The Great Speckled Bird Oct 31, 1974 Vol. 7 #48 pg. 1

George and Mike Ellis, the kind and talented managers of the Film Forum in Ansley Mall for the past several years, have been evicted from the theatre that everyone thought was their own. The theatre, which is known for its fine films that can be seen few other places, its one dollar ticket prices, its real popcorn, and its friendly greeting at the door, is now being run by businessman Louis Osteen. Osteen is trying to run the theatre as if nothing had changed. Already, George Ellis’s thousands of friends are beginning to tell him he will not be able to get away with it.

The history of George Ellis is synonymous with the history of the showing of good films in Atlanta. In June 1966 Ellis opened the Festival Cinema downtown. The Festival, specially designed for Ellis and winner of design awards, was one of the most comfortable and inviting places in the city. Despite its tiny ninety seat capacity, the theatre turned a living profit with its fare of fine art, and not so art, films that could be seen nowhere else.

By the beginning of 1969, however, things began going badly for the Festival. Even free coffee and whipped cream in the lobby did not seem to help. It began to look as if the theatre would go under and many friends of the Festival and George Ellis, invested money at the rate of a dollar a share in order to try to save it. Although this effort worked for a while, eventually the Festival with its menu of good films simply was no longer fiscally feasible.

By the middle of 1969, Ellis had, in an effort to make a continued living and to pay back his small investors, gone over to a straight diet of medium-hard porn. His intention was to spend a couple of years building up a financial cushion with the porn, and then to go back-to his original type of bookings.

Fulton County authorities intervened. At the end of 1970, Ellis and his theatre were busted for obscenity. Judge Dan Duke told Ellis that he would give him probation if Ellis would agree never to show porn again. Ellis agreed and soon after sold the Festival.

Ellis’ accomplishments at the Festival were not limited to showing good films. During the early years of the anti-war movement and the middle years of the civil rights movement, Ellis opened his theatre to literature tables, fund raising, and benefit films. He established a reputation as a businessman with a difference he was at least as concerned with serving the needs of his customers as he was with making a profit.

Ellis was not out of the theatre business for long. By the middle of 1971 he had made an agreement with Modular Cinemas, owners of the then Ansley Mall Mini Cinema, to take over the theatre. The deal called for Ellis and his son Mike to be totally responsible for the management of the theatre in return for a straight 50% cut of the net profits. The Film Forum, with the same type of films as the Festival and—wonder of wonders one dollar tickets, was born.

Shortly after Ellis took over the theatre, Modular Cinemas became Conners Capital Corp. The contract however, remained in effect.

Since that time, the Film Forum, with its small capacity of about 174, has been a financial and entertainment success. The theatre and the Ellis’s have built up a dedicated following, and the Film Forum has been a small but consistent profit maker.

In January 1974 Louis Osteen, a former principal of Modular Cinemas, contracted to buy the Film Forum from Conners Capital. Although there is currently some question of what exactly transpired at this point, Osteen apparently told the Ellis’s that their arrangement would continue, even though the written contract had expired. At any rate, the Ellis’s did not demand a new written contract.

The end, for the time being, came for the Ellis’s on the night of November 18. George Ellis was in New York City and his son Mike was running the theatre. At about 8:30 Osteen, with no previous warning, walked into the theatre and told Ellis that he was relieved. George Ellis flew back from New York immediately and. the next day, went to see his old friend Osteen to see if something could be worked out. It couldn’t.

This reporter has talked to Louis Osteen and asked him his reasons for taking over the Film Forum. Osteen told the Bird, “There’s just been a management change here that was effective this Monday night past. The decision was made by the owners (a corporation headed by Osteen) of the business who relieved Mike and George Ellis of their connection here. The reason is. … at this time I don’t think I would like to get into it since there are some things I would have to resolve.”

The issues to be resolved include whether an oral contract exists between Osteen and the Ellises. If one can be shown to exist, it is as binding as if it were down on paper.

Another issue that needs to be resolved is whether the theatre can survive under its new management. 0steen intends to keep the current format at the theatre. He told the Bird, “It’s been very successful and we don’t feel there’s a need to change it.” Why then were the Ellis’s relieved? One can only assume that 100 per cent of the profits is a lot better than 50%. But, as many of George and Mike’s friends are saying, 100% of nothing is nothing.

