This villa was built by a wealthy businessman, who came from a poor family but became wealthy with his hardware store. It was built in the early 1920's but the once so succesful businessman went bankrupt when he only lived there five years. The villa was sold and became a children's home where sick children were treated for 4 weeks using so called "Sun-Climate Treatment". It housed about 80 children. In the early 1930's there was a big fire and this was the end of the children's home.

But, the villa got rebuilt and was turned into a recovery home for mothers where the upper floor was used to nurse up to 120 newborn children. During World War II it was used to treat soldiers who came back from the front, and at the end of the war it again changed destination and became a school for young boys, who got lessons in agriculture and cultivation. Also this ended in the end of the 1950's and it became a resthome for the elderly. It housed between 50 and 85 people and had a very bad reputation. Story goes that people did not get meals every day. On average 8 to 10 people died every year, and not only because of old age. In 1970 the manager was convicted for tormenting and abuse of the inhabitants. Beacuse of this, the resthome could not find any new personnel or clients, and the place was closed. After a roaring history, the villa found it's rest and was left abandoned for life...

 

Please visit www.preciousdecay.com for more pictures

Reputation Stadium Tour - Soldier Field 6/2/18

Montgomery had a well earned reputation for caution. He preferred to take on the enemy only once he had superiority in numbers and fire power and a carefully engineered plan in place.

However in 1944 he decided upon a bold stroke to enter Germany through Belgium and Holland, seize important river crossings over the Meuse and the Rhine and eventually encircle the Ruhr industrial area so vital to the German war effort.

The airborne forces would take part in Operation Market while the British 30 Corps would follow up in Operation Garden. The Operation was a spectacular military failure and German reprisals against Dutch civilians who assisted the Allies led to twenty thousand Dutch deaths from starvation during the winter of 1944-45.

The first casualties of Market Garden died when Horsa Glider RJ113 (Chalk 389) containing 21 men from No 1 Platoon 9th (Airborne) Field Company Royal Engineers crashed into Double Hills Meadow just outside the village of Paulton in North East Somerset.

The glider fell apart following an explosion on board and broke it's towline. The events were witnessed by the rear gunner of the Short Stirling which had been towing the glider. All those aboard were killed and a villager who had been picking blackberries in the field suffered minor injuries when hit by debris.

The bodies of the soldiers were buried at Milton Road in Weston Super Mare and a memorial was raised in their memory in 1979.

The photograph is of the most recent detail to be added to the memorial. Originally a simple stone carrying the names of the dead it is now flanked by two bronze statues and topped by Pegasus, the emblem of the Parachute Regiment.

“Inspiring women to be financially independent”

 

Shaku Atre is an exceptional speaker, with the reputation of capturing the attention of audiences and maintaining their interest while guiding her listeners painlessly through sophisticated material. Ms. Atre is the President of Atre Group Inc. which is a leading consulting, training, and publishing company specializing in Business Intelligence (BI), Data Warehouses and Big Data.

 

Before heading her present company, Ms. Atre was a Partner with Price Waterhouse Coopers. She also has fourteen years of experience in various fields with IBM. Ms. Atre completed Masters of Science, Suma cum Laude, in Statistics, University of Poona, India; Scholarship to University of Heidelberg, Germany, Applied Mathematics, Thesis on Astronomy. She is an acknowledged expert in the Data Warehousing and database field.

 

She has extensive practical experience in database projects, has helped a number of clients in establishing successful Data Warehouses and client/server installations, and has taught at IBM’s prestigious Systems Research Institute.

 

She has lectured on the subject to professional organizations in the USA and Canada, as well as in more than 35 countries around the world. Ms. Atre is frequently quoted in reputable publications such as Computerworld and Information Week. She has written an award-winning outstanding book on database management systems that has become a classic on the subject: Database: Structured Techniques for Design, Performance and Management, published by John Wiley and Sons, New York. The book has sold over 250,000 copies (not including its Spanish and Russian translations) and has been selected by several book clubs and leading universities including Harvard, Columbia, Cornell, MIT, New York University, Stanford, and U.C. Berkeley as well as by the Moscow University. Her book Information Center: Strategies and Case Studies published by Atre International Consultants Inc., has also been very well received by the industry. Database Management Systems is another successful book authored by Ms. Atre. Her fourth book, Distributed Databases, Cooperative Processing & Networking was published by McGraw-Hill.

 

She has also authored a very well received book: Atre’s Roadmap for Data Warehouse/Data Mart Implementations published by Gartner Group, and is co-author of her latest BI book Business Intelligence Roadmap: The Complete Project Lifecycle for Decision-Support Applications published by Addison Wesley.

Schweiz / Wallis - Nordend (4.608 m) und Dufourspitze (4.634)

 

seen from Hotel Du Trift

 

gesehen Berggasthaus Trift

 

Nordend (meaning north end in German) is a northern peak of the Monte Rosa Massif. Nordend is the fourth highest peak of the massif, after the Dufourspitze (4,634 m), the Dunantspitze (4,632 m) and the Grenzgipfel (4,618 m).

 

(Wikipedia)

 

The Dufourspitze is the highest peak of Monte Rosa, an ice-covered mountain massif in the Alps. Dufourspitze is the highest mountain of both Switzerland and the Pennine Alps and is also the second-highest mountain of the Alps and Western Europe, after Mont Blanc. It is located between Switzerland (Canton of Valais) and Italy (Piedmont and Aosta Valley). The peak itself is located wholly in Switzerland.

 

Following a long series of attempts beginning in the early nineteenth century, Monte Rosa's summit, then still called Höchste Spitze (English: Highest Peak), was first reached on 1 August, the Swiss National celebration day, in 1855 from Zermatt by a party of eight climbers led by three guides: Matthäus and Johannes Zumtaugwald, Ulrich Lauener, Christopher and James Smyth, Charles Hudson, John Birkbeck and Edward Stephenson.

 

Naming

 

The peak is distinguished by the name Dufourspitze (in German, lit. Dufour Peak; French: Pointe Dufour, Italian: Punta Dufour). This replaced the former name Höchste Spitze (English: Highest Peak) that was indicated on the Swiss maps before the Federal Council, on January 28, 1863, decided to rename the mountain in honor of Guillaume-Henri Dufour. Dufour was a Swiss engineer, topographer, co-founder of the Red Cross and army general who led the Sonderbund campaign. This decision followed the completion of the Dufour Map, a series of military topographical maps created under the command of Dufour.

 

The point just 80 m (260 ft) east of the Dufourspitze and only 2 metres lower, the Dunantspitze, was renamed in 2014 in honor of Henry Dunant, the main founder of the Red Cross.

 

Elevation

 

The Dufourspitze of Monte Rosa is the most elevated point of Valais and Switzerland, although it is not the most prominent of the country, that distinction belonging to the Finsteraarhorn, nor the most isolated, that distinction belonging to Piz Bernina. The Swiss national map gives an elevation of 4,634.0 metres (15,203.4 ft) for the summit, which is 4,441 metres above Lake Maggiore, Switzerland's lowest point. The height difference between the summit and the plains of northern Italy, from where Monte Rosa is well visible, reaches over 4,500 metres (15,000 ft). Monte Rosa has a topographic prominence of 2,165 m (7,103 ft), the Great St Bernard Pass being the lowest col between it and the culminating point of the Alps. A 2000 survey, involving universities and the offices of cartography of Italy and Switzerland and part of the TOWER project (Top of the World Elevations Remeasurement), was made in order to record a more precise elevation for Monte Rosa. The result was 4,635.25 metres (15,207.5 ft) from the Italian side and 4,634.97 metres (15,206.6 ft) from the Swiss side, with a margin of error of 0.1 m. Monte Rosa succeeded the Finsteraarhorn as the highest summit of Switzerland in 1815, when Valais joined the Swiss Confederation.

 

Though the Mediterranean can hardly be visible from the summit of Monte Rosa because of intervening mountains, the view to the south extends to the Apennines, the mountains of Corsica and the Maritime Alps. On the north side the view extends to the Jura and further to the Vosges, the Swiss Plateau being mostly hidden by the high range of the Bernese Alps.

 

History

 

Monte Rosa could be seen from many places on the south side of the Alps and it had been mentioned in many travel diaries. At the end of the 15th century some outlines of the mountain may possibly have been painted by Leonardo da Vinci into the background of the Madonna of the Rocks or other pictures. Da Vinci explored the Italian side of the mountain and made some observations, though there is but scanty evidence that he had climbed even a minor summit in the neighbourhood. He was intrigued by the permanent snow lying on the mountain and the darkness of the sky above him, he wrote:

 

"The base of this mountain gives birth to the 4 rivers which flow in four different directions through the whole of Europe. And no mountain has its base at so great a height as this, which lifts itself above almost all the clouds; and snow seldom falls there, but only hail in the summer, when the clouds are highest. And this hail lies [unmelted] there, so that if it were not for the absorption of the rising and falling clouds, which does not happen more than twice in an age, an enormous mass of ice would be piled up there by the layers of hail, and in the middle of July I found it very considerable; and I saw the sky above me quite dark, and the sun as it fell on the mountain was far brighter here than in the plains below, because a smaller extent of atmosphere lay between the summit of the mountain and the sun."

 

At the end of the eighteenth century, the people of the Italian valleys believed that a lost valley existed, hidden away between the glaciers of the great chain. The discovery of the valley was due to Joseph Beck of Gressoney-Saint-Jean. He put together a party, including his brother Valentin, and the Gressoney mountain guides Sebastian Linty, Joseph Zumstein, Nicolas (Niklaus) Vincent, François Castel and Étienne Lisco. They set out on a Sunday of August 1778. They started from their sleeping places at midnight, and roped carefully. They had furnished themselves with climbing irons and alpenstocks. At the head of the glacier, they encountered a slope of rock devoid of snow, which they climbed.[10]

 

"It was twelve o'clock. Hardly had we got to the summit of the rock than we saw a grand-an amazing-spectacle. We sat down to contemplate at our leisure the lost valley, which seemed to us to be entirely covered with glaciers. We examined it carefully, but could not satisfy ourselves that it was the unknown valley, seeing that none of us had ever been in the Vallais."

The valley, in fact, was none other than the upper valley of Zermatt, and the pass, which these early explorers had reached, was the Lysjoch, where, to this day, the rock on which they rested bears the name that they gave it, the "Entdeckungsfels" (German: Rock of Discovery). Beck's party thus reached a height of 4,178 metres (13,707 ft), probably a record in the Alps at that times.

 

Count Morozzo of Turin was inspired by the view of Monte Rosa and in 1787 he tried to reach its summit from the east face. However he did not go very high, and the mountain looked much too inaccessible to encourage him to proceed further. He reached the place of the actual Marinelli hut, 1,500 m below the summit. The route on the east face was opened only in 1872. In 1789, following the recommendation of the Count, Horace-Bénédict de Saussure went to Macugnaga to explore the mountain. He climbed Pizzo Bianco, a 3215 m summit facing the mountain from the east and measured the altitude of Monte Rosa. He found a height of 2430 toises.

 

A first serious attempt was made in 1801 by a doctor of Alagna, Pietro Giordani. He reached alone a great height when climbing a 4,046 metres high point on the south-east ridge of the Vincent Pyramid, later named Giordanispétz or Punta Giordani in his honour. He arrived too late to proceed to the Vincent Pyramid summit and night drove him away. He had to sleep in a cleft of ice at about 14,000 feet. He wrote an account of his exploit: After an eloquent description of the view, he expresses his annoyance at the lack of scientific instruments, and the lateness of the hour which prevented him from ascending "Monte Rosa" itself.

 

The 4215 m Vincent Pyramid summit was eventually successfully climbed on 15 August 1819 by Johann Niklaus and Joseph Vincent from Gressoney, after whom the peak has been named. The brothers Vincent tried to reach the highest summit again the next year, together with Joseph Zumstein, and guides and porters. On August 1, 1820, they reached a 4,563 metres high secondary summit, later named Zumsteinspitze. The climb was dangerous, as the party had to traverse under threatening walls of ice; they also had great difficulties on descent, because the afternoon sun had melted the snow on the slopes. They used mules to carry their equipment as far as the snow-line. During the expedition they thought they had climbed the true highest peak, but when they reached the summit they found out it was only a subpeak of Monte Rosa. Zumstein was anxious to return later and reach the highest summit, but his desire did not materialize.

 

First ascents

 

The first approaches to the summit were made from the northern slopes over the Gorner glacier via the Silbersattel (4,510 m). This pass was first reached on August 12, 1847, by Matthias and Johann zum Taugwald (guides from Zermatt whose name is also written "Zumtaugwald"), Johann Brantschen and Joseph Moser guiding the French professors Victor Puisieux and Edouard Ordinaire.[ Precisely a year later (12 August 1848), Johann Madutz from Matt, Glarus, and Matthias Zumtaugwald guided the Swiss theologian de:Melchior Ulrich to the pass for an ascent of the highest summit. Ulrich had to give up, but the guides proceeded to climb to what they thought to be the Eastern summit of the Dufourspitze (Ostspitze, since 2014 Dunantspitze, 4632 m) and established a new altitude record in Switzerland. The descent over the same route was so tricky that Madutz at places had to lower down Zum Taugwald by rope. Three years later, on 22 August 1851, Johann Zumtaugwald returned, with Peter Taugwalder and Peter Inderbinen and the Swiss botanist brothers Adolf and Hermann Schlagintweit to repeat this ascent. They did not dare to traverse to the western summit, which the Schlagintweits estimated to be 7 meters higher. In 1891, W.A.B. Coolidge analyzed these ascents and concluded that both parties had reached the 4,618 m Grenzgipfel instead, which is a mere 50 meters to the east of Ostspitze. He transferred the honor of first climbing the Ostgipfel to Ulrich Lauener from Lauterbrunnen and the brothers Christopher, Edmund and James G. Smyth from Great Yarmouth, who reached the Ostspitze on September 1, 1854, from the Silbersattel. Some sources have the Zumtaugwald brothers also among this party. Zumtaugwald brothers returned twice more to the East summit, Johann and Matthias 10 days later (11 Sep 1854) with Edward Shirley Kennedy and Benedict Leir, and Matthias and Stephan later again with Edward Levi Ames. On these five occasions they never tried the difficult traverse to the western summit, also because the summits were both mapped as 4,638 m high at the time. Partially with the technical difficulty (UIAA III) of the route from Silbersattel in mind, many consider the Madutz and Zumtaugwald ascent in 1849 the true first ascent of Monta Rosa.

 

The first ascent of the western summit finally took place on August 1, 1855, by the above guides Matthias and Johann zum Taugwald and Ulrich Lauener and two of the Smyth brothers (James Greenville and Christopher). They were joined by the English gentlemen John Birkbeck, Charles Hudson and Edward Stephenson. Deeming the approach from the east summit unfeasible, the guides devised a route over the junction of the Monte Rosa and Grenz glaciers and over the west ridge directly to the west summit. Not two weeks later, on 13 August 1855, Johann and his brother Peter zum Taugwald guided eight more people, including Johann Jakob Weilenmann, to the summit over the same route.[ The west ridge route immediately became very popular and is still the normal route to the Dufourspitze.

 

The Irish physicist John Tyndall was guided to the summit in a group led by Ulrich Lauener in August 1858, but returned the next day (or week?) to make the first solo ascent of Dufourspitze on 17 August 1858, which he described in his account, Glaciers of the Alps.

 

"After breakfast I poured what remained of my tea into a small glass bottle, an ordinary demi-bouteille in fact; the waiter then provided me with a ham sandwich, and, with my scrip thus frugally furnished, I thought the heights of Monte Rosa might be won..."

After encountering a party of climbers guided by Lauener, Tyndall reached alone the summit:

 

"A world of clouds and mountains lay beneath me. Switzerland, with its pomp of summits, was clear and grand; Italy was also grand, but more than half obscured. Dark cumulus and dark crag vied in savagery, while at other places white snows and white clouds held equal rivalry. The scooped valleys of Monte Rosa itself were magnificent, all gleaming in the bright sunlight — tossed and torn at intervals, and sending from their rents and walls the magical blue of the ice."

 

Among mountain guides, the eastern wall had the reputation of being unconquerable. Ferdinand Imseng was convinced that the long snow couloir in the middle of the face could be ascended. He succeeded in convincing other climbers and, on 22 July 1872, Richard Pendlebury, William and Charles Taylor, Ferdinand Imseng, Gabriel Spechtenhauser and Giovanni Oberto began the ascent from Macugnaga. They were aware of the objective dangers of the wall but they decided to go as high as possible, without compromising their lives. After a bivouac on the actual Marinelli hut emplacement, they headed towards the Grenzsattel. Suddenly, when they arrived near the Grenzsattel, an avalanche started and rivers of snow began to flow everywhere around the climbers. They were able to reach the safe rocks of the Grenzgipfel just in time to save their lives. They finally reached the summit and descended to Riffelalp on the other side, concluding an 18-hour journey.

 

This ascent made Ferdinand Imseng a famous mountain guide. He lost his life in 1881 on the east wall during the third ascent with Damiano Marinelli and guide Battista Pedranzini. On 8 August, they were caught by an avalanche and brought 1,200 metres down. The accident was reported by a porter who survived. The couloir was then named Canalone Marinelli.

 

Other ascents

 

In 1889 Achille Ratti, who became later Pope Pius XI, made the first traverse from Macugnaga to Zermatt by the Zumsteinjoch. After climbing the Dufourspitze, he spent the night on the summit with his companions.

 

Visiting Zermatt in 1894, the young Winston Churchill insisted on an ascent of Monte Rosa rather than of the Matterhorn, not only because of its superior height but also because the guides' fee was substantially less.

 

More recently, on August 1 (which happens to be the Swiss National Day), 2005, the Swiss Minister of Treasure Joseph Deiss climbed the Dufourspitze. The expedition marked the 150th anniversary of the first ascent.

 

Huts and climbing routes

 

The Monte Rosa Hut (2,883 m) is the only mountain hut in the massif owned by the Swiss Alpine Club. It is situated on the Plattje, a rocky island between the Gorner and Grenz glaciers. It is accessible from Rotenboden, a station on the Gornergratbahn line. The hut was inaugurated in 1894 and rebuilt in 1940. In 2009, a new high technology mountain hut was inaugurated. The five-story crystal-shaped building is designed to obtain 90 per cent of its power needs from the sun and will be used as a research station.

 

The other huts are owned by the Italian Alpine Club, among them the Regina Margherita Hut located at 4,559 metres on the Signalkuppe. Inaugurated in 1893 and replaced in 1979, it is still the highest construction in Europe, and includes a laboratory and observatory.

 

Other huts owned by the Italian Alpine Club are the Marinelli Hut (3,036 m), used for the ascent of the east face, and the Bivacco Città di Gallarate (3,960 m), located near the summit of the Jägerhorn.

 

Normal route

 

The normal route to the summit begins at the Monte Rosa Hut. The normal route is mainly a glacier itinerary on the west slopes of Monte Rosa (Monte Rosa Glacier), with the final rocky west ridge to the summit. Although the itinerary itself is not difficult, it requires physical endurance and good acclimatization.

 

Marinelli couloir

 

The route starts from the Marinelli Hut and follows the steep Marinelli couloir on the east face. It is a long and dangerous route and has to be ascended very early in the morning on cold days in order to decrease the risk of avalanches.

 

Timeline

 

First ascent in 1855 (normal route).

 

First ascent on the eastern wall, via the Marinelli Couloir in 1872 (July 22) by Taylor, Pendlebury and Ferdinand Imseng (guide)

 

First ascent via the southern spur (Cresta Rey) by Eustace Hulton with guides Joseph Moser and Peter Rubi on 20 August 1874.

 

First ascent via the southeast ridge (today route from Margherita hut) by F. P. Barlow, G. W. Prothero with guides Antonio Carrel and Peter Taugwalder on 31 August 1874.

 

First winter ascent via the southern spur (Cresta Rey) by Vittorio Sella with guides Daniel Maquignaz and Joseph Maquignaz on 26 January 1884.

 

First winter ascent via the southeast ridge by Mario Piacenza, A. Curta, A. Lazier, O. Lazier on 18 January 1907.

 

First solo ascent of the east face by Angelo Taveggia in 1924.

 

First winter ascent of the east face in 1965 (February 5–6) by mountain guides Luciano Bettineschi, Felice Jacchini, Michele Pala and Lino Pironi.

 

In June 1969, the extreme skier Sylvain Saudan descended the entire Marinelli Couloir on the east face.

First solo winter ascent via the east face on February 4, 1991, by Walter Bernardi. Injured, he was rescued by helicopter on the descent near the Grenzsattel.

 

(Wikipedia)

 

Das Nordend ist ein 4608 m ü. M. hoher Nebengipfel der Dufourspitze im Massiv des Monte Rosa und liegt auf der Grenze zwischen Italien und der Schweiz. Es wurde erstmals am 26. August 1861 bestiegen. Das Nordend wird meistens von Zermatt her bzw. von der Station Rotenboden der Gornergratbahn aus über die Monte-Rosa-Hütte angegangen. Der Normalweg führt vom Silbersattel (4519 m ü. M.) über den Südgrat zum Gipfel.

 

(Wikipedia)

 

Die Dufourspitze (italienisch Punta Dufour, französisch Pointe Dufour, rätoromanisch Piz da Dufour) ist mit 4634 m ü. M. der höchste Gipfel in den Walliser Alpen und der Schweiz sowie des gesamten deutschen Sprachraums. Nach dem Mont Blanc mit 4805,59 m ü. M. ist der Monte Rosa mit der Dufourspitze als höchstem Gipfel der zweithöchste Berg der Alpen und Westeuropas.

 

Lage

 

Der Berggipfel gehört zum Monte-Rosa-Massiv auf der Grenze zu Italien. Die Bergspitze liegt rund 160 m von der Staatsgrenze entfernt auf Schweizer Gebiet. Das gesamte Bergmassiv wird üblicherweise als italienisch-schweizerischer Grenzberg angesehen, sodass die Rolle des höchsten Berges, der ganz auf Schweizer Gebiet liegt, dem Dom (ebenfalls in den Walliser Alpen) zukommt.

 

Geschichte

 

Namensgebung

 

Die Dufourspitze erhielt ihren heutigen Namen im Jahre 1863 auf Beschluss des Schweizerischen Bundesrates. Die Umbenennung erfolgte zu Ehren des Schweizer Generals und Kartografen Guillaume Henri Dufour (1787–1875). Er war Herausgeber des ersten exakten Landkartenwerkes der Schweiz, der nach ihm benannten Dufourkarte.

 

Auf der Dufourkarte wurde sie 1862 als Höchste Spitze bezeichnet.

 

In der Schweiz hiess dieser Gipfel ursprünglich Gornerhorn (= starker oder grosser Berg). In der Literatur wird vertreten, dass teilweise auch die Auffassung bestanden habe, dass der Name Gornerhorn das gesamte Bergmassiv bezeichnet habe. Gegen diese These wurde aber eingewandt, dass «ein ganzer ausgedehnter Gebirgsstock kaum als einfaches Horn bezeichnet worden» wäre. Der Name Gornerhorn stammt von den Walsern. Auch der Name Schwärzehorn war vormals geläufig.

 

In Italien wurde der Gipfel La più alta cima (= Hohe Spitze oder Hochspitz) und auch Rosa Bianca genannt.

 

Besteigung

 

Die Erstbesteigung fand am 1. August 1855 durch eine von Charles Hudson geleitete Seilschaft statt. Weitere Teilnehmer der Seilschaft waren John Birkbeck, Edward J. W. Stephenson und die Brüder Christopher und James G. Smyth. Die Bergführer Johannes und Matthäus Zumtaugwald aus Zermatt und Ulrich Lauener aus Lauterbrunnen bahnten den Engländern den Weg. Charles Hudson stürzte zehn Jahre später bei der Erstbesteigung des Matterhorns während des Abstiegs zu Tode. Die zweite Besteigung fand ebenfalls noch im Jahr 1855 statt.

 

Routen

 

Die klassische Route über die Ostflanke wurde erstmals 1872 von den Engländern Richard und William Pendlebury und Charles Taylor, dem Schweizer Ferdinand Imseng, dem Österreicher Gabriel Spechtenhauser und dem Italiener Giovanni Oberto begangen.

 

Ausgangspunkt für eine Besteigung der Dufourspitze von der Schweizer Seite über den Normalweg ist die Monte-Rosa-Hütte (2883 m ü. M.).

 

(Wikipedia)

The city of Turin, known for its reputation as a magical city and for being a crossroads of the two flows of white magic and black magic, hosts various sculptures and places that are linked to this esoteric tradition. Among these there is certainly the Angelica Fountain of Turin which is located in Piazza Solferino, not far from the monument dedicated to Ferdinand I of Savoy.

 

It was Minister Bajnotti who wanted its construction, as he left written in his will, to dedicate the fountain to the memory of his parents. Before his death, in fact, he had ordered that the fountain, which should have been called Angelica, be built in Piazza San Giovanni and for this purpose he left the city of Turin 150,000 lire for the construction of the monument.

 

However, the sculptor Giovanni Riva, in charge of the project, deemed it appropriate to move the fountain to Piazza Solferino, where the inauguration took place on October 28, 1929. In addition to its beauty, the Angelic Fountain is known for its alleged esoteric symbolism, of Massonic inspiration.

 

The four sculptural figures depicted on the fountain are inspired by the four seasons. Two of the statues portray the female figures of Spring and Summer and represent the most sacred and the most profane aspect of love, namely virtue and vice. At the same time, the two figures are also an expression of the two different forms of Knowledge: the exoteric one, within everyone's reach, and the esoteric one, understandable only to the initiates.

 

The remaining statues, with male features, represent Autumn and Winter, and depict Boaz and Joaquim, the two legendary guardians of the Pillars of Hercules. Winter turns its gaze towards the East, where the sun rises, and legend has it that, when the location of the fountain was changed, Giovanni Riva changed the orientation of the face of the sculpture precisely to respect this symbology. The water that is poured from the wineskins held by the two characters is, instead, the representation of knowledge. At the foot of Autumn there are pine cones depicted, whose scaled structure recalls the idea of ​​brotherhood already expressed by the grapes and pomegranates of the statue of Summer. Furthermore, the gathered and hidden nature of pine cone seeds such as the pomegranate represents esoteric knowledge, one accessible only to a select few.

But it doesn't end there. Moving slightly away to admire the fountain, it is possible to notice how a perfectly rectangular gap opens between the two male figures. Autumn and Winter are, in fact, the guardians of the road that leads to knowledge.

 

If you are interested in this esoteric aspect, we recommend the Turin Magica Tour which will take you around exploring the places of legends and mysteries of the city.

© Guide Turin | Go to the Full Version

The days drag and the weeks fly by.

 

It has been a grim week at work, and yet the weekend is here once again.

 

The cold snap is still here; thick frosts and icy patches, but Sunday afternoon storms will sweep in from the west and temperatures will soar by day to 13 degrees.

 

But for now it is cold, and colder at nights, the wood burner makes the living room toasty warm, though the rest of the house seems like a fridge in comparison.

 

Even though we went to bed at nine, we slept to nearly half seven, which meant we were already later than usual going to Tesco.

 

We had a coffee first, then got dressed and went out into the winter wonderland.

 

Tesco was more crowded mainly because we were an hour later. There were no crackers for cheese, a whole aisle empty of cream crackers and butter wafers.

 

There is only so much food you can eat even over Christmas, so the cracker-shortage won't affect us, we have two Dundee cakes, filling for two lots of mince pies and pastry for five lots of sausage rolls.

 

We won't starve.

 

We buy another bag of stuff for the food bank, try to get two weeks of stuff so we wont need to go next weekend, just to a farm shop for vegetables, and the butcher for the Christmas order, though on the 25th we are going out for dinner to the Lantern.

 

Back home for fruit, then bacon butties and another huge brew. Yes, smoked bacon is again in short supply, with just the basic streaky smoked available, but we're not fussy, so that does the trick.

 

Also, Jools picked up her inhalers for her cough, and so, we hope, the road to recovery begins.

 

What to do with the day?

 

Although a walk would have been good, Jools can do no more than ten minutes in freezing conditions before a coughing fits starts, so a couple of churches to revisit and take more shots of.

 

First on the list was St Leonard in Upper Deal. A church I have only have been inside once. As it was just half ten, there should have been a chance it was open, but no. We parked up and I walked over the road to try the porch door, but it was locked.

 

No worries, as the next two would certainly be open.

 

Just up the road towards Canterbury is Ash.

 

Ash is a large village that the main roads now bypass its narrow streets, and buses call not so frequently.

 

The church towers over the village, its spire piercing the grey sky. We park beside the old curry hours than burned down a decade ago, is now a house and no sign of damage.

 

indeed the church was open, though the porch door was closed, it opened with use of the latch, and the inner glass door swung inwards, revealing an interior I had forgotten about, rich Victorian glass let in the weak sunlight, allowing me to take detailed shots. It was far better and more enjoyable than I remembered.

 

Once I took 200 or so shots, we went back to the car, drove back to the main road, and on to Wingham, where the church there, a twin of Wingham, would also be open too.

 

And it was.

 

The wardens were just finishing trimming the church up, and putting out new flowers, it was a bustle of activity, then one by one they left.

 

got my shots, and we left, back to the car and to home, though we did stop at he farm shop at Aylsham, and all we wanted was some sweet peppers for hash.

 

We went in and there was the bakery: I bought two sausage rolls, four small pork pies and two Cajun flavours scotch eggs. We got cider, beer, healthy snacks (we told ourselves) and finally found the peppers.

 

Three peppers cost £50!

 

Then back home, along the A2.

 

And arriving back home at one. We feasted on the scotch eggs and two of the pork pies.

 

Yummy.

 

There was the third place play off game to watch on the tellybox, the Football league to follow on the radio. We lit the woodburner and it was soon toasty warm.

 

At half five, Norwich kicked off, and hopes were high as Blackburn had not beaten us in over a decade.

 

And, yes you guessed it, Norwich lost. Played poorly, and in Dad's words, were lucky to get nil.

 

Oh dear.

 

Oh dear indeed.

 

We have Christmas cake for supper, and apart from the football, as was well with the world.

 

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A large and impressive church of mainly thirteenth century date over restored in 1847 by the irrepressible William Butterfield. The scale of the interior is amazing - particularly in the tower crossing arches which support the enormous spire. They are an obvious insertion into an earlier structure. The best furnishing at Ash is the eighteenth century font which stands on an inscribed base. For the visitor interested in memorials, Ash ahs more than most ranging from the fourteenth century effigy of a knight to two excellent alabaster memorials to Sir Thomas Harfleet (d 1612) and Christopher Toldervy (d 1618). Mrs Toldervy appears twice in the church for she accompanies her husband on his memorial and may also be seen as a `weeper` on her parents` memorial! On that she is one of two survivors of what was once a group of seven daughters - all her weeping brothers have long since disappeared.

 

www.kentchurches.info/church.asp?p=Ash+2

 

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ASH

LIES adjoining to the last-described parish of Staple northward. It is written in Domesday, Ece, and in other antient records, Aisse, and is usually called Ash, near Sandwich, to distinguish it from Ash, near Wrotham.

