music
Psyclone Rangers tout sound as 'cowboys on acid'
At one of the band's more memorable gigs, Marlin Fitzwater was in the audience.
By JL Watson Kansan staff writer
Psychline Rangers brings its high-powered act to the Hideaway, 108 N. Rock St. tonight. The band previously toured with the Reverend Horton Heat.
Mpozi Tolbert/Special to the KANSAN
A couple of years ago no one outside of Allentown, Penn., had heard of the Psyclone Rangers. That was before the blast that blew them right out of that mining town and into clubs nationwide opening for the Reverend Horton Heat.
"We started out doing mid-60s garage sounds like the Seeds and 13th Floor Elevator, but we came of age in the '80s so we listened to a lot of the Pixies and Sonic Youth, and even the Velvet Underground," he said. "However, I don't think we sound like any of those bands. That's the difference between being influenced by them and ripping their music off."
Lead singer Jonathan Valania describes the Rangers sound as cowboys on acid.
Tonight they bring their high-powered show, solo, to the Hideaway, 106 N. Park St.
"We'll take an East Coast swing in December," Valania said. "After that we start another major tour. Basically it's our tour, tour, tour."
The Psyclone Rangers are at the end of a tour but hope to make another swing through the Midwest when they start another tour in January.
Of their first major tour Valanía said, "We're almost burned out, but really it's been just one big, constant rolling party. The guys from Reverend Horton Heat are real sweethearts, and they've really taken us under their wing."
Valania said one of the more memorable gigs of the tour happened in Baton Rouge, La., where former White House spokesman Marlin Fitzwater showed up.
"I went up to him after we played, and said, 'Hey you're Marlin Fitzwater! What'd you think of the show?' " he said.
Valania said Fitzwater mumbled something about coming out to see the Reverend. He left immediately afterwards.
"I think he thought we were the Reverend." Valania said.
and that of full-time musicians.
"At this point we're not making any money," Valania said. "It's expensive to go on the road."
Valania and bandmates, Scot Danzer, P.R. Behler and Jamie Knerr, are willing to take the gamble because they have the backing of their label,
"We've been getting a lot of attention," Valania said. "The best thing is people who come out to have fun. It's great to see people like Deadheads dance around. They get off on live music."
World Domination.
Witches
"We're not Halloween monsters," said one KU student follower of Wicca, a com mon branch of witchcraft. "We're your next door neighbors."
By Sara Bennett
Kansan staff writer
Round about the cauldron go,
In the poisoned entwilth thren
Toad, that under cold stone,
Days and nights has thirty-one.
Swuttered venom, sleeping got.
Boull thou first i' the charmed pot.
Double, double toil and trouble,
Fire burn and cauldron bubble.
"Macbeth," Act IV, scene i, lines 5-10
Shakespeare's "Macbeth" creates an enduring image of witches as evil sorcerers. But most real-life witches do not cackle, stir poisonous potions or cater to the dark forces of evil.
"Culturally, when you say 'witch,' you see the cardboard cutout in the window with the green face and broomstick," said Gareth-Michael Skarka, Lawrence senior. Skarka is a follower of Wicca, a common branch of witchcraft.
Although witches are not the pawns of Satan so often depicted in movies and Judeo-Christian teachings, they have been persecuted throughout history.
Yes, witcraft is a religion. Wicca is even recognized by the armed forces. But witches do not enjoy the same religious freedom others do.
Like most next door neighbors, witches are everyday people who practice a religion.
"We're not Halloween monsters," he said. "We're your next door neighbors."
Today, people often confuse the symbols of witchcraft with those of Satanism. For instance, the pentacle, or five-pointed star within a circle, represents nature's five elements to witches. Until recently, it also represented the five wounds of Christ to the Christian church. In 1969, Anton Levay, the father of Satanism, inverted the pentacle. Since then, pentacles have mistakenly been associated with Satanism.
When Christianity spread from Rome throughout western Europe, pagans who would not convert were persecuted as witches.
Shakespeare said popular culture has also.
with Satanism.
contributed to misunderstanding.
"There are some 'Beavis and Butt-head' high school kids out there who listen to Megadeath, wear a pentacle and say they're a warlock," he said. "That doesn't help."
Because of negative stereotypes, many witches have not told their families or employers about their religion.
"There are some witches who are not comfortable being out of the broom closet," said Bruce Blanc, a Lawrence businessman and and member of the Web of Oz, a local pagan organization.
"People tend to fear what they do not understand," said Bronwyn, Overland Park sophomore. Bronwyn is her craft name, taken upon initiation into the faith in order to protect the witch's identity.
