Part B

 

It did rather put the creeps in me, one may play games, but never considers it a reality.

  

I just want to put it out, because it was something that remains a mystery,( and unsolved mysteries really have always gotten me goat) It concerns an incident that I believe hit a little too close to home for me. Read on, I’m sure you will understand.

  

I had all but forgotten this one, but I was driving home the other night and going a way I haven’t been by for in years. The street I was travlin lead past a boulevard that went up into a neighborhood located on a steep hill. As I passed, It quite clearly all came back to me.

  

My twin sister and her friend had Ginny had been invited to some big party. I remember them talkin about it, but didn’t really pay too much attention, nor did I even know what the bloody thing was all about, but I was soon to find out.

  

Late one evening, after I had gotten home from a late rugby practice round 9 o’clock, I got a call from me sister. They had been left without a ride home when of one Ginny’s cousins, the one who had given them the ride, had left early sick (pregnancy does that, or so I’ve heard.) I told them I would be right over, but they pleaded for me to let them stay on a wee bit, the do was still going strong.

  

I finally agreed to be there by 12:30am

 

They told me the friend’s house they were at. I knew it all too well! It was located at the end of a boulevard that ran up a steep hill. I did not care much for it, being a newer driver at the time, and my little 4 cylinder Bug was not the best on hills.

  

So I waited, probably grumbling a little, and left at the appointed time. It didn’t take more than 30 minutes to get there being that the route I took was all on main roads.

  

As I approached the corner to the boulevard, I see two fetching darlings wearing these long shiny dresses like one sees at weddings, standing on a small stretch of grass by a sidewalk. I will admit I was eyeing them over as I was getting closer, their tantalizingly clad shapely figures and jewelry shimmering ever so appealingly outlined in me car’s headlights.

  

Suddenly I coldly realized that the pair I was lusting over were me own Sister and our friend Ginny themselves, standing there putting on the show. Needless to say, my take on the situation was completely turned around on its bloody head.

  

The silly twits had apparently walked down from the party house to wait for me so I would not have to navigate the hill.

  

Which was wonderful of the girls, don’t get me wrong , but two young ladies, out alone fancy dressed like that, was a recipe for something quite unpleasant to swallow.

  

But I guess the idea of an Oscar party ( which I was informed afterwards was the theme of it ) is that one dresses up like screen stars, tuxedos and long gowns. So, the scene before me was of two rather attractive ladies in shiny dresses , one wearing pearls, the other in emerald rhinestones. The pair looked for the world like they were probably thumbing it, or worse…..

  

As the pair swished themselves into the back seat, my sister said thank you James, like I was that chauffer chap named James in a movie we had watched. It’s a bug, not a Rolls you silly twit, I teased, then I lectured, what gives with the pair of you standing out there all alone dressed like that. What if some stranger had tried to give you a ride, I asked?

  

Giggling, they said a truck had indeed pulled up and the occupants, two youths in flannel and rugby caps, asked them if they had needed a lift. They had said no, and they had playfully kept asking, before my sister finally shooed them off, saying help was on the way, as they started to open their doors to usher them in, a car slowed down and sis had said to them, and here he is. Then the truck left, and the other vehicle kept going on by also, wasn’t me,,, and for the life of her she couldn’t understand why all the cars that passed them had been slowing down.

  

So after they had situated themselves in their seats, I turned the car around in the boulevard and we were on our way. Before long I noticed a pair of headlights very close behind me, I could tell from the height that they belonged to a truck. I speed up a little, then turned the next corned to give the tailgater off my tail. In doing so , I jostling the girls who had been happily twittering amongst themselves about the party, both dolled up princesses rightly gave me the “look”.

  

As I turned the corner, I’ll be buggered if the truck did so also, a red truck with a black strip and a noticeably big dent in the door. A question popped into my mind.

  

Excuse me you two darlings, but I was wondering, I asked them looking up into the rearview mirror, they were looking at me like I had apparently been rudely cutting into their conversation. What did the truck that offered you a ride look like. Red and black my sister said, did it have a dent in the door I asked, I think so, Ginny thinking a sec, the answering decidedly, yes, why?

  

Because it is following us you silly birds! They turned, but could only make out headlights.

  

Nice try they chirped, you’re just trying to put one over, we know your tricks, and they went innocently back to their happy chitter chatter.

  

I turned a few more corners, rounded a park, the girls still paying no never mind, and the truck stayed the course right behind me, although they were not as close now…. Finally I made for a well-lit street and pulled over mid-way.

  

What’s up luv, Ginny asked innocently?.. I just tsked them, I told you, a red truck with a black stripe has been following us. We all looked back, the truck, headlights still on, had pulled over a few cars behind us. We waited for several rather long minutes; finally the truck pulled away, and speed by us.

  

So is it the truck I asked,( the two shadowy occupants had been wearing caps from what I could see) maybe Ginny’s voice said from the back, Sis just shrugged( her dangling rhinestone earrings glittering quite strikingly). I could tell the two young ladies still were not buying it. I looked back at the two of them, both smirking at me like I was pullin a leg or something, sitting there all pertly in their shiny dresses, decked out in their rather healthy collection of shimmery faux jewelry.

  

Cripes, I remember thinking at that moment that the pair of duffer’s in the truck may have been after filching the very jewels the lass’s were wearing , believin them to be real. Later I would think that if I hadn’t showed up, Shiny earrings and such would not have been the prigs only intent!

  

I Know,I know, I am assuming the worse here, they may have been a pair of rather pleasant chaps hoping to get the pretty young lass’s numbers . But one always likes to think the worse it seems.

  

Putting all such thoughts aside, I turned the car around in a driveway, and headed back by a different route. We were not followed again, and I was able to complete the trip with peace of mind.

  

I got Ginny back to her house and took Sis home without further incident.

  

But It has always vexed me to wonder what the two blighters in the truck had had going on in their heads, and what tricks they were planning up their weasely sleeves. Were my many assumptions correct, or was it all just a load of bosh. I know it really did bother me for a time, especially since no one believed me. Plus the fact is, as I have already stated, I’m rightly peeved when I am presented with a mystery that cannot readily be solved.

  

I guess I am wondering what anyone’s thoughts were on this story, or if anyone has ever experienced anything similar.

If you want to drop a line or leave it in the comments I would be quite interested to hear about it.

 

Thank You

  

347/365

 

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ATOM

at the Marfa lights observation platform, lit by a super moon

Be patient toward all that is unsolved in your heart and try to love the questions themselves like locked rooms and like books that are written in a very foreign tongue. Do not now seek the answers, which cannot be given you because you would not be able to live them. And the point is, to live everything. Live the questions now. Perhaps you will find them gradually, without noticing it, and live along some distant day into the answer. ~Rainer Maria Rilke, Letters to a Young Poet

 

HFF!

ESO’s next step is to build a European extremely large optical/infrared telescope (E-ELT) with a 40-metre-class primary mirror. The E-ELT will be “the world’s biggest eye on the sky” — the only such telescope in the world. ESO is drawing up detailed construction plans together with the community. The E-ELT will address many of the most pressing unsolved questions in astronomy, and may, eventually, revolutionise our perception of the Universe, much as Galileo's telescope did 400 years ago.

 

Credit: ESO/S. Brunier

More information: www.eso.org/public/news/eso1018/

Bios

Eva Arce

Human rights activist and mother of Silvia Arce who disappeared in Juarez on March 11, 1998. Eva Arce's daughter vanished in March 1998 along with a friend, Griselda Mares. The Washington-based Inter-American Commission on Human Rights (IACHR) of the Organization of American States has accepted her case.

 

Cynthia Bejarano

Assistant Professor of Criminal Justice at New Mexico State University, Las Cruces, and activist. She spearheaded the “Justice for Women” Symposium in Las Cruces in March 2006. Her research interests include youth and justice; U.S. border studies and violence; and race, class, and gender issues within the criminal justice system. Professor Bejarano was involved with community-based groups in the metropolitan Phoenix area and hopes to build strong community advocacy in the New Mexico, Texas, and Chihuahua tri-state area. She is also co-founder of Amigos de las Mujeres de Juárez, a non-profit organization working to end the violence against women in Chihuahua, Mexico and the borderlands. She is currently working on an anthology with colleague Rosa-Linda Fregoso focusing on feminicides and sexual assaults against women throughout Latin America, with the tentative title Gender Terrorism: Feminicides in the Américas.

 

Ilder Andrés Betancourt

Ilder Betancourt will graduate with a Masters in Psychology this June from Stanford University. His research has focused on Latino gangs, specifically in Los Angeles and El Salvador. He has the unusual distinction of having written two honors theses. For his first honors thesis, entitled “Relative Deprivation Mediating Street Gang Appeal,” he constructed and conducted the experimental paradigm used with Latino youth subjects in the Pico Union area of Los Angeles, looking for gang association that occurs at the local level. For his second thesis, “From LA to El Salvador: Displaying Street Performance for the Self,” he conducted field research in El Salvador where he interviewed deported ex-gang members. He is currently teaching for the third year in a row a student-initiated course on Latino gangs in the Chicana/o Studies Program, CCSRE.

 

Lawrence D. Bobo

Lawrence D. Bobo is the Martin Luther King Jr. Centennial Professor at Stanford University. He is in the Sociology Department and also serves as Director of both CCSRE and the Program in African and African American Studies. Professor Bobo is an elected member of the National Academy of Science, a former Fellow of the Center for Advanced Study in the Behavioral Sciences, and former Visiting Scholar at the Russell Sage Foundation. His interests include race, ethnicity, politics, and social inequality. He is currently conducting research for the “Race, Crime, and Public Opinion” project.

 

Lydia Cacho

Journalist and writer, Lydia Cacho has published over 400 articles in Mexico, Spain, the United States and Canada. She is also the director of a crisis center for women and children who have been sexually abused in Cancun, Mexico. She recently received the 2007 Ginetta Sagan Award for Women’s and Children's Rights from Amnesty International for her work exposing a net of pederasts and child pornographers linked to powerful politicians and business people, as well as for her high-security shelter for victims of trafficking and violence in Cancun, Mexico. After her book Los demonios del Edén (The demons of Eden) was published, she received death threats and was kidnapped and incarcerated by the Mexican police. For 15 years she has researched, lectured, and published articles on violence against women in the State of Chihuahua and other parts of Mexico. She is an expert on issues concerning the corruption and impunity of the Mexican government. The Ginetta Sagan Award is given once a year to one woman in the world who stands out for her work on behalf of women’s and children’s rights. Lydia Cacho is the first Mexican to receive this prestigious award. She is also the author of the novel Muérdele el corazón (Bite his heart) based on the diary of a Mexican woman who dies of AIDS and is currently working on the book Trata y tráfico de mujeres en México (Trafficking in Persons: Women in Mexico).

 

Adriana Carmona

Human rights lawyer from the Centro de Derechos Humanos de las Mujeres (Center for Women's Human Rights) in Chihuahua City, Mexico. She has argued cases before the International Commission of Human Rights. She collaborates in the writing of reports for CEDAW and the United Nations in the area of human rights and feminicide. She is also a legislative advisor for the Congress of the State of Chihuahua and works with Justicia para Nuestras Hijas (Justice for Our Daughters), a non- government organization formed by relatives on behalf of the women who have disappeared or have been murdered in Juarez and Chihuahua, Mexico.

 

Carlos Castresana Fernández

Project Coordinator of the United Nations’ Office on Drugs & Crime, Mexican Regional Office. He is also Visiting Professor and Director of International Human Rights Programs at the University of San Francisco Center for Law and Global Justice. In 2003, he visited Ciudad Juarez as a UN Independent Commission Expert to participate in the review of the murder cases in the State of Chihuahua. In 2005, he was appointed Prosecutor of the Spanish Supreme Court. Professor Castresana authored the formal complaint and subsequent reports in the Argentina Case and the Pinochet Case before the Spanish Audiencia Nacional. Professor Castresana serves as an expert in international legal cooperation and other issues in Europe and Latin America. He received the National Human Rights Award in Spain in 1997, and was awarded an Honorary Doctoral Degree from Guadalajara University, Mexico in 2003. He received his law degree from the Complutense University, Madrid, Spain.

 

Lucha Castro

Human rights lawyer from the Centro de Derechos Humanos de las Mujeres (Center for Women’s Human Rights) in Chihuahua City, Mexico. She is also a legal advocate for Justicia para Nuestras Hijas (Justice for Our Daughters). She represents families of murdered women in the State of Chihuahua and also files the cases with the Inter-American Commission on Human Rights in Washington DC, a commission that accused the Mexican government of violating the rights of victims and their families.

 

Norma Cruz

Norma Cruz is an activist for women’s human rights in Guatemala. She began her struggle for justice in 1999 as the result of her own personal experience in the case of her daughter Claudia María who was a victim of sexual violence. Deeply upsetting Guatemalan society, she and her supporters refused to keep silent and made public a reality that affects thousands of Guatemalan female children. Alter a long and dehumanizing legal process, a conviction was achieved in July of 2002, shattering with it the wall of impunity. During this legal process, Norma Cruz and her daughter established the Fundación Sobrevivientes (Survivors Foundation) and began to support hundreds of women who endure violence and seek justice. In July 2006, the Foundation opened the Centro de Atención, providing legal and psychological aid for these women. The Center’s shelter offers protection for women who are victims of intra-family violence and sexual violence, and provides support for families of women who are murdered. Their struggle is directed at bringing impunity to a halt and ending feminicide in Guatemala. In June of 2005, Norma Cruz was officially nominated for the Nobel Peace Prize as part of the campaign “A Thousand Women for a Nobel Peace Prize.” In Killer’s Paradise, a new Canadian documentary focusing on feminicide in Guatemala, she analyzes the links between the murders of women and the civil war in Guatemala.

 

Paula Flores

An activist in the community of Lomas de Poleo in Ciudad Juarez, she is the mother of María Sagrario González Flores, who disappeared on March 11, 1998 in Juarez and was murdered in April, 1998. Her daughter is one of over 400 women who have been disappeared and slain in Juarez over the past 13 years. Paula Flores runs the María Sagrario Foundation, an organization that established the kindergarten Jardín de Niños Ma. Sagrario González Flores in Juarez.

 

Rosa-Linda Fregoso

Professor and Chair of Latin American and Latino Studies, and Feminist Studies, at the University of California, Santa Cruz. Rosa-Linda Fregoso received the second annual MLA Prize in United States Latina and Latino and Chicana and Chicano Literary and Cultural Studies for her book MeXicana Encounters: The Making of Social Identities on the Borderlands. Her interests include human rights, visual culture and and transnational feminist studies. Among her publications on feminicide is the recent article “’We Want Them Alive!’: The Politics and Culture of Human Rights.” Along with Cynthia Bejarano, she is co-editing a book tentatively entitled, Gender Terrorism: Feminicides in the Américas.

 

Judith Galarza

Mexican activist Judith Galarza Campos joined the struggle for human rights as a result of the forced disappearance of her sister Leticia Galarza Campos in 1978. From 1982 to 1996, she was President of the Independent Committee for Human Rights in Juarez. She was also President of the Association of Relatives of Missing Detainees (AFADM) from 1996 to 2000. Currently she is the Executive Secretary of the Latin American Federation of Associations of Relatives of Missing Detainees (FEDEFAM), headquartered in Venezuela. FEDEFAM provides assistance to families of “disappeared people” in all of Latin America. She has been a promoter of several family groups, among them the Association of Missing Children in Mexico in the 1980s. She is currently completing the degree of licenciatura in Education in Venezuela. On July 24th, she will be awarded the Theodor Häcker Prize in Esslingen, Germany. Häcker worked as a writer and translator during the Nazi period and was part of the Catholic resistance. First awarded in 1995, this prize is dedicated to persons who defend human rights "honorably, with special political valor.”

 

Marcela Lagarde

Maria Marcela Lagarde y de los Ríos is a Professor in the Graduate Program in Anthropology and Sociology as well as in the Degree Program in Gender and Development at the Universidad Nacional Autónoma de México (UNAM). She is also advisor to the Graduate Program in Gender Studies of the Guatemala Foundation and to the Program on Feminist Research at UNAM. She is the coordinator of the Casandra Workshops on feminist anthropology and advisor to the Gender Program of the Center for Interdisciplinary Research of UNAM. She is also the Secretary for the College of University Academics at UNAM, of which she became a member in 2002.

 

Marcela Lagarde is a major figure in Latin American feminism. She is the author of over one hundred articles and ten books. Her doctoral thesis, Los cautiverios de las mujeres: madresposas, monjas, putas, presas y locas (The captivities of women: mother-wives, nuns, prostitutes, prisoners and lunatics), has been reprinted a total of five times between 1990 and 2003. Her books examine topics such as the relationship between gender identity, feminism, human development and democracy; the relationship between ethnicity, gender and feminism; the theme of women’s power and autonomy; and feminist perspectives on love, self-concept, and the eve of the millennium.

 

Marcela Lagarde collaborates with feminist groups and women’s centers and institutes in Mexico, Latin America and Spain. She also works with organizations of international cooperation, labor unions and political parties focusing on women’s issues. She is a member of the Network of Researchers for the Life and Liberty of Women and other feminist networks. She is also a member of many editorial boards: of Hypatia, a collection of the Andalusian Institute for Women in Spain; of the journal Cuadernos Feministas, of the Editorial Series Diversidades Feministas published by the Center for Interdisciplinary Research at UNAM; and of the journal Pensamiento Iberoamericano, in Spain.