 

The parish of Ash is very large, extending over a variety of soil and country, of hill, dale, and marsh lands, near four miles across each way, and containing more than six thousand acres of land, of which about one half is marsh, the river Stour being its northern bounday, where it is very wet and unwholesone, but the southern or upland part of the parish is very dary, pleasant and healthy. The soil in general is fertile, and lets on an average at about one pound an acre; notwithstanding, there is a part of it about Ash-street and Gilton town, where it is a deep sand. The village of Ash, commonly called Ash-street, situated in this part of it, on high ground, mostly on the western declivity of a hill, having the church on the brow of it, is built on each side of the road from Canterbury to Sandwich, and contains about fifty houses. On the south side of this road, about half a mile westward, is a Roman burial ground, of which further mention will be taken hereaster, and adjoining to it the hamlet of Gilton town, formerly written Guildanton, in which is Gilton parsonage, a neat stuccoed house, lately inhabited by Mr. Robert Legrand, and now by Mrs. Becker. In the valley southward stands Mote farm, alias Brooke house, formerly the habitation of the Stoughtons, then of the Ptoroude's and now the property of Edward Solly, esq. of London.

 

There are dispersed throughout this large parish many small hamlets and farms, which have been formerly of more consequence, from the respective owners and in habitants of them, all which, excepting East and New Street, and Great Pedding, (the latter of which was the antient residence of the family of solly, who lie buried in Ash church-yard, and bore for their arms, Vert, a chevron, per pale, or, and gules, between three soles naiant, argent, and being sold by one of them to dean Lynch, is now in the possession of lady Lynch, the widow of Sir William Lynch, K. B.) are situated in the northern part of the parish, and contain together about two hundred and fifty houses, among them is Hoden, formerly the residence of the family of St. Nicholas; Paramour-street, which for many years was the residence of those of that name, and Brook-street, in which is Brook-house, the residence of the Brooke's, one of whom John Brooke, esq. in queen Elizabeth's reign, resided here, and bore for his arms, Per bend, vert and sable, two eagles, counterchanged.

 

William, lord Latimer, anno 38 Edward III. obtained a market to be held at Ash, on a Thursday; and a fair yearly on Lady-day, and the two following ones. A fair is now held in Ash-street on Lady and Michaelmas days yearly.

 

In 1473 there was a lazar house for the infirm of the leprosy, at Eche, near Sandwich.

 

¶The manor of Wingham claims paramount over this parish, subordinate to which there were several manors in it, held of the archbishop, to whom that manor belonged, the mansions of which, being inhabited by families of reputation and of good rank in life, made this parish of much greater account than it has been for many years past, the mansions of them having been converted for a length of time into farmhouses to the lands to which they belong.

 

f this manor, (viz. Wingham) William de Acris holds one suling in Fletes, and there he has in demesne one carucate and four villeins, and one knight with one carucate, and one fisbery, with a saltpit of thirty pence. The whole is worth forty shillings.

 

This district or manor was granted by archbishop Lanfranc, soon after this, to one Osberne, (fn. 7) of whom I find no further mention, nor of this place, till king Henry III.'s reign, when it seems to have been separated into two manors, one of which, now known by the name of the manor of Gurson Fleet, though till of late time by that of Fleet only, was held afterwards of the archbishop by knight's service, by the family of Sandwich, and afterwards by the Veres, earls of Oxford, one of whom, Robert de Vere, earl of Oxford, who died anno 3 Edward III. was found by the escheat-rolls of that year, to have died possessed of this manor of Fleet, which continued in his descendants down to John de Vere, earl of Oxford, who for his attachment to the house of Lancaster, was attainted in the first year of king Edward IV. upon which this manor came into the hands of the crown, and was granted the next year to Richard, duke of Gloucester, the king's brother, with whom it staid after his succession to the crown, as king Richard III. on whose death, and the accession of king Henry VII. this manor returned to the possession of John, earl of Oxford, who had been attainted, but was by parliament anno I Henry VII. restored in blood, titles and possessions. After which this manor continued in his name and family till about the middle of queen Elizabeth's reign, when Edward Vere, earl of Oxford, alienated it to Hammond, in whose descendants it continued till one of them, in the middle of king Charles II.'s reign, sold it to Thomas Turner, D. D. who died possessed of it in 1672, and in his name and descendants it continued till the year 1748, when it was sold to John Lynch, D. D. dean of Canterbury, whose son Sir William Lynch, K. B. died possessed of it in 1785, and by his will devised it, with the rest of his estates, to his widow lady Lynch, who is the present possessor of it. A court baron is held for this manor.

 

Archbishop Lanfranc, on his founding the priory of St. Gregory, in the reign of the Conqueror, gave to it the tithe of the manor of Fleet; which gift was confirmed by archbishop Hubert in Richard I.'s reign. This portion of tithes, which arose principally from Gurson Fleet manor, remained with the priory at its dissolution, and is now part of Goldston parsonage, parcel of the see of Canterbury, of which further mention has been made before.

 

The other part of the district of Fleet was called, to distinguish it, and from the possessors of it, the manor of Nevills Fleet, though now known by the name of Fleet only, is situated between Gurson and Richborough, adjoining to the former. This manor was held in king John's reign of the archbishop, by knight's service, by Thomas Pincerna, so called probably from his office of chief butler to that prince, whence his successors assumed the name of Butler, or Boteler. His descendant was Robert le Boteler, who possessed this manor in king Ed ward I.'s reign, and from their possession of it, this manor acquired for some time the name of Butlers Fleet; but in the 20th year of king Edward III. William, lord Latimer of Corbie, appears to have been in the possession of it, and from him it acquired the name of Latimers Fleet. He bore for his arms, Gules, a cross flory, or. After having had summons to parliament, (fn. 8) he died in the begening of king Richard II.'s reign, leaving Elizabeth his sole daughter and heir, married to John, lord Nevill, of Raby, whose son John bore the title of lord Latimer, and was summoned to parliament as lord Latimer, till the 9th year of king Henry VI. in which he died, so that the greatest part of his inheritance, among which was this manor, came by an entail made, to Ralph, lord Nevill, and first earl of Westmoreland, his eldest, but half brother, to whom he had sold, after his life, the barony of Latimer, and he, by seoffment, vested it, with this manor and much of the inheritance above-mentioned, in his younger son Sir George Nevill, who was accordingly summoned to parliament as lord Latimer, anno 10 Henry VI. and his grandson Richard, lord Latimer, in the next regin of Edward IV. alienated this manor, which from their length of possession of it, had acquired the name of Nevill's Fleet, to Sir James Cromer, and his son Sir William Cromer, in the 11th year of king Henry VII, sold it to John Isaak, who passed it away to Kendall, and he, in the beginning of king Henry VIII.'s reign, sold it to Sir John Fogge, of Repton, in Ashford, who died possessed of it in 1533, and his son, of the same name, before the end of it, passed it away to Mr. Thomas Rolfe, and he sold it, within a few years afterwards, to Stephen Hougham, gent. of this parish, who by his will in 1555, devised it to his youngest son Rich. Hougham, of Eastry, from one of whose descendants it was alienated to Sir Adam Spracklin, who sold it to one of the family of Septvans, alias Harflete, in which name it continued till within a few years after the death of king Charles I. when by a female heir Elizabeth it went in marriage to Thomas Kitchell, esq. in whose heirs it continued till it was at length, about the year 1720, alienated by one of them to Mr. Thomas Bambridge, warden of the Fleet prison, upon whose death it became vested in his heirs-at-law, Mr. James Bambridge, of the Temple, attorney at-law, and Thomas Bambridge, and they divided this estate, and that part of it allotted to the latter was soon afterwards alienated by him to Mr. Peter Moulson, of London, whose only daughter and heir carried it in marriage to Mr. Geo. Vaughan, of London, and he and the assignees of Mr. James Bambridge last mentioned, have lately joined in the conveyance of the whole fee of this manor to Mr. Joseph Solly, gent. of Sandwich, the present owner of it. There is not any court held for this manor.

 

In this district, and within this manor of Fleet lastmentioned, there was formerly a chapel of cose to the church of Ash, as that was to the church of Wingham, to which college, on its foundation by archbishop Peckham in 1286, the tithes, rents, obventions, &c of this chapel and district was granted by him, for the support in common of the provost and canons of it, with whom it remained till the suppression of it, anno I king Edward VI. The tithes, arising from this manor of Fleet, and the hamlet of Richborough, are now a part of the rectory of Ash, and of that particular part of it called Gilton parsonage, parcel of the possessions of the see of Canterbury, of which further mention will be made hereafter. There have not been any remains left of it for a long time part.

 

Richborough is a hamlet and district of land, in the south-east part of this parish, rendered famous from the Roman fort and town built there, and more so formerly, from the port or haven close adjoining to it.

 

It was in general called by the Romans by the plural name of Rutupiæ; for it must be observed that the æstuary, which at that time separated the Isle of Thanet from the main land of Kent, and was the general passage for shipping,had at each mouth of it, towards the sea, a fort and haven, called jointly Rutupiæ. That at the northern part and of it being now called Reculver, and that at the eastern, being the principal one, this of Richborough.

 

The name of it is variously spelt in different authors. By Ptolemy it is written [Patapiaia (?)] urbem; by Tacitus, according to the best reading, Portus, Rutupensis; by Antonine, in his Itinerary, Ritupas, and Ritupis Portum; by Ammianus, Ritupiæ statio; afterwards by the Saxons, Reptacester, and now Richborough.

 

The haven, or Portus Rutupinus, or Richborough, was very eminent in the time of the Romans, and much celebrated in antient history, being a safe and commodious harbour, stationem ex adverso tranquillam, as Ammianus calls it, situated at the entrance of the passage towards then Thamas, and becoming the general place of setting sail from Britain to the continent, and where the Roman fleets arrived, and so large and extensive was the bay of it, that it is supposed to have extended far beyond Sandwich on the one side, almost to Ramsgate cliffs on the other, near five miles in width, covering the whole of that flat of land on which Stonar and Sandwich were afterwards built, and extending from thence up the æstuary between the Isle of Thanet and the main land. So that Antonine might well name it the Port, in his Itinerary, [Kat exochin], from there being no other of like consequence, and from this circumstance the shore for some distance on each side acquired the general name of Littus Rutupinum, the Rutupian shore. (fn. 9) Some have contended that Julius Cæsar landed at Richborough, in his expeditions into Britain; but this opinion is refuted by Dr. Hasley in Phil, Trans. No. 193, who plainly proves his place of landing to have been in the Downs. The fort of Richborough, from the similarity of the remains of it to those of Reculver, seems to have been built about the same time, and by the same emperer, Serveris, about the year 205. It stands on the high hill, close to a deep precipice eastward, at the soot of which was the haven. In this fortress, so peculiarly strengthened by its situation, the Romans had afterwards a stationary garrison, and here they had likewise a pharos, of watch tower, the like as at Reculver and other places on this coast, as well to guide the shipping into the haven, as to give notice of the approach of enemies. It is by most supposed that there was, in the time of the Romans, near the fort, in like manner as at Reculver, a city or town, on the decline of the hill, south-westward from it, according to custom, at which a colony was settled by them. Prolemy, in his geography, reckons the city Rutpia as one of the three principal cities of Kent. (fn. 10) Orosius. and Bede too, expressly mention it as such; but when the haven decayed, and there was no longer a traffic and resort to this place, the town decayed likewise, and there have not been, for many ages since, any remains whatever of it left; though quantities of coins and Roman antiquities have been sound on the spot where it is supposed to have once stood.

 

During the latter part of the Roman empire, when the Saxons prevented all trade by sea, and insefted these coasts by frequent robberies, the second Roman legion, called Augusta, and likewise Britannica, which had been brought out of Germany by the emperor Claudius, and had resided for many years at the Isca Silurum, in Wales, was removed and stationed here, under a president or commander, præpositus, of its own, who was subordinate to the count of the Saxon shore, and continued so till the final departure of the Romans from Britain, in the year 410, when this fortress was left in the hands of the Britons, who were afterwards dispossessed of it by the Saxons, during whose time the harbour seems to have began to decay and to swerve up, the sea by degrees entirely deserting it at this place, but still leaving one large and commodious at Sandwich, which in process of time became the usual resort for shipping, and arose a flourishing harbour in its stead, as plainly appears by the histories of those times, by all of which, both the royal Saxon fleets, as well as those of the Danes, are said to sail for the port of Sandwich, and there to lie at different times; (fn. 11) and no further mention is made by any of them of this of Rutupiæ, Reptachester, or Richborough; so that the port being thus destroyed, the town became neglected and desolate, and with the castle sunk into a heap of ruins. Leland's description of it in king Henry VIII.'s reign, is very accurate, and gives an exceeding good idea of the progressive state of its decay to that time. He says, "Ratesburg otherwyse Richeboro was, of ever the ryver of Sture dyd turn his botom or old canale, withyn the Isle of the Thanet, and by Iykelyhod the mayn se came to the very foote of the castel. The mayn se ys now of yt a myle by reason of wose, that has there swollen up. The scite of the town or castel ys wonderful fair apon an hille. The walles the wich remayn ther yet be in cumpase almost as much as the tower of London. They have bene very hye thykke stronge and wel embateled. The mater of them is flynt mervelus and long brykes both white and redde after the Britons fascion. The sement was made of se sand and smaul pible. Ther is a great lykelyhod that the goodly hil abowte the castel and especially to Sandwich ward hath bene wel inhabited. Corne groweth on the hille yn bene mervelous plenty and yn going to plowgh ther hath owt of mynde fownd and now is mo antiquities of Romayne money than yn any place els of England surely reason speketh that this should be Rutupinum. For byside that the name sumwhat toucheth, the very near passage fro Cales Clyves or Cales was to Ratesburgh and now is to Sandwich, the which is about a myle of; though now Sandwich be not celebrated by cawse of Goodwine sandes and the decay of the haven. Ther is a good flyte shot of fro Ratesburg toward Sandwich a great dyke caste in a rownd cumpas as yt had bene for sens of menne of warre. The cumpase of the grownd withyn is not much above an acre and yt is very holo by casting up the yerth. They cawle the place there Lytleborough. Withyn the castel is a lytle paroche chirch of St. Augustine and an heremitage. I had antiquities of the heremite the which is an industrious man. Not far fro the hermitage is a cave wher men have sowt and digged for treasure. I saw it by candel withyn, and ther were conys. Yt was so straite that I had no mynd to crepe far yn. In the north side of the castel ys a hedde yn the walle, now fore defaced with wether. They call it queen Bertha hedde. Nere to that place hard by the wal was a pot of Romayne mony sownd."

 

The ruins of this antient castle stand upon the point of a hill or promontory, about a mile north-west from Sandwich, overlooking on each side, excepting towards the west, a great flat which appears by the lowness of it, and the banks of beach still shewing themselves in different places, to have been all once covered by the sea. The east side of this hill is great part of it so high and perpendicular from the flat at the foot of it, where the river Stour now runs, that ships with the greatest burthen might have lain close to it, and there are no signs of any wall having been there; but at the north end, where the ground rises into a natural terrace, so as to render one necessary, there is about 190 feet of wall left. Those on the other three sides are for the most part standing, and much more entire than could be expected, considering the number of years since they were built, and the most so of any in the kingdom, except Silchester. It is in shape an oblong square, containing within it a space of somewhat less than five acres. They are in general about ten feet high within, but their broken tops shew them to have been still higher. The north wall, on the outside, is about twice as high as it is within, or the other two, having been carried up from the very bottom of the hill, and it seems to have been somewhat longer than it is at present, by some pieces of it sallen down at the east end. The walls are about eleven feet thick. In the middle of the west side is the aperture of an entrance, which probably led to the city or town, and on the north side is another, being an entrance obliquely into the castle. Near the middle of the area are the ruins of some walls, full of bushes and briars, which seem as if some one had dug under ground among them, probably where once stood the prætorium of the Roman general, and where a church or chapel was afterwards erected, dedicated to St. Augustine, and taken notice of by Leland as such in his time. It appears to have been a chapel of ease to the church of Ash, for the few remaining inhabitants of this district, and is mentioned as such in the grant of the rectory of that church, anno 3 Edward VI. at which time it appears to have existed. About a furlong to the south, in a ploughed field, is a large circular work, with a hollow in the middle, the banks of unequal heights, which is supposed to have been an amphitheatre, built of turf, for the use of the garrison, the different heights of the banks having been occasioned by cultivation, and the usual decay, which must have happened from so great a length of time. These stations of the Romans, of which Richborough was one, were strong fortifications, for the most part of no great compass or extent, wherein were barracks for the loding of the soldiers, who had their usual winter quarters in them. Adjoining, or at no great distance from them, there were usually other, buildings forming a town; and such a one was here at Richborough, as has been already mentioned before, to which the station or fort was in the nature of a citadel, where the soldiers kept garrison. To this Tacitus seems to allude, when he says, "the works that in time of peace had been built, like a free town, not far from the camp, were destroyed, left they should be of any service to the enemy." (fn. 12) Which in great measure accounts for there being no kind of trace or remains left, to point out where this town once stood, which had not only the Romans, according to the above observation, but the Saxons and Danes afterwards, to carry forward at different æras the total destruction of it.

 

The burial ground for this Roman colony and station of Richborough, appears to have been on the hill at the end of Gilton town, in this parish, about two miles south-west from the castle, and the many graves which have been continually dug up there, in different parts of it, shew it to have been of general use for that purpose for several ages.

 

The scite of the castle at Richborough was part of the antient inheritance of the family of the Veres, earls of Oxford, from which it was alienated in queen Elizabeth's reign to Gaunt; after which it passed, in like manner as Wingham Barton before-described, to Thurbarne, and thence by marriage to Rivett, who sold it to Farrer, from whom it was alienated to Peter Fector, esq. of Dover, the present possessor of it. In the deed of conveyance it is thus described: And also all those the walls and ruins of the antient castle of Rutupium, now known by the name of Richborough castle, with the scite of the antient port and city of Rutupinum, being on and near the lands before-mentioned. About the walls of Richborough grows Fæniculum valgare, common fennel, in great plenty.

 

It may be learned from the second iter of Antonine's Itinerary, that there was once a Roman road, or highway from Canterbury to the port of Richborough, in which iter the two laft stations are, from Durovernum, Canterbury, to Richborough, ad portum Rutupis, xii miles; in which distance all the different copies of the Itinerary agree. Some parts of this road can be tracted at places at this time with certainty; and by the Roman burial-ground, usually placed near the side of a high road, at Gilton town, and several other Roman vestigia thereabouts, it may well be supposed to have led from Canterbury through that place to Richborough, and there is at this time from Goldston, in Ash, across the low-grounds to it, a road much harder and broader than usual for the apparent use of it, which might perhaps be some part of it.

 

Charities.

A person unknown gave four acres and an half of land, in Chapman-street, of the annual produce of 5l. towards the church assessments.

 

Thomas St. Nicholas, esq. of this parish, by deed about the year 1626, gave an annuity of 11. 5s. to be paid from his estate of Hoden, now belonging to the heirs of Nathaniel Elgar, esq. to be distributed yearly, 10s. to the repairing and keeping clean the Toldervey monument in this church, and 15s. on Christmas-day to the poor.

 

John Proude, the elder, of Ash, yeoman, by his will in 1626, ordered that his executor should erect upon his land adjoining to the church-yard, a house, which should be disposed of in future by the churchwardens and overseers, for a school-house, and for a storehouse, to lay in provision for the church and poor. This house is now let at 1l. per annum, and the produce applied to the use of the poor.

 

Richard Camden, in 1642, gave by will forty perches of land, for the use of the poor, and of the annual produce of 15s. now vested in the minister and churchwardens.

 

Gervas Cartwright, esq. and his two sisters, in 1710 and 1721, gave by deed an estate, now of the yearly value of 50l. for teaching fifty poor children to read, write, &c. vested in the minister, churchwardens, and other trustees.

 

The above two sisters, Eleanor and Anne Cartwright, gave besides 100l. for beautifying the chancel, and for providing two large pieces of plate for the communion service; and Mrs. Susan Robetts added two other pieces of plate for the same purpose.

 

There is a large and commodious workhouse lately built, for the use of the poor, to discharge the expence of which, 100l. is taken yearly out of the poor's rate, till the whole is discharged. In 1604, the charges of the poor were 29l. 15s. 11d. In 1779. 1000l.

 

There is a charity school for boys and girls, who are educated, but not cloathed.

 

The poor constantly relieved are about seventy-five, casually fifty-five.

 

This parish is within the ecclesiastical jurisdiction of the dioceseof Canterbury, and deanry of Bridge.

 

The church, which is dedicated to St. Nicholas, is a handsome building, of the form of a cross, consisting of two isles and two chancels, and a cross sept, having a tall spire steeple in the middle, in which are eight bells and a clock. It is very neat and handsome in the inside. In the high or south chancel is a monument for the Roberts's, arms, Argent, three pheons, sable, on a chief of the second, a greybound current of the first; another for the Cartwrights, arms, Or, a fess embattled, between three catherine wheels, sable. In the north wall is a monument for one of the family of Leverick, with his effigies, in armour, lying cross-legged on it; and in the same wall, westward, is another like monument for Sir John Goshall, with his effigies on it, in like manner, and in a hollow underneath, the effigies of his wife, in her head-dress, and wimple under her chin. A gravestone, with an inscription, and figure of a woman with a remarkable high high-dress, the middle part like a horseshoe inverted, for Jane Keriell, daughter of Roger Clitherow. A stone for Benjamin Longley, LL. B. minister of Ash twenty-nine years, vicar of Eynsford and Tonge, obt. 1783. A monument for William Brett, esq. and Frances his wife. The north chancel, dedicated to St. Nicholas, belongs to the manor of Molland. Against the north wall is a tomb, having on it the effigies of a man and woman, lying at full length, the former in armour, and sword by his side, but his head bare, a collar of SS about his neck, both seemingly under the middle age, but neither arms nor inscription, but it was for one of the family of Harflete, alias Septvans; and there are monuments and several memorials and brasses likewise for that family. A memorial for Thomas Singleton, M. D. of Molland, obt. 1710. One for John Brooke, of Brookestreet, obt. 1582, s. p. arms, Per bend, two eagles.—Several memorials for the Pekes, of Hills-court, and for Masters, of Goldstone. A monument for Christopher Toldervy, of Chartham, obt. 1618. A memorial for Daniel Hole, who, as well as his ancestors, had lived upwards of one hundred years at Goshall, as occupiers of it. In the north cross, which was called the chapel of St. Thomas the Martyr, was buried the family of St. Nicholas. The brass plates of whom, with their arms, are still to be seen. A tablet for Whittingham Wood, gent. obt. 1656. In the south cross, a monument for Richard Hougham, gent. of Weddington, and Elizabeth his wife, daughter of Edward Sanders, gent. of Norborne. An elegant monument for Mary, wife of Henry Lowman, esq. of Dortnued, in Germany. She died in 1737, and he died in 1743. And for lieutenant colonel Christopher Ernest Kien, obt. 1744, and Jane his wife, their sole daughter and heir, obt. 1762, and for Evert George Cousemaker, esq. obt. 1763, all buried in a vault underneath, arms, Or, on a mount vert, a naked man, bolding a branch in his hand, proper, impaling per bend sinister, argent and gules, a knight armed on borjeback, holding a tilting spear erect, the point downwards, all counterchanged. On the font is inscribed, Robert Minchard, arms, A crescent, between the points of it a mullet. Several of the Harfletes lie buried in the church-yard, near the porch, but their tombs are gone. On each side of the porch are two compartments of stone work, which were once ornamented with brasses, most probably in remembrance of the Harfleets, buried near them. At the corner of the church-yard are two old tombs, supposed for the family of Alday.

 

In the windows of the church were formerly several coats of arms, and among others, of Septvans, alias Harflete, Notbeame, who married Constance, widow of John Septvans; Brooke, Ellis, Clitherow, Oldcastle, Keriell, and Hougham; and the figures of St. Nicholas, Keriell, and Hougham, kneeling, in their respective surcoats of arms, but there is not any painted glass left in any part of the church or chancels.

 

John Septvans, about king Henry VII.'s reign, founded a chantry, called the chantry of the upper Hall, as appears by the will of Katherine Martin, of Faversham, sometime his wife, in 1497. There was a chantry of our blessed Lady, and another of St. Stephen likewise, in it; both suppressed in the 1st year of king Edward VI. when the former of them was returned to be of the clear yearly certified value of 15l. 11s. 1½d. (fn. 13)

 

The church of Ash was antiently a chapel of east to that of Wingham, and was, on the foundation of the college there in 1286, separated from it, and made a distinct parish church of itself, and then given to the college, with the chapels likewise of Overland and Fleet, in this parish, appurtenant to this church; which becoming thus appropriated to the college, continued with it till the suppression of it in king Edward VI.'s reign, when this part of the rectory or parsonage appropriate, called Overland parsonage, with the advowson of the church, came, with the rest of the possessions of the college, into the hands of the crown, where the advowson of the vicarage, or perpetual curacy of it did not remain long, for in the year 1558, queen Mary granted it, among others, to the archbishop. But the above-mentioned part of the rectory, or parsonage appropriate of Ash, with those chapels, remained in the crown, till queen Elizabeth, in her 3d year, granted it in exchange to archbishop Parker, who was before possessed of that part called Goldston parsonage, parcel of the late dissolved priory of St. Gregory, by grant from king Henry VIII. so that now this parish is divided into two distinct parsonages, viz. of Overland and of Goldston, which are demised on separate beneficial leases by the archbishop, the former to the heirs of Parker, and the latter, called Gilton parsonage, from the house and barns of it being situated in that hamlet, to George Gipps, esq. M. P. for Canterbury. The patronage of the perpetual curacy remains parcel of the possessions of the see of Canterbury.

 

¶At the time this church was appropriated to the college of Wingham, a vicarage was endowed in it, which after the suppression of the college came to be esteemed as a perpetual curacy. It is not valued in the king's books. The antient stipend paid by the provost, &c. to the curate being 16l. 13s. 4d. was in 1660, augmented by archbishop Juxon with the addition of 33l. 6s. 8d. per annum; and it was afterwards further augmented by archbishop Sheldon, anno 28 Charles II. with twenty pounds per annum more, the whole to be paid by the several lessees of these parsonages. Which sum of seventy pounds is now the clear yearly certified value of it. In 1588 here were communicants five hundred; in 1640, eight hundred and fifty. So far as appears by the registers, the increase of births in this parish is almost double to what they were two hundred years ago.

 

www.british-history.ac.uk/survey-kent/vol9/pp191-224

German collectors card in the series 'Vom Werden deutscher Filmkunst - Der Tonfilm', album no. 11, picture no. 116, Group 44. Photo: Aafa / Ross Verlag. Willi Domgraef Fassbaender in Theodor Körner (Carl Boese, 1932).

 

Celebrated German opera singer Willi Domgraf Fassbaender (1897-1978) was one of the leading lyric baritones of the inter-war period. He was particularly associated with Mozart and Italian roles. ‘The Italian baritone’ starred in the 1930s in many musical films, which helped his shining international reputation.

 

For more cards of this series, check out our album Vom Werden Deutscher Filmkunst.

Robert Hooke FRS (/hʊk/; 28 July [O.S. 18 July] 1635 – 3 March 1703) was an English natural philosopher, architect and polymath.

 

His adult life comprised three distinct periods: as a scientific inquirer lacking money; achieving great wealth and standing through his reputation for hard work and scrupulous honesty following the great fire of 1666, but eventually becoming ill and party to jealous intellectual disputes. These issues may have contributed to his relative historical obscurity.

 

He was at one time simultaneously the curator of experiments of the Royal Society and a member of its council, Gresham Professor of Geometry and a Surveyor to the City of London after the Great Fire of London, in which capacity he appears to have performed more than half of all the surveys after the fire. He was also an important architect of his time – though few of his buildings now survive and some of those are generally misattributed – and was instrumental in devising a set of planning controls for London whose influence remains today. Allan Chapman has characterised him as "England's Leonardo".[1]

 

Robert Gunther's Early Science in Oxford, a history of science in Oxford during the Protectorate, Restoration and Age of Enlightenment, devotes five of its fourteen volumes to Hooke.

 

Hooke studied at Wadham College during the Protectorate where he became one of a tightly knit group of ardent Royalists led by John Wilkins. Here he was employed as an assistant to Thomas Willis and to Robert Boyle, for whom he built the vacuum pumps used in Boyle's gas law experiments. He built some of the earliest Gregorian telescopes and observed the rotations of Mars and Jupiter. In 1665 he inspired the use of microscopes for scientific exploration with his book, Micrographia. Based on his microscopic observations of fossils, Hooke was an early proponent of biological evolution.[2][3] He investigated the phenomenon of refraction, deducing the wave theory of light, and was the first to suggest that matter expands when heated and that air is made of small particles separated by relatively large distances. He performed pioneering work in the field of surveying and map-making and was involved in the work that led to the first modern plan-form map, though his plan for London on a grid system was rejected in favour of rebuilding along the existing routes. He also came near to an experimental proof that gravity follows an inverse square law, and hypothesised that such a relation governs the motions of the planets, an idea which was subsequently developed by Isaac Newton.[4] Much of Hooke's scientific work was conducted in his capacity as curator of experiments of the Royal Society, a post he held from 1662, or as part of the household of Robert Boyle.

 

Much of what is known of Hooke's early life comes from an autobiography that he commenced in 1696 but never completed. Richard Waller mentions it in his introduction to The Posthumous Works of Robert Hooke, M.D. S.R.S., printed in 1705. The work of Waller, along with John Ward's Lives of the Gresham Professors and John Aubrey's Brief Lives, form the major near-contemporaneous biographical accounts of Hooke.

 

Robert Hooke was born in 1635 in Freshwater on the Isle of Wight to John Hooke and Cecily Gyles. Robert was the last of four children, two boys and two girls, and there was an age difference of seven years between him and the next youngest.[5] Their father John was a Church of England priest, the curate of Freshwater's Church of All Saints,[6] and his two brothers (Robert's uncles) were also ministers. Robert Hooke was expected to succeed in his education and join the Church. John Hooke also was in charge of a local school, and so was able to teach Robert, at least partly at home perhaps due to the boy's frail health. He was a Royalist and almost certainly a member of a group who went to pay their respects to Charles I when he escaped to the Isle of Wight. Robert, too, grew up to be a staunch monarchist.

 

As a youth, Robert Hooke was fascinated by observation, mechanical works, and drawing, interests that he would pursue in various ways throughout his life. He dismantled a brass clock and built a wooden replica that, by all accounts, worked "well enough", and he learned to draw, making his own materials from coal, chalk and ruddle (iron ore).

 

On his father's death in 1648, Robert was left a sum of forty pounds[5][7] that enabled him to buy an apprenticeship; with his poor health throughout his life but evident mechanical facility his father had it in mind that he might become a watchmaker or limner (a decorator of illuminated manuscripts), though Hooke was also interested in painting. Hooke was an apt student, so although he went to London to take up an apprenticeship, and studied briefly with Samuel Cowper and Peter Lely, he was soon able to enter Westminster School in London, under Dr. Richard Busby. Hooke quickly mastered Latin and Greek,[7] made some study of Hebrew, and mastered Euclid's Elements.[7] Here, too, he embarked on his lifelong study of mechanics.

 

It appears that Hooke was one of a group of students whom Busby educated in parallel to the main work of the school. Contemporary accounts say he was "not much seen" in the school, and this appears to be true of others in a similar position. Busby, an ardent and outspoken Royalist (he had the school observe a fast-day on the anniversary of the King's beheading), was by all accounts trying to preserve the nascent spirit of scientific inquiry that had begun to flourish in Carolean England but which was at odds with the literal Biblical teachings of the Protectorate. To Busby and his select students the Anglican Church was a framework to support the spirit of inquiry into God's work, those who were able were destined by God to explore and study His creation, and the priesthood functioned as teachers to explain it to those who were less able. This was exemplified in the person of George Hooper, the Bishop of Bath and Wells, whom Busby described as "the best scholar, the finest gentleman and will make the completest bishop that ever was educated at Westminster School".

 

In 1653, Hooke (who had also undertaken a course of twenty lessons on the organ) secured a chorister's place at Christ Church, Oxford.[8] He was employed as a "chemical assistant" to Dr Thomas Willis, for whom Hooke developed a great admiration. There he met the natural philosopher Robert Boyle, and gained employment as his assistant from about 1655 to 1662, constructing, operating, and demonstrating Boyle's "machina Boyleana" or air pump.[9] He did not take his Master of Arts until 1662 or 1663. In 1659 Hooke described some elements of a method of heavier-than-air flight to Wilkins, but concluded that human muscles were insufficient to the task.

 

Hooke himself characterised his Oxford days as the foundation of his lifelong passion for science, and the friends he made there were of paramount importance to him throughout his career, particularly Christopher Wren. Wadham was then under the guidance of John Wilkins, who had a profound impact on Hooke and those around him. Wilkins was also a Royalist, and acutely conscious of the turmoil and uncertainty of the times. There was a sense of urgency in preserving the scientific work which they perceived as being threatened by the Protectorate. Wilkins' "philosophical meetings" in his study were clearly important, though few records survive except for the experiments Boyle conducted in 1658 and published in 1660. This group went on to form the nucleus of the Royal Society. Hooke developed an air pump for Boyle's experiments based on the pump of Ralph Greatorex, which was considered, in Hooke's words, "too gross to perform any great matter."[10]

 

It is known that Hooke had a particularly keen eye, and was an adept mathematician, neither of which applied to Boyle. Gunther suggests that Hooke probably made the observations and may well have developed the mathematics of Boyle's law. Regardless, it is clear that Hooke was a valued assistant to Boyle and the two retained a mutual high regard.

 

A chance surviving copy of Willis' pioneering De anima brutorum, a gift from the author, was chosen by Hooke from Wilkins' library on his death as a memento at John Tillotson's invitation. This book is now in the Wellcome Library. The book and its inscription in Hooke's hand are a testament to the lasting influence of Wilkins and his circle on the young Hooke.

 

The Royal Society was founded in 1660, and in April 1661 the society debated a short tract on the rising of water in slender glass pipes, in which Hooke reported that the height water rose was related to the bore of the pipe (due to what is now termed capillary action). His explanation of this phenomenon was subsequently published in Micrography Observ. issue 6, in which he also explored the nature of "the fluidity of gravity". On 5 November 1661, Sir Robert Moray proposed that a Curator be appointed to furnish the society with Experiments, and this was unanimously passed with Hooke being named. His appointment was made on 12 November, with thanks recorded to Dr. Boyle for releasing him to the Society's employment.

 

In 1664, Sir John Cutler settled an annual gratuity of fifty pounds on the Society for the founding of a Mechanick Lecture, and the Fellows appointed Hooke to this task. On 27 June 1664 he was confirmed to the office, and on 11 January 1665 was named Curator by Office for life with an additional salary of £30 to Cutler's annuity.[11]

 

Hooke's role at the Royal Society was to demonstrate experiments from his own methods or at the suggestion of members. Among his earliest demonstrations were discussions of the nature of air, the implosion of glass bubbles which had been sealed with comprehensive hot air, and demonstrating that the Pabulum vitae and flammae were one and the same. He also demonstrated that a dog could be kept alive with its thorax opened, provided air was pumped in and out of its lungs, and noting the difference between venous and arterial blood. There were also experiments on the subject of gravity, the falling of objects, the weighing of bodies and measuring of barometric pressure at different heights, and pendulums up to 200 ft long (61 m).

 

Instruments were devised to measure a second of arc in the movement of the sun or other stars, to measure the strength of gunpowder, and in particular an engine to cut teeth for watches, much finer than could be managed by hand, an invention which was, by Hooke's death, in constant use.[12]

 

In 1663 and 1664, Hooke produced his microscopy observations, subsequently collated in Micrographia in 1665.

 

On 20 March 1664, Hooke succeeded Arthur Dacres as Gresham Professor of Geometry. Hooke received the degree of "Doctor of Physic" in December 1691.

 

There is a widely reported story that Dr. Hooke corresponded with Thomas Newcomen in connection with Newcomen's invention of the steam engine. This story was discussed by Rhys Jenkins, a past President of the Newcomen Society, in 1936.[14] Jenkins traced the origin of the story to an article "Steam Engines" by Dr. John Robison (1739–1805) in the third edition of the "Encyclopaedia Britannica”, which says There are to be found among Hooke's papers, in the possession of the Royal Society, some notes of observations, for the use of Newcomen, his countryman, on Papin's boasted method of transmitting to a great distance the action of an mill by means of pipes and that Hooke had dissuaded Newcomen from erecting a machine on this principle. Jenkins points out a number of errors in Robison's article, and questions whether the correspondent might in fact have been Newton, who Hooke is known to have corresponded with, the name being misread as Newcomen. A search by Mr. H W Dickinson of Hooke's papers held by the Royal Society, which had been bound together in the middle of the 18th century, i.e. before Robison's time, and carefully preserved since, revealed no trace of any correspondence between Hooke and Newcomen. Jenkins concluded ... this story must be omitted from the history of the steam engine, at any rate until documentary evidence is forthcoming.

 

In the intervening years since 1936 no such evidence has been found, but the story persists. For instance, in a book published in 2011 it is said that in a letter dated 1703 Hooke did suggest that Newcomen use condensing steam to drive the piston.

 

Hooke was irascible, at least in later life, proud, and prone to take umbrage with intellectual competitors, though he was by all accounts also a staunch friend and ally and was loyal always to the circle of ardent Royalists with whom he had his early training at Wadham College, particularly Christopher Wren. His reputation suffered after his death and this is popularly attributed to a dispute with Isaac Newton over credit for his work on gravitation, the planets and to a lesser degree light. His dispute with Oldenburg about whether Oldenburg had leaked or passed on details of Hooke's watch escapement to others is another well-known example.

 

Newton, as President of the Royal Society, did much to obscure Hooke, including, it is said, destroying (or failing to preserve) the only known portrait of the man. It did not help that the first life of Wren, Parentalis, was written by Wren's son, and tended to exaggerate Wren's work over all others. Hooke's reputation was revived during the twentieth century through studies of Robert Gunther and Margaret 'Espinasse. After a long period of relative obscurity he has now been recognised as one of the most important scientists of his age.[16]

 

Hooke was apt to use ciphers and guard his ideas. As curator of Experiments to the Royal Society he was responsible for demonstrating many ideas sent in to the Society, and there is evidence that he would subsequently assume some credit for these ideas. Hooke also was immensely busy and thus unable – or in some cases unwilling, pending a way of profiting from the enterprise via letters patent – to develop all of his own ideas. This was a time of immense scientific progress, and numerous ideas were developed in several places simultaneously.

 

None of this should distract from Hooke's inventiveness, his remarkable experimental facility, and his capacity for hard work. His ideas about gravitation, and his claim of priority for the inverse square law, are outlined below. He was granted a large number of patents for inventions and refinements in the fields of elasticity, optics, and barometry. The Royal Society's Hooke papers (recently discovered after disappearing when Newton took over) will open up a modern reassessment.

 

Much has been written about the unpleasant side of Hooke's personality, starting with comments by his first biographer, Richard Waller, that Hooke was "in person, but despicable" and "melancholy, mistrustful, and jealous."[12] Waller's comments influenced other writers for well over two centuries, so that a picture of Hooke as a disgruntled, selfish, anti-social curmudgeon dominates many older books and articles. For example, Arthur Berry said that Hooke "claimed credit for most of the scientific discoveries of the time."[17] Sullivan wrote that Hooke was "positively unscrupulous" and possessing an "uneasy apprehensive vanity" in dealings with Newton.[18] Manuel used the phrase "cantankerous, envious, vengeful" in his description.[19] More described Hooke having both a "cynical temperament" and a "caustic tongue."[20] Andrade was more sympathetic, but still used the adjectives "difficult", "suspicious", and "irritable" in describing Hooke.[21]

 

The publication of Hooke's diary in 1935[22] revealed other sides of the man that 'Espinasse, in particular, has detailed carefully. She writes that "the picture which is usually painted of Hooke as a morose and envious recluse is completely false."[23] Hooke interacted with noted craftsmen such as Thomas Tompion, the clockmaker, and Christopher Cocks (Cox), an instrument maker. Hooke often met Christopher Wren, with whom he shared many interests, and had a lasting friendship with John Aubrey. Hooke's diaries also make frequent reference to meetings at coffeehouses and taverns, and to dinners with Robert Boyle. He took tea on many occasions with his lab assistant, Harry Hunt. Within his family, Hooke took both a niece and a cousin into his home, teaching them mathematics.

 

Robert Hooke spent his life largely on the Isle of Wight, at Oxford, and in London. He never married, but his diary shows that he was not without affections, and more, for others. On 3 March 1703, Hooke died in London, having amassed a sizable sum of money, which was found in his room at Gresham College. He was buried at St Helen's Bishopsgate, but the precise location of his grave is unknown.

 

In 1660, Hooke discovered the law of elasticity which bears his name and which describes the linear variation of tension with extension in an elastic spring. He first described this discovery in the anagram "ceiiinosssttuv", whose solution he published in 1678 as "Ut tensio, sic vis" meaning "As the extension, so the force." Hooke's work on elasticity culminated, for practical purposes, in his development of the balance spring or hairspring, which for the first time enabled a portable timepiece – a watch – to keep time with reasonable accuracy. A bitter dispute between Hooke and Christiaan Huygens on the priority of this invention was to continue for centuries after the death of both; but a note dated 23 June 1670 in the Hooke Folio (see External links below), describing a demonstration of a balance-controlled watch before the Royal Society, has been held to favour Hooke's claim.

 

It is interesting from a twentieth-century vantage point that Hooke first announced his law of elasticity as an anagram. This was a method sometimes used by scientists, such as Hooke, Huygens, Galileo, and others, to establish priority for a discovery without revealing details.

 

Hooke became Curator of Experiments in 1662 to the newly founded Royal Society, and took responsibility for experiments performed at its weekly meetings. This was a position he held for over 40 years. While this position kept him in the thick of science in Britain and beyond, it also led to some heated arguments with other scientists, such as Huygens (see above) and particularly with Isaac Newton and the Royal Society's Henry Oldenburg. In 1664 Hooke also was appointed Professor of Geometry at Gresham College in London and Cutlerian Lecturer in Mechanics.[25]

 

On 8 July 1680, Hooke observed the nodal patterns associated with the modes of vibration of glass plates. He ran a bow along the edge of a glass plate covered with flour, and saw the nodal patterns emerge.[26][27] In acoustics, in 1681 he showed the Royal Society that musical tones could be generated from spinning brass cogs cut with teeth in particular proportions.

 

While many of his contemporaries believed in the aether as a medium for transmitting attraction or repulsion between separated celestial bodies, Hooke argued for an attracting principle of gravitation in Micrographia of 1665. Hooke's 1666 Royal Society lecture "On gravity"[29] added two further principles – that all bodies move in straight lines till deflected by some force and that the attractive force is stronger for closer bodies. Dugald Stewart, in his Elements of the Philosophy of the Human Mind,[30] quoted Hooke's own words on his system of the world.

 

"I will explain," says Hooke, in a communication to the Royal Society in 1666, "a system of the world very different from any yet received. It is founded on the following positions. 1. That all the heavenly bodies have not only a gravitation of their parts to their own proper centre, but that they also mutually attract each other within their spheres of action. 2. That all bodies having a simple motion, will continue to move in a straight line, unless continually deflected from it by some extraneous force, causing them to describe a circle, an ellipse, or some other curve. 3. That this attraction is so much the greater as the bodies are nearer. As to the proportion in which those forces diminish by an increase of distance, I own I have not discovered it...."

 

Hooke's 1670 Gresham lecture explained that gravitation applied to "all celestial bodies" and added the principles that the gravitating power decreases with distance and that in the absence of any such power bodies move in straight lines.

 

Hooke published his ideas about the "System of the World" again in somewhat developed form in 1674, as an addition to "An Attempt to Prove the Motion of the Earth from Observations".[31] Hooke clearly postulated mutual attractions between the Sun and planets, in a way that increased with nearness to the attracting body.

 

Hooke's statements up to 1674 made no mention, however, that an inverse square law applies or might apply to these attractions. Hooke's gravitation was also not yet universal, though it approached universality more closely than previous hypotheses.[32] Hooke also did not provide accompanying evidence or mathematical demonstration. On these two aspects, Hooke stated in 1674: "Now what these several degrees [of gravitational attraction] are I have not yet experimentally verified" (indicating that he did not yet know what law the gravitation might follow); and as to his whole proposal: "This I only hint at present", "having my self many other things in hand which I would first compleat, and therefore cannot so well attend it" (i.e. "prosecuting this Inquiry").[31]

 

In November 1679, Hooke initiated a remarkable exchange of letters with Newton[33] (of which the full text is now published).[34] Hooke's ostensible purpose was to tell Newton that Hooke had been appointed to manage the Royal Society's correspondence.[35] Hooke therefore wanted to hear from members about their researches, or their views about the researches of others; and as if to whet Newton's interest, he asked what Newton thought about various matters, giving a whole list, mentioning "compounding the celestial motions of the planetts of a direct motion by the tangent and an attractive motion towards the central body", and "my hypothesis of the lawes or causes of springinesse", and then a new hypothesis from Paris about planetary motions (which Hooke described at length), and then efforts to carry out or improve national surveys, the difference of latitude between London and Cambridge, and other items. Newton's reply offered "a fansy of my own" about a terrestrial experiment (not a proposal about celestial motions) which might detect the Earth's motion, by the use of a body first suspended in air and then dropped to let it fall. The main point was to indicate how Newton thought the falling body could experimentally reveal the Earth's motion by its direction of deviation from the vertical, but he went on hypothetically to consider how its motion could continue if the solid Earth had not been in the way (on a spiral path to the centre). Hooke disagreed with Newton's idea of how the body would continue to move.[36] A short further correspondence developed, and towards the end of it Hooke, writing on 6 January 1679|80 to Newton, communicated his "supposition ... that the Attraction always is in a duplicate proportion to the Distance from the Center Reciprocall, and Consequently that the Velocity will be in a subduplicate proportion to the Attraction and Consequently as Kepler Supposes Reciprocall to the Distance."[37] (Hooke's inference about the velocity was actually incorrect)[38]

 

In 1686, when the first book of Newton's 'Principia' was presented to the Royal Society, Hooke claimed that Newton had had from him the "notion" of "the rule of the decrease of Gravity, being reciprocally as the squares of the distances from the Center". At the same time (according to Edmond Halley's contemporary report) Hooke agreed that "the Demonstration of the Curves generated therby" was wholly Newton's.[34]

 

A recent assessment about the early history of the inverse square law is that "by the late 1660s," the assumption of an "inverse proportion between gravity and the square of distance was rather common and had been advanced by a number of different people for different reasons".[39] Newton himself had shown in the 1660s that for planetary motion under a circular assumption, force in the radial direction had an inverse-square relation with distance from the center.[40] Newton, faced in May 1686 with Hooke's claim on the inverse square law, denied that Hooke was to be credited as author of the idea, giving reasons including the citation of prior work by others before Hooke.[34] Newton also firmly claimed that even if it had happened that he had first heard of the inverse square proportion from Hooke, which it had not, he would still have some rights to it in view of his mathematical developments and demonstrations, which enabled observations to be relied on as evidence of its accuracy, while Hooke, without mathematical demonstrations and evidence in favour of the supposition, could only guess (according to Newton) that it was approximately valid "at great distances from the center".[34]

 

On the other hand, Newton did accept and acknowledge, in all editions of the 'Principia', that Hooke (but not exclusively Hooke) had separately appreciated the inverse square law in the solar system. Newton acknowledged Wren, Hooke and Halley in this connection in the Scholium to Proposition 4 in Book 1.[41] Newton also acknowledged to Halley that his correspondence with Hooke in 1679–80 had reawakened his dormant interest in astronomical matters, but that did not mean, according to Newton, that Hooke had told Newton anything new or original: "yet am I not beholden to him for any light into that business but only for the diversion he gave me from my other studies to think on these things & for his dogmaticalness in writing as if he had found the motion in the Ellipsis, which inclined me to try it."[34]

 

One of the contrasts between the two men was that Newton was primarily a pioneer in mathematical analysis and its applications as well as optical experimentation, while Hooke was a creative experimenter of such great range, that it is not surprising to find that he left some of his ideas, such as those about gravitation, undeveloped. This in turn makes it understandable how in 1759, decades after the deaths of both Newton and Hooke, Alexis Clairaut, mathematical astronomer eminent in his own right in the field of gravitational studies, made his assessment after reviewing what Hooke had published on gravitation. "One must not think that this idea ... of Hooke diminishes Newton's glory", Clairaut wrote; "The example of Hooke" serves "to show what a distance there is between a truth that is glimpsed and a truth that is demonstrated"

 

Hooke made tremendously important contributions to the science of timekeeping, being intimately involved in the advances of his time; the introduction of the pendulum as a better regulator for clocks, the balance spring to improve the timekeeping of watches, and the proposal that a precise timekeeper could be used to find the longitude at sea.

 

In 1655, according to his autobiographical notes, Hooke began to acquaint himself with astronomy, through the good offices of John Ward. Hooke applied himself to the improvement of the pendulum and in 1657 or 1658, he began to improve on pendulum mechanisms, studying the work of Giovanni Riccioli, and going on to study both gravitation and the mechanics of timekeeping.

 

Henry Sully, writing in Paris in 1717, described the anchor escapement as an admirable invention of which Dr. Hooke, formerly professor of geometry in Gresham College at London, was the inventor.[44] William Derham also attributes it to Hooke.

 

Hooke recorded that he conceived of a way to determine longitude (then a critical problem for navigation), and with the help of Boyle and others he attempted to patent it. In the process, Hooke demonstrated a pocket-watch of his own devising, fitted with a coil spring attached to the arbour of the balance. Hooke's ultimate failure to secure sufficiently lucrative terms for the exploitation of this idea resulted in its being shelved, and evidently caused him to become more jealous of his inventions. There is substantial evidence to state with reasonable confidence, as Ward, Aubrey, Waller and others all do, that Hooke developed the balance spring independently of and some fifteen years before Christiaan Huygens, who published his own work in Journal de Scavans in February 1675.

 

In 1665 Hooke published Micrographia, a book describing observations made with microscopes and telescopes, as well as some original work in biology. Hooke coined the term cell for describing biological organisms, the term being suggested by the resemblance of plant cells to cells of a honeycomb.[46] The hand-crafted, leather and gold-tooled microscope he used to make the observations for Micrographia, originally constructed by Christopher White in London, is on display at the National Museum of Health and Medicine in Washington, DC.

 

Micrographia also contains Hooke's, or perhaps Boyle and Hooke's, ideas on combustion. Hooke's experiments led him to conclude that combustion involves a substance that is mixed with air, a statement with which modern scientists would agree, but that was not widely understood, if at all, in the seventeenth century. Hooke went on to conclude that respiration also involves a specific component of the air.[47] Partington even goes so far as to claim that if "Hooke had continued his experiments on combustion it is probable that he would have discovered oxygen".

 

One of the observations in Micrographia was of fossil wood, the microscopic structure of which he compared to ordinary wood. This led him to conclude that fossilised objects like petrified wood and fossil shells, such as Ammonites, were the remains of living things that had been soaked in petrifying water laden with minerals.[49] Hooke believed that such fossils provided reliable clues to the past history of life on earth, and, despite the objections of contemporary naturalists like John Ray who found the concept of extinction theologically unacceptable, that in some cases they might represent species that had become extinct through some geological disaster.[50]

 

Charles Lyell wrote the following in his Principles of Geology (1832).

 

'The Posthumous Works of Robert Hooke M.D.,'... appeared in 1705, containing 'A Discourse of Earthquakes'... His treatise... is the most philosophical production of that age, in regard to the causes of former changes in the organic and inorganic kingdoms of nature. 'However trivial a thing,' he says, 'a rotten shell may appear to some, yet these monuments of nature are more certain tokens of antiquity than coins or medals, since the best of those may be counterfeited or made by art and design, as may also books, manuscripts, and inscriptions, as all the learned are now sufficiently satisfied has often been actually practised,' &c.; 'and though it must be granted that it is very difficult to read them and to raise a chronology out of them, and to state the intervals of the time wherein such or such catastrophes and mutations have happened, yet it is not impossible.

 

One of the more-challenging problems tackled by Hooke was the measurement of the distance to a star (other than the Sun). The star chosen was Gamma Draconis and the method to be used was parallax determination. After several months of observing, in 1669, Hooke believed that the desired result had been achieved. It is now known that Hooke's equipment was far too imprecise to allow the measurement to succeed.[51] Gamma Draconis was the same star James Bradley used in 1725 in discovering the aberration of light.

 

Hooke's activities in astronomy extended beyond the study of stellar distance. His Micrographia contains illustrations of the Pleiades star cluster as well as of lunar craters. He performed experiments to study how such craters might have formed.[52] Hooke also was an early observer of the rings of Saturn,[53] and discovered one of the first observed double-star systems, Gamma Arietis, in 1664.

 

A lesser-known contribution, however one of the first of its kind, was Hooke's scientific model of human memory. Hooke in a 1682 lecture to the Royal Society proposed a mechanistic model of human memory, which would bear little resemblance to the mainly philosophical models before it.[55] This model addressed the components of encoding, memory capacity, repetition, retrieval, and forgetting—some with surprising modern accuracy.[56] This work, overlooked for nearly 200 years, shared a variety of similarities with Richard Semon's work of 1919/1923, both assuming memories were physical and located in the brain.[57][58][59] The model's more interesting points are that it (1) allows for attention and other top-down influences on encoding; (2) it uses resonance to implement parallel, cue-dependent retrieval; (3) it explains memory for recency; (4) it offers a single-system account of repetition and priming, and (5) the power law of forgetting can be derived from the model's assumption in a straightforward way.[56] This lecture would be published posthumously in 1705 as the memory model was unusually placed in a series of works on the nature of light. It has been speculated that this work saw little review as the printing was done in small batches in a post-Newtonian age of science and was most likely deemed out of date by the time it was published. Further interfering with its success was contemporary memory psychologists' rejection of immaterial souls, which Hooke invoked to some degree in regards to the processes of attention, encoding and retrieval.

 

Hooke was Surveyor to the City of London and chief assistant to Christopher Wren, in which capacity he helped Wren rebuild London after the Great Fire in 1666, and also worked on the design of London's Monument to the fire, the Royal Greenwich Observatory, Montagu House in Bloomsbury, and the infamous Bethlem Royal Hospital (which became known as 'Bedlam'). Other buildings designed by Hooke include The Royal College of Physicians (1679), Ragley Hall in Warwickshire, Ramsbury Manor in Wiltshire[60] and the parish church of St Mary Magdalene at Willen in Milton Keynes, Buckinghamshire. Hooke's collaboration with Christopher Wren also included St Paul's Cathedral, whose dome uses a method of construction conceived by Hooke. Hooke also participated in the design of the Pepys Library, which held the manuscripts of Samuel Pepys' diaries, the most frequently cited eyewitness account of the Great Fire of London.[61]

 

Hooke and Wren both being keen astronomers, the Monument was designed to serve a scientific function as a telescope for observing transits, though Hooke's characteristically precise measurements after completion showed that the movement of the column in the wind made it unusable for this purpose. The legacy of this can be observed in the construction of the spiral staircase, which has no central column, and in the observation chamber which remains in place below ground level.

 

In the reconstruction after the Great Fire, Hooke proposed redesigning London's streets on a grid pattern with wide boulevards and arteries, a pattern subsequently used in the renovation of Paris, Liverpool, and many American cities. This proposal was thwarted by arguments over property rights, as property owners were surreptitiously shifting their boundaries. Hooke was in demand to settle many of these disputes, due to his competence as a surveyor and his tact as an arbitrator.

 

For an extensive study of Hooke's architectural work, see the book by Cooper.

 

No authenticated portrait of Robert Hooke exists. This situation has sometimes been attributed to the heated conflicts between Hooke and Newton, although Hooke's biographer Allan Chapman rejects as a myth the claims that Newton or his acolytes deliberately destroyed Hooke's portrait. German antiquarian and scholar Zacharias Conrad von Uffenbach visited the Royal Society in 1710 and his account of his visit specifically mentions him being shown the portraits of 'Boyle and Hoock' (which were said to be good likenesses), but while Boyle's portrait survives, Hooke's has evidently been lost.[63] In Hooke's time, the Royal Society met at Gresham College, but within a few months of Hooke's death Newton became the Society's president and plans were laid for a new meeting place. When the move to new quarters finally was made a few years later, in 1710, Hooke's Royal Society portrait went missing, and has yet to be found.

 

en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Robert_Hooke

By the late 1920s, Italy's Isotta Fraschini had earned a reputation for both performance and luxury among well-heeled American buyers.

 

The Isotta Fraschini 7.3-liter Tipo 8A, launched in 1924, was built to three different specifications - the standard Tipo 8A on a 145-inch wheelbase and two powerful 150 horsepower models, the Spinto S and Super Spinto SS, each on a 134-inch chassis.

 

Isotta Fraschini marketed their elegant automobiles to the new American aristocracy, the stars of stage and screen - and they flocked to Isotta's showrooms on Fifth Avenue in New York City, often paying a lot more for an Isotta than they would have paid for a Model J Duesenberg. Clara Bow and Rudolph Valentino both owned Isottas.

 

The chassis of this Isotta Fraschini was built in Italy and then delivered to the LeBaron Company in the United States to have the boattail body with single rumble seat put on it. Its 160 horsepower straight eight engine made this a powerful and fast car.

 

Built in Italy and with Custom Coachwork by LeBaron, this Isotta-Fraschini was introduced at the 1928 New York Auto Show. Two such custom boattail bodies were produced. Isotta-Fraschini's were favorites among those such as silent movie star Rudolph Valentino and this particular car was owned by 'America's Darling of Broadway and The Silent Screen,' Marguerite Clark (born in Cincinnati, Ohio) and her husband the aviator Harry Williams. Ms. Clark was the inspiration for the Walt Disney character of 'Snow White.'

Oh the MGB, the last great British Sports car?

 

A motor that refused to die even though British Leyland simply couldn't stop messing around with it. The MGB is an example of a car that went from one of the most loved and lovable cars in British motoring, to what many describe as an empty husk broken and bent for legislation purposes. But the MGB would have its way in the end!

 

The story behind the MGB begins in 1962, when the car was designed to incorporate an innovative, modern style utilizing a monocoque structure instead of the traditional body-on-frame construction used on both the MGA and MG T-types and the MGB's rival, the Triumph TR series. However components such as brakes and suspension were developments of the earlier 1955 MGA with the B-Series engine having its origins in 1947. The lightweight design reduced manufacturing costs while adding to overall vehicle strength. Wind-up windows were standard, and a comfortable driver's compartment offered plenty of legroom. A parcel shelf was fitted behind the seats.

 

The car was powered by a BMC B-Series engine, producing 95hp and giving the car a 0-60 of 11 seconds, perhaps not the briskest acceleration, but of course this car was more a comfy little cruiser, ambling about the countryside in sedate fashion admiring the views. The MGB was also one of the first cars to feature controlled crumple zones designed to protect the driver and passenger in a 30 mph impact with an immovable barrier (200 ton).

 

The roadster was the first of the MGB range to be produced. The body was a pure two-seater but a small rear seat was a rare option at one point. By making better use of space the MGB was able to offer more passenger and luggage accommodation than the earlier MGA while 3 inches shorter overall. The suspension was also softer, giving a smoother ride, and the larger engine gave a slightly higher top speed. The four-speed gearbox was an uprated version of the one used in the MGA with an optional (electrically activated) overdrive transmission. Wheel diameter dropped from 15 to 14 inches.

 

Upon its launch the MGB was given almost unanimous acclaim, largely due to its advanced and innovative design combined with its beautifully and sleek styling. Previous sports cars of the same calibre had always been levied with a reputation for their ropey nature, with a majority of previous models being simply remodelled versions of the MG's and Triumphs that dated back to the end of and in some cases even before World War II. But the MG was different, and if I'm honest, a large part of its appeal is due to its small, low body, and it's poky round headlights that make it look rather cute. It's the kind of car you could give a name, preferably a girl's one. Either way, the MGB sold in hundreds, disappearing off to all corners of the globe, touring the South of France, storming across the deserts of Southern California on Route 66, or dodging its way through the bustling Indian traffic, these things were adored.

 

However, the only version available was a soft-top roadster, which didn't appeal to everyone, so in 1965 MG took the B to Italy, and the great styling firm known as Pininfarina, and asked them to pop a roof on their windy little sports car. What resulted was a roof fixture that blended its way perfectly into the rest of the body, a smooth greenhouse cabin that was spacious but still maintained the styling that enthusiasts had come to know so well, going on to be dubbed "The poor man's Aston Martin."

 

Although acceleration of the GT was slightly slower than that of the roadster, due to its increased weight, top speed improved by 5 mph to 105 mph due to better aerodynamics.

 

However, tweaks were starting to be made to the MGB formula to try and give it a wider ranging market. Intended to replace the Austin Healey Sprite, the MG MGC was launched in 1967 as a reworked version of the classic MGB, but featuring a 2.9L BMC C-Series engine to up the power.

 

The problem was that the revised design of the car to incorporate the engine was nothing short of lazy. Instead of redesigning the whole car, MG chose to simply create a huge bulbous lump in the bonnet. The heavier engine also required modifications to the suspension which spoiled the handling. As well as that, the engines were quite poorly built, and later tuning by enthusiasts has proven that the car has the ability to run with 30% more power by carrying out simple modifications to head, exhaust and cam release.

 

However, the MGC did find some love, in the Royal Family of all places, as in 1967, HRH Prince Charles took delivery of an MGC GT (SGY 766F), which he passed down to Prince William 30 years later. At least one car had a happy ending!

 

But soon problems came roaring over the horizon like the four horsemen of the apocalypse. A whirlwind of legislation, corporate incompetence and plain old lazy design came right out of nowhere and would soon engulf and attempt to destroy the MGB, but not before stripping the poor thing of its dignity and its good name.

 

The first disaster to befall this plucky little car, British Leyland, which was formed in 1968 by merging all of Britain's major automotive firms including Rover, BMC (Austin/Morris) and Triumph (which was part of the Leyland Group). To save on costs the lavish chrome grille of the earlier models and spoked wheels were the first to go, but the B could survive without them.

 

Next up, fitting the car with a Rover V8 that had been developed from a series of Buick Pickup Truck engines. Although this could have been a good thing, this wasn't British Leyland's idea, but in fact belong to professional engine tuner Ken Costello, who, although had been commissioned by British Leyland to create a prototype, had already created a series of MGB's with V8's placed under the hood. British Leyland half-inched this idea and started fitting their own V8's, but went about it all wrong. The powerful 180bhp engine used by Costello for his conversions was replaced for production by MG with a more modestly tuned version producing only 137bhp. Although the car's 193lb-ft of torque meant it could reach 0-60 in 7.7 seconds and go on to a reasonable 125mph top speed, it was a thirsty beast, with only 20mpg. A bit of a territorial hazard admittedly, but it's not a good idea to develop such a gas guzzling car when it was about to smack headlong into the Oil Crisis of 1973. Barely anyone went out and bought it, and the money simply disappeared down the nearest drain.

 

But so far, the car's lovable external dimensions had yet to be compromised, but we haven't got to the legislation yet, one of those many apocalyptic horsemen I was mentioning earlier. Throughout the 1960's the death of James Dean had resulted in a gradual increase in safety legislation on US Highways, and in order to have a market there, cars had to conform. The height of the headlights, the bumpers, the smoke emissions, the recess of the switches, all of these things were scrutinised and had to be taken into account by car builders.

 

Indeed America can be owed with introducing many safety features and pieces of legislation we take for granted in modern motoring, but the British manufacturers almost seemed to go out of their way to redesign the cars completely and 100% wrong. In 1974 the glistening chrome was replaced by a gigantic bulbous rubber bumper that protruded from the front of the car like someone's bottom lip!

 

Other signs of their poor design included the removal of leather seats for something much more mundane, the use of dials and switches from other products such as Austin Allegros and Maxis, as well as door handles that came straight from the Morris Marina.

 

Internally, British Leyland had botched it with their laziness, choosing not to redesign the car like everyone else so that the headlights were at the required height, but instead placing solid blocks under the suspension to raise the lights to the desired level, but at the same time making the car look like it was going permanently downhill as well as making the handling so light it would slide constantly at speed. The engines were tuned down for emission regulations which made them woefully underpowered and thus they, to use a contemporary phrase, 'couldn't pull the skin off a Rice Pudding!'

 

Numbers dropped, but British Leyland went to that old trick in the book by using product placement to get by, putting one of their new MGB's in the New Avengers to be driven by Joanna Lumley's character Purdey. As far as I recall though, low slung sports cars aren't the best things to drive if you're in a miniskirt, because getting in and out of them can be quite revealing!

 

But this wasn't enough to save the MGB's deteriorating sales, in America cars would languish in stockyards and storage warehouses for months on end waiting to be sold, but to no avail. For this, the MG division was making losses of up to £400,000 per week, a clear sign that the ailing MGB had to go the way of all good cars, out of production. On October 21st, 1980, the last MGB rolled off the production line after 18 years, no pomp, no circumstance, just quietly slipping away into history.

 

After this, the MG brand was lost from its own original cars such as the Midget and the MGB that dated back to the 60's, instead being placed on tuned and slightly modified versions of British Leyland's family cars, including the MG Montego, the MG Maestro and, to the everlasting horror of MG purists although I personally don't think it's that bad, the MG Metro. The factory in Abingdon-on-Thames, where the MGB had been built, closed its gates immediately afterwards as part of the company's rationalisation, striking a blow to the economy of the region and the esteem of those who had been proud to build cars with those two simple letters, MG.

 

But all was not lost for the MGB, as soon afterwards the cars became fashionably retro, especially in the 1980's and 90's, when 60's examples were bought up largely by foreign markets due to their quintessentially British nature and their synonymous relationship with our country and way of life. Japan especially was a hotspot for old MG products, with Midgets and MGB's being shipped out there by the dozen. So popular were these that Rover Group, the descendants of British Leyland, went on to create a limited edition retelling of the MGB in the form of the MG RV8, constructed in 1993 with 2,000 examples built, the first original MG car to be built since the original MGB ended production in 1980.

 

Here in the UK, the MG craze kicked off with enthusiasts taking scrapyard shells and run down models and turning them into their own little put-together projects. The MGB has now become one of the most popular little retro sports cars of the modern era, and despite all its faults, even the rubber-bumper British Leyland models make some fantastic kit cars if you want good, wholesome sport fun on a budget!

Lucas was a brilliant businessman who rose to the top of his industry through his cunning and ruthless tactics. He had a reputation for being a master of deception and manipulation, always telling people what they wanted to hear, regardless of the truth.

 

As the CEO of his company, Lucas was in charge of making important decisions that affected the lives of thousands of employees and the financial success of the company. However, his habit of lying and manipulating soon caught up with him.

 

Lucas would make promises to investors, clients, and employees that he knew he couldn't keep. He would exaggerate the company's successes and downplay its failures. He would take credit for other people's work and blame others when things went wrong.

 

Despite his reputation for lying, Lucas managed to maintain his position for years, thanks to his ability to charm and manipulate others. But as the company's financial situation started to decline, people began to question his leadership. Employees were frustrated with the lack of transparency, and investors were losing faith in the company's future.

 

As the situation worsened, Lucas continued to lie and deceive, making bold promises to turn things around. However, his lies were finally exposed when the company's finances were audited, and it was revealed that he had been cooking the books to hide the true extent of the company's losses....but he just get the next job and all workers lost their jobs.....

The International Sculpture Park in Ayia Napa, Republic of Cyprus, is a remarkable testament to the beauty and power of sculpture. Spanning several decades, the park's history is a story of artistic vision, cultural exchange, and the celebration of human creativity. In this essay, we will explore the fascinating journey of the International Sculpture Park, tracing its origins, evolution, and impact.

 

The idea for the International Sculpture Park was born in the early 1990s when a group of local artists and art enthusiasts in Ayia Napa recognized the potential of creating a dedicated space for large-scale sculptures. They envisioned a place where artists from around the world could come together to showcase their works and engage with the local community. With the support of the Ayia Napa municipality, the project began to take shape.

 

In 1994, the first edition of the International Sculpture Symposium was organized in Ayia Napa. This symposium brought together sculptors from different countries who collaborated to create a series of monumental sculptures. The event was a resounding success, attracting international attention and paving the way for the establishment of the International Sculpture Park.

 

In 1996, the park officially opened its doors to the public, becoming the first outdoor sculpture park in Cyprus. Situated on a vast expanse of land near the coast, the park provided a serene setting for the display of sculptures. Its location in Ayia Napa, a popular tourist destination, ensured a steady stream of visitors, both local and international, who could experience the power of sculpture in a unique environment.

 

Over the years, the International Sculpture Park grew in size and ambition. The annual sculpture symposium continued to be a highlight of the park's calendar, attracting renowned artists from all corners of the globe. These artists were invited to stay in Ayia Napa for a few weeks, during which they would create sculptures using various materials, such as stone, metal, and wood. The symposiums not only fostered artistic collaboration but also promoted cultural exchange and understanding among the participants.

 

Each year, the newly created sculptures were added to the park's permanent collection, enriching its aesthetic and conceptual diversity. The park soon became a haven for sculpture enthusiasts and art lovers, who could explore the outdoor space and engage with the artworks in a dynamic and immersive manner. The sculptures themselves ranged from abstract and avant-garde to figurative and representational, reflecting the diverse artistic styles and perspectives of the participating sculptors.

 

As the reputation of the International Sculpture Park grew, so did its impact on the local community and the broader cultural landscape of Cyprus. The park became a site for educational initiatives, offering workshops, lectures, and guided tours to students, artists, and the general public. It served as a platform for artistic experimentation and innovation, encouraging dialogue and critical thinking about the role of sculpture in contemporary society.

 

The International Sculpture Park also played a significant role in promoting Ayia Napa as a cultural destination. While the town was primarily known for its beaches and nightlife, the park added a new dimension to its identity, positioning it as a place where art and nature converge. The park's success inspired the development of other cultural projects in Ayia Napa, including art galleries, exhibitions, and public art installations, further enhancing the town's cultural appeal.

 

In recent years, the International Sculpture Park has continued to evolve and adapt to the changing artistic landscape. It has embraced new technologies and art forms, incorporating interactive and multimedia elements into its exhibitions. The park has also expanded its outreach efforts, forging partnerships with international sculpture parks and organizations to facilitate artist exchanges and collaborative projects.

 

Today, the International Sculpture Park stands as a testament to the power of art to transcend boundaries and connect people across cultures. Its collection of sculptures represents a diverse range of artistic expressions and narratives, providing a window into the human experience. The park continues to inspire and captivate visitors, offering a unique space for contemplation, exploration, and artistic enlightenment.

 

In conclusion, the International Sculpture Park in Ayia Napa, Republic of Cyprus, has emerged as a cultural landmark and a hub of artistic expression. From its humble beginnings as a local initiative to its current stature as an international platform for sculpture, the park has evolved and flourished over the years. Its impact on the local community, the art world, and the broader cultural landscape of Cyprus is immeasurable, making it a testament to the enduring power of sculpture as a form of human expression.

12:26 pm Friday Sep 18, 2009

by Jessica Suarez, Flavorwire

 

Yoko Ono was a musician long before she became Mrs. John Lennon. But Ono, now 76, never seemed very concerned with defending her own musical reputation, leaving it up to her detractors and cult fans to decide. Then, her 1981 dance-floor classic “Walking on Thin Ice” reached the top of the dance charts when it was re-released and remixed in 2003. Ono’s 2007 compilation, Yes, I’m a Witch, seemed to settle it, including covers of her songs by Cat Power, Antony, and the Flaming Lips, as well as others who cite Ono as an influence. Her new album, Between My Head and the Sky, comes full circle: it’s her first under the Plastic Ono Band moniker since 1975, and it features both her son Sean Lennon and other musicians indebted to her career.

 

Flavorpill: This is the first time you’ve used the “Plastic Ono Band” name in a while. Why did this feel like the right album?

Yoko Ono: Because John coined that name for me for the band. For the band that both John and I used, actually. But this time the Japanese [representative] of the Chimera Music company said, “Please use Plastic Ono Band.” Why would I do that? And he said it’s a good idea because this album is just as revolutionary as the albums I made with John. It’s not that kind of revolution, but it’s a quieter revolution. And Sean is involved in it, so the daddy did it with me, and now the son is involved in it with me.

 

What’s it like working with your son?

I was amazed because he’s the co-producer, and the thing is he’s the music director too. But the thing is I didn’t realize he was really serious about it. He was very good too. A very good producer, a very good music director. I just never expected that, so that was amazing. But then the thing is, most people said, “Why are you going to do this with your son? That’s very dangerous. That’s really bad!” So I was nervous. In the beginning when he said, why don’t we do it, mom? I thought, fine. And then when we started doing it, it was fine. We didn’t fight.

 

Well on one hand he’s your son, he has to listen to you, but on the other hand, he’s directing the album.

I’m finicky, so I could have gotten into a real big argument, but I thought, “Okay, let’s do this with good feelings.” I was determined to have an understanding about all different ways. You see what I mean. The thing is, I was so high and inspired and all that from day one, every day.

 

You must have been. An interview with Sean said you wrote and tracked six songs in a single day.

I didn’t think it was anything special. I’m one of those people that goes into the studio and I hear sounds. Even with the other records, I would come up with maybe an album’s worth and then then say, “Can we make a double at least.” And the record company will say don’t do it, cause we can’t sell it. We’re not selling too much anyway. They say no, no, no, we’re going to sell this album, so don’t do it. I could never do it.

 

How do you keep all your ideas straight for all your projects then? I mean musical, but also for your artwork too.

It’s better that I keep a notebook, but I don’t. I just put it in every paper that’s around. Napkins, tissues. You can’t use tissues too much because there’d be a big hole in it. But the point is, anything. A receipt or something.

 

You have to come up with an archiving system!

I should keep those things, but I don’t. It’s almost like a messy room. It will slow down your thinking. I throw them away when I’m finished with them.I shouldn’t do that, actually. Where did your ideas go? “It just went up in the air!”

 

Older versions of the Plastic Ono Band had some of the greatest rock musicians around — Eric Clapton, George Harrison, Keith Moon. This time you worked with some great, but young, Japanese musicians, like Cornelius and Yuka Honda. It’s such a big change.

I know, you see the thing is, I happen to be so lucky that I had great musicians with me. John was great, John’s friends were great. Yuka Honda, you know Cibo Matto, she’s Japanese. And Sean is half Japanese. I’m strictly Japanese. It was really interesting that way. Wow, this is Japanese rock. One of the reasons I thought it would be good to do it this way is Japanese rock is incredible now. Anything that’s happening in rock is happening in Japan now.

 

Your new album moves from lyrics that are very observational, to sort of basic, human, observations, like “I’m alive.”

[The first track] “Waiting for the D train” - D stands for death, so the thing is you’re waiting for death in a way. And while you’re waiting for death, a lot of things go on in your life. Separations or pain or some beautiful joy, all this stuff happens. And then in the end, the song called “Higa Noboru,” which means “The Sun is Rising.” After the D Train, the sun is down. And then the sun is rising, and I’m saying “I’m still alive.” It’s going into the new era, a new age. We’re gonna go to a new age together. That’s what it means.

 

It also starts out with a great dance track, “The Sun Is Down” and moves to something quieter, just you and piano.

That’s true, but it’s a kind of a meditative thing. You just go on and on and on. I was so amazed [at] how Sean was doing the piano. First of all, most of the songs were just done once. I’m doing it and Sean is doing it and Sean never stopped and corrected or anything. That long, long piano thing is just him from beginning to end. Isn’t it amazing? That’s how we worked. These are very professional musicians. And I am too. I don’t have to sing twice. It just went real fast that way.

 

Was your band’s writing and recording methods quite different from yours?

It’s almost mathematical. They’re scribbling notes and I’m looking at their notes, and they’re not musical notes and they’re not poetry, they’re usually numbers. They’re going through numbers. Because it’s a digital age. In the past when I was making an album, I’d be recording on a tape and then I can remix it on the board and all that. Even before remixing, you just record it in such a way that there are ups and downs and that kind of thing. That’s what I used to like to do, but now it’s digital, so you have to change your head a little. It was good that they were like that and I’m like this. The combo is very good.

 

It seems like your work has always been about jumping in right away.

John and I were very emotional, intuitive kinds of artists. We were spilling our emotions, so to speak. And this young generation, meaning Sean and Sean’s friends, they’re more like, it’s a head game. It’s not that emotional. The thing is, they would say, “Wow, you’re the fire! You’re adding fire to the group!” Yes, I’m the fire, but they’re like air. It was very good, the air and fire combo was very good.

 

In another interview you said that if John were alive today, he’d be saying, “I told you so.” How about you? What do you think you’ll be saying, “I told you so” about in five years?

I think that in the days when John and I were doing things, there were certain people who could play guitar, but that’s it. Nowadays, every guy can play guitar. Boys can play guitars. It’s like the whole world is starting to become musical. And the thing is, now we’re going to push it further with Beatles Rock Band, and what’s going to happen is not only will everybody play some instrument, but this planet is going to be a planet of music, and a planet of music is going to, through musical vibration, which is a very peaceful and meditative vibration anyway… They are going to create world peace and we’re going to send that peaceful energy and vibration to the universe. Is that a good prediction?

 

Further enhancing the Cadillac Motor Car Company's reputation for engineering leadership, the introduction of the innovative new eight-cylinder Model 51 marked Cadillac's first application of the V8 in standard production, mass-produced vehicle. Since that debut, the V8 engine has continued to remain as Cadillac's standard powerplant since, for an ‘unbroken span of more than 65 years'.

 

Cadillac chose to replace its outdated four-cylinder Model 30 with the 1915 V-8 Type 51. The model 30 had been running for four years and it was considered by some to be outdated, though it had an outstanding reputation for both durability and reliability. In 1914 sales for Cadillac plummeted, possibly due to other luxury makers were running with sixes. The Model 51 V8 was introduced by Cadillac founder Henry M. Leyland and featured an amazing 70 hp and a water-cooled V8 engine.

 

As the Edwardian Era was coming to a close, the elegance and innocence of that time was manufactured into the 'Landaulette' model. The stylish transformable coupe made the Model 51 a legend as it featured sophistication and style. Cadillac advertised the Model 51 as 'The Penalty of Leadership' in an ad campaign that wowed consumers. The Model 51 was produced in significant numbers and became a Cadillac trademark for decades.

 

For years Leyland had been experimenting with a variety of engine types, and as a result of all of his hard research, he came to the conclusion that V8 would be much more popular than a six. The compact nature of the v-type design also appealed to Leyland and in some instance the long crankshaft that characterized the inline sixes had a tendency to ‘whip at high rpm'. At the time, most luxury models had moved on to much more powerful six-cylinder engines, but Cadillac continued to sport its mundane four cylinder engine. The Model 51 was then debuted by the luxury department, powered by eight cylinders that wowed the public.

 

The V8 was a strange and unique design for those days, and many people hadn't even seen such an engine. Two French manufacturers had developed V8's more than a decade previously and had utilized them to power racing machines. In America, as early as 1906 Howard Marmon had demonstrated an air-cooled V8. In 1910 the French firm of DeDion had marketed a production V8. The Cadillac Model 51 offered the first commercially available V8 engine in 1914.

 

The Model 30 was the original vehicle that included an all-new Delco system and an electric start. No more were drivers concerned with jamming a thumb or breaking a limb when cranking their cars. Unfortunately, though the Model 51 was impressive, but it paled deeply when placed alongside the 1912 Cadillac Model 30. This top-of-the-line Cadillac was the most expensive vehicle that GM produced, and at 1921, the Model 51 was priced at $5,190.

 

During the 1915 model year alone, Cadillac produced more than 13,000 units of the Model 51, which was a very impressive number for the first year on the market. The Cadillac Roadster, the four-passenger Cadillac Salon, the five-passenger touring car, and the Cadillac Seven-Passenger vehicle were all priced at $1,975, while the Cadillac Coupe was priced at $2,500, the Sedan for five-passengers at $2,800, the standard Cadillac Limousine was priced at $3,450 and the top-line vehicle, the formal 'Berlin Limousine' was sold at $3,600.

 

[Text taken from Conceptcarz.com]

 

www.conceptcarz.com/vehicle/z16349/Cadillac-Model-51.aspx

 

This Lego miniland-scale 1915 Cadillac Type 51 Tourer has been created for Flickr LUGNuts' 88th Build Challenge, - "Let's go Break Some records", - for vehicles that set the bar (high or low) for any number of vehicles statistics or records. Or for a vehicle which achieves a notable first. In the case of the Cadillac Type 51 - this model was the first production car V8 engine.

+++ DISCLAIMER +++

Nothing you see here is real, even though the conversion or the presented background story might be based historical facts. BEWARE!

 

Some background:

The Martin B-26 Marauder was a World War II twin-engine medium bomber built by the Glenn L. Martin Company. First used in the Pacific Theater in early 1942, it was also used in the Mediterranean Theater and in Western Europe.

 

After entering service with the U.S. Army, the aircraft received the reputation of a "Widowmaker" due to the early models' high accident rate during takeoffs and landings. The Marauder had to be flown at exact airspeeds, particularly on final runway approach and when one engine was out. The 150 mph (241 km/h) speed on short final runway approach was intimidating to pilots who were used to much slower speeds, and whenever they slowed down below what the manual stated, the aircraft would stall and crash.

 

The B-26 became a safer aircraft once crews were re-trained, and after aerodynamics modifications (an increase of wingspan and wing angle-of-incidence to give better takeoff performance, and a larger vertical stabilizer and rudder). After aerodynamic and design changes, the aircraft distinguished itself as "the chief bombardment weapon on the Western Front" according to a United States Army Air Forces dispatch from 1946. The Marauder ended World War II with the lowest loss rate of any USAAF bomber.

 

A total of 5.288 were produced between February 1941 and March 1945. By the time the United States Air Force was created as an independent service separate from the Army in 1947, all Martin B-26s had been retired from U.S. service. Furthermore, after the end of hostilities in the European theatre of operations, many airframes with low flying hour numbers were left in British airfield.

 

This was the situation when establishing Hunting Aircraft in 1944 by the purchase of Percival Aircraft: this business was absorbed into the British Aircraft Corporation in 1959.

 

At the end of 1945 the young British company Hunting Air Travel Ltd., a division of Hunting plc., based at Luton Airport, entered the scene - actually a commercial airline, not an aircraft manufacturer. The new airline began commercial operations from Bovingdon Airport at the start of 1946, and the lack of suitable passenger aircraft for domestic routes (or to continental neighbors) led to a private conversion program for leftover B-26 airframes.

 

This work was done by Percival Aircraft Ltd, which had become part of Hunting in 1936 and also had its headquarter at Luton. At first, only five B-26B bombers were planned to be converted into P.26 airliners. The airframes underwent considerably changes, primarily stripping them off of any military equipment, closing the bomb bays and adding a passenger cabin with appropriate seating and entry.

 

Furthermore, the bombers' original R-2800 engines were replaced by more powerful and efficient R-3350 radials with 2.000 hp/1.470 kW each. This was a simple task, since this engine had been an early design options and the mountings were compatible.

 

Other modifications included an enlarged wingspan, which was intended for a more economical flight as well as a reduced landing speed, especially when loaded.

 

The revamped aircraft entered service in 1951 when Hunting Air Travel changed its name to Hunting Air Transport. Flying primarily on the British Isles, the aircraft attained immediately some interest from other small airlines, also from continental Europe.

 

When Percival Aircraft Ltd changed its name to Hunting Percival Aircraft in 1954, a total of 21 B-26 bombers had been converted for Hunting-Clan Air Transport (6, Hunting Air Transport had changed its name in 1953), Aer Lingus (6), Derby Airlines (4), Sabena (3) and Manx Airlines (2).

 

All of these differed slightly, being tailored to their operators' needs, e. g. concerning seat capacity, engines or entry configurations. The last machines were re-built for Aer Lingus, with 27 passenger seats (nine rows in 2+1 configuration), a crew of four, and integral boarding ladder under the rear fuselage (instead of standard side doors). Furthermore, these final machines were driven by slightly more powerful (2.200 hp/1.640 kW) turbo-compound R-3350 engines, which offered a considerably improved fuel efficiency and an extended range (+20%).

 

By that time the civil aircraft industry had undergone a major recovery and new models like the turboprop-driven Fokker F.27 Friendship entered the scene - faster, with bigger passenger capacities and more efficient, and the P.26 could not keep up anymore. Another big weakness was the lack of a pressurized cabin, so that the P.26 could only operate at medium altitude. Until 1960 all remaining P.26 were withdrawn and scrapped, most of them had reached their service life, anyway, but operational costs had become prohibitive.

 

General characteristics:

Crew: 4 (pilot, navigator/radio operator, two service)

Capacity: 21–32 passengers

Length: 58 ft 3 in (17.8 m)

Wingspan: 79 ft 3 in (24.20 m)

Height: 21 ft 6 in (6.55 m)

Wing area: 734 ft² (66 m²)

Empty weight: 24.000 lb (11.000 kg)

Loaded weight: 37.000 lb (17.000 kg)

Powerplant:

2× Wright R-3350-745C18BA-1 radial, each rated at 2.200 hp (1.640 kW),

driving four-bladed propellers

 

Performance:

Maximum speed: 287 mph (250 knots, 460 km/h) at 5.000 feet (1.500 m)

Cruise speed: 225 mph (195 knots, 362 km/h)

Landing speed: 100 mph (79 knots, 161 km/h)

Range: 3.420 mi (2.975 nmi; 5.500 km)

Service ceiling: 21.000 ft (6.400 m)

Wing loading: 46,4 lb/ft² (228 kg/m²)

  

The kit and its assembly:

Another Group Build entry, this time for the 2015 "De-/Militarize it" GB at whatifmodelers.com that ran from June through August. I am not 100% certain how the idea of converting a B-26 bomber into a 50ies airliner came up - I have modified the aircraft before, and maybe handling with resin R-3350s for the Supermarine Stalwart flying boat had a subtle influence. However, it was a suitable idea, and I quickly got hands on a vintage Matchbox kit of the Marauder.

 

This one was chose because of the simplicity of the kit (e .g. without an open bomb bay) and its relatively clean surface. When I got it, though, I had to cope with missing parts: the complete cockpit was missing. The seller did not mention it, I did notice it too late, so I had to create the interior from scratch, as well as the civil pilot figures which were puzzled together, too.

Anyway, conversion was rather straightforward. All guns and turrets were closed/faired over. The dorsal turret received a plug, the nose is the OOB clear part hidden under a coat of putty and the new tail cone is actually a nose from a Frog Supermarine Attacker.

 

Additionally, some of the original windows were hidden (including the ventral entry hatch) while new round windows, esp. for the passenger cabin under the wing spar, were drilled. They were later filled with Clearfix, after all paint work was done.

 

The wing tips were enlarged with donations from a Hobby Boss La-7 pistion fighter, leftover from a former conversion project. Even though I did not expect much from this addition I think that the bigger wingspan (the total extension is less than 2", though) and the more pointed tips subtly change the look and the proportions of the B-26?

 

The OOB engines were replaced by resin R-3350 from Contrails: a perfect match, just the OOB nacelles had to be shortened because the R-3350s come with a complete exhaust section, they are pretty long compared to the R-2800s. Actually, this option was real: AFAIK the R-3350 was a high power alternative for the B-26, but I think that at the time of the aircraft's design it was not available yet, and when it came into production the B-29 received anything that rolled off of the production lines. But in this post WWII case it's a good and plausible modification, since airliners from that era (e .g. the Lockheed Constellation) were powered by this engine type, too.

 

Further mods include new wheels (just for a modernized look, instead of the WWII grass runway balloon tires) and the passengers received a retractable boarding staircase. This addition was originally intended as a display trick, because the B-26 kit is prone to tip over on its tail. But it turned out that the resin engines weigh so much that the kit even stands without extra weight inside now! Well, the scratched stair was fitted, anyway...

  

Painting and markings:

This was a bit complicated, because I wanted a 50ies livery, yet a colorful option. One early choice had been Belgian airline Sabena in dark blue and white, or the Netherland's KLM, but then I stumbled across a limited decal sheet from airliner specialist TwoSix Decals for a 1:72 Fokker F.27 in Aer Lingus service, upon the type's introduction in 1955. Perfect match, and since I like green and I could avoid white as far as possible, this was the winning design! :D

 

From that, things were again straightforward: the paint scheme remains close to the benchmark. The dark green on the upper fuselage is Humbrol 3 (Brunswick Green), the fin was sprayed in white and the metallic undersides were painted with different aluminum shades, including Revell Acrylics, Modelmaster 'Aluminum Plate' Metallizer and simple Aluminum paint, plus some Humbrol 56 for fake panel lines and the fabric-covered ailerons.

 

Panel lines on the upper fuselage and some dirt were painted with Humbrol 91 (Black Green). On top of that a very light black ink wash was applied in order to emphasize engravings, esp. on the wings and the white fin.

 

The decals came next (wonderfully printed, dead sharp, very thin carrier film), and they posed less problems than expected. The window openings on the white cheatline were simply covered and punched through, and after final cosmetic touch-ups incl. light soot stains behind the engine exhausts. I also added de-icing leading edges and some walking areas on the wings, cut from black and grey decals sheet (from TL Modellbau).

 

Finally the kit received a coat of glossy acrylic varnish from the rattle can (which did not turn out as evenly as expected, I guess to due to the age of the paint… The aircraft looks somewhat dirty now), et voilà, the Irish Marauder Commuter was ready for take-off!

  

I am really happy how this conversion turned out. I have seen pics of civilized B-26s (yes, this was actually done, but only in a few cases), and without all the lumps and bumps and with a decent paint job the aircraft looks really sleek and elegant. The classic, early Aer Lingus livery confirms this, a pretty and unusual bird!

The Marble Arch is a 19th-century white marble-faced triumphal arch in London, England. The structure was designed by John Nash in 1827 as the state entrance to the cour d'honneur of Buckingham Palace; it stood near the site of what is today the three-bayed, central projection of the palace containing the well-known balcony. In 1851, on the initiative of architect and urban planner Decimus Burton, a one-time pupil of John Nash, the arch was relocated to its current site, near the northeast corner of Hyde Park, so that expansion of Buckingham Palace could proceed.

 

The arch gives its name to the area surrounding it, particularly the southern portion of Edgware Road and also to the underground station. The arch is not part of the Royal Parks and is maintained by Westminster City Council.

 

Design and construction

Nash's three-arch design is based on that of the Arch of Constantine in Rome and the Arc de Triomphe du Carrousel in Paris. The triumphal arch is faced with Carrara marble with embellishments of marble extracted from quarries near Seravezza in Tuscany.

 

John Flaxman was chosen to make the commemorative sculpture. After his death in 1826, the commission was divided between Sir Richard Westmacott, Edward Hodges Baily and J. C. F. Rossi. In 1829, a bronze equestrian statue of George IV was commissioned from Sir Francis Chantrey, with the intention of placing it on top of the arch.

 

Construction began in 1827, but was cut short in 1830, following the death of the spendthrift King George IV – the rising costs were unacceptable to the new king, William IV, who later tried to offload the uncompleted palace onto Parliament as a substitute for the recently destroyed Palace of Westminster.

 

Work restarted in 1832, this time under the supervision of Edward Blore, who greatly reduced Nash's planned attic stage and omitted its sculpture, including the statue of George IV. The arch was completed in 1833.

 

Some of the unused sculpture, including parts of Westmacott's frieze of Waterloo and the Nelson panels, were used at Buckingham Palace. His victory statues and Rossi's relief of Europe and Asia were used at the National Gallery. In 1843 the equestrian statue of George IV was installed on one of the pedestals in Trafalgar Square.

 

The white marble soon lost its light colouring in the polluted London atmosphere. In 1847, Sharpe's London Magazine described it as "discoloured by smoke and damp, and in appearance resembling a huge sugar erection in a confectioner's shop window."

 

The arch is 45 feet (14 m) high, and measures 60 by 30 feet (18.3 by 9.1 m) east-west by north–south.

 

Relocation

Buckingham Palace remained unoccupied, and for the most part unfinished, until it was hurriedly completed upon the accession of Queen Victoria in 1837. Within a few years, the palace was found to be too small for the large court and the Queen's expanding family. The solution was to enlarge the palace by enclosing the cour d'honneur with a new east range. This façade is today the principal front and public face of the palace and shields the inner façades containing friezes and marbles matching and complementing those of the arch.

 

When building work began in 1847, the arch was dismantled and rebuilt by Thomas Cubitt as a ceremonial entrance to the northeast corner of Hyde Park at Cumberland Gate. The reconstruction was completed in March 1851. A popular story says that the arch was moved because it was too narrow for the Queen's state coach to pass through, but, in fact, the Gold State Coach passed under it during Elizabeth II's coronation in 1953

 

Three small rooms inside the rebuilt arch were used as a police station from 1851 until at least 1968 (John Betjeman made a programme inside it in 1968 and referred to it as a fully functional police station). It firstly housed officers of the Royal Parks Constabulary and later the Metropolitan Police. One policeman stationed there during the early 1860s was Samuel Parkes, who won the Victoria Cross in the Charge of the Light Brigade in 1854, during the Crimean War.

 

Park Lane widening

Park Lane was widened as part of the Park Lane Improvement Scheme of the London County Council, and the Marble Arch became stranded on a traffic island. The scheme required an act of Parliament – the Park Lane Improvement Act 1958 (6 & 7 Eliz. 2. c. 63) – and during the passage of this act the possibility of providing an underpass instead of a roundabout was dismissed due to excessive cost and the need to demolish buildings on Edgware Road. As part of the scheme, gardens were laid out around the arch on the traffic island. The works took place between 1960 and 1964.

 

Still Water, a large bronze sculpture of a horse's head by Nic Fiddian-Green, was unveiled on the same traffic island a short distance from the arch in 2011.

 

In 2005 it was speculated that the arch might be moved across the street to Hyde Park, or to a more accessible location than its position on what was then a large traffic island.

 

Marble Arch area

In 1900 the Central London Railway opened Marble Arch tube station across the road from the arch. The station is now on the Central line of the London Underground.

 

Having a tube station means that the arch gives rise to a colloquial, entirely modern London "area", with no parishes or established institutions bearing its name. This generally equates to parts in view of the arch of Mayfair, Marylebone and often all of St George's Fields, Marylebone (west of Edgware Road) all in the City of Westminster, London, W1H.

 

The area around the arch forms a major road junction connecting Oxford Street to the east, Park Lane (A4202) to the south, Bayswater Road (A402) to the west, and Edgware Road (A5) to the north-west. The short road directly to the north of the arch is also known as Marble Arch.

 

The former cinema Odeon Marble Arch was located directly adjacent to the junction. Before 1997 this had the largest cinema screen in London. The screen was originally over 75 feet (23 m) wide. The Odeon showcased 70 mm films in a large circle-and-stalls auditorium. It closed in 2016 and was demolished later that same year.

 

The arch also stands close to the former site of the Tyburn gallows (sometimes called "Tyburn Tree"), a place of public execution from 1388 until 1793.

 

In 2021 the Marble Arch Mound, a temporary viewing platform, was opened at the site.

 

John Nash (18 January 1752 – 13 May 1835) was one of the foremost British architects of the Georgian and Regency eras, during which he was responsible for the design, in the neoclassical and picturesque styles, of many important areas of London. His designs were financed by the Prince Regent and by the era's most successful property developer, James Burton. Nash also collaborated extensively with Burton's son, Decimus Burton.

 

Nash's best-known solo designs are the Royal Pavilion, Brighton; Marble Arch; and Buckingham Palace. His best-known collaboration with James Burton is Regent Street and his best-known collaborations with Decimus Burton are Regent's Park and its terraces and Carlton House Terrace. The majority of his buildings, including those that the Burtons did not contribute to, were built by James Burton's company.

 

Background and early career

Nash was born in 1752, probably in Lambeth, south London. His father was a millwright also called John (1714–1772). From 1766 or 1767, Nash trained with the architect Sir Robert Taylor. The apprenticeship was completed in 1775 or 1776.

 

On 28 April 1775, at the now-demolished church of St Mary Newington, Nash married his first wife Jane Elizabeth Kerr, daughter of a surgeon Initially, he seems to have pursued a career as a surveyor, builder and carpenter. This gave him an income of around £300 a year (~£49,850 in 2020 money). The couple set up home at Royal Row, Lambeth. He established his own architectural practice in 1777 as well as being in partnership with a timber merchant, Richard Heaviside. The couple had two children, both were baptised at St Mary-at-Lambeth, John on 9 June 1776 and Hugh on 28 April 1778. In June 1778, Nash, "by the ill conduct of his wife found it necessary to send her into Wales in order to work a reformation on her." The cause of this appears to have been the claim that Jane Nash, "had imposed two spurious children on him as his and her own, notwithstanding she had then never had any child", and she had contracted several debts unknown to her husband, including one for milliners' bills of £300. The claim that Jane had faked her pregnancies and then passed babies she had acquired off as her own was brought before the Consistory court of the Bishop of London. His wife was sent to Aberavon to lodge with Nash's cousin, Ann Morgan, but she developed a relationship with a local man, Charles Charles. In an attempt at reconciliation, Jane returned to London in June 1779, but she continued to act extravagantly so he sent her to another cousin, Thomas Edwards of Neath. She gave birth just after Christmas and acknowledged Charles Charles as the father. In 1781, Nash instigated action against Jane for separation on grounds of adultery. The case was tried at Hereford in 1782, Charles who was found guilty was unable to pay the damages of £76 (~£13,200 in 2020 money) and subsequently died in prison. The divorce was finally read 26 January 1787.

 

His career was initially unsuccessful and short-lived. After inheriting £1000 (~£162,000 in 2020 money) in 1778 from his uncle Thomas, he invested the money in his first independent works, 15–17 Bloomsbury Square and 66–71 Great Russell Street in Bloomsbury. However, the property failed to let and he was declared bankrupt on 30 September 1783. His debts were £5000 (~£760,000 in 2020 money), including £2000 he had been lent by Robert Adam and his brothers. A blue plaque commemorating Nash was placed on 66 Great Russell Street by English Heritage in 2013.

 

Wales

Nash left London in 1784 to live in Carmarthen,[10] to where his mother had retired, her family being from the area.[17] In 1785 he and a local man, Samuel Simon Saxon, re-roofed the town's church for 600 guineas. Nash and Saxon seem to have worked as building contractors and suppliers of building materials. Nash's London buildings had been standard Georgian terraced houses, and it was in Wales that he matured as an architect. His first major work in the area was the first of three prisons he would design, Carmarthen 1789–92. This was planned by the penal reformer John Howard and Nash developed this into the finished building. He went on to design the prisons at Cardigan (1791–1796) and Hereford (1792–1796). It was at Hereford that Nash met Richard Payne Knight, whose theories on the picturesque as applied to architecture and landscape would influence Nash. The commission for Hereford Gaol came after the death of William Blackburn, who was to have designed the building. Nash's design was accepted after James Wyatt approved of the design.

 

In 1789, St Davids Cathedral was suffering from structural problems, the west front was leaning forward by one foot, Nash was called in to survey the structure and develop a plan to save the building. His solution completed in 1791, was to demolish the upper part of the façade and rebuild it with two large but inelegant flying buttresses. In 1790 Nash met Uvedale Price, of Downtown Castle, whose theories of the Picturesque would influence Nash's town planning. Price commissioned Nash to design Castle House Aberystwyth (1795). Its plan took the form of a right-angled triangle, with an octagonal tower at each corner, sited on the very edge of the sea.

 

One of Nash's most important developments were a series of medium-sized country houses that he designed in Wales, which developed the villa designs of his teacher Sir Robert Taylor. Most of these villas consist of a roughly square plan with a small entrance hall and a staircase offset in the middle to one side, around which are placed the main rooms. There is then a less prominent servants' quarters in a wing attached to one side of the villa. The buildings are usually only two floors in height and the elevations of the main block are usually symmetrical. One of the finest of these villas is Llanerchaeron, but at least a dozen villas were designed throughout south Wales. Others, in Pembrokeshire, include Ffynone, built for the Colby family at Boncath near Manordeifi, and Foley House, built for the lawyer Richard Foley (brother of Admiral Sir Thomas Foley) at Goat Street in Haverfordwest.

 

From 1796, Nash spent most of his time working in London; this was a prelude to his return to the capital in 1797. At this time, Nash designed the delicate Gothic revival gateway to Clytha Park near Abergavenny in Monmouthshire, and also his alterations in Gothic Revival style in 1794 to Hafod Uchtryd for Thomas Johnes at Devil's Bridge, Cardiganshire. Also in c. 1794–95 he advised on the paving, lighting and water supply in Abergavenny and designed an elegant market building. Other work included Whitson Court near Newport. After his return to London, Nash continued to design houses in Wales including Harpton Court in Radnorshire, which was demolished, apart from the service wing, in 1956. In 1807 he drew up plans for the re-building of Hawarden Castle with Gothic battlements and towers, but the plan appears to have been modified by another architect when it was carried out. About 1808 he designed Monachty near Aberaeron and later drew up plans for work at Nanteos.

 

He met Humphry Repton at Stoke Edith in 1792 and formed a successful partnership with the landscape garden designer. One of their early commissions was at Corsham Court in 1795–96. The pair would collaborate to carefully place the Nash-designed building in grounds designed by Repton. The partnership ended in 1800 under recriminations, Repton accusing Nash of exploiting their partnership to his own advantage. As Nash developed his architectural practice it became necessary to employ draughtsmen; the first in the early 1790s was Augustus Charles Pugin, and later in 1795, John Adey Repton son of Humphry.

 

Return to London

In June 1797, Nash moved into 28 Dover Street, a building of his own design. He built a larger house next door at 29, into which he moved the following year. Nash married 25-year-old Mary Anne Bradley on 17 December 1798 at St George's, Hanover Square. In 1798, he purchased a plot of land of 30 acres (12 ha) at East Cowes on which he erected 1798–1802 East Cowes Castle as his residence. It was the first of a series of picturesque Gothic castles that he would design.

 

Nash's final home in London was 14 Regent Street which he designed and built 1819–23. Number 16 was built at the same time for the home of Nash's cousin John Edwards, a lawyer who handled all of Nash's legal affairs. Located in lower Regent Street, near Waterloo Place, both houses formed a single design around an open courtyard. Nash's drawing office was on the ground floor and on the first floor was the finest room in the house, the 70-foot-long picture and sculpture gallery; it linked the drawing-room at the front of the building with the dining room at the rear. The house was sold in 1834 and the gallery interior moved to East Cowes Castle.

 

The finest of the dozen country houses that Nash designed as picturesque castles include the relatively small Luscombe Castle Devon (1800–04); Ravensworth Castle (Tyne and Wear), begun in 1807 but only finally completed in 1846, which was one of the largest houses by Nash; Caerhays Castle in Cornwall (1808–10); and Shanbally Castle, County Tipperary (1818–1819), which was the last of these castles to be built. These buildings all represented Nash's continuing development of an asymmetrical and picturesque architectural style that had begun during his years in Wales, at both Castle House Aberystwyth and his alterations to Hafod Uchtryd.

 

This process would be extended by Nash in planning groups of buildings, the first example being Blaise Hamlet (1810–1811). There a group of nine asymmetrical cottages was laid out around a village green. Nikolaus Pevsner described the hamlet as "the ne plus ultra of the Picturesque movement". The hamlet has also been described as the first fully realized exemplar of the garden suburb. Nash developed the asymmetry of his castles in his Italianate villas. His first such exercise was Cronkhill (1802), and others included Sandridge Park (1805) and Southborough Place, Surbiton(1808).

 

He advised on work to the buildings of Jesus College, Oxford, in 1815, for which he required no fee but asked that the college commission a portrait of him from Sir Thomas Lawrence to hang in the college hall.

 

Architect to the Prince Regent

Nash was a dedicated Whig and was a friend of Charles James Fox through whom Nash probably came to the attention of the Prince Regent (later King George IV). In 1806 Nash was appointed architect to the Surveyor General of Woods, Forests, Parks, and Chases. From 1810 Nash would take very few private commissions and for the rest of his career he would largely work for the Prince. His employment by the Prince Regent enabled Nash to embark upon a number of grand architectural projects.

 

His first major commissions in (1809–1826) from the Prince were Regent Street and the development of an area then known as Marylebone Park. With the Regent's backing, Nash created a master plan for the area, put into effect from 1818 onwards, which stretched from St James's northwards and included Regent Street, Regent's Park (1809–1832) and its neighbouring streets, terraces and crescents of elegant townhouses and villas. Nash did not design all the buildings himself. In some instances, these were left in the hands of other architects such as James Pennethorne and the young Decimus Burton.

 

Nash went on to re-landscape St. James's Park (1814–1827), reshaping the formal canal into the present lake, and giving the park its present form. A characteristic of Nash's plan for Regent Street was that it followed an irregular path linking Portland Place to the north with Carlton House, London (replaced by Nash's Carlton House Terrace (1827–1833) to the south. At the northern end of Portland Place Nash designed Park Crescent, London (1812 and 1819–1821), this opens into Nash's Park Square, London (1823–24), this only has terraces on the east and west, the north opens into Regent's Park.

 

The terraces that Nash designed around Regent's Park though conforming to the earlier form of appearing as a single building, as developed by John Wood, the Elder, are unlike earlier examples set in gardens and are not orthogonal in their placing to each other. This was part of Nash's development of planning, this found it is a most extreme example when he set out Park Village East and Park Village West (1823–34) to the north-east of Regent's Park, here a mixture of detached villas, semi-detached houses, both symmetrical and asymmetrical in their design are set out in private gardens railed off from the street, the roads loop and the buildings are both classical and gothic in style. No two buildings were the same, and or even in line with their neighbours. The park villages can be seen as the prototype for the Victorian suburbs.

 

Nash was employed by the Prince from 1815 to develop his Marine Pavilion in Brighton, originally designed by Henry Holland. By 1822 Nash had finished his work on the Marine Pavilion, which was now transformed into the Royal Pavilion. The exterior was based on Mughal architecture, giving the building its exotic form, the Chinoiserie style interiors are largely the work of Frederick Crace.

 

Nash was also a director of the Regent's Canal Company set up in 1812 to provide a canal link from west London to the River Thames in the east. Nash's master plan provided for the canal to run around the northern edge of Regent's Park; as with other projects, he left its execution to one of his assistants, in this case James Morgan. The first phase of the Regent's Canal was completed in 1816 and finally completed in 1820.

 

Together with Robert Smirke and Sir John Soane, he became an official architect to the Office of Works in 1813 (although the appointment ended in 1832) at a salary of £500 per annum (£57,810 in 2020 money). Following the death in September of that year of James Wyatt, this marked the high point in his professional life. As part of Nash's new position, he was invited to advise the Parliamentary Commissioners on the building of new churches from 1818 onwards. Nash produced ten church designs, each estimated to cost around £10,000 (£1.2 million in 2020 money) with seating for 2000 people; the style of the buildings were both classical and gothic. In the end, Nash only built two churches for the Commission: the classical All Souls Church, Langham Place (1822–24), terminating the northern end of Regent Street, and the gothic St. Mary's Haggerston (1825–27), bombed during The Blitz in 1941.

 

Nash was involved in the design of two of London's theatres, both in Haymarket. The King's Opera House (now rebuilt as Her Majesty's Theatre) (1816–1818) where he and George Repton remodelled the theatre, with arcades and shops around three sides of the building, the fourth being the still surviving Royal Opera Arcade. The other theatre was the Theatre Royal Haymarket (1821), with its fine hexastyle Corinthian order portico, which still survives, facing down Charles II Street to St. James's Square, Nash's interior no longer survives (the interior now dates from 1904). In 1820 a scandal broke, when a cartoon was published showing a half-dressed King George IV embracing Nash's wife with a speech bubble coming from the King's mouth containing the words "I have great pleasure in visiting this part of my dominions". Whether this was based on just a rumour put about by people who resented Nash's success or if there is substance behind is not known. Further London commissions for Nash followed, including the remodelling of Buckingham House to create Buckingham Palace (1825–1830), and for the Royal Mews (1822–24) and Marble Arch (1828). The arch was originally designed as a triumphal arch to stand at the entrance to Buckingham Palace. It was moved when the east wing of the palace designed by Edward Blore was built, at the request of Queen Victoria whose growing family required additional domestic space. Marble Arch became the entrance to Hyde Park and the Great Exhibition.

 

Work with James and Decimus Burton

The parents of John Nash, and Nash himself during his childhood, lived in Southwark, where James Burton worked as an 'Architect and Builder' and developed a positive reputation for prescient speculative building between 1785 and 1792. Burton built the Blackfriars Rotunda in Great Surrey Street (now Blackfriars Road) to house the Leverian Museum, for land agent and museum proprietor James Parkinson. However, whereas Burton was vigorously industrious, and quickly became 'most gratifyingly rich', Nash's early years in private practice, and his first speculative developments, which failed either to sell or let, were unsuccessful, and his consequent financial shortage was exacerbated by the 'crazily extravagant' wife whom he had married before he had completed his training, until he was declared bankrupt in 1783.

 

To repair his finances, Nash cultivated the acquaintance of James Burton, who consented to patronize him. James Burton responsible for the social and financial patronage of the majority of Nash's London designs, in addition to for their construction. Architectural scholar Guy Williams has written, "John Nash relied on James Burton for moral and financial support in his great enterprises. Decimus had showed precocious talent as a draughtsman and as an exponent of the classical style... John Nash needed the son's aid, as well as the father's".

 

Subsequent to the Crown Estate's refusal to finance them, James Burton agreed to personally finance the construction projects of Nash at Regent's Park, which he had already been commissioned to construct. Consequently, in 1816, Burton purchased many of the leases of the proposed terraces around, and proposed villas within, Regent's Park and, in 1817, Burton purchased the leases of five of the largest blocks on Regent Street. The first property to be constructed in or around Regent's Park by Burton was his own mansion: The Holme, which was designed by his son, Decimus Burton, and completed in 1818. Burton's extensive financial involvement 'effectively guaranteed the success of the project'. In return, Nash agreed to promote the career of Decimus Burton.

 

Nash was a vehement advocate of the neoclassical revival endorsed by John Soane, although he had lost interest in the plain stone edifices typical of the Georgian style, and instead advocated the use of stucco. Decimus Burton entered the office of Nash in 1815, where he worked alongside Augustus Charles Pugin, who detested the neoclassical style. Burton established his own architectural practice in 1821. In 1821, Nash invited Decimus Burton to design Cornwall Terrace in Regent's Park, and he was also invited by George Bellas Greenough, a close friend of the Prince Regent, Humphry Davy, and Nash, to design Grove House in Regent's Park.

 

Greenough's invitation to Decimus Burton was 'virtually a family affair', for Greenough had dined frequently with Decimus' parents and brothers, including the physician Henry Burton. Greenough and Decimus finalized their designs during numerous meetings at the opera. The design, when the villa had been completed, was described in The Proceedings of the Royal Society as, "one of the most elegant and successful adaptations of the Grecian style to purposes of modern domestic architecture to be found in this or any country."

 

Subsequently, Nash invited Decimus to design Clarence Terrace, Regent's Park. Such were Decimus Burton's contributions to the Regent's Park project that the Commissioners of Woods described Burton, not Nash, as 'the architect of Regent's Park'. Contrary to popular belief, the dominant architectural influence in many of the Regent's Park projects - including Cornwall Terrace, York Terrace, Chester Terrace, Clarence Terrace, and the villas of the Inner Circle, including The Holme and the London Colosseum attraction (the latter to Thomas Hornor's specifications) all of which were constructed by James Burton's company - was Decimus Burton, not John Nash, who was appointed architectural 'overseer' for Burton Jr.'s projects.

 

Decimus Burton, to Nash's chagrin, developed the Terraces according to his own style to the extent that Nash sought, unsuccessfully, to demolish and completely rebuild Chester Terrace. Decimus subsequently eclipsed his master and emerged as the dominant force in the design of Carlton House Terrace, where he exclusively designed No. 3 and No. 4. He also designed some of the villas of the Inner Circle: his villa for the Marquess of Hertford has been described as, 'decorated simplicity, such as the hand of taste, aided by the purse of wealth can alone execute'.

 

Retirement and death

Nash's career effectively ended with the death of George IV in 1830. The King's notorious extravagance had generated much resentment, and Nash was now without a protector. The Treasury started to look closely at the cost of Buckingham Palace. Nash's original estimate of the building's cost had been £252,690, but this had risen to £496,169 in 1829; the actual cost was £613,269 (~£69.5 million in 2020 money), and the building was still unfinished. This controversy ensured that Nash would not receive any more official commissions, nor would he be awarded the knighthood that other contemporary architects such as Jeffry Wyattville, John Soane and Robert Smirke received. Nash retired to the Isle of Wight to his home, East Cowes Castle.

 

On 28 March 1835 Nash was described as "very poorly and faint". This was the beginning of the end. On 1 May Nash's solicitor John Wittet Lyon was summonsed to East Cowes Castle to finalise his will. By 6 May he was described as 'very ill indeed all day', he died at his home on 13 May 1835. His funeral took place at St. James's Church, East Cowes on 20 May, where he was buried in the churchyard with a monument in the form of a stone sarcophagus. His widow acted to clear Nash's debts (some £15,000; £1.97 million in 2020 money), she held a sale of the Castle's contents, including three paintings by J. M. W. Turner painted on the Isle of Wight, four by Benjamin West and several copies of old master paintings by Richard Evans. These artworks were sold at Christie's on 11 July 1835 for £1,061 (~£139,500 in 2020 money). His books, medals, drawings and engravings were bought by a bookseller named Evans for £1,423 on 15 July (~£187,078 in 2020 money). The Castle itself was sold for a reported figure of £20,000 (~£2.63 million in 2020 money) to Henry Boyle, 3rd Earl of Shannon, within the year. Nash's widow retired to a property Nash had bequeathed to her in Hampstead where she lived until her death in 1851; she was buried with her husband on the Isle of Wight.

 

Assistants and pupils

Nash had many pupils and assistants, including Decimus Burton; Humphry Repton's sons, John Adey Repton and George Stanley Repton; Anthony Salvin; John Foulon (1772–1842); Augustus Charles Pugin; F.H. Greenway; James Morgan; James Pennethorne; and the brothers Henry, James, and George Pain.

==Slabside Penitentiary==

 

9000 miles away from Gotham City, in the middle of Antarctica, lies the most remote prison on Earth. Nicknamed The Slab, Slabside Penitentiary is a sprawling, concrete supermax designed to hold the most volatile, the most powerful and the most persuasive metahumans on Earth. However, contrary to its longstanding reputation, its security has been lacking as of late. Once Arkham City fell, the prison became the de facto facility for housing costumed criminals of all classes and levels of notoriety. Like a curse, it also inherited all of Arkham’s past problems. Six months ago, the mercenary Deathstroke breached the prison and released Onomatopoeia to silence former Gotham Mayor Marion Grange. Onomatopoeia succeeded in silencing Grange, and himself, when he blew the two of them apart with an explosive vest during a confrontation with Drury Walker. Four months later, Walker returned to Slabside to recruit one of its more peculiar inmates for a time-crossing mission. It didn’t end well. Walker got cold feet, and his prospective partner got a full-body cast, courtesy of Zoom. Then, less than twelve hours ago, Kite-Man entered Slabside alone, to secure The Riddler’s assistance in an impending assault on Arkham.

 

That brings us to now: an isolated inmate lies dormant in his hospital bed; his face submerged under a mass of white bandages. A plastic analogue clock hung above him, steadily ticking on. A half-full cup of water sat on his bedside table, alongside a disorganised stack of pills, tablets and other medicines. A chart was affixed to the end of the bed with the name ‘David Clinton’ scrawled on it in the typical, messy handwriting of a prison doctor. Closed eyelids scrunched tighter, as though the inmate was suffering particularly potent night terrors.

 

He was about to be.

 

The faintest hum of a teleport echoed down the hallway, ignored by the overworked, underpaid skeleton crew on this floor. Black boots glided silently along the ground, edging closer towards the bed whilst the inmate slept on. A black gauntlet took hold of the plastic cup, then splashed its contents into the inmate’s face, jolting him awake. Blue eyes slammed open suddenly, then relaxed at the sight of the intruder. Another man would have flinched at the shrouded, grim silhouette of The Batman at the foot of their bed; many so-called ‘tough guys’ would have screamed. Instead, the inmate took a tissue out of the bedside box and, unfazed, began mopping up the water.

 

“What time is it?” an ethereal voice escaped the white wrappings.

 

“You would know better than me,” The Batman replied. “Wouldn’t you?”

 

The inmate uttered a single, mirthless “hah!” as his electric blue eyes narrowed. The damp tissue scrunched up into a ball in his grip. “It’s late; that much I know. Too late for a Gothamite, even one with hours as irregular as yours... Which means this must be urgent.”

 

The Batman’s silence betrayed him. There was a shuffling sound as he reached into his belt pouch and unearthed a crinkled envelope. “Do you know what this is?” he asked, holding it aloft.

 

“A get well soon card? You needn't have bothered. I haven't the room on my dresser.”

 

“No,” he said flatly, handing over the envelope. Clinton’s bandaged face shifted; the playful coyness had disappeared. Bruce shivered slightly. His bandaged visage dredged up unpleasant memories.

 

Clinton stroked the paper, with each gentle caress of his finger, he identified possibilities that ought not to be; pathways opened that should have remained shut. Temporal discrepancies, written in ink. “This letter is an anomaly. It is the one anomaly. It shouldn't exist.”

 

“And yet it does,” Batman stated.

 

“And yet… it does.”

 

“Chronos, I know Walker took your belt. I need to know when he travelled to; the exact date, to the minute, if possible. I need to know if this note is legitimate. I need to know if it's from who it says it’s from.”

 

“Why?”

 

“Because if it is... if it is, it might just save his life.”

 

“And if it isn't?”

 

Batman bowed his head, concealing the emotion behind his eyes. “It will drive him deeper into despair. That I know for a fact.”

 

“There's just one problem, Batman. Why would I care what happens to Walker?” Clinton asked, propping the letter between two bottles of aspirin. He took a steady sip of cold water, then sank into his pillow. “He burned my utopia, a version of him, at least, and his continued meddling placed me in this bed. I certainly don't care if anything good happens. Allow me this hypothetical: let’s say I claim it’s legitimate, knowing that it’s not. You offer him a false promise, one too many, and you will crush his heart forever. Or, I say it's illegitimate, again, knowing that it’s not, and you deny him his salvation… He does, as the Killer Moth does, and you lose him all the same. Do you see what I'm getting at?”

 

Batman was silent for a moment, then his words returned, calmer than before. “Palmer tells me you can see the future. What am I thinking right now?” he inquired.

 

Clinton frowned. “You're-”

 

“Wondering if I can push that bed out the window before the guards show, yes,” the slightest smile flashed across The Batman’s shadowed features. “And now, you and Walker's futures are intertwined. Now, it's your future you're gambling.”

 

Chronos took another sip of water, remoistening his cracked lips. “Then let's not waste any more time,” he relented, gently tugging the letter free from the envelope. He read to himself, scoffing at the scribed sentimentality within. Batman watched closely, then his eyes widened.

 

Blood.

 

Blood dripped onto the bedcovers, staining them red. His eyes darted towards Clinton; still injured, but his cuts sealed, then at the letter itself. The paper was bleeding. One splotch of blood after another manifested on the page and trickled downwards. It was as if the note itself was wounded. Quickly, he moved to intercept, cutting short Clinton’s investigation.

 

“Stop! What are you doing? Put it back!” he ordered.

 

Clinton relented. With a flick of his wrist, the paper returned to its original state. The blood vanished as though it had never been drawn, with nary a spot on Clinton nor his bedsheets. “I’m sorry,” he apologised “It just... slipped out.”

 

“What was that?” Batman asked, snatching the letter back, then returning it to his utility belt.

 

“The future,” Clinton explained. “Another gift of mine, courtesy of prolonged exposure to the temporal void. My clairvoyancy extends to the material world. I can accelerate a timeline with a touch; I can ripen fruit, prove bread, dry paint and grow trees... I can follow the path of the physical from birth till death with but a stroke of my finger. Time has its ways of speaking to us, you know, but only I know its language.”

 

Batman shook his head. “I don’t believe you.”

 

“Then answer me this,” Clinton took another sip. “Where did I get the water?”

 

Batman stared at the cup in Clinton’s grasp, replenished with no jug in sight. Then without warning, and with speed atypical for a man hospitalised, Clinton lunged forward, gripping his forearm.

 

“Now,” he smiled. “What was it you said about a window?”

 

Bruce winced. Dark patches formed under his batsuit. Blood from wounds since healed seeped through the Kevlar armour, and he stumbled back.

 

“I told you; time is my tapestry. Mine to read and mine to weave.”

 

Freed from Clinton’s touch, the patches rescinded. The suit dried. And both men understood each other at last.

 

“I have to go,” Bruce said briskly, more shaken than he let on, then he turned towards the exit.

 

“We all have to go, Batman,” Clinton said quietly. “And some of us sooner than others.”

 

~-~

 

Drury stood in Ted Carson’s empty cell, staring at his abandoned helm, untouched since his last dance with the Reverse-Flash. His fingers followed the arc of blood across the walls; the blows still fresh in his mind, his wounds still sore. He knelt down, then picked up the battered helmet, wiping a smear of blood- his own -off its forehead. He put it over his head, then arose anew as the Killer Moth.

 

==Arkham North: Courtyard==

 

Gar had taken Krill aside for a private conservation; the discussion was tense, but it appeared that they had an accord. As Krill departed, he patted Simon on the back. “You did good, lad,” he smirked affirmatively.

 

“Krill,” Gar said with some urgency.

 

“Aye-aye, keep your- scalp on,” Krill snapped back. “Back in ten. See you outside the mansion, yeah?” Gar nodded back, a surly expression on his face, then the Polka Dot Man opened a purple portal and stepped through the vortex.

 

Blake and Sharpe seemed to be arguing for some time, Bridget observed. The subject of their present disagreement was Lord Manga. The metal mogul was in mourning; his robot companion, L-Ron, lay swaddled in his magenta cape like a newborn baby. Blake was shaking his head, making various uncooperative gestures: Sharpe meanwhile had emptied his pockets to illustrate, quite flamboyantly, his own inability to provide financial compensation. After taking turns poking at their respective injuries, Blake grumbled and the two approached Lord Manga in lockstep. Sharpe took point, his inside-out pockets flapping against his thighs like elephant ears, handing Manga a wad of what had been Blake’s cash. “Hey, dude, sorry ‘bout the Gonk, this ought to pay for a good repairman.”

 

“Your doodles are touching, human, but I fail to see the significance of this aged female.”

 

“That’s- That’s George Washington dude. It’s dough. Moolah. Green.”

 

“Paper?” Manga asked, his volume on the verge of reaching unreasonable levels. “You pay in paper? Your currency is tree-trimmings? Pulp?”

 

Blake and Sharpe had no answer for him. Manga’s fist clenched around the bills, then he raised his head to the heavens and exhaled a puff of pink steam through a small slit in his helm. “Damn this backwater mud ball.”

 

A nearby cacophony of squeaks caught Bridget's ear, then she turned around. “The hell-”

 

A pack of plump rats had swarmed Flannegan’s body, crowding around him and clamping their tiny jaws around his clothing to get a grip of him. Together, the rats moved Flannegan along the ground in the direction of the maintenance hatch from which he had he had joined the battle. More still crawled under his legs and head, keep them from hitting against the ground.

 

“Hey, what are you-?” Bridget asked, moving between them and the maintenance hatch to cut them off. She reached out her hand and the lead rat snapped. Reproachful, Bridget clutched her fingers in her other hand, then stood aside, allowing the rats safe passage to the below. A hand rested on her shoulder and she turned back.

 

“Let them go,” Needham advised.

 

“I was just trying to-” Bridget started.

 

“I know what you were trying to do. But maybe- shit -maybe they know better than you or me.”

 

Bridget looked back; the strongest of the rat pack had coalesced, working together to keep the hatch raised, then the rest of the rats carried Flannegan down to his watery resting place. “I don't understand this world,” Bridget said, wiping her eyes. “Any of it.”

 

“And you think I do?” Needham asked. “Rats and robots and Reverse-Flashes from the future?”

 

“Nice alliteration.”

 

“Thanks. The point is, we face it all together. Good and bad.”

 

==The Bowman Estate==

 

Bowman’s bedroom was bathed in a purple glow as a circular portal opened and a man in white emerged. His pimpled brow furrowed; he had been told he would be extracting five people, not three. But the haggard expressions on the survivors’ faces told him everything he needed to know.

 

Jenna’s back straightened. “What did you do?” she asked, her tone immediately accusatorial. “Where’s McCulloch?”

 

“Gone,” Krill said casually, rolling his shoulders. “Poor bloke fell to pieces, so I’m told. It turns out he boasts a lot more than a glass jaw.”

 

Jenna grabbed the bedside lamp, holding it close against her chest.

 

“Easy, luv,” Krill raised his palms. “I’m on the side of the angels tonight. Think of it as a Chrimbo miracle.”

 

“You should know I’m not feeling very festive. Might have something to do with the blood on my overalls,” Jenna stated.

 

“And a crappy new year to you too. Look on the bright side, yeah? You fared better than Tockman. He looks like the subject of a burger bukkake.”

 

Tockman mumbled something in German rendered inaudible by the hands used to cover his face; Mayo, ducked under the bed sheet, so as to avoid implicating himself. “Your highness,” Krill bowed, one hand on his gut. “That a pickle in your pants or you just happy to see me?”

 

Mayo scrunched his face, then reached under the covers. “It’s a pickle.”

 

~-~

 

Drury’s journey to the mansion had been uneventful; eerily so. By the time he reached the door to Arkham’s- Joker’s -office, he was already dripping blood; reopened wounds from past battles fought. The Outcasts had left their mark on Drury’s skin. A trio of glass shards he couldn’t pick out dug into his shoulder blade; the remnants of a one-way mirror obliterated by the snap of Zoom’s fingers. His left hand twitched; blood seeping through to stain his lilac gloves; cuts created when he drove his fist through Sims’ lens to bludgeon the man beneath the mask. His puffed-up face rubbed against the lining of his helm; swelling caused by a brick wall and Thawne’s swift evasion. The worst wounds were Carson’s; a needle-thin scar down his face from a wrist-mounted laser; cracked ribs from several punches and a tumble down a Christmas tree; his leg, as bad as it ever was. To say nothing of the psychological damage wrought by Spellbinder’s games.

 

Drury removed his helmet, placing an unencumbered ear against the wooden door to confirm Joker’s presence. Listening closely, he was met with the faint sound of ABBA’s ‘Gimme! Gimme! Gimme! (A Man After Midnight)’ pulsing through the door. Taking the lyrics as confirmation that Joker was here, and that he was calling to him like a swarm of Swedish sirens, he put his helmet back on and took a step back.

 

Drury’s boot kicked at the door. It didn’t give. At the second kick, a voice rang out.

 

“Who’s there?”

 

Drury stepped back again, rolling his shoulders, then took a run up, putting his body weight into a shoulder barge that, at last, knocked the door open. As he took a single step into the bloodstained, graffitied office, the glow of the coming dawn creeped through the windows; bars of radiant sunbeams lit up the stained glass, giving unearned divinity to the Joker’s abode. He was sat behind Arkham’s desk, scribbling something down with some vigour. As Drury peered closer, it became obvious that he was filling out a colouring book.

 

“No, no, no, that won’t do at all! Go back outside and do it properly!” Joker shook his head churlishly, tossing a rainbow’s worth of coloured pencils off the desk. “No? Let me demonstrate!” he chastised him, violently chapping the desk with his knuckles. “Knock. Knock. Who's there? Wu. Wu who? Woohoo, now we can really get this party started!”

 

Drury said nothing.

 

“Oh! Where are my manners... Welcome to the ABBA-toir, Drubert!” Joker cackled merrily, switching moods as quickly as flicking a light switch. “Sorry about the soundtrack; Doctor Arkham keeps terrible, heh, records. Probably explains the weekly exodus of patients.” He was wearing a striped, orange cape over his usual purple suit, and he did a small twirl to model it.

 

“How d’you like the new threads? I saw it hanging up in the cutest little crematorium in the East End, and well, I thought of you. Well, your wife. And your father-in-law. Also, Tigress. And Bronze Tiger.”

 

…

 

“Velvet Tiger.”

 

“It’s a tiger-print cape. Make of that what you will.”

 

Drury pressed his hand down on the record; it scratched, slowed, then stopped entirely. Joker’s green eyes glinted. “Oh, turn that frown upside down sourpuss! I made fruitcake!” he announced, gesturing to a catering table full of festive foods.

 

“Well, it’s stollen,” he admitted with a sly smile.

 

“Do you know what you did?” Walker asked.

 

“Sure! I put together some damn good television,” Joker answered, sliding back into his seat. “I wrote theatrical dynamite! And! I gave you the closure most can only dream of! The chance to face your insecurities and punch ‘em in their glass jaws! And I did it all so that you would stop moping about the past and look to the future! Our future! They told me Arkham couldn’t cure a common cold! Amazing what a change in regime and the right equipment can accomplish! And if Batsy doesn’t want to play with us then we'll drop our pantaloons and play with each other. What do you say, BFFN (Best friend for now)?”

 

“What do I say?” Drury asked through gritted teeth.

 

“Yes, preferably!” Joker prodded. “After all, we have so much in common!”

 

“Don’t give me that line, I’ve used that line. We’re nothing alike,” Drury spat venomously.

 

“Of course we are! We have all the same friends, enemies, profession… Don’t get me started on our interests; musical theatre, killing Carson, an affinity for purple (and brooding men in tights…)” Joker’s eyes twinkled with malicious nostalgia. “And boy, do we like a barbeque! Or should that be Garbeque? Why, we go together like hydrochloric acid and a veterinarian! We go together like a poisoned pretzel and a famished Bavarian!” he sang. “So! Come on, pardner! What do you say?”

 

‘What would he say?’ Drury pondered. He looked to the floor, his indignant, loathful expression hidden by his mask. Then finally, he spoke, with a voice unlike his own. “If someone told you to run, you'd run, right?” he wondered. “Because that'd be the smart thing to do.”

 

His neck jerked up, a layer of polycarbonate the only thing shielding his eyes from Joker’s. “I don't want you to be smart.”

 

“So, when I say run, you do me a favour, alright, and stay right there. Exactly there. So that when I beat you, when your brains are play-doh on my fists, I can tell them, honestly, truthfully, that I told you to leave. That I gave you an out and you didn’t take it.”

 

“Let's try that now, yeah? Joker?”

 

“Run.”

 

“That’s the spirit.”

 

Beaming broadly with porcelain teeth and shark-like eyes, Joker reached for the gun in his drawer; a long-barrelled six shooter. Drury fired first; cocoon gunk bound Joker’s hand to the drawer. Coldly, Drury walked towards the desk, one steady step after another. “Getting ahead of ourselves, aren’t we?” Joker cast his eyes down at the sticky, off-white binding. “Why, we haven’t even had dessert- urk!”

 

Drury gripped the back of Joker’s head and slammed his face against the table; there was a crunch of broken cartilage as his nose made first contact with the oak tabletop.

 

“Shut up.”

 

Joker’s free hand shot up, jamming a coloured pencil into Drury’s neck. Drury recoiled; Joker slipped his glove and grabbed his gun. Drury caught the barrel and pointed it up into the roof. Bang. Bang. Chunks of white plaster rained down from the ceiling. He held Joker’s hand against the wall with his right, and punched him in the gut with his left, forcing him to drop the firearm. Drury didn’t get the chance to use it himself. Joker squeezed his lapel flower, squirting acid. The acid splattered across Drury’s mask; he removed it; using it as a shield against the next drizzle of acid, then he cracked it across Joker’s face. Joker giggled, taking an exaggerated step backwards, wobbling like a Bop Bag. He reached for the purple rotary on his desk, but Drury reached it first. He wrapped the phone cord around Joker's throat and bashed his head against the desk.

 

“Heh. I know- I know what you’re thinking.” Joker croaked, as the cord dug into his neck.

 

“Doubt it.”

 

“But- ha! -the last time I owned a Kord-less telephone, I was viciously set upon by The Blue Beetle!”

 

Joker snipped the chord with a razor tipped playing card, then elbowed Drury in the ribs, creating distance.

 

“He’s always bugging me, that one. Heh.”

 

A royal flush pierced Drury’s side. He winced, as he pulled an ace from his abdomen. His arm tanked the next barrage of playing cards. His flexi-wings moved to shield Drury; fortunately, Gar had packed the prototype. A dyed halibut clobbered Drury in the face. Stollen bounced off Joker’s head. Drury stuck the bread knife into Joker’s thigh then dragged downwards, slicing his leg open. Joker stamped on Drury’s foot, and in his pain, released the knife. Joker yanked the blade out of his thigh and started swinging it at Drury; the first frenzied slash sliced apart his forearm, as Drury attempted to shield his face. On the next swing, Drury caught the knife by its blade, blood trickled down his wrist as he wrestled it from Joker’s grip. With his other hand, Joker squeezed his boutonniere. Drury relinquished the knife, throwing his still bleeding hand up to shield himself, as the flower sprayed acid across his palm. Teeth bared, Drury launched his fist into Joker’s face; Joker at last dropping the knife; then ripped the flower off his lapel. The acid, still spewing from the flower’s centre, melded glove and hand.

 

With his unscathed hand, Drury grabbed the scruff of Joker’s collar and forced him through the stain glass window, then dragged his face over the newly, twice-stained shards. White skin peeled away like wallpaper, leaving thick strips of red muscle exposed across the clown’s face. With each new wound, Joker only laughed. “Yes!” he cackled. “Yes! What’s next? What’s next? Twist my arm? Pull my finger? Purple my nurple?”

 

Joker caught a fallen shard of green glass, then plunged it into Drury’s side; Drury lumbered back, then a spring-loaded boxing glove struck him in the gut; sending him flying into a nine-foot Christmas Tree. Grenades dangled from the branches in place of baubles, and so, Drury took the nearest one, unpinned it, and launched it at Joker. Joker dodged, and the grenade ripped apart the floorboards.

 

Both men slid along the collapsing floor; as did the revolver and a dozen uneaten appetisers; landing on the floor below. Joker stirred, sitting cross-legged on the dust-drowned ground, wooden splinters down his backside. His eyes scanned the darkness, but he saw no sign of his playmate. Just as he got to his feet, Drury came from behind, wrapping his striped cape around his fist, and pulled, choking Joker. A joyful tear ran down Joker’s cheek. He cut the edge of the cape off with a switchblade, then cast the torn cape aside completely before Drury could again exploit it. Then, reading Drury’s questioning expression, Joker flicked his jacket open, revealing a kitchen’s worth of blades fastened within its inner lining.

 

Their breather lasted five seconds only, then they returned to bloody battle.

 

The knife nicked Drury’s mouth, leaving the crude beginners of a red smile along his left cheek. “Och, hoots, mon! Have ye no heard of a Glasgae smile?” Joker teased, delivering his taunt in an equally crude Scottish accent.

 

Drury tackled Joker, pulling his jacket down over his shoulders. “Oh Drury-!” Joker giggled with a put-on sultry voice, tickling his abs with his finger. Drury was unmoved, with one hand he pinned Joker to the ground and with the other, reached into the jacket, securing a butcher’s cleaver from Joker's assorted armaments. Like beheading a chicken, he swung the cleaver down, and the Joker’s severed hand bounced off the ground. A fountain of blood gushed out Joker’s wrist.

 

Fake blood.

 

Joker’s hand popped out of his sleeve unscathed, waving his palm at Drury; Drury dodged the sparking joybuzzer, grabbing hold of Joker’s forearm and yanking downwards; the bone snapped like uncooked linguini. If it pained Joker, he never let on. His other hand reached up, painting a crimson smile on Drury’s face with his blood. Drury spat out the blood in revulsion. He recoiled, stepping back from Joker, his head spinning. He scrubbed his face with his hand, but that only seemed to spread the blood further. He could feel the bile rising in his throat. He could see Joker’s perverse, pervasive grin, even with his eyes scrunched shut.

 

Then a click filled Drury’s ear.

 

Joker had found the gun.

 

“Hee,” Joker tittered, waving the gun around carelessly, exercising an impressive lack of trigger discipline. “Do you know what happens once a character’s fulfilled their arc? When they’ve done everything they needed to, everything they could do? Y’know what happens then? They kill ‘im off. Heh.”

 

But before Joker could fire, if, indeed, he was ever even going to, Drury’s pack boosted him forwards, tackling him through the window. Shards scraped along their backs, shedding clothes from skin, and skin from bone, as they rocketed through the glass. Looking past Joker, Drury could see them gathered on the grounds below; his Misfits, his family, everyone who’d come to bring him home. Distracted but for a moment, Joker seized his chance and rammed his final knife into Drury’s wingpack. The two dropped like a pair of stones; Drury’s descent slowed by his wings catching the wind. Joker fell hard and fast, but whether kept conscious by adrenaline or just rotten luck, he rolled onto his back and began giggling with glee. “Again! Again!” he cheered, slapping his knee in delight.

 

Drury pounced, wrapping his hands around Joker’s throat. “I knew I should have taken that left turn at Albuquerque...” Joker rasped between gasps.

 

“Why did I ever show you mercy?” Drury hissed, his hands clamping tighter around his windpipe.

 

“Beats... me...” Joker began. “Must've been your bleeding heart!”

 

Joker shot his arm forward, stabbing Drury in the abdomen. Drury yelped in pain, releasing his grip on his throat. “Ooh and speaking of bleeding hearts!” Joker chuckled, shuffling back along the ground on his knees. “Stop me… Stop me if you’ve heard this one before… A woman walks into a sword-”

 

Drury’s fist struck Joker’s face; a mass of white and red flew out of his mouth, then chattered about on the floor. False teeth. “Ow... Ow. You hit your mother with that hand?” Joker exhaled from his nose. His face had fallen. Literally. His cheeks were sunken, and his nose drooped downwards. His mouth was a red maw lined with teeth broken long ago. “Shee, I’ve had a lot of shetbacksh, a lot of loshes… But I alwaysh… alwaysh…” Joker clicked his jaw back into place, “Found time to shmiiiiiiiiiiiile!”

 

“Oh, the waysh he ushed to hit me…” Joker rasped, running his tongue across his shattered teeth and bloodied gums. “Jusht like you hit me…” he giggled, his shrill laughter descending into a gross, phlegm-filled gurgle.

 

“Stop laughing!” Drury demanded.

 

“Shtop laughing? Shtop-? It’sh like you don’t even know me! Heh. But we can fix that, Drury.”

 

“Yeah, we can.”

 

Slowly, Drury walked back to the scene of their crash, finding Joker’s revolver resting on a pillow of green grass. He closed his eyes, in silent remembrance. He remembered his sons and daughter, strapped to those chairs. He remembered dozens- hundreds -of faces inhumanly stretched into deathly grins. He remembered Harley, black and blue and black again. He remembered the cops, torn asunder by shrapnel from Zoom’s snap. He remembered Spellbinder. Sims. Crane. Thawne. All of Joker’s allies and their marks on him, skin deep and deeper.

 

Then he remembered the photos.

 

He remembered the young woman with hair like fire and the temper to match.

 

He remembered Barbara Gordon.

 

And his decision was easy.

 

He scooped up the gun, then scattered the bullets, leaving just one in the chamber. He spun the chamber a single time, then began the return journey.

 

“Shay,” Joker craned his neck forward, watching as Drury trudged back towards him, gun in hand. “Anyone ever tell you that it’sh bad form to shteal a gag-”

 

Drury struck Joker with the side of the gun, and then aimed it squarely between the clown’s eyes. “Hey,” he said. Coldly. Dispassionately. “Anyone here familiar with Russian Roulette?”

 

“Walker!”

 

Drury turned. The Batman was perched on a small formation of rocks; his black cape flapped in the wind, his white eyes offered sympathies that would never be enough. Joker stared down the barrel, frowned, then looked past Drury to the shadow behind. “You know, I think I’ve broken my toy.”

 

Drury stared at Bruce blankly. The gun stayed level. “Where. The. Hell. Have you been?”

 

“Walker, don’t,” Bruce pleaded.

 

“Aw, c’mon “Killer,” time to earn your shtripey tightsh. I double dare ya!” Joker giggled

 

Drury scoffed. Bruce either didn’t understand or didn’t want to. But Drury remembered. He remembered every horrid thing Joker had ever done, and his mind was already made up. His finger curled around the trigger, and he pulled it back.

 

Click.

 

Nothing.

 

So, Drury spun the barrel again. Spin. Click. Spin. Click. His breathing was heavier; his eyes grew redder. He stepped back, held the gun out at arm’s length, spun the barrel a final time, and;

 

A red flag flapped out of the barrel. Drury watched the bang flag twisting in the wind, eyes bulging. He chuckled. He laughed. Then his laughter turned into a horrible scream of anguish. A guttural, hopeless, caterwaul. He tossed the gun away, disgusted. The useless thing bounced across the cold ground, and he buried his face in his hands, screaming into the black.

 

“Hey… Hey…” Joker whispered softly, stroking his elbow. “It’sh okay. Thish happensh to lotsh of guysh your age.”

 

Bruce stepped forward. “Drury... Drury, it’s OK.”

 

“It’s not OK!” Drury screamed. “It’s not! He made her a weapon, Bats. He took my memories, and he built me a prison. Don’t you get it? My memories were all I had left; my comfort in the dark, a respite from the present, and he stole them from me. Corrupted them. Corrupted her.”

 

Bruce looked down, his cowl’s brow hiding his eyes. “I know,” he said softly. He reached behind his cape, then presented a crinkled envelope.

 

Drury ripped it out of his hands, scoffing. “Don’t tell me you’re handing out Christmas cards now, because- because-” And then his heart skipped a beat.

 

“That’s… That’s Miranda’s handwriting. What is this?” he asked with wet eyes. Bruce motioned downwards, imploring him to read on. As Drury torn the envelope open, tears wet the paper, blotching the ink.

 

Drury, I am writing this letter on October 5th, 2019. I am placing it under your trophy cabinet, in the hope that you won’t find it until you need it the most.

 

I can’t stop thinking about what you said the other day. How you acted. All that talk of giving up. Giving in. Despite the odds we’re facing, all those impossible odds… It's never been in your nature to give in. But I know the pressure you’re under; Twag risen from the grave, the Misfits trapped in Arkham. Maybe with everything else going on, you hadn’t taken your medication. I know sometimes it's easy not to.

 

But. About an hour after you left, I called up the airport, wanting to make sure you’d got on the plane in time.

 

They told me you’d left Gotham two hours ago.

 

Believe me, I was confused as hell. Timings didn’t match up; how could you be in this cave with me, and on a plane to DC at the same time?

 

Unless it wasn’t you.

 

An imposter? A Clayface, maybe? God knows there’s a dozen kicking about. No. I’d know.

 

No.

 

No, I know you, Drury Walker. I know the difference between you and a pile of mud. But there was something off about you. The unkempt beard, when you’d trimmed that morning. The missing cologne. You know, the one you wear because you reckon you smell like Hugh Jackman’s pillow. Odd strands of red hair, when you go to extreme lengths to dye them. Bruises, where you hadn’t had them. So many contradictions. Making so little sense. And the eyes… Your eyes were missing that twinkle, that sparkle I’ve always loved. Like the light had faded. Snuffed out like a candle by the wind. In some respects, you weren’t my Drury, in others, you were completely. How? Then I remembered what Simon told us. How he came back. Why he left.

 

Time Travel.

 

But the only reason you’d time travel is if something went wrong. And I think, if things went wrong, well, are going to go wrong, I think you might need some help. So, get help, Drury. If not for yourself, then do it for me. Let those who care in. Stop apologising for what’s been and done and start living in the present. Don’t let this world change you, don’t let it harden you. Pessimism was never your colour. Besides, that’s what I’m here for, and if not me, then Gar, or Len. And my father’s always been happy to intrude upon the sentimental with grim reality. Cynics like us are a dime a dozen, but you aren’t.

 

I pray this is not the last time you hear my words, but if it is; if it has to be; know that I will love you, always.

 

Your Tiger Lily, Miranda.”

 

“Those are her words, Drury,” Bruce spoke. “Not Billings’, not Crane’s. Hers. That means something.”

 

“Why?” Drury asked Batman, his face wet, his hands trembling.

 

Bruce paused. “Because a few years ago, I was where you are now. Without hope. I was directionless. Aimless. Afraid, of what was to come. Grief-stricken, by what I had lost. But a friend of mine gave me a letter too. An impossible message encouraging me to be better. To keep fighting. And I want that for you too. Whatever happens now. Whatever you do next. I want you to fight. Like she would have wanted you to.”

 

The others were beginning to arrive now; they’d followed the smoke trail from Drury’s crash, and tracked him here, to this dirt road behind the mansion. “Drury,” Norbert shook his head, yellow eyes pleading with him. “Don’t let them cage you.”

 

“Like they could hold me,” Drury croaked. The brothers beamed at each other, like two young boys sharing a joke that was just their own. Smiling like they were the only ones there.

 

Bruce nodded to Drury. It was over.

 

It was- Over.

 

Drury didn’t hear what happened next; a metallic ringing drowned out the panicked yelling all around him. He looked down at his stomach; blood was gushing out from a hollow in his gut, wetting his costume, turning it from purple to burgundy. “Huh,” he started, placing his hand on his wound to try and plug it.

 

“Daddy!” Kitten shrieked; Gaige put an arm in front of her, holding her back.

 

Drury could just make out a blurry, scruffy figure emerge from the trees, lumbering forward in blind exuberance. “I did it!” he could hear Ted Carson yell. “I finally did it!”

 

Over… Drury was stumbling, he couldn’t keep upright, he couldn’t- Over.

 

The next bullet, meant for Joker, was deflected by Bruce’s gauntlet, as he ran to catch Drury.

 

“Oh, Batshy, I knew you cared!” Joker slurred.

 

“Shut up!” Bruce barked.

 

“Dad, no!” Bridget screamed, as Gar pushed her aside, and threw Carson to the ground, punching him, screeching at him. Gar didn’t glance at the fire, he wasn’t swayed by the crackling of flames, nor the smell of smoke. He could only see red.

 

“Fight this Walker, fight this,” Bruce was whispering, cradling Drury in his arms. The letter crumpled into a crimson ball in Drury’s bloodied fist.

 

“Done fighting...” Drury whispered. “Was never that good at it.”

 

Bruce shook his head. “You undersell yourself… Hang in there, OK? A short time ago, you asked me a question. Do you remember? You asked me whether we had ever been friends. I didn’t have an answer then. I do now.”

 

“The truth is no, we weren’t friends, but I wish that we were.”

 

“I-”

 

“Don’t speak,” Bruce urged, smiling as best as he could, under the circumstances.

 

“Don’t speak, don’t bleed out… so bossy,” Drury laughed weakly.

 

A violet vortex opened; Jenna’s slow walk turned into a sprint as soon as she caught sight of Gar, Carson at his mercy.

 

“Gar-! Gar, stop!” Chuck was saying, as he attempted to pull him off of Carson. Feral, Gar punched his arm, his broken one; Chuck recoiled, leaving Gar unencumbered. A dozen hard, fast punches rearranged Carson’s grinning face. A red web latched onto Gar’s shoulder, pulling him back. Gar yanked the web forwards, dragging Needham with it.

 

“Gar!”

 

Gar swung around, to be met with Jenna’s face. He panted; his chest rose and fell. Then his face wobbled. Tears fell down his face. And suddenly, he hugged Jenna, burying his face in her chest. Hesitant at first, Jenna placed her arm around his back and held him tight.

 

“I don’t- I don’t understand,” Joey stuttered. “We stopped Carson. We stopped him.”

 

“I did it-!” Carson wheezed, coughing up blood. On the ground, Joker was cackling. As she rose to her feet, Bridget could feel ten synthetic fingers pointed at her back. Then, Phillip Reardon turned away, a trail of saltwater trickling down his cheeks.

 

Until now, Simon had been standing there motionless, shell-shocked. But he now knew what he had to do. What Wally had told him to do what now seemed like a lifetime ago.

 

Run.

 

“No, Simon, wait!” Wally yelled. “You’re not-”

 

Simon ignored Wally’s warnings. He ignored the cries of those around him. He snatched his father from The Batman’s arms, and he ran. Across Arkham. Across the bridge into the city. He raced through the streets of Gotham, leaping over cars and past pedestrians, aware that every second he delayed was a second his dad did not have. At last, he arrived at Gotham General.

 

“Where did you-?” the receptionist looked up, stunned.

 

“My dad-” Simon blubbed, offering his father to the receptionist in desperation. The lobby was swarming with people; families, mostly, of victims of the GCPD attack. “He got shot. Please, he’s bleeding out.”

 

“Sir, I need you to calm down.”

 

“Can’t. I can’t. Please, help my dad.”

 

“Sir, I’m so sorry, but we don’t have any-”

 

It took Simon precious seconds to scan the hospital for an empty bed; the receptionist was right. Zoom’s attack had insured it would be hours before his dad could be examined. Simon kept running; his dad’s limbs dangled over his arms limply. Slack. Simon raced to the next hospital. Then the next. But this was holiday season in Gotham City, and all the beds were full. His speed was dissipating, he knew that. The streets were no longer out of focus, the people were blurs no longer, and he could feel a stitch forming in his side. He ignored that. Until he could run no more. His knees buckled, and father and son fell down together in a Gotham alley.

 

“Simon-” Drury wheezed.

 

“Don’t speak, you can’t speak. You’ve already lost a lot of blood. But I can fix that. I can call someone. You just have to hang in there, dad. Just don’t leave me,” Simon pleaded.

 

“Simon- Simon, it's OK,” Drury raised his hand.

 

“It's not OK, it's not!” Simon punched the ground, and sparks shot up. “I- I- can defibrillate you, see? I can help you, save you.”

 

“No saving me, kiddo. You knew that. Wish I'd known that.”

 

“But- but- he can't- he can't win,” Simon stammered. “Carson can't win.”

 

“He has to,” Drury smiled. “He has. Don't you see, I broke the cycle. I cleaned the slate. This is how it must be. No one else dies. From now on, no one else dies.”

 

“You will.”

 

“So what? You think I fear death?”

 

“No.” Simon sat back. “I fear you don't. I fear you haven't in a very long time.”

 

“You got me,” Drury leaned forward, wincing as he did. “You need to listen now, Simon, because this next bit... it's going to be hard. But I know you can handle it. You can tell Kitten; you can tell Axel. Tell Cammy, when he's old enough. That's it. Tell no one else; not even Gar. Especially not Gar. Promise me.”

 

Drury whispered his last request into his son’s ear. Simon’s eyes widened, and his grip on his dad’s hand tightened.

 

“Dad, I don't- I don't know if I can.”

 

“Dad?”

 

The alleyway shone with golden light, as a yellow portal tore through the polluted air, and a man in white emerged.

 

“You? How did you-?”

 

Krill bypassed Simon, picking a tiny tracking dot off his shoulder. He knelt down, and scooped Drury up in his arms, then turned around without a single word of condolence.

 

“What- what are you doing with him?” Simon asked meekly.

 

Krill didn't respond.

 

“What are you doing with him?!” Simon screamed. That got Krill’s attention.

 

Krill paused. “You want to leave him here, on a bed of grime and piss, be my guest.”

 

~-~

 

The atmosphere in Arkham was subdued. It had been mere minutes since Simon sped away with Drury. He had still been alive, then. Alive, but barely. The residents of Arkham; Simon’s siblings, his uncles, everyone that had sacrificed so much in such a short time waited his return with bated breath. Finally, the portal opened; Krill came first, Drury hanging limply over his arms. Simon trailed behind, his eyes puffy. Kitten wailed. Axel cried. Doctor Polaris floated above them in silence, his arms folded. Leonard Fiasco watched from the window, glad, at least, that no one could see him sniffle.

 

In the end, it only took one bullet.

 

Devil's Pulpit

A strange rock with a sinister reputation lurks within the crimson waters of this Scottish glen.

 

Blood-red water courses through Finnich Glen, a majestic sliver of Scotland, and surges around a strange rock with a sinister reputation.

 

The name “the Devil’s Pulpit” originally referred to the mushroom-shaped rock that sometimes pokes above the rushing stream. Some say the rock is where the Devil stood to address his followers, the crimson current swirling at his feet. Others say Druids held secret meetings there, hidden from sight within the shadows of the gorge’s looming walls. Still more tell tales of witches using the rock as an execution block.

 

However, over time, many people began referring to all of Finnich Gorge as “the Devil’s Pulpit.” It’s still a fitting name, as the red water certainly gives the whole place an eerie, almost sinister aura, though its color actually isn’t the work of the Devil at all. It’s merely a result of the underlying red sandstone.

But this doesn’t make the gorge feel any less otherwordly. Climbing down the slippery steps—of course referred to at the Devil’s Steps—and entering this realm of verdant moss-covered rocks and ruby-toned water reveals an enchanting world, where thin beams of sunlight shine spotlights the gurgling stream.

 

The gorge also had a small role in the series Outlander as the site of Liar’s Spring.

 

Swastikas were ancient symbols. However, the symbol has acquired a bad reputation due to ignorant people who do not know that the National Socialist German Workers Party (NSGWP or Nazis) did not call their symbol a "swastika." NSGWP members called their symbol a hakenkreuz (hooked cross) and they used it to represent crossed S-letters for their socialism under their National Socialist German Workers Party. See the work of the noted symbologist Dr. Rex Curry (author of "Swastika Secrets"). American socialists (e.g. Edward Bellamy, Francis Bellamy and the Theosophical Society) influenced German socialists in the use of the swastika to represent socialism. The ignorance about the "swastika" (hakenkreuz) was predicted long ago when Professor Max Muller discouraged Dr. Heinrich Schliemann in the careless use of the term "swastika" and referred to such ignorant people as "the vulgus profanum." The same people are ignorant of the fact that German national socialists did NOT refer to themselves as "nazis." NSGWP members referred to themselves as "socialists" (hence their use of the of the hakenkreuz to represent crossed S-letters for their "socialism"). Such people continue to defame the "swastika" symbol by their ignorance of the hakenkreuz and other symbols, rituals, meaning and terminology under German national socialists. For example, there is widespread ignorance of the fact that the German socialist's stiff-armed salute (and robotic chanting in unison) came from American socialists (Francis Bellamy, cousin of Edward Bellamy), and that the stiff-armed salute had been used in the USA's Pledge of Allegiance for about 3 decades before German socialists borrowed it. German socialists defamed the American salute as they defamed the "swastika," yet only because of ignorant people who still do not know the history. The stiff-armed salute developed because the early Pledge of Allegiance began with a military salute that was then extended outward to point at the flag (it was not an "ancient Roman salute" -another debunked myth repeated by the ignorant vulgus profanum). The above are part of the discoveries by Dr Curry (author of "Pledge of Allegiance Secrets").

 

Greystone Lunatic Asylum

 

One of the more infamous asylums in New Jersey lore is Greystone Psychiatric Park, located in Morris Plains. First conceived in1871 and known as The New Jersey State Lunatic Asylum at Morristown, the institution first opened its doors (to a mere 292 patients) on August 17, 1876.

 

In its day, Greystone was a landmark in progressivism. Designed by Thomas Kirkbride, the hospital advocated uncrowded conditions, fresh air, and the notion that mental patients were curable people.

 

One of the more famous aspects of Greystone is its notorious network of underground tunnels and rails. This system led to Greystone being built on one huge foundation --it was actually the largest continuous foundation in the United States until the Pentagon was constructed. Being that the hospital sits on over 670 acres of land, this rail system served to unite the entire complex as one contained unit.

 

Over time, the humane reputation of Greystone was tarnished, as overcrowding became the norm (the hospital, which was originally meant to house hundreds, once contained 7,674 patients in1953). Overcrowding was a problem almost immediately in the hospital’s history. In 1881 the attic was converted into patient living space, and in 1887, the hospital’s exercise rooms were converted into more dormitories.

 

One of the hospitals more famous patients was folk singer/songwriter Woody Guthrie, who spend a stint at Greystone from 1956 to 1961. Woody was suffering from Huntington’s disease, a hereditary, degenerative nervous disorder, which would eventual, prove terminal. During his stay there, Woody referred to Greystone as “Gravestone.” This sardonically humorous nickname might prove more prophetic than Woody ever could have imagined, as Greystone might well be the last monument to a dying breed of New Jersey’s gargantuan mental institutions.

 

Source: www.weirdnj.com/index.php?option=com_content&task=vie...

 

Published on WeirdNJ.com: flickr.com/photos/lipsss/2858090027

This report prepared by Chris Borough, Graham Nicholson and Philip Pope.

 

This image shows the Fanny Fisher at an unknown location. The 1985 postage stamp issue featured whaling vessels from Norfolk island; the 5c stamp features the Fanny Fisher and has been supermimposed on the original image.

 

The Fanny Fisher.

NICHOLSON'S MASTERPIECE.

(By J.G.L. in :'S.M.Herald'). .

When Mr. John Nicholson, shipbuilder, of the Upper Manning, during the year 1845 signed a contract with Mr. Henry Fisher, merchant, of Sydney, to build for him a barque of about 270 tons burthen in his yards by the river side where Taree now stands, he undertook to do something in which the heart and soul of him were greatly concerned. Faithfully, cheerfully, manfully did John Nicholson set himself in the way of doing that shipbuilding job to the best of his ability. Who he was, where he came from, and where he served his time are matters on which I am not yet able to make any statement. All I know of the builder has come to me through the knowledge gleaned here and there in the columns of the "Herald" of many years ago, added to the story which, as a lad, with an eye for a ship and a sailor-man, I saw happening before my eyes. Mr. Nicholson's shipbuilding yard, as I said before, was at one time situated on or near to the site which Fotheringham's Hotel and the Bank of New South Wales buildings now stand, almost in the centre of Taree. Only a stone's throw away grew the giant blackbutts, ironbarks, blue gums and spotted gums which could be cut and fashioned in almost any way the clever shipbuilder desired. Ti-tree for frames and crooks also grew close at hand, and could be had for the cutting and carting away. Deep water, too, was available. There need be no trouble about launching a 20-ton cutter or a 500-ton three-masted ship. The Manning River Times and Advocate for the Northern Coast Districts of New South Wales (Taree, NSW : 1898 - 1954) Sat 9 Sep 1933

 

DETAILS

Name: Fanny Fisher (named after Henry Fisher’s daughter Fanny)

Type: Wooden Barque, 3 masts

Builder: John Nicholson, Manning River - 1847

Official Number: 32488

Launched: July or August 1847 (No details located)

 

INITIAL REGISTRATION - 1847

Sydney 78/1847 13th October 1847

Length: 92.2 ft

Breadth: 22.9 ft

Depth in Hold: 14.1 ft

Tonnage: 257.5 tons (n.b. 1 shipping ton = 100 cu. ft. or 2.83 cubic metres)

OWNERS

Initial Owner: 1847-1858 Henry Fisher of Sydney (Australian General Assurance Company

April 1858 to June 1858- James Merriman (32 shares) and Henry Clarke (32 shares)

June 1858 to September 1860 James Merriman (21 shares), Henry Clarke (22 shares) and William Sullivan (21 shares)

September 1860 to April 1861 James Merriman (32 shares), and William Sullivan (32 shares)

April 1861 – December 1861 James Merriman (64 shares)

December 1861 – February 1866 James Merriman (32 shares) and William Andrews (32 shares)

February 1866 – November 1868 James Merriman (64 shares)

 

SECOND REGISTRATION - 1868

Sydney 31/1868 7th June 1868

Length: 94.6 ft

Breadth: 25.3 ft

Depth in Hold: 14.2 ft

Type: Wooden Barque, 3 masts

Tonnage: 219.14 tons (n.b. 1 shipping ton = 100 cu. ft. or 2.83 cubic metres)

OWNERS

November 1868 - James Merriman (43 shares) Hugh Fairclough (21 shares)

November 1868 - January 1875 James Merriman (22 shares), Hugh Fairclough (21 shares) and Richard Randall (21 shares)

January 1875 – April 1875 James Merriman (22 shares) Hugh Fairclough (21 shares) and John Broomfield (21 shares)

April 1875 - Hugh Fairclough (21 shares) and John Broomfield (43 shares)

April 1875 – January 1877 John Broomfield (64 shares)

January 1877 – February 1880 Angus Campbell (64 shares)

 

THIRD REGISTRATION - 1877

Sydney 16/1877 31st January 1877

Length: 94.6 ft

Breadth: 25.3 ft

Depth in Hold: 14.2 ft

Type: Wooden Barque, 3 masts

Tonnage: 219.14 tons (n.b. 1 shipping ton = 100 cu. ft. or 2.83 cubic metres)

OWNERS

February 1880 - March 1883 Archibald McLean (64 shares)

March 1883 - March 1892 Angus Campbell (64 shares)

March 1892 – May 1900 Colin Angus Campbell (32 shares) and William Richard Gainford (32 shares)

 

FOURTH REGISTRATION

Sydney 43/1892 - 21st March 1892

Length: 94.6 ft

Breadth: 25.3 ft

Depth in Hold: 14.2 ft

Type: Wooden Barque, 3 masts

Tonnage: 219.14 tons (n.b. 1 shipping ton = 100 cu. ft. or 2.83 cubic metres)

Register closed January 1907

OWNERS

Result of Death of Colin Angus Campbell – share passes to William Richard Gainford (64 shares) – May 1900

May 1900 – January 1905 William Richard Gainford (mortgage to Bank of NSW)

January 1905 - Daniel Sheedy (end of life – broken up in Middle Harbour Sydney)

 

LAUNCH

While no references to the actual launch have been located, it can be assumed to be in around August 1847.

The Fanny Fisher, which arrived on Thursday afternoon from the Manning River, is a fine new barque, having been built there by Mr. John Nicholson, for Mr. Henry Fisher, of this city, and fitted out by Captain Harrold, late of the brig Calypso. She is of about 270 tons builder's measurement, and her dimensions are 92 feet keel, 25 feet 3 inches beam,14 feet 6 inches depth of hold, and 101 feet 6 inches over all. She is a vessel that will carry a large cargo, and her sailing qualities are said to be first-rate. We believe it is the intention of Mr. Fisher to place her in the sugar trade, for which we should consider her to be well adapted. The Shipping Gazette and Sydney General Trade List (NSW : 1844 - 1860) Sat 11 Sep 1847

 

A RACE TO SYDNEY.

A rival builder, with a big reputation, named Alexander Newton, who had launched eight or nine fine vessels from his yards twenty or more miles down the river, at Pelican, was building a barque of similar lines [Rosetta] and about the same dimensions.

Strange to say, these two new barques [Fanny Fisher and Rosetta] finished their loading, made ready for the run down to Sydney, took aboard their passengers, and crossed the Manning bar on the same tide on the afternoon of September 8, 1847, and raced south with every stitch of canvas they could fly, for the honour of then owners, their builders, and the Red Ensign of Old England.

The Fanny Fisher won the race by 24 hours. Captain Harrold, who had charge of her, outwitted Captain Patrick, of theRosetta, by entering Port Jackson early on Friday morning, while the Rosetta was well away to the southward, having overrun the port early on Thursday morning, after having run. down the 140 miles of coastline in a few minutes over 12 hours. The Sydney Morning Herald (NSW : 1842 - 1954) Sat 2 Sep 1933

 

FITTING OUT

TO SHIPWRIGHTS.

TENDERS are required for putting on copper, false keel, and other work to the barque Fanny Fisher. Specifications of the same may be seen at the City Depot during this day, and the tenders must be in by ten o'clock, Saturday, the 25th instant.

Great dispatch has also been made in the fitting out of the new barques Rosetta Joseph and Fanny Fisher, both of which will be ready to proceed to sea in the course of ten days. These vessels have Already been coppered; their cabins are being fitted up with great taste, both as regards comfort and embellishments, and indeed the whole work will be a credit to the colony. The maiden trip of the former will be to Auckland with stock, on account of her owner; the latter, we believe, will be open either for freight or charter. The Sydney Morning Herald (NSW : 1842 - 1954) Thu 21 Oct 1847

 

FIRST VOYAGE

The first voyage of the Fanny Fisher was to transport a diverse mix of livestock and numerous other items to Port Nicholson (Wellington N.Z.)

SHIPS MAILS:

FOR PORT NICHOLSON [Wellington NZ].-By the Fanny Fisher, this evening, at six. Sydney Chronicle (NSW : 1846 - 1848) Tue 14 Dec 1847

EXPORTS.

December 13. Fanny Fisher, barque, 239 tons, Captain Harrold, for Port Nicholson : 79 tons coals, 600 bushels maize, 10 hogsheads arrack rum, 6 quarter-casks and 5 hogsheads brandy, 6 hogsheads and 50 half-cases Geneva,1 case cigars, 4 hogsheads B. P. rum, 54 bags flour, 8 quarter-casks red wine, 4 half-pipes - Madeira, 60 trusses hay, 9 hogsheads porter, 20 casks bottled beer, 4 half-hogsheads vinegar, 2 cases corks, 40 boxes mould candles, 20 boxes lemon syrup, 550 sheep, 37 head of cattle, H. Fisher ; 7 casks bottled beer, etc etc. The Sydney Morning Herald (NSW : 1842 - 1954) Tue 14 Dec 1847

 

SUBSEQUENT VOYAGES

General cargo was transported to and from a wide variety of ports including the following: Batavia in the Dutch East Indies (Jakarta), Mauritius (Port Louis), Capetown, Manila, Concepcion, Guam, Adelaide, Launceston, Swan River (Perth, Fremantle), Wellington (Port Nicholson), Lyttelton (Port Cooper) Hobart, Launceston, Newcastle, Port Phillip, Sydney, Otago (Dunedin NZ), Norfolk Island,

 

WHALING

From the late 1860s through to around 1875 the Fanny Fisher was hunting whales in the Pacific around Norfolk Island and New Caledonia with some catches near Port Stephens.

PROJECTED DEPARTURES

Fanny Fisher, for whaling voyage. The Sydney Morning Herald (NSW : 1842 - 1954) - Thu 3 Dec 1868

 

The barque Fanny Fisher, of 219 tons, owned by J. Merriman and Captain Fairclough, is out since October 25th, 1869. Evening News (Sydney, NSW : 1869 - 1931) - Fri 8 Jul 1870

 

The whaling barque Fanny Fisher has returned after a successful voyage. She is last from the Brampton shoals, but on her passage up fastened to two sperm whales off Port Stephens, which will yield about 5 tuns oil, making her total take 60 tuns humpback, and 18 tuns sperm oil. On her arrival here she anchored in Watson's Bay, where she is now trying out the blubber. The Sydney Mail and New South Wales Advertiser (NSW : 1871 - 1912) - Sat 26 Oct 1872

(Tun - a measure of capacity for wine and ale, probably also oil, with the introduction of imperial measure in 1824, = 210 imperial gallons).

The Mercury (Hobart, Tas. : 1860 - 1954) Fri 13 Jun 1873

THE Fanny Fisher, whaling barque, was off Norfolk Island on 9th May, with 23 tuns sperm oil -S.M. Herald, 4th inst

WHALER'S REPORT.

The whaling barque Fanny Fisher returned on 29th ultimo, after an absence of eleven months cruise. The first part of the voyage was employed whaling off Norfolk Island, where she encountered terrific weather, and with a whale alongside was caught in a violent gale and lost two boats from the davits, the greater portion of the fish being lost; Chesterfield Reef (near New Caledonia) was then visited and some fish secured. The Sydney Morning Herald (NSW : 1842 - 1954) Fri 20 Nov 1874

 

ADVENTURE AT SEA

While her voyages undertaken with little drama, the following report of the Fanny Fisher, -on her voyage from Port Cooper (Lyttelton NZ) has been kindly furnished by Mr. E. Carey, the chief officer : —

'The barque Fanny Fisher, Captain Armstrong-, left Port Cooper on the 25th of June, and when off Newcastle, at noon of the 15th instant, having Cape Stephens bearing N.E. by N. distant eighteen miles, with thick hazy weather, and rain, experienced a very severe cyclone, the barometer having fallen with, awful rapidity in twenty-four hours from 30.24 to 29.47, at which point it blew with terrific fury, the sea running fearfully high, making a clean breach over her, the vessel lying-to under bare poles and wallowing in the trough of the sea. At twenty minutes past three p.m., with a heavy lurch, the ballast shifted, careening her over on her broadside, the water foaming up to her hatches; kept away in order to trim her upright, and to clear Seal Rocks, a dead lee shore; set the top mast-staysail, foresail, and jib, but she only paid off three points; passengers and crew employed all the time in the hold trimming the ballast. At five p.m. the jib went to ribbons. At six furled foresail and topmast stay-sail, and lay to; the pumps were kept constantly going, ten inches of water above the ship. During the raging of the cyclone the ship behaved nobly, proving herself a first-rate sea boat; and her spars, though greatly imperilled at the time, were well tried, and stood stanch. Hamilton Spectator and Grange District Advertiser (Vic. : 1860 - 1870) Sat 13 Aug 1864

 

FINAL DAYS

After 57 years of operation the Fanny Fisher was finally sold at auction, taken to Middle Harbour in Sydney and left to disintegrate.

ABSTRACT OF SALES BY AUCTION THIS DAY.

FRASER, UTHER and CO.-At the City Mart, at 11 - barque Fanny Fisher. The Sydney Morning Herald (NSW : 1842 - 1954) Fri 23 Dec 1904

The well-known coasting barque Fanny Fisher has been sold by Messrs. Fraser, Uther. and Company to Mr. Dan Sheedy, of Sydney. for £100. The barque was built on the Manning River in 1847 of colonial hardwood, and is one of the oldest colonial built vessel afloat. She was constantly employed in the coal trade between Sydney and Newcastle for many years. Newcastle Morning Herald and Miners' Advocate (NSW : 1876 - 1954) Wed 28 Dec 1904

The Fanny Fisher, a very old barque, a well-known trader in the early fifties, has been sold by Messrs. Fraser, Uther, and Company to Mr. Daniel Sheedy for £100. Evening News (Sydney, NSW : 1869 - 1931) - Tue 27 Dec 1904.

Fifty years ago the Fanny Fisher was a favourite and smart Sydney trader. Last year she was sold by auction at the City Mart. She now rests, a 'sheer old hulk,' off Folly Point Middle Harbour.] Evening News (Sydney, NSW : 1869 - 1931) - Sat 4 Nov 1905

 

The Register of British Shipping records that she was de-registered in January 1907

 

Image Source: State Library of Western Australia au.images.search.yahoo.com/search/images?p=fanny+fisher+w...

 

Enhacement: Philip Pope

 

Acknowledgements. The assistance of Mori Flapan (Mori Flapan boatregister) by providing access to his extensive database is greatly appreciated.

 

All Images in this photostream are Copyright - Great Lakes Manning River Shipping and/or their individual owners as may be stated above and may not be downloaded, reproduced, or used in any way without prior written approval.

 

GREAT LAKES MANNING RIVER SHIPPING, NSW - Flickr Group --> Alphabetical Boat Index --> Boat builders Index --> Tags List

  

FUJIFILM Fujinon XF35mm F1.4 R

Model history:

The introduction of the Fulvia saloon in 1963 maintained Lancia's unparalleled reputation for innovation in automobile design. The boxily-styled Appia replacement featured an all-new, narrow-angle overhead-camshaft V4 engine; front wheel drive; independent front suspension by double wishbones; and disc brakes all round. A 2+2 coupe on a shorter wheelbase was launched in 1965. Though mechanically similar, the newcomer had all the visual presence its progenitor lacked and came with a 1,216cc engine producing 80bhp. Tuned 'HF' versions provided increased performance, while for the style conscious there was the eye-catching Sport Zagato, characterised by one of the eponymous Milanese carrozzeria's typically lightweight and aerodynamic bodies. The shape was penned by Ercole Spada, arguably Zagato's most important post-war designer, who had forged his reputation for creative brilliance with the iconic Aston Martin DB4GT Zagato of 1960.

 

Specific history of this car:

In 1964, the Lancia Works team presented the Sport Prototipo Zagato, a unique creation with a lightweight body and numerous weight-saving measures. Its first race was at the 1964 Targa Florio, with Marco Crosina and Fernando Frescobaldi, using race number 184. Unfortunately, the drivers and the car did not see the finish line due to an unplanned off-road excursion during the race. After the Targa Florio entry, the car had a very short racing history due to limited funds; the Works team, instead, decided to race the standard road going Flavia Zagato in the ‘Turismo’ category to try to help the sales of that car. After a few more outings on circuit events, the Sport Prototipo Zagato was left in Lancia’s Reparto Corse and stored for a few years, unused and nearly forgotten.

 

It was then, in 1967, that Claudio Maglioli, who was the Italian champion with Lancia in 1965 and 1966, was still racing for the Works team and he came across chassis no. 815538 1001 and immediately negotiated with Sandro Fiorio, head of Lancia's racing department, to purchase the car and any remaining spare parts. Maglioli kept the car in his workshop for 20 years, undertaking a careful and meticulous sympathetic restoration. Small details, such as putting baffles in the sump to avoid oil surge in left hand corners, were made, and the car remained with him until 1991, when he decided to sell the 815538 1001 to the current owner, an avid Lancia collector.

 

Chassis 815538 1001 had many special features, starting from the light alloy body that was some 220 kilograms lighter, compared to the standard Lancia Flavia Zagato, as well as the shortened wheelbase for better handling. The Sport Prototipo Zagato car has a very aggressive and low slung look with twin air intakes on the bonnet for the long carburettor trumpets to reach and breathe. Also of note are the lower roof line, deleted bumpers and a race specific interior, all to save weight and increase performance. In addition, a more direct steering box was fitted, which gave the car a much better response.

 

In a test drive and interview with Claudio Maglioli in Italian magazine Ruoteclassiche, he remembers how well the car handled. Maglioli remembers that to drive the car quickly, you had to use the slow-in, fast-out tactic. He reported that with clean racing lines around the corners, this car can be as quick and as effective as most and with a little more support from the Lancia Works team in period, it would have gone on to be one of the more successful race cars in Lancia’s history. The example offered here, by its second owner, remains relatively untouched and original, with only light preservation work by its first owner, a Works driver. This unique Zagato bodied competition car is a one-off piece of Lancia history and is ready to be shown or used on rallies and events.

 

Techno Classica 2016

Essen

Deutschland - Germany

April 2016

Reputation Stadium Tour - Soldier Field 6/2/18

Designed in post-war Art Deco style by stained glass artist Napier Waller, Saint Alban is the second of three windows installed in the porch of Saint John the Apostle and Evangelist Church of England, to the left of the narthex. Created in vibrant blues, green, red orange and golden yellow, the Saint Alban window features the name of the saint in a scroll to the left of his haloed head and an inscription across the bottom which comes from Psalm 76:8 "The earth trembled and was still". Saint Alban is depicted as a soldier with a sword and a Latin cross. St Alban is venerated as the first recorded British Christian martyr. He is traditionally believed to have been beheaded in the Roman city of Verulamium (modern St Albans) sometime during the 3rd or 4th century, and his cult has been celebrated there since ancient times. The subject of Saint Alban, England's first martyr saint, may have been chosen to commemorate the fallen's service to their country.

 

Built on Burke Road on a rise between the busy shopping strips that make up the Camberwell Junction and the grand catholic Our Lady of Victories Basilica, stands the striking Saint John the Apostle and Evangelist Church of England.

 

Almost since the beginning of 1863, Church of England Services have taken place on the site where Saint John the Apostle and Evangelist Church of England stands. In 1863, Camberwell was not the affluent and well established inner city Melbournian suburb that it is today; rather it was a small rural outpost of Melbourne. Therefore the first church, known simply as the Church of England at Camberwell, was little more than a small Victorian Gothic church of brick and stone. However Camberwell, like most of Melbourne, grew as a result of the Gold Rushes and by 1869 an additional chancel had been completed to make allowances for a congregation of around 200 people. As Camberwell's citizenry swelled in number and wealth, so too did their places of worship, and by 1887 Saint John the Apostle and Evangelist Church of England was enlarged and added to. There was no shortage of money, as by this time Camberwell was the home of wealthy industrialists, businessmen and pastoralists as well as a backbone of respectable middle class white collar workers, so the church's windows were filled with elegant and costly stained glass from companies like Mathieson and Gibson, Brooks, Robinson and Company and artists like William Montgomery. Further additions were made on the cusp of the Great War in 1914, and finally a towering spire was added after the War in 1924. In 1930 three stained glass windows by Australian husband and wife artists Christian and Napier Waller featuring the Apotheosis of David were added.

 

By the outbreak of the Second World War, Saint John the Apostle and Evangelist Church of England was an enormous brick an sandstone Victorian Gothic edifice, recognised as a local landmark, and a source of great pride for its wealthy and respectable congregation. Seating over 800 people, it continued to be a place of worship and many happy occasions until the night of the 18th of March 1955, when as a result of an arson attack, the grand building was destroyed by fire. Only the bell tower and spire survived, standing defiantly against the odds, pointing to the heavens.

 

Devastated by the arson attack, the congregation of the church rallied and engaged successful ecclesiastical architect Louis Williams to design a new Saint John the Apostle and Evangelist Church of England. The foundation stone for the new church was laid by the then Archbishop of Melbourne, The Most Reverend J. J. Booth on the Feast of Saint Michael and All Angels on the 29th of September 1956. Rising like a phoenix from the ashes, the new Saint John the Apostle and Evangelist Church of England was completed within two years, finished in November 1957. Sadly, it was discovered several years after its completion, that the belfry and tower of the old Saint John the Apostle and Evangelist Church of England were seriously damaged by the heat of the 1955 fire. Constructionally compromised and therefore a danger not only to the congregation, but any passerby on busy Burke Road should the tower and spire fall into the thoroughfare, the remnants of the old church had to be demolished.

 

The current Saint John the Apostle and Evangelist Church of England building is architecturally very striking. The vast red brick facade rises vertically towards the sky with very little external decoration and is a fine example of Post-War Ecclesiastical architecture. In the wake of the Second World War, faced with austerity and building material shortages as well as the decimation of a workforce skilled enough to architecturally enhance revivalist buildings, architects had to re-think their designs to please their conservative clients who did not want the flat-roofed, glass encrusted boxes that were in vogue in architecturally avant-garde post-war America. Their answer was that between 1940 and 1960, they designed simplified versions of medieval churches. This link back to the more peaceful past, whilst managing the current difficulties of labour and building supplies worked beautifully. Saint John the Apostle and Evangelist Church of England is an ultra-stripped back, simplified version of a Romanesque church. It maintains a traditional rectangular shape, features a traditional pyramidal roof and has aisles that flank the central nave. Its front facade has a post-war Art Deco feel, particularly around the front porch which has elegant brick detailing and a very stylised Art Deco sandstone eagle - an attribute of Saint John the Apostle and Evangelist - above the door. This link to the past is enhanced by the two Old English Gothic style wrought iron lamps that flank the portico's outer doors. A traditional Gothic window with simplified sandstone tracery appears on the facade and is imbedded into a rounded arch which is more shallow than pre-war examples. The church's slender lancet windows have semicircular heads and feature for the most part, latticed plain glass. This allows the church's interior to be flooded with natural light even on a cloudy afternoon, such as the one when I visited Saint John the Apostle and Evangelist Church of England. Some describe the building as elegant, others austere, but the general consensus is that it is one of Louis William's finest architectural works from his very large output of work.

 

Inside the light filled church, the use of stained glass is at a minimum, yet there are three examples which are a throwback to Saint John the Apostle and Evangelist Church of England's glorious stained glass past. When the arsonist attack in 1955 raised the church, so many magnificent, historical and valuable stained glass windows were lost to the conflagration including the three stained glass windows by Australian husband and wife artists Christian and Napier Waller of the Apotheosis of David (shepherd, king and builder) installed in 1930. As part of the church's re-building, Napier Waller (Christian had died by 1955) was commissioned to create three new stained glass windows in memory of those from Saint John the Apostle and Evangelist Church of England who served in the two World Wars. Saint Columba, Saint Alban and Saint Aidan were unveiled in 1961. Installed to the left of the narthex, the three windows are set into their own bay with Saint Columbia on the left, Saint Alban in the middle and Saint Aidan on the right. Designed in post-war Art Deco style, Saint Columbia has an inscription which comes from Psalm 107:23 "They do business in the great waters", Saint Alban has an inscription from Psalm 76:8 "The earth trembled and was still" and Saint Aidan has an inscription from Psalm 18:10 "He did fly upon the wings of the wind".

 

Louis Reginald Williams (1890 – 1980) was born in Hobart, Tasmania and attended school at Queen’s College. His father was a furniture manufacturer, and the family was very religious. Louis’ interest in churches guided him into choosing a career in architecture. He was trained by architect Alexander North, with whom Louis eventually formed a joint partnership when they moved to mainland Australia and set up an architectural firm, Williams and North, in Little Collins Street in Melbourne. Although Louis was commissioned to design commercial buildings and houses, it is for his ecclesiastical buildings that he is best known. He worked mostly in either traditional Gothic or Arts and Crafts styles. Not only was he concerned about the exteriors of his churches, but the interiors as well, and he maintained a group of skilled craftsmen whom he trusted to create his designs for furniture and fittings to harmonise with the buildings he created. He also advised on stained glass, lighting and even mosaic tiling, and no detail was too small for Louis. He designed churches throughout Australia for the Church of England, Presbyterians, Lutherans, Methodists and the Christian Scientists. His career lasted for nearly sixty-five years until he was in his mid eighties.

 

Mervyn Napier Waller (1893 – 1972) was an Australian artist. Born in Penshurst, Victoria, Napier was the son of William Waller, contractor, and his wife Sarah, née Napier. Educated locally until aged 14, he then worked on his father's farm. In 1913 he began studies at the National Gallery schools, Melbourne, and first exhibited water-colours and drawings at the Victorian Artists' Society in 1915. On 31 August of that year he enlisted in the Australian Imperial Force, and on 21 October at the manse of St Andrew's Presbyterian Church, Carlton, married Christian Yandell, a fellow student and artist from Castlemaine. Serving in France from the end of 1916, Waller was seriously wounded in action, and his right arm had to be amputated at the shoulder. Whilst convalescing in France and England Napier learned to write and draw with his left hand. After coming home to Australia he exhibited a series of war sketches in Melbourne, Sydney, Adelaide and Hobart between 1918 and 1919 which helped to establish his reputation as a talented artist. Napier continued to paint in water-colour, taking his subjects from mythology and classical legend, but exhibited a group of linocuts in 1923. In 1927 Napier completed his first major mural for the Menzies Hotel, Melbourne. Next year his mural 'Peace after Victory' was installed in the State Library of Victoria. Visiting England and Europe in 1929 to study stained glass, the Wallers travelled in Italy where Napier was deeply impressed by the mosaics in Ravenna and studied mosaic in Venice. He returned to Melbourne in March 1930 and began to work almost exclusively in stained glass and mosaic. In 1931 he completed a great monumental mosaic for the University of Western Australia; two important commissions in Melbourne followed: the mosaic façade for Newspaper House (completed 1933) and murals for the dining hall in the Myer Emporium (completed 1935). During this time he also worked on a number of stained-glass commissions, some in collaboration with his wife, Christian. Between 1939 and 1945 he worked as an illustrator and undertook no major commissions. In 1946 he finished a three-lancet window commemorating the New Guinea martyrs for St Peter's Church, Eastern Hill. In 1952-58 he designed and completed the mosaics and stained glass for the Hall of Memory at the Australian War Memorial, Canberra. On 25 January 1958 in a civil ceremony in Melbourne Waller had married Lorna Marion Reyburn, a New Zealand-born artist who had long been his assistant in stained glass.

 

The National Trust's Calke Abbey. Also known as the The un-stately home and country estate. It is set in 600 acres of countryside and gardens, stables and outbuildings, and of course the main historic building, Calke Abbey in the glorious Derbyshire Countryside. It's a Grade I Listed Country House. The site was an Augustinian priory from the 12th century until its dissolution by Henry VIII. It dates back to 1701. It is owned by Harpur Baronets (Harpur and Harpur Crewe Families) The National Trust.

 

If ever a house deserved a reputation as a time-capsule, it's Calke Abbey. A perfect example of the family's eccentric behaviour is a magnificent state bed, a gift to a family member in 1714. The bed, with embroidered Chinese silk hangings, was never erected but remained in storage. The last family residents of Calke Abbey became Charles, and then Henry and Airmyne Harpur-Crewe. None of the three children married and the National Trust took over the property in 1984/5.

 

How old is the old man of Calke Abbey? Now known as the Old Man of Calke, this ancient oak is over 1,000 years old, but still continues to grows healthily.

 

Today, the National Trust's Calke Abbey is preserved, not restored. So you get to see it as it was left by its previous owners.

--

No Group Awards/Banners, thanks

Taylor Swift's Reputation Stadium Tour is her fifth concert tour. Reputation began on May 8, 2018 in Glendale and is set to conclude on November 21, 2018 in Tokyo, comprising 53 concerts.

Turku, Finland.

 

This is one of the wooden houses that survived the fire of 1827 in Turku. These houses are over 200 years old and still stand in their original building sites.

 

The kitchen-cum-living room was the heart of the home. It was where the family slept, ate and did handicrafts when they couldn’t work outside. Meals were prepared on an open fireplace. The courtyards of the houses had granaries, barns and cattle sheds for cows, goats and sheep.

 

Today this green building is Sergio’s Restaurant, a genuine Italian restaurant with a very good reputation.

 

www.turku.fi/en/luostarinmaki/houses-and-courtyards

 

www.instagram.com/p/BlDaSOgg2V_/

I vividly remember thinking when I saw this building just after landing at the airport, what have we let ourselves in for ? This building reminded me of an apartment block I had stayed in on the outskirts of Moscow nearly 20 years ago.

 

Estonia has a reputation as the most beautiful of the Baltic States and this wasn't quite what I had in mind. Luckily we didn't have to drive too much further before things rapidly improved.

 

Having said that, I think this building does have a certain stark beauty, especially seen against the snow and the blue sky.

 

On a technical note these Estonia images are the first I'm posting scanned from slides using a Nikon Coolscan IV ED Film Scanner on loan from my Father-in-law. So far I'm really impressed with the results.

Further enhancing the Cadillac Motor Car Company's reputation for engineering leadership, the introduction of the innovative new eight-cylinder Model 51 marked Cadillac's first application of the V8 in standard production, mass-produced vehicle. Since that debut, the V8 engine has continued to remain as Cadillac's standard powerplant since, for an ‘unbroken span of more than 65 years'.

 

Cadillac chose to replace its outdated four-cylinder Model 30 with the 1915 V-8 Type 51. The model 30 had been running for four years and it was considered by some to be outdated, though it had an outstanding reputation for both durability and reliability. In 1914 sales for Cadillac plummeted, possibly due to other luxury makers were running with sixes. The Model 51 V8 was introduced by Cadillac founder Henry M. Leyland and featured an amazing 70 hp and a water-cooled V8 engine.

 

As the Edwardian Era was coming to a close, the elegance and innocence of that time was manufactured into the 'Landaulette' model. The stylish transformable coupe made the Model 51 a legend as it featured sophistication and style. Cadillac advertised the Model 51 as 'The Penalty of Leadership' in an ad campaign that wowed consumers. The Model 51 was produced in significant numbers and became a Cadillac trademark for decades.

 

For years Leyland had been experimenting with a variety of engine types, and as a result of all of his hard research, he came to the conclusion that V8 would be much more popular than a six. The compact nature of the v-type design also appealed to Leyland and in some instance the long crankshaft that characterized the inline sixes had a tendency to ‘whip at high rpm'. At the time, most luxury models had moved on to much more powerful six-cylinder engines, but Cadillac continued to sport its mundane four cylinder engine. The Model 51 was then debuted by the luxury department, powered by eight cylinders that wowed the public.

 

The V8 was a strange and unique design for those days, and many people hadn't even seen such an engine. Two French manufacturers had developed V8's more than a decade previously and had utilized them to power racing machines. In America, as early as 1906 Howard Marmon had demonstrated an air-cooled V8. In 1910 the French firm of DeDion had marketed a production V8. The Cadillac Model 51 offered the first commercially available V8 engine in 1914.

 

The Model 30 was the original vehicle that included an all-new Delco system and an electric start. No more were drivers concerned with jamming a thumb or breaking a limb when cranking their cars. Unfortunately, though the Model 51 was impressive, but it paled deeply when placed alongside the 1912 Cadillac Model 30. This top-of-the-line Cadillac was the most expensive vehicle that GM produced, and at 1921, the Model 51 was priced at $5,190.

 

During the 1915 model year alone, Cadillac produced more than 13,000 units of the Model 51, which was a very impressive number for the first year on the market. The Cadillac Roadster, the four-passenger Cadillac Salon, the five-passenger touring car, and the Cadillac Seven-Passenger vehicle were all priced at $1,975, while the Cadillac Coupe was priced at $2,500, the Sedan for five-passengers at $2,800, the standard Cadillac Limousine was priced at $3,450 and the top-line vehicle, the formal 'Berlin Limousine' was sold at $3,600.

 

[Text taken from Conceptcarz.com]

 

www.conceptcarz.com/vehicle/z16349/Cadillac-Model-51.aspx

 

This Lego miniland-scale 1915 Cadillac Type 51 Tourer has been created for Flickr LUGNuts' 88th Build Challenge, - "Let's go Break Some records", - for vehicles that set the bar (high or low) for any number of vehicles statistics or records. Or for a vehicle which achieves a notable first. In the case of the Cadillac Type 51 - this model was the first production car V8 engine.

[There are 5 images in this set on “The Feast of Esther”] This is a creative commons image, which you may freely use by linking to this page. Please respect the photographer and his work. This art masterpiece is located at the North Carolina Museum of Art in Raleigh.

 

Dutch painter Jan Lievens (1607-1674) during his lifetime had achieved an international (continental) reputation for his art work. Today, he is not well known at all. Versatile in technique and genre, many of his works have been attributed to other painters. More is now known of the man, and credit is now being given where it should have been. The painting, “The Feast of Esther” at the North Carolina Museum of Art once was thought to be a work by Rembrandt; Lievens and Rembrandt knew each other in their home city of Leiden and may have shared a studio in common. Even in the 1630’s their styles were similar as were their subject matter, and contemporaries had difficulty in distinguishing one from the other. Lievens was well-known for portraits as well as religious scenes and landscapes.

 

“The Feast of Esther” dates from circa 1625; it is oil on canvas (51 1/2 x 64 1/2 inches [130.8 x 163.8 cm]), depicts a scene from the Book of Esther in the Old Testament. It is the confrontation of Ahasuerus (Xerxes) with his minister, Haman, who wished to see the extermination of the Jews. Esther has both her husband, Ahasuerus) and Haman to a banquet and exposes Haman’s plot. Lievens has conveyed much drama by Esther’s pointing finger, her husband’s anger in his clenched hands, the expression of surprise and shock on the face of Haman. The museum placard mentions aspects of Leivens’ craft—“scale, bold colors, dramatic energy”.

 

For additional works of art by Lievens:

Athenaeum (see under Art tab) with 68 art works

www.the-athenaeum.org/people/detail.php?ID=4733

Web Gallery of Art with 15 art works

www.wga.hu/frames-e.html?/html/l/lievens/

 

For more complete information:

www.smithsonianmag.com/arts-culture/Out-of-Rembrandts-Sha...

artnc.org/works-of-art/feast-esther

www.kunstpedia.com/articles/a-dutch-master-rediscovered.html

 

This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-ShareAlike 3.0 Unported License.

  

treymelody.blogspot.com/2019/06/my-reputation.html

Used to carry explosives to Stirlinghill Quarry where convicts sentenced to hard labour toiled, watched at times by armed guards on the quarry rim. A prison with a ferocious reputation for the hard men it incarcerated. Whether any of them seized opportunities of cover afforded by the haar (thick, chilling sea fog) rolling in I cannot say.

Between 1896 to 1933, Delahaye, an early French automobile manufacturer, produced quality touring cars with a reputation for being mechanically and aesthetically classical as well as strong and well made. During the second part of the 1920s, under pressure from mass producers, touring car production began to slow down and the marque depended on the important production of commercial vehicles for its survival. In late 1931 the consequences of the great depression highlighted the rather old fashioned character of the Delahaye models and the collapse of touring cars sales persuaded the Delahaye management to change their minds. This cultural revolution would breath new life into the marque, giving it a second chance. In October 1933, Delahaye took the automobile world by surprise at the Paris Motor Show by displaying a brand new generation of touring cars created under the supervision of the chief engineer Jean François who had designed a new six-cylinder overhead valve engine with new independent front suspension. The new range, known as "Super-luxe", comprised two series: the Type 138 cars with the six-cylinder engine and the Type 134 cars with a new four-cylinder engine. The Type 138 series, built on a modified Type 126 chassis frame, was fitted with the 3.2-litre six-cylinder engine. The road performance of this combination was so promising that the engine was enlarged to 3.5 litres to cater for more sporting and faster versions. In late 1935 a new low-slung and more rigid frame appeared on the new Type 135, a design lasting until 1952. In late 1936 the standard transmission was a Cotal electric gearbox with an optional manual 4-speed box. The Type 135 chassis and the 3.5 litre Type 103 engine continued to be developed giving way to the 135 Spécial and Compétition "court" models on a shortened racing chassis (270cm), and the Type 135 Compétition road car (on a 295cm wheelbase chassis). The latter became the Type 135 M Competition in late 1938 and the Type 135 M was built again from late 1945 onwards. At the 1938 Paris Motor Show, after five years of development, Delahaye offered two Type 135 road cars built on an even better chassis: the Type 135 M Compétition (M for Modified) and the Type 135 MS (for Modifié Spécial), the latter fitted with a more powerful Type 103 engine. The new Type 135 chassis could be equipped either with the 135 M engine with cast iron head and 18 mm plugs or the 135 MS unit with alloy head, 14 mm plugs, a special camshaft and 3 carburettors. This version offered 125/130bhp and was normally fitted with central locking wire wheels but the disc wheels were always optional. From the beginning the Type 135 chassis on the 295cm wheelbase was a favourite with the most important and talented coachbuilders who created innovative and striking bodies in the new aerodynamic idiom all the rage at the time. The Type 135 M Compétition was resurrected in late 1945 and named Type 135 M. It was still a brilliant and fast car on the road even with the poor petrol available (with ration books operational at the time in Europe). This 135 M could be fitted with a three carburettor induction system and in this case the power was up from 95 to 115bhp with a 7.5:1 compression ratio. As far as the design of the body was concerned, the new styling was slow to evolve. Modern trends initiated in America and Italy were treated cautiously by the French coachbuilders who were still combining pre-war designs with new solutions to integrate everything into the main body. Among the most innovative supporters of the "pontoon style" was Marcel Pourtout located in Rueil-Malmaison in the west of Paris. Delahaye 135 M DHC was built in his workshops in 1948 and was one of the first examples of this "transition" model combining the pre-war style and the integral pontoon line. Named "Malmaison" it was exhibited on the Pourtout stand at the 1948 Paris Motor Show. The vertical and narrow grille was a variant of the new front styling by Philippe Charbonneaux for Delahaye in 1946. This car participated in numerous concours d'élégance events in 1949. We know that in 1952, under the registration number 1548 C 75 (Paris), it was the property of the Marquis de Cuevas who owned and managed a famous ballet company. It then went through the hands of several French owners among them the Comte de Ribot in 1954 (n° 461 BW 06), Mr. Louis de Poitevin de Fontignac in 1957 (n° 851 CM 16), Mr. Beauvais in 1970 (n° 613 LC 86), Mr. Vernhes in 1982 (n° 3429 KM 32) and M. Ramos (n° 1943 JP 33) in 1983. In 1988-1989 the body, paintwork and upholstery of the car was restored by the Atelier Automobiles Anciennes in Chambray-lès-Tours. A letter written by Claude Pourtout (son of Marcel) who supervised the restoration work testifies that this car was built by his father's company. Sold at an auction in New York in October 1989 it has since been part of various American collections. The power unit is a Type 103 6S engine with three carburettors delivering 115bhp at the time and it drives a 4-speed Cotal electro-magnetic gearbox and we are told that the car works perfectly. Finished in bright red with white dashboard and leather interior, it is fitted with Rudge-type chrome-plated wire wheels (optional on the 135 M). A period Philips radio will be delivered with the car. Accompanied with its American title this Delahaye 135 M is rated "Full CCCA Classic" in the US. With 45 000 km recorded on the clock, it is ready to make its first ever appearance at the main international concours d'élégance events. US title, duties and import taxes have to be paid in the country of destination

www.artcurial.com/fr/asp/fullCatalogue.asp?salelot=2107++...

Rosa Bonheur

French, 1822-1899

Oil on canvas

New York Metropolitan Museum of Art

 

When Rosa exhibited "The Horse Fair," at the Salon of 1853, her reputation as an artist was fairly well established by the paintings, drawings, and sculpture she had shown at the annual Salons since 1841, but few of her works attained the dash and grandeur of The Horse Fair," and none received the same acclaim.

 

Vastly admired on the Continent, where it was exhibited in Paris, Ghent, and Bordeaux, the painting was subsequently shown in England and the US. It has become one of the Metropolitan Museum's best-know works of art.

 

Bonheur began work on "The Horse Fair" in 1852. For a year and a half, she made sketches twice a week at the horse market in Paris on the Boulevard de l'Hopital,dressing as a man in order to attract less attention from the horse dealers and buyers. The picture shows with accuracy the trees lining the boulevard and the cupola of the Hopital de la Salpetriere nearby.

Gift of Cornelius Vanderbilt, 1887

Reputation Stadium Tour - Soldier Field 6/2/18

Reputation Stadium Tour - Soldier Field 6/2/18

Arano, 12/06/2011

Paco Ibañez - La mala reputación

George Brassens - La mauvaise réputation

 

 

Da www.famefestival.it/?page_id=4:

 

FAME festival è morto

Come siete eravamo. come siamo sarete, sempre peggio e tardi.

 

FAME festival is dead

How you are we were. how we are you will be. always too late though.

 

What you’ll read below is the old text:

 

FAME (eng) = the state or quality of being widely honored and acclaimed,favorable public reputation (ita = fama successo).

 

FAME (ita) = bisogno molesto di mangiare, carestia, grande miseria, grande desiderio (eng = starvation, hunger).

 

Here’s the text, it’s the same from the first year, if you have it says it all and still, you stupid journalists cant write a decent article!

 

In order to avoid rhetorical somersaults of the case, Studiocromie is pleased to announce FAME festival for what it is: the meeting of a dozen international artists in a small italian centre, Grottaglie.

 

The city is famous for its ancient ceramics tradition and there’s a whole area exclusively dealing with ceramics production.

 

FAME wants to be a new point of view on the original structure of this quarter and the city. While politicians and institutions only care about their personal interests, we’d like to give back to the town and its original asset the light they deserves.

 

The name of the event, FAME, refers to the ironic difference of meaning of the word itself between Italian and English. If in Italian FAME means hunger, in English is FAME, understood as honour and success status, things that Italy can only have exactly a great hunger.

 

The idea is to host the artists for variable length of time (from 1 to 4 weeks) and to offer them the cooperation of the local artisans for the production of pottery works and limited edition prints.

 

Furthermore the artists will have at their disposal several walls to paint around the city, in order to upgrade a few areas which are aesthetically depressed.

 

At the end of their stay, everything created, including new original artworks, screenprints and ceramic pieces made with the collaboration of local artisians will be showcased in a final group show. It will take place in one of the most ancient ceramics workshop of the area.

 

More importantly, it has to be said, the festival is entirely financed and curated by Studiocromie, wich is a one-man (+ his parents) screenprinting studio, without any kind of sponsorship from external sources.

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Da www.artribune.com/2014/05/chiudere-allapice-della-notorie...:

 

Chiudere all’apice della notorietà. Angelo Milano racconta il Fame Festival.

 

Grottaglie, provincia di Taranto. Angelo Milano e un gruppo di amici si inventano un festival di Street Art. Gli attriti con gli amministratori locali non mancano ma il “Fame” diventa un caso. E così tutto si ammoscia. E Angelo Milano, allora, decide di chiudere. Lo abbiamo intervistato.

 

Iniziamo con un po’ di storia. Quando, come e in che circostanze è nato il Fame? Da quali idee, da quali esigenze, da quali stimoli?

Eravamo a cavallo fra il 2007 e 2008, la prima edizione col nome Fame è stata nell’estate 2008. È successo perché ero tornato a Grottaglie e non volevo annoiarmi, è stato necessario importare stimoli da fuori. Un bisogno molto personale, anche lavorativo, che in un certo senso era in linea con i bisogni del Paese intero.

 

Quando hai capito che la cosa stava prendendo piede e aveva successo?

Quando ho cominciato ad annoiarmi. I primi anni era molto meglio, perché generava molti contrasti ed era divertente, da lì in poi, vista la fama che gli artisti invitati stavano guadagnando, sui giornali e su Internet girava voce che il Fame Festival fosse un evento da supportare. Di conseguenza i contrasti sono spariti e si è affievolito tutto in un consenso generale, letteralmente dettato dai media: più stupido era l’articolo (vedi le gallerie di Repubblica e altre testate ritenute “serie”), più conferiva autorità al festival. La gente spesso non capisce un cazzo!

 

Economicamente com’è stata questa iniziativa? Ci hai guadagnato? È stato un bagno di sangue?

Dall’inizio è stata una scommessa dalla posta altissima: se fosse andata male ci avrei rimesso a vita! Fortunatamente ogni anno avevo un colpo di fortuna, e non ci ho mai rimesso; al contrario, l’interesse nel festival ha generato traffico sul sito dove commercializzo le serigrafie che produco con gli artisti. Ho venduto molto, per finanziare il festival e per camparci allegramente. Quindi tutto bene, e sempre meglio.

 

Qual è stato il rapporto con la cittadinanza?

I primi anni, un sacco di punti interrogativi: la gente ovviamente non era pronta né abituata. Poi, come dicevo, quando l’opinione pubblica è stata influenzata dai media, è andato tutto più liscio, e anche quei pochi compaesani ostici hanno cambiato atteggiamento. Che peccato!

 

Qual è stato il rapporto con le istituzioni locali?

Una tristezza rara. Due-tre assessori ignorantissimi, al pari del sindaco, si sono dati la zappa sui piedi il primo anno, cancellando un murale di Ericailcane. Da lì in poi, avendo ricevuto insulti da tutti i lati, non hanno più aperto bocca né mosso un dito. Erano sotto la costante minaccia del dover argomentare la loro ignoranza. E allora meglio stare zitti.

 

Quali sono stati i rapporti a livello internazionale?

Con gli artisti rapporti di amicizia, tranne con qualche ego strabordante; con il pubblico sempre molto buoni. Sono venuti dappertutto a vedere cosa stavamo combinando qui.

 

Quali sono stati i passaggi più difficili e quelli invece che ti hanno dato maggiore soddisfazione?

I più difficili sono stati nella transizione dall’inizio, in cui eravamo un giro di amici (io e gli artisti) che facevano cose per il gusto di farle, stando bene insieme e guadagnandosi da vivere, al momento in cui gli artisti erano - sono - osannati ovunque, con le conseguenze che puoi immaginare: meno tempo per fare quello che ti piace, più preoccupazioni, più rapporti coi soldi (che, attenzione, non vuol dire più soldi)…

 

Nel 2012 hai allestito l’ultima edizione del festival. Ci elenchi i motivi che ti hanno fatto decidere di chiudere questa iniziativa?

Alla fine dell’ultima edizione era tutto facile: dipingere in giro, fare video, spaccare cose, anche sotto gli occhi delle autorità. Ci abbiamo provato a fare cose brutte e provocatorie, ma in cambio c’erano solo sorrisi e accoglienza. L’attrito originale era scomparso, e questo già non era in rima con lo spirito e l’attitudine del festival.

In più, in giro per la Penisola, come in tutta Europa e non solo, i festival si sono moltiplicati, diventando tutti uguali e interscambiabili. Amministrazioni e politici hanno finanziato il loro festivalino dando due euro al curatorino di turno, e il consumo da parte dell’osservatore medio si è circoscritto al tempo di un paio di click su Facebook. Ho avvertito una totale mancanza di senso in quello che stavamo facendo.

 

E quindi hai deciso di chiudere…

Penso che un po’ tutti, artisti inclusi, siano mortalmente annoiati da quello che stanno facendo. Diciamo che ho avuto le palle per fermarmi nel momento in cui andava meglio - soprattutto economicamente - per cominciare altro e non finire a fare cose senza stimoli. A dire il vero, invidio gli artisti che da dieci anni continuano a fare la stessa identica cosa, estendendo il loro pubblico (Instagram!) e limando gli spigoli della loro comunicazione. A me sembra che, lima e lima, alla fine diventi una palla, vai d’accordo con tutti e non c’hai più niente da dire, però rotoli e puoi farlo all’infinito! In alcuni casi si è addirittura arrivati alla demagogia, fortuna che la gente non se ne accorge…

Quindi sì, Fame è morto. Non era più divertente, adesso ci sono altri 600 festival in giro, con gli stessi artisti, organizzati da ‘sti curatori senza idee che, poveracci, combattono per la sopravvivenza.

 

E dunque ora, nel 2014, che fai? Hai smesso di occuparti di Street Art?

Non mi sono mai occupato di Street Art, a me piaceva invitare i miei amici qui e fare casino. La Street Art è quella dei libri inglesi con le foto rubate da Flickr. O quella di cui si parla su testate come questa, adesso che Sky fa i minidocumentari. Né io né i miei amici abbiamo mai avuto a che fare con ‘ste stronzate. Faccio un paio di marchette all’estero sfruttando l’eredità del lavoro fatto finora, Milestone Project a Girona per esempio, che faccio per soldi e divertimento, e mi sono messo a fare vestiti. È più onesto, civile, profondo e responsabile vendere vestiti piuttosto che arte!

 

Participants enjoy an intense arms/abs workout with instructor Holly at the Dowd YMCA's Taylor Swift: Reputation Party.

By: Alef Alencar

Paimpont forest, also known as Brocéliande, is in the French commune of Paimpont, near the city of Rennes in Brittany. As Brocéliande it had a reputation in the Medieval imagination as a place of magic and mystery. It is the setting of a number of adventures in Arthurian legend, notably Chrétien de Troyes's Yvain, the Knight of the Lion, and locals claim the tree in which the Lady of the Lake supposedly imprisoned Merlin can still be seen today. Other legendary places said to lie within the forest include the Val sans Retour, the tomb of Merlin, the Fountain of Youth, and Hotié de Vivianne (castle of the Lady of the Lake). The medieval chronicler Wace visited the forest but left disappointed:

 

"...I went there in search of marvels; I saw the forest and the land and looked for marvels, but found none. I came back as a fool and went as a fool. I went as a fool and came back as a fool. I sought foolishness and considered myself a fool."

 

For those living close to Paimpont, the Arthurian legend is very strong. Many names in the legend can be translated into Breton or French, for example the name Lancelot translates as "wanderer" or "vagabond" in Breton. There is also a strong influence from the Druids, and all around Brittany are standing stones or alignments, the most famous of which are nearby at Carnac; a group of the alignments at Kerlescan are nicknamed "the soldiers of Arthur."

 

Paimpont is a forest of broadleaf trees, oaks and beeches mainly, with areas of conifers either inside after clear-felling or on the periphery as transition with the moor, for example towards the west in the sector of Tréhorenteuc and the Val-sans-Retour (= Valley of no Return) which was devastated by several fires in particular in 1976, a year of great drought. It occupies mainly the territory of the commune of Paimpont, but extends to bordering communes, mainly Guer and Beignon in the south, Saint-Péran in the northeast, and Concoret in north. The forest of Paimpont is the largest remnant of an ancient forest occupying Argoat, the interior region of Brittany. It was more often called the forest of Brécélien, but its ancient character and other qualities underlined by many authors decided on its name of "forest of Brocéliande," tallying of the adventures of the legend of the Round Table. This flattering designation was reinforced by the birth of the Pays de Brocéliande at the end of the 20th century, an institution intended to facilitate the development of the communes of the west of the département.

 

The relative altitude of the forested massif contributes to give it a climate close to the oceanic climate of the coasts of Finistere. This mode, where west and south-west winds carry of clouds and regular rain supports the vegetation, dominates. The surplus of water feeds the many brooks occupying the bottoms of small valleys before flowing into the river Aff, then the Vilaine, to the area around Redon in the south of the department. The highest point is at 256 m in the western part called Haute forêt. Altitude decreases regularly while offering viewpoints towards the department of Morbihan; viewpoints which one finds the equivalents in the north on the commune of Mauron, port of the Côtes-d'Armor. It is not far from there that the Paimpont Biological Station of the University of Rennes 1, built in 1966 and 1967, dominates the lake of Chatenay. The varied forest and its surroundings constitute a framework favorable to many training courses in which the Rennes 1 biology students as well as foreign researchers take part. These buildings can accommodate approximately 70 people, and researchers work all the year on subjects generally very far away from the local biotope such as behavior of primates, represented by Cercopithecus, whose cries are familiar for the area but surprising to the walker little accustomed to this exotic fauna. The first researchers lengthily studied the ecology of the Armorican moors, the grounds, and the hydrology.

 

The forest belongs mainly to owners who maintain it and exploit it for timber and hunting; only in the north-eastern part, a small part (10%) is "domanial" and is managed by the National Forestry Commission. This situation prevents freedom of movement in the forest even with the access to the borough and its pond. The owners, however, signed a convention authorizing, from April 1 to the end of September, the use of some hiking trails in the forest. Among the responsibilities of the forest guards are watching for behaviors that threaten the forest, its flora, and its fauna. For example, behaviors that pose the risk of fire, and those that endanger the game, like dogs running loose. The gathering of mushrooms is not absolutely prohibited, but it is only tolerated near the approved trails. Because of its importance before the French Revolution, the forest was the responsibility of a royal jurisdiction called the National Forestry Commission, as the traditional jurisdictions of the seigneurs did not occupying itself with forest management. The wood was excessively exploited for the power supply of the charcoal blast furnaces for the nearby industry, at least in the 17th and 18th centuries; the assignment of the trees of first choice to the navy was a marginal role.

 

An extract of the files of the correctional court of Montfort:

 

"Having left the forging mills of Paimpont on Monday morning, he passed by the workshop of the carpenter who was far away from the forging mills but in the middle of the forest, he drank there with Julien Auffray his cousin and foreman of the carpenters." (Foreman of the carpenters and sawyers on contract to the naval yards elsewhere). Auffray interrogation, 1826.

 

The Matter of Britain is a name given collectively to the legends that concern the Celtic and legendary history of Great Britain, especially those focused on King Arthur and the knights of the Round Table. The 12th century French poet Jean Bodel created the name in the following lines of his epic Chanson de Saisnes:

 

Ne sont que III matières à nul homme atandant,

De France et de Bretaigne, et de Rome la grant.

 

The name distinguishes and relates the Matter of Britain from the mythological themes taken from classical antiquity, the "matter of Rome", and the tales of the paladins of Charlemagne and their wars with the Moors and Saracens, which constituted the "matter of France". While Arthur is the chief subject of the Matter of Britain, other lesser-known legendary history of Great Britain, including the stories of Brutus of Britain, Old King Cole, King Lear, and Gogmagog, is also included in the Matter of Britain: see Legendary Kings of the Britons.

 

Legendary history of Britain

 

It could be said that the legendary history of Britain was created in part to form a body of patriotic myth for the island. Several agendas thus can be seen in this body of literature.

 

The Historia Britonum, the earliest known source of the story of Brutus of Britain, may have been devised to create a distinguished genealogy for a number of Welsh princes in the 9th century. Traditionally attributed to Nennius, its actual compiler is unknown; it exists in several recensions. This tale went on to achieve greater currency because its inventor linked Brutus to the diaspora of heroes that followed the Trojan War, and thus provided raw material which later mythographers such as Geoffrey of Monmouth, Michael Drayton, and John Milton could draw upon, linking the settlement of Britain to the heroic age of Greek literature, for their several and diverse literary purposes. As such, this material could be used for patriotic mythmaking just as Virgil linked the mythical founding of Rome to the Trojan War in The Æneid. Geoffrey of Monmouth also introduced the fanciful claim that the Trinovantes, reported by Tacitus as dwelling in the area of London, had a name he interpreted as Troi-novant, "New Troy".

 

More speculative claims link Celtic mythology with several of the rulers and incidents compiled by Geoffrey of Monmouth in his Historia Regum Britanniæ. It has been suggested, for instance, that Leir of Britain, who later became Shakespeare's King Lear, was originally the Welsh sea-god Llŷr (see also the Irish sea-god Lir). Various Celtic deities have been identified with characters from Arthurian literature as well: Morgan le Fay was often thought to have originally been the Welsh goddess Modron (cf. the Irish goddess Mórrígan). Many of these identifications come from the speculative comparative religion of the late 19th century, and have been questioned in more recent years.

 

William Shakespeare seems to have been deeply interested in the legendary history of Britain, and to have been familiar with some of its more obscure byways. Shakespeare's plays contain several tales relating to these legendary kings, such as King Lear and Cymbeline. It has been suggested that Shakespeare's Welsh schoolmaster Thomas Jenkins introduced him to this material, and perhaps directed him to read Geoffrey of Monmouth[citation needed]. These tales also figure in Raphael Holinshed's The Chronicles of England, Scotland, and Ireland, which also appears in Shakespeare's sources for Macbeth. A Welsh schoolmaster appears as the character Sir Hugh Evans in The Merry Wives of Windsor.

 

Other early authors also drew from the early Arthurian and pseudo-historical sources of the Matter of Britain. The Scots, for instance, formulated a mythical history in the Picts and the Dál Riata royal lines. While they do eventually become factual lines, unlike those of Geoffrey, their origins are vague and often incorporate both aspects of mythical British history and mythical Irish history. The story of Gabhran especially incorporates elements of both those histories.

 

The Arthurian cycle

"Parsifal before the Castle of the Grail" - inspired by Richard Wagner's Opera Parsifal - painted in Weimar Germany 1928 by Hans Werner Schmidt (1859-1950)

 

The Arthurian literary cycle is the best known part of the Matter of Britain. It has succeeded largely because it tells two interlocking stories that have intrigued many later authors. One concerns Camelot, usually envisioned as a doomed utopia of chivalric virtue, undone by the fatal flaws of Arthur and Sir Lancelot. The other concerns the quests of the various knights to achieve the Holy Grail; some succeed (Galahad, Percival), and others fail (Lancelot).

 

The medieval tale of Arthur and his knights is full of Christian themes; those themes involve the destruction of human plans for virtue by the moral failures of their characters, and the quest for an important Christian relic. Finally, the relationships between the characters invited treatment in the tradition of courtly love, such as Lancelot and Guinevere, or Tristan and Iseult. In more recent years, the trend has been to attempt to link the tales of King Arthur and his knights with Celtic mythology, usually in highly romanticized, early twentieth century reconstructed versions.

 

Additionally, it is possible to read the Arthurian literature in general, and that concerned with the Grail tradition in particular, as an allegory of human development and spiritual growth (a theme explored by mythologist Joseph Campbell amongst others).

 

Sources wikipedia

Sugar seems to have developed a reputation as the big bad wolf in relation to health. We have reported on numerous studies associating sugar intake with increased aging, cardiovascular disease, obesity and even cancer. Such research has led to many health experts around the globe calling for...

 

www.isteuygun.com/a-lot-of-lives-lost-after-common-heart-...

Grumman’s historic reputation as a builder of naval aircraft is second to none. Its foray into city transit buses via its early 1980s ownership of Flxible was one of the most calamitous corporate stories of all time. All the technical expertise that Grumman Flxible could muster was undone by the potholes of New York City.

 

On paper, the Flxible Metro/Grumman 870 sounded like a high-tech marvel. The orders flooded in from US transit bus operators. These included NYCTA of New York. The problems soon manifested themselves, not just in the Big Apple but also Atlanta, Houston, LA and Chicago. Cracked A-frames were the source of the problem, forcing nearly 2,700 buses off the road and costing Grumman over $7 million in remedial work.

 

Mayor Ed Koch of New York told Grumman not to bother, famously issuing the 1984 directive, “Junk the junk!” Grumman disposed of its failing Flxible subsidiary at a big loss soon afterwards.

 

Well, you could have knocked me down with a feather when I encountered an aged Flxible in southside St. Pete today, now in the hands of a college. I was tempted to believe that this was an NYC exile, in its blue and white colours, but I suspect that this was one of Pinellas Suncoast’s own.

Eric Gertler

Executive Chairman and CEO, U.S. News & World Report

 

Michael Dimock

President, Pew Research Center

 

John Gerzema

CEO, The Harris Poll