Chris Chalenor was a colorist for Dark Horse comics. According to fandom.com, “he colored several comic books in Dark Horse Comics’ Aliens, Predator and Aliens vs. Predator lines” and “provided original artwork for the Batman versus Predator trading cards” (https://avp.fandom.com/wiki/Chris_Chalenor). Chalenor was born December 10, 1963 and died in 2001 at the age of 37. What I was told is that he committed suicide after having been diagnosed with terminal cancer.
I first arrived in Portland in late 2000 and I never met Chalenor. However it seems he was among the crowd who frequented Satyricon in the 80s and 90s. When I began working with David Ackerman on his Satyricon photo archive in 2006, he would sometimes point out people in the club. Chris Chalenor was in a photo from the January 6, 1989 Nirvana and Mudhoney photoset. This roll was mostly photos of Mudhoney and Nirvana, with a few photos of people in the crowd. No photos on the roll, that I can recall, of Inner Anger performing, though a photo of Courtney Love shows her posing in front of their set list. I have the sense that the band name Inner Anger is a nod to occultist filmmaker Kenneth Anger and that he was (maybe still is) a channel for financing false reports to the FBI. Satyricon had a playground funhouse feel but seems to have been a magnet for occultists.
Here is the photo of Chris Chalenor at the Mudhoney/Nirvana/Inner Anger show (no one has ever identified, to me, the women in the photo)
So I saw this photo in 2007, and David pointed out Chalenor, telling me that he’d been a comic book artist who had died young. Chalenor came to my awareness again probably around 2010 after Chris and I were together and I was trying to cobble together lost media archives from Chris’ past. One of the things I acquired was a DVD of a 1986 film (a video, actually) made by Neo Boys drummer and K Records associate Pat Baum. (I also, for what it’s worth, had a scan of flyer for the film, which described Chris’ music as “grunge.” That seems to have vanished.) Actually, it’s unclear if the video was completed in 86 or 87 – Chris was pretty certain it was released in 1986, but credits in the video say 1987. The full video which was on one of my many blown out media devices, was about 30 minutes long and contained a relatively lengthy section where Chalenor said a lot of very nice things about Chris Newman as a musician and artist.
Although I’d noticed a disturbingly high number of cancer diagnoses and deaths in Portland, it wasn’t until 2018 that I began to understand that people were literally being murdered with cancer induced by frequency weapons, including UHF frequencies from television towers, aimed at covertly placed piezo electrical biomedical implants, and also including weapons linked to the network of drones which is very obviously overhead at all times.
A question I have – having just posted these images from the Big Time music video – I remember in this Pat Baum film, Chalenor wearing an outfit similar to the one you see in the middle image, in front of the close of of television snow – but I can’t be sure because I no longer have the whole video. He wouldn’t have had a bow tie but he may have been wearing white, black, and burgundy.
Holla ‘cross from the land of the lost Behold the pale horse, off course
I want to take a look at this photo that is in the archive of Tom Robinson formerly of Concert Sound. Tom may have taken the photo or he may have acquired it from another source. The photo, I’m told, was taken in February 1986, and I have a feeling the photos been distributed and seen by a lot of people – even to the point that it’s sort of entered the occult – meaning things from the photo have been used to link to other things, including malfeasance.
What I’m posting here is most of the photo, not the whole thing.
I think this is the foyer. Satyricon was remodeled in the 1990s so this is a version of the club I myself never experienced. There’s a big Napalm beach poster or sticker on the side of whatever that structure is, then beneath it, a Sons of the Desert sticker. Above it is a Boy Wonders poster. Everyone who was in Boy Wonders has died, I think of cancer.
