Blog Post · My Own Music · Spirituality and Philosophy

Miranda – Keep the Cameras Rolling

With everything that has happened since the surreal inauguration of Donald Trump on 20th of January, I have found myself feeling paralysed and numb. The string of ridiculous Presidential Executive Orders this week has dashed any hope that maybe the election rhetoric was just puffery to get him elected.

As Trump surrounds himself with ignorant and dangerous extremists, it is hard to see any good in the coming four years for America or the world.

Petty and angry responses to the coverage of the inauguration, termination of the Acting Attorney General, Paula Yates, with terms like ‘betrayal’ has given any undergrad psychologist enough information to diagnose Trump with a narcissistic, paranoid, vindictive personality disorder. This is the man who now has his finger on the Nuclear Button.

This compounding week of unbelievable events unfolding has left me dazed.

It feels like all the voices of reason, compassion and tolerance are stammering incoherently. It is as though the scale of the insanity, the crazed support of a blinded and increasingly belligerent right-wing populace has left us speechless and despairing.

Usually when I see an injustice in the world, I can write a song about it. But the song that came to me this week is about the absence of a song, I have no words to suggest that we look at the positives or we maintain hope in the future revival of humanity.

We are not in new territory here, the consequence of demonising a portion of society can be starkly observed in the Jedwabne progrom in Poland, 1941. This atrocity wasn’t perpetuated by the Nazi’s, but by 23 Polish men who burned alive at least 340 Jews from their own town. It is not by accident that I pick this example from World War II. The comparisons between the rise of Trump and Hitler have already ready been widely made. Others have suggested Mussolini as a more fitting parallel, neither one bodes well.

Trump has demonised women, reporters, Mexicans, Muslims, environmentalist and I am sure I have missed many more. This type of incite to hatred has real, and often fatal, consequences.

Here in Australia the same rhetoric is coming from the One Nation Party, and has already been popularised by the UK Independence Party leading to the vote to leave the European Union. Five years ago, these groups with extremist views still existed, but they were on the fringe, with a tiny following. Now they are setting the agenda, drawing a sizeable following, and having centre-right parties borrow from their policies.

Humanity is undoubtedly undergoing a crisis of faith. Not religious faith, but faith in the principles of kindness, tolerance and honesty; principles that underline the Universal Declaration of Human Rights which is increasingly being ignored in favour of commercial and political interests.

Anyone who thinks that this is purely an ideological issue and part of the small swing from left to right that happens with democratic elections should look at the treatment of the members of the media that reported on the Women’s March held alongside the inauguration. Trump is set on ushering in the era of post-truth, alternative-facts and double-speak.

It is not that analysts, commentators and human rights activists are not pointing out the problems, it just seems that their words are lost in the wind of hate-speech and ignorance.

The one light I can point to is the behaviour of the US National Park Service tweeting about climate change in defiance of Trump (another great article). I suspect that a generation of young people inspired by Leslie Knope have joined the Park Service, and hold Leslie’s values as their own. Life imitating art in a glorious way.

As paralyzed as I feel, I must continue to record what is happening and how I feel about it, just like the last of the colonists on Miranda.

Blog Post · Film, TV and Literature · Spirituality and Philosophy

Review of The OA (Spoilers)

*This Blog Post Contains Spoilers*

I have just finished watching the first season of the Netflix original The OA. Not since Lost have I watched a TV series that questioned the fabric of human existence in the same way.

With only 8 episodes in the first season, it doesn’t take too long to watch. Brit Marling co-wrote the show with Zal Batmanglij and is also the lead actress. For a Netflix series I was impressed with the production, acting and scripting. It was especially nice to see Phyllis Smith from the The Office back on the screen, she plays the awkward middle-American school teacher brilliantly.

Production aside, what really interested me about the show were the themes and philosophical questions posed.

