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A radio poem with three-head harmony!
This hellhound is tired of being beaten, sedated, and dragged around. He wants someone to play with him. Are you the kind of girl he's looking for?
related to this broadcastMy collage 'The kind of girl" is in Grrr: Issue 7 of the the on-line arts & culture e-zine Make8elieve.
what on earth was i thinking?Cerberus, or Kerberus, is the three headed hound who guards the gates of Hades. Whenever Greek heroes visit the underworld they have to have some trick or charm to subdue the fierce beast, whose purpose is to keep living souls out and dead souls in. Hercules' twelfth labor? He is challenged to bring the great beast out of Hell to the king. It is not pretty: Cerberus is clubbed into submission, chained, and dragged up into the light:
"...black night rose over him [Cerberus] and he turned his gaze to ground, closed tight his eyes and shut out the hated light; backward he turned his face and with all his necks sought the earth; then in the shadow of Hercules he hid his head."--Seneca
I hate that story. Maybe because I love black dogs. I avenge Kerberus from the testosterone-laden bully mythology by imagining a gentle friend. A liminal friend who is not afraid of the dark.
Also: Robert Johnson's "Hellhound on my Trail".
www.luminouswork.org/podcast
By laylageA radio poem with three-head harmony!
This hellhound is tired of being beaten, sedated, and dragged around. He wants someone to play with him. Are you the kind of girl he's looking for?
related to this broadcastMy collage 'The kind of girl" is in Grrr: Issue 7 of the the on-line arts & culture e-zine Make8elieve.
what on earth was i thinking?Cerberus, or Kerberus, is the three headed hound who guards the gates of Hades. Whenever Greek heroes visit the underworld they have to have some trick or charm to subdue the fierce beast, whose purpose is to keep living souls out and dead souls in. Hercules' twelfth labor? He is challenged to bring the great beast out of Hell to the king. It is not pretty: Cerberus is clubbed into submission, chained, and dragged up into the light:
"...black night rose over him [Cerberus] and he turned his gaze to ground, closed tight his eyes and shut out the hated light; backward he turned his face and with all his necks sought the earth; then in the shadow of Hercules he hid his head."--Seneca
I hate that story. Maybe because I love black dogs. I avenge Kerberus from the testosterone-laden bully mythology by imagining a gentle friend. A liminal friend who is not afraid of the dark.
Also: Robert Johnson's "Hellhound on my Trail".
www.luminouswork.org/podcast