 

As to the topic that concerns us at this conference, it is Marcela Lagarde who coined the term “feminicide” to describe the situation in Juarez, Mexico. She has developed an analysis of what she calls “the politics of gender extermination” to examine the proliferation of violence in Mexico. Through her ideas, writings and activism, she wishes to leave an indelible mark on public policies.

 

Marcela Lagarde was a federal representative for the Partido de la Revolución Democrática (PRD) in the LIX Congress (2003-2006) and served as President of the Special Commission on Feminicide in the Republic of Mexico. It was the work of this Commission that disclosed that feminicide was not exclusive to Ciudad Juarez. Marcela Lagarde also promoted legislation establishing feminicide as a crime in the Federal Penal Code and helped pass the law Access to a Life Free of Violence for Women, which was established on February 2.

 

Marcela Lagarde is a member of the Mexican Academy on Human Rights (2006); of El Consejo Asesor del Centro de Formación Política Mujer y Ciudad, of the Diputación de Barcelona, España (2006); and of the Council to Prevent and Eradicate Discrimination in Mexico City (2006).

 

Among the many distinctions and honors Marcela Lagarde has received are the Maus Prize for the best doctoral thesis, the Medal of University Merit for 25 years of teaching at UNAM, and the Presea Águila Canacintra al Mérito Legislativo, awarded by the Cámara Nacional de la Industria de la Transformación in 2005. She also received the Omecíhuatl Medal in 2006. The Omecíhuatl Medal is awarded by the Women’s Institute of Mexico City to women who have distinguished themselves for their commitment, struggle and creativity and the defense of democracy. Also in 2006, she received the Hermila Galindo Prize from Mexico City’s Commission on Human Rights, for the defense of women’s human rights.

 

Miguel Méndez

Adelbert H. Sweet Professor of Law at Stanford University. After a litigation career in public interest law that included work for the Mexican American Legal Defense and Education Fund and California Rural Legal Assistance, Miguel Méndez entered academia and has become a foremost expert, scholar, and teacher in the field of evidence law. An author of leading works on the laws of evidence in California, he writes about reforms in the federal and California evidence codes and on emerging issues in state substantive criminal law. He is a consultant to the California Law Revision Commission, a board member at Public Advocates, Inc., and an elected member of the American Law Institute.

 

Miguel David Meza Argueta

Falsely accused on July 14, 2003 and held for the murder of Neyra Azucena Cervantes by the judicial authorities in the city of Chihuahua, Mexico. The falseness of this accusation and incarceration was established by reports from Amnesty International, news articles, and testimonies from relatives of the murdered woman, including her mother, Sra. Patti Cervantes, who is also David’s aunt. After proving that Mexican authorities tortured him, he was set free in June 2006.

 

Paula Moya

Associate Professor in the English Department at Stanford University, Paula Moya served for three years as Director of the Undergraduate Program in CCSRE and as Chair of its Comparative Studies major. Her interests are Chicana/o cultural studies and feminist theory, incorporating 19th and 20th century American literatures, post-colonial literature and literary and cultural theory. Her main theoretical concern centers on the relationship between a subject's social location and her identity, and seeks to interrogate the epistemic and political consequences of social identity. For the past five years, she has been actively involved with the Future of Minority Studies research project (FMS), facilitating discussions about the democratizing role of minority identity and participation in a multicultural society.

 

Elisabeth Mudimbe-Boyi

Professor of the French and Comparative Literature Departments and Director of the Program in Modern Thought and Literature at Stanford University. Her fields are 20th-century French literature and Francophone literature from Africa and the Caribbean. Her interests include cultural relations between Europe, Africa and the Caribbean; travel writing; history and memory in literature; literature, intellectuals and society; and women writers. She recently served on the Executive Council of the Modern Language Association, where she represented the field of French.

 

Marisela Ortiz

Marisela Ortiz is the Director of Nuestras Hijas de Regreso a Casa (Our Daughters on Their Way Back Home), a non-profit organization composed of mothers, family members and friends of murdered women in Ciudad Juarez, Mexico. A psychologist with a Masters degree in special education, she has taught at the Escuela Normal Superior de Chihuahua for the past 20 years, specializing in professional development. She continues to work with adolescents and also trains middle school teachers in her entire region.

 

David Palumbo-Liu

Professor of Comparative Literature, Director of the Undergraduate Program in CCSRE, and Chair of CCSRE’s Comparative Studies major at Stanford University. His fields of interest include social and cultural criticism; literary theory and criticism; and East Asian and Pacific Asian American studies. His current project addresses the role of contemporary humanistic literature with regard to the instruments and discourses of globalization, seeking to discover modes of affiliation and transnational ethical thinking. Professor Palumbo-Liu is most interested in issues regarding social theory, community, justice, globalization, and the specific role that literature and the humanities play in helping us address each of these areas.

 

Elena Poniatowska Amor

Journalist and novelist, Elena Poniatowska is one of Latin America's most distinguished and innovative living writers. Many of her works have been translated into English, including Querido Diego te abraza Quiela (Dear Diego), Hasta no verte, Jesús mío (Here's to You, Jesusa!); Nada, Nadie. Las voces del temblor (Nothing, Nobody: The Voices of the Mexican Earthquake); Tinísima; La noche de Tlatelolco. Testimonios de historia oral (Massacre in Mexico) and La piel del cielo (The Skin of the Sky). Translations of her work also exist in Polish, Danish, French, Dutch, Italian and German. Elena Poniatowska advocates for women and the poor in their struggle for social and economic justice, denounces the repression of that struggle, and blurs the boundaries between conventional literary forms.

 

Born in Paris, Elena Poniatowska is of Mexican and French descent. Her father was a Frenchman whose family was originally from Poland. She moved to Mexico in 1942 and began her work as a journalist at the newspaper Excelsior in 1953, where she published daily interviews during an entire year under the name "Hélene.'' She interviewed Diego Rivera, Octavio Paz, William Golding, Barry Goldwater, Dolores del Río, Cantinflas, María Félix, Juan Rulfo, and Linus Pauling, among others. From Excelsior she went to Novedades, where she drew an audience who followed her because of her unpredictable texts. She is a founder and a contributor of the leftist newspaper La Jornada, and continues to contribute to its pages.

 

In 1954 she published her first novel, Lilus Kikus. Chronicler of the 1985 earthquake and of the Chiapas conflict, she continues to meld her journalistic and literary work. She published Tinísima in 1992, a novel about the life of Tina Modotti, which was as successful as her novel Hasta no verte Jesús mío, about the life of a soldadera, or camp follower. Her next novel, La piel del cielo, won the Premio Alfaguara in 2001 and the prize for the best novel in Spanish awarded by the government of China. In 2004, Alfaguara published her novel El tren pasa primero, which brought to life the struggle of railroad workers and led to the reconstruction of railway stations in many parts of Mexico. During a 35-year period, she led a literary workshop that produced writers such as Silvia Molina, Guadalupe Loaeza y Rosa Nissan.

 

When Luis Echevarría, who had been Secretary of State during the massacre of 1968, was elected president, he awarded the Xavier Urrutia Literary Prize to Elena Poniatowska in 1971 for her book La noche de Tlatelolco. She rejected the prize asking who was going to award prizes to the dead.

 

She has been awarded many honorary doctoral degrees: by the University of Sinaloa, the University of Toluca, Columbia University and Manhattanville College in New York, Florida Atlantic University in Boca Raton, and the University of Pau in France. She is the only woman who has received the Mazatlán Prize in Literature on two occasions, and in 1979, she was the first woman to receive the National Prize for Journalism. In 1993, she was awarded a Guggenheim Fellowship and received the Gabriela Mistral Medal in Chile in 1997. She holds the rank of official in the French Legion of Honor, and in 2004 she received the Mary Moors Cabot Prize for Outstanding Work in Journalism. In 2006 the International Women’s Media Foundation awarded her the Courage in Journalism Lifetime Achievement Award. In addition to these she has received many other prizes and awards.

 

Elena Poniatowska dedicates a good part of her life to writing novels, short stories, poems, articles, interviews, prologues, and book presentations. She was married to Dr. Guillermo Haro, the founder of modern astronomy in Mexico. She has three children, the oldest of whom is a scientist, and ten grandchildren. She lives in Chimalistac with 13 canaries and an unending line of visitors.

 

Lourdes Portillo

Lourdes Portillo was born in Chihuahua, Mexico and moved to the United States in 1960. Her films focus on the representation of Latina/o identity, human rights, social justice and Latin American realities. An equally important aspect of her filmmaking is experimenting with the documentary form. Her most recent film, Señorita Extraviada (Missing young woman), released in 2002, is a documentary about the disappearance and death of young women in Juarez and the search for truth and justice by their families and human rights groups. It received a Special Jury Prize at the Sundance Film Festival, the Best Documentary Prize at the Havana International Film Festival, and the Néstor Almendros Prize at the Human Rights Watch Film Festival. It premiered on P.O.V. and received more than 20 prizes and awards around the world. The film inspired a number of governmental and non-governmental organizations such as Amnesty International to conduct intensive investigations into the disappearances and murders of women in Juárez. Lourdes Portillo made her first film, a dramatic short called After the Earthquake, in 1979. Some of the other documentary, dramatic, experimental and performance films and videos she has made are the Academy Award-nominated Las Madres: The Mothers of Plaza de Mayo (1986); La Ofrenda: The Days of the Dead (1988); Vida (1989); Columbus on Trial (1992); Mirrors of the Heart for the PBS series “Americas” (1993); The Devil Never Sleeps (1994); Sometimes My Feet Go Numb; 13 Days, a multi-media piece for a nationally toured play by the San Francisco Mime Troupe (1997); and Corpus (1999), a documentary about the late Tejana singer Selena.

 

Kris Samuelson

Professor in the Art and Art History Department at Stanford, where she is Director of the Film and Media Studies Program and the Documentary Film and Video MFA Program. She has also been a Professor in the Department of Communication, where she served as Chair from 2000-2003. Kris Samuelson has been an independent producer for twenty-eight years and was nominated for an Academy Award for her film Arthur and Lillie. She has received artist's fellowships from the NEA and the California Arts Council and is a member of the Academy of Motion Picture Arts and Sciences. From 1999-2006, Samuelson served on the Board of the Independent Television Service. Samuelson recently completed .Point 25, a multimedia concert and co-production with colleagues in Stockholm.

 

Rita Laura Segato

Professor of Anthropology at the University of Brasilia in Brazil, Rita Segato directs the National Research Council of Brazil’s research group on anthropology and human rights. She is also the project director for the non-government organization AGENDE, Ações em Gênero, Cidadania e Desenvolvimento ((Measures in Gender, Citizenship and Development). As part of her work on human rights, she was the co-author of the first affirmative action proposal for the inclusion of students of African and indigenous background in Brazilian higher education.

 

Her study on ethno-psychology and the construction of gender in the Yoruba religious tradition in Recife, Brazil was published in the book Santos e Daimones. O politeísmo afro-brasileiro e a tradição arquetipal (Saints and demons. African-Brazilian polytheism and the archetypal tradition), a second edition of which came out in 2005. A chapter from this book was translated and published as "Inventing Nature: Family, Sex and Gender In the Xango Cult" in 1997. Her essay “Gender, Politics, and Hybridism in the Transnationalization of the Yorùbá Culture” is included in the volume Òrìsà Devotion as World Religion to be published by the University of Wisconsin Press.

 

She has also carried out a comparative study of emerging political identities and multiculturalism within the United States, Brazil and Argentina. This study led to the publication in 2007 of the volume La Nación y sus Otros. Raza, etnicidad y diversidad religiosa en tiempos de Políticas de la Identidad (The nation and its Others: race, ethnicity and religious diversity in times of Identity Politics). Two of the articles included in this volume were published in English as "The Color-Blind Subject of Myth; or, Where to find Africa in the Nation" in 1998 and "Frontiers and Margins: The Untold Story of the Afro-Brazilian Religious Expansion to Argentina and Uruguay" in 1996.

 

Rita Segato carried out an extensive investigation among inmates convicted for sexual crimes in the city in which she resides, and published a book on gender and violence entitled Las estructuras elementales de la violencia (The elemental structures of violence) in 2003. In 2006 the Universidad del Claustro de Sor Juana published her essay “La escritura en el cuerpo de las mujeres asesinadas en Ciudad Juárez. Territorio, soberanía y crímenes de Segundo Estado” (Writing on the body of the murdered women of Juarez: Territory, sovereignty and crimes of the Second State). Her understanding of prison reality is the subject of her article “El sistema penal como pedagogía de la irresponsabilidad y el proyecto ‘habla preso: el derecho humano a la palabra en la cárcel’” (The penal system as a pedagogy of irresponsibility and the project prisoner talk: the right to speech in jail), accessible on the website of the Lozano Long Institute of Latin American Studies, University of Texas, Austin (http://lanic.utexas.edu/project/etext/llilas/cpa/spring03/culturaypaz/segato.pdf). Also part of this series of articles is “El color de la cárcel en América Latina. Apuntes sobre la colonialidad de la justicia en un continente en desconstrucción” (The color of jail in Latin America. Notes toward the coloniality of justice in a continent in the process of deconstruction).

 

Rita Segato is one of the most renowned experts on the subject of feminicide. Her most recent study is entitled “What is feminicide? Notes toward an Emerging Debate,” in which she argues that feminicide should be considered a special category of crimes against humanity in order to bring greater pressure on governments and international jurists to include it among the crimes prosecuted by the International Criminal Court of The Hague.

 

She has been an invited researcher at the Institute for Research in the Humanities of the University of Wisconsin-Madison and in the Department of Anthropology at Rice University in Houston, and a Visiting Professor at the Center for Latin American Studies at the University of Florida, Gainesville.

 

Irene Simmons

Artist, university educator, activist and creator of the art installation “ReDressing Injustice.” The “Redressing Injustice” project brings public awareness to the hundreds of unsolved murders perpetrated against women living in Juarez, Mexico. The installation features over 400 dresses hanging on pink crosses that commemorate the victims of feminicide and protest the absence of justice in Juarez. Creatively transformed dresses are continually added to this collaborative endeavor by community members in the areas where the installation is shown. The installation has been featured at political rallies, social justice forums, and memorial events both nationally and internationally since 2003.

 

Guadalupe Valdés

Bonnie Katz Tenenbaum Professor in the School of Education and Professor in the Spanish and Portuguese Department at Stanford University. She works in the areas of sociolinguistics and applied linguistics. Much of Guadalupe Valdés’ work has focused on the English-Spanish bilingualism of Latinas and Latinos in the United States and on discovering and describing how two languages are developed, used, and maintained by individuals who become bilingual in immigrant communities. Her interests include language diversity; bilinguals and bilingualism; heritage languages among minority populations; and the teaching of Spanish to Hispanic bilinguals and monolingual speakers of English.

 

Yvonne Yarbro-Bejarano

Professor in the Spanish and Portuguese Department and Chair of the Chicana/o Studies Program in CCSRE at Stanford University. Her interests include queer studies and feminist theories, and the confluence of race, gender and sexuality in cultural representations across a variety of media, especially with respect to imaginings of home, nation and family. Since 1994 she has been developing the digital archive Chicana Art, a database of images and information featuring women artists. She will offer a course on the films of Lourdes Portillo in Fall 2007.

 

Gwenda Yuzicappi

Standing Buffalo First Nation member and mother of 19-year-old missing Amber Redman, who disappeared in rural Saskatchewan, Canada on July 15, 2005. Her case was featured in "Stolen Sisters: Discrimination and Violence against Indigenous Women in Canada," a report released by Amnesty International that addresses the disproportionate number of First Nations women who have been abducted, and how these severe felonies have not been deemed a priority by numerous police forces.

 

Copyright 2007, Center for Comparative Studies in Race and Ethnicity, all rights reserved.

 

FEMINICIDE = SANCTIONED MURDER

ccsre.stanford.edu/feminicide/index.html

I spent time with this magnificent Orangutan today and felt very privileged to capture this portrait of him. The look in those wise old eyes touched my heart. Please take the time to see him in full-screen mode.

 

The orangutans are the two exclusively Asian species of extant great apes. Native to Indonesia and Malaysia, orangutans are currently found in only the rainforests of Borneo and Sumatra.

 

In Malay orang means “person” and utan is derived from hutan, which means “forest.” Thus, orangutan literally means “person of the forest.”

 

Much is known about orangutan physiology and behavior. Yet there is one thing that is still unsolved – the exact reason why some male orangutans develop a flange while others do not. From the age of thirteen years (usually in captivity) past the age of thirty, males may develop flanges or cheek pads.

 

The destruction and degradation of the tropical rain forest, particularly lowland forest, in Borneo and Sumatra is the main reason orangutans are threatened with extinction.

 

This has been caused primarily by human activity (intense illegal logging, conversion of forest to palm oil plantations and timber estates, mining, clearing forest for settlements, and road construction) and also by large-scale fires facilitated by the El Nino weather phenomena. Additionally, the illegal animal trade has been a factor in the decline of wild orangutan populations. Finally, orangutans are occasionally hunted and eaten by some of the indigenous peoples of Borneo as well as migrant loggers and plantation workers who do not have dietary prohibitions against eating primate bushmeat.

 

During the past decade orangutan populations have probably decreased by 50% in the wild. Currently, the IUNC has classified the Bornean orangutan as Endangered and the Sumatran orangutan as Critically Endangered.

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The Silken whisper of Flickering Desires

A Chronicle

Adapted from the Final Entry Entitled:

Their Regal Gambit

Subtitled:

While Sherlock Holmes vacationed

 

The first score had been made, now for the Coup de Grace! So far their little operation had gone as smooth as silk, or in this case, satin. Now just to make sure the husband of the silken gowned brunette displaying the jewels in question was still safely out of the picture! Then Mollie would let her husband know that with the coast clear, freeing him to stage his approach of the lady in the long swishing satin gown he had been keeping an eye on all evening. The one who was wearing the exquisite necklace of fiery flickering diamonds, just daring someone to expertly slip it away the throat of its unsuspecting owner.