Hippocrates is famous for the oath which bears his name, and is still at the core of modern medicine. Wikipedia supports my lay-person’s understanding that it can be summarised as ‘do no harm’. We can assume that this applies only to humans, as much of our advances in psychology, neurology, and many other medical fields are owed to the lives (and suffering) of countless rats, mice, monkeys and other animals. When it comes to people, however, there is generally still a strong negative feeling regarding harmful, non-consensual experimentation on humans.

This is not to say that it hasn’t happened, the activities under the Nazis being just one example. The West is also far from unblemished as the MKUltra program run by the CIA in the 1950’s revealed.

In case you missed my spoiler warning, the core of this season of The OA is Doctor Hunter Percy, creepily played by Jason Isaacs (Lucius Malfoy), who is experimenting on captive humans who have undergone Near Death Experiences (NDE).

Dr Percy is selecting NDE victims/subjects because they have a better survival rate when killed/revived multiple times. The supposed goal of the experimentation is to prove the existence of an afterlife. This topic is old ground and already the subject of significant real-world research, the Wikipedia page on NDE’s cites numerous studies relating to cardiac arrest survivors. Many of the aspects of NDE observed/recorded by science are faithfully depicted in the show.

Prairie Johnson, played by Brit Marling, becomes one of Dr Percy’s prisoners and through a series of lucid dreams / death experiences decides that NDE sufferers are angels and that an entity from the ‘other side’ is giving them physical movements that can allow them to escape.

This is the part that held my interest, the connection between human movement and spirituality. My children and I enjoyed watching both Avatar: The last Air Bender and the follow-on series, Legend of Kora. In these two shows, the Eastern belief that physical movement is not just about fighting but can also be used as a vehicle to control the elements is central. In my own practice of Qi-Gong (Falun Xiulian Dafa), this idea is also fundamental.

I have frequently visited Hawaii, and every time I see Hula performed I feel that this cultural practice has a much deeper meaning. Rather than just telling stories, or practicing fishing techniques it seems like there is some Sympathetic magic going on, just as there is in the dances of the first Australian People.

This idea is not without at least some recognition in the field of science. Mirror neuron research has shown that our brains have the capacity to observe movement and have it directly impact the motor centres of our own brain. From an evolutionary point of view, it makes sense for the young of a species to quickly learn from their parents simply by watching what they do. At its most basic level, when you watch sport and pay attention to your own body, you will find yourself mimicking the movements. Thus the reason young boys will instinctively cover their own groin when witnessing a peer suffering an unfortunate impact.

The OA uses the sequence of attaining new movements as a plot device, and two movements allow the captives to revive a dead captive and heal a terminal illness. One of the other interesting concepts is the idea that these movements are gained by swallowing something while in a near-death state. The White Snake, collected by the brothers Grimm is one of many examples from folklore where wisdom can be obtained by eating a specific animal. The Greenwood Encyclopaedia of Folktales and Fairytales, by Donald Haas, has a whole disturbing section on food in fairy-tales, especially the cannibalism that has been largely edited out in the Disney versions.  I spoke a little about the importance of movement to religious/spiritual experience in my post on David Bowie’s Blackstar.

The season is full of plot-twists and hide-and-seek timelines common to any thriller, however, I didn’t have any moments where I thought “well that is just ridiculous”. I don’t know what it is, but some people seem to live their life without an overriding discomfort with religion and science’s inability to explain our existence coherently, whereas people like myself are constantly driving by this discomfort to wonder, search and postulate.

Entertainment like The OA prods at those uncomfortable grey areas of our knowledge and bids us to look into the darker corners of our consciousness.

 

Blog Post · Spirituality and Philosophy

A Magical Voice

My wife and I were discussing when we first saw Wendy Rule, I thought it had been a single concert but the alternate story is that I saw her first and then insisted that we both go along the next time. I guess this is what 40 feels like when it comes to remembering things that happened in a semi-drunken state in my 20’s.

