Friday, January 6, 2012

Dream, Float, Burn - Lafferty, Painting, & Punk Rock

My friend, Stephen Cefalo, made a wee video announcement of his upcoming exhibition of paintings,  'Dream, Float, Burn', and used a track from my 'post-punk' band Voice of the Mysterons.  Why this is of interest to the Lafferty blog is that the refrain being sung here is the title of one of Lafferty's short stories:  'And Walk Now Gently Through the Fire' (1972).  I think the imagery and sound go well together and perhaps even complement Lafferty's writing.  And it's a small and very obscure instance of Lafferty being referenced in popular culture.

Voice of the Mysterons - They Have Pulled Down Deep Heaven On Their Heads


Kevin said...

1. I need better speakers for my computer.

2. That poor guy on your album cover needs to see a dermo-opthamologist (or is that an optha-dermatologist).

3. Way Cool!

Daniel Otto Jack Petersen said...

Thanks, Kevin. Ha, ha! A dermo-opthamologist or optha-dermatologist - brilliant. The kind of doctor a cherub of the Ezekiel chapter 10 variety has to go see, I guess.

Kevin Cheek said...

Perhaps faint echoes heard within "This Boding Itch" with the new eyes evolving on the top of the head?

You know, lying down to sleep must be a real pain in the eye for those cherubs.

Daniel Otto Jack Petersen said...

Ah, I still haven't read that story, Kevin. But the painting somehow strikes me as Lafferty-esque to some degree regardless.

As to cherubim sleeping on a bed, I have the outline of a short story I need to finish where a man is stung by a cloud of insects leaving large welts all over his body and wakes up the next day with all the welts healed into eyes. I imagined the eyes against the bed and blankets merely being shut -eyelids closed (as when we for a moment might lie face down). When he goes out dressed in clothes, the covered eyes all over his body feel like when we are blindfolded. Weird and fun to think about the felt physiognomy of mythical realism.

'It was all strong talk with the horns and hooves still on it.'
(R. A. Lafferty, The Devil is Dead)