Osteen knows he is in for rough sailing. He told the Bird, “It’s gonna be a hard thing to carry on the Film Forum like George and Michael did.” Osteen doesn’t know how right he is.

We have already received many calls asking what happened to George and what can be done about it. Although current employees of the Film Forum simply say “George is off tonight” when asked what happened to George and Mike, the word of what really happened is finally beginning to get out.

People feel strongly about this question. It is a rare businessperson indeed who cares as much about their customers as they do about profits. Mike and George Ellis are in this category. This paper will carry no Film Forum ads and run no Film Forum reviews until George and Mike are back at the theatre, or safely installed somewhere else. Creative Loafing, one of our competitors, has also pulled their ad this week. Other papers, despite hard times and low ads, may join. There is talk of phone campaigns, pickets, and legal action. By this time next week, some or all of these should be underway. If you are interested in helping George and Mike, call us here at 875-8301; we’ll plug you into whatever is happening.

There is nothing wrong with Louis Osteen. By all accounts, he is not a bad man. He simply has more of an eye for profits, and less for people, than have George and Mike. The Ellis’s have given to the Atlanta community for years. Now let’s help them back. —jon Jacobs for the Bird

The Message in 2007

Truth and individual freedom. Freedom of expression. Creativity, love and respect for all things. Freedom for an individual to make a choice – sexually, spiritually and socially. The right to be different and still belong. Honor in refusing to fight without judging those who did. Our right to make a difference. Our right to think independently. Our willingness to share with others.

– from website for 40th summer of love reunion in San Francisco

I finally realized what your question meant:  “What did you take away from that time?”  Although I did not get this stuff from “The Strip”, per se, I did get it from the cultural transformation of which “The Strip” was a manifestation – one that was easily accessible to an eager and impressionable teenager.  So I would say that “The Strip” was one of the things that enabled me to interact with and draw more from “the era” than I otherwise would have been able to.

 An open mind.

Readiness to question assumptions and conventional wisdom.

Respect for and tolerance of the views, choices, cultures and lifestyles of others.

Refusal to judge others by what they wear, what they drive, or what they own.

Readiness to defend an individual’s freedom to be whoever he/she wants to be.

A never-ending quest for who I am and who I want to be.

Love for democracy and freedom of expression and the press.

Anguish and anger at the wrongs in the world, and a dedication to fight against and help fix them.

Mistrust of institutions and leaders (e.g., government/political, corporate, church) with large vested interests, and an abhorrence for extreme nationalism and absolutist religion.

Abhorrence for war and militarism and a powerful desire for peace.

Powerful curiosity about and fascination with the unconventional, the strange and different, the offbeat and edgy, and an eclectic taste in music and art.

Preference for ‘intangible’ values over monetary gain.

Courtesy of Bill Mankin’s brain.

Every small town had a group of creative kids that, try as they might, could not take delight in praising the emporer’s new clothes. In my town we named our group Lambda Sigma Delta. (Get it?)

High school sororities and fraternities dogmatically controlled the teenage society of our town.  They were the football players and their rah-rahs who felt high school football was the center of the universe and Heaven was involved with the Dawgs or Bear Bryant. Anyone not so athletically inclined was fair game for abuse since they were obviously of an inferior species that did not live football. Social organizations had emerged that were thinly veiled efforts to rub it in to anyone not a member that they were losers.  Two small town-snob, pseudo-debutante clubs prevailed.  The college Greek system run wild at a petty level.

Many kids in my area came from families that could not afford the accoutrements to buy their non-athletic child acceptance in these groups. Thus many people were caused great pain upon suddenly learning in the tenth grade that they weren’t good enough for some reason and had been blackballed.  Girls excluded from both clubs were devastated.

Every yearbook each High School sorority put in a big picture of all their members dressed as Southern Belles arrayed on the manicured lawn of some antebellum style home that most resembled a mansion and wasn’t a funeral home.  Beneath the big picture was a picture of the club officers, the most socially successful.  The listing of officers immortalized the social pecking order for the year.

At this memorable Happening party the a plan was created as a kind of performance art for the less than socially acceptable among us.  Create our own sorority, since they said the guys all looked like girls, and name it Lambda Sigma Delta as a satiric jab to the prevailing society in school.

