APPLYING MEDICINE WISDOM IN THE MATRIX

Article: How Do I Apply Medicine Wisdom in the Matrix?

Back and forth lifestyle between the DC suburbs and the Amazon has taught me PLENTY. Purged me PLENTY. Stretched me...PLENTY. Above all, it taught me some things I don't think I would ever have been able to learn (in this form) without this particular experience. The art of the application and management.I remember when I first came into ceremony and finally understood how knowledge can move from a understanding on the mental level (sure, of course I know what Laws of Attraction are!) to the experiential level, for us occurring in ceremony (oh my GOD! NOW I get it! WOW! I totally thought I understood this before.) Then to the application level. Imagine - running strong and clear on Life Purpose, and exactly what steps to take. You know consciously that you may walk back into a cloud of naysayers and fear-based doubters. You swear you will hold to your integrity and truth. I WILL manifest this center! Or whatever your goal is.You get back strong. Start to tell people your idea, timidly at first. Some respond well, some don't. Time passes. I'll just shelf this idea for awhile until I get settled. Now you're settled. Still nagging. Once I get this other thing paid off. Once this, once that. Your dream has officially been swallowed by the Matrix.For a generation of children who have been raised to "be whatever they want to be" when we grow up, we sure have a hard spot in the consciousness to actually achieving it. As soon as someone wants to take a risk, it often triggers up other people's fears, resentments that they didn't do it, whatever. And of course, because they care about you, they will speak their concern. The intention is good, it's just fear-based. And people approach fear differently. Personally I don't trust fear for shit. I have intuition to guide me out of a bad situation.

Of course this doesn't happen all the time. Some people come into the Medicine for one group, ready to make a change, and damn if they don't. Turning-pointers. Off and running with nothing stopping them. Some aren't open enough to apply what they're learning while in Peru, so not too much of a chance of application at home (unless they open up later and allow the wisdom to seep up from under the ego.) Most people are somewhere in the middle. Certain epiphanies you can't erase, and one clarity may instantaneously change the structure of your understanding. Plus, we are purging. You leave Peru with less energetic crap than you came with. However, the amount of energetic crap in a typical Westerner is absolutely astounding. I don't care how many times you've Master Cleansed, Colon Cleansed, or Juice Cleansed, there is almost always more, unless your like a Buddha or something. Of course, the ego must be willing to see it for it to work (free will wins.)So where does it go? The clarity? The way I "see" it energetically/ceremonially, is the consciousness looks like a big, thick, dark gray layer of cement (with some moss and mold and stuff on it.) Again, just because that's the visual I receive doesn't mean it is that way, people see it differently. The inner work we do chips, cracks and softens the layer of cement, though I won't lie, it seems to take a hell of a lot of work to even get down there. Most of the time we get stuck in the "fumes" and emotional-energetic build-ups that seep up from the consciousness, and just those bubbles can blast us like a hurricane. Each step along the way down into the depths, we have to keep developing new levels of skills and strength in order to handle the next level. If one burst of someone else's ego is gonna launch our insides into a ego trigger-fest, spewing off defensive insecure bullshit at the first sign of danger - we're like little kids throwing a tantrum - not ready. Management of those bubbles and bursts - the art of allowing them out safely (stuffing is counter-intuitive) while not spewing them all over some poor suspecting victim (whether it be your loved one or the bitchy customer service rep, neither one deserve your own anger burst. It's YOURS not theirs.) Of course, we're human, so obviously there will be times when we lose the battle (sorry you know who you are!!!)

One way to train on management is what I call "hypertriggers." The people in your world that just their presence irritates you. They may be a co-worker, a friend of a friend always tagging along, whoever. But the hypertrigger, for whatever reason, pulls up more ego and judgment than most of us like to admit we have. Can you honestly look at your hypertrigger and claim you're not judging them at all?Practicing navigating through a hypertrigger is a way of "extreme training". Get it where it's the hardest, the easier ones are cake. Aya loves extreme training (or maybe I just do, which is why I get it so much lol!) Ego triggers ego, heart triggers heart. I believe there is good in everybody, and if you can communicate from a heart space vs. an ego-space, the person's heart (hopefully) will open right up. Being active to work through the ego/hypertrigger, and consciously making a choice to FIND THE GOOD in that person, no matter how much that pin they wear pisses you off - that's application. The Medicine may show you something like "hey look, your ego is bigger than you thought. You're only job is to love them" (true examples for me!) How to apply that? Where it's the hardest! That's the opportunity.

We are spirits having a physical experience. We can't compartmentalize our "spiritual experiences" and limit them to meditation, church or ceremony. Life is it! THIS is the training ground. We're on Earth for a reason, in my view, so we can have a PHYSICAL experience of the energies in spirit form. We need feeling receptors to do that. It's great to know that we are all one. Or that time isn't linear. Awesome. My brain can actually wrap itself around that, maybe, 5%. The application and experience is where the real understanding comes. I could read wisdom out of a book. But can I speak from experience? Got to get my ass off the couch and be active in my growth. The Universe, God, Medicine, Angels, whoever...anyone who sets an intention to learn, purge, heal, stretch, and serve - that's all it takes. The intention, then attention. PAYING attention. This is the biggest trick of the Matrix...forgetting.

There is only a very small space in the sum-total collective Western consciousness for the level of wisdom the Medicine holds. I would imagine the same problem occurs in other high level paths as well. You must strengthen up enough mentally, physically, emotionally and spiritually to be able to hold that space larger than it's default Matrix size. Otherwise, it disappears under a blanket for awhile, until you remember it/open back up to it. I've noticed a tremendous difference in this arena from when I first started the back and forth until now. And the areas that disappear now are simply weak spots in myself I'm still working on, but at least I can see what's in queue.Tips and tools (for in and out of ceremony):WRITE SHIT DOWN: Duh. If it's an important enough bit of wisdom, put it in a card on your mirror until it's totally integrated into your body. Move it from short-term to long-term, then straight down to the core through experience and application.

TALK WITH OTHER MEDICINE PEOPLE: Just like ego triggers ego and heart opens heart, Medicine calls up itself as well. By staying in contact with others in the Medicine, talking about the Medicine, reading or watching movies or Medicine art, you call it up within yourself (obviously you could just call it anyway, but we're assuming you forgot.) Reach out - you'd be amazed how many times I haven't said hardly anything on the phone with someone and they just become clear. I have a lot of Medicine in my body at this point, and if they are new, theirs' is still smaller. Mine will activate theirs, even on the phone, and when it pulls up, it's like their eyes open. The more time in the Medicine, the stronger the spirits are in the body, and the easier everything seems to get (at least for me - but still quite stimulating and challenging of course!)

PHYSICAL MANAGEMENT TOOLS: Remember how it feels the next morning after ceremony, when all that purged energetic residue is weighing down your body and skin - and you drag your ass up at 6am to jump into the freezing river? The exhilaration and freedom that comes with those energies being cleaned off? WATER is STILL nature's perfect energetic cleanser (cool, not hot.) Just because you can see it in ceremony and not during the day doesn't mean anything besides your eyes are more closed. When you feel emotions and energies going wacky, take a breath (another thing not to forget!) and put some cold water on your face, and ideally your forehead, crown chakra, neck, chest and arms. This is also helpful when people do energy work and think they picked up something from someone else. Also, as much as it gets judged, many of ya'll have seen the power of the tobacco spirit. Blow smoke over your heart chakra, arms, and cup some over your head. You don't have to inhale, especially if you're an ex-smoker and it's too close for comfort, but there is a medicinal use there. If it's really too much, try Sage or Palo Santo.

TALK WITH THE MEDICINE: Another duh. Converse with her before bed. Ask her to teach you/purge you in the dream world if you like (but then be ready!) The relationship with the Medicine is exactly that - a relationship. These are real spirits we're talking about, not just physical plants. Nurture and cultivate the Medicine living inside of you, and you'll be amazed at the kind of guidance you receive!Which brings me to my last point, which is applied to any spiritual work (Medicine or non): WHEN YOU ASK FOR SOMETHING or SET THE INTENTION, REMEMBER WHAT YOU ASKED FOR!This is the most common "matrix-out" I see. For example, Suzy sets the intention that she wants to come into her true strong feminine self, and be free to live and love as she chooses. Great.Three weeks later Joe shows up. She falls like a schoolgirl. He represents the old pattern she swore she had broken, yet she can't stop. He's one foot in, one foot out. Not malicious at all, but not sure how he feels. She finds herself in teenage-energetic-hell, mind spinning like a hormonal adolescent.Did she take a step backwards? Fall off track?HELL NO. Welcome to life at Accelerated Medicine Pace. You can tone it down if you like, but if you can handle it, it's quite efficient.

