Andy Warhol was the Consummate Consumer Whose Work Appeared to Critique a Cultural Craze; Work Which Also Served to Craft a Refined Model of the 20th Century Phenomenon It Seemed to Have Cleverly Questioned.
Fame is an American obsession and it is arguably as essential a component of Americana as are Apple Pie and the pyrotechnics shooting across the night sky on the Fourth of July. Following celebrity news is the less-physical alternative national pastime to the sport of Baseball.  Andy Warhol’s insight into the now highly evolved machine which churns out stardom today seem like the eerily astute annunciations of a latter day, pop culture Nostradamus.
Famous people have no problems, but if they have turbulence in their lives it is of an enviable variety because heck, the rocky road of a star is paved with gold. The rich and famous are perpetually happy, even when they are upset. These are ridiculous statements which reflect a narrow sentiment. Nonetheless, the sentiment is shared almost universally at one time or another by people internationally. It is an intensely American mode of thought which has drenched the global cultural climate. It is the worst byproduct of some of our most audacious and successful innovations in technology; and also the evolution of our values and ideals away from the spiritual and to the material.

The concept certainly existed before this country did, but it exploded with the advent of Hollywood after the creation of film as a visual medium. As is true in so many other instances, America has taken an old idea and brought it to new places; highs and lows. But I say that as a matter of digression. Film was and is a compelling visual medium. Hollywood made film stars into commodities and the resultant fan-fixation by the ordinary people created a niche market within journalism. A new sector of reporting was in demand and money was to be made by those people quick-minded and enterprising enough to provide it. Basically, there was a new need for more gossip columns, tabloids and celebrity “news” reporting.
Prior to focusing on motion picture stars reporters had written about the envied class of the super rich in “Society” pages. These were the folk to obsess over during the years before the advent of the superstar entertainer in America, an age which seemed to dawn during the bleak years of the Great Depression and to become formidable as the nation regained its economic vigor in the post-war years during the 1950’s.  Illustrious gossip columnist Louella Parsons, and those of her ilk wrote who wrote stories related to Hollywood royalty would more likely have been sent to Newport, Rhode Island on assignment to cover the exciting lives of the Astor and Rockefeller clans during the summers at the tail end of the 19th and first decade of the 20th Centuries.
During the 1950’s Andy Warhol was a largely unknown artist living in New York City, ready to have his nose fixed and preparing to unleash his own fame on the nation and world. An anonymous person on the brink of acclaim and notoriety. By 1970, he was an iconic figure and by the year of his 1986 death he was a living legend. His posthumously published diaries prove beyond any doubt that he was both a famed, elite member of the glitterati as well he as an avid fan– obsessed with the lives and personal details of his famous friends.

Before he became this strangely bifurcated celebrity/fan he was an undiscovered artist. One who was taking notice of certain trends in advertising in print and  television. Surely he understood the way in which this force could shape image and boost sales. Before his own fame would come he was fascinated with the theme of mass production and advertising and obsessed with the concept of fame and celebrity. Noting trends in how actors, debutantes and first ladies were portrayed was likely something he did enthusiastically. When not thinking about fame he was pondering the phenomenon of mass production. His comprehension of the profundity of the truth, that factories could turn out thousands and thousands of identical, disposable items was crucial to his role as a creator.

The  confluence of the notion that something good could be duplicated several hundred thousand times and the idea that human beings could be groomed for glamor in the marketplace was problematic and inexorable.  The result of this combination is  ethically  suspect. Numerous psychological disturbances have been cradled by the corporate world via advertisements which sell their productions. Adverts loaded with visual instruction to be thin, to be tanned, to be perfect.  We are lucky that it was the mind of  Warhol which focused on this topic and that his the perception of the hybrid born of glitzy fame and infinite duplication demystify  his mind led him to make bold statements about fame, the value of humanity and the ease with which the entire nation could buy into the notion that almost everything, and just about anybody is replaceable.

At the same time, television journalism was being pioneered. The news was delivered via this magical new technology to the home of the viewer in pictures. This was also a compelling medium and allowed for serious journalism assume a striking visual component. This had never existed. The newsreels played in cinemas were an approximation, but they did not have as strong of an impact on the viewer as did the televised broadcasts. Television news hit the viewer in the gut simply because it was something watched at home.

That National and International  news stories could be zapped invisibly through the air and then be seen as images moving and in real time, and with sound was unprecedented. Enormous breaking news stories were delivered to members of the population as they sat in their homes. Including stories as monumental as the assassinations of Martin Luther King and the two Kennedys and the 1969 moon landing. All were broken to the people while they sat in their living rooms in moving images, with trusted journalists narrating. Journalists had once toiled in anonymity as they wrote for the newspapers. There was no need for reporters to be attractive or to have the type of charisma which comes across best visually. A fine wit would find a way into words and the words were what mattered before the advent of television.

Reporters could be frumpy or downright ugly when nobody saw them.  But after television began covering news, the new medium presented a challenge. People working as television journalists became more attractive and more polished. Executives realized that actors and actresses could become famous while working  on Soap Operas and Situation Comedies. Television news could also make a celebrity of the right personality. Looks became important, as well.  While David Brinkley was very effective and reliable and admired, his looks did not present the prototype. News Anchors and Anchor Women were carefully selected; looks, insight, speech and the way the viewer related to an anchor were all major factors to be considered when hiring.

