Hartsongs

UPDATE: The Colbert Report has a clip on this story: Nailed Em: Northern Border. If that doesn't load, you can also see it here.

Andrew's son, 'bongo poet' Marcel, wrote an article about the filming, and his band, 'Black Kite', has a website here.

(skippy, they're in your territory...;)

(cross posted @ Blah3)
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“I should warn people that the electronic footprint you leave on the Net will be used against you. It cannot be erased.” Andrew Feldmar

It was the furthest thing from a threat to our nation when the soft-spoken Doctor traveled to Seattle (or tried to) to meet an associate at the airport last August.

Andrew Feldmar is a man of many letters, much study, is well respected, and world renown. He's been invited to work with the United Nations, has counseled victims of Chernobyl, and has maintained a thriving practice in psychotherapy in Vancouver, B.C. for many years.

He's worked with Fritz Perls, R.D. Laing, Leon Redler, and Francis Huxley, among others, and has taught many classes, led many workshops, and given many lectures in his field, and has conducted seminars and workshops in Hungary, Russia, Croatia, Serbia, Canada and the U.S.

I was fortunate enough be able to attend some of those presentations, and consider him to be a mentor.

Born in Budapest, 1940. WWII tore his family apart, and his parents were deported. The little boy was hidden by a lady who gave him the pseudonym Andras Igaz (Andrew the Truthful).

After the world war he left Hungary at the age of 16. He graduated in mathematics, then studied philosophy and psychology. An event in 1976 changed his life significantly - he met the famous psychiatrist R.D. Laing. Andrew immediately became Laing's pupil, colleague and friend until his professor's death.

Andrew Feldmar lives, practices and gives lectures in Vancouver now. He has published a large number of books and articles on psychology. The documentary "There is Life before Death" - made about him several years ago - is still being screened at movie theatres in Budapest. His ideas often elicit extreme emotional responses...

This quiet, unassuming man has never been arrested, never been in trouble anywhere in the world, yet the border guard played judge and jury in evicting this non-violent gentleman from our country, admonishing him in the process that he is never welcome within our borders again.

His 'crime'? Having put pen to paper. Andrew published a scholarly article detailing his experiences in experimenting and researching with LSD back in the '60's and early '70's, which came up in a 'Google' search done by the border guard, who then spurned him; he was held for four hours, fingerprinted, scolded, and in spite of the fact that two of his children reside in this country, told never to darken our door again.

Andrew could go through the lengthy and demeaning process of applying for a waiver, but has chosen not to.

I checked with some lawyers on both sides of the border and found out that the waiver process is an extremely degrading process...an indefinite process of harassment for nothing I waited a bit because I don't like to be cut off from my children. if anything happened to one of them I would be really upset if I couldn't immediately go to them...so I thought I might apply and go through the trouble anyway just not to be barred from them but just recently I decided I'm not going to do that and that's when I consented to some interviews and that's when I came public basically to warn people that what you put on the internet now can be used against you in this paranoid over-reaction of the U.S. government...What I feel that I'm punished for is not the actual ingestion of these substances, which I did...I got punished for writing about it...I think we are entering the dark middle ages...it's a silencing technique...

In typical Bush fashion, the Resident and his family decided to invite the Sarkozy family over for a 'down home' country picnic.

"We're at my mom and dad's house, fixin' to sit down with the president of an ally...We're going to give him a hamburger or hot dog, his choice...If he'd like some baked beans we've got that, as well...If he feels like it, he can have him a piece of blueberry pie..."

"Native Maine corn," chimed in Laura Bush.

The President's wife begged off, claiming she and her children were ill, only to be spotted walking about town later, having made a swift recovery.

Perhaps she had seen enough Bush talking with his mouth full (and chewing with it open) that she decided not to have her children influenced by a psuedo-sophisticate. One can imagine the conversation leading up to her phone call...

Nicolas: So what are we going to do about that lunch tomorrow?

Cecilia: The bush-league bar-b-que? Really, Nicolas, I'd rather not go.

Nicolas: How will it look if we don't? Laura invited us two months ago.

Cecilia: Nico, darling. Do you really think I care whether or not I impress little Laura? Honestly. Those people are so nouveau riche...his idea of quality cheese is some gummy processed slab tossed onto a slice of bread.

Nicolas: I know, but even so, I'm quite obliged to go. Mon Dieu, do they really think this will make up for the 'Freedom Fries'?

Cecilia: And that husband of hers...such atrocious manners!
I really don't want the children around such crude behavior.

Nicolas: Darling, you do whatever you want. After all, we are supposed to be on vacation; and it's not as though we'd be socializing with them otherwise...