How ELSE is Suzy going to go into her old core beliefs and actively/intentionally purge (usually emotional purges, like crying or anger) and restructure them, in ORDER to become her empowered woman self and be free to love? She's walking around with blockers Well, in order to manifest the intention, they've got to go. Suzy is now in Purgeland - where no one can see straight and it's emotional chaos. I highly recommend you tie a rope around someone you trust so they can remind you throughout that you are, in fact, purging. What was the intention again?You really almost need a "sitter" or someone during these intentional accelerated purges. But again, we're in physical world. Reading about how to restructure my consciousness isn't the same as walking into the fire and restructuring it. How do you know? Proof is in the pudding. If you see movement, you're moving. If you don't, you're spinning. Try to tap back into the energy of six months ago - hopefully you can feel the difference.Application and management is the other half of ceremony. You can't have one side of the coin without the other, at least if you want it to be worth anything. Wisdom on paper sounds smart and may feed the ego a bit, but the liberation is in the application. And REACH OUT FOR HELP. Email me, even a quick line of contact is helpful, I can at least send you some Medicine in your dreams. And be gentle on yourself - remember the 'no beat yourself up rule' - you wouldn't punch me in the face while I'm trying to heal a scar, would you? Don't do it to yourself.

Wow I really didn't expect this to be so 'second person'. Hmm. Well we'll go with it. Just writing practice for me anyway. I'm open to feedback! Much love everyone!!!

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Ayahuasca Meghan "SOUL CREATIVE". Dedicated to creative writing, photography and arts from the innerworld dreamscape of Meghan Shannon. This is the sister blog of her Ayahuasca Shamanic Apprenticeship Journal from the Amazon Rainforest (www.ayahuascameghan.blogspot.com) which is a more directly expressive "journal" form of her personal journey. http://www.ayahuascameghan-soulcreative.blogspot.com/

Links Dear to My Heart Infinite Light Peru (our center for Medicine work) Inner Visions Institute for Spiritual Developement (Iyanla Vanzant's Program, Meghan's alma mater) Shamanic Healing Institute (Savage, MD) Meghan's alma mater Takoma Chapel (Silver Spring, MD - Open Spirituality) Natural Horizons Wellness Center (Fairfax, VA) Spiritual Nutrition and Coaching with Rheta Kwan Astrology Readings with David Kleber Psychic Healing with Angel Lightfeather (Sedona, AZ) Obsidian Institute for Financial Literacy Reiki Center of Greater Washington Links Dear to My Heart Infinite Light Peru (our center for Medicine work) Inner Visions Institute for Spiritual Developement (Iyanla Vanzant's Program, Meghan's alma mater) Shamanic Healing Institute (Savage, MD) Meghan's alma mater Takoma Chapel (Silver Spring, MD - Open Spirituality) Natural Horizons Wellness Center (Fairfax, VA) Spiritual Nutrition and Coaching with Rheta Kwan Astrology Readings with David Kleber Psychic Healing with Angel Lightfeather (Sedona, AZ) Obsidian Institute for Financial Literacy Reiki Center of Greater Washington

MYSTERY STREET AND EDDIE COYLE

http://www.bigscreenboston.com/2008/03/book-excerpt-my.html

Book excerpt: 'Mystery Street' We all know The Departed. But fewer of us know the other movie mentioned in Big Screen Boston's subtitle, Mystery Street. So here is an excerpt of the book's entry on this 1950 film noir, the first movie to predominantly feature location shooting in the Hub.

1950. Directed by John Sturges. Written by Sydney Boehm and Richard Brooks. Based on Leonard Spigelgass’ story. With Ricardo Montalban, Sally Forrest, Bruce Bennett, Elsa Lanchester, Marshall Thompson, Edmon Ryan, Betsy Blair and Jan Sterling. Cinematography by John Alton.

HOLLYWOOD FINALLY CAME TO Boston for this 1950 thriller, the first commercial feature to be predominantly shot in the area. Like the later (and lesser) Walk East on Beacon!, Mystery Street (also known as Murder at Harvard) rides the post-war wave of realistic crime dramas, pioneered by low-budget films like Anthony Mann’s T-Men, many of which were shot on location. Director John Sturges’ movie doesn’t quite use the semi-documentary approach that Walk East and other similar movies did. In this case, that’s all for the better. T-Men director of photography John Alton, one of the essential film noir cinematographers, is behind the camera here, bringing a sense of shadowy dread to the Boston locations in this pre-CSI police procedural in which a human skeleton is the only evidence with which an investigation starts.

Alton’s work is most evident in the set-up for the detective work that will follow. The movie opens in a Beacon Hill rooming house where darkness dominates, except for the light that shines on desperate Vivian Helding (Jan Sterling, right in photo above; click on it for larger view), the house phone she’s using and the ajar door of eavesdropping landlady Mrs. Smerrling (Elsa Lanchester). It turns out Vivian, a B-girl at a Scollay Square dive called The Grass Skirt, is pregnant, and the married Hyannis man who fathered the child is giving her the brush-off.

At The Grass Skirt, where Vivian’s boyfriend has stood her up, she gloms onto drunk Henry (Marshall Thompson), “helps” him move his car and keeps driving it to the Cape, where she eventually ditches Henry and meets with the boyfriend, whose face isn’t shown. He shoots her, dumps her body in the ocean and pushes the stolen car into a lake.It’s only months later, when a birdwatcher finds Vivian’s skeleton sticking out of a sandy beach, that the investigation begins. Barnstable County investigator Pete Moralas (Ricardo Montalban) is on the case, which eventually leads him to Beacon Hill, Cambridge and Harvard Medical School’s Department of Legal Medicine in Roxbury. That’s where Dr. McAdoo (Bruce Bennett) helps Moralas identify the body and build a case against unwitting Henry, who initially denies he met Vivian because he’s married and wasn’t supposed to be in The Grass Skirt (he was supposed to be at the Boston Lying-In Hospital with his pregnant wife). But that changes when McAdoo discovers the cause of death was a gunshot, putting Moralas on a collision course with the well-to-do Hyannis boyfriend (Edmon Ryan). He is finally shown to the audience halfway through the movie, when snooping Mrs. Smerrling tries to blackmail him.

As crime thrillers circa 1950 are wont to do, Mystery Street climaxes in a public place, Trinity Station. This long-gone train station adjacent to Back Bay Station is a suitably bustling, urban backdrop for the end chase (its train yard is apparently now part of the Mass. Pike). Although the rooming house is on fictional “Bunker Street,” the building used appears to be on Pinckney Street near Anderson Street (you can see the old New England College of Pharmacy there at one point). Suspect Henry lives in Charlestown (in a forward-looking movie connection, just a half-block from Monument Avenue), while The Grass Skirt exterior is on a studio backlot. Aside from the dunes footage (presumably) it’s unclear if any of the Cape Cod action was done there; the gas station with the greasy spoon attached looks to be in California (its signs for Caloco Oil sure sound West Coast). There’s also a Harvard Yard sequence that turns out to be rather inconsequential (since the cop finds out he has to go over to the Med School), but it adds to the movie’s local color. Amusingly, co-star Thompson (later of TV’s Daktari) appears on the movie’s trailer to offer special thanks to Harvard for its cooperation, something the school generally doesn’t offer anymore.

Like Alton’s artful Hollywood cinematography, non-local flavor comes from the cast, with Lanchester, the bride of Frankenstein herself, practically stealing the show with her proper yet hypocritically opportunistic landlady. Years before he became kitsch, Montalban is a sturdy presence in this brisk B-thriller

Locations: Beacon Hill, Roxbury, Back Bay, Charlestown, Boston; Cambridge; Cape Cod.►Accents: Back in a time when there probably were a greater percentage of area residents with Boston accents than there are now, Mystery Street generally refrains from including them. But there are generic New England accents from Cape Cod characters talking about the found skeleton. And we do get what might be Hollywood’s first overdone Boston accent from Wally Maher, who plays the Boston detective Moralas teams with in the city. Maher, who also voiced the title character in Tex Avery’s Screwy Squirrel cartoons, couldn’t quite get the Boston accent.Local color: Over 50 years later, many of the shooting locations will have you wondering their exact whereabouts, especially Trinity Station. But the movie’s issues also hit close to home at times, specifically the hypocrisy of the landlady, a self-righteous moral guardian who no doubt supported many a Boston book banning, and the elitism of Vivian’s blue-blooded killer, who not only victimizes her, but also feels superior to first-generation American Moralas, and lets him know it.