People seemed to respond naturally and organically to Peter Jennings and Jessica Savitch. Both were articulate and considered to be good-looking.  Each was blessed with camera-ready charisma. Never mind the reality, which was that Jennings had  managed only to obtain an education through the 8th grade and that Savitch was addicted to drugs, depending on cocaine to make her slim and smooth over her personal woes. Those details did not matter, nobody at home knew any of that. Peter Jennings was capable, smooth and dignified. Jessica Savitch was glamorous, educated and her manner of speaking was copied by many other women on television. Ironically, she spoke as crisply as she did because she had a speech impediment as a child which she diligently worked to overcome.Jennings and Savitch are serious journalists, that is arguable but not when they are comparede to their contemporary components
During the 1990’s the relevance  of serious reporters and prime time anchors began to erode as the news began to pander to the needs of the market. The market demanded more stories and reports about the famous. Talk shows became very successful and presented an easy way to obtain a small but often scandalous portion of fame. When you think about Andy Warhol’s quip that in the future everybody would be famous for 15 minutes, it’s difficult to not think about the Jerry Springer Show and the guests he would have on. A parade of slobs  involved in bizarre love triangles, ready to dash out across his stage and in front of America to divulge some filthy secret which anybody who was mentally stable would not announce in a c0ffee shop, let alone on national televison. What other reason did they have but to graner attention and a quick shot of fame? They got to be on T.V. after all.

Another route to televised fame was established when “Reality Shows” were popularized as the decade closed. The Real World, which began airing in 1992 became a template in various ways for these shows. A group of people who represented different demographics and who could be counted upon to yield a decent crop of culture clash and resultant verbal tiffs which people enjoy watching. It was easy to be on a show like that. Talent was no longer any requisite for fame because of these shows. With the arrival of the internet and with blog sites devoted to celebrity news, the concern with serious news, national and international, seemed bound for the confines of memory.

By the present time, in 2010, traditional journalism is nearly a relic of an era during which actual news was reported. Nowadays, television news magazines fail to cover pertinent stories in many instances. Instead their producers opt to secure “exclusive” interviews with whichever famous personality is currently saturating the minds of the masses. Usually, if you look closely enough, you can quickly realize that many of these “it girls” are not very interesting at all and that their personalities are just likeable enough for some clever P.R. agent to have managed to find some shred of charisma in a person who has an atypical set of life experiences. Maybe a lot of folks would have failed to notice anything there. But sometimes, maybe  because her father won a Grammy and she went to rehab and she cut a single–which no record company was interested in but it’s all over the internet–sometimes these people get real famous. The set of circumstances I just created would make for a lovely pitch for a reality show. Especially with the right Svengali is hovering overhead, pulling all the right strings.
Warhol seemed to love to pick people and make them famous and to manipulate that fame like a Svenhali– and he seems to have done so as a hobby. For example, he annually picked out a  “Girl of the Year” and doted on her, feting her with parties. He made every effort to see that she was photographed and filmed, revealed to as broad an audience as possible. His early choices were great beauties like Jane Holzer who was nicknamed “Baby Jane.” Latter inclusions reflected either his deep admiration for old money or his interest in chaotic personalities. Edie Sedgwick was the embodiment of each and was given the title the year following that in which the statuesque blonde, Baby Jane Holzer had been. Holzer later made disparaging comments that Warhol was encircled by freaks and dope. Sedgwick seemed to thrive in the same environment which Baby Jane had found so repellant.
In choosing and in using Edith Sedgwick, Warhol behaved in the following multiple roles, all at once: The talent agent, the producer, the admiration addled and overwhelmed gawker born poor who is impressed by money and pedigree. He eventually allowed her to be his muse and later made her his confidante. In time he assumed yet another role, and behaved much as today’s managers or public relations geniuses would. By creating somewhat interesting, yet staged events for which Sedgwick was to be the focal point.