There’s a pay phone. Above the pay phone is lattice work, and above the lattice work are two signs, one saying Furies and one saying Tall Tales. There’s also the words “Road to Recovery” sharpied on to the wall, with an arrow pointing to the doorway (or is it to the stickers saying Furies and Tall Tales?) – Road to Recovery was a Napalm Beach song from 1985 album Teen Dream which may have been released on cassette in 1985. It was released on vinyl in 1986. Above the words “Road to Recovery” is a poster that had been drawn by Chris Newman – for Bruno’s birthday party I think. Bruno was the door man. The bands listed are Napalm Beach, Boy Wonders, Dharma Bums and a Seattle band called Untouchable Crew who would later be called U-Krew. There were a few contemporary bands with similar names – U-Men, U-Krew – maybe a reference to University of Washington? and then of course Napalm Beach’s original name was the Untouchables or you could say the Goners – they were the first. I don’t know who the guy is on the poster (?) with the sunglasses. But you can tell from this image that Napalm Beach pretty much ruled the roost. I suspect this was largely by design. It’s not that they didn’t have a lot to offer as a band but that’s not what this was about. This was about cultivating an alluring trap. If they were love-bombed at Satyricon and disdained elsewhere, Chris would learn to stay home. It’s not that they were overtly disdained elsewhere but there were lots of micro aggressions going on everywhere else – venues and other bands sending negative messages and trying to incite bad behavior. I witnessed this kind of thing again and again even after Chris and I were together. It’s disgusting, honestly, and it’s clearly top-down behavior and yes, right now I’m thinking a lot of this is Courtney Love directed and financed hostility. When Chris was sick and dying they amplified it even more, though in some cases it was disguised as “concern.”
Above the signs reading “Furies” and “Tall Tales” is what looks like some kind of art piece with charred wood and a weird face or mask.
I noticed a similarity to this face in Peter Gabriel’s “Big Time” and I had a sense that the “big words” were Nisqually Delta Podunk Nightmare, a Nirvana adjacent Olympia band that played on KAOS radio and a total of three live shows 1987-88. Slim Moon (later of Kill Rock Stars) and Dylan Carson were in the band, and they were among the first bands to play with Nirvana. This is one of a few places in the Big Time video that makes me suspect that by 1987, Kurt Cobain (then only 20 years old) was already on the chopping block, and if so, it also lends more pattern based evidence that Satyricon was involved in this plan.
Here’s another reason I think this particular photograph was studied in an occult manner. It seems like Valarie may have deliberately evoked it in her last text to me.
As I said before, as Chris was dying, he was subjected to amplified microaggressions coming from every which way. The microaggressions, by the way, never seem to abate. Just today I went out to the garden where I have a compost bin and where I’m caring for some plants and the compost was shoveled out and spread everywhere and my plants were half uprooted. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve had plants that I’m caring for uprooted, poisoned, or just stolen – and the compost disrupted, just to create problems for me. This kind of thing happens all the time – but when Chris was dying it was amplified and coming from numerous sources all at once.
This seems like it was similar to what happened to Kurt Cobain right before his death, making me think the same entities are behind it. It’s like they smell blood in the water and they all pile garbage on the sinking person to hasten their demise. And the police, FBI do fuck all if they aren’t behind some of it themselves. They sit there and watch people literally driven to their deaths and won’t even take a crime report.
In Chris’ case, the microaggressions included weird stuff with his phone – an increase in spam calls, an heavy increase in email spam, his T-Mobile voicemail switching to Spanish (this happened to him a lot, and it’s happened to me too, and it’s done remotely, on purpose – he hated it) – and all these women baiting him. This deserves its own entry, but one of the women who kept texting him was his ex-wife Valarie.
Valarie had been lying to Chris and trying to drive a wedge between him and I for some time. Chris would answer her texts politely and then delete them so as not to create conflict with me, but obviously, as he grew sicker, he couldn’t do that. Valarie sent a series of texts where she berated him for “shutting her out” as he was literally dying.
After years of not engaging with her, just before Chris died, I finally answered her back, asking how she could say she “loved” him when all she did was deceive him. She deliberately misled him and prevented him from achieving his dreams, of even making a living playing music. She led him into a hole and if he tried to find his way out, she pushed him back in. So I challenged her on all of that and she didn’t respond. Ten days later, she sent me a photo of a crow perched on a lattice work fence.
Regardless of how this is sugar coated, in truth, Valarie married Chris in order to destroy him. And I think that Courtney Love married Kurt Cobain for the exact same reason.
By the way – there are signs that indicate that this crew knew that Chris would be taken out on May 9th.
How do you suppose they would know that?
Chris was medically murdered by having his heart and breathing stopped remotely. Who made the call? And who sent out announcements ahead of time?
A pattern I’m now seeing is certain set ups referenced repeatedly in media. Why this would happen is something to consider as well. I describe this as a crime but it’s probably seen by many participants as a war for spoils.
With regards to the April 1974 pony incident (and the booby trap incident two months earlier that broke my mother’s back), I believe it was evoked by George Harrison with his references to being a “dark horse.” Also, it’s very clear that Courtney Love was strategically placed in this “war” by her parents from a very early age – her father’s last name is Harrison.
The Dark Horse song and album came out in December 1974. Harrison’s label, Dark Horse Records, had been established earlier that year.
I’m a dark horse Running on a dark race course I’m a blue moon Since I picked up my first spoon I’ve been a cool jerk Who’s looking for the source I’m a dark horse I thought that you knew it all along Until you started getting me not right Seems as if you heard a little late I warned you when we both was at the starting gate I’m a dark horse Running on a dark race course I’m a blue moon Since I stepped out of the womb I’ve been a cool jerk Who’s looking for his perks I’m a dark horse
October 2013 Katy Perry released an album called Prism. Prisms and rainbows seem to be historically linked to mind control, hypnosis, and “sleep.” The famous cover of Pink Floyd’s Dark Side of the Moon (March 1973) features an image of a triangle-shaped prism refracting white light into a rainbow.
There were several music videos associated with Prism which came out in the months following the album. This is significant, I think, because it was in September 2013 that I’d published the Introducing Napalm Beach article and it was in late January when I’d been chased down and kidnapped, and I know that incident was captured on video, probably beginning to end, and widely distributed through entertainment industry channels.
There is a lot of wanting to pretend that nothing actually happened and no one actually cared or knew anything about what was going on at that time but that’s a huge lie. Lies are what I’m trying to dissolve, and truth is what I’m trying to expose. Katy Perry and her team have always been aware of what was going on with me, and in fact she and they had a lot more information than I did. The video for Katy Perry’s Dark Horse came out February 20, 2014. The Egyptian-fantasy imagery (“Memphis, Egypt – a crazy long time ago…”) describes the structure and plans around what had happened, what was being planned, and evokes the players involved, the links to the occult (“magic”) but in a way that I found very difficult to decipher at the time. It’s dicey for a number of reasons to use media to try to decipher plans in action, even though there are usually clues being dropped.
By this point it’s clear that there is essentially a war going on within the music and entertainment industry involving a lot of deception, opportunism, and high finance – people who care not artistic legacy or artists in general, but about power, money, and control. And to this end, they’ve weaponized both crime gangs like that of Whitey Bulger and others – and the US federal government. By which I mean, this relationship between Whitey Bulger and the FBI clearly involves multiple interested and paying parties, including the recording and entertainment industry.
To this end, the way I’d grown accustomed to thinking about artist control and presentation, and about the role of historical documentation – is evolving, because all of this has been weaponized. I’m seeing a very strong pattern now of people positioned as curators, actually acting as thieves and destroyers. Why, and how, would this happen?
It seems to be part of a bigger strategy of control and finance.
It’s really tempting to believe that other people around you are motivated by the same things you’re motivated by. People who are motivated by power or money often believe that others are motivated by the same things. In my case, I am motivated by a desire to protect and uplift art and artists, and to this end, to support freedom of expression, to cultivate safe and stimulating spaces for artists to work, to respect artists’ wishes (within reason) in how they want themselves and their work to presented, to protect artists from damaging and exploitive influences. What I’ve learned is that there are people – and venues – who profess to having this as a goal, but who are actually using this kind of thing as a pretense to feather an attractive, backroom-financed trap. This is what I’m coming to realize, Satyricon was.
It doesn’t mean great art can’t come out of these places – they are venues or back drops for other things that are happening – it just means that for me, in the here and now, there’s a lot of complexity. It means that people linked to these venues and the scenes within them have misrepresented themselves to me for years, and it means they misrepresented themselves to Chris for decades.
In addition to protecting artists safety and their right to control their own work – to be seen when and how they want to be seen and private when and how they want to be private (all within reason of course) – my interest has also been in preserving history, and my assumption has been that people would like history to be preserved and accessible to future generations, that this is a good thing. That it is important to tell different sides of history, and to document and report it as accurately as possible, because this will help future generations (in this case, future generations of artists) chart their own course more safely and successfully, as well as giving homage to the generations who came before, because for an artist, artistic expression is so important. In Chris Newman’s case, his music really was everything to him. He was willing to sacrifice normal comforts and other things that people expect out of life, in order to put forth his music. I think that artists like him who work in the medium of rock and roll really want to be seen and understood in a way that strips away all the superficial B.S. that weigh a person down – social expectations, judgements, petty attitudes. Chris and I saw eye to eye on this and we assumed others involved in art and music would see things the same way, but we didn’t know, and no one told us about all these other forces, and how closely and thoroughly they’d infiltrated our world.
The result of this is that I’m now looking at a world in which it seems that various people are essentially pouring acid over history, trying to dissolve it away, so that only certain artists are left standing – and those artists seem to be in the pockets of more powerful entities. A lot of those artists are dead and basically just revenue streams.
A big part of this is achieved through curation.
I guess you could say that I’m looking at a lower layer now of the world, and it really changes the way I understand things. It is forcing me to reexamine a lot of my assumptions about people, their behavior, and their motivations.
I got a package from Germany. It was a rock magazine, it looked similar to SPIN. It was called SPEX, and inside were three one hundred dollar bills. They told me the reels of master tape Tom Robison had sent were now vinyl albums on L.S.D. – Loves Simple Dreams Records – in Berlin. The music critics voted it into the top ten albums of the year. Napalm Beach – MOVING TO AND FRO.
Wow! Henk Van Drummel had been a door man at Satyricon. He had a visa while doing the forign exchange student thing. I had signed a Teen Dream album for Henk one night at the bar. It mentioned, “I hope we get to Germany someday.” Henk and his girl Heike made that dream come true.
It was so fucking amazing. We were going to tour Europe in Novermber and half of December of 1989. We all three had been dabbling with cocaine and heroin for far too long. We knew we had to prepare for kicking our drug habits.
We had to find a new bass player. Simon (Simoncini) had left for good this time. He left on July 4th, 1989. He is still clean and sober today. I loved playing music with Simon. He was younger and very good looking. A sweet funny guy, that loved to get loaded. We shot so many speedballs. We got scared sometimes doing massive injections of cocaine. We all saw people having coke seziures. They can’t remember their own name. Cocaine was the scary part of the speedball cocktail. It overpowered the heroin at first, but it always won over after the cocaine fades away quickly. That’s part of the reason addicts keep reaching for the coke rush.
Sam and I tried a few bass players out, but they had to have the outlaw image. they had to be able to play good enough to hold down mine and Sam’s on stage onslaught of Rock! There he was, all 6’6″. Too-tall Dave Dillinger. He was pretty new in town. He was from L.A., twenty one, and he knew his music. He played a little drums, and guitar too. Bass was his forté. He had a solid simple style that suited Sam’s busy drumming style, and gave me something solid to build chord structures around. My soloing sounded fuller with solid bass support.
Sam had been getting more and more into his drugs. He was really bummed when his girlfriend Debbie left him. My girl Nancy also left that same weekend. Napalm Beach were booked to play at the Central in Seattle. We had no bass player, so Sam played bass, and this guy Dave Meyers, played drums. Sam and I were so fucked up, shooting speedballs the whole way. Dave Meyers drove his van and the equipment with his buddy Jim Micheals riding up front. Jim was new at it, and kept turning around because he was jonesin’ watching us shoot up the whole three hour ride.
Needless to say, we sucked shit. I can’t believe we called that desecration of music Napalm Beach. Seattle band guys were there, like Mark Arm of Mudhoney and Lee Conner of Screaming Trees.
Sam and I went on the stairwell after a couple of songs and shot more dope. I could not stand up with out holding on to the mic stand. How was I supposed to play guitar? My god that sucked shit!
I wrote,”She Moved Away” after that.
Sam was impossible most of the time at that point. I was hating working with him, and dreaded having to buy any dope from him.
Dave Dillinger’s first gig was a tense one. The Satyricon was packed, we went on last. Sam still is not present. We set up his drums, we are standing on stage waiting, tuning. It’s getting close to 2:00AM and they close at 2:30 in Oregon. Sam walks up and immediately starts complaing about how his drums were set up wrong. I screamed,”YOU’RE AN ASSHOLE!” He threw his beer in my face. I stood there fuming, humiliated, beer dripping down my face on to my guitar. Jan, transfixed on the side of the stage, showed his worry. “Do I have to take this?”, I pleaded. Jan nodded his head.
The crowd watched in awe as we went into a more menacing version of MONSTER than ever before. I improvised the lyrics to fit the impending doom. We made it through the set, and went our seperate ways.
This was too big to fuck up. I had one little side trip to take, before that jet airliner took us to Europe.