WE DON’T NEED NO THOUGHT CONTROL (repost)

More than a few have expressed surprise when, in the course of casual conversation, they learn that I “dropped out of school” after sitting my A-Levels examinations as a private candidate at age 18. The A-Levels then were also known as HSC (Higher School Certificate) and were a necessary stepping stone to tertiary education.

“So you never went to university?” they ask incredulously. “I assumed you had a Masters!” To which my half-facetious response would be: “What? Not even a double PhD? Actually, I did spend some time at Universiti Malaya... but only to make out with my girlfriend who was staying on campus."

Among the many outstanding humans who have inspired me one way or another throughout my life, not one has impressed me because of their academic qualifications.

I regarded Bob Dylan as a Dionysian poet, Jewish prophet, and troubadour long before he was awarded an honorary doctorate by Harvard (and later a Nobel Prize) in Literature. Dylan’s urbane sagacity has stood me in good stead over the decades, and two things he said have been indelibly imprinted in my soul: (1) “To live outside the law you have to be honest” and (2) “The best thing you can do for anyone is to inspire them.”

Frank Zappa taught himself music theory as a teenager by religiously reading text books on music notation, composition and arrangement in public libraries. Long after his untimely demise by prostate cancer in December 1993, reputable orchestras and ensembles are performing his symphonic works to universal acclaim.

I regard Frank as the ultimate autodidact. He was also a brilliant electronics and audio engineer, sociopolitical commentator, and a self-taught authority on constitutional and copyright law who heroically upheld the First Amendment by presenting a strong case at Senate hearings for not censoring artistic output.

As an exchange student in New Jersey in the late 1960s, the only rock concert I attended was when Zappa & The Mothers of Invention played at the Fillmore East in New York City. I had a brief conversation with Frank afterwards and he gave me a chocolate teardrop which I ate on the journey home. I became the only Malaysian member of Zappa’s fan club, United Mutations, and often dreamt about him, which prompted me to write several letters to him. Years later, in 1977, Zappa actually responded. It was a bit like hearing back from Santa Claus.

John Lennon, another early mentor, had two collections of his wacky poems and Thurberesque doodles (In His Own Write and A Spaniard in the Works) published because of his celebrity status as a founding Beatle. His quirky sketches have also been exhibited in posh galleries and oohed and ahed over by the glitterati.

I owe Mr Lennon a serious debt of gratitude for his profound artistic impact and influence on my teenage consciousness. Looking back, I was a full-fledged Marxist (à la Groucho) and Lennonist (à la John) for the greater part of my adult life.

A fourth mentor appeared in my early adulthood in the form of R. Buckminster Fuller, popularizer of concepts like “synergy” and “holistic” - and who has been aptly described as “a genial genius.” Fuller was another university drop-out, whose claim to academic fame was getting expelled twice from Harvard. He regarded himself as a comprehensivist (as opposed to specialist) and that was precisely what I found myself aspiring to become.

Apart from his most famous invention, the geodesic dome, Bucky had a carbon molecule posthumously named after him. Indeed, the Buckminsterfullerene or C-60 has since become an increasingly popular anti-aging agent, owing to its remarkable detoxifying properties.

The most valuable takeaways I was gifted with from my close encounters with R. Buckminster Fuller were (1) The concept of applying minimum effort for maximum gain through leveraging (which, when you think about it, is what kung fu is all about) and (2) What Bucky said to me over dinner at the Equatorial Hotel in 1976 on one of his many visits to Kuala Lumpur:

“Just do what you feel you must do. Do it the best you can and trust that you’ll be looked after. Believe me, it’s true. I’m an old man, and I’m not in the habit of giving irresponsible advice.”

I quit my job in an ad agency a year after that and have remained gainfully unemployed since.

Bucky with a tensegrity sphere

When the results of the A-Levels were released I felt chagrined to have been awarded a pathetic C+ for Modern History, while getting straight A’s for all my other subjects. True, I was cutting it very close by opting for the minimum number of subjects (General Paper, English, Art, and Modern History) and I strongly felt I deserved an A for my Modern History paper.

