ATTN Twin Peaks fans - Jerry Horne is a head and Prankster, Final Dossier spoilers within

Forums:

Some selections from the new Mark Frost book; "Twin Peaks: The Final Dossier", in the section discussing Jerry Horne;

Anecdotally, it appears that motivation for his activism went well beyond the libertarian or fiduciary into the personal; by which I mean Jerry, according to a number of sources I’ve heard from, has been perpetually as high as an orbiting communications satellite since approximately 1969.

(For instance, just a small sample of the available confirming evidence: As a college student—Gonzaga, class of ’68—Jerry drove cross-country to attend Woodstock in his own private customized Airstream trailer. He appears briefly in the Oscar-winning documentary of that landmark concert, literally emerging from the Airstream with a bevy of nubile hippie chicks in a cloud of smoke. He was for years a known associate of renowned Oregon-based author Ken Kesey—One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest—a notorious libertine and sixties-style consciousness-raising advocate, as a member of his ragtag entourage of followers, known collectively as the Merry Pranksters. A title which, come to think of it, is as concise a distillation of Jerry Horne’s essence as I could hope to express. For example: Jerry once attempted to obtain a medical license for marijuana use—years before it became legal for that purpose—in order to treat his “addiction to marijuana.”)

 

and he’s also a fanatical audiophile. His collection of original and reissued vinyl literally fills a barn, one of a collection of deluxe private cabins he owns next to a small lake far up in the woods above Twin Peaks, where, legend has it, he once collaborated with famed Canadian rocker Neil Young to build a custom sound system that effectively turned two of these cabins into gigantic speakers, utilizing a woodshed as a subwoofer.

Jerry has been known to paddle a canoe out into the middle of the lake, activate the system by remote control, and crank up the volume—as the saying goes—to eleven. The resulting wall of sound from certain recordings is rumored to create whitecaps on the water and terrify most of the indigenous wildlife within a five-mile radius. (Dr. Jacoby was once heard to mention, on his pirate radio show, that one winter Jerry’s blasting of Miles Davis’s album Bitches Brew at top volume triggered a small avalanche.)

You know Jerry Horne probably saw some killer early PNW dead shows.

Also, Dr. Jacoby worked for the Grateful Dead;

As the Internet mushroomed, Jacoby’s blog gradually brought him back to some fraction of his previous 1960s notoriety, and to the attention of many prominent counterculture figures who had through the years kept, as they like to say, “on truckin’.” At the personal invitation of an unspecified band member, Jacoby spent most of 1994–95 on the road with the Grateful Dead, or, as I once heard Albert refer to them, “the world’s greatest bad garage band.” (Did you know Albert is a stereo and vinyl enthusiast with a jazz collection that numbers in the thousands? Yes, you probably did.) Whether Jacoby served the band as a “senior spiritual adviser”—the doctor’s version of his job description—or, according to one ex-roadie’s more blunt assessment, “the Banzai Pipeline to all manner of psychotropic traveling,” Jacoby’s time on the bus came to an abrupt end with the untimely death of singer and lead guitarist Jerry Garcia. I believe that Jacoby’s enduring fondness for loud and colorful neckties is most likely a tribute to his old friend.

Thanks for the reminder on the book, Daylight.

Going to have to snag that.

Bad binoculars!