"We go by craft names to protect us from persecution when we deal with the real world," she said. "We want a job just like everyone else."
Samhain, Oct. 31, is the pagan new year.
On this day, witches remember the dead
and let go of things that have been troubling
them.
Pagan holidays
Candienera, Feb. 1, is a time when witches light a candle in remembrance of the
witcher.
Witches observe eight major holidays from the pagan week of the year:
Yule, Dec. 21, is a time when witches give thanks for a successful passage through
- Spring Equinox, March 21, is a time to give thanks for spring and renewal of life symbolized by the coming of the goddess. Bastet, May 1, is the pagan fertility festi-
Summer Solace, or Midsummer,
June Wishlists, wishes thanks for
them.
Lammas, Aug. 1, is a time to give thanks for the coming harvest.
Albrecht Dürer's "The Four Witches" portrays women stripping before sabbath. As in the 1497 painting, many modern witches practice naked outside.
Autumn Equinox, Sept. 21, is the pagan harvest festival.
note: Kansan staff research
But some witches insist on having their identities known, hoping it will help demystify witchcraft.
"Persecution is done out of fear," said Laura
Hanson, Lawrence senior. "It's gotten to the point where people are afraid of talking. The less we talk about it, the less people know, and then they're afraid."
KANSAN
Because witches usually practice alone and do not recruit new members, they are often seen as a smaller group than they really are, Skarka said.
"Because the community is so isolated, there are no large groups of people who can stand up when someone releases a movie like 'Witchboard' and protest," he said. "So it makes us look like a lunatic fringe group."
Skarka said he wants his openness to set an example for his two young daughters.
"It's very important for me to show my children that I'm not ashamed of what I am," he said.
"I look at it as the interconnectedness of everything," said Hanson. "It helps me to make sure that I reflect on what I do, so I don't act without thinking. Also, I like the equality and that there's a balance because there's both a god and goddess."
Despite the stigma attached to the religion of witchcraft, many people find it a fulfilling way of life.
Skarka said, "it's almost like little chimes going off in your head when you know something's right. It's as much a part of my life as anyone's religion is."
Just as there are many denominations of Christianity, there are many types of witches. Druids, Celts, Norse and Wiccans are only a few of the branches of witchcraft.
Witchcraft is paganism, a broad term that includes individualized, earth-based, pre-Christian religions. Witches worship the earth and its cycles as well as a number of gods and goddesses.
Witches observe the lunar cycles and the eight major sabbaths of the pagan year. These holidays hark back to the time when peasants prayed for fertility and successful harvests and celebrated
See WITCHES. Page 6.
OCTOBER 26,1993
PAGE 5
People and places at the University of Kansas.
When purchasing an assassination ask for a receipt
In July, JoAnn Suggs was convicted in Raleigh, N.C., of hiring Bill Bateman to kill her estranged husband, J.R. The plot failed because of Bateman's lack of temperament for the job. Testifying in the case, Bateman said he pulled a gun on Suggs one night at Suggs' condo, but put it away and eventually even helped Suggs unload the groceries from his car. Suggs offered Bateman a beer, and the two talked into the night. After being implored by JoAnn by telephone to get on with the job, Bateman tied Suggs up with sterewire, but then resumed talking. Bateman then put his hands around Suggs' neck but, when Suggs objected, Bateman said he was only applying a pro wrestling "sleeper" hold. Then the two drove around and talked some more over beers. Bateman and JoAnn kept in telephone contact. She became increasingly exasperated that Suggs was still alive. Finally, JoAnn met the two men and implored Bateman to shoot her husband, who had been placed in the trunk of the car. Bateman closed his eyes and fired several shots at the trunk, only wounding Suggs in the hand.
The answer to rising crime: bowling
In August, Dorolou Swirsky, 83, told the San Francisco Chronicle she planned to give the city of Sunnyvale, Calif., $500,000 from her estate to finance youth sports activities, which she views as the key antidote to delinquency. She particularly wants the money to go toward interscholastic lawn bowling, which she said "embraces everything that holds a family together."
Definitely not Prince Albert in a can
The Baltimore Sun reported in June that New York City artist Todd Alden recently asked 400 art collectors worldwide to send him samples of their feces so he can offer them for sale in personalized tins. Said Alden, "Scatology is emerging as an increasingly significant part of artistic inquiry in the 1990s." The feces of Italian artist Piero Manzoni, canned in 1961, recently sold for $75,000.
The animals have a spokesperson
Cox News Service reported in August that Mexican professional wrestler Geraldo Palomero, who works in a mask, colorful tights and a cape
See WEIRD. Page 6.
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