We could buy an “ad” to picture our entire group and immortalize the out group. The title would say, “Lambda Sigma Delta – We love you!”  We decided to get a bunch of freaks of both sexes dressed in wild costumes on the porch of a ramshackle shack that needed one good push to settle back into the weed covered ground.  Our names would be listed.  We had a small reproduction of the same picture with bizarre official-sounding titles, mostly in-jokes, made up for all members.  One I remember was Theron O. Odlaug’s keeper.  Mr. Odlaug had written the manual we used in Advanced Biology to dissect a fetal pig.

Ads cost money. We got an understanding teacher as sponsor, and registered as a school club. We could then automatically qualify for a space at the Tiftarea County Fair and automatically win an honorarium if we completed our exhibit.

So there among the spaces set apart by chicken wire was our abomination among the champion hogs and jellies and the “Candy Stripers Salute to Progress”. We had built a swing in the middle of a large space and covered it and the ground beneath with real, artificial, and paper flowers of every hue. In the background were large letters in a style that has come to be called psychedelized. They said, ” We Love You! Lambda Sigma Delta”. Very colorful and unusual, but positive. How horrible!

They didn’t get it.  We outraged the local American Legion County Fair. People threatened to never come to the fair again or to remove their livestock or preserves from judging or to even withdraw their own exhibit.

Apparently we were somehow more dangerous to the community morals than the semi-hidden gamblers and the hootchi-koo and moonshine being somewhat discretely consumed at night in the fair.   Brown butcher paper was strung to hide our disgrace from a view and we were warned we had two hours to remove this outrage.

The ignorance motivating our community leaders dismayed, but did not surprise us; they were fighting a rear guard action against civil rights and now had white kids acting crazy, too!

Fred and I had earlier appeared before the school board to ask about refining the length of hair acceptable in the school dress code. We had help from the ACLU and had prepared a well- reasoned and logical case, which we presented. Then the father of a friend slid back in his chair and said, “Tell me boys, what is your present affiliation with The American Nazi Party?”  Hair touching your collar makes you a Nazi?!

Despite their anger, being a registered school club that had actually completed an exhibit, we automatically received an honorable mention and $25 for bringing this shame on the fair. This was the down payment for the ad.  Sympathetic kids on the yearbook staff had told us the yearbook would come out and we would all be gone then the books would be closed as every year.

Now our ad was in the yearbook.  When it came out, no one got it or the name; they wanted us expelled as communists. But somehow all the Senior pictures were correct except Fred’s was missing and mine had the name switched with a girl. We were told social leaders had done it since our page was already at the printers. Ten years later at a reunion I had people tell me they were still glad they had ripped that page out of their annuals at the time.

Our most heinous crime, for which there were murmurs to have us all expelled, was collecting wild flower bouquets and giving them to all the faculty members with little cards saying ” We Love you! Lambda Sigma Delta”. Shades of Stranger in A Strange Land!  Teachers complained that this Love-thing was getting out of hand. Seemingly they preferred the prevailing attitude that any teacher not a coach must be a loser or a homo or something, to people appreciating what they were trying to do. Even today, as a teacher myself, I really can’t figure that one out…

People were sure we were on drugs but most failed to even decipher the initials of our group, which we proudly wore in the form of Greek letters like a fraternity. Yet the name only signified a searching of attitudes; we mostly did not even smoke cigarettes, were one of the few groups that were mostly non-drinkers, and Gabi was yet to be offered the first joint I had ever heard of.

But in Atlanta Pixie had heard about Morning Glory seeds and had told Tommy. A chemist had told her they contained the same natural alkaloids that made up L.S.D.; real Flower Power.  The summer before I started college she and Tommy decided to buy several packages of Morning Glories with spacey sounding names. (Now they coat the seeds in poison so you can’t do this without planting the seeds and waiting a season to collect more, but then you have them for ever, and the flowers.)

They ground the seeds into a powder and drank it in a milk shake. Gabi and I watched over them.  At first I got really scared that all my worst fears would be realized when they both began to complain of terrible stomach cramps. They began to look pale and sickly. I was worried they might die; until they threw up. I figured it was out of them now like getting your stomach pumped. They both began to smile beatifically.  We walked around with them as they giggled a lot and said strange things. It was weird but kind of a let down from the weird things I had had expected from what we had heard and read about L.S.D.  They had made it sound like the whole world should see your hallucinations or something!

It took Philip K. Dick to bring that scenario to fruition.