 

And therein lay the rub, She happily thought….

 

As Mollie made her way down the quiet corridor to the gentlemen’s smoking lounge, she lovingly played through her mind the series of unfortunate ( or fortunate?) events that had led her and her husband to this place. It had all began with an innocent one named Tabitha…….

 

Mollies’ Flash back

 

They had first come across Tabitha at a resort casino deep in the Catskills. Mollie and her husband had been there about three days, scoping out the grounds, and its wealthy clientele. At the casino they both spotted Tabitha at the same time. She was seated at a baccarat table, really standing out in an elegant dress of gold and black striped silk and velvet Her well-toned body displayed numerous pieces of expensive jewelry. A fat little purse dangled, unheeded by her side. Tabitha had held Mollie’s attention mainly due to the strong resemblance she had to herself. Tabitha’s jewelry, a flashy diamond journey style necklace, matching earrings, wide diamond tennis bracelet, and multiple gem encrusted rings, had held Mollies pickpocket husbands’.

 

Mollie went on to the bar and watched as her husband waited for the seat next to Tabitha to become vacant. Then he sat, asking for chips, while unobtrusively eyeing Tabitha’s bracelet. He began striking up a conversation with Tabitha, finding her to be an easy mark. He soon learned from the chatty girl that she was a divorced, upper executive for a well-known digital arts company servicing the movie industry. It was during this conversation that Tabitha babbled about the upscale, invitation only(you know), black tie formal ball she would be attending in England the next month. Now, as her husband was keeping Tabitha occupied Mollie had walked by the pair, ‘tripping’ into her husband, who palmed off to her , the diamond bracelet which had been ever so subtly slipped from around the unwary Tabatha’s’ wrist. Walking away with the bracelet secured in her purse, Mollie made her way to their small bungalow. Her husband did not break in his conversation with Tabitha; a mark would seldom suspect a friendly person of stealing from her.

 

Later that evening, Mollie wore the pricy bracelet while mutually admiring it over a bottle of merlot with her husband. They discussed the high-class affair Tabitha had been bragging about. Wistfully, Mollie admitted it was a shame they had not received an invite. Her husband smiled, and pulled a thickly embossed and crested envelope from his pocket. Easily adopting a British accent, he said “The silly little twit was carrying this in her purse!” The envelope revealed a pair of invitations to the Princess’s Jubilee Royal Ball. As the pair continued to empty the bottle of fine merlot, what had started as speculation, turned towards reality, and soon plans had been laid.

 

As they lay in bed later that night, Mollie turned to her husband, just think about the jewels that will be worn at the English Ball, she shivered with the delightful thoughts. Do you remember the last time we were in England? Mollie looked at her husband slyly, you remember, the Wriggling Whelp Whispering Wisk! She stated teasingly. Mollie knew the quickest way to get her husband’s goat was coming up with silly phrases to describe his more outlandish endeavors. Such phrases like The Tingling Touch Ice Melt, The Slippery Slick Taffeta Pull, The Glossy Gowned Dangling Peel, or her personal favorite, The Ticklish Wedge Clam Dip, never failed to get a response. In this case the response was a brief pillow fight leading into a romantic interlude, ending up with them in bed as they reminisced about the last time they had “visited” England a few years back…..

It had proven a fairly profitable venture with the jewelry alone netting almost 100,000 pounds. It all had culminated quite nicely at one of the posh events they had crashed that final weekend. Their final score had come about from a rambunctious doe eyed Fourteen year old in a shiny dress who had been oblivious to the valuably delicious gold pendent studded with small rubies and emeralds that sparkled ever so invitingly as it swung from her throat. A pair of matching dangling earrings dripped from her ears as she has run around unminded by her elders. Mollie had indignantly stated to her husband that the antique trinkets were simply just too expensive for a child so squirminly young to be trusted with. Her husband then went about the task to prove his wife correct in her statement.

 

After talking a bit about the English Girls parents reaction to the unsolved disappearance of their daughters ultra-pricey pendent , Mollie came back to the present and asked if the lady in the maroon silk that her husband pointed out the previous evening would be wearing the same jewels to the dance tomorrow night? Or better her husband replied sleepily, good Mollie pronounced, I did like her emeralds.

 

In Merry Ole England

 

They had arrived in England several weeks before the Royal Ball and began the preparations.

 

In an irony of fate, the profit they had realized from poor Tabitha’s bracelet had paid for a large chunk of their little excursion. Keeping his accent, and adding a trim beard, Mollies husband looked radically different from the man Tabitha had encountered. During the weeks following their arrival, the pair had practiced like they always did before undertaking a new venture. But this time it was with a more daring edge, they quite simply could not afford being caught red handed in a foreign country. Mollie assumed her practice the role. That of the richly dressed, well jeweled quarry. Her husband would stalk and attempt to relieve her of a piece of her jewelry as she went about her business, shopping! The idea being that, If he was able to do so without being caught by an obviously aware Mollie, than he should have no problem at the Royal Ball. As it usually happened when they practiced in this manner, her husband did incredibly well. Mollie had had several pieces of jewelry vanish from her person during the week, without her noticing how or when.

 

The final night of practice Mollie decided to dress to kill. Looking quite devastating in a glossy gold halter and a long brown velvet skirt with gold stiletto heels clicking as she moved. A diamond heart pendant hung down from her neck, swaying provocatively out from between her breasts. A bracelet, similar to Tabitha’s purloined diamonds, was wrapped around her wrist.

 

She left their penthouse and made her way to the street outside. Some type of festival was going on as she waded through the crowded streets to the nightclub. Her rings sparkled as they kept rhythm with her swaying diamond waterfall earrings. Just daring her husband to make a move for any of them.

 

Mollie drank and danced the night away with no hide or hair of her husband until she returned late that evening to their apartment. She found him in the hot tub, smirking. She undressed and joined him. Okay, how did u do it she demanded? I felt nothing, no one bumped or brushed against me all evening that I was not aware of. He opened his fist, allowing her heart diamond pendant to dangle freely in front of her. A magician never reveals his tricks my little cat, he purred, as the pendant swayed in a sparkling arch.

 

Cat was short for “Cat Lady”, a moniker he had placed upon her when she had broken into a sleeping woman’s room and removed the jewels from her gold case, and even managed to slip off a ring she was wearing. The fact that she was passed out in a drunken stupor, still dressed in her long party gown, didn’t count , or so her husband teased.

 

You should have been a surgeon! , my dear, Mollie exclaimed with pride. Then she leaned towards him, her green eyes gleaming in earnest, time for a real practice run Mon Cherie, she said in dead seriousness. Then Her eyes opened wide, I got it she exclaimed, I’ll call it The Slinking Sneaky Shearing Snag she pronounced joyfully, getting a face full of water in reply to her effort. Okay Cat, let’s get down to business he retorted, I know just the affair. Mollie listened intensively as her Husband described their next plans, derived while eavesdropping on a couple of ladies shopping in a jewelers.

 

The next weekend (two weeks to the evening before the Royal Ball) Mollie found herself at a quaint upscale wedding reception held in the large gardens of a country church. She was attired in the same bewitching ensemble that she had been wearing on the final night of practice. Her only jewels were a recently acquired pair of sparkly cascading earrings set with emeralds and diamonds. The affair of the plump piqued peacock plucking she had mused while getting dressed. The only other exception was that the long fiery red hair she had inherited from her Irish namesake grandmother had been cut and dyed blond. Blue contacts had also been added to the disguise to hide her vivid green eyes.

 

They soon targeted an older jewel laden snob at the reception. An older lady , well jeweled, of the arrogant know it all, obey me totally type whom everyone tries to avoid. While Mollie engaged the mark in a mostly one sided conversation(the older ladies) the lady had become so deeply engrossed about talking about herself and her ties with royalty, that she never detected being relieved of a heirloom antique gold chain and jeweled pendent by Mollies husband who had approached her unnoticed from behind.

It was all Mollie could do no to bring attention to it by looking at the wickedly expensive piece as it was slipped up and away from the Dowager’s ruffled heavy satin blouse.

 

This time it was mollies turn to keep chatting as her husband headed to the door. He had almost made it when two youths ran into him as they scurried away from a rather sullen looking tween girl they had been teasing, and now were in possession of her purse. Mollie stole a look as she saw her husband topple onto the chasing girl. He managed to extracted himself from the girls long slinky gown that she had probably been forced into by an overly conceited mother. He apologized, and left the girl to go after her antagonizes. Later, when Mollie had caught up to him she teased him about his clumsiness. He just smiled, and pulled out from his vest pocket the most exquisitely matched pearls that the youth had been openly displaying from around her throat and wrist at the reception!

 

They were, most definitely, ready. The fated evening could not come soon enough. But it finally did.

 

They had had no problem with using the fancy invitations to gain entrance. Security was heavy, as expected, but with a very lax atmosphere. Mollie was wearing the salmon coloured gown she had had especially made for such occasions, her new blond hair style and the blue contacts. In a coup foray of sorts, Mollie wore the pearls that had been taken by her husband during his run in with the sullen girl at the wedding reception. Her husband was wearing his usual tux with a hand tied bowtie. His ruffled sleeves easily moved up and down along his wrists.

 

Mollie and her husband split up, each spending the first few hours mingling solo, and taking it all in as they thoroughly enjoyed the Ball and all its many stimulating attractions. It had gone smooth as silk. Spending the first few hours prowling while the guests liquored up Mollie scoping out exactly the right candidates. Dangling jewels with easy clasps were everywhere!, it was surprising how the best of jewel makers skimped on the clasps required to keep the expensive pieces in place. Clothing also made a difference. Silks and satins were quiet and slipped easily. Taffeta could be whispery, more of a challenge. Velvet could easily snag as a piece was being lifted. But these were the costliest of materials, and the wearers would logically be wearing the costlier of jewelry.

 

Mollie and her husband regrouped several hours later, unobtrusively under the pretense of dancing. Gently discussing their plans. They settled on three likely prospects amongst the almost three hundred present. The first was an older spinster type wearing a luxurious dress of embroidered navy silk and displaying jewelry studded with diamonds and sapphires. The second was a middle aged snotty blonde wearing a shamelessly low cut green silk taffeta gown (which Mollie secretly liked)wearing a thick gold bracelet studded with vulgarly large rubies surrounded by a sea of small sparkly diamonds. She was alone, and a heavy drinker. The third was a longshot. A lanky , flighty brunette wearing immensely valuable jewels of blindingly sparkling Diamonds. Her necklace alone was in the upper hundred thousand range, with a clasp that was one of the easiest to coax open. The only problem was that she came with an obviously newlywed husband who doted on her every move. Both were heavy drinkers, and if he would only leave his wife’s side for, say about fifteen minutes, the necklace would be theirs!

 

They had decided that any one of the three would produce results worth a king’s ransom, appropriately enough, all things considered. The plan was for her husband to take his time selecting the easiest jewel to acquire from amongst the ones the three marks were displaying , make his move, and pass it off to Mollie who would leave forthwith, while her husband stayed a little while longer to make sure everything remained calm before making his exit stage right via the hallway.

 

As Mollie went to her station, she saw the Blue silken lady, along with her sapphires and diamonds, leaving with a rather unsavory looking male, eyeing her with a look Mollie knew all too well. Mollie decided to follow them, thinking to herself that some women are just prone to being victimized. Good luck with that one Mollie thought unkindly, as she stole one last look at the ladies glistening sapphires, hope he leaves her with something she sarcastically wished wickedly to the couple’s backside as they went out the exit at the end of the hall. One down and out she thought. Then she spied the husband of the newlywed pair heading down the hall towards her with an older, grey bearded man. Getting close she heard them talking about the Gentlemen’s smoking lounge. Mollie decided to give her husband a signal, but when she found him he was already in the arms of the blond. Molly immediately noticed the absence of the jeweled bracelet from his partners’ wrist. She went back to her table. Immediately she was set upon by some drunken snob asking her to dance. She allowed herself to be taken up into his arms. Spending a few unenchanting minutes with Mr. two left feet, before her husband tapped him on the shoulder cutting in. They danced, Mollie placing a hand into his pocket and feeling something cold and metal wrapped her hand around it. Looking him in the eyes she told him about the now unguarded bride, as she palmed the willowy blonde’s bracelet. They decided to go for it, and as the music ended, Mollie made her way to the hall, where she secreted the blondes bracelet safely away

 

One down, one more to go! An exquisite necklace of flickering diamonds waiting to be nimbly slipped away from the throat of its unsuspecting wearer. Now just to make sure the husband of the silken gowned brunette displaying the jewels in question was still safely out of the picture! Then to let her husband know that with the coast clear, he was free to stage his approach of the lady in the long swishing satin gown he had been keeping a drooling eye on all evening. The one wearing the exquisite necklace of flickering diamonds waiting to be so expertly slipped away from the throat of its unsuspecting wearer.

 

She was able to see the groom in windowed room, the husband and his friend were smoking a pair of long cigars and drinking brandy in large glass snifters. Mollie passed unnoticed as she mad e her way to the ladies powder room. He was still there, only halfway through a long stogie as she passed again on her way back. Neither time was she observed. Mollie mad her way back to the Ballroom. She sat down at one side of the room, once again allowing the sights of so many bejeweled women to soak in. Her husband was dancing with a lady in a flowing red ball gown, jewels sparkling in abundance, not aware of the danger so close at hand, nor that even with her husband and his particular skill set so close to them, that at that moment nothing could be safer from his fingertips. Finally she caught her husband’s eye. Mollie innocently rubbed a finger along the side of her nose, a subtle signal that it was safe for him to precede.

 

Mollie was now uncharacteristically having butterflies in her stomach; it was a huge gamble, trying to get away with a pair of thefts in this inhospitable atmosphere. She kept second guessing herself, Bird in hand she kept thinking. But the lure was too great, and it was with a heavy sigh of relief when Mollie saw her husband finally kiss the hand of the young bride after their dance. Mollie could see that she was no longer sporting the thin silver necklace and its row of at least two caret diamonds that had been encircling her throat with their rippling flashy brilliance all evening. Molly stayed put, not daring to leave until her husband had brushed by her in passing and made his way out the hallway to the exit. She waited for a long fifteen minutes, then curling her hand around the necklace that had been dropped into her lap as he had passed; she gained the safety of the hallway. Just in time. For coming down the hallway was none other than the lady in the long luxurious gown and now bare throats groom and his distinguished looking friend. She passed by them, feeling the men eyeing her with roving wolfish gazes. Then she passed them, and proceeded unhindered to once again enter the ladies’ powder room where the necklace soon joined with the Blondes bracelet in its hiding spot.. Than calmly Mollie left, walking past two security Bobbies, virtually unnoticed. The Groom had been absolutely ignorant to the fact that his young Bride’s ridiculously valuable necklace had walked right past him out the door.

 

Mollie did not let herself really breathe until she had gained the safety of the street. She allowed herself to imagine the commotion as the news of the missing jewels were circulated around the cavernous Ballroom. There would be a flurry of activity, flashes and sparkles as the women checked themselves reassuringly that they were still in possession of their trinkets. Mollie would have loved to have stayed and watched, but obviously could not do so. She rejoined her husband at their meeting place and they drove off. They made their way to Ireland where they spent a cautious week touring before leaving for the states.

 

Once the profit was realized from their haul that eventful evening, including obnoxious Dowagers the jeweled antique pendent, and was added in to the modest amount they had already accumulated from previous adventures, Mollie and her husband were able to retire to Ireland and live quite an unpretentious life together in a small stone manor in the woods.

  

Courtesy of Chatwick University Archives

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The purpose of these chronological photos and accompanying stories, articles is to educate, teach, instruct, and generally increase the awareness level of the general public as to the nature and intent of the underlying criminal elements that have historically plagued humankind.

 

No Part of this can reprinted, duplicated, or copied be without the express written permission and approval of Chatwick University.

 

These photos and stories are works of fiction. Any resemblance to people, living or deceased, is purely coincidental.

As with any work of fiction or fantasy the purpose is for entertainment and/or educational purposes only, and should never be attempted in real life.

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Vintage postcard. Abel Fernandez (left) as William Youngfellow, Nicholas Georgiade as Enrico Rossi, Robert Stack as Elliot Ness and Paul Picerni as Lee Hobson in the TV series The Untouchables (1959-1963).

 

American actor Robert Stack (1919-2003) became a star as Deanne Durbin's young lover in Henry Koster's First love (1939). After the war, he had massive success with Douglas Sirk's drama Written on the Wind (1956) for which he was nominated for the Oscar. Internationally, he became famous as Elliot Ness in the TV series The Untouchables (1959-1963).