In any case, the concert that I remember in Canberra around 1996/1997 was terrible; terrible because it was in a downstairs club with the house music on and a bunch of patrons talking loudly over a truly incredible voice. I had never before heard someone use their voice like that, conjuring images of a sacred and mystic world, bringing the audience into an ancient grove, a Greek oracle in the mountain mists, an incense filled Egyptian temple. The only experience I have ever heard that comes close to it is the work of Lisa Gerrard from Dead Can Dance.

In the late 90’s I was embarking on a short foray into life as a druid/solitary witch. Reading the work of Scott Cunningham and Douglas Monroe was where I started. Monroe’s 21 Lessons of Merlyn has since received some terrible reviews from those in the druid community. This was one of my greatest frustrations with neo-paganism, each group insisting on the supremacy of their order and the credentials of their texts and practices. In any case, the advent of a singing Witch coming to Canberra was too good to be true for my young self and after hearing Wendy sing I knew this was something special (and genuine).

For all its failings, the books by Douglas Monroe spoke about the importance of music and song to ancient ritual. Whether the chanting of a shaman, the choir in a church or the team song at a football match; there is no denying the capacity of music and song to heighten human experience. As a singer/songwriter, I know there are moments when my voice and the music combine to generate something which makes your hair stand on end and your heart leap into your throat.

If you ever get to attend a concert with Wendy she is quite up-front about the relevance of her singing to ritual. The corners are called (horrendous Hollywood example) with song, and at some concerts Wendy has spoken about using song as a tool of transformation.

In general, I am a sceptic, as I have unmasked and seen the unmasking of too many charlatans to remain trusting. However, just like my experience at the Chalice Well in Glastonbury, there is something undeniable about the power present when Wendy sings.

From a scientific point of view, I am fascinated by the question of whether the words are largely irrelevant and the quality of tone, rhythm and power (RMS not the mystical kind) is what generates the experience. In much of Lisa Gerrard’s singing with Dead Can Dance, there are no discernible words, yet the emotion seems to be clearly conveyed.

From the point of view of someone who does meditation in the Buddhist school, I know that intent is also a significant part of any action in the magical world. Both in the magical imaginings of David Eddings and Christopher Paolini the combination of Will and Word is critical, as it is in the more practical world of Aleister Crowley.

I had the great fortune to see Wendy again in Adelaide in 2013, along with Spiral Dance and Kellianna at the Singing Gallery (a very special venue that I also saw Damh the Bard at). Please don’t misunderstand, Kellianna and Spiral Dance are a pleasure to listen to, they have beautiful voices and are musically accomplished, but they don’t do what Wendy can in terms of the conjuring of experience.

In all the heights of human endeavor in music, the Nessun dorma from Puccini’s Turandot, Allegri’s Misere, Yo-Yo Ma playing Bach, it feels like we are touching on the surface of an ocean of potential. Potential that Wendy Rule with the same black Yamaha guitar has been conjuring for 20 years now.

Unfortunately the ‘witch’ label has meant that many people probably won’t get to experience the divine pleasure of sitting in a quiet room and listening to Wendy sing. At the concert Wendy played in Canberra last night I had to chuckle at the ‘what are YOU doing here’ response I got from one of the local neo-pagan community in attendance. Me in my Hawaiian shirt with five kids, what business did I have being at a witchy concert? I smiled and said that “yes”, I was here to listen to Wendy Rule.

If you ever get the chance to see Wendy play live, don’t miss it, even if you aren’t a neo-pagan. And if you can’t make the concert, Black Snake is Wendy’s latest, dark but cathartic and re-awakening, album. The subject matter is human existence, and her talented mastery of the voice is incredible to experience.wendy

 

 

 

 

 

 

Note: My research takes me to some funny places, here is a Sydney Morning Herald article, not even sure if it is tongue-in-cheek, about pagan opposition to Kosher/Halal treatment of meat. Wendy is cited as a random Australian witch, probably because the stock photo was ‘witchy’.

