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To the uninitiated he is a Fool; to those who “understand” he is both Fool and wise man; the Spark that moves, the Universal power, the Cosmos made manifest.
Touched by God, He moves throughout Creation, ‘lighting’ here, sojourning there — changing everyone along the way. When He comes calling, be ready for change!
His numerical value is “0,” zip, zilch; the Beginning, the End; the Alpha and the Omega. Yet to call him Fool, a “rimless zero,” is to say he is Everything and Nothing, Nothing and Everything.
Possessing no numerical value, He surreptitiously moves throughout the ancient Tarot — appearing suddenly at critical moments when life decisions are made; sometimes in the flesh (possibly on your doorstep, in the street guise of beggar, child, old man or clown); or in those strange cards, either grinning up at you or looking off in the distance as if dreaming of a “Brave New World.” Then you are at the crossroads and must make a choice, rightly or wrongly.
He is a child, a peasant; a hobo, beggar, poor man, court jester; and since he is a “foolish man” people pay him no mind. But was it not King Lear’s Fool who told that monarch many truths about himself that no one else dare say?…
“God puts Foolish things in this world to confound the ‘wise’…”
The Fool knows no boundaries, is not constrained by the rules of society; nor does he share their pettiness and weaknesses since he has neither money nor property.
Try to avoid him is to try to avoid Destiny. He is Destiny. Your Destiny. And you might as well spit in the wind as try to escape.
The Fool seems touched by sadness, aloneness; a figure Eternally beyond the pale of the comforts enjoyed by his fellow man; it’s the irony of the sad clown: Pagliacci’s “Laugh, clown…laugh….”
Though bound in rags, you pack your bags when jester does appear, and do prepare, without a care, the changes He will bring.
So mark me well, but laugh ye not to see this Fool some day; it may redound, when Truth is found, a king did come your way….
And It Is Written... Send a prophet from your door – be he thief, fool, beggar or king, then plague and sorrow shall be your lot, from now 'til e'remore'... Anon (Circa 1391)
TABLE OF CONTENTS
The gutter; jail; bottom of the barrel.
Something about my spurious birth; forced delivery; respiratory problems; eczema; earliest memories; how Destiny maneuvered me into such an unusual profession — against my will! No father; the battle for life during the war years; sister is given up for adoption; front page news on the day of my birth, Dec. 6, 1943: “CHURCHILL, FDR, STALIN – BIG THREE MEET AT YALTA CONFERENCE – TO DISCUSS END OF WAR!”
The rooming house…left alone with prostitutes, pimps, pariahs and drunks; foster homes… where the female “caregivers” beat me for wetting the bed; the crying... the loneliness, etc....
Rats! Bats! Roaches! Growing up in abject poverty in the slums of “Olde CabbageTown,” where life in those projects – notoriously known as Regent Park – was in fact no life at all.
My earliest memories begin with the giant traveling extravaganza that is “Conklin Shows!” The shows' fortune-telling gypsy tells me, “You will rise very high in society some day…as a prophet!”
HITHER, THITHER AND YON
THE MORE-MOVING CONTINUUM
“Hey, wop! Greaseball!” Racism rears its ugly head. Ostracized at school for being “slow,” “stupid,” a condition now recognized as spatial dyslexia. I find my niche as “the class clown,” which eventually I would parlay into a full-time livelihood as an entertainer. I meet the great pantomimist Marcel Marceau, backstage at the Royal Alexandra Theater after being chosen best mime at (Mandala) Park Public School. I am mesmerized by this magnificent theater! What a contrast to Cabbagetown. And what a culture shock!
THE HUCKLEBERRY FINN SYNDROME
Life on Toronto Islands during the 1950’s; watching from the boardwalk as Marilyn Bell – the first and youngest swimmer ever to cross Lake Ontario – strokes her way to glory: I go out to meet her in my old dilapidated row boat (no cars, only pieces of wood) to greet her – and sink! We survive Hurricane Hazel!
THE ELEVENTH HOUR CHILD
I fail 8th grade, am told I will not graduate with the class, then informed that I won the city-wide (Women’s Auxiliary) Board of Education essay contest (which was compulsory for all grade eights); principal forced to apologize in front of entire student body and faculty members (for failing me), as two Board members present me with set of high school books; how I got locked in an underground crypt (for Bishops) — with a ghost! — in St. James’ Cemetery.
“The strongest man in the world” (pound-for-pound) takes me under his wing, saves me from the street.
I win coveted bodybuilding titles of Mr. Canada, Mr. Ontario, Mr. Toronto, Mr. Hercules, Mr. Wasaga Beach — plus become the hit of the school variety show as “circus strong man”; my head becomes swelled and gets knocked off its block by a scrawny Golden Gloves champion; once again, I eat humble pie — not to mention mother earth. At seventeen, I discover the shocking truth about my birth — and nationality… “You mean I really am a wop!!!” — then drop out of school, totally confused, but suddenly developing a ‘craving for spaghetti’!
LOUNGE LIZARDS: BOOZE, BROADS AND BOORS
John F. Kennedy is assassinated November 22, 1963, the day I take my first sax lesson and begin my musical career while working for the United Appeal (where I meet legendary comedian Bob Hope); demonstrating bodybuilding and weightlifting atop the CHUM radio station booth at the CNE (Canadian National Exhibition, inside the “Princes’ Gates”), along with comedians “Larry and Garry” (Larry Solway and Gary Ferrier).
SHALL WE DANCE?
The great Cab Calloway (the “Hi-dee-hi-dee-hi-dee-ho” man), then touring with the incredible Harlem Globetrotters suddenly yanks me from my Maple Leaf Garden's seat. He forces me to do the twist with him (“The Twist?” – Boy, am I ever dating myself!); the crowd gives me a standing ovation. (Coincidentally, I had just recently won a twist contest); I bow... show business! – I’m hooked!!
I spend several years in a “gay/lesbian” band (indeed, a book in itself). Flying down the highway in the dead of night from Kapuskasing in Northern Ontario with the eighteen-year-old woman I had just “kidnapped” (actually, it didn’t take much coaxing — we were so hot for each other they had to throw cold water on us); followed in hot pursuit by her five crazy French brothers and ex-boyfriend (a former Ontario wrestling champion!).
THE LOST YEARS
Drunken orgies…booze, drugs, fights, etc. Nick Drury, my bass player — and I mean “base” — who is the personification of The Bad Seed; David Clayton Thomas (front singer for Blood, Sweat & Tears), “Rompin’” Ronnie Hawkins and life on Yonge Street at The Hawk’s Nest, The Brown Derby Tavern (“Joe King and the Zaniaks”), the Colonial, the Zanzibar, the Town and the Le Coq’dor Taverns…. Ford Hotel (across from Bus Terminal at Bay Street).
A CASE OF PREMONITION
An eerie tale of clairvoyance that saves a young woman’s life — in the nick of time!
THE SLIPPERY SLOPE
Disastrous marriage; death of a child; divorce; dissolution of band; 24-then 48-hour drinking binges; Montreal (Queen Elizabeth Hilton), Churchill Falls, Goose Bay, Labrador — a near plane crash; nervous breakdown; trying to get back home, destitute, during one of the worst snow storms of the century — Christmas, 1973; hitting the first of several spiraling levels of bottom, in a long series of nervous breakdowns.... I'm so low, I have to jump up just to reach bottom!
I meet Paul “The Rimmer” Rimstead… a big-hearted, eccentric, two-fisted-drinking, Toronto Sun columnist; he saves me from myself by setting me on the road to an exciting new career as: “Anthony Carr, The World’s Most Documented Psychic!” which ultimately carries me to the very pinnacle of success as, according to Phil Donahue, “...the darling of the talk show circuit.”
THE ADOPTION TRIANGLE
Reunited with my sister — after 30 years!
TORONTO SUN YEARS
I write a syndicated palmistry column, “Hands of Destiny”…but first have to go back to school, since my command of basic grammar is at the primary level.
TELEVISION: LOOKING GREAT, SOUNDING MORONIC
I am introduced to television through a meeting with Allen Spraggett, godfather of modern-day parapsychology and author of fourteen books on the subject; “LIGHTS! CAMERA! ACTION!”…I am petrified! Frozen with fear — I numbly nod my head in assent to all of his questions. (Thank God Spraggett has verbal diarrhea! – I didn't have to say a word.)
The arduous task of learning stuff I should have learned back in grade school…. AGONIZING! is the only word for it. I turn down an offer from ‘Simon and Shuster’ of Canada to do a palmistry book because I insist on doing my own writing; the editor presses and gets fired for exceeding his budget trying to convince me to change my mind; we go on a three day drunk!
DRINKING & WRITING
Menage-a-drunks!…. Haunted Bed! — 1,2,3; “Curse of the Haunted Bed!” Ghost-writing for Spraggett…Countess D’Salega (direct descendent of Vlad The Impaler — Dracula!)
BEN E. KING
Meeting with legendary R & B singer/composer Ben E. King (of “Stand By Me” fame), who hires me to play in his band; after he suffers a long slump, I predict his meteoric rise and return to world prominence, many years in the future.
I become involved in several murder investigations — including those of Beaches area lawyer, Barbara Schliefer; Jenny Isford (Argo Sunshine Girl); B. Hanson (co-ed student in Barrie, Ontario); and rapist and child murderer, Paul Bernardo (whose handprints I possess). “Ghoul Friends”: I visit morgues in Toronto, New York and Los Angeles to obtain hand-impressions of several murder victims in an attempt to investigate the connection, if any, between violent death and the length of the life-line.
ROYALTY (INCLUDING CROWN HEADS, POLITICAL AND CRIMINAL)
I meet, read for, and get “royally” blasted with “Lady Iris” Mountbatten (cousin to Queen Elizabeth II); I am introduced to Count Alex von Svoboda, the world’s most prominent sculptor/artist/architect, who used to personally visit and design medallions for Pope John Paul II and who designed the great Toronto cathedral for mining czar Steven Roman in commemoration of the Pope’s visit to Toronto. (I used to refer to Steven Roman’s occasional business failures as “The Fall of the Roman Empire”…. And, why were you slobbering all over the Pope’s ring?” I once asked him.)
I tell Roman — to his face — that he will die in his 63rd year. (He is pissed off.) I tell von Svoboda that some day he will come face-to-face with the Pope; prophecy is fulfilled several years later when he is commissioned to design two new Vatican coins for His Holiness! My very private interview with Maggie (Margaret) Trudeau, former ‘off-the-wall’ wife of one-time Canadian Prime Minister, Pierre Elliot Trudeau. I read the palms of Queen Juliana of the Netherlands. I predict the coming state of “impoverished gentility” for Baroness von Vittorach. I am compromised by Countessa d’Salaga, descendant of Count Vladimar (“Vlad The Impaler” — Dracula!) who amazes me with her psychic prowess and artistic gifts…. A great lady, indeed!
FACE-TO-FACE WITH THE BEAST!
I come head-to-head with Mikhail Gorbachev — and accuse the most powerful man in Russia of displaying The Mark of the Beast on his forehead, which is mentioned in the book of Revelation (plenty of photographs of us together, since it was carried on international television).
SPY VS. SPY
CSIS (Canadian Security Intelligence System), Canada’s version of the FBI, investigates me after the “Gorbachev incident” because of my blood relationship (second cousin) to the notorious 1960’s “Russian” spy, Gordon Arnold Lonsdale (a.k.a. Colonel Konon Molody of the KGB), about whom several books, plays, and movies were penned — including an autobiography, Spy. It is alleged that author Ian Fleming modeled his famous James Bond character after him. CSIS insists he was a Russian-born exported mole, but I prove he was born in Cobalt, Ontario, Canada in 1924, as was my mother, his first cousin.
A GANGSTER STORY – “THE MOB”
The notorious Volpe, Popalia (‘Johnny Pops’), Maggadino, and Pasquale ‘Crime’ families. I predict the violent deaths of Paul Volpe, Roy Pasquale, and Johnny “pops” Papalia — to their faces!
New York: A tête-à-tête with former world middle-weight champion, Jake “The
Raging Bull” Lamotta; I read his palm the hard way — fist first!
Legendary silent screen icon, Lillian Gish takes me to tea, and on a memorable tour of filmdom through her Hollywood family album. As she turns the pages, each photo evokes bitter-sweet memories for her; a tear betrays long-forgotten emotions, and she becomes lost in her reveries, slipping further into the past — even forgetting that I’m sitting there, until the doorbell of her Manhattan apartment rings and abruptly returns her to the present.
Toronto: Royal York Hotel.... International Swedish actress, Liv Ullman, dismisses entire media camp — including Time magazine, much to its chagrin — from her suites atop the Royal York, to ensure a private reading from me.
Stars! — Stars! — and more stars!! As the new kid in town, I am feted like a king! I read the hands of George Raft, James (“you dirty rat”) Cagney, Johnny Weismuller (the original Tarzan), singer Al Jareau (“Baby…we gonna’ make it...this time…”) Jack Klugman (“The Odd Couple”), Vic Damone, Peggy Lee, Jane Powell, Jane Russell, Tom Cruise, Arnold Schwarzenegger, Eddie Murphy, Sylvester Stallone, Barbara Streisand, Keanu Reeves, Michelle Pfeiffer, Michael Douglas, Cuba Gooding Jr., Whitney Houston, Goldie Hawn, Debbie Reynolds, Larry Fishbourne (“Hoodlum”), Harrison Ford, Liona Boyd (first lady of the classical guitar) — and on and on.
I meet Jacqueline (Jackie) Stallone, famed astrologer and mother of super-star movie actor, Sylvester Stallone. She and I hit it off professionally and do many television shows together. She tells me the truth about Stallone’s father who to say the least — was “different!”
LA CREME DE LA CREME OF SPECTACULAR SHOWS
How the incredible production of “Wonders of the Unexplained” came about: a two-hour world television premier extravaganza, hosted by “ghoul guru”, Vincent Price, and featuring this planet’s most acclaimed psychics and spiritualists (including me!) and was simultaneously broadcasting from Scotland (MacBeth’s castle), the Chicago Police Department, Los Angeles, New York City and Toronto — quite an undertaking, indeed!
THE DSYLECTIC PSYCHIC
How I appeared on the internationally syndicated Shirley Show and predicted, “There will not be a devastating Los Angeles earthquake this year,” on the very day it did occur! Gary Dunford, the Toronto Sun, writes: “It’s the most accurate prediction he never made!; even as the streets of Los Angeles were rocking and rolling, there he was, his little face peering out from their TV screens assuring them that this was not happening!!” Geraldo said to me, “Either you are the most accurate psychic in the world — albeit slightly dyslectic — or the world’s worst!”
Oh well…you can’t win ‘em all!
And his Book of Palms!
Over 50 years of palm prints – including the crowned heads of both Europe and Hollywood, comedians, cadavers, gangsters, politicians and world characters of various stripes. Plus, a step-by-step "how to read hands" volume. This is the most comprehensive book of not only this century – but of the millennium! The anecdotes of how Anthony came by the handprints of all these characters out-runyons Damon Runyon himself!
Carr who is a close relative of Lonsdale traces the sad but amazing story of the Canadian born Russian spy who, during the Cold War, became a major part of the British Portland Scandal.
We follow Anthony's quest in search of the reality behind Konan Molody – the Russian namesake of Lonsdale. This book is a must read for espionage fans.
The world of international intrigue as seen by the world famous psychic Anthony Carr.