The young heiress Sedgwick was admired for her slim build, big dark eyes and her athletic legs. But other than behaving like a walking mannequin and acting in mute roles in Andy’s films,  she did little. What she did when not starring in one of Andy’s experimental films was indulge a horrific narcotics addiction and to get belittled by other men who felt she was a viable actress with true star power. She should be in Los Angeles, making real movies! They thought and shewas told frequently. for allowing herself to star in his ridiculous films when she had a great look and a charisma all her own. But she was too unstable and drug addicted to do that. Andy Warhol eventually acted in the plural role of the American Public as it does when it has grown tired of the substance abuse-fueled and other shenanigans of one of its young Starlets— He dropped her. He dropped her thoroughly, the way the entire nation would drop Lindsay Lohan some forty years later.
What Warhol did with the folks he admired, be they his friends or eventual foes is not my concern, here. I am more intrigued by what he accomplished through his visual works of art, barring his use of film. The centrifugal topic of this paper is what he was able to say about the state of affairs concerning fame, the erosion of the value of individuality in the era of mass-production and the huge force of which the powers of advertising and marketing were capable.
The questions raised here can never be answered in a satisfactory way. Questions about Warhol’s role as cultural critic making an unbelievably potent statement about what the concept of mass-production meant to the individual are brought up routinely. What some fail to see is that while he absolutely acted as a critic of both mass-production and of fame, he also was an eager participant in both the game of winning fame and was an enthusiastic proponent of mass-production, too. His works were made in large numbers in a studio named, of all things, “The Factory.” There, he paid a pittance to a crowd of devotees who toiled at copying his original art and getting the replications finished. His studio was not only a “Factory” in the nominal sense. It was an actual factory. Sure, it masqueraded as a very hip place to see, be seen and in which to party, discuss any number of topics or to dance, but it still was more like a factory than the majority of us can ever really know.
What Andy Warhol’s most important works of art asked us was, has anything ever been authentic? What is so alluring about celebrity, and what is ultimately so ugly about celebrity? An artist who understood the Fame Machine and how it operated as many years ago as did Warhol would be surprised at the level of fakery and plasticity amongst the Stars of today. Or would he be? Perhaps the most likely answer is no. Perhaps Warhol had a deeper understanding of the direction in which the Fame Mill in which he took an interest was actually headed. Perhaps Warhol, himself was complicit in the greater development of the same Fame Mill. We know he understood celebrity and yet it is difficult to understand if he was only lampooning this national obsession in certain works. Quite possibly, he was not complicit. Instead his portraits of celebrities and his own enthusiasm for the concept of fame and respect for the power of marketing inadvertently added an influence which has streamlined the manufacture of today’s Superstars. This influence must have been bestowed inadvertently, for there was no way to predict the wild popularity and association with Pop Culture his name would carry. Pop Art, indeed. Today’s Pop Stars are as much the heirs to Warhol’s legacy when his love of fame is considered as they are as likely to have inspired his scorn were he alive today, his equally negative opinion of the same concept also examined.
Has anything ever been authentic? Smoke and mirrors and the blatant imitation of roles set by forgotten and archetypically endowed actors or society mavens years ago account for the inspiration of the creation of innumerable celebrities. Add to this the phenomenon of reality television, which has caused an entire generation of younger people to believe that one can become nationally famous for doing nothing—because it is true.
Andy Warhol was obsessed with the American pastime of stalking celebrities—not in blatant terms, but through the more innocent channels presented by the media, in magazines for example. Warhol himself desperately wanted to be counted amongst the famous and he created some of his best-known works of art by simply mirroring back at those who viewed his creations their own fascination with the concept of celebrity. Amongst his most readily recalled works are the series of portraits he created of famous people: Elvis Presley, Marilyn Monroe, Jacqueline Kennedy Onassis, amongst others.
But almost inarguably, most concede his best-known work of art was his simple recreation of a Campbell’s Soup can. Simple as it may, this is amongst the most iconic images from the 20th Century. Not merely from the Art World of that period but in very general terms, this image was and is still so renowned that many are exposed to it without making the chance at decoding or demystifying it. What subliminal meaning could lurk behind such an innocent image, anyhow? People unfamiliar with the true value and import inherent in the work are too many in number.
This was the work which made declarations about fame and the value placed upon individuals in an even more effective voice than he could ever have made in any of his portraits. Because while not an illustration of an overexposed human being, it re-affirmed the idea that more-and-more, American citizens were becoming increasingly affected by advertising. Anybody with a pulse could identify the object in that piece. It was a brand name item made in huge numbers in factories for mass sale.
Remembering that his celebrity portraits were created as a series beginning either after, or at about the same during which the soup can became his most famous subject tells us two things. First, that he was making a clear statement about the power of advertising and that its influence was so undeniable and pervasive that again, anybody viewing that work knew immediately what they were looking at, so he was also asserting the power of “brand.” Nobody could evade the power of brand when advertised, because the visual component of a particular brand is huge so long as the visual is somewhat compelling.
The can of soup may not have been visually stunning or beautiful, but it mass produced and advertised and hence it was made into an item which was then, and today remains ubiquitous. No matter how ubiquitous are the cans which contain the soup made by the people at Campbell’s or the ground coffee made Folgers’ may be, they are designed primarily for one utilitarian reason. That is, to hold a product. The consumer who buys such a product for use at home must necessarily purchase the package in which it comes. The tacit understanding of this consumer at point-of-sale is simple. Once he has used up the contents of the can or box and the package is emptied, it will be cast into the garbage with no accompanied sensation of loss.
Nobody thinks about buying the can when setting out to buy soup. It is not the province of some brigade of intellectuals to make the deduction that these canisters have no intrinsic value whatsoever to the consumer. They are utterly disposable; bits of waste meant to be cleared from the kitchen the moment they are void and no longer able to yield anything of use. That some items are universally considered useless when they no longer hold the goods they had when freshly acquired is not in and of itself a profound concept. Until that bare and boring fact is contrasted with another reality– that the same packages bound for the dumpster are so readily recognized by members from every sector of the population.
His portraits of Marilyn Monroe were not only finished as single-image portraits but also made as diptychs. Others show her image more than two times as in a diptych, but in multiple duplicates as if she had been mass-produced at a factory. In many ways she or a Star of her caliber could so easily be perceived. Knowing a few facts about the way Hollywood operated during the mid-twentieth century would make such a contention far less difficult to form. The studios ran every aspect of the lives of their biggest Stars. They molded and manufactured people. Taking a diamond in the rough, so to speak and refining it until it glimmered and glinted as a true star would. That she was sold by the studio which had refined her is not untrue, and a lot of time was spent by studios when cultivating people like her. The studios dressed and clothed, colored the hair and applied the makeup to their Stars, employing a great number of professionals for these purposes. Additionally, the studios worked with the press to assure that most scandals could never start. Homosexual male actors were routinely sent out on staged “dates” with females who may have been heterosexual or may not have been.
The Movie Stars of the 1950’s and early 1960’s were like Barbie or Ken dolls and seemed to have no problems because any messiness in the personal arena was cleaned-up by the studio. In the case of Marilyn, who had a problem not only with some unspecified mental illness but also with drugs, the studio doctors were called-in to keep her supply of pills plentiful. She ultimately suffered a breakdown which could not be covered-up by any studio. She required hospitalization and the press soused down on her with cameras as she emerged from a psychiatric ward. She was young when she passed away, aged only 36 years. When Marilyn Monroe died the myths about cover-ups surrounding her demise began to swirl and these are sometimes still recounted today.
Is that what people really want when they seek fame? To be famous seems to ensure that even in death society will haunt you, and not the other way around. You will become a sale item and your image, your belongings and any film in which you starred or note you may have written will increase in value when you die. How on earth is that understood as a glamorous concept and not seen as the maudlin, convoluted reality which it, in fact, truly is?
Warhol’s most insightful statements were about the coalescence of both fame and mass-production. It is rare that a can of soup comes under the scrutiny of an artist and neither is it commonplace that the same object would become subject matter for his work. Therefore we must question why this particular artist, with his well-documented preoccupation with fame as well as concepts of marketing.
I cannot imagine that his decision to name the studio in which his art was produced “The Factory.” That this was a wry, tongue-in-cheek or cute action is possible but I think that supposition actually diminishes his motivation to have so christened his working space. That he produced his many celebrity portraits in this environment, with its highly suggestive name warrants a closer examination. A second look at not only the name he gave to the place in which he created his work, but also a more comprehensive evaluation of those images of well-known persons which he conceived and made within these premises.
Warhol remains as inscrutable and enigmatic twenty-four years after his death than he ever was in life. His work hangs in respected museums and is sought after by wealthy collectors internationally. His art and its potent messages, which at once had seemed to contradict one another, now seem to have eerily commingled and today we have a distorted brand of celebrity about which Warhol either warned us to avoid, or which he championed and even played an active role in creating. Those seem to be the two most easily appreciated realities. That Warhol was instructing his viewer to dislike the way things had become or that he was extolling the nature of what he loved in the works I have mentioned. There is a third reality and is a well-rounded one in which the artist was probably aware of the contradictions inherent in his messages.
That final possibility, and the one in which I trust, is that he was the epitome of the fan, one who loved the famous and who chased fame himself. In doing this, he became increasingly aware of the mechanics which create famous individuals. He learned that bare circumstance alone was not enough to account for a person becoming a Star, and that there was a machine behind the entire phenomenon. Besides from learning this, he saw the utterly cold the truth about how celebrities are made and destroyed. He had to learn, at some point, that people were made into Stars only because they were meant to be sold. Again, his keen understanding of marketing and advertizing came into play. In reality, the potent force advertizing exerts over the population is unthinkably strong. It can charm them, swaying people to be compelled into the purchase of one brand. It can make them love a particular Star. The same mechanics which create and sell disposable cans to hold soup are not identical to those which make celebrities. They are, however, very similar.
The throw-away culture in which we live today is simply a heightened version of the reality which Warhol espoused in both his duplicate images of Hollywood Stars and via his Campbell’s Soup can. Perhaps some of the authenticity we believe is innately human was still at work within the souls of the consumers as well as within the souls of the human chattel while he was working on his portraits. Now, Human Beings without real fame are commodities sold for less than nothing on television and more of late, online. No, nothing is completely authentic and we are alone without a wizard who can predict the next turn-of-fact. After all is written about Warhol, perhaps his greatest role, the role of a prophet, warrants much more analysis and scrutiny.