 

Robert Stack was born Charles Langford Modini Stack in Los Angeles, in 1919. His first name, selected by his mother, was changed to Robert by his father, a professional soldier Robert was the grandson of Marina Perrini, an opera singer at the Scala theatre in Milan. When little Robert was five, his father was transferred to the US embassy in France. Robert went to school in Paris and learnt French rather than his mother tongue. At 11, he returned to America, and at 13, he became a top athlete. His brother and he won the International Outboard Motor Championships, in Venice, Italy, and at age 16, he became a member of the All-American Skeet Team. He played polo, saxophone and clarinet at Southern California University. A broken wrist ended his career as a sports athlete. He took drama classes and made his stage debut at 20. He joined Universal Studios in 1939. In his first film, he starred as Deanne Durbin's young lover in First love (Henry Koster, 1939). He gave the teenage film star her first on-screen kiss. Around this "event," Universal producer Joe Pasternak provided a lot of publicity. Stack established himself as an actor and the following year he appeared as a young Nazi in The Mortal Storm (Frank Borzage, 1940) alongside Margaret Sullavan and James Stewart. Stack was reunited with Durbin in Pasternak's musical Nice Girl? (William A. Seiter, 1941). In 1942 he appeared as a Polish Air Force pilot in Ernst Lubitsch's comedy To Be or Not to Be (1942) starring Carole Lombard and Jack Benny. The plot concerns a troupe of actors in Nazi-occupied Warsaw who use their acting abilities to fool the occupying troops. The film has become recognised as a comedy classic. Stack played another pilot in Eagle Squadron (Arthur Lubin, 1942), a huge hit. Then Stack's career was interrupted by military service. He did duty as a gunnery instructor in the United States Navy during World War II.

 

After World War II, Robert Stack continued his career. He returned to the screen with roles in films such as Fighter Squadron (Raoul Walsh, 1948) with Edmond O'Brien and A Date with Judy (Richard Thorpe, 1948) with Elizabeth Taylor. In 1952 Stack starred in Bwana Devil (Arch Oboler, 1952), the first major film production in 3D. He played the second leading role alongside John Wayne in William A. Wellman's aviation drama It's Always Day (1954). Sam Fuller cast him in the lead of House of Bamboo (1955), shot in Japan. Stack enjoyed one of his greatest successes with Douglas Sirk's drama Written in the Wind (1956). He received an Oscar nomination for Best Supporting Actor for his portrayal of the alcoholic playboy Kyle Hadley. From the late 1950s Stack turned increasingly to television. Internationally, Robert became famous with his role in the television series The Untouchables in which he starred as the clean-cut Chicago police officer Eliot Ness during the Prohibition era. Around 120 episodes were made between 1959 and 1963. Other leading roles followed for Stack in the television series The Name of the Game (1968-1971), Most Wanted (1976) and Strike Force (1981). The multilingual Stack also took the lead role in the German-language film Die Hölle von Macao/The Hell of Macau (James Hill, 1966) alongside Elke Sommer, and he also appeared in French- or Italian-language productions. With advancing age, Stack also frequently took on deadpan comedy roles that lampooned his dramatic on-screen persona in films such as 1941 (Steven Spielberg, 1979), Airplane! (Jim Abrahams, David Zucker, Jerry Zucker, 1980) or Caddyshack II (Allan Arkush, 1988). Between 1987 and 2002 he was the host of the television series Unsolved Mysteries, which was dedicated to mysterious murder cases. He worked as an actor until his death. In 1956 he married actress Rosemarie Bowe (1932-2019), to whom he was married until the end of his life. The couple had two children. Robert Stack died of pneumonia in 2003 in Beverly Hills at the age of 84 and was buried in Westwood Village Memorial Park Cemetery.

 

Sources: Wikipedia (Dutch, German and English) and IMDb.

 

And, please check out our blog European Film Star Postcards.

“Be patient toward all that is unsolved in your heart and try to love the questions themselves. Do not now seek the answers, which cannot be given you because you would not be able to live them. And the point is to live everything. Live the questions”

 

Rainer Maria Rilke

i still can't remember her face, because when i took a photo, she looked back just for a moment and then crossed the road. i wonder what she looked like. only thing i can remember is her hair and this bag. strangers are mystic maybe some people are better to be left as unsolved puzzles.

 

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A travesty of Justice

 

We are looking for the name (Melody?) and hopefully a photo of a somewhat obscure actress of the early silent film era. She apparently was the victim of a jewel robbery that occurred in her suite in New York City. Her story may have been used to inspire the cover from the Snappy Detective Stories July 1934 issue. We have not been able to find a copy and were wondering if any of the stories matched the cover illustration, and if any actual names were given.

  

She may have been the Lover (Wife?) of a wealthy, influential New York City Business man. One weekend, while he was out of town, she left his South Hampton mansion and went out partying to New York City for the weekend. During that time, she reported to police that she had been robbed in her penthouse suite by a masked burglar to the tune of 75,000 worth of jewelry... In what may have been a rather cruel twist of injustice, an elevator valet with a Juvenile criminal background was arrested for the crime, tried without any real evidence, convicted and put in prison. Years later He died under mysterious circumstances while still incarcerated in a New York Prison. The Ladies jewelry was never reported recovered.

  

The above info was, told to us by an old vaudeville magician who had performed with a young lady whose stage name of Melody was all he could remember. She eventually became a silent era ‘B’ actress under a name he could not recall. He thought she may have had a minor role as an actress appearing in the 1911 silent film version of the Poseidon Adventure.

  

Rumor had it that her apartment was never “burglarized” and that she made up the story to prevent the insanely jealous influential Businessman she was involved with from finding out the truth.

  

But then we came across another story gathered from article that appears to have been derived from some surviving pages (with no cover) out of an old pulp detective magazine of the prohibition era, Real Detective Tales. The ladies name was given as Melinda Victoria Scott se Hamot, but it may not have been her real name. If anyone knows what issue and year the below story derived from that article may have been published we would greatly appreciate it.

  

According to this article, Melinda was a silent film actress who had married a well to do gentleman and was known for the lavish jewelry she would show off. This lady had had been wearing some of her expensive jewelry while out on the town in N.Y.C. On this particular evening (sometime during the 1920’s) Melinda was being chaperoned for the evening by a male with a rather dubious background. This man was said to be a well-known City “raker”, a handsomely roguish man with a well-known reputation for escorting wealthy married ladies, as well as a reputation with the police as having connections with the underworld orchestrating burglaries. His given name was not mentioned. After attending a show and a couple of nightclubs, he insisted that Ms. Hamot go with him to a local underground gambling joint for a few (then illegal) drinks.

  

Late that evening (or early morning), a group of masked hoodlums held up the speakeasys’ patrons. It was believed that they were mainly after the money being gambled. But not only did they take all the money, but they also made the richly attired ladies present hand over all their jewels. Including those being worn by, we believe, our mystery women who supposedly was being robbed in her apartment at the same time.

  

Two weeks later the Actress’s male escort, throat slit, was found floating in the Hudson River.

  

Since some of the male patrons in attendance were in the governments’ employ, Tammany Hall took over the investigation and apparently hushed up the whole incident. The full story never made it to the local newspapers, although supposedly the New Yorker Magazine had some questions (could not find any reference) No crime was reported, no one was arrested, nor any of the property ever “reportedly” recovered. This was the gist of the article that we were able to read in the surviving pages of the old magazine.

  

We have been searching in the New York Times, but have failed to turn up any related story to the speakeasy hold up. Although we did find a few similar stories about women being bound and robbed of their jewels, but no exact matches to the penthouse robbery so far.

  

We strongly believe, based on the vaudevillian’s description of the lady and her mannerisms, that the Penthouse robbery victim, and the speakeasy robbery victim was one and the same Lady. We also think that there never was a penthouse robbery, and the jewels that the elevator valet was accused of stealing were actually relinquished to one of the thugs that held up the gambling joint. The main clue we don’t have is a name for the Lady. This would at least give us a starting point to investigate our theory.

If anyone out could shed some lights on this little mystery, especially the pulp detective magazines listed above, we would greatly appreciate it.

  

As a sidelight, the gambling joint’s robbery was closely reflected in the casino robbery scene from the movie” Uptown Saturday Night” Coincidence or not?

 

Korsika - Cap Corse

 

Cap Corse (Corsican: Capicorsu; Italian: Capo Corso), a geographical area of Corsica, is a 40 kilometres (25 mi) long peninsula located at the northern tip of the island. At the base of it is the second largest city in Corsica, Bastia. Cap Corse is also a Communauté de communes comprising 18 communes.

 

Numerous historians have termed Cap Corse "the Sacred Promontory" and have gone so far as to suppose the name came from a high concentration of early Christian settlements. This is a folk-etymology.

 

The term comes from the geographer Ptolemy, who called his first and northernmost location on Corsica the hieron achron in ancient Greek, transliterated by the Romans to sacrum promontorium. This is not the only point of land to be so-called; there were many others in the classical world, none of them Christian. The meaning is somewhat ambiguous, whether it was called that because of a temple placed there or whether as the end of the land it was sacred to the god of the sea. If the date of the Geography is taken arbitrarily to be 100 AD, and Ptolemy was working from earlier sources, a Christian association is highly unlikely. There is no evidence that Corsica was converted earlier than the 6th century AD, no evidence of any Christian communities in the area in Ptolemy's time, and the concentration of later Christian edifices is no greater than they are in any populated region of Corsica.

 

Ptolemy's interpretation of promontory also is not clear. It has been taken to mean the entire Cap Corse, the Pointe du Cap Corse, or some one of the small promontories on it. Sometimes it is associated with Macinaggio, but the problem remains unsolved.

 

There is some geographic justification for associating Ptolemy's entire tribe, the Vanacini, which are described as "more to the north", with Cap Corse, as it is a distinct geophysical environment. The Vanacini appear in a bronze tablet found in northern Corsica repeating a letter from the emperor Vespasian to "the magistrates and senators of the Vanacini" written about 72 AD, in Ptolemy's time. The Vanacini had bought some land from Colonia Mariana, a Roman colony in the vicinity of Bastia, and complained about the borders fixed by the procurator from whom they had bought it. The emperor on receiving the complaint appointed another procurator to arbitrate and wrote informing the complainants. The inscription is documentary evidence of the historicity of the Vanacini.

 

(Wikipedia)

 

Le Cap Corse est une péninsule d'environ 400 km2 de superficie, au nord-est de l'île de Corse. Élancée au nord vers la Ligurie, elle se rencontre à 33 km de la Capraia, à 83 km de Piombino, à 96 km de Livourne, à 160 km de Gênes et à moins de 175 km de la côte française. La pointe Nord du Cap (42° 50’ 2.34‘’ N) est située en deçà d’une ligne Est-Ouest qui passe par Toulon (43° 7’ 19.92’’ N) et même légèrement plus au Sud que l’île de Porquerolles (43° 0’ 2‘’ N), ce qui place le nord de la Corse à la même latitude que la partie la plus au sud de la France continentale (Pyrénées-Orientales, sud de Perpignan).

 

Dans l'Antiquité, le pays est dénommé Sacrum promuntorium. Il devient, au Moyen Âge, un territoire de seigneuries (San Colombano, Avogari, etc.). Il est partagé en cantons durant la Révolution.

 

« Le pays appelé le Cap-Corse a un circuit de quarante-huit à cinquante milles. Il est partagé en deux dans le sens de sa longueur par une montagne qui se prolonge du nord au midi. Les gens du pays l'appellent la Serra. C'est comme une chaîne dont la cime partage les eaux, qui vont se jeter dans la mer, les unes à l'est, les autres à l'ouest. »

 

— Agostino Giustiniani in Dialogo, traduction de Lucien Auguste Letteron in Histoire de la Corse - Description de la Corse – Tome I p. 7 - 1888.

 

Il est formé par une arête relativement élevée qui envoie en avant, à l'est et à l'ouest, des éperons et des contreforts qui délimitent des vallées parallèles où se sont installés les villages et les cultures.

 

« Dans le Cap-Corse, l'air est partout sain, l'eau bonne ; le vin est abondant, excellent et généralement blanc. Les vins de la côte extérieure sont plus renommés comme vins moûts ; ceux de la côte intérieure, lorsqu'ils sont clairs. La quantité de vin que l'on récolte dans le Cap-Corse est considérable ; on y récolte encore un peu d'huile, des figues et quelques autres fruits. Le sol est rebelle aux autres cultures, surtout à celle du blé. Les habitants sont bien habillés et plus polis que les autres Corses, grâce à leurs relations commerciales et au voisinage du continent. Il y a chez eux beaucoup de simplicité et de bonne foi. Leur unique commerce est celui des vins qu'ils vont vendre en terre ferme »

 

— Mgr Agostino Giustiniani in Dialogo, traduction de Lucien Auguste Letteron in Histoire de la Corse - Description de la Corse, Bulletin de la Société des sciences historiques & naturelles de la Corse – Tome I p. 8

 

Le Cap Corse est une péninsule schisteuse qui s'étend au nord d'une ligne Bastia - Saint-Florent, sur près de 40 km de long dans le sens nord-sud, et 10 à 15 km de large. La région est composée de schistes lustrés, dans lesquels dominent les schistes et quartzites amphiboliques ou pyroxéniques, avec, par places, des calcschistes micacés et des cipolins durs.

 

Quelques exceptions importantes apparaissent dans ce relief. Au nord du Cap, les schistes sont pénétrés par une masse de gabbros et de péridotites, d'où provient la pierre verte bien connue sous le nom de serpentine. Cette pierre d'une grande dureté forme les bosses du paysage, telles que les sommets comme l'Alticcione 1 139 mètres, les promontoires comme le Corno di Becco ou la pointe d'Agnello. De part et d'autre de cette nappe de roches vertes se trouvent deux accidents géologiques curieux. À l'ouest, presque tout le territoire de la commune d'Ersa est constitué par une couche de gneiss amphibolique, granitisé, sur lequel on retrouve les schistes lustrés ; tandis qu'à l'est, au nord et au sud de Macinaggio, le long de la côte, à Tamarone, comme à Finocchiarola, s'étalent les grès siliceux et à poudingues de l'époque Éocène, avec un lambeau triasique de cargneules et de calcaires.

 

La géologie très particulière du Cap Corse a donné lieu à une rareté géologique : l'amiante amphibiolique, une roche fibreuse susceptible d'être filée et tissée. Avec la première révolution industrielle, celle de la machine à vapeur, la demande d'amiante (matériau isolant et incombustible) est montée en flèche. L'amiante a été exploité industriellement à Canari dans une impressionnante carrière en gradins à ciel ouvert, de 1935 à 1965. Le site était à la fois une mine et une usine produisant un produit fini et mis en sacs. Fermée depuis 1966, la friche industrielle est diversement considérée : verrue industrielle au passé sinistre (le mésothéliome ou cancer de l'amiante sévissait parmi les ouvriers) pour les uns, c'est un lieu de visite (illégale) apprécié par d'autres, avec la mode de l'exploration urbaine.

 

L'orographie de la région s'explique ainsi : les schistes luisants et tendres donnent un relief doux, des versants lentement inclinés, des mamelons et des chaînes continus, telle que la crête de séparation entre Rogliano et Luri. Les bancs de cipolins dessinent des ruptures de pente et des plateaux abrupts, comme le Piano de Santarello. Les schistes amphiboliques en revanche ont des crêtes aiguës et dentelées, mais ce sont surtout les gabbros et les péridotites qui forment les plus fortes saillies, les dômes, les massifs compacts isolés au milieu des roches plus tendres.

Coucher sur le Monte Stello.

 

Une chaîne montagneuse, la Serra, s'étend tout le long du cap, depuis la Serra di Pignu (altitude 960 m) au sud, jusqu'au Monte di u Castellu (altitude 540 m) au nord. La Cima di e Follicie, haute de 1 324 mètres, en est le point culminant ; mais le Cap compte plus de dix autres sommets dépassant les 1 000 mètres d'altitude, dont le Monte Stello. Cette chaîne surgit des flots souvent tumultueux du Capo Bianco et de la Punta di Corno di Becco, par une levée de 333 m à la Punta de Pietra Campana et 359 m au Monte Maggiore. Elle se dirige en direction du sud-est vers la pointe de Torricella (562 m), traverser toute la péninsule et finir à la cime du Zuccarello 955 m et le défilé du Lancone.

 

La Serra est la ligne de partage des eaux. À l'est, la côte intérieure est baignée par la mer Tyrrhénienne et le littoral offre des paysages au relief collinaire contrastant avec les paysages aigus et abrupts de la côte extérieure baignée par la mer Méditerranée. Au nord, la côte est baignée par la mer Ligure.

 

Le littoral capcorsin, déchiqueté et accidenté, comprend peu de plages que l'on trouve uniquement au fond de ses anses. Le relief descend le plus souvent de façon abrupte dans la mer, et la route D80, qui fait le tour du Cap sur 110 km, de Bastia à Saint-Florent, offre un panorama de corniche. Un tiers des tours génoises, destinées à protéger la Corse d'attaques navales des Barbaresques, a été construit autour du cap.

 

(Wikipedia)

 

Cap Corse (korsisch Capicorsu, italienisch Capo Corso) ist eine Halbinsel im Norden Korsikas. Sie befindet sich im Département Haute-Corse.

 

Die Halbinsel hat eine Länge von ca. 40 km und eine Breite von ca. 10 km. An ihrem südöstlichen Ende befindet sich die Stadt Bastia. Die höchsten Erhebungen sind Monte Alticcione (1138 m), Monte Stello (1306 m) und Cima di e Follicie (1324 m) (mit der Höhle Grotta a l'Albucciu). Nördlich des Cap Corse liegt die kleine zur Gemeinde Ersa gehörende Insel Giraglia.

 

Das Cap Corse ist verhältnismäßig wenig touristisch erschlossen. Es ist eine bekannte Weinregion, das Cap gibt dem Wein Muscat du Cap Corse seinen Namen.

 

Die korsische Schutzpatronin Julia von Korsika lebte zeitweilig in der Gegend.

 

(Wikipedia)

I'm not going to lie; several unsolved missing peoples cases have been haunting me and my intuition like that of 25 year old, Khayman Welch, who went missing in the Superstition Mountains Aug of 2020 during the pandemic. I haven't forgotten his story or the plight of his family three years later.

.

