about two new projects close to her heart. First she is releasing a DVD of videos filmed for her latest album, Medulla, widely regarded as a return to form. It’s full of images of Bj??rk dressed in a 50kg Alexander McQueen dress covered in tiny bells, and also as a hay bale (don’t ask). Best of all is a spoof documentary following the making of Jonze’s video for her single, Triumph of a Heart, an everyday tale of a woman and her commitment-phobic lover (played by a tabby cat called Nietzsche). The action winds up in a mad Icelandic bar with Bj??rk’s artist friends downing vodka and yodelling. It’s the equivalent of a pub crawl with Bj??rk.

Of course she was working with Jonze and Michel Gondry long before they became Hollywood stars. We talk about the success of Gondry’s film, Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind. ‘Michel did a great work there. He gave Kate [Winslet] who’s obviously such a huge spirit, such a vivacious lady, so much space. Usually when you see females in movies, they feel like they have these metallic structures around them, they are caged in by male energy. But she could be at her full volume without restrictions.’ A contrast, one senses with von Trier, who loves brutalising his actresses.

A true fashion radical, Bj??rk champions designers like Rei Kawakubo and Sophia Kokosalaki (who made the ‘curtain’ she wore to the 2004 Olympics). She would never wear jeans and a T-shirt, she says, because they are ‘a symbol of white American imperialism, like drinking Coca-Cola’. Her most famous fashion faux pas was wearing a swan outfit to the 2000 Oscars (she claims it was a conceptual joke). Does she ever tire of being eccentric? ‘It’s like music. So long as it’s a form of self-expression, I’m quite into it, but not when it becomes about power status. I do try and wear stuff by unknown designers, and I make sure I pay because if nothing else I have money.’

Today she is wearing a vintage yellow garment that is very nearly a dress, accessorised with an orange tracksuit top, silver shoes and gold handbag. A dusting of blue eyeshadow highlights her feathery eyebrows and wonderful flat cheekbones. She looks lovely. But she is also endearingly fidgety: scratching like a small child, twisting in her chair and trying to keep her dress this side of modest.

And yet one senses a new seriousness. Bj??rk’s other project is a charity album, with all proceeds going to Unicef. It is a collection of cover versions and mixes of her 1995 song, Army of Me (the most covered Bj??rk track ever). She posted a message on her website giving fans a week to submit tracks, then whittled 600 down to 20. With its defiant lyrics (‘And if you complain once more, you’ll meet an army of me’), the song is classic Bj??rk: brutal yet tender. And it has inspired an extraordinary mix of interpretations – from Canadian extreme metal to country.

She says it humbled her: ‘I was on the 12th floor in Manhattan listening to all the versions, and I could see into all these windows. I suddenly realised that in all the bedrooms all around the world, there are people so busy doing so many things. After that, I stopped walking past houses thinking, “Oh this is just a place where people are couch potatoes and lead mundane lives”.’

She’d been planning the charity album for several years, but the devastation of the tsunami in South East Asia proved the catalyst. Why does she think we responded so strongly when other humanitarian disasters are ignored? ‘I think because it happened just a month after the Bush election, it made people think they really had a say in rebuilding things, that they could make a difference. For the first time since the Vietnam War there seems a universal feeling among common people that they don’t agree with the people who are ruling the world.’

A self-confessed ‘punk anarchist’, she found herself politicised by the Iraq war. ‘People like me who don’t follow the news that much, suddenly I was looking online every day, just to see what was going on. I don’t know about you, but whatever I was doing, having dinner with music people or plumbers (a lot of my family are electricians and carpenters), everyone was talking about the war and how they disagreed with it – or agreed with it, but everyone had a position. So although it has been destructive and disastrous, the good thing is that people actually want to have a say.

‘A lot of the time I get obsessed by little nerdy things in my corner that no one else is interested in. I have that nerd factor in my character. So for once I was interested in something everyone else was interested in. I’m not going to talk like I know about politics, because I’m a total amateur, but maybe I can be a spokesperson for people who aren’t normally interested in politics.’

Her last album Medulla was certainly her most political – but in a unique way. She came up with an a capella album featuring only human voices: yodelling, beatbox, Icelandic choral music. It was, she says, a way to counter ‘stupid American racism and patriotism’ after 9/11. ‘I was saying, “What about the human soul? What happened before we got involved in problematic things like civilisation and religion and nationhood?”‘

The other major influence on Medulla (Latin for ‘marrow’) was Bj??rk’s pregnancy with Isadora: the album is full of touching, visceral songs about birth. ‘I became really aware of my muscles and bones. Your body just takes over and does incredible things.’ Now 39, Bj??rk is an example of a modern gap mother, with a three-year-old daughter and an 18-year-old son (Sindri now lives with his father in Reykjavik, where Bj??rk also spends part of the year).

‘It’s interesting for me to bring up a girl. You go to the toy store and the female characters there – Cinderella, the lady in Beauty and the Beast – their major task is to find Prince Charming. And I’m like, wait a minute – it’s 2005! We’ve fought so hard to have a say, and not just live through our partners, and yet you’re still seeing two-year-old girls with this message pushed at them that the only important thing is to find this amazing dress so that the guy will want you. It’s something my mum pointed out to me when I was little – so much that I almost threw up – but she’s right.’

She’s open about the problems of balancing family and work. ‘It’s incredible how nature sets females up to take care of people, and yet it is tricky for them to take care of themselves.’ Slightly to her astonishment she is becoming interested in women’s rights. Because of her mother’s own militancy – ‘she wouldn’t enter the kitchen, I mean come on’ – she reacted the other way, adoring housework, knitting and sewing.