Jeffrey Justice

Do not understand me as one who rips
Harshly away— consider yourself freed.
Dismiss me as breath which passed through your lips.

Know me as water which easily slips
Off with the tide at a slow, easy speed.
Forget me as harbors forget their ships.

All ships make their inevitable trips
To newer ports— and to these they proceed.
Dismiss me as breath which passed through your lips.

My leaving is no rare thing— no eclipse,
No riptide, unforeseen; nor a misdeed.
Forget me as harbors forget their ships.

Unlearn my shadow while the meek sun dips
Beneath the sea: Unlearn my callous creed.
Dismiss me as breath which passed through your lips.
Forget me as harbors forget their ships.

The consensus amongst Italians is that Amanda Knox is guilty and was fairly tried. This sentiment is mirrored in Britain, from where the victim hailed. The same is not necessarily so in the United States. Amanda Knox was a twenty year old college student from Seattle, Washington who was tried in a foreign nation. Could the contrast in reporting the details of her trial and between her characterization in the American and foreign press due simply because we must accept “ownership” of Knox? Are we apologetic for this child because she is one of ours? Are the forces of Nationalism to blame? Many Americans have been disturbed by the legal system through which she was processed and there exists a large degree of doubt in the United States about the fairness of this trial. Donald Trump has personally called for a boycott of Italian products based upon his own reaction to the Knox verdict. He urged the boycott in a post he made to his own blog. That an internationally recognized tycoon would react with such emotion, attempting to exert his power to punish the Italian economy speaks volumes about the passionate emotion the ultimate guilty verdict continues to exert. There is no middle ground.
Nationalism, hatred of strangers and love of countrymen were forces which were almost impossible to argue did not sabotage the trial of this particular woman. Xenophobia is of course, not peculiar to any one country. It exists, and we should monitor our own thoughts when it comes to how we feel about those amongst us who are not citizens. The most horrific example of the almost supernatural power which Nationalism wields is easily accomplished by remembering Germany under Hitler. Easily the wickedest man to have walked the earth, his understanding of Nationalism and Nationalistic fervor were the manner through which he accomplished his agenda. Hitler was evil and therefore, he used a power equivalent to that of religion as a weapon. We all know what religious fervor can cause. We all remember the attacks on NYC and at that time, we became intensely Nationalistic. Perhaps we needed to as we were dealing with great shock and concern that these events would be followed up by more domestic terror attacks. At the same time, some Americans became oriented against any person who they believed to be from the Middle East. This resulted in violent attacks against Americans citizens. There can be no doubt that when National Origin comes first as a matter of pride, visibility will grow weak and trouble will ensue.