2010 lambdas –

  RIP Ronnie Chambley 7-15-2014

My Generation, The Baby Boomers, is the best-documented generation in history. We are the visible evidence of the outburst of Loving, an affirmation of living, which greeted the end of darkness and inhumanity of WWII. We, the Baby Boomers, are our parents saying yes to life. Our stories are varied, yet a thread of commonality runs through them all. A thread that seems to show a force at work on us; the tidal pull of a third wave building.

My Generation has changed the face of our culture with its every permutation, if only by sheer numbers. We are the generation of Rock N’ Roll, the Love generation of Vietnam, the generation of Disco, the Computer generation; and who knows what changes we will go through before we become the largest geriatric population the world has ever known. And with all the piercings and tattoos, there are going to be some UNIQUE old folks.

Too much of history becomes sanitized until we have a feeling of inadequacy to stand our lives against the giants that lived during former ages. From the pasteurized accounts of their times, we perceive them as purer than ourselves.  We picture everyone alive during the Revolutionary War period as being a brave patriot consumed with a desire for Independence; we tend to lose the Loyalists, profiteers, and indifferents.

Or worse a period or a people undergoes a form of cultural censorship that decides to delete certain “unpleasant ” details to keep from giving an “inaccurate” picture, i.e. one that would be embarrassing in later ages that did not share similar cultural norms.  We know Sir Isaac Newton the scientist and mathematician, but we don’t teach about his works in alchemy any more. We tend to picture all ages as being our own with minor changes in costume, only somehow more elevated from the human condition while maintaining our prejudices and attitudes.

   God cannot alter the past but historians can.   –Samuel Butler

  Truth exists; only falsehood has to be invented.  –Georges Braque

 Unfailingly, humans pity their ancestors for being so ignorant and forget that their descendants will pity them for the same thing.  – Edward Harrison

  Seeing is deceiving.  It’s eating that’s believing.  –James Thurber

Great changes happened when My Generation came onto the stage in force; yet already as I peruse the information on the generation that generated the Information Age, little I see fits the story of the changes as I knew them.  My proposal is to tell the story of a small sliver of My Generation as it was experienced by myself. Make of it what you will.

Patrick Edmondson 1996

By JP Burns (JP)     =================

The scene opens in a dimly lit, smoky coffeehouse, populated by pale, gaunt figures in black turtlenecks, goatee’s, and berets. The sound of bongo drums droning in the background, keeping the beat as the lone figure on stage hisses a poem of revolution and woe.

“You’re one cool cat, daddy-o.” Maynard Krebs would have said.

This is the scene many of us think of when we hear the word beatnik or bohemian, or when we refer to coffeehouse poetry. These are the prominent images of the beatnik stereotype, however, as it seems to be with all stereotypes, the image is incorrect, and the generation that gave birth to this stereotype is sadly misunderstood. To understand the reality of the counter-culture we must first try to define it and identify its progenitors, a task, which is often difficult when speaking of social movements.

There has always been a group of people with little interest in the trappings of accepted society; those who have no interest in keeping up with the Jones’s, climbing the corporate ladder, or generally participating in ‘the rat race’. A group whose disillusionment with contemporary society has set them apart in some fashion: the bohemian lifestyle so to speak.

What is bohemian exactly? I’m not sure anyone can adequately define it although one can trace the use of the term back to the gypsies who were believed to have originated from a country called ‘Bohemia’. The term itself has taken on the connotation of a lifestyle of hedonism, non-conformity, and the literary/artistic avant-garde. While discussing the essence of the bohemian lifestyle Robert Duncan wrote: “In a Bohemian household you have immediacy to all the arts so that you are going to have some aspect of music, poetry, painting, and also the decoration of things at the same level.” That access to the arts in all their forms coupled with the resistance to the norms of society provides the essence of the counter-culture lifestyle.

The Beat Generation is a bit easier to define, in spite of its maligned stereotype. The term ‘Beat’ was coined by Poet/Author Jack Kerouac in 1948 during a conversation with novelist John Clellon Holmes, it was meant to describe himself and his friends (Allen Ginsberg, Neal Cassady, William S. Burroughs, Gary Snyder, Lawrence Ferlinghetti, Gregory Corso and Michael McClure); a group of post World War II intellectuals who could not fit into the expected roles of society: corporate robots, or ‘spit and polish’ soldiers.

The phrase ‘Beat Generation’ was meant to echo Ernest Hemingway’s description of his own crowd as the ‘Lost Generation’.