 

Blog Post · Spirituality and Philosophy

The Death of Mí Xìn

I am not sure what it was about my upbringing that led me to question everything, trust no-one and expect the worst of people. It probably has something to do with the religion shopping that I witnessed my parents go through when I was a toddler. The types of religions they sampled were full of Amway sales-people and predators of every sort. My paranoia could also be related to the string of incidents that I witnessed in my later childhood, both personally and in the public media, that caused me to quickly realise that not everyone was what they presented themselves to be.

The trigger for this post was listening to the very poignant song Daisy, by Karine Polwart. A particular Facebook war involving some Pentecostal Christians brought this song to mind, I recorded my own cover here. The message in the song is a very sad one, it was apparently written by Karine to her unborn niece (who turned out to be a boy).

To crudely summarise Karine’s beautiful lyrics, “the world is full of horrible people”. I wouldn’t say the message is entirely depressing, because there is also a subtext about using your judgement to measure people by their actions and face the complicated world with self-worth rather than the worth rented to you by others, in exchange for their love, respect, money or just not hurting you.

This led me to the subject of this post, mí xìn (??). This Chinese phrase is now widely translated as superstition or superstitious belief; however, this translation is largely a result of the Cultural Revolution and its efforts to stamp out the Four Olds (Old Customs, Old Culture, Old Habits, Old Ideas). The more finessed translation is one of faith, trust, or unquestioning loyalty.

I love looking into the origins of Chinese characters as the meaning is often much richer than that found in our non-pictographic language. The first character, mí, is made up of a character for walking/movement and another one showing lots of directions. The second character, xìn, is made of the characters for person and word, meaning trust, i.e. “A person’s word”. So putting this together we can get “following a person’s word whatever direction they send you in”. I’m sure many scholars of Mandarin will dispute my interpretation, but it makes sense to me.

So is this blind faith, that was so much a part of countless pre-modern societies, always a bad thing? Was Another Brick in the Wall, really a step forward for society? Many young people (and old) no longer respect their parents, teachers, policeman, doctors or anyone else in society with traditional authority. The respect seems to have shifted to winners of reality TV, pop-stars and actors.

This didn’t happen by accident. My year 6 teacher, who I never got on with, was jailed for abusing his wife and daughter. The incidents of corrupt politicians, negligent doctors, child abusing priests, corrupt policemen, judges and public servants are on a 24-hour repeat news reel. We live in a society where, just like in Communist China, we have torn down the traditional towers of respect.

I wonder if this is because the statistical likelihood of striking a bad apple in these fields has drastically changed, or because the global news cycle means that we now hear about them more often.

There are situations in society where this mí xìn is very valuable, if not critical, to stability. How can children learn without trust in their teachers? How can you do well at your job without learning from more experienced co-workers and supervisors? How can a government function if the populace has no faith in their elected officials? Unfortunately, the very people in these positions are failing us, and have been exposed as failing us for so long that their institutions no longer have credibility.

Obviously I don’t expect to provide the answer for a utopian society here, but I can say that the Chinese Communist approach of abolishing everything has had terrible consequences. The American reality-TV experiment has resulted in a farcical Presidential election campaign. There must be a way for a society to institute a process of rational judgement to decide who deserves respect, who is best placed to exercise authority and who can be trusted.

It is probably Orientalist nostalgia which makes me look at the Native American, Celtic and Aboriginal Australian societies and think that they seemed to have better ways of finding the right contributing role for each person and ejecting those who weren’t good for the society. In the west we seem to pick the people who are the worst and appoint them to rule us. Thank you Karine, for telling it like it is, I wish there were more people that thought about things.

 

 

 

 

Blog Post · Folk Music · My Own Music · Spirituality and Philosophy

Sisters of Yass

I was asked to write an Irish song for an upcoming music festival. Often my song-writing requires a specific catalyst and the songs tend to come out fully-formed in a few minutes. In searching for a suitable subject for a song, I remembered one of the key Irish connections to our small town in Australia; that being, the Sisters of Mercy who came here in 1875 to set up a school.

