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KINGSTON, Jamaica – Mortimo Planno, a philosopher
\n regarded as a key figure in the development of the Rastafarian religion,
\n has died. He was 85.<\/p>\n
from MSNBC<\/a><\/p>\n Mortimo from Rastafari The Dowbrigade’s involvement with Rastafarianism<\/a> dates So it should come as no surprise that when word reached Of course, we did some research first. When we found After Christmas with the family, we flew into Logan Our colleague who had collected the car had also collected, Somehow the combination of powerful car, powerful drugs Since no one was hurt, both cars were driveable and Prudently, we decided to refrain from calling in the With four licensed drivers, we drove straight through, There we were, four 18-year-old college freshmen, stranded Exactly what we did to get the money is a gem we are We did get to Jamaica, but we didn’t find Boz. We We stayed At the beachfront Hilton Tikibar we also got into a But those are other stories for other times. For now, KINGSTON, Jamaica – Mortimo Planno, a philosopher regarded as a key figure in the development of the Rastafarian religion, has died. He was 85. from MSNBC Mortimo Planno was born in Kingston on September 6.1920. He was one of the … Continue reading
\n Planno<\/a> was born in Kingston on September 6.1920.
\n He was one of the foundation members of the Kingston Rastafari encampment
\n on the "Dungle". His devoted studies of all matters concerning
\n the faith combined with his brilliant intellect, established Bro. Planno
\n or Bro. Cummie, as he is affectionately called, as one of the most distinguished
\n elders of the movement.<\/p>\n
\n Selassie I Center<\/a>, Finland<\/p>\n
\n back to 1971, when he was a college freshman interested in anthropology
\n (which at that point we thought of as living with primitive tribes
\n in the jungle ? la Margaret Mead), comparative religion and cataloging
\n the
\n relative merits of Panama Red, Santa Marta Gold, Durban Poison, and
\n Thai sticks.<\/p>\n
\n our small group of like minded explorers that a strange charismatic prophet
\n named Boz was running around in the Jungles of Jamaica, rabble rousing
\n and preaching a revolutionary religion called Rastafarianism, which held
\n herb as a sacrament and expressway to God, who they called Jah, we immediately
\n organized an expedition for the upcoming intersession.<\/p>\n
\n out that the real central tenets of Rastafarianism were that Rastas
\n were the legendary lost 13th tribe of Israel, and that His Majesty Emperor
\n Haille Selassie was the divine incarnate because, as the last King in
\n Africa, he could trace his lineage directly, generation by generation,
\n with names,
\n dates and vital statistics, to the biblical union between KIng Solomon
\n of Israel and the Queen of Sheba, we were hooked.<\/p>\n
\n on Sunday Dec. 26. Another member of our crew, who is now a public official
\n and must remain nameless, met us at the airport with our shiny new Driveaway
\n car – a red Cadillac Coupe de Ville. In those days, rich snowbirds were
\n more than willing to turn their fancy rides over to responsible Harvard
\n students who needed a cheap ticket to the Sunshine State. The drivers
\n left a deposit which they got back, usually along with a fat tip, when
\n they turned the car back to its owner.<\/p>\n
\n a few days before, the final output of the Fall semester of our associates
\n in the chem department, who were hard at work developing what would only
\n later come to be known as designer drugs. It was a previously unreported
\n short-acting hallucinogen called Diethyltryptamine (DET), a minute
\n variation on the Dimethyltryptamine (DMT) molecule which seemed to have
\n unique visual qualities.<\/p>\n
\n and powerful hormones resulted in a fender-bender on the old Southeast
\n Expressway between Logan and Cambridge. Unfortunately, the other car
\n in the incident was an official government vehicle belonging to the US
\n Navy.<\/p>\n
\n we were blocking traffic on an elevated ramp, we exchanged papers and
\n went our separate ways, but our expedition was in jeopardy. Who
\n would want to turn their Caddy over to a bunch of hippy scum for a 2,000
\n mile drive when they can’t even get out of town without getting
\n into an accident?<\/p>\n
\n accident until we were well en route, making the cancellation of the
\n mission nearly impossible. Of course. the fact that we were kissing goodbye
\n our deposit and tip would require some quick thinking and desperate measures.<\/p>\n
\n but we weren’t taking any more chances with our safety. We instituted
\n an absolute rule, like airline pilots or kids waiting to get back into
\n the pool after lunch: no smoking of the DET for an hour before taking
\n the wheel.<\/p>\n
\n in Miami without even enough to pay for our airfare to Jamaica, let alone
\n a budget to find Boz, no ride back to Massachusetts and no more dope.
\n Obviously, we needed to run a scam.<\/p>\n
\n saving for our our autobiography or the deaths of the other people involved,
\n some of whom have considerably more to lose than we do. We have
\n our standards. They may be low, but they exist, and burning old
\n friends and running mates is beyond the pale. Unless we see some erious money on the table.<\/p>\n
\n did, however, penetrate the jungle and the inner circle of the Rastafarians,
\n living for several weeks with Justin Hines, the legendary Rasta, Ska
\n and Reggae figure who influenced Bob Marley in the early days and was actually tight with Mortimo Planno. <\/p>\n
\n in Justin’s compound (The Jamaica Heights Club) in Steertown, visited fields
\n and learned secrets of cannabis cultivation, met mysterious figures
\n named after US Presidents, smoked the legendary Seven-Year Bush, trekked
\n through the jungle with Rasta guides and snuck into the isolated Jamaica
\n Hilton hotel, where we would use the facilities, order food and drink,
\n and sign fictitious room numbers,<\/p>\n
\n long drunken conversation with Keith Richards of the Rolling Stones,
\n who were in Jamaica recording their album "Goat’s Head Soup", and who had
\n rented a villa down the beach. Every afternoon he and Anita Pallenberg
\n would walk down to the Hilton Bar for liquid refreshment,<\/p>\n
\n suffice it to say that those so inclined should slight up a spliff and
\n say a little prayer for one of the guiding lights of Rastafarianism….<\/p>\n<\/td>\n<\/tr>\n<\/table>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"