As a psychic, writing this blog for my own website which focuses on my occupation as a psychic, I feel it necessary to go on the record and state why I am writing this blog. I did not sit down to write only about Nationalism and its hazards. I wanted to address the subject of Amanda Knox, herself. Neither may seem like appropriate material to be covered here, and so I offer up my explanation as to why I am using this venue to address these topics: .I do so because of my work. I am, in all instances, a person who is motivated by his psychic ability. I believe I must explain my thoughts on Amanda Knox because I believe her to be innocent. As a psychic, I am unable to see her as the ultimate, murdering force in this utterly sad case. As both a psychic and a human being I must mention that I have never lost sight of the fact that this was a murder case with a very lovely, very unfortunate young lady as victim. She cannot be brought back. Amanda Knox is also a victim in this horror show. Her life has been transfigured in ways we can barely imagine. Her family thousands of miles away, grieves as ardently as do the loved ones of the poor murdered girl. It is a different manner of grief, knowing that your daughter is alive but because of a convoluted investigation and a trial which could have been better orchestrated by middle-school students, you cannot properly enjoy that daughter. Life is sometimes as tragic and revolting as it is sublime and just.

It is not solely upon my psychic impression upon which I base my opinion. After arriving at that opinion via my psychic abilities, I still felt that a responsibility remained to examine whatever sources were available which would feature the evidence collected against Knox which would have been used to convict her of murder. It was while I conducted this research that I became both sickened and angered. I saw no damning evidence against Knox or Raffaelo Sollecito, who is the son of a physician and an Italian citizen. The case was tried vehemently by a rabid prosecutor who now faces two years for a number of legal infractions of which he has been accused. He is also a man who is an ardent devotee of conspiracy theories involving satanic ritualistic murder. He had initially included one hell of a fantasy about the 20 year old Knox and Sollecito being engaged in some sexual orgy which was of a satanic nature. He later changed his tune because it was just too far-fetched and some had noted that he was prosecuting people based upon suppositions made while examining the Myspace pages of both Knox and Sollecito, the content of which was horribly twisted.

Eventually, he withdrew this fabrication and concentrated on prosecuting Knox as the “mastermind” behind the murder of Merideth Kercher. This time, he explained the motive as having begun as a relatively normal feud between roommates which had accelerated to the point where Amanda orchestrated a violent sex game with Sollecito. His rationale was that Kercher had become upset with Amanda for bringing strange men into the flat at night. The press, already focused on the fresh-faced, attractive girl as being a sexual deviant of some sort, followed his lead. Amanda Knox who, as one paper printed had, “the face of an angel but the eyes of a killer,” stated in so many words that Knox had murdered Kercher because she was a prude.
This sort of story was printed frequently. In Italy, juries are not sequestered. The Knox jury ingested daily doses of printed and televised broadcasts sensationalizing Knox as a sinister femme-fatale. In Italy, juries need not be unanimous in their decisions.

The twenty year old Amanda Knox had once endured an interrogation for fourteen hours using extreme, sophisticated and aggressive techniques. One author has quipped that these techniques are meant “to break the mafia.” That she did not give a confession during that long interrogation is actually remarkable if you consider the confusion—the abject terror a young woman in a foreign country who had suddenly become a murder suspect. Since no evidence clearly points to her as being the killer, it can be assumed that she was so strong because she was confident she could never be found guilty. Reports that she had broken down and confessed were widely circulated. In fact, during a grueling fourteen hour interrogation all she did was change her story, after being coached to do so because she was told that she was having some sort of trauma-induced amnesia. So, her official statement that she had not been at home on the evening of the crime was replaced by a murky, meaningless “confession” that she may have been there and may have heard something.

The press was very concerned with her strange behavior as she became implicated. At various times she was reported as having turned cartwheels during a break in official police questioning. She was seen on television canoodling outside the villa where the murder occurred with her boyfriend. I have seen the video, and it looks to me that he is attempting to console her. I read about the cartwheels and this was something I did think strange. Until I remembered the way people deal with stress and stressful circumstances. They deal with them individually. They do not always act as others would expect. These were extreme circumstances and I believe that, if anything, she was trying to occupy herself and not think about the fact that she was going down the river. She probably knew she was, she stated at trial she was called “a stupid liar” during questioning. She has also alleged that she was hit in the back of the head by a female guard who told her she had struck her “to help you remember the truth.”

The press was concerned with more than her icy demeanor. I think it’s worth mentioning that the “Foxy Knoxy” nickname Amanda has been criticized for using on her Myspace page was not one she adopted as a young woman obsessed with sex. It had nothing to do with any reference to sex. It became her nickname at age eight while playing soccer, a game for which she had some talent and would continue to play as she grew up. The innocuous name, assigned to an eight year old was relentlessly exploited by the papers during the time leading up to her trial and as it was conducted. The readership bought the idea that the papers sold. Papers overly employed mention a silly nickname as an effective tactic by which to make her look like a party girl who was frigid emotionally… but not sexually.

