It's our Summer Solstice Super Bonanza! Amy and Anton are boiling alive for your aural pleasure. Here, at the fullness of the year, we share some melted brain nonsense. Anton, rather boringly, dodges the call towards the light at the end of the tunnel. We consider the possibility of practicing magic under the sun, the hexing of Billy Chainsaw, Shaky Kane's meta predictions of Anton's future, whether it's possible to catch lightning in a bottle and how to expect the unexpected? A High Priestess will not leave us alone. A flying saucer lands in Brighton which is probably to do with the portal opened in the Pavilion Gardens. Owls are aliens. Kenneth Williams ponders the relevance of DivinAdmin. We see by unseeing and David Lynch takes a shortcut via cliche, whilst we're leaning into deja vu. Facts have little influence on the truth. A load of old Blarney? But... That's Impossible!
Not japing fun and games. The head of a tabby cat floats in the sky. We hear a voice but the lips aren't moving. The sounds of wood pigeons and sitars, we're going underground. This week Amy and Anton experience Jonathan Miller's 1966 TV adaptation of Alice inWonderland. I tell what we can do for ya... Nuffin'!
Three coffees a piece, each black as midnight on a moonless night, lead Amy and Anton to bring you a magicians force where Amy tries to guess what Anton guesses that she's guessed. We kind of, like, read about, like, reading? And the trails gone cold. Is Derren Brown the midwife for all form? We consider the merit of Tarot Constellations by Mary K. Greer as well as the life of the legendary illustrator of the most iconic tarot deck of all time, Pamela Coleman Smith. Our log's got something to tell you, and it's that the orange face of the Western world is a gaslight. The mists part, something's coming through, and the message is: there's no such thing as a psychic.
My Baby Must Be A Magician - The Marvelettes
Asshole Blues - Iggy Pop
Weak - Skunk Anansie
The Libertine (from Sundark and Riverlight) - Patrick Wolf
16 Again - Buzzcocks
We Are the Dead - David Bowie
But... That's Impossible! Episode 4. Dreamland's Big Circus.
This week, Amy and Anton trace the thread of Rock and Roll spirit presented in Guy Peellaert and Nik Cohn's art book: ROCK DREAMS.
Under the boardwalk, crushes and daydreams become mythological. The outlines of rock stars become constellations by which to navigate. We consider the manifestation of images outside of intention. We set an angel free from a block of marble. We hearken unto the school girls in black leather, harbingers of trauma. We tear our hearts out and lay down in the road. Immersed in a glamorous uniform of imagery, skinny white sailor with chances so slender and dirty as a dustbin lid, we wonder if you knew we danced ourselves out of the womb?
Ex Nihilo. Something from nothing. Grant Morrison. The Invisibles. Chaos. Charging a sigil with absolute terror. Getting abducted in Kathmandu. The entirety of time being experienced at once. The illusion of sequence. Being peeled off of three dimensions. Fiction suits for the reality traveller. Living in an alternate future. It came to me in a dream. You are sleeping. You do not want to believe.
Examining the magickal wherever it can be found. Lead by synchronicities and encouraging the random and the strange.
This week Amy and Anton have decided to live a mad and extravagant life!
With talk on Death. Harry Crosby. The Order of the Good Death and Caitlin Doughty. Decadence. Making up a religion. Dressing up. Spirituality in drag. Ritual performance. The smell of a joke. Flaming human skulls. Bad poetry. Brassieres. Dead ringers. And teddy bears. But... That's Impossible!
Brought to you by Amy and Anton. We discuss science and magick and the apocalypse, with a neat biography of rocket scientist and occultist Jack Parsons and a (suitably) chaotic meander on and away from the chaos magician Peter J. Carroll. We consider a meet and greet with Aleister Crowley at the North Pole, UFO's flown by fairies, rocketry, the ascension of dolls, the manifesto of the anti-christ, occult objects which may or may not be buried in moondust, a bar-mitzvah to call the worm, and the octopodes of Vatican City. But... That's Impossible!