My children go/have gone to the primary school that a group of Sisters from Rochfortbridge in County Meath, Ireland, started when they arrived in the town in 1857.

I should caveat my post with the statement that I am sceptical of the capacity for closed religious orders of monks or nuns to maintain a healthy lifestyle in the long term. Victor Hugo dedicates a significant part of Les Misérables to describing the dangers associated with these groups. As a society we have been doing some painful looking into the past on this issue, the Magdalene Sisters in Ireland being a key relevant example. That said, I have great respect and admiration for the courage of these nuns who travelled, on request, to Australia with the intention of doing some good through education.

The song that I wrote is a fanciful re-imagining of brave young(ish; Eliza Fielding was 41) women leaving their native home in Ireland and coming to this dry, brown, land with its mix of recently displaced native peoples, rough settlers and wealthy sheep-station owners. I chose to present the emotion of longing for their (much) greener home but also their desire to share a message of love (and mercy). I have chosen one anecdote from a historical website[i] article that describes how the sisters allowed the local aboriginal children into their classes, but were later forbidden to do so by the State Department for Education. In response, the sisters set up a separate classroom until the classes were eventually integrated.

I also know that the lives of the founder of the Sisters of Mercy order, Catherine McAuley, and one of the key sisters who came to Yass, Mary Paul Fielding, are still remembered at the Mt Carmel School through the naming of their school houses and the annual events that the children are engaged in. The buildings that the sisters built and later lived and taught in are still standing. St Augustine’s Chapel, in particular, has recently be renovated and used as one of the most beautiful venues for the Turning Wave Festival held here in September.

A more in-depth biography of Mary Paul Fielding is provided on the Sisters of Mercy website[ii], including the names of all the sisters who came to Yass. Mother Fielding, in particular, is buried in Wilcannia, far inland New South Wales, definitely qualifying as ‘under a sunburnt sky’.

I do wonder whether my song reflects the feelings in the hearts of the women that came here, especially the young postulants and sisters. Maureen Healy writes in Life out West, her article in the Australasian Catholic Record[iii] in June 2015,

“We pray with our Pope Francis that the Spirit of joy will return to our world, that we will recognise through the eyes of mercy that our children will benefit from the care and the concern of others, and that our elders will be honoured.”

With the way the world seems to be going at the moment, I admire her optimism. The history of the Sisters of Mercy in Australia and the economic and social circumstances that caused young women to leave Ireland and live a life of hardship and service all over Australia are fascinating. Sophia McGrath’s case study of the Parramatta Sisters of Mercy[iv], published in 1995 gives significant insight into this world.

A quote from the above article:

“In 1906 Sister M.Alphonsus Shelly, a pioneer Sister, wrote to Moran: ‘Father Murray CSSR has given a beautiful retreat to the Children of Mary in Surry Hills. It will, please God, be productive of great good. There is a true nursery of vocations there.”

The phrase ‘nursery of vocations’ gives some idea of how young girls were considered (or groomed) for entry into the vocational life. I wonder how many entered because of religious fervour which had been intentionally fanned, how many entered because of the challenges created by their social class and how many entered because, at the time, there were few other opportunities for women in the world other than being a servant-wife.

Sisters of Mercy at the Aboriginal Reserve in Yass
Sisters of Mercy at the Aboriginal Reserve in Yass [i]
[i] http://yass.cathzone.com/Media/Default/Page/history/mercynuns.pdf

[ii] http://www.mercyworld.org/heritage/tmplt-foundressstory.cfm?loadref=182

[iii] Healy, Maureen. Life out west [online]. Australasian Catholic Record, The, Vol. 92, No. 2, Jun 2015: 148-153

[iv] McGrath, Sophie. Women religious in the history of Australia 1888/ 1950: a case study, the Sisters of Mercy, Parramatta [online]. Journal of the Royal Australian Historical Society, Vol. 81, No. 2, Dec 1995: 195-212

Blog Post · Spirituality and Philosophy

In the Villa of Ormen – A Blackstar Analysis

I know this post will be joining the growing pool of over-interpretation of David Bowie’s recent album release. From the Christian right claiming him as Lucifer, to the alien conspiracy theorists suggesting that this is an announcement of first contact.