He used the term ‘beat’ in much the same fashion that it is commonly used today, as in the terms “beaten down”, or “I’m totally beat”. The connection here is one of disappointment, defeat, disillusionment, and resignation. The phrase ‘Beat Generation’ was meant to echo Ernest Hemingway’s description of his own crowd (which came of age during the First World War), as the ‘Lost Generation’.

Jack Kerouac expanded his ‘definition’ of the Beat Generation to include a second meaning: ‘beatific’ or sacred and holy. Kerouac explained that by describing his generation as beat he was trying to capture the secret holiness of the downtrodden. He reflected this idea of holiness when writing of ‘the saintly hobos’ in ‘On the Road’, published in September 1957.

In her paper “The Beat Generation,” Amanda Erickson described the ‘Beat Generation’:

“The Beat Generation was born out of post-war disillusionment and restlessness. They were a generation of young people struggling to come to terms with the chaos and uncertainties that were a part of their upbringing. Their movement, if it can accurately be called that, manifested itself in literature and poetry, which threw off the traditional, classical format to become a character in and of itself. The Beats attempted to express themselves in a way that was extremely personal and extremely in-your-face. They addressed issues that were taboo at the time, most notably homosexuality and drug use, writing largely for and to each other, sharing life experiences and crying out against an establishment that harbored little space for individuality and protest.”

In 1958, after the Beat ‘movement’ had influenced multitudes of alienated young men and women to migrate to the North Beach area of San Francisco, Herb Caen wrote a column for the San Francisco Chronicle in which he coined the term ‘Beatnik’. While there is speculation on the original meaning of ‘nik’, Caen insists that it was actually borrowed from the satellite ‘Sputnik, (meaning traveling companion)’ which had just been launched by the Soviet Union, striking fear into the hearts of many Communist-fearing Americans. On April 2, 1958, Caen wrote:

“Look magazine, preparing a picture spread on S.F.’s Beat Generation (oh, no, not AGAIN!), hosted a party in a North Beach house for 50 Beatniks, and by the time word got around the sour grapevine, over 250 bearded cats and kits were on hand, slopping up Mike Cowles’ free booze. They’re only Beat, y’know, when it comes to work.”

Caen’s article not only gave the Beats an unwanted name, it also gave them an unwanted stereotype; one-room pads, sandals, goatee’s, bongo’s and berets… it wasn’t too long after that when the first Beat Generation exploitation movies and TV beatniks came out. Soon, every teenager wanted to be a beatnik.

[Under influences from the Civil Rights Movement, I believe,]  The Beat coffehouses began to feature folk music, which started the Folk Movement. Then Bob Dylan fell under Beatle influence and changed it to Folk Rock. Folkies starting to rock created what we think of as sixties bands; and the Beat goes on..

Wikipedia says the following about beatniks. I feel it illustrates a thread in American outsider culture that continued with hippies.

“Life magazine, Charles Kuralt, and a host of other entertainers and journalists reduced Beatness to a set of superficial, silly externals which have stayed with us ever since: goatees, sunglasses, poetry readings, coffeehouses, slouches and “cool, man, cool” jargon. The only problem is there never were any beatniks in this sense (except, perhaps, for the media influenced imitators who came along late in the history of the movement).

Beat culture was a state of mind, not a matter of how you dressed or talked or where you lived. In fact, Beat culture was far from monolithic. It was many different, conflicting, shifting states of mind. [We need] … an attempt to move beyond the cultural clichés and slogans, to look past the Central Casting costumes, props, and jargon the mass media equated with Beatness, in order to do justice to its spirit.

Since 1958, the terms Beat Generation and Beat have been used to describe the anti-materialistic literary movement that began with Kerouac in 1948, stretching on into the 1960s. The Beat philosophy of antimaterialism and soul searching influenced 1960s musicians such as Bob Dylan, the early Pink Floyd and The Beatles.

At the time that the terms were coined, there was a trend amongst young college students to adopt the stereotype, with men wearing goatees and berets, rolling their own cigarettes and playing bongos. Fashions for women included black leotards and wearing their hair long, straight and unadorned in a rebellion against the middle class culture of beauty salons. Marijuana use was associated with the subculture, and during the 1950s, Aldous Huxley’s The Doors of Perception further influenced views on drugs.”

Thus was born the absurdist elements Dada-io.