The exam question, if I recall correctly, was what factors have had the greatest impact on world affairs since 1945. I remember feeling exceptionally inspired, and the words flowed smoothly from my pen as I postulated that, in the post-war years, the fate of nations fell into the hidden hands of covert agencies like the OSS (which subsequently became the CIA), MI6, Mossad, KGB, DARPA, and so on.

My essay concluded with the thesis that these covert agencies had transmogrified into a Frankenstein’s Monster – beyond the control and oversight of elected governments.

In effect their hubristic activities were clandestine, unreported, and unknowable to the public at large. My conclusion was that, unless these covert agencies somehow got their wings clipped by an authority greater than the merely governmental – unless they were effectively declawed and defanged, if not entirely dismantled, the destiny of the world, our collective future, was in grave danger of getting hijacked by criminal elements.

(Back in 1968 I hadn’t begun to research the Occult and knew nothing about weird shit like adrenochrome addiction and Babylonian blood sacrifice cults.)

"Critic of Chaos" by Ross Williams

I finished the essay with at least five minutes to spare, so I could re-read what I had written, and I felt satisfied that I had answered the question to the best of my ability. Now, whoever marked my paper may have felt a tinge of annoyance at my 18-year-old self-confidence and precocity but, even so, I surely deserved at least a B+ for my effort, not a paltry C+… because that would have awarded me a Higher School Certificate, enabling me to proceed with my tertiary education, if I so chose.

The only option I was left with was to re-enrol in school as a Lower Six student and resit the A-Levels in two years. No way, José! I decided it was the Cambridge Examinations Syndicate that had failed, not me. From that moment on, I turned my back on Academia and what I perceived, in later years, as a very cunningly crafted miseducation system, designed to format impressionable young minds in a manner conducive to their being absorbed into the Job Market.

Well, I had heard of a character named Job from dipping my nose into the Old Testament and I wasn’t about to fall into the same trap of being jerked around by some two-bit God-impersonator. After all, it wasn’t Employment I craved, it was a Sense of Meaning and Purpose. I deeply desired to know why I had taken on human embodiment on this planet. What was my mission this time around? Was it all completely pointless?

In any case, these ontological questions were set aside for a while, when approximately two weeks after getting the results of my A-Levels, I received a phone call from my girlfriend informing me she was a month late with her period.

In retrospect, becoming a father at age 19 was perhaps the best fucking education I could have bargained for.

Antares

7 May 2020

[Originally posted 7 May 2020, reposted 24 January 2023 & 6 April 2023]

This song is for you, Nannan... wherever you are! (reprise)

HAPPY 84th SOLAR ORBIT, BOB!

Thanks for all the inspiration, bro.

"Busynessmen, they drink my wine; plowmen dig my earth..."

ALL ALONG THE WATCHTOWER (by Bob Dylan, 1967)

There must be some way out of here, said the joker to the thief
There's too much confusion, I can't get no relief
Businessmen, they drink my wine, plowmen dig my earth
None of them along the line know what any of it is worth

No reason to get excited, the thief he kindly spoke
There are many here among us who feel that life is but a joke
But you and I, we've been through that, and this is not our fate
So let us not talk falsely now, the hour is getting late

All along the watchtower, princes kept the view
While all the women came and went, their footservants too

Outside in the distance a wildcat did growl
Two riders were approaching, the wind began to howl

Photographer Ken Regan offers a private glimpse of public figures in his new book...

A smoking Bob Dylan during his Rolling Thunder Revue, 1975.

Jim Morrison and The Doors at the Westbury Music Fair, January 1970.

People magazine cover shoot with Madonna, February 1985.

Bruce Springsteen on location for the “Streets of Philadelphia” video, December 1993.

John Lennon, Paul McCartney, and Ringo Starr in Central Park, February 1964.

Rolling Thunder Revue tour, fall 1975 - Bob Dylan and Allen Ginsberg
at the grave of writer Jack Kerouac.

Janis Joplin at the Fillmore East, March 1968.

Keith Richards with his first daughter, Theodora Dupree Richards, in 1985.

Stones Tour Party, 1972 - Mick Jagger at Michael Butler’s house.

Jimi Hendrix at the Fillmore East, March 1968.

Keith Richards cooking breakfast in Montauk, 1975.

Text & Captions by Jakob Schiller/WIRED magazine

Ken Regan tells the story like this. It’s 1974, he’s on assignment for Time magazine and is photographing Bob Dylan in Chicago. It’s the first time he’s photographed Dylan (who is notoriously private) and doesn’t want to screw it up.

While standing in one of the stage wings he turns his camera on the audience.

“In the second row was this woman, she’s probably in her sixties, gray hair, surrounded by all these teenagers,” says Regan. “And she was standing up and she was clapping and she was cheering and it was such a good photograph because of the contrast between her and all the kids.”

The same woman is in the audience the next night so Regan mentions it to his friend Bill Graham, the famous music promoter, who originally got him in the door with Dylan. Graham immediately tells Regan he can never use the photos. Turns out the older woman is Dylan’s mom, and Graham knows Dylan doesn’t want those photos published.

Time magazine runs three pages of photos but Regan never lets on about Dylan’s mom.

Fast forward to 1975. It’s 2 a.m. and Regan gets a call from Bob Dylan and his promoters. They’re excitedly putting together a plan for Dylan’s upcoming Rolling Thunder tour. Dylan had found out about the photos of his mom and knows he can trust Regan. He wants Regan on the tour and tells him he’ll have full and unprecedented access.

Regan ends up following the entire tour and comes back with 13,750 frames, including several of the most intimate and personal photos ever made of Dylan.

“I’m saying to myself this is like a dream, having this access to Bob Dylan which no one has really had before,” Regan says. “He kind of came out of his reclusive shell on the whole tour.”

The story is just one of many Regan can recount after more than five decades of photographing the world’s most famous rock musicians. He’s got photos of, and anecdotes about, everyone from the Rolling Stones to Madonna and for the first time has published them all in one place — his aptly titled music anthology, All Access.

The book, which is nearly 300 pages long, is an exhaustive look at one of the world’s most important recent cultural movements and provides proof of what happens when you spend years developing relationships with people who are notorious for hiding their personal lives.

[Read the rest here.]

Ken Regan was born and grew up in the Bronx. He studied journalism at Columbia and attended New York University's Film School. His early photography career began in the sports arena where he covered the World Series, Super Bowls, the Olympics, heavyweight championship fights, Hockey, Basketball, Tennis, Auto Racing and other professional sports for Time, Sports Illustrated, Life, and Newsweek.

In the 70s, Ken founded Camera 5, his own photo agency which represented 15 photographers who covered riots and demonstrations in the United States and wars in Vietnam and later in the Persian Gulf and Bosnia. Photo essays about gold mining in Brazil, the Columbo family's involvement in the Mafia, poverty in Harlem, Vietnam Veterans, and a scientist on the Amazon are among his favorite assignments. He has also toured with some of the most renowned musicians in Rock'n'Roll history. In 1975, he did back to back tours with Bob Dylan and the Rolling Stones. He covered the Band's Last Waltz, and George Harrison's benefit for Bangladesh amongst many other Rock festivals and events. He worked closely with renowned concert promoter Bill Graham and was the main photographer for his biggest events such as Amnesty International, Live Aid and others.

By the late Eighties, Ken had over 200 magazine covers to his credit, as well as numerous awards from the Missouri School of Journalism and World Press Photo to the New York Newspaper Guild.

Consumed with a passion for images, Ken continues his tireless pursuit of hard news, sports, and human interest stories for Vanity Fair, Rolling Stone, Newsweek, Paris Match, Time, Esquire, Entertainment Weekly, People, U.S. News and World Report, Good Housekeeping, and the Ladies Home Journal.

[Source: SNAP Galleries]