But recently, ‘I have been noticing how much harder it is for me and my girlfriends to juggle things than it is for men. In the 1990s, there was a lot of optimism: we thought we’d finally sorted out equal rights for men and women … and then suddenly it just crashed. I think this is my first time in all the hundreds of interviews I’ve done, that I’ve actually jumped on the feminist bandwagon. In the past I always wanted to change the subject. But I think now it’s time to bring up all these issues. I wish it wasn’t, but I’ll do it, I’m up for doing the dirty work!’

Will it inspire new songs? ‘It’s definitely brewing inside me. Maybe if Medulla was my personal, idiosyncratic statement about politics, whatever I do next is going to be my eccentric view of feminism. It’s like any major upheaval, whether it’s the revolution in France or punk for me in the 1970s, you break up all the corruption and fuck up all the bad things, so you can start really fresh. But it’s the law of nature that it all settles again, so you have to keep checking yourself. You can’t ever say, “OK, we sorted out corruption and everyone is equal.” So I might become a feminist in my old age!’

Born Bj??rk Gudmundsdottir in Reykjavik in 1965, she grew up in a hippy commune with her mother and stepfather, a blues musician. ‘I was brought up feeling that my mother had sacrificed herself for me. Fortunately she’s now got a little business doing homeopathy from home, but she’s almost 60. I’m still desperate to get over that sense of guilt. I don’t want my baby to feel that.’

An infant prodigy, she released her first album aged 11 and was touring the world by 18, when the Sugarcubes’ first single Birthday went global. She spent years living in London, but decamped to New York in 2000, driven out by British tabloids and a terrible incident where a 21-year-old ‘fan’ videotaped his own suicide after mailing an acid bomb to her record company.

Like fellow emigr?© David Bowie, she prefers the anonymity of New York, ‘where they only have one tabloid, not four all competing against each other’. She says that she resolutely avoids celebrity parties but one day might like to run a music school for children. ‘Part of me is probably more conservative than people realise. I like my old string quartets, I don’t like music that’s trippy for trippy’s sake.’ I say she seems slightly wistful about being back in London. Does she miss us? ‘I love England. It’s no coincidence it’s the first place I moved to for a more cosmopolitan life, which is the only thing Iceland lacks. You can be a very critical, unforgiving people, you knock people down when you should be cheering. But criticism can be good. And this is a country that loves comedy. I saw a poll this week of top BBC moments, and the first five were all from comedies like The Office and Monty Python. You are very good at skimming corruption off the top and revealing the integrity inside. In Britain things have to be pure,’ she grins, ‘You just don’t get away with bullshitting.’

¬? Medulla: DVD and Army of Me are released in May on One Little Indian Records.

from somewhere:

Ghostface Killah’s next album may as well be titled Ghostface Meets Metal Face, as he’s teaming up with iron-mask-loving hip-hop veteran MF Doom.

“I’m into old hip-hop, and the music that he makes is right up my alley,” Ghostface said. “His beats are real underground. He’s got the sound RZA had back in the day.”

The Wu-Tang rapper and the former KMD member have collaborated on six songs thus far, and while the project will probably be released on Doom’s indie label, Nature Sounds, his manager claims Def Jam is also interested.

Meanwhile, Ghost is digging up tracks for his next solo album, tentatively titled Rapper’s Delight, and Doom may have some tracks on that project as well. “I’m working my album around his beats and whatever I add from other producers,” Ghost said. “I would love to do a whole thing with him. He’s a cool guy.”

And while some Wu fans might’ve been disappointed that Raekwon wasn’t on last year’s The Pretty Toney Album, Ghost promised the Chef would be featured on at least four or five songs on the new disc.

“Fans are always asking why you didn’t do this or that, but they have to understand that people are working and busy themselves,” Ghostface said.

Schedules aside, the two are also in the early stages of piecing together a second duet album, following up Only Built 4 Cuban Linx.

“We sort of Batman’d and Robin’d that first album,” Ghost recalled. “I told him to send me some beats that he wants to use so I could catch some lines on it when I could. I’m really trying to focus on my thing, but I like to focus on two things at the same time.”

A lot has changed since their 1995 album, Ghostface said, especially the state of hip-hop. Referring to 50 Cent and the Game’s highly publicized saga earlier this month, he declared, “The game is like wrestling right now. … I don’t see any originality in it no more. Everything is a gimmick. It’s not based upon good music. It’s just based on hype now. You have to shoot somebody in order to sell some records. I put out good albums, but my albums never really sold nothing.”

He’s hoping Jay-Z can reverse that trend, now that Jay’s got a corner office at Def Jam.

“Jay knows I’m fresh, and [about] the work I’ve been putting in on the streets. It’s great for somebody to understand me,” Ghost said. “I’m glad that Hov is the president because I’d rather talk to him than anyone that’s over 50 years old. I just wanna get my talent out to the world within these next two or three years. And maybe two albums after that I might call it a wrap.

“My goal was just to do 10 albums. But if God spares my life and gives me the frame of mind, then I’m gonna keep going until he tells me to stop,” Ghost continued. “I’m going to go straight into film. I’ve been writing movies. I want to produce and direct if I could and just get my movie career up, ’cause I think I could get real busy on the acting tip. If they caught me in Hollywood, it’s gonna be some sh–. I want to do a little real estate and help poor people. I want to be that dude on the TV like, ‘For five cents a day you could feed this kid right here.’ That’s what I want to do. It’s payback for what God gave me.”

MF Doom’s manager said he expects Ghostface and MF Doom’s album to drop this fall. Ghost said his solo album and his reunion with Raekwon will likely drop later this year as well.

COURTESY JOSHUA BABCOCK!.