A very different Amanda Knox is easily appreciated by watching videos of her family giving interviews on sites like Youtube. This other Knox emerges from the shadows of one very much engineered by the press in both Italy and the United Kingdom, where the victim, Merideth Kercher was from. The Amanda revealed is not only an intelligent and attractive woman, but one without any blemish on her record. She appears, by all means, to be the poster child for the “All American Girl.” She had a lifelong interest in learning and displayed an impressive aptitude for languages. An honors student at University, she took her interest in language seriously and eventually her study of Italian and German led her to the decision to study abroad.
She arrived in Italy and settled into a quaint villa in the old, quaint and provincial town of Perugia. Initially the student was utterly enthralled and constantly sent messages home about the happiness she had discovered. She was happy with her courses, her flat and with those she shared it. She was enjoying a new job at a bar… and falling rapidly in love with Sollecito. An exciting and fulfilling life and a new love with a young Italian man about her age, her life seemed like a dream. It soon became a nightmare. She would shortly end her career studying German and Italian in class only to become fluent in Italian during a two year stay in an Italian prison, awaiting trial. She never bargained she’d be in court there, representing herself in Italian.
She was arrested on the morning of November 6, 2007, following police questioning on the 5th and 6th of November. She was found guilty of murder on December 4, 2009.

From the Wikipedia article detailing the Kercher Murder, the following was taken. It is a bold statement about nature of the “evidence” used against Amanda Knox: “Apart from the alleged murder weapon, there was no forensic evidence such as DNA, hair, fibre, blood, skin or fingerprints, directly indicating that Knox had been in the bedroom where Meredith Kercher was sexually assaulted and murdered.”

Amanda Knox Before her Italian Nightmare

EVENT HOSTS: Anthony Haden-Guest, Karlin Mann, Susan Anton, Michael Musto, Dee Finley and others. The most inspired and inspirational figures of the New York art and Journalism scenes will be on hand to celebrate life, and raise funds to assist a fine photographer, Layla Love, who is currently battling a potentially blinding medical condition.

If you are wondering why I am blogging about this event, it is out of an authentic desire to see that as many people make it to “Through Your Eyes” as is possible. I will be at the event, donating my time and services in order to provide Psychic Readings of a wide variety to all who are interested in sitting with a psychic/medium. I am honored to have been asked to donate my time to this cause and event, and am indebted to Dee Finley for extending the offer. I am very glad to count this wonderful person amongst my friends.

Aside from psychic readings, there will be an impressive array of visual and sonic art for the attendee to absorb. Live painting, musical performances and an installation of some 200 photographs taken by Layla Love will be there for all to interpret and enjoy–A fashion show will also be presented. The event may also be called “interactive.” An open Mic. will be available for anybody who wishes to put their own art: be it in song or in spoken word, out into the air and thereby add to the energy of this very special gathering.

The event hosts (I have only given a partial list of their names) are representatives of New York society from diverse, yet unified backgrounds. Dee Finley is a talent who has brought a unique, difficult-to-label charisma to the city’s night life for years. She is a well-known event and nightclub promoter. Susan Anton originally gained publicity for winning the title of Miss California in 1969 and later went ahead to star in several feature films and to enjoy success as a recording artist, with one of her duets charting at number ten. Michael Musto is an acclaimed columnist and personality who has worked for the Village Voice and has made countless appearances on television talk and gossip shows. He is also the author of a Manhattan on the Rocks and other works. Anthony Haden-Guest is a cartoonist, art critic and socialite who divides his time between the United States and the United Kingdom. He is also a columnist and was a noted, earlier contributor to the magazine Rolling Stone. There are a number of other fantastic people hosting this fete. One of the many hosts will be the artist for whom this spectacular presentation has been organized to benefit: Layla Love.

All of the people who are donating their time, art, expertise and services to this very hip, very fun charitable event are putting their hearts into this in order for the extravaganza to reflect the vibrance and intense creativity of the New York Art Scene. This will not be a somber event. In fact, it should have as much spirit and verve as a spectacular party would be expected to possess. This isn’t just an Art Exhibit. It is a celebration where psychics and dancers, artists and healers will converge to raise energy, not just money.

The exhibition is extended (it will be open for six consecutive evenings) and kicks off on the evening of Friday, March 20 at 6:30pm. On that particular evening, the exhibition will close at 2:00am. An assortment of “Dancers, Artists, Healers– and New York’s Sassiest” (to quote directly from the event’s facebook advert page) will be on hand. The exhibition will run through Wednesday, March 25. Closing time on that night is set for 11:00pm.

I am planning on being there for both Friday and Saturday nights, but I possibly may stay longer. At this point, I cansay only that I will be there on those two evenings. I will be posting tweets on twitter and will blog if I determine that a longer stay is a possibility.

Below is the rest of the pertinent information you must need to know if you will be making plans to attend. I am also including an email which you may use to contact events planners for further information. Some of these details have already been stated in the blog, proper.

Location: COLLECTIVE HARDWARE 169 Bowery, two doors in from the corner of DeLancey. New York, NY. “Through Your Eyes… Welcome to Le Cirque d’ Art” will open on Friday, March 20 at 6:30 pm. and will run through Wednesday, March 25 upon which night the event will conclude at 11pm. Opening night will last until its scheduled closing time of 2:00am. For details about hours of operation on the other days I am furnishing you with an email which you may contact with questions. This email is printed below.

For additional information, please email: chateaudelion.pr@gmail.com

I am writing this very important blog in order to raise as much awareness as I possibly can about a truly rare event which has been orchestrated to benefit the artist and activist Layla Love, who is dealing with a potentially blinding medical condition.

BLOG in TWO PARTS:

1. All about my curious nickname, “The Mayflower Medium.”

2. An old family scandal related to “The Mayflower Madam”… sort of.

So— I have been given a new aka and I don’t dislike it. Let me explain this: Somebody I had not heard from in over a decade found me online and noticed that an internet search displayed results by my name indicating I am called “The Mayflower Medium.” This was funny, and I had to explain what it was all about. So, now I am doing that all over again—this time, however, I am writing to inform blog readers as to how this nickname was given me. Yes, it was given. I have had enough to do to keep people aware of my identity without adding a confusing alias).

Who gave me This Name?

A friend of mine assigned me the nickname sometime last summer, as I was riding the subway through Boston to make it to The Museum of Fine Arts. It was spoken in jest and I forgot about it within moments. However, my friend thought he was awfully clever and added the words “Mayflower Medium” as a suffix to my name in a number of emails. Some thought it funny enough to use incessantly. Though this had its roots in humor and in a campy cultural scandal, there remains the fact that I had ancestors on The Mayflower, which adds an ingredient of truth to this jumbled equation. Because of that authentic component, and because I did not find the chiding use of this nickname to be abrasive, I am keeping it as a proper sobriquet. In other words, I am being a good sport and allowing the moniker as I am not promoting it, nor upset with it. In other words, call me Jeffrey Justice “The Mayflower Medium.” Or don’t—it’s all fine.

Interesting Fact:

“The Mayflower Madam” came first!

Who was the woman known to so many as “The Mayflower Madam? She was a socialite who made a big stir when she was busted for running an escort service during the 1980’s. She was known in the tabloid press (and subsequently to the entire nation) as “The Mayflower Madam.” Her actual name is Sydney Biddle Barrows. After the legal trouble and media storm it generated slowly subsided, she went on to author a few books and was the subject of a biopic in which she was played by Candace Bergen. Below is information from the Wikipedia article titled Sydney Biddle Barrows (Information retrieved from said page on 13 January, 2009):

“Sydney Biddle Barrows (born January 14, 1952), known as the Mayflower Madam, was a modern American madam. After her escort service was exposed and disbanded, she gained worldwide notoriety, in part because she was part of the upper-class Biddle family of Philadelphia and is a Mayflower descendant. During her years as a madam, she used the alias Sheila Devin.”

A Century-Old Family Scandal which happened at the Biddle Home

What do I have in common with Sydney Biddle Barrows? I don’t run a brothel. I am pretty sure she is not working as a medium. We both have similar genealogies but she grew up with a sterling spoon in her mouth while I had a comfortable—though far from rich—upbringing.

Actually, there is an unusual connection between the Biddle Family and a branch of my family which had hailed from New York State. Their surname was Schufeldt— my spelling may not be 100% accurate. The Schufeldt Family spent their summers in the Point Shore neighborhood of Amesbury, Massachusetts—as guests of the Biddle Family who owned a large mansion which sat opposite the wide, flat Merrimack River. This home still stands today, its tall, mute walls plastered with stucco. A sign affixed to the building’s front wall declares that it is the Biddle Home and was built circa 1900. If these Biddles were related to Sydney Biddle Barrows I would not be surprised. This “Old Money” family is well-established in the United States and therefore, a few branches of the wealthy Biddle Family must be ensconced in a number of cities. I cannot tell you for certain that there exists a blood tie between Sydney Biddle Barrows and the Biddle Family my ancestors were close with because I have no time to sleuth around for proof. Besides, there is a far more intriguing story concerning events which took place at the Point Shore summer home of the Biddle Family: This concerns an old family scandal.

I know about a family scandal which started at the Biddle Home in Amesbury sometime around the year 1900. I heard this tragedy so many times as a child—yet it seems like a fantastic tale of star-crossed lovers written for the stage. Far from being a tale of love gone wrong penned for the stage, it was an actual course of events.

Mr. and Mrs. Schufeldt were dear friends of these Biddles, and were with them every summer, to my knowledge, for several consecutive years. Each year the Biddle Family had the Schufeldts as guests to their summer home, they would also bring their reputedly shy daughter along. She was called Hallie Schufeldt. One summer, Hallie fell in love with a young man she met at the estate. She may have been 19 or 20 years old. She may have thought that fate was nothing over which to worry—but, fate was to be a twisted and cruel influence on her life.

As she blossomed into a young woman, she had grown attractive enough to gain the attention of a young man who worked for the Biddle family. He was there every day or nearly as often since the nature of his work was to make deliveries to the Biddle Home. It isn’t difficult to imagine a young, uncultivated man from New Hampshire falling in love with a reserved, flirtatious heiress from New York. Questions arose regarding the possibility of this “delivery boy” having eyes for Hallie’s inheritance. These questions would be answered by brutal fate; they were apparently void of substance.

Hallie, assumedly intoxicated by emotions of love and sexual arousal, was soon speaking of marriage. However, Mr. Schufeldt found his daughter’s choice of suitor repulsive. He considered the boy too young, too unlettered, and too poor to make his daughter a suitable husband. Perhaps the younger man also presented some unspoken threat to the rigid control and authority he lorded over his daughter. I can imagine her father being vexed and angry when he faced a new reality in which a sturdy, handsome youth was the male who had the most “power” over his daughter—a power which was based in his daughter’s sexuality.

Hallie was presented an ultimatum by her father and told to stop seeing the delivery man. Rather than do as she was told, she became indignant and ignored her father’s edict. Instead, she began boldly relating her determination to marry the man whom her father detested. The intensity of emotion her uncharacteristic behavior ignited within her father was one which would not die with him. Rather, it would exert a tragic impression on several lives. He next told his daughter that she would be allowed to marry the man she loved. However, if she did, she would be cut out of the family completely and for the duration of her life. This meant that she would not be able to claim her share of the impressive material wealth the family owned. She would also be losing all contact with her father, mother and other relations—and have no support from them in any way.

The Schufeldts were a wealthy, powerful family and Hallie was a naïve young woman— the threats her father made when she announced her plans to marry against his wishes should have stopped the marriage. In 1900, women were only able to work at a scant number of occupations, none of which would have brought in more than a pittance. These jobs were largely in mills and factories. They were, by nature, not genteel occupations. Miss Schufeldt was accustomed to elegant living and not accustomed to doing any sort of labor. There were maids and other servants who took care of everything which Hallie owned, needed or used. This young woman was so poorly equipped to live a life detached from her family and from its money that I marvel at her persistence and determination. She remained resolute in her decision to marry the man she first met while flirting on the sun-dappled lawn of the Biddle estate.

The delivery man she fell in love with became the man she married. This man was the grandfather of my mother’s father. After she became Mrs. Hallie Somers, she saw her old way of life vanish into memories which were so unrelated to her new life that they must have seemed like dimly-understood dreams which concerned the wealthy classes. Effectively disowned by her family, she rapidly left the opulence of her former home for the rotten charm of a tumbledown shack complete with dirt floors. While she acclimated to her new home, she certainly also started to appreciate the disintegration of the profound love which led her to a life of pained poverty… Her new husband’s dependence upon alcohol worsened daily, becoming a pathological disorder which generated passionate shouting matches and also led to his perpetual state of unemployment.

I sometimes reflect on that story. Lately, I see beneath the surface theme of “Riches to Rags,” “Love is the Pastime of Fools,” etc. The subtext is fluid and moving with contrasting currents. The notion that obedience to family trumps romantic love is there. So is the belief that staying determined to our personal goals is paramount. Varieties of love, such as that a parent feels compared to that which a smitten teenager knows are explored, yes. It is the abuse of love and allegiance which I am focused on, presently. There is usually no excuse for stopping all communications with a child, a lover—a friend.

Truly Yours,

Jeffrey Justice

By Cherie Ronayne

If you’re shaking your head, wondering how in the ether you could hook yourself up with a job this cool, keep shakin’ it, baby. You need to be born with this talent (Most psychics agree that we all have the “lite” version of some form of psychic ability but we usually don’t use it or even recognize it. When that happens, like most things that go unused, it’s lost.)

Meet Jeffrey Justice, possesor and purveyor of an abnormally developed and highly accurate extra sense that he uses on a daily basis to pay the rent (So cool!).

Jeffrey was born into a family of psychically gifted people on his mother’s side but it was his grandmother who recognized his tendency to “know” things about people and encourage him, while his mother preferred to live a more normal life. (Not only does Jeffrey have an interesting family history in the psychic realm, his lineage is also interesting. His ancestors are right off the boat ~ the Mayflower ~ and are the first settlers of Newbury, where he was raised, and also Salem, the nation’s seat of the supernatural, where he coincidentally works several days a week.) Grandma tutored him in palmistry and card reading, heightening and fine tuning his innate abilities.

Jeffrey was frequently sick as a child. At 9 he suffered a frightening bout of encephalitis that may have tweaked his abilities; many psychics have pointed to a life changing illness, often accompanied by high fever that after recovering has left them with a “re-wired” brain, able to receive information that others can’t. Jeffrey agrees that this may have been the case with him and believes that he may have been one of the few earliest “Indigo Children” (see explanation at the end of this article).

Jeffrey is a small guy ~ slight and on the short side but his stature belies his huge inner powers. He is also pierced, tattooed, degreed (a B.A in English) and licensed ~ most importantly, licensed. MA state law requires psychic practitioners to be licensed to practice their art. Licensing includes passing a CORI check, which tends to weed out the quacks and people who don’t have the best intentions. Jeffrey is quick to point out that he won’t take money from people who need grief counseling or other professional medical interventions. And he is also quick to say that he doesn’t have all the answers. “Anyone who tells you they do, is lying.” He is straight up ~ the real deal. He believes in other planes of existence, saying that they operate on a different vibrational level than ours and it just requires “tuning in” to them.

During our interview, Jeffrey was engaging, thoughtfully answering questions; at the same time, he was “reading” personal information that was “bleeding” through me while we talked ~ and he was reading it with mind-boggling accuracy. He “saw” an area of my body that spoke of a potential problem, drawing a little sketch that pinpointed an area that had indeed caused me some concern. So I had to ask if he were able to shut off his abilities to be able to do ordinary things like running errands. “Yes, but it’s a matter of focus,” he says. Picture him in line at the grocery store being bombarded with messages for people around him! Does the work tire him out? The greatest number of readings he’s ever done in a day was 47 but no, he doesn’t get tired, “…just more energized by meeting people. “

And he meets lots of people. He has an impressive list of celebrities and sport stars he reads for and often travels to NYC to give readings. But will he give up his client list? Nope, he doesn’t kiss and tell.

He made the leap to full-time psychic and medium ~ using tarot cards and reading palms in addition to receiving information from clients’ bodies and spirits ~ after finding himself constantly unfulfilled in a variety of ordinary day jobs but encouraged by enthusiastic clients. His thoughts in the beginning were simple: “If I can just make enough money to make this month’s rent…” and sure enough, he’s made the rent every month and then some.

What does he like the best about having a career as a psychic? “Being able to help people connect to loved ones and helping people figure out their lives. Also giving people hope to see past the negativity.” And what is the worst thing about his career? “Listening to all the sad stories.”

If you feel the need to tell Jeffrey a sad story or get some otherworldly information, check out his very cool site, http://jeffreyjustice.com for more information or to book a reading. Don’t miss a chance to let Jeffrey give you some important information. I now know who will save my life someday!