All these missing individuals have or had mothers and fathers and brothers and sisters. The Superstition Wilderness has claimed many missing souls as well as other places in the Sonoran Desert Region. It's not only in low basin deserts where these strange happenings are unfolding; it's happening in places like the Grand Canyon and many other significant places where I guide tours of visitors to this land.

.

There's a lot of dot connecting that I want to do or feel compelled to do as these cases and stories take up space in my reality and grow cold when it comes to the actual history of these mysteries. I'm allowing these darker energies to visit my sixth sense as I try to interpret them as an artist and researcher.

.

Humans are attached to related phenomena that we can't always sense in the immediate reality and some of this is strongly present outside our perceived reality. One thing I know is certain, there is more to this reality than what our physical senses are capable of detecting. I know this because of my own third eye.

One gallery in the Canadian Museum of Human Rights is a permanent exhibit of the "REDress Project".

 

The REDress Project was started by Winnipeg-based Métis artist Jaime Black 2010.

 

Red dresses blowing in the wind are a reminder of the estimated 1,200 missing and murdered Indigenous women in Canada.

 

The project kicked off at the University of Toronto where more than 100 red dresses donated from across Canada hung in campus trees.

 

According to the Native Women’s Association of Canada, Indigenous women are almost three times more likely to be killed by a stranger than non-Indigenous women, and nearly half of the cases remain unsolved.

 

Permission to use photo

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09 Dec 2018

.

Hi Ted,

 

I am writing from Orca Book Publishers, a children’s book publisher based in Victoria. We are publishing a book for teens called I Am A Feminist, which is meant to help educate and empower young readers about the history of feminism and why it is still so important. We are hoping to include a photo from your Flickr page of Project REDress in the chapter that discussed intersectional feminism and its importance to women of colour and Indigenous women in particular. The image we would like to use is here and I’ve also attached it for reference:

 

flic.kr/p/WZQqZb

 

Could we have your permission to use the image? We would be happy to send you a copy of the book upon its publication in Spring 2019.

 

Many thanks in advance for your kind assistance. We are hoping to go to the printer with this project on December 14, so the request is somewhat time sensitive.

 

All the best wishes,

 

Teresa Bubela

Art director (freelance) for I Am A Feminist

Orca Book Publishers

.

.

 

06 Aug 2019

The book “I Am A Feminist” arrived today.

Delightful book, thank you Monique Polak.

 

The face of the artist is nothing but his mask, since his real "I" remains invisible. According to Steiner, the head having become a kind of hologram of the body, then all the effort of spiritualization of the human being by the artist, will have to relate to the shape of the human head. This is what will happen with the design of the Goetheanum. Once more, we are faced with an objectification of the supersensible domain. The model of Gnostic art for Rudolf Steiner is of course as a work of art the Goetheanum in which he will give substance to his thought. 1965 The model of artistic gnosis for Raymond Abellio is of course a cabalistic diagram: the Universal Senaire Sphere which achieves the synthesis and the program of all his thought. Same. Through these images, we can grasp the artistic project of the first Goetheanum whose architectural elements, such as the columns, the capitals and the windows, owed nothing to chance, neither taste nor even less to functionality, but had to obey requirements particular esoteric and spiritual. The entire Goetheanum was to illustrate the foundations and 16 teachings of Anthroposophy, just as the art of Gothic cathedrals illustrated the foundations and various passages of the sacred history of Christianity. The scene of the Goetheanum was of course the apogee of his artistic project, with the column-seats where the twelve "apostrophes" should sit, next to the carved wooden ensemble, "The Representative of Humanity". which returns as a colored figure under the cupola.

In the rented hall of the Munich State Theatre, the Mystery Plays of Rudolf Steiner were performed each year between 1910 and 1913. The wish arose within the circle around Rudolf Steiner to build an appropriately designed building for these and for performances of eurhythmy. As there were many obstacles from the side of the authorities in Munich, it was decided to redesign the building to be erected on donated land in Dornach near Basel/Switzerland.

Construction began in 1913, meeting with delays during the First World War. Still incomplete, the building burnt down on New Year’s Eve of 1922/23.

The central element, already present in the project in Munich was the ground plan: 2 domes of different sizes resting on 2 large rotundas and interlinked with one another. Because of their particular proportions, they gave the impression both of a single, sculpted space, or also one consisting of 2 separate portions. The pillars along the interior of the building connected with earlier epochs in the development of architecture. Yet each pillar was sculpted individually with a base and a capital whose motifs were carved in such a manner that each new one derived its forms from elements of the previous one. It was Steiner’s attempt to incorporate into the design the laws underlying all development from one form to another in the living world, as in Goethe’s theory of metamorphosis, and to give to these new forms of artistic expression.

Architecture thereby departs from the static, “dead” state and begins to take on elements of a path of animated development. The arts of architecture, sculpture, painting and stained glass windows were united to create a space for the other arts – music, drama and eurhythmy. The building represents an effort to assist what slumbers in each human being as a higher element into full fruition

 

The First Goetheanum: A Centenary for Organic Architecture

John Paull*

University of Tasmania, Hobart, Australia *Corresponding Author: j.paull@utas.edu.au, john.paull@mail.com

ABSTRACT

A century has elapsed since the inauguration (on 26 September, 1920) of a remarkable piece of architecture, Rudolf Steiner‟s Goetheanum, headquarters of the Anthroposophy movement, on a verdant hilltop on the outskirts of the Swiss village of Dornach, near Basel. The Goetheanum was an all timber structure, sitting on concrete footings and roofed with Norwegian slate. The building was begun in 1913, and construction progressed through the First World War. Rudolf Steiner‟s intention was to take architecture in a new and organic direction. On New Year‟s Eve, 31 December 1922, the Goetheanum hosted a Eurythmy performance followed by a lecture by Rudolf Steiner for members of the Anthroposophy Society. In the hours that followed, despite the fire-fighting efforts of the Anthroposophists and the local fire brigades, the building burned to the ground. The popular narrative is that the fire was arson but that was never proved. A local watchmaker and anthroposophist, Jakob Ott, was the only person to perish in the fire. He was falsely accused (in death) as „the arsonist‟ but the evidence is rather that he perished in his brave efforts at saving the Goetheanum. Rudolf Steiner saw the “calamity” as an opportunity “to change the sorrowful event into a blessing”. He promptly embarked on plans for a new building, Goetheanum II. This time there was to be “no wood”. The short-lived Goetheanum I had served as a placeholder for Goetheanum II. This new Goetheanum, Rudolf Steiner‟s finest work of organic architecture, is of steel reinforced concrete and today stands on the Dornach hill right on the site of the old Goetheanum.

Keywords: Rudolf Steiner, Anthroposophy, Goethe, Edith Maryon, Jakob Ott, Marie Steiner, fire, arson, disability, Dornach, Switzerland.

INTRODUCTION

The present Goetheanum building, located at Dornach, Switzerland, is one of the great buildings of the twentieth century (). The world has this building, Goetheanum II, because of three strokes of good luck (karma if you prefer), although they did not appear in that guise at the time. First, was a frustrating bureaucratic denial [1], second, was a catastrophic fire that Rudolf Steiner (1861-1925) described as a “calamity” [2], and third was the arrival of a talented English sculptor who became one of Rudolf Steiner‟s closest colleagues [3].

The original Goetheanum was opened on 26 September, 1920. It was designed by the New Age philosopher, Rudolf Steiner. The first plan was to build a centre for Rudolf Steiner‟s Anthroposophy movement in Munich, but the city authorities denied building approval [1, 4]. It was a source of frustration and disappointment at the time, although it was really a stroke of great good fortune. As the Nazi ideology took root in Germany, Rudolf Steiner was unwelcome and threatened in Germany. After two decades of

living in Berlin, Rudolf Steiner relinquished his Berlin apartment in 1923 and never revisited Germany [5].

Alfred Hummel, who served as a member of the Building Office for the Goetheanum, explains of the denial of building approval: “this could be seen as good providence because the building would have run into great difficulties after the outbreak of World War 1. Munich would have been a place of great danger after 1933” [4: 2]. If the Goetheanum had been raised in Munich, it would have stood a good chance of destruction during World War II since the city was carpet bombed, including with magnesium incendiary bombs, in Allied raids. Such an alternative reality was never tested because shortly after the Munich denial, Dr Emil Grossheintz offered a site for the Goetheanum in Switzerland and Rudolf Steiner took up the offer [1].

The first Goetheanum was a building of very short life. Opened in 1920, it was burned to the ground at the end of 1922. This was a blow to the aspirations of the Anthroposophists and the multinational contingent of dedicated workers

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The First Goetheanum: A Centenary for Organic Architecture

who had laboured through the war, many as volunteers, to create this unique building. Rudolf Steiner described it as a “calamity” [1]. But, the destruction proved to be a blessing in disguise because it allowed a rethink of the design. In place of the original rather quaint structure of Goetheanum I, there is now Goetheanum II, which is a truly remarkable and timeless masterpiece.

The English sculptor, Edith Maryon (1872- 1924), arrived in Dornach a few months before the outbreak of war in 1914, to devote her talents to the service of Rudolf Steiner and his Anthroposophy movement. Here she found her spiritual home and she devoted herself forthwith to „the cause‟. Goetheanum I was already designed and under construction by the time Edith Maryon arrived in Dornach, but she was the sculptor on hand, and by then established as one of Rudolf Steiner‟s close collaborators when Goetheanum II was conceived.

On the occasion of the centenary of the opening of Goetheanum I, the present paper, considers the dharma of the building, its reception, and its passing

Methods

Goetheanum I is, a century on from the opening, beyond living memory. The present account draws on contemporary documents of the time, to throw light on the building, its reception, and its calamitous demise. Documents drawn on include eye witness accounts, personal published and manuscript accounts, newspaper accounts, correspondence, and Rudolf Steiner‟s own comments, explanations and lectures. The original sources are quoted where appropriate.

Results

The Goetheanum with which this paper is concerned is the first Goetheanum, Rudolf Steiner referred to it as the “old Goetheanum”[6], the present paper will refer to it generally as „Goetheanum I‟. When building approval was denied in Munich [4], a devotee of Rudolf Steiner‟s Anthroposophy, the Zürich dentist Dr Emil Grosheintz, offered a site on the outskirts of the Swiss village of Dornach, the site of a famous Swiss battle of 1499 where Swabian invaders were repulsed [7]. Dornach is a brief commute (train or tram, about 15 km) to the city of Basel, which sits in the north west of Switzerland near the junction of three country borders (France, Germany and Switzerland).

The Goetheanum was a project of the New Age philosopher and mystic Rudolf Steiner. He had honed his skills as an orator and lecturer as

leader of the German section of the Theosophy Society [8]. Emerging differences between the Theosophists and Rudolf Steiner led to the establishment of a breakaway movement, the Anthroposophy Society. The Goetheanum was to be the home of the new Society, an administrative centre, and a performance space for Steiner‟s Mystery plays.

Rudolf Steiner went on to design various buildings in the growing enclave of Anthroposophists at Dornach [9], but the monumental Goetheanum I was the first venture into Anthroposophical architectural design on a grand scale, and the Goetheanum II was the apogee of Rudolf Steiner‟s architectural manifestations .

THE GREAT WAR

An Australian soldier, arriving in Europe in 1916, sent a postcard home: “Dear Dave, We have seen a lot of ruined towns & villages since we have been in France. This must have been a nice building once, now ruins, Keith” [10].

In the Europe of the time, destruction on an industrial scale was the order of the day. However, Switzerland remained neutral throughout, and her neutrality was honoured by all the belligerents for the duration.

Construction of the Goetheanum at Dornach began in 1913. Construction carried on through the years of World War I (1914-1918). The Russian artist, Assya Turgeniev, recalled: “Already at the beginning of hostilities Dr Steiner tried to speak to us about the background to the events of the war ... The stirred up chauvinistic moods of his listeners thrown together from all quarters of the globe (we were from about 17 different nations) that did not allow him to continue” [11: 99].

Marie Steiner wrote that, as the war stretched on, the work force was depleted by call-up notices: “one after another our artists were called away to the scene of the war. With very few exceptions, there remained only those men who belonged to neutral countries, and the women” [in 12: vii].

The Goetheanum was built during the Great War using volunteer and paid labour. They came and went. Amongst the privations and avalanche of news of death and destruction of the war: “the work went on as best it could and as far as our strength allowed” [11: 136]. “From all quarters of the globe people gathered in Dornach to help with the building. It was a motley, many-sided, multilingual company”[11: 57]. “Our carving group grew to about 70 in number, not counting those who put in a short appearance ... All financial affairs were

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The First Goetheanum: A Centenary for Organic Architecture

attended to by Miss Stinde. For those who needed it she arranged a modest remuneration” [11: 58].

The artist Assya Turgeniev remembered: “we were only a bunch of dilettantes ... Only the knowledge that we were working together on a great future task and Dr Steiner‟s helping guidance brought order into this chaos. It remains a wonder that the work progresses without any kind of organisation” [11: 59].

With the outbreak of war, “A heavy gloom settled over Dornach ... a European war, was now on our very doorstep [11: 68]. Goetheanum volunteers were called up to return to their respective countries: “Many friends had been recruited and had to depart” [11: 69]. “Our group of wood- carvers grew less and less as further friends were called up” [11: 79].

Figure 1. View of the Goetheanum with blossom trees [source: 13].

A NEW STYLE OF ARCHITECTURE

Rudolf Steiner spoke of the Goetheanum, “The Dornach Building”, in a lecture to Anthro- posophists at The Hague in February 1921: “I have said that the style of this Goetheanum has arisen out of the same sources that gave birth to spiritual science. The endeavour to create a new style of imperfections which must accompany such architecture is accompanied by inevitable risks, by all the a first attempt” [14: 150]. Steiner elaborated: “there is not a single symbol, not a single allegory, but rather we have attempted to give everything a truly artistic form [14: 151].

Organic Architecture

Rudolf Steiner explained his Goetheanum as a manifestation of a new organic architecture: “Concrete and wood are both employed to give rise to an architectural style that may perhaps be described as the transition from previous geometrical, symmetrical, mechanical, static- dynamic architectural styles into an organic style” [14: 153]. The plinth was concrete and the superstructure was timber.

The Goetheanum was organic but not imitative of nature: “Not that some sort of organic form has been imitated in the Dornach building. That is not the case” [14: 154]. Rudolf Steiner informed his audience that: “The least and the greatest in an organic whole has its place in the organism, its absolutely right form. All this has passed over into the architectural conception of the Dornach building” [14: 154]

Rudolf Steiner acknowledged the German writer and polymath, Johann Wolfgang von Goethe (1749 -1832): “it has been my aim, in accordance with Goethe‟s theory of metamorphosis, to steep myself in nature‟s creation of organic forms, and from these to obtain organic forms that, when metamorphosed, might make a single whole of the Dornach building. In other words, organic forms of such a kind that each single form must be in precisely the place it is” [14: 154].

Windows, as all the elements of the Goetheanum, were conceived of as part of an organic whole: “we are handing over this auxiliary building [the Glass House, Glashaus] ... in order that they

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may create something that in the fairest sense may be a living member in the whole organism of our building” [12: 15].

Rudolf Steiner was aware already that not all would be won over to his organic architecture: "I well know how much may be said against this organic principle of building from the point of view of older architectural styles. This organic style, however, has been attempted in the architectural conception of the building at Dornach ... You will therefore find in the Dornach building certain organic forms... carved out of wood, as embodied in the capitals of the columns at the entrance” [14: 154-6]

THE OPENING

The Italian artist Ernesto Genoni, who later spent a year with Rudolf Steiner at Dornach (in 1924) [15, 16] and was a member of Rudolf Steiner‟s First Class, wrote two (somewhat cryptic) accounts of his first visit to the Goetheanum on the occasion of the inauguration (26 September, 1920).

In one account Ernesto Genoni relates: “In Milan I came in touch with the Anthroposophical Society where I took part for a whole year in the study of Anthroposophy. Then my sister Mrs [Rosa] Podreider, for certain business reasons, sent me to Lausanne and said „While you are there you can go as far as the Goetheanum‟. Eventually I arrived in Dornach at the inauguration of the first Goetheanum. There Mrs [Charlotte] Ferreri introduced me to Dr Steiner and I was received by him with great warmth. Unfortunately he was speaking in German which I did not know, but by his long handshake

and smiling expression of the face I could feel his sincere welcome. Here I would like to add this - That was the only time among all the people I met at the Goetheanum that anyone gave me a feeling that I was truly welcome ... So much did I feel this isolation that I decided to return to Italy” [17: 7].

In another account of his Goetheanum inauguration visit, Ernesto Genoni writes: “In autumn 1920 Rosa sent me to Lausanne for selling some opossum skins and then I went to Dornach. What a strange impression I received from the first view of the Goetheanum building ... The short conversation with Fräulein Vreede ... chilly! Frau Ferreri ... the meeting with the Doctor ... the bewildering impression of the interior of the Goetheanum. I could not enter in such saturated life of the spirit and after a few days I left ... the reproach from Miss Maryon. In the following years it was a painful search to find my way in life” [18: 19] (author‟s note: ellipses are in the original handwritten manuscript).

ART OF THE TOUR

Rudolf Steiner wanted the art of the Goetheanum to speak directly to the viewer without intermediary explanations: “Sometimes I had occasion to show visitors the Goetheanum personally. Then I used to say that all „explanation‟ of the forms and colours was in fact distasteful to me. Art does not want to be brought home to us through thoughts, but should rather be received in the immediate sight and feeling of it” [1: 3]. The photographs in the present paper offer an insight into the experience of Steiner‟s visitors (Figs. 1, 2 & 3).

