Scanners

We had thirteen first-timers on the Conscious Life retreat this weekend, meaning less than six weeks’ sobriety apiece. Helen, of course, knows that the post-seminar entertainment needs to be replenishing and serene but, once we found that a previous attendee had defaced the front of the DVD machine, we were forced to go with whatever VHSs lay under the tartan shroud in the back of her truck.

David Cronenburg’s "Scanners" undid much of Friday’s good work. Larry M. journalled afterward that this telepathy-based thriller had the production values of a "Stephen King’s It", but the good sense to pack up its stall after 85 minutes. Great breakthrough for Larry. Jason F. was visibly upset by the viscera spilled onscreen; we talked things through during shantih-hour and he managed to internalize most of his shrieking by lights-out. Desiree was rapt to silence by the depth of some of the basses on the synth soundtrack. Tomorrow we’ll have her gently chant the coyote quote from Guru Om Basti.

For Saturday we’re left with "Cool Runnings" or Season 1 of "Deadwood". I suspect Julian G’s ongoing hostility issues will compel us to plump for the latter.