I first need to make a confession, I grew up in a fundamentalist Christian household and was banned from all popular music until I left home at 17. Other than glimpses of an interview or the odd film-clip on the television I had never really looked into the work of David Bowie. Even as I branched out in later life to the likes of Led Zeppelin, Dylan, Cohen, Dead can Dance, I largely ignored Bowie. I mistakenly assumed he was a peddler of manufactured shock-pop for an un-discerning consumer base.

Over the past week, after watching the video clip for Blackstar (the title track) and Lazarus, I have been busily watching bio-docs, reading Wikipedia pages and listening to the Best of Bowie compilation that had sat unplayed on my music devices for 3 years.

The main reason for my interest was the symbology in Blackstar. This post is predominately concerned with providing my, relatively unimportant, thoughts on the title track for the album. If you haven’t already watched the filmclip a few times, this post won’t make much sense.

Part of my recovery from the poisonous indoctrination of the Pentecostal Christian movement was wide reading of anything spiritual I could get my hands on. For someone who has read Fraser’s Golden Bough, Graves White Goddess, the works of Aleister Crowley, Helena Blavatsky, Gerald Gardner, George Gurdjieff and other occultists of the Golden Dawn era, the Blackstar filmclip contains several motifs that would otherwise go unnoticed.

Before tackling the content of the Blackstar filmclip, I need to acknowledge the challenging nature of analysing art of this sort, where there is a suspicion that there may be an occult meaning. Here I am using occult in its true sense, rather than the alarmist catch-cry of the Christian right. Occult just means hidden, and more accurately, where the message will differ depending on the audience.

Art sits in a unique position of power in our society. We grant the artist the right to attempt to change our thinking on a range of issues. When it comes to politics, we know the party either wants to retain their power or unseat the opposition. We expect their advertising and media releases to serve their interests. Religious leaders preach the supremacy of their faith without tolerating dissent. Vegans and environmentalists advocate for change to human behaviour openly. Nothing is more transparent in its goals, if not its methods, than corporations using marketing to sell their products. Artists, however, tend to scare the establishment (religion, government or even economic ideology) because they often manage to get their message through to an audience despite the establishment. The content of the message can be difficult for the establishment to discern, which inhibits their ability to counter, dilute or destroy it before it reaches the audience. This has lead to the death, imprisonment or demonization of no small number of artists over the ages.

It is probably safe to assume that David Bowie had long since passed the point where his art was driven by the market, if it ever was. With his own record label ISO (though partnered with Colombia) and a staggering back-catalogue of royalty producing albums, Bowie was in a position to create whatever he wanted. The recent revelation that he was working on Blackstar with the knowledge of his terminal cancer re-enforces the argument that this album was his own message, un-influenced by commercial drivers. The interview with Johan Renck (Director) confirms that the filmclip/song combination for Blackstar was created as a close collaboration.

So what can we draw from Blackstar? Firstly, I put forward my thoughts for consideration. I am claiming no great intuition to the deeper intent of the artists. Unfortunately, with Bowie’s passing we will never get clarity.

At the macro level, I read Blackstar as a warning about the nature of religion. I know some others have suggested that Blackstar is an indictment of ISIS (yes the terrorist organisation) or even suggested that it is a description of Bowie’s Apotheosis and a call to his worship. Personally, I put both of these in the crazy basket.

Any student of the Tarot will have spotted a few clear corresponding motifs in the film clip. With The Tower, the High Priestess, possibly the Hanged Man making an appearance. As I gave up my reading of tarot many years ago, I won’t comment further but others may wish to suggest the significance of these three cards.

The appearance of Major Tom’s skeletal remains on an alien planet starts the film. A human woman with a mouse tail retrieves a human skull embellished with gold and jewels. The skull is placed in a glass container and later in the film clip it is shown to become part of religious ritual. There is a clear connection between this skull and the catacomb saints brought to the public through the work of Paul Koudounaris. The veneration of these bejewelled skeletons related to a Roman Catholic resurgence between the 1500’s and 1700’s after the Protestant efforts to remove the trappings of the church.

Many of these skeletons labelled as saints were actually from people of no religious consequence. Veneration of bones, especially the skull, is a repeated element of religious behaviour as far back as the stone age. The type of dance which is incorporate in the veneration of the jewelled skull in the Blackstar film clip is very similar to that which appears in the film clip for Fashion, released by Bowie in 1980. Fashion can be interpreted as a description of how brainwashed consumers are, blindly adopting the food, clothing and mannerisms that are presented to them. Applying this same thinking to religious worship in Blackstar could be read as a similar indictment of the consumers of religion. There could also be a connection to the shaker sect, which broke from the quakers. Similar shaking forms part of their religious worship.

Towards the middle of the song, Bowie stands against a painted sky holding a book with a black star on the cover. Three passive actors watch him, as if in a trance. It is impossible not to think of the similar propaganda photos and paintings of Mao Zedong holding his red book aloft before an adoring Chinese populous. Can we equate the contents of the book with the black star, to the ‘fascism disguised as communism’ ramblings of Mao? The outcome for the Chinese people, being famine, abolishment of freedom of thought and multiple violent purges would have to be seen as a warning.

Knowing that Bowie was a reader of Aleister Crowley’s work, and that one of the editions of Crowley’s Book of the Law featured a black background and pentagram motif could be relevant. Though when we see Bowie writing in what looks like the same book in the film clip for Lazarus, we could be led to surmise that Bowie is presenting his own body of work for consideration. This can be read with an underlying warning of the consequence, being a Chinese style dictatorship.

The end of the film clip includes a seemingly disconnected sequence where three scarecrow men are tied to crosses in a field of wheat. Christian’s will of course jump to equate the imagery with crucifixion, but that would be a narrow-minded interpretation. For me, this scene brought back images from Fraser’s Golden Bough, with widespread agricultural ritual featuring the sacrifice of a year king in aid of crop production. The sexual gyration of the bound scarecrows supports the sympathetic magic connection. At the end of the clip a dreadlocked, hook (scythe) handed monster appears to kill the scarecrows. This is probably the most disturbing part of the clip to watch. Taken as the standard killing of a male, virile, year king to fertilise the fields for the next growing cycle, it seems self-evident.

We can interpret this sacrifice scene as allegory, for example, society deifies its music, movie and sports stars and then inevitably cuts them down through drug use, suicide or other forms of self destruction.

The piece that I find most challenging in the work is the connection between the wheat-field scene and the veneration of the skull by the women and the priestess. Clearly a women is selected from the group by the priestess, and this activity is cut with scenes of the monster in the field. Almost as though the worship of the skull summons the monster, however, the connection between the two is not clear. This discussion would be much easier if the selection of the woman resulted in a sexual union with the year king, a common piece of sympathetic magic for crop fertility. I wonder if an extended version of the film clip and song exist.

There is so much more in this piece to consider, the solitary candle, the Villa of Ormen, the black star (black sun). No doubt the internet is already filling with papers and posts analysing the work. Ormen, which I first heard as ‘all men’, means Snake in Norwegian and could refer to an attempt by King Olav to force Christianity on Raud the Strong. This makes a lot of sense in the context of this work as a warning about religion. The Christians forced conversion through torture or death in Norway, a particularly gruesome death in Raud’s case.

I look forward to reading the many other interpretations that will come and appreciate any expansion or correction of my own.