Figure 2. Rear view of the Goetheanum with Heizhaus to the right (postcard)

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NEWS IN THE ANTIPODES

The Register newspaper in Adelaide, Australia‟s city of churches, informed its readers in 1925 about Rudolf Steiner and the Goetheanum: “a man who built a building large enough to contain an audience of a thousand people, roofed by intersecting domes, the larger of them slightly greater span than St Peter‟s, earned a title of serious consideration from all who profess the art of architecture. The building owed nothing to traditional styles. No effect was made by its designer to present an intellectual conception of what the temples of ancient Greece could contribute to the art of modern Europe, nor were the forms of medieval Gothic borrowed and adjusted. In no sense was it a drawing board design.” [19].

The Register continued: “It was conceived and designed, as architecture should be and must be, in three dimensions, and it had to be seen in three dimensions to be understood ... as a first effort in a new presentation of architecture it has probably no rival in the history of art” [19].

Readers in South Australia were informed that the Goetheanum: “was built on the summit of one of the foothills of the Jura mountains, near the village of Dornach, standing out against a background of rugged hills and rocky cliffs ... He deliberately discards the limitations of squares, and one feels that his construction is organic rather than static” [19].

Figure 3. Interior of the Goetheanum [source: 13]. Journal of Fine Arts V3 ● I2 ● 2020

The Name

Even the name of the Goetheanum apparently drew offence. „Wokeness' is not such a twenty- first century phenomenon as some might suppose. Rudolf Steiner explained: “Many people were scandalised at the very name, „Goetheanum‟, because they failed to consider the fundamental reason for this name, and how it is connected with all that is cultivated there as Anthroposophy ... this Anthroposophy is the spontaneous result of my devotion for more than four decades to Goethe‟s world-conception” [2: 1].

Of the name, Rudolf Steiner explained: “this Goetheanum was first called „Johannesbau‟ by those friends of the anthroposophical world- conception who made it possible to erect such a building ... for me this building is a Goetheanum, for I derived my world-view in a living way from Goethe ... I have always regarded this as a sort of token of gratitude for what can be gained from Goethe, an act of homage to the towering personality of Goethe ... the anthroposophical world-view feels the deepest gratitude for what has come into the world through Goethe” [2: 2].

Second Thoughts

Less than a year after the opening of the Goetheanum, and even while the building remained incomplete (it was never entirely completed), Rudolf Steiner revealed that he was thinking of a Goetheanum Mark 2.

At a lecture in Berne on 29 June 1921 titled „The Architectural Conception of the Goetheanum‟ Rudolf Steiner told his audience that: “Naturally one can criticise in every possible way this architectural style which has been formed out of spiritual science. But nothing that makes its first appearance is perfect, and I can assure you that I know all its flaws and that I would be the first to say: If I had to put up this building a second time, it would be out of the same background and out of the same laws, but in most of its details, and perhaps even totally, it would be different” [20: 42]. As events played out just eighteen months later, it proved to be a remarkably prescient statement.

Bad Timing

For sheer bad timing (and perhaps prolixity), a fund raising letter dated 25 December 1922 by the British Anthroposophical Society in London would be hard to beat. The letter explained that: “the Goetheanum expresses in a language of line, form and colour those thoughts and ideas which a knowledge of higher spiritual worlds

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produces in the artist. As a work of art the Goetheanum can only be compared, in its tendency to the supreme artistic achievements of humanity, for it produces in the onlooker the perception of that interpenetration of object and idea of which the true world of art is the outcome, while it raises him to that point within his inner being where an ideal spiritual world is felt to be born into physical reality”.

Then the fund raising letter gets to the point: “The Goetheanum still remains to be completed. The funds at Dr Steiner‟s disposal are drawing to an end. Money is urgently needed to carry on the work. The work MUST NOT STOP ... Let each give what he or she can. In the old days ladies sold their jewellery to enable the foundation stone to be laid” [21].

Just six days after the date of the London fund raiser letter, the Goetheanum burned to the ground (on the night of 31 December 1922). Rudolf Steiner described the occurrence as a “dreadful calamity”. He reminded his audience of “The terrible catastrophe of last New Year‟s Eve, the destruction by fire of the Goetheanum, which will remain a painful memory” [2: 1].

Rudolf Steiner explained that the Anthroposophical Society was misunderstood and that there was calumny afoot: “That dreadful calamity was just the occasion to bring to light what fantastic notions there are in the world linked with all that this Goetheanum in Dornach intended to do and all that was done in it. It was said that the most frightful superstitions were disseminated there, that all sorts of things inimical to religion were being practiced; and there is even talk of all kinds of spiritualistic seances, of nebulous mystic performances, and so on” [2: 1].

The Fire

A local newspaper, the Basler Nachricten reported the news of the New Year fire at the Goetheanum: “The Goetheanum in Dornach-Arlesheim is on fire, was the terrible alarm message that flew like wildfire ... just before the bells sounded in solemn ringing ... On New Year‟s Eve ... at 7 pm , the Goetheanum had a presentation of Eurythmy and a lecture by Rudolf Steiner ... The last audience had left the lecture hall by 9.45 pm ... immediately after the seriousness of the situation was clear, the calls for help were despatched to the surrounding villages and to Basel ... The Dornachers were the first to arrive at 11:45 pm, followed by the Arlesheimers a quarter of an hour later ... Because of repair work, there was scaffolding where the fire was first seen” [22].

Rudolf Steiner put the fire as starting between 5:15 pm and 6:20 pm [23].

Rudolf Steiner related that: “one hour after the last word had been spoken, I was summoned to the fire at the Goetheanum. At the fire of the Goetheanum we passed the whole of that New Year night”. He stated that it was “exactly at the moment in its evolution when the Goetheanum was ready to become the bearer of the renewal of spiritual life”[6].

A newspaper gave an account of the events: “When the double cupolas fell in, there shot up heavenwards a giant sheaf of fire, and a torrent of sparks threatened the whole neighbor-hood so that fire-men had to be sent in all directions to prevent the spread of disaster” [24]. Later, on New Year‟s Day “The sky was veiled in clouds as if to check the great outpouring of people which took place from Basel and its neighbor- hood. For nearly the whole population there was one urge: Off to Dornach! Hour after hour unbroken streams of people climbed the muddy roads and slippery fields, whilst other streams, equally unbroken, flowed down again” [24].

Rudolf Steiner later referred to “the pain for which there are no words” [1: 7]. However, on the day, as Albert Steffen relates, Rudolf Steiner kept his nerve and declared the continuance of the New Year‟s programme: “In the morning Dr Steiner ... was still there ... „We will go on with our lectures as notified‟, he said, and gave instructions that the pools of water in the „Schreinerei‟ (the temporary shed used for lectures) and the dirt carried in by muddied shoes should be removed” [25: 13].

Seat of the Fire

Albert Steffen (1884-1963), Anthroposophist, writer and editor, wrote of the seat of the fire: “Unfortunately a scaffolding, necessary for certain work, had been put up just in the place where the fire was first noticed” [25: 12]. A local Basel newspaper had reported likewise: “Because of repair work, there was scaffolding where the fire was first seen” [22].

Ninety nine years later, accounts of the Notre Dame Cathedral fire of 2019 are reminiscent of accounts of the Goetheanum fire. “The fire began at about 18:43 local time on Monday (15 April). Pictures show flames shooting up around the spire, shortly after the doors were shut to visitors for the day. The blaze spread rapidly along the wooden roof as onlookers gathered on the ground below” [26]. Another account states

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that: “Flames that began in the early evening burst through the roof of the centuries-old cathedral and engulfed the spire, which collapsed, quickly followed by the roof” [27]. Builder‟s scaffolding for repair work are also a part of the Notre Dame story: “Much of the roof was covered in scaffolding as part of a big renovation programme, which is being investigated as a possible cause of the blaze” [26]. Two leading candidates for the cause of the Notre Dame fire are identified: “The catastrophic fire at the Notre Dame Cathedral could have been caused by a burning cigarette or an electrical malfunction, French prosecutors said ... Prosecutors are now looking at the possibility of negligence” [28].

Of the Goetheanum fire, a Basel newspaper reported: “Dr Steiner ... According to him,, who will probably know his way around the construction of the building, the fire must have started between 5:00 and 7:00 in the evening .... The smoke was noticed a little after 10 pm in the so-called „white room‟ on the third floor” [23]. The room, the apparent seat of the fire, was used by one or some Eurythmists as a change room [23]. It was reported that “there were no electrical systems at the fire site”[22].A discarded cigarette butt, a neglected candle or a portable camp stove or heater (the outside temperature would have been hovering around 0o C), or a flimsy Eurythmy costume draped carelessly on a hot light bulb are candidates as potential ignition sources.

The Goetheanum was insured for CHF 3,800,000 and with a further CHF 500,000 for furniture and equipment [22]. A proof of contributory negligence would have voided or severely prejudiced an insurance claim. This, combined with the prevailing persecution complex of the Anthroposophists, was a great motivation for fuelling suspicions of arson. To this day, the cause of the Goetheanum blaze remains an open question [29]. The timely payout of the insurance facilitated the rebuild of the Goetheanum, and the local Building Insurance Act was revised “to protect the state institution against such disasters” [30].

Jakob Ott

One person lost their life in the fire. That was Jakob Ott, a watchmaker from nearby Arlesheim, and a member of the Anthroposophy Society.

Assya Tergeniev recorded that: “When the glowing ashes had cooled, some days later, a human skeleton with a deformed spine was found therein. This deformity was the same as

that of a watchmaker who had disappeared at the time of the fire. It was officially announced that he had come to grief while helping with the rescue work” [11: 129].

A Basel newspaper reported that “Human remains were found in the rubble of the burned- down Goetheanum on Wednesday [10 January]. It is not yet certain whether it is the missing watchmaker Ott ... These are the bones of a single person, who presumably fell from the floor of the dome into the depth of the basement. The skull was smashed ... no one apart from the watchmaker Ott has been missing since that fateful night ... the bone remains were almost completely covered with slate residue from the roof of the dome. The casualty must have plunged into the stage basement below the collapsing dome at 12 midnight. Although all fire-fighting teams had withdrawn at 11:30 pm in view of the building, which was at risk and could no longer be saved, it is easily possible that, due to the thick smoke, a person who might already have been stunned had not been noticed” [31].

Conspiracy theorists of the day, and later commentators, have attributed the fire to arson, but that is not proven, and even named the supposed arsonist as Jakob Ott, and that is proven false. Research of Günther Aschoff has established: “the 28-year-old watchmaker Jakob Ott from Neu-Arlesheim had died in the fire. But he could not have been the arsonist, because he was home all New Year's Eve, then in the evening at a choir rehearsal and at the year-end service in the Reformed Church. (He was a member of the Reformed Church and of the Anthroposophical Society, he procured many advertisements for the magazine "Das Goetheanum" and had also collected signatures for the naturalization of Rudolf Steiner). At about 22.30 he was on the tram on the way home. When he saw the clouds of smoke at the Goetheanum in the moonlit night, he ran up the mountain, to help, which he used to do whenever he was needed. He was present when the fire was extinguished in the small dome at the top of the building, but when the others had already retreated because of all the smoke”. Jakob Ott failed to evacuate likely because he was overcome by smoke or that he lost his footing [32].

Jakob Ott was reportedly just 1.5 metres tall, and a hunchback with “a backbone curvature due to an accident” [31]. Another account simply sated: “Ott had a hump” [30]. He was a man of modest means and lacking influential friends. As a disabled figure, Jakob Ott was a

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ready candidate for „othering‟ and he made a convenient scapegoat for the smug. A Basel newspaper reported: “Dr Steiner, whom we also interviewed regarding Ott ... He himself has no suspicion of Ott” [23]. Rudolf Steiner subsequently attended Jakob Ott‟s funeral [33].

It appears that Rudolf Steiner never referred to the fire as „arson‟. Albert Steffen wrote of „The destruction of the Goetheanum by fire”, he did not write of „by arson‟ [25]. Arson does not rate in the top ten causes of house fires [34]. Arson does not rate as one of the nominated “leading causes of warehouse structure fires” [35]. If the arson conspiracy theory fails, then the quest for „the arsonist‟ is extinguished.

The demonising of Jakob Ott has been an unworthy episode propagated by some who should have known better. One hysterical account about Jakob Ott appears to be mere flights of fancy, ungrounded in fact, and owes more to a fertile imagination than sound research [e.g. 36]. It appears that Marie Steiner has fuelled conspiracy theories: “One of the suspects was the watchmaker Jakob Ott from Allesheim , whose skeleton was found ten days after the fire in the ashes of the Goetheanum which had burned down. It was identified by a spinal defect. Later Marie Steiner wrote „From a skeleton that was discovered, it can be established that the arsonist was burned‟‟ [quoted in 33: 904].

Jakob Ott (1895-1923) died a miserable death by incineration, in a worthy cause of trying to save the Goetheanum. Whether he was overcome by smoke and/or lost his footing, the action of entering a burning building is the act of a brave man.

A Blessing

Exactly a year on from the fire, Rudolf Steiner reflected on the events of New Year‟s Eve, 1922, at the Goetheanum. The venue for the lectures was now the much less salubrious (and cold) Schreinerei, the carpentry workshop, adjacent to the site of the remnants of the fire [37].

Rudolf Steiner referred to the “painful memory” of the final lecture that he had delivered at the Goetheanum, what he now called “our old Goetheanum” [6]. Remembering the night, Rudolf Steiner reminded his listeners that; “the flames bust from our beloved Goetheanum ... but out of the very pain we pledge ourselves to remain loyal to the Spirit to which we erected the Goetheanum, building it up through ten years of work” [6].

Changing tack, Rudolf Steiner urged his audience to move on from the “tragedy” and offered them the recipe for doing just that: “if we are able to change the pain and grief into the impulses to action then we shall also change the sorrowful event into a blessing. The pain cannot thereby be made less, but it rests with us to find in the pain the urge to action ... Let us carry over the soul of the Goetheanum into the Cosmic New Year, lets try to erect in the new Goetheanum a worth memorial to the old!” [6: 4].

Beyond Wood

Goetheanum I was an all-timber construct. One of the building officers related that: “our first director had implored us not to use any iron nail, coach screw or sheet metal in the main wooden structure. These artificial building materials were not to be brought in connection with the noble organic timber” [4: 15]

A few months after the fire, Rudolf Steiner, writing in the April 1923 issue of the periodical „Anthroposophy‟, was quick to rule in a rebuild, that was never in doubt in his mind, while at the same time he ruled out rebuilding in timber: “In rebuilding the Goetheanum we shall probably need to think on different lines ... There can, of course, be no question of a second Building in wood” [38: 38].

In 1923 Rudolf Steiner wrote to the Central Administration of the local Swiss Canton Solothurn: “The new building will stand directly on the site of the old. With regard to the construction of the building as a whole, we bring to your attention that it is to be executed as a solid structure and that all its structural parts, all floors and bearing walls, as well as the roof trusses will be carried out in reinforced concrete. We plan to employ a purely steel construction for the support of the floor of the main stage alone. Timber will be used nowhere as a constructional element in the new building, but exclusively for doors, windows, flooring and floor construction over solid slab floors, for rafters and for fixtures and cladding. As roof material the same Norwegian slate as was used on the old Goetheanum is to be employed. ... We are convinced that the entire building, when completed in this type of construction, will be able to meet all requirements as to fire safety to an unusual degree” [39: 52].

Concrete

By the time of Goetheanum II, Rudolf Steiner already had some experience of reinforced

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concrete as a building medium. The rather fanciful Heizhaus (Boiler House) of 1914 [9], located nearby the Goetheanum, and still standing today, is a creative exercise in concrete. Rudolf Steiner described it as “a remarkable structure” and so it is [14] (Fig.2).

Rudolf Steiner was well aware of criticism of his first adventure in concrete, the Boiler House. He proffered this rejoinder: “This is what is subject to the most severe criticism from some quarters ... I undertook to create ... a shell of concrete - a material which is extremely difficult to mould artistically. Those who criticise this structure today do not pause to reflect what would stand there if no endeavour had been made to mould something out of concrete - a material so difficult to mould. There could be nothing but a brick chimney. I wonder if that would be more beautiful than this, which of course is only a first attempt to give a certain style to something made of concrete. It has many defects, for it is only a first attempt to mould something artistic out of materials such as concrete” [14: 157].

Edith Maryon, Sculptor

Edith Maryon (1872-1924) stepped into Rudolf Steiner‟s life in 1914. It was just before the outbreak of World War I and she quickly became one of his closest confidants. Edith Maryon was an English sculptor trained at the Royal College of Arts in London.

As a trained and skilled sculptor, Edith Maryon brought new skills into the inner sanctum of Rudolf Steiner‟s bevy of talented women, which included the mathematician Elizabeth Vreede and medical doctor Ita Wegman. Goetheanum I was already under construction when Edith Maryon arrived at Dornach. Edith Maryon however quickly proved her skills in collaborative architectural design not just of sculptural elements within Goetheanum I. Together they created the Eurythmy Houses I, II and III (Eurythmiehäuser), a little way down the Dornach hill from the Goetheanum [9].

Edith Maryon brought a feminine influence and a sculptor's panache. Under the collaborative influence of Edith Maryon, Rudolf Steiner was liberated from the overt Freudian features of his earlier creations with his phallic Boiler House and the double-breasted Glass House (Glashaus) and Goetheanum I.