Book excerpt: 'The Friends of Eddie Coyle' Don't miss the chance to see an archival print of the best damn movie ever made in Boston, The Friends of Eddie Coyle. at the Coolidge Corner Theater on June 5 at 7 pm. I'll be there introducing the movie, and selling and signing books, too. Father to the more recent Boston "neighborhood pictures," from Monument Ave. to Gone Baby Gone, it has never come out on home video.1973. Directed by Peter Yates. Written by Paul Monash. Based on George V. Higgins’ novel. With Robert Mitchum, Peter Boyle, Richard Jordan, Steven Keats, Alex Rocco and Joe Santos. Cinematography by Victor J. Kemper. ALL HAIL EDDIE. THE gritty film adaptation of attorney turned writer George V. Higgins’ terse debut novel is the best movie ever made in Boston, a touchstone with a legendary status enhanced by the fact that it’s never been released on any form of home video. Director Peter (Bullitt) Yates’ movie is one of the few post-1960 color thrillers to capture the desperation and doom of 1940s and 1950s film noir. Of course, it helps to have Robert Mitchum, who headlined such vintage noirs as Out of the Past and Pursued, playing the title character. Mitchum and his hangdog persona perfectly embody the weariness of Coyle, an aging, working-class crook awaiting sentencing for transporting stolen goods who reluctantly becomes a police informer in hopes that his tips to “uncle” will win him leniency.

Book excerpt: 'The Friends of Eddie Coyle' Don't miss the chance to see an archival print of the best damn movie ever made in Boston, The Friends of Eddie Coyle. at the Coolidge Corner Theater on June 5 at 7 pm. I'll be there introducing the movie, and selling and signing books, too. Father to the more recent Boston "neighborhood pictures," from Monument Ave. to Gone Baby Gone, it has never come out on home video.1973. Directed by Peter Yates. Written by Paul Monash. Based on George V. Higgins’ novel. With Robert Mitchum, Peter Boyle, Richard Jordan, Steven Keats, Alex Rocco and Joe Santos. Cinematography by Victor J. Kemper. ALL HAIL EDDIE. THE gritty film adaptation of attorney turned writer George V. Higgins’ terse debut novel is the best movie ever made in Boston, a touchstone with a legendary status enhanced by the fact that it’s never been released on any form of home video. Director Peter (Bullitt) Yates’ movie is one of the few post-1960 color thrillers to capture the desperation and doom of 1940s and 1950s film noir. Of course, it helps to have Robert Mitchum, who headlined such vintage noirs as Out of the Past and Pursued, playing the title character. Mitchum and his hangdog persona perfectly embody the weariness of Coyle, an aging, working-class crook awaiting sentencing for transporting stolen goods who reluctantly becomes a police informer in hopes that his tips to “uncle” will win him leniency.

Like Higgins’ novel—which is almost experimental in its preferred use of two-character dialogues instead of conventional narrative—The Friends of Eddie Coyle atmospherically presents the workaday tug of war between crooks and cops. Seen through the movie’s gutter’seye view of the world, everyone’s looking for a leg up on the other guy, a favor or some sort of insulation from jail (for the crooks) or bad work assignments (for the cops). Eddie Coyle is the common thread running among gun seller Jackie Brown (Steven Keats), bartender/hit man Dillon (Peter Boyle), federal agent Foley (Richard Jordan) and a group of robbers that’s striking suburban banks. As Coyle secures handguns from Jackie for the bankrobbers, Dillon keeps tabs on Eddie’s travels and Foley fields tidbits of info from both men. These tips are cast out like fishing lines, hoping to return a nibble from Foley that might bring a desired favor. One such nibble comes after Eddie sees machine guns in Jackie’s car trunk and hears him say he has to get to the train station at Sharon. He gets there, but so do Foley and a half-dozen other agents. Still, Eddie’s aid in Boston is not enough to get Coyle a break with a New Hampshire prosecutor, and you can feel the vice tighten around him. He’s faced with a no-win situation: do jail time or fink on guys who, unlike younger Jackie, are his contemporaries and cohorts. In its own low-key, Eddie-ish way, The Friends of Eddie Coyle works to a tragic ending that, hard to believe, makes a change in the story that actually improves upon Higgins’ plot.

Eddie Coyle is the first Boston movie with the guts to never be scenic (just look at the Quincy street Coyle lives on, with its row of drab, look-alike houses). It’s a grey, grey movie, because Eddie is stuck in a grey, grey world, lacking the resources to go to sunny Florida (as he laments) or the traction to climb out of his place on the crime ladder. Yates shot the movie in late 1972, with winter approaching, and you can feel the chill in the air. You often see the breath exhaled by characters during the conversations on the Boston Common or outside a Quincy Red Line station. The other locations are grungy spots Thomas Crown would certainly never be caught at, including Dillon’s bar (shot at the Kentucky Tavern at Mass. Ave. and Newbury Street), the cafeteria where Coyle and Jackie first meet (which appears to be on Boylston Street near Tremont), Boston Bowl and Dedham Plaza. A Weymouth bank, Memorial Drive, the old Boston Garden and even grim City Hall Plaza also serve the story very well. And rather than packing up back to Los Angeles for interiors, the production did everything here, even building sets, including the trailer belonging to robber Jimmy Scalise (hometown boy Alex Rocco), in Pier Five on the waterfront.Apparently, Higgins did an uncredited polish on Paul Monash’s script. When I checked with the Higgins archives at the University of South Carolina to see if the late novelist’s papers contained any info on the movie’s locations, the Boston; Quincy; Sharon; Milton; Weymouth; Dedham; Cambridge staff’s perusal of his archival materials from that period turned up at least one reference in his letters to restoring dialogue from the novel to the screenplay. Thirty-five years after it was released to audience indifference, it’s hard to watch The Friends of Eddie Coyle now and not think that it—the most essential movie Hollywood has made in Boston—deserves the awards, acclaim and popularity bestowed upon Mystic River, a lesser movie in the same vein. Oh, well. That’s showbiz.►Locations: Back Bay, North End, Beacon Hill

Boston; Quincy; Sharon; Milton; Weymouth; Dedham; Cambridge

►Accents: Surprisingly good. Mitchum, originally eyed for Peter Boyle’s role, manages to use a convincing Boston accent without losing his own distinctive voice. So Eddie comes off as an emotionally spent Mitchum character, and a neighborhood guy, too. Boyle and Richard Jordan use a light touch with their accents, too. Considering the strong sense of place the locations give the movie, thick accents might have been overkill. These guys sound right at home next to Alex Rocco.►Local color: “Numbah faw, Bobby Aw!” Eddie bellows from the Boston Garden balcony during a Bruins game featuring helmetless players and no ads on the ice or boards. Of course, Eddie and his “friends” would be into the big, bad Bruins (just as they’d be into the Pats today). The hockey sequence appears to have been shot during a real game, and that’s the kind of authenticity you get here. It’s not as if other movie productions were lining up to shoot at the Kentucky Tavern or fluorescent-lit cafeterias. The locations are so real I expected to see Eddie pop into a Zayre at some point, but no such luck.►Aftermath: Higgins fan Elmore Leonard borrowed the androgynous name Jackie Brown for the heroine of his novel, Rum Punch. When Quentin Tarantino made a film of Leonard’s book, he renamed the story Jackie Brown, as did the movie tie-in re-release of the book.

NOIR'S SUBVERSIVE WRITERS AND FILM DIRECTORS

NO JOBS

THE KILLING

http://www.nytimes.com/1999/07/04/magazine/what-they-say-about-stanley-kubrick.html

The Killing (film) From Wikipedia, the free encyclopedia Jump to: navigation, search For the fourth book in the CHERUB series, see The Killing (novel). For the Hatesphere album, see The Killing (EP). The Killing Theatrical release poster Directed by Stanley Kubrick Produced by James B. Harris Written by Stanley KubrickJim Thompson Based on Clean Break byLionel White Narrated by Art Gilmore (uncredited)[1] Starring Sterling HaydenColeen GrayVince EdwardsJay C. FlippenElisha Cook Jr.Marie Windsor Music by Gerald Fried Cinematography Lucien Ballard Editing by Betty Steinberg Distributed by United Artists Release date(s) May 20, 1956 (1956-05-20) (United States) Running time 83 minutes Country United States Language English Budget $320,000[2] The Killing is a 1956 film noir produced by James B. Harris and directed by Stanley Kubrick. It was written by Kubrick and Jim Thompson and based on the novel Clean Break by Lionel White. The drama features Sterling Hayden, Coleen Gray, Vince Edwards and Elisha Cook Jr.[3] Contents[hide] 1 Plot 2 Cast 3 Pre-production 4 Reception 4.1 Critical response 4.2 Awards 5 References 6 External links [edit] Plot Johnny Clay (Sterling Hayden) is a veteran criminal planning one last heist before settling down and marrying Fay (Coleen Gray). He plans to rob two million dollars from the money counting room of a racetrack during a featured race. He assembles a team consisting of a corrupt cop (Ted de Corsia), a betting window teller (Elisha Cook Jr.) to give access to the backroom, a sharpshooter (Timothy Carey) to shoot the favorite horse during the race to distract the crowd, a wrestler (Kola Kwariani) to provide another distraction by provoking a fight at the track bar, and a track bartender (Joe Sawyer). However, the betting window teller, George Peatty, tells his wife, Sherry (Marie Windsor), about the impending robbery. Sherry is bitter at George for not delivering on the promises of wealth he made her at the time of their marriage, and George hopes that telling her about the robbery will placate and impress her. Sherry does not believe him at first; but, after learning that the robbery is real, she enlists her lover, Val Cannon (Vince Edwards), to steal the money from George and his associates. The heist is successful, although the sharpshooter, Nikki, is shot and killed by the police. The conspirators rendezvous at the apartment where they are to meet Johnny and divide up the money. Before Johnny arrives, however, Val appears and holds them up. A shootout ensues, and a badly wounded George is the sole survivor. He goes home and shoots Sherry before dying himself. Johnny, while on his way to the apartment, sees George staggering in the street, and knows that something is wrong. He puts the cash in an old, used suitcase, and he and Fay go to the airport. While boarding their plane, however, the suitcase falls off a cart, breaks open, and the money is swept away by the wind. Fay urges Johnny to flee, but he refuses, stating that there is no use trying to escape. The film ends with two officers coming to arrest him. [edit] Cast Sterling Hayden as Johnny Clay Coleen Gray as Fay Vince Edwards as Val Cannon Jay C. Flippen as Marvin Unger Elisha Cook Jr. as George Peatty Marie Windsor as Sherry Peatty Ted de Corsia as Policeman Randy Kennan Joe Sawyer as Mike O'Reilly James Edwards as Track Parking Attendant Timothy Carey as Nikki Arane Joe Turkel as Tiny Jay Adler as Leo the Loanshark Kola Kwariani as Maurice Oboukhoff Tito Vuolo as Joe Piano - motel manager Dorothy Adams as Mrs. Ruthie O'Reilly Three members of the cast, Hayden, de Corsia, and Carey, had appeared together the previous year in the low budget noir film, Crime Wave. “ I give Stanley a free hand to create, and he leaves the money problems to me. ” —James Harris[2] [edit] Pre-production “ We want to make good movies, and make them cheap. The two are not incompatible. ” —Stanley Kubrick[2] Harris, a "prosperous young television distributor" and Kubrick's "Maecenas,"[2] set up Harris-Kubrick Films with the writer/director; the two convinced United Artists to put up $200,000 for the film, with Harris adding $120,000.[2] The film was the first of three on which Harris and Kubrick collaborated as producer and director in a span of less than ten years; Harris got the rights to the novel after Frank Sinatra, who had approached the author before Harris, hesitated during negotiations.[1] Working titles for the film were Clean Break and Bed of Fear.[1] The art director, Ruth Sobotka, was Kubrick's wife at the time.[1] [edit] Reception [edit] Critical response The film performed poorly at the box office and was in general, not critically acclaimed,[1] in spite of Time magazine's prediction that it would "make a killing at the cash booths" and its assertion that Kubrick "has shown more audacity with dialogue and camera than Hollywood has seen since the obstreperous Orson Welles went riding out of town on an exhibitors' poll."[2] A.H. Weiler, film critic for The New York Times, wrote, "Though The Killing is composed of familiar ingredients and it calls for fuller explanations, it evolves as a fairly diverting melodrama. ... Aficionados of the sport of kings will discover that Mr. Kubrick's cameras have captured some colorful shots of the ponies at Bay Meadows track. Other observers should find The Killing an engrossing little adventure."[4] Variety magazine liked the acting and wrote, "This story of a $2 million race track holdup and steps leading up to the robbery, occasionally told in a documentary style which at first tends to be somewhat confusing, soon settles into a tense and suspenseful vein which carries through to an unexpected and ironic windup...Hayden socks over a restrained characterization, and Cook is a particular standout. Windsor is particularly good, as she digs the plan out of her husband and reveals it to her boyfriend."[5] Years later, The Killing gained a "cult" following.[1] For example, Eddie Muller placed the film at 15th among his top 25 favorite noir films, saying "If you believe that a good script is a succession of great scenes, you can't do better than this. Hey, that scene was so good, let's do it again from somebody else's perspective.".[6] In his 1999 book Dark City: The Lost World of Film Noir, Muller wrote, "With The Killing, Stanley Kubrick offered a monument to the classic caper film, and a fresh gust of filmmaking in one package. Who knew when he wrapped it, that it would be the last amusing movie he'd ever make?"[7] In 1999, film critic Mike Emery wrote, "Kubrick's camerawork was well on the way to finding the fluid style of his later work, and the sparse, low-budget circumstances give the film a raw, urgent sort of look. As good as the story and direction are, though, the true strength of The Killing lies in the characters and characterizations."[8] The same year, director Peter Bogdanovich, writing for The New York Times, noted that while The Killing did not make money, it, along with Harris-Kubrick's second film Paths of Glory, established "Kubrick's reputation as a budding genius among critics and studio executives."[9] [edit] Awards Nominations BAFTA Film Award, Best Film from any Source, USA; 1957. [edit] References ^ a b c d e f "Notes for The Killing (1956)". Turner Classic Movies. http://www.tcm.com/tcmdb/title.jsp?stid=17624&category=Notes. Retrieved 2010-07-21. ^ a b c d e f "Cinema: The New Pictures". Time. June 4, 1956. http://www.time.com/time/printout/0,8816,867001,00.html. Retrieved 2010-07-21. ^ The Killing at the Internet Movie Database. ^ Weiler, A.H. (May 21, 1956). "The Killing: New Film at the Mayfair Concerns a Robbery". The New York Times. http://movies.nytimes.com/movie/review?res=9E03E3D9123BE333A05752C2A9639C946792D6CF. Retrieved February 7, 2008. ^ "The Killing". Variety. 1956. http://www.variety.com/review/VE1117792301.html. Retrieved February 7, 2008. ^ Muller, Eddie. "Endless Night: 25 Noir Films That Will Stand the Test of Time". Muller's official website. http://www.eddiemuller.com/top25noir.html. Retrieved 2010-07-21. ^ Muller, Eddie (May 1998). Dark City: The Lost World of Film Noir. p. ?[page needed]. ISBN 0312180764. ^ Emery, Mike. The Austin Chronicle, film review, March 15, 1999. Last accessed: February 7, 2008. ^ Bogdanovich, Peter (July 4, 1999). "What They Say About Stanley Kubrick". The New York Times. http://www.nytimes.com/1999/07/04/magazine/what-they-say-about-stanley-kubrick.html. Retrieved 2010-07-21. [edit] External links The Killing at the Internet Movie Database The Killing at the TCM Movie Database The Killing film trailer at YouTube

STANLEY KUBRICK Single-Page After Stanley Kubrick died in his sleep of a heart attack on March 7, even the New York tabloids reported the news with an auteur slant, headlining the director's generally bleak view of life. Words like ''secretive,'' ''reclusive,'' ''strange,'' ''mysterious'' and ''cold'' were repeatedly used to describe him. It's true that the 13 feature-length films he made over 40 years present a disenchanted, sardonic and generally pessimistic view of humanity, but the lifelong friends, intimate associates and family members I spoke to conjure a far more complicated picture of a man who could be deeply reserved but also outgoing, meticulous and laid back, loving and self-absorbed. The precocious son of a Bronx doctor, Kubrick became a staff photographer for Look magazine at 17, but from the start he was captivated by the movies. He began as a kind of one-man band, financing, directing, producing, writing, shooting and editing three short documentaries -- Day of the Fight'' (1950), ''Flying Padre'' (1951) and ''The Seafarers'' (1953) -- and then doing virtually the same thing for his first two extremely low-budget features, ''Fear and Desire'' (1953), backed entirely by an uncle, and ''Killer's Kiss'' (1955).

In 1954, having already run through two marriages, Kubrick moved to Los Angeles and formed a production company with his friend James B. Harris, through which he made his first two professional pictures, the film noir ''The Killing'' (1956), with Sterling Hayden, and the powerful antiwar drama ''Paths of Glory'' (1957), starring Kirk Douglas. While shooting ''Paths of Glory'' Kubrick fell in love with and wed the German painter and actress Christiane Harlan, with whom he would rear two daughters along with Christiane's young daughter from an earlier marriage. ''The Killing'' and ''Paths of Glory'' did not make money, but they did make Kurbick's reputation as a budding genius among critics and studio executives. In 1960, Kirk Douglas hired Kubrick to replace another director on ''Spartacus,'' the only all-Hollywood production Kubrick would ever make, and his first box-office success. He hated the experience. Disenchanted with the industry and having developed a phobia about flying, the director soon afterward moved with his family to England, never again to travel far from home.

http://filmsnoir.net/film_noir/still-cause-for-alarm.html

ANTI FASCISM AND THE WaRNINGS -JOURNEY INTO FEAR ERIC AMBLER

Noir is subversive. Noir lifts the veil of normality to reveal the chaos below. The underbelly of reality. The insanity of sanity. The furtive destructiveness of obsession. The truth behind the lies. The disaster of success. The ‘ghost in the machine’. Many of the artists of the classic noir cycle, from the writers of the hard-boiled fiction of the 20s, 30s, and 40s to those involved in the making of the films noir of the 40s and 50s, were ‘subversives’. Artists whose art was a politic statement, a social critique, a thesis on the nature of freedom and social responsibility. Novelists like Dashiell Hammett, Raymond Chandler, Ira Wolfert, Graham Greene, and Eric Ambler. Screenwriters like Dalton Trumbo, John Paxton, A. I. Bezzeridis, and Carl Foreman. Film-makers and actors like Abraham Polonsky, Jules Dassin, Orson Welles, Edward Dmytryk, Adrian Scott, Joan Scott, John Garfield, and Marsha Hunt. A number of these artists were vilified and their careers destroyed during the ‘red menace’ years of HUAC and the blacklist. What was ignored then and largely forgotten now is that these men and women were united and largely animated by a common cause: anti-fascism. These liberals and leftists were warning of the dangers of fascism well before the outbreak of WW2, when many of the rightists that later prosecuted the anti-communist hysteria of the immediate cold-war period were apologists of fascism. Eric Ambler was a thriller writer whose best work was written during the late 30s and early 40s. His novels Journey into Fear (1943) and The Mask of Dimitrios (1944) were made into films noir during the war. In 1938 Ambler published ‘Cause for Alarm’ – not related to any movie with the same title – a story about a British munitions engineer, Marlow, haplessly caught up in espionage in Fascist Italy. The protagonist is aided in his escape from fascist death squads by a mysterious American, Zaleshoff, who may be a Soviet spy but is definitely a socialist. Caught in a snow storm just before crossing into Yugoslavia to freedom, the pair is given shelter for the night by an artist and her elderly father. It transpires that the father is a mathematician, a Professor Beronelli, whose career was destroyed after he refused to pledge a loyalty oath to fascism. The trauma has plunged the man into insanity. The two fugitives discover this after a reviewing the professor’s notes on a perpetual motion machine, and after they realize the daughter is helping them even though she is aware of their fugitive status. After the old man goes to bed, Zaleshoff says to Marlow: ‘Sure! That’s right. What a tragedy! We’re horrified. Hell! Beronelli went crazy because he had to, because it hurt him too much to stay sane in a crazy world. He had to find a way of escape, to make his own world, a world in which he counted, a world in which a man could work according to his rights and know that there was nobody to stop him. His mind created the lie for him and now he’s happy. He’s escaped from everybody’s insanity into his own private one. But you and me, Marlow, we’re still in with the other nuts. The only difference between our obsessions and Beronelli’s is that we share ours with the other citizens of Europe. We’re still listening sympathetically to guys telling us that you can only secure peace and justice with war and injustice, that the patch of earth on which one nation lives is mystically superior to the patch their neighbours live on, that a man who uses a different set of noises to praise God is your natural born enemy. We escape into lies. We don’t even bother to make them good lies. If you say a thing often enough, if you like to believe it, it must be true. That’s the way it works. No need for thinking. Let’s follow our bellies. Down with intelligence. You can’t change human nature, buddy. Bunk! Human nature is part of the social system it works in. Change your system and you change your man. When honesty really is good business, you’ll be honest. When rooting for the next guy means that you’re rooting for yourself too, the brotherhood of man becomes a fact. But you and I don’t think that, do we, Marlow? We still have our pipe dreams. You’re British. You believe in England, in muddling through, in business, and in the dole to keep quiet the starving suckers who have no business to mind. If you were an American you’d believe in America and making good, in breadlines and in baton charges. Beronelli’s crazy. Poor devil. A shocking tragedy. He believes that the laws of thermodynamics are all wrong. Crazy? Sure he is. But we’re crazier. We believe that the laws of the jungle are allright!’Read more: http://filmsnoir.net/film_noir/still-cause-for-alarm.html#ixzz1ILMYAt9Q Under Creative Commons License: Attribution

What They Say About Stanley Kubrick
By Peter BogdanovichPublished: July 04, 1999
Correction Appended
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After Stanley Kubrick died in his sleep of a heart attack on March 7, even the New York tabloids reported the news with an auteur slant, headlining the director's generally bleak view of life. Words like ''secretive,'' ''reclusive,'' ''strange,'' ''mysterious'' and ''cold'' were repeatedly used to describe him. It's true that the 13 feature-length films he made over 40 years present a disenchanted, sardonic and generally pessimistic view of humanity, but the lifelong friends, intimate associates and family members I spoke to conjure a far more complicated picture of a man who could be deeply reserved but also outgoing, meticulous and laid back, loving and self-absorbed.
The precocious son of a Bronx doctor, Kubrick became a staff photographer for Look magazine at 17, but from the start he was captivated by the movies. He began as a kind of one-man band, financing, directing, producing, writing, shooting and editing three short documentaries -- Day of the Fight'' (1950), ''Flying Padre'' (1951) and ''The Seafarers'' (1953) -- and then doing virtually the same thing for his first two extremely low-budget features, ''Fear and Desire'' (1953), backed entirely by an uncle, and ''Killer's Kiss'' (1955).

THE ORAL LAW IN MAN'S HANDS AND THE INFALLIBILITY OF THE SAGES

Torah is greater than priesthood and kingship, for kingship is acquired with 30 qualities, priesthood is acquired with 24, whereas the Torah is acquired with 48 ways. These are: ... (22) trust in the Sages..." We're now up to Part III of a topic which many find one of the most difficult to accept about traditional Judaism -- trust in the Sages. The Torah seems to insist that we accept the words and decisions of the Sages to be on par with Scripture itself. We are told to "trust" them -- even beyond what we understand or agree with, even if "they tell you your right is your left and your left is your right" (see again Deuteronomy 17:8-13). The question we have been dealing is: Were the scholars of the Mishna and Talmud perfect? As great as they were, were they infallible? And theoretically if they did err, why should I (who somehow knows better) be bound by their decisions? Is what they wrote "Torah" per se -- or is it merely their own imperfect attempt to make sense of the same Scripture and tradition we can understand ourselves? Let us briefly review the discussion up until now before we arrive at the final hurdle. As we explained, most of our tradition was given to us orally rather than in written form. Originally, only Scripture itself was recorded in writing. Most of the explanation -- the Oral Law -- was memorized and passed from teacher to student until the period of the Mishna and Talmud many centuries later. We explained that the Torah had to be in an oral state. The world is an ever-changing and developing place. New societies and situations arise; new technologies develop. There is no way a written work could tell man how every person should act in every possible situation from the Revelation till the End of Days. Rather, G-d gave us a *dynamic* Torah -- in a state we would have to explain and interpret ourselves. Man would have the task of understanding the Torah's eternal truths and applying them to myriads of people and situations. The Oral Law, as a living document, would bridge this gap. It would be the tool through which man would take G-d's infinite and absolute knowledge and apply it to the relativity of the physical world. SETTLING DISPUTE BY THE MAJORITY OPINION The key to this arrangement is that G-d placed the Torah in man's hands. Since we were entrusted with the mission of understanding the Torah and applying it to mankind, G-d would have to *give* us the Torah as well. Could G-d have us interpret and live by the Torah, yet fault us if we make mistakes? G-d gave us the tools for understanding the Torah, the various methods of interpretation, but at that point the Torah was no longer in the hands of Heaven. It was ours to understand and apply. And if we would err -- after -- and only after -- our greatest efforts -- that is the only Torah G-d gave us, and it is the one we would have to live with. (In addition, the Torah provides guidelines for settling debates among the Sages -- primarily by following the majority opinion. It also provides criteria for defining who is a true and authentic scholar -- although that has not gone uncontested over the ages.) We then introduced the final issue. We quoted the passage in the Talmud (Bava Metziah 59) in which during a debate a Heavenly voice spoke up in favor of R. Eliezer's opinion, yet the remaining scholars (who were in the majority) rejected it, stating that the Torah was no longer in Heaven's hands to decide. To this we asked that we might accept the Sages could make an occasional mistake and it would be binding upon us. But here the scholars *knew* they were wrong -- their understanding of the Torah was not in accordance with G-d's original intent. If so, how in the world could they have persisted? We now arrive at an even deeper issue. The task of the sages of each generation is not merely to "figure out" what G-d meant in the Torah. And if they err, it is not just simply a matter that their mistakes can be forgiven. Rather, the task of the sages is infinitely more profound: to bring down the Torah from the heavens to the world of man and to fathom how their particular generation relates to the Torah. What does the Torah -- in its many possible interpretations -- mean to *us*, not what did it mean to G-d in heaven? As we explained above, it is the task of man to bring G-d's Torah down to this world, applying its timeless principles to the relativity of man and the physical world. This is the charge of the greatest scholars of each generation. They must take the Torah from the level of the abstract to the down-to-earth. They must ascertain what the Torah means to *them*, and what particular messages and applications are most relevant to their times. This is because the Torah does not and cannot on its own reside in the world of man. The Torah is eternal and infinite; the world physical, finite and relativistic. It is the task of the sages to bridge this gap, to understand the Torah as they are best able, and to fathom what particular messages are most relevant to their day and age. Thus, amazingly, when the sages rejected R. Eliezer's opinion, they were not interested in how G-d understood the Torah. The Torah was truly no longer in heaven. It was theirs. They realized they were the leading scholars of the age. They were entrusted with the task of bringing the Torah down to their generation. They were not studying the abstract law of heaven, but the practical law of man. And so, as great as R. Eliezer no doubt was, the sages decided to -- in fact they had to -- reject his opinion. If anything, he was *too* right. His arguments were perhaps too sharp and profound for them to grasp, and he touched upon a level of truth they simply could not comprehend. And they recognized that his opinion was just not one their generation was worthy of. (Based in part in thoughts heard from my teacher R. Moshe Eisemann.) WE CAN NEVER BE TOO SURE OF OURSELVES It should also be borne in mind that the Sages tell us there are many valid interpretations to the Torah. The Midrash writes that there are 70 "faces" (facets) to the Torah (Bamidbar Rabbah 13:15). There are many valid ways of understanding each part of the Torah -- some more literal and some more profound -- but all valid according to the legitimate methods of Torah study handed to us. Thus, the Sages who contested R. Eliezer did not consider themselves "wrong". Perhaps their opinion was not the most profound in an absolute sense. But they correctly recognized that it was the only explanation their generation could fathom. I'd like to illustrate this principle with yet another fascinating episode from the Talmud (Shabbos 12b). I recognize this topic is one of our most profound and to be honest, most difficult to explain. Hopefully another illustration will shed a little more light -- and then we'll call it a day. The Sages of the Mishna forbade reading from the light of an oil lamp on the Sabbath for fear the reader will tilt the lamp to adjust the light (causing the fire to burn better on the Sabbath). R. Yishmael son of Elisha responded: "I will read and I will not tilt." He felt, no doubt rightly, that he was so cognizant of the Sabbath that it could never possibly slip his mind. He went ahead and ignored the decree and the inevitable occurred: he found himself tilting the lamp. a peron cannot dissociate himself from his generation My teacher, R. Yochanan Zweig (www.talmudicu.edu), however, saw a much deeper lesson. One person cannot disassociate himself from his generation. Just as the sages of a generation bring down the Torah according to their ability, they also recognize precisely how it applies to their generation. This is a part of their mission of applying the Torah. They define the reality of Torah for their day -- what precisely is the Torah their generation is privy to. If the Sages correctly see that their generation requires an extra safeguard for Torah observance, they are defining how their generation (and future generations) relate to Judaism -- in this case, to the Sabbath. The Sages of the Mishna saw that as a whole, their generation did not have the same awe of Sabbath that previous generations did. There was the need for an additional fence or decree. They had therefore defined their generation's relationship to the Sabbath. And that was now the Sabbath that existed for them. And so, no individual, no matter how great, could relate any differently. We now have an inkling of the magnitude of the Sages' mission -- then and today. They see Torah, they define it, and they bring it to man and the world. Over the generations, our greatest leaders have seen the need for new concepts and new stresses within Judaism -- for Chassidus, the mussar (ethics) movement, better education for boys and girls, more emphasis on family harmony, etc. (Not, of course, that they introduced something foreign to Judaism, but the Sages saw need for new stresses or safeguards.) Each generation would then have its own unique approach to the Torah, and each would make its own contribution. And so, the Torah in all its wonder and eternity, would assume greater freshness, relevance and vitality in each and every generation

Crime begins with God.

RAW DEAL http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Raw_Deal_(1948_film)

Raw Deal (1948 film) From Wikipedia, the free encyclopedia Jump to: navigation, search For the 1986 film, see Raw Deal (1986 film). Raw Deal Theatrical release poster Directed by Anthony Mann Produced by Edward Small Written by Story:Arnold B. ArmstrongAudrey AshleyScreenplay:Leopold AtlasJohn C. Higgins Starring Dennis O'KeefeClaire TrevorMarsha HuntJohn Ireland Music by Paul Sawtell Cinematography John Alton Editing by Alfred DeGaetano Distributed by Eagle-Lion Films Release date(s) May 26, 1948 Running time 79 minutes Country United States Language English Raw Deal is a 1948 film noir directed by Anthony Mann and shot by cinematographer John Alton.[1] Contents[hide] 1 Plot 2 Cast 3 Critical reception 4 See also 5 References 6 External links [edit] Plot Prisoner Joe Sullivan (Dennis O'Keefe), who has "taken the fall" for an unspecified crime, breaks jail with the help of his girl, Pat (Claire Trevor). Neither Joe nor Pat is aware that the escape has been facilitated as a set-up by mobster Rick Coyle (Raymond Burr), a sadistic pyromaniac, who has arranged for Joe to be killed during the break-out in order to avoid confronting him and paying Joe his agree-upon share of $50,000 for the crime. When the break-out scheme succeeds, contrary to Rick's expectations, Rick decides that he must have Joe done in some other way, by somebody else. In the course of their run, Pat and Joe kidnap a social worker, Ann (Marsha Hunt) who has been visiting Joe in prison, trying to reform him. This begins a doomed film noir love triangle. A fight with a vicious thug ends when Ann shoots Joe's attacker in the back. After this act of murder, Ann realizes she is in love with Joe. Relenting, he sends her away and prepares to flee the country with Pat. In their hotel room, Pat receives a phone call from Rick's associate warning them that Ann has been seized by Rick, and will be harmed if Joe and Pat do not come out from hiding. Pat does not disclose the nature of the phone call, but instead tells Joe that it was a call from the hotel desk clerk about their check-out time, since she is anxious to avoid telling him anything about Ann that would lead him to hesitate beginning a new life with Pat. After boarding a ship to flee the country, Joe attempts to convince Pat that they can start over a new life together, however Pat finally realizes that Joe will always be thinking of Ann. Pat realizes she must tell Joe that Ann is in danger and does so. Before the ship sets sail, Joe races to save Ann and kill her captor Rick. Under the cover of a thick fog, Joe manages to get past Rick's thugs who are positioned to ambush Joe, and sneaks into Rick's room. Surprised by Joe’s sudden intrusion, a sudden gunfight erupts with Rick and Joe shooting each other and inadvertently starting a fire. Joe and Rick, both wounded, fight hand to hand with Joe finally pushing Rick through an upper story window to his death. Mortally wounded, Ann comforts the dying Joe in her arms as Pat looks on. [edit] Cast Dennis O'Keefe as Joseph Emmett (Joe) Sullivan Claire Trevor as Pat Cameron Marsha Hunt as Ann Martin John Ireland as Fantail Raymond Burr as Rick Coyle Curt Conway as Spider Chili Williams as Marcy Regis Toomey as Police Capt. Fields Whit Bissell as Murderer Cliff Clark as Gates [edit] Critical reception When the film was released, The New York Times film critic Bosley Crowther, panned the film, "But this, of course, is a movie—and a pretty low-grade one, at that—in which sensations of fright and excitement are more diligently pursued than common sense...Except for the usual moral—to wit, that crime does not pay—the only thing proved by this picture is that you shouldn't switch sweethearts in mid-lam.[2] In Girl and a Gun: The Complete Guide to Film Noir, David N. Meyer wrote "It's the richest cinematography in noir outside of Orson Welles' Citizen Kane."[3] [edit] See also List of American films of 1948 [edit] References ^ Raw Deal at the Internet Movie Database. ^ Crowther, Bosley (July 9, 1948 accessdate=August 31, 2008). "Raw Deal (1948)". The New York Times. http://movies.nytimes.com/movie/review?res=9904EFD8123EE03BBC4153DFB1668383659EDE. ^ Meyer, David N. (1998). A Girl and A Gun: The Complete Guide to Film Noir. ISBN 0-380-79067-X. [edit] External links Raw Deal at the Internet Movie Database Retrieved from "http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Raw_Deal_(1948_film)"

Crime begins with God. It will end with man, when he finds God again. Crime is everywhere, in all the fibres and roots of our being. Every minute of the day adds fresh crimes to the calendar, both those which are detected and punished, and those which are not. The criminal hunts down the criminal. The judge condemns the judger. The innocent torture the innocent… Can you hold the mirror to iniquity when it is close at hand? Have you looked into the labyrinth of your own despicable heart? Have you sometimes envied the thug for his forthrightness? The study of crime begins with the knowledge of oneself. All that you despise, all that you loathe, all that you reject, all that you condemn and seek to convert by punishment springs from you. The source of it is God whom you place outside, above and beyond. Crime is identification, first with God, then with your own image. Crime is all that lies outside the pack and which is envied, coveted, lusted after. Crime flashes a million brilliant knife blades every minute of the day, and in the night too when waking gives way to dream. Crime is such a tough, such an immense tar­paulin, stretching from infinity to infinity. Where are the monsters who know not crime? What realms do they inhabit? What prevents them from snuffing out the universe? - Henry Miller, ‘The Air-Conditioned Nightmare’ (New Directions, NY, 1945) pp 86-87Read more: http://filmsnoir.net/film_noir/noir-poets-henry-miller.html#ixzz1IFFOx3yD Under Creative Commons License: Attribution

Sam Juliano December 1, 2010 at 2:48 am(Edit) Here’s another from Miller: “The city is loveliest when the sweet death racket begins. Her own life lived in defiance of nature, her electricity, her frigidaires, her soundproof walls, the glint of lacquered nails, the plumes that wave across the corrugated sky. Here in the coffin depths grow the everlasting flowers sent by telegraph.” Miller’s language is vivid and textured, and his philosophy uncompromising. He is unquestionably a gven for this distinguished series, but your own passage here is a lucid examination of the connection between crime, God and the universe. It’s absolutely stunning.Read more: http://filmsnoir.net/film_noir/noir-poets-henry-miller.html#ixzz1IFH4QdHH Under Creative Commons License: Attribution

Henry Miller’s “On the Road” The Air-Conditioned Nightmare Henry Miller Review By Dan Geddes Henry Miller is famous for leaving New York for Paris in 1930, and writing sexually-explicitly literary novels that were banned in the United States for over thirty years. His notoriety spread, however, when American servicemen discovered Miller’s novels during the liberation of Europe in 1944-45, and smuggled copies entered the U.S. Miller lived abroad for ten years, leaving France only three months before the outbreak of the Second World War. After a brief time in Greece (which produced his classic travelogue The Colossus of Marousi), Miller returned to America, and set out on a cross-country journey to re-discover his homeland. The result was The Air-Conditioned Nightmare (1945). After an introduction about Miller’s ex-patriate status at the time of his cross-country trip, each chapter addresses a particular American locale, and an emblematic person from each stop on his journey. Miller’s usual remarks about non-artistic people or places as dead is manifested throughout the book. While Miller’s prose vibrates with colorful insights and unusual words, he also issues summary judgments constantly. In that way, Miller is something of a moralist, a moralist in favor of the artistic-hedonistic lifestyle. Miller is a great champion for the bohemian life in both his life and work, but he often betrays his impatience with the lives of simpler folk. True, in the course of issuing so many judgments, he will arbitrarily single out certain simple folk for praise, but Miller’s work is so full of judgment, even as he protests, mock-modestly, about how little he knows. So The Air-Conditioned Nightmare is a collection of sketches, all infused by Miller’s endless judgments and generalizations, variously insightful, humorous, poetic, elitist. Consider: “Walt Disney…is the master of the nightmare…Disney works fast—like greased lightning. That’s how we’ll all operate soon. What we dream we become. We’ll get the knack of it soon. We’ll learn how to annihilate the whole planet in the wink of an eye—just wait and see” (40-41). “The most difficult adjustment an expatriate has to make, on returning to his native land, is in this realm of conversation. The impression one has, at first, is that there is no conversation. We do not talk—we bludgeon one another with facts and theories gleaned from cursory readings of newspapers, magazines, and digests.” (109). Since he eschews any importance at all to political movements, Miller feels free to say nearly anything in the way of criticizing the system. Many of his comments appear irresponsible. When he meets an ex-con on a train, Miller and his traveling companion later track him down to see if they can be of help to him. Miller fulminates that we are all as guilty as the ex-con, who has a heart after all, and that prisons only develop the criminal skills of his inhabitants. This is typical Miller: he does point out some of the worst aspects of the criminal justice system (as he does in other books), but of course cannot offer any practical alternative. He has only the idealists’ wish that war and crime would go away, and he apportions blame to society for causing these evils, and using naked force to maintain a corrupt society. Miller does his job as a travel writer, providing the local color, the sights and the sounds and the personalities of each place. Miller’s main charm is his enthusiasm. Even while denouncing American cities as godforsaken holes, Miller prides himself on being able to find the good in it, the few eccentric characters that perhaps justify a place’s existence. Much of Miller’s fulminating against the soullessness of America will be familiar to readers of other Miller books, such as Tropic of Capricorn. Americans are awash in consumer commodities, which they mistake for tokens of happiness. Miller’s critique of the American system is far from a Marxist one, though it may appear that way to some readers. Miller repeatedly avows that he is uninterested in political reform, and we don’t hear him calling for unionization of the workers. Miller’s critiques from the artist’s perspective, especially a supposedly spiritually motivated writer’s perspective. People must free themselves from their own slavery. Miller repeatedly invokes the character of the 19th century Indian mystic Vivekananda as the greatest sage of our age. Vivekananda visited America, and attempted to spread his message; Miller tells us that one evening Vivekananda looked at the faces in the audience and found them so utilitarian minded that he was filled with despair, and refused to give his speech. Miller also enjoys European or Eastern sages to critique America’s spiritual bankruptcy. Miller’s critiques appear all the more prescient, considering he was writing The Air-Conditioned Nightmare in 1940-1. He sees the mass media as bankrupt, and singles out newspapers, movies, radio and Disney for particular contempt. He doubts that radio’s world-wide reach will do anything to make humanity—especially Americans—feel more connected. “We get about as much information about the other peoples of this globe, through the movies and the radio, as the Martians get about us.” (44). The Air-Conditioned Nightmare is an especially important Miller work, as it was not banned in the U.S., as were Tropic of Cancer and Tropic of Capricorn. Miller’s influence on the Beats is obvious. The Air-Conditioned Nightmare reads like the Ur-text for Kerouac’s On the Road. Miller’s songs of praise for sex, art, food, freedom from normal bourgeois life are all repeated by the Beat writers.

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HENRY MILLER BIO AND CRITICISM

Henry Miller Encyclopedia of World Biography 2004 COPYRIGHT 2004 The Gale Group Inc. (Hide copyright information) Copyright /**/ Henry Miller American author Henry Miller (1891-1980) was a major literary force in the late 1950s largely because his two most important novels, prohibited from publication and sale in the United States for many years, tested Federal laws concerning art and pornography. Born December 26, 1891 in Brooklyn, New York City, Henry Miller grew up in Brooklyn and briefly attended the City College of New York. From 1909 to 1924 he worked at various jobs, including employment with a cement company, assisting his father at a tailor shop, and sorting mail for the Post Office. While in the messenger department of Western Union, he started a novel. Throughout this period he had a troubled personal life and had two unsuccessful marriages (throughout his life he married five women and divorced all of them). Determined to become a writer, Miller went to Paris, where, impoverished, he remained for nearly a decade. In 1934 he composed Tropic of Cancer (United States ed., 1961), a loosely constructed autobiographical novel concerning the emotional desolation of his first years in Paris. Notable for its graphic realism and Rabelaisian gusto, it won praise from T. S. Eliot and Ezra Pound. Many were outraged by the sexual passages, however, and the author had to go to court to lift a ban on his work. The controversy caused it to become a best-seller, although critics continued to debate its literary merits. Black Spring (1936; United States ed., 1963) and Tropic of Capricorn (1939; United States ed., 1962) are similar in style and feeling, drawing from the experiences of Miller's boyhood in Brooklyn and formative years as an expatriate. In 1939 Miller visited his friend the British novelist Lawrence Durrell in Greece. The Colossus of Maroussi (1941), depicting his adventures with the natives of the Greek islands, and one of the finest modern travel books, resulted. Returning to the United States in 1940, Miller settled permanently on the Big Sur coast of California. His acute and often hilarious criticisms of America are recorded in The Air-conditioned Nightmare (1945) and Remember to Remember (1947). The Time of the Assassins (1956), a provocative study of the French poet Arthur Rimbaud, states eloquently Miller's artistic and philosophic credo. Big Sur and the Oranges of Hieronymus Bosch (1958) deals with Miller's California friends. Miller's major fiction of this period was the massive trilogy The Rosy Crucifixion, including Sexus (1949), Plexus (1953), and Nexus (1960). These retell his earlier erotic daydreams but lack the earlier violence of language. Miller's correspondence with Durrell was published in 1962 and his letters to Anaïs Nin in 1965. His The World of Lawrence: A Passionate Appreciation (1980) is about the life and career of his literary compatriot, D. H. Lawrence. Opus Pistorum (1984) is a novel reputedly written by Miller in the early 1940s when he needed money; most critics consider the work to be pure pornography and some question whether Miller was the actual author. In his later years Miller was admired mainly for his role as prophet and visionary. Denouncing the empty materialism of modern existence, he called for a new religion of body and spirit based upon the ideas of Friedrich Nietzsche, Walt Whitman, and D. H. Lawrence. Miller's novels, despite sordid material and obscene language, at their best are intensely lyrical and spiritually affirmative. With his freedom of language and subject he paved the way for such Beat Generation writers as Jack Kerouac and Allen Ginsberg. Miller lived his final years in seclusion pursuing his lifelong interest of watercolor painting. He died on June 7, 1980 in Pacific Palisades, California. Further Reading For more on Miller's life and work, see J.D. Brown's Henry Miller (1986). Book-length critical studies are Edwin Corle, The Smile at the Foot of the Ladder (1948), and Ihab Hassan, The Literature of Silence: Henry Miller and Samuel Beckett (1967). For equally valuable insights and biographical information see Alfred Perles, My Friend Henry Miller (1955); Lawrence Durrell and Alfred Perles, Art and Outrage: A Correspondence about Henry Miller (1959); Annette K. Baxter, Henry Miller, Expatriate (1961); Kingsley Widmer, Henry Miller (1963); and William A. Gordon, The Mind and Art of Henry Miller (1967). The largest collection of critical essays is George Wickes, ed., Henry Miller and the Critics (1963). □

IKAROS AS HEALING ACCOMPANYING AYAHUASCA

IKAROS AS HEALING ACCOMPANYING AYAHUASCA

Note additional sources in this blog on Ikaros and its function as music for healing

The new album, Versos Maestros: Ayahuasca Ikaros features three generations of master ayahuasqueros and curanderos: the late legendary Don Solon Tello, Don Guillermo Ojanama and Don Evangelino Murayay (Jose Campos). These healing songs for ayahuasca journeys were recorded over several years of ceremonial work by Mamancuna's Jackie Bobrowsky. The different singing styles that the listener can quickly notice are only but a few examples of the spectrum of complexity of personal interpretation of ayahuasca shamans, ayahuasqueros and curanderos. These conscientious interpretations have been the result of life-long endeavors to master the art of healing through sound while under the effect of the medicine. This new work builds on the "El Canto del Tiempo" CD, which featured live recordings of Jose Campo's (Don Evangelino) beautiful and healing Ikaros. Alexandre Tannous, ethnomusicologistExcerpts from Versos Maestros, together with animated visionary plant experiences, are available at http://www.blacktartan.com/ and www.youtube.com/blacktartantube. The tracks and full album are available for download on CDBaby, Amazon and iTunes. Jose Campos will be performing live on May 7th at the Manifestation Celebration in Dallas, Texas. 3-30-11 Alexandre Tannous's blog Login or register to post comments ShareThis Printer-friendly version Tags: Music Ayahausca

Each time a shaman dies, a body of knowledge dies with them. In our current world climate it has never been more vital that we bring awareness to the teachings of the Amazonian and Andean cultures into our every day lives. It is our collective responsibility as stewards of the earth to conserve these fast disappearing cultures, their knowledge and wisdom that has only been transmitted orally for thousands of years.Drawing from his twenty years of experience as a music producer, Jackie Bobrowsky started an independent initiative to record and preserve the sacred healing music of the foremost curanderos (shamans) of the Amazon and the Andes. Versos Maestros 0:00 / 0:00Right-click and save as to download. Versos Maestros / Ayahuasca Ikaros Out of the heart of the Amazon, we bring you the sounds of three generations of medicine men: paleros, ayahuasqueros, vegetalistas, curanderos. Don Solon Tello, Don Guillermo Ojanama and Jose Campos (aka Don Evangelino Murayay) are *mestizo curanderos and they represent a lineage of traditional healing that spans hundreds of years. Each has his own style of curing and follows the same tradition, the healing tradition, the selfless job of a curandero. They are all related as they have known each other in this and many other lifetimes, they have worked together, learned together, sang together and healed together. They have all drunk together from the same cup, the plant teacher cup, the mariri cup, the vine of the soul cup. *mes·ti·zo (mĕs-tē’zō)Any person of mixed blood. In Spanish America the term denotes a person of combined Indian and European extraction. Ikaro de la Ayahuasca 6:50 / 6:50Right-click and save as to download.(free download – right-click to save) Ikaro de la Proteccion 0:34 / 0:34Right-click and save as to download. Ikaro del Floripondio 0:30 / 0:34Right-click and save as to download. Canto a los Pajaros 0:34 / 0:34Right-click and save as to download. Don Evangelino Murayay has honoured us with a live recording of his beautiful, powerful and healing Ikaros. The music was captured live during a traditional Ayahuasca ceremony. This limited edition CD is packaged with all recycled paper, and includes a fantastic booklet complete with English translations. Born in Cajamarca in the northern Peruvian Andes to a peasant family, the then young Evangelino inherited the vocation to become a curandero (healer) from his grandfather. But as a growing child between family and farm, his interest had not yet been awakened towards the teachings and practices of his healer grandfather and his plants. In his adolescence, he left the Andean highlands to enter into the jungle, the Peruvian Amazon, in search of work and new frontiers. He became passionate about archaeology and participated in expeditions searching for clues to the puzzles of Peru’s many ancient cultures. While in the jungle he met a woman healer, and this curandera tried to make him understand that underneath his passion there was a hidden power. After some time, she initiated him in the way of the San Pedro, opening the doorway to a path of intense exploration of inner worlds and spaces. It was in this road that he met a physician who worked with the Ayahuasca plant and the Dieta. He received this new initiation, which led him to master healers Don Wilfredo Tuamana, Don Aquilino Chujandama, Don Solon Tello and Don Guillermo Ojanama. He spent many years of apprenticeship with these great masters, receiving their wisdom and experience, until he found his own path, his own teacher. For more than twenty years he has traveled this path of effort, search and toil, helping and instructing people from all walks of life in the art of self knowledge through the Dieta and responsible use of the Plants of Wisdom. Don Evangelino’s work has taken him beyond the frontiers of his native Peru, awakening and guiding numerous spiritual beings to consciously locate themselves in the currents of existence here on earth. website by conscious images® LLC WordPress Sandbox Autofocus -->