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Hippie Digest: Storm Thorgerson, RIP – Berkeley Hippies Attack… – Laos Hippies during Vietnam – ‘Searching for Sugar Man’ – Ours
Legendary album art designer Storm Thorgerson, RIP
Storm Thorgerson, whose album cover artwork includes Pink Floyd’s The Dark Side of the Moon, has died aged 69, the band’s management has confirmed.
A childhood friend of the founding members of the band, he became their designer-in-chief, fashioning a string of eye-catching creations.
Most-famously he designed the prism spreading a spectrum of colour across The Dark Side Of The Moon.
His credits also include albums by Led Zeppelin, Peter Gabriel and Muse.
His family released a statement saying he died peacefully on Thursday surrounded by family and friends.
“He had been ill for some time with cancer though he had made a remarkable recovery from his stroke in 2003,” it said.
“He is survived by his mother Vanji, his son Bill, his wife Barbie Antonis and her two children Adam and Georgia.” More…
Video: Homeless Berkeley Hippies Attack Stanley Roberts
A pair of dreadlock-sporting vagrants in Berkeley attacked noted KRON 4 reporter (and SFist favorite) Stanley Roberts this week while he was doing a segment outside Amoeba Music on Telegraph Avenue.
The journalist, best know for his “People Behaving Badly” news segments, was preparing a report on problematic panhandlers. He soon found himself on the receiving end of some bad behavior by said mendicants. More…
Hippie Culture in Laos during the Vietnam War
I find it interesting in a city like Vientiane in a country like Laos that was at war, well, at TWO wars, a civil war and the ‘Secret’ international one, that hippies should be wandering the streets mixing with the various belligerents and war-related groups who were also roaming the sidewalks of downtown Vientiane in the late 1960s and early 1970s.
At this time, CIA, US Army personnel and Air America staff on official business in Vientiane would be rubbing shoulders with North Vietnamese Army officers, Viet Cong and the Communist Pathet Laos forces, as well as various bands of Russian and Chinese meddlers in the city. Chuck in the Hmong fighters of Vang Pao, the plucky Thais and the Royal Laos Government forces and you could have fought both wars on the streets of Vientiane and just seen who was left standing.
The ‘Secret” war in Laos was secret all round, not just on the American side, but in Vientiane everyone who shouldn’t have been there and who denied being there to the world’s press was constantly bumping into each other in hotels, bars and restaurants. More…
Discovering hippies and teen rebellion when ‘Searching for Sugar Man’
Rodriguez’s magical transformation into a hero around the world has proved old South African hippies right — for once.
‘You know then,” said Stephen Segerman.
It was last Sunday morning and I’d spent the weekend googling recent developments in the story of Rodriguez, the construction worker who woke up one morning to discover he was actually a pop star in a parallel universe called Mzanzi. I checked his appearances on big-time American TV talk shows, scanned emotional fan mail on his website and watched several clips of foreign audiences erupting in standing ovations after screenings of Searching for Sugar Man, Malik Bendjelloul’s magical documentary about Rodriguez’s life, death and miraculous resurrection.
Somewhere along the line, it struck me that Rodriguez’s global triumph is actually a huge compliment to people like me — white South Africans born in the baby boom, raised on the apartheid moonbase and converted in the Sixties to the cause of long hair and teen rebellion. The rest of you would not get it, so I ran my idea past Segerman, who laughed and said: “You know then,” thereby identifying himself as an ex-hippie of exactly my own persuasion. More…
THE AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF A DAYDREAMER
your car breaks down
in the middle
of the night
on the precipice of a pot hole…don’t back off
step right through…and drop on in
to the autobiography of a daydreamer
chugging the nostalgia knocking at his noggin
no preaching meandering maverick practicing when not pretending
to steer clear of messing in them blood and guts mayhem…where only the devil wins
over me so inept that if my brains were dynamite…I couldn’t even blow my nose
pious in the pathos…the fall down…come back
of the lord sparing me
that dying for killing
I took a jaded shovel
to dig at sacred rubble
applying your goodness
all to cover their rising
for an upright boulder
make shift monument
to my little girl happy
socked feet dangling
in buckle up shoes…
for the distant islands
her stepping stones…dotting that blue ferry strait
taking her ribbon bow childhood to an ending
a top those mountains dunked in coffee cup clouds
from a balcony high….I view the once steady now sudden decline
the morning after the storm toasted and roasted our coast
leaving nothing but a flat carpet thicket sticker shag of shrubs
but wait the woman spotted a single towering aloe and to it
she took a glorious bolo to delightfully and viciously hack at that stalk
until shed a sap of tears as we placed it in the trunk
driving the prize 2000 miles through punishing heat
and yet it thrives…blossoming to this day healing hearts
wounded for lack of empathy from pigs falling from ladder gardens
buying in…selling out…trading up…dumbing down
through a circle of verse life affirming a vigil virtuous and vital
just as your crisis crashed and crushed the crap out of me
since you took the time to ask
here’s a rhyme I wrote at last
playing ying yang ping pong
bouncing balls back and forth
between paddles up and down
volleying from glad to mad to sad
in a stop action slow motion explosion
with lips wide and willing…for tongues to go throat exploring…kilter cocked in killer kisses
dizzily we dance…daring not to touch…what we really want to do.
by L Douglas St Ours