The clay models for Goetheanum II were constructed during 1923, the year of closest

collaboration between Rudolf Steiner and Edith Maryon. At the end of the year, at the Christmas Conference of 1923 Rudolf Steiner appointed Edith Maryon as the head of the Sculpture Section (plastic arts) of the School of Spiritual Science of the Goetheanum [40]. Sadly, by then her health was deteriorating and she passed away four months later. Rudolf Steiner‟s own health took a blow at the close of the Christmas Conference on 31 December 1923. He struggled on through nine months of 1924, before retreating to his sick bed in September, and he passed away six months later.

It could be regarded as fortuitous that Goetheanum I was destroyed during Rudolf Steiner‟s own lifetime and that he and Edith Maryon had developed a close collaborative working embrace that could bring the clay sculptural models of Goetheanum II quickly to fruition. Goetheanum II is Rudolf Steiner‟s final contribution to his portfolio of Anthroposophic buildings and to organic architecture, and more than any of his prior works, it is a monumental and masterful work of sculpture.

CONCLUSION

The first Goetheanum was both success and failure. It was a bold experiment in organic design, a proof of concept that such a vision could be translated into reality, that despite the disruption of war, work could proceed, funds could be raised, a distinctive building could be manifested, and the enthusiasm and talent of a multitude of volunteers could be harnessed. However, an all timber building is a conflagration waiting to happen, it is just the timing of the conflagration that is the uncertainty. In the case of Goetheanum I, the conflagration came quickly, before even the building was completed, before a Mystery Play was ever performed in the space, remembering that a dedicated performance space for such plays had been a large part of the rationale for the building.

The dharma of Goetheanum I was to serve as a placeholder for Goetheanum II. The new Goetheanum took the money from the insurance of the demise of the old Goetheanum, and embraced the lesson that an all-timber construction is not a recipe for longevity. Goetheanum II harnessed the sculptural skills by then on hand, and brought them to the fore to create what is not only a magnificent sculpture in concrete, but is also a functioning building and a delight to work in. Flushed away is the quaintness of Goetheanum I. The new Goetheanum is a bold twentieth

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century building worthy of the twenty first century and beyond.

ACKNOWLEDGEMENT

Thank you to to members of the Goetheanum Archive (Dokumentation am Goetheanum Bibliothek Kunstsammlung Archiv) for kind

assistance in navigating the collection and to DeepL.com/Translator and Google Translate for assistance with various translations.

REFERENCES

[1] Steiner, R., The Goetheanum in the ten years of its life, I. Anthroposophy, 1923. 2(1-2): p. 2-10.

[2] Steiner, R., What was the purpose of the Goetheanum and what is the task of Anthroposophy, A lecture at Basel, 9 April, 1923. 1923, Fremont, IL: Rudolf Steiner Archive, .

[3] Paull, J., A portrait of Edith Maryon: Artist and Anthroposophist. Journal of Fine Arts, 2018. 1(2): p. 8-15.

[4] Hummel, A., A Diary: Life and Work During the Building of the First Goetheanum. 2003, (Trans. Friedwart Bock from c.1955 German original), Aberdeen: Camphill Architects.

[5] Paull, J., Rudolf Steiner: At Home in Berlin. Journal of Biodynamics Tasmania, 2019. 132: p. 26-29.

[6] Steiner, R., World History in the Light of Anthroposophy, A lecture at Dornach, 31 December 1923. 1923, Fremont, IL: Rudolf Steiner Archive, .

[7] Fahrni, D., An Outline History of Switzerland From the Origins to the Present Day. 1997, Zürich: Pro Helvetia Arts, Council of Switzerland.

[8] Steiner, R., The Story of My Life. 1928, London: Anthroposophical Publishing Co.

[9] Kugler, J., ed. Architekturführer Goetheanumhügel die Dornacher Anthroposophen-Kolonie. 2011, Verlag Niggli: Zurich.

[10] Keith, Postcard (with handwritten message on rear): Ypres - La Salle Pauwels (Halles d'Ypres) avant et après le Bombardment. The Pauwels Gallery (Halles of Ypres) before the Bombard- ment and after. 1916, Paris: Visé Paris (private collection).

[11] Turgeniev, A., Reminiscences of Rudolf Steiner and Work on the First Goetheanum. 2003, Forest Row, UK: Temple Lodge.

[12] Steiner, R., Ways to A New Style in Architecture: Five lectures by Rudolf Steiner given during the building of the First Goetheanum, 1914. 1927, London: Anthroposophical Publishing Company.

[13] Uehli, E., Rudolf Steiner als Künstler. 1921, Stuttgart: Der Kommnede Tag.

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Metaxa, G., Typed letter, Dear Friends and fellow members. 2 pages. 25 December. Anthroposophical Society. 1922, 46 Gloucester Place, London.

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Steffen, A., The destruction of the Goetheanum by fire. Anthroposophy, 1923. 2(1-2): p. 10-13.

BBC News, Notre-Dame: The story of the fire in graphics and images. BBC News, 2019. 16 April.

ABC News, Notre Dame fire: Paris cathedral spire collapses as blaze tears through landmark. ABC News, 2019. 16 April.

Vandoorne, S., A. Crouin, and B. Britton, Notre Dame fire could have been started by a cigarette or an electrical fault, prosecutors say. CNN, 2019. 26 June.

Balzer, M., The unsolved Goetheanum case: A play is devoted to the fire of New Year'ds Eve 1922. Aargauer Zeitung, 2019. 2 May.

Basler Nachrichten, Zur Untersuchung über den Goetheanum-Brand. Basler Nachrichten, 1923. 11 January.

Neue Zürcher Nachrichten, Ein wichtiger Fund bei den Aufräumungsarbeiten am Goetheanum. Neue Zürcher Nachrichten, 1923. 13 January.

10

Journal of Fine Arts V3 ● I2 ● 2020

 

The First Goetheanum: A Centenary for Organic Architecture

[32] Aschoff, G., Neues vom Goetheanum-Brand. Das Goetheanum, 2007. 1-2.

[33] Prokofieff, S.O., May Human Beings Hear It!: The Mystery of the Christmas Conference. 2014, Forest Row, UK: Temple Lodge.

[34] Real Insurance, The most common causes of house fires. 2013, Sydney: Real Insurance.

[35] Campbell, R., Structure Fires in Warehouse Properties. 2016, Quincy, MA: National Fire Protection Association.

[36] Ravenscroft, T., The Spear of Destiny: The Occult Power Behind the Spear Which Pierced the Side of Christ and how Hitler inverted the Force in a bid to conquer the World. 1982, York Beach, ME: Samuel Weiser Inc.

[37] Paull, J., Dr Rudolf Steiner's Shed: The Schreinerei at Dornach. Journal of Bio-Dynamics Tasmania, 2018. 127(September): p. 14-19.

[38] Steiner, R., The Goetheanum in the ten years of its life, VI. Anthroposophy, 1923. 2(4): p. 37-41.

[39] Raab, R., A. Klingborg, and A. Fant, Eloquent Concrete: How Rudolf Steiner Employed Reinforced Concrete. 1979, London: Rudolf Steiner Press.

[40] Steiner, M., Proceedings of the Founding Conference of the General Anthroposophical Society. 1944, Roneoed publication. "As edited and published by Marie Steiner in 1944. Translated by Frances E Dawson": "For Members of the General Anthroposophical Society".

  

hal.archives-ouvertes.fr/hal-02566578/document

Here’s why Future Ventures led the Series A of The Better Meat Co., announced today.

 

We are convinced that in the long run, we won't slaughter animals for meat. Although we believe this is inevitable, on Earth and Mars, it takes concerted effort to get us there. And as we saw with electric cars, you have to have a better product to catalyze a change. Saving the world is the byproduct.

 

After investing in some of the pioneers of cellular ag and precision fermentation, we pondered what problem remained unsolved by the mainstream approaches to slaughter-free meat and began a quest for the best cost economics and speed of scaling. For cellular ag and plant-based approaches, cost has been their biggest challenge, and the meat market is highly price elastic.

 

We did a thought experiment: given all of the approaches to alt-protein out there, which will be the lowest cost 50 years from now? We assumed all R&D efforts reach their ultimate end points by then. I think we found the winner: Better Meat goes from seed to harvest in under 17 hours! No plant or animal can compete with that growth rate. The key: growth from cell expansion instead of cell division, part of the magic of the kingdom of fungi. And they have mastered continuous production off simple sugar feedstocks with no waste stream. The only downstream processing is some dehydration.

 

At their current research scale facility (where we visited in the photo above), they already beat beef on cost, and soon chicken. Some of the key drivers from their patented process: fastest growth cycle of any organism, continuous production, minimal downstream processing (unlike plant protein isolates, for example, where most of the plant biomass is byproduct), and it’s a nutritious whole food. It’s also shelf stable at room temperature for easy shipping. So, it should scale more rapidly and cost-effectively than other approaches can ever achieve.

 

Oh, and it is delicious and tastes like meat, even better than pure meat in some blended product taste tests (think hamburger or sausage blends).

 

They are a B2B ingredient supplier, and the first to get FDA and USDA approval for blended meat products. The Series A will allow them to scale to tens of millions of pounds of annual production for a number of large food companies.

 

Company: www.BetterMeat.co

 

Today’s funding news in AgFunder, Vegconomist , Protein Production Tech, and GreenQueen

Honey had fallen for the attractive rogue, whose eyes were only on her jewels.

From a Storyline Fall 1949

  

Rip Kirby is a popular American comic strip featuring the adventures of the eponymous lead character, a private detective created by Alex Raymond in 1946. Displaying the talents of more than a dozen writers and illustrators, the strip had a long run, spanning five decades.

 

After World War II, Raymond did not return to work on any of his previous successful comic strips (Flash Gordon, Jungle Jim, Secret Agent X-9) but instead began work on a new strip in which ex-Marine Rip Kirby returns from WWII and goes to work as a private detective, sometimes accompanied by his girlfriend, fashion model Judith Lynne "Honey" Dorian. Her given name and nickname were borrowed from the names of Raymond's three daughters.

 

Rip Kirby was based on the suggestion by King Features editor Ward Greene that Raymond try a "detective-type" strip. First published on March 4, 1946, the strip was given a huge promotional boost, even including fully painted promotional art, a rarity in comic strip promotions.[1] The strip enjoyed enormous success, and Raymond received the Reuben Award in 1949.[2]

 

During Raymond's years on the strip, the stories were initially written by Ward Greene and later, following Greene's death, by Fred Dickenson. Some sequences were also written by Raymond.

 

*************

Characters and story

 

Comics historian Don Markstein noted how the character of Remington "Rip" Kirby broke away from the usual pulp detective archetype:

  

"Circulation rose steadily during the strip's first few years — even though Rip wasn't the kind of private detective they were used to from pulp fiction. This one did more cogitating than fisticuffing, and smoked a leisurely pipe while he did it. He had a frail, balding assistant, Desmond (a former burglar), instead of a two-fisted sidekick. Instead of carrying on with an endless series of female clients, he had a steady girlfriend, Honey Dorian. If that wasn't enough, he even wore glasses! Even Kerry Drake didn't depart so far from the standard. If Rip was more sophisticated and urbane than the average fictional private eye, that's okay, because he was very successful — both for himself and for the people who wrote, drew and distributed him."

 

In 1956, Raymond was killed in a car crash. King Features quickly needed a replacement and found it in John Prentice.

 

Dickenson continued to write the series until the mid-1980s when he was forced to retire for health reasons. Prentice then took over the writing along with others. Prentice kept the strip going until his own death in 1999. The strip ended with Rip's retirement on June 26, 1999. Prentice received the National Cartoonists Society Story Comic Strip Award for 1966, 1967 and 1986 for his work on the strip.

 

Over the years of publication, the strip was ghosted and assisted by many artists and writers, including Frank Bolle (who completed the last episode), Al Williamson, and Gray Morrow

 

I photographed my copy of the book on my kitchen counter in Tucson, Arizona

 

In Schrödinger's cat experiment, a cat, a flask of poison, and a radioactive source connected to a Geiger counter are placed in a sealed box. As illustrated, the objects are in a state of superposition: the cat is both alive and dead.

 

In quantum mechanics, Schrödinger's cat is a thought experiment that illustrates a paradox of quantum superposition. In the thought experiment, a hypothetical cat may be considered simultaneously both alive and dead, while it is unobserved in a closed box, as a result of its fate being linked to a random subatomic event that may or may not occur. This thought experiment was devised by physicist Erwin Schrödinger in 1935[1] in a discussion with Albert Einstein[2] to illustrate what Schrödinger saw as the problems of the Copenhagen interpretation of quantum mechanics.

 

In Schrödinger's original formulation, a cat, a flask of poison, and a radioactive source are placed in a sealed box. If an internal monitor (e.g. a Geiger counter) detects radioactivity (i.e. a single atom decaying), the flask is shattered, releasing the poison, which kills the cat. The Copenhagen interpretation implies that, after a while, the cat is simultaneously alive and dead. Yet, when one looks in the box, one sees the cat either alive or dead, not both alive and dead. This poses the question of when exactly quantum superposition ends and reality resolves into one possibility or the other.

 

Though originally a critique on the Copenhagen interpretation, Schrödinger's seemingly paradoxical thought experiment became part of the foundation of quantum mechanics. The scenario is often featured in theoretical discussions of the interpretations of quantum mechanics, particularly in situations involving the measurement problem. The experiment is not intended to be actually performed on a cat, but rather as an easily understandable illustration of the behavior of atoms. As a result, Schrödinger's cat has had enduring appeal in popular culture. Experiments at the atomic scale have been carried out, showing that very small objects may be superimposed; superimposing an object as large as a cat would pose considerable technical difficulties.

 

Fundamentally, the Schrödinger's cat experiment asks how long superpositions last and when (or whether) they collapse. Interpretations for resolving this question include that the cat is dead or alive when the box is opened (Copenhagen); that a conscious mind must observe the box (Von Neumann–Wigner); that upon observation, the universe branches into one universe where the cat is alive and another one where it is dead (many-worlds); that every object (such as the cat, and the box itself) is an observer, but superposition is relative depending on the observer (relational); that superposition never truly exists due to time-travelling waves (transactional); that merely observing the box either slows or accelerates the cat's death (quantum Zeno effect); among other theories that assert that the cat is dead or alive long before the box is opened. It is unclear which interpretation is correct; the underlying issue raised by Schrödinger's cat remains an unsolved problem in physics.

  

Origin And Motivation

Schrödinger intended his thought experiment as a discussion of the EPR article—named after its authors Einstein, Podolsky, and Rosen—in 1935.[3][4] The EPR article highlighted the counterintuitive nature of quantum superpositions, in which a quantum system such as an atom or photon can exist as a combination of multiple states corresponding to different possible outcomes.

 

The prevailing theory, called the Copenhagen interpretation, says that a quantum system remains in superposition until it interacts with, or is observed by, the external world. When this happens, the superposition collapses into one or another of the possible definite states. The EPR experiment shows that a system with multiple particles separated by large distances can be in such a superposition. Schrödinger and Einstein exchanged letters about Einstein's EPR article, in the course of which Einstein pointed out that the state of an unstable keg of gunpowder will, after a while, contain a superposition of both exploded and unexploded states.[4]

 

To further illustrate, Schrödinger described how one could, in principle, create a superposition in a large-scale system by making it dependent on a quantum particle that was in a superposition. He proposed a scenario with a cat in a locked steel chamber, wherein the cat's life or death depended on the state of a radioactive atom, whether it had decayed and emitted radiation or not. According to Schrödinger, the Copenhagen interpretation implies that the cat remains both alive and dead until the state has been observed. Schrödinger did not wish to promote the idea of dead-and-live cats as a serious possibility; on the contrary, he intended the example to illustrate the absurdity of the existing view of quantum mechanics.[1]

 

Since Schrödinger's time, various interpretations of the mathematics of quantum mechanics have been advanced by physicists, some of which regard the "alive and dead" cat superposition as quite real, others do not.[5][6] Intended as a critique of the Copenhagen interpretation (the prevailing orthodoxy in 1935), the Schrödinger's cat thought experiment remains a touchstone for modern interpretations of quantum mechanics and can be used to illustrate and compare their strengths and weaknesses.[7]

  

Thought experiment

Schrödinger wrote: [1][8]

One can even set up quite ridiculous cases. A cat is penned up in a steel chamber, along with the following device (which must be secured against direct interference by the cat): in a Geiger counter, there is a tiny bit of radioactive substance, so small, that perhaps in the course of the hour one of the atoms decays, but also, with equal probability, perhaps none; if it happens, the counter tube discharges and through a relay releases a hammer that shatters a small flask of hydrocyanic acid. If one has left this entire system to itself for an hour, one would say that the cat still lives. if meanwhile, no atom has decayed. The first atomic decay would have poisoned it. The psi-function of the entire system would express this by having in it the living and dead cat (pardon the expression) mixed or smeared out in equal parts.

 

It is typical of these cases that an indeterminacy originally restricted to the atomic domain becomes transformed into macroscopic indeterminacy, which can then be resolved by direct observation. That prevents us from so naïvely accepting as valid a "blurred model" for representing reality. In itself, it would not embody anything unclear or contradictory. There is a difference between a shaky or out-of-focus photograph and a snapshot of clouds and fog banks.

 

Schrödinger's famous thought experiment poses the question, "When does a quantum system stop existing as a superposition of states and become one or the other?" (More technically, when does the actual quantum state stop being a non-trivial linear combination of states, each of which resembles different classical states, and instead begin to have a unique classical description?) If the cat survives, it remembers only being alive. But explanations of the EPR experiments that are consistent with standard microscopic quantum mechanics require that macroscopic objects, such as cats and notebooks, do not always have unique classical descriptions. The thought experiment illustrates this apparent paradox. Our intuition says that no observer can be in more than one state simultaneously—yet the cat, it seems from the thought experiment, can be in such a condition. Is the cat required to be an observer, or does its existence in a single well-defined classical state require another external observer? Each alternative seemed absurd to Einstein, who was impressed by the ability of the thought experiment to highlight these issues. In a letter to Schrödinger dated 1950, he wrote:

 

You are the only contemporary physicist, besides Laue, who sees that one cannot get around the assumption of reality, if only one is honest. Most of them simply do not see what sort of risky game they are playing with reality — reality as something independent of what is experimentally established. Their interpretation is, however, refuted most elegantly by your system of radioactive atom + amplifier + charge of gun powder + cat in a box, in which the psi-function of the system contains both the cat alive and blown to bits. Nobody really doubts that the presence or absence of the cat is something independent of the act of observation.[9]

 

Note that the charge of gunpowder is not mentioned in Schrödinger's setup, which uses a Geiger counter as an amplifier and hydrocyanic poison instead of gunpowder. The gunpowder had been mentioned in Einstein's original suggestion to Schrödinger 15 years before, and Einstein carried it forward to the present discussion.[4]

  

Interpretations

 

Since Schrödinger's time, other interpretations of quantum mechanics have been proposed that give different answers to the questions posed by Schrödinger's cat of how long superpositions last and when (or whether) they collapse.

 

Copenhagen interpretation

 

Main article: Copenhagen interpretation

A commonly held interpretation of quantum mechanics is the Copenhagen interpretation.[10] In the Copenhagen interpretation, a system stops being a superposition of states and becomes either one or the other when an observation takes place. This thought experiment makes apparent the fact that the nature of measurement, or observation, is not well-defined in this interpretation. The experiment can be interpreted to mean that while the box is closed, the system simultaneously exists in a superposition of the states "decayed nucleus/dead cat" and "undecayed nucleus/living cat" and that only when the box is opened and an observation performed does the wave function collapse into one of the two states.

  

Von Neumann interpretation

 

Main article: Von Neumann–Wigner interpretation

In 1932, John von Neumann described in his book Mathematical Foundations a pattern where the radioactive source is observed by a device, which itself is observed by another device and so on. It makes no difference in the predictions of quantum theory where along this chain of causal effects the superposition collapses.[11] This potentially infinite chain could be broken if the last device is replaced by a conscious observer. This solved the problem because it was claimed that an individual's consciousness cannot be multiple.[12] Neumann asserted that a conscious observer is necessary for collapse to one or the other (e.g., either a live cat or a dead cat) of the terms on the right-hand side of a wave function. This interpretation was later adopted by Eugene Wigner, who then rejected the interpretation in a thought experiment known as Wigner's friend.[13]

  

Wigner supposed that a friend opened the box and observed the cat without telling anyone. From Wigner's conscious perspective, the friend is now part of the wave function and has seen a live cat and seen a dead cat. To a third person's conscious perspective, Wigner himself becomes part of the wave function once Wigner learns the outcome from the friend. This could be extended indefinitely.[13]

  

Bohr's interpretation

 

One of the main scientists associated with the Copenhagen interpretation, Niels Bohr, offered an interpretation that is independent of a subjective observer-induced collapse of the wave function, or of measurement; instead, an "irreversible" or effectively irreversible process causes the decay of quantum coherence, which imparts the classical behavior of "observation" or "measurement".[14][15][16][17] Thus, Schrödinger's cat would be either dead or alive long before the box is observed.[18]

 

A resolution of the paradox is that the triggering of the Geiger counter counts as a measurement of the state of the radioactive substance. Because a measurement has already occurred deciding the state of the cat, the subsequent observation by a human records only what has already occurred.[19] Analysis of an actual experiment by Roger Carpenter and A. J. Anderson found that measurement alone (for example by a Geiger counter) is sufficient to collapse a quantum wave function before any human knows of the result.[20] The apparatus indicates one of two colors depending on the outcome. The human observer sees which color is indicated, but they don't consciously know which outcome the color represents. A second human, the one who set up the apparatus, is told of the color and becomes conscious of the outcome, and the box is opened to check if the outcome matches.[11] However, it is disputed whether merely observing the color counts as a conscious observation of the outcome.[21]

  

Many-worlds interpretation and consistent histories

 

Main article: Many-worlds interpretation

In 1957, Hugh Everett formulated the many-worlds interpretation of quantum mechanics, which does not single out observation as a special process. In the many-worlds interpretation, both alive and dead states of the cat persist after the box is opened, but are decoherent from each other. In other words, when the box is opened, the observer and the possibly dead cat split into an observer looking at a box with a dead cat and an observer looking at a box with a live cat. But since the dead and alive states are decoherent, there is no effective communication or interaction between them.

 

When opening the box, the observer becomes entangled with the cat, so "observer states" corresponding to the cat's being alive and dead are formed; each observer state is entangled, or linked, with the cat so that the observation of the cat's state and the cat's state correspond with each other. Quantum decoherence ensures that the different outcomes have no interaction with each other. The same mechanism of quantum decoherence is also important for the interpretation in terms of consistent histories. Only the "dead cat" or the "live cat" can be a part of a consistent history in this interpretation. Decoherence is generally considered to prevent simultaneous observation of multiple states.[22][23]

 

A variant of the Schrödinger's cat experiment, known as the quantum suicide machine, has been proposed by cosmologist Max Tegmark. It examines the Schrödinger's cat experiment from the point of view of the cat, and argues that by using this approach, one may be able to distinguish between the Copenhagen interpretation and many-worlds.

  

Ensemble interpretation

 

The ensemble interpretation states that superpositions are nothing but subensembles of a larger statistical ensemble. The state vector would not apply to individual cat experiments, but only to the statistics of many similarly prepared cat experiments. Proponents of this interpretation state that this makes the Schrödinger's cat paradox a trivial matter, or a non-issue.

  

This interpretation serves to discard the idea that a single physical system in quantum mechanics has a mathematical description that corresponds to it in any way.[24]

  

Relational interpretation

 

The relational interpretation makes no fundamental distinction between the human experimenter, the cat, and the apparatus or between animate and inanimate systems; all are quantum systems governed by the same rules of wavefunction evolution, and all may be considered "observers". But the relational interpretation allows that different observers can give different accounts of the same series of events, depending on the information they have about the system.[25] The cat can be considered an observer of the apparatus; meanwhile, the experimenter can be considered another observer of the system in the box (the cat plus the apparatus). Before the box is opened, the cat, by nature of its being alive or dead, has information about the state of the apparatus (the atom has either decayed or not decayed); but the experimenter does not have information about the state of the box contents. In this way, the two observers simultaneously have different accounts of the situation: To the cat, the wavefunction of the apparatus has appeared to "collapse"; to the experimenter, the contents of the box appear to be in superposition. Not until the box is opened, and both observers have the same information about what happened, do both system states appear to "collapse" into the same definite result, a cat that is either alive or dead.

  

Transactional interpretation

 

In the transactional interpretation, the apparatus emits an advanced wave backward in time, which combined with the wave that the source emits forward in time, forms a standing wave. The waves are seen as physically real, and the apparatus is considered an "observer". In the transactional interpretation, the collapse of the wavefunction is "atemporal" and occurs along the whole transaction between the source and the apparatus. The cat is never in superposition. Rather the cat is only in one state at any particular time, regardless of when the human experimenter looks in the box. The transactional interpretation resolves this quantum paradox.[26]

  

Zeno effects

 

The Zeno effect is known to cause delays to any changes from the initial state.

 

On the other hand, the anti-Zeno effect accelerates the changes. For example, if you peek a look into the cat box frequently you may either cause delays to the fateful choice or, conversely, accelerate it. Both the Zeno effect and the anti-Zeno effect are real and known to happen to real atoms. The quantum system being measured must be strongly coupled to the surrounding environment (in this case to the apparatus, the experiment room ... etc.) in order to obtain more accurate information. But while there is no information passed to the outside world, it is considered to be a quasi-measurement, but as soon as the information about the cat's well-being is passed on to the outside world (by peeking into the box) quasi-measurement turns into measurement. Quasi-measurements, like measurements, cause the Zeno effects.[27]

Zeno effects teach us that even without peeking into the box, the death of the cat would have been delayed or accelerated anyway due to its environment.

  

Objective collapse theories

 

According to objective collapse theories, superpositions are destroyed spontaneously (irrespective of external observation) when some objective physical threshold (of time, mass, temperature, irreversibility, etc.) is reached. Thus, the cat would be expected to have settled into a definite state long before the box is opened. This could loosely be phrased as "the cat observes itself" or "the environment observes the cat".

 

Objective collapse theories require a modification of standard quantum mechanics to allow superpositions to be destroyed by the process of time evolution.[28] These theories could ideally be tested by creating mesoscopic superposition states in the experiment. For instance, energy cat states has been proposed as a precise detector of the quantum gravity related energy decoherence models.[29]

  

Applications and tests

 

Schrödinger's cat quantum superposition of states and effect of the environment through decoherence

The experiment as described is a purely theoretical one, and the machine proposed is not known to have been constructed. However, successful experiments involving similar principles, e.g. superpositions of relatively large (by the standards of quantum physics) objects have been performed.[30][better source needed] These experiments do not show that a cat-sized object can be superposed, but the known upper limit on "cat states" has been pushed upwards by them. In many cases the state is short-lived, even when cooled to near absolute zero.

 

A "cat state" has been achieved with photons.[31]

A beryllium ion has been trapped in a superposed state.[32]

An experiment involving a superconducting quantum interference device ("SQUID") has been linked to the theme of the thought experiment: "The superposition state does not correspond to a billion electrons flowing one way and a billion others flowing the other way. Superconducting electrons move en masse. All the superconducting electrons in the SQUID flow both ways around the loop at once when they are in the Schrödinger's cat state."[33]

A piezoelectric "tuning fork" has been constructed, which can be placed into a superposition of vibrating and non-vibrating states. The resonator comprises about 10 trillion atoms.[34]

An experiment involving a flu virus has been proposed.[35]

An experiment involving a bacterium and an electromechanical oscillator has been proposed.[36]

In quantum computing the phrase "cat state" sometimes refers to the GHZ state, wherein several qubits are in an equal superposition of all being 0 and all being 1; e.g.,

  

|\psi \rangle ={\frac {1}{\sqrt {2}}}{\bigg (}|00\ldots 0\rangle +|11\ldots 1\rangle {\bigg )}.

According to at least one proposal, it may be possible to determine the state of the cat before observing it.[37][38]

  

Extensions

 

Prominent physicists have gone so far as to suggest that astronomers observing dark energy in the universe in 1998 may have "reduced its life expectancy" through a pseudo-Schrödinger's cat scenario, although this is a controversial viewpoint.[39][40]

  

In August 2020, physicists presented studies involving interpretations of quantum mechanics that are related to the Schrödinger's cat and Wigner's friend paradoxes, resulting in conclusions that challenge seemingly established assumptions about reality.[41][42][43]

  

See also

 

iconPhysics portal

Basis function

Complementarity (physics)

Double-slit experiment

Elitzur–Vaidman bomb tester

Heisenberg cut

Modal realism

Observer effect (physics)

Schroedinbug

Schrödinger's cat in popular culture

References

  

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Cramer, John G. (July 1986). The transactional interpretation of quantum mechanics. Vol. 58. Reviews of Modern Physics. pp. 647–685.none

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Okon, Elias; Sudarsky, Daniel (2014-02-01). "Benefits of Objective Collapse Models for Cosmology and Quantum Gravity". Foundations of Physics. 44 (2): 114–143. arXiv:1309.1730. Bibcode:2014FoPh...44..114O. doi:10.1007/s10701-014-9772-6. ISSN 1572-9516. S2CID 67831520.none

Khazali, Mohammadsadegh; Lau, Hon Wai; Humeniuk, Adam; Simon, Christoph (2016-08-11). "Large energy superpositions via Rydberg dressing". Physical Review A. 94 (2): 023408. arXiv:1509.01303. Bibcode:2016PhRvA..94b3408K. doi:10.1103/physreva.94.023408. ISSN 2469-9926. S2CID 118364289.none

"What is the world's biggest Schrodinger cat?". stackexchange.com. Archived from the original on 2012-01-08.none

"Schrödinger's Cat Now Made Of Light". www.science20.com. 27 August 2014. Archived from the original on 18 March 2012.none

Monroe, C.; Meekhof, D. M.; King, B. E.; Wineland, D. J. (1996-05-24). "A "Schrödinger's cat" Superposition State of an Atom". Science. 272 (5265): 1131–1136. Bibcode:1996Sci...272.1131M. doi:10.1126/science.272.5265.1131. PMID 8662445. S2CID 2311821.none

"Physics World: Schrödinger's cat comes into view". 5 July 2000.none

Scientific American : Macro-Weirdness: "Quantum Microphone" Puts Naked-Eye Object in 2 Places at Once: A new device tests the limits of Schrödinger's cat Archived 2012-03-19 at the Wayback Machine

Romero-Isart, O.; Juan, M. L.; Quidant, R.; Cirac, J. I. (2010). "Toward Quantum Superposition of Living Organisms". New Journal of Physics. 12 (3): 033015. arXiv:0909.1469. Bibcode:2010NJPh...12c3015R. doi:10.1088/1367-2630/12/3/033015. S2CID 59151724.none

"Could 'Schrödinger's bacterium' be placed in a quantum superposition?". physicsworld.com. Archived from the original on 2016-07-30.none

Najjar, Dana (7 November 2019). "Physicists Can Finally Peek at Schrödinger's Cat Without Killing It Forever". Live Science. Retrieved 7 November 2019.none

Patekar, Kartik; Hofmann, Holger F. (2019). "The role of system–meter entanglement in controlling the resolution and decoherence of quantum measurements". New Journal of Physics. 21 (10): 103006. arXiv:1905.09978. Bibcode:2019NJPh...21j3006P. doi:10.1088/1367-2630/ab4451.none

Chown, Marcus (2007-11-22). "Has observing the universe hastened its end?". New Scientist. Archived from the original on 2016-03-10. Retrieved 2007-11-25.none

Krauss, Lawrence M.; James Dent (April 30, 2008). "Late Time Behavior of False Vacuum Decay: Possible Implications for Cosmology and Metastable Inflating States". Phys. Rev. Lett. US. 100 (17): 171301. arXiv:0711.1821. Bibcode:2008PhRvL.100q1301K. doi:10.1103/PhysRevLett.100.171301. PMID 18518269. S2CID 30028648.none

Merali, Zeeya (17 August 2020). "This Twist on Schrödinger's Cat Paradox Has Major Implications for Quantum Theory - A laboratory demonstration of the classic "Wigner's friend" thought experiment could overturn cherished assumptions about reality". Scientific American. Retrieved 17 August 2020.none

Musser, George (17 August 2020). "Quantum paradox points to shaky foundations of reality". Science Magazine. Retrieved 17 August 2020.none

Bong, Kok-Wei; et al. (17 August 2020). "A strong no-go theorem on the Wigner's friend paradox". Nature Physics. 27 (12): 1199–1205. arXiv:1907.05607. Bibcode:2020NatPh..16.1199B. doi:10.1038/s41567-020-0990-x.none

Further reading

  

Einstein, Albert; Podolsky, Boris; Rosen, Nathan (15 May 1935). "Can Quantum-Mechanical Description of Physical Reality Be Considered Complete?". Physical Review. 47 (10): 777–780. Bibcode:1935PhRv...47..777E. doi:10.1103/PhysRev.47.777.none

Leggett, Tony (August 2000). "New Life for Schrödinger's Cat" (PDF). Physics World. pp. 23–24. Retrieved 28 February 2020.none An article on experiments with "cat state" superpositions in superconducting rings, in which the electrons go around the ring in two directions simultaneously.

Trimmer, John D. (1980). "The Present Situation in Quantum Mechanics: A Translation of Schrödinger's "Cat Paradox" Paper". Proceedings of the American Philosophical Society. 124 (5): 323–338. JSTOR 986572.none(registration required)

Yam, Phillip (October 9, 2012). "Bringing Schrödinger's Cat to Life". Scientific American. Retrieved 28 February 2020. A description of investigations of quantum "cat states" and wave function collapse by Serge Haroche and David J. Wineland, for which they won the 2012 Nobel Prize in Physics.

Kalmbach, Gudrun (1983). Orthomodular Lattices. Academic Press.

At first the display caught my eye as I thought the mannequin had fallen over. then I saw the flowers, then the book cover..... then appreciated how much thought had gone into the display.

 

But when you have a book shop combined with an artists supplies shop, I guess you shouldn't be surprised to find artistic talents.

 

The book is Cursed Bread, by Sophie Mackintosh and it centers on the unsolved mystery of the 1951 mass poisoning of a French village

 

123 in 2023 no 9 artistic

Built 1903 Architect - unknown .... in Neo-Tudor / Queen Anne style .... Ambrose Joseph Small (January 11, 1863 – vanished December 2, 1919) was a Canadian theatre magnate & self-made millionaire, who owned theatres in several Ontario cities including the Grand Opera House in Toronto, the Grand Opera House in Kingston, and the Grand Theatre in London, Ontario.

On 2 December 1919, Small disappeared and his body was never recovered, he was 56 years old. It was alleged at the time that Small's wife and her lover killed Small and cremated his body in the London Ontario Grand Opera theater furnace (one of Small's holdings). It was further alleged that a police inspector was involved in a "cover-up" of Small's disappearance. The police launched an extensive investigation in the disappearance of Ambrose Small. Small was officially declared dead in 1924. The case remained unsolved, until being officially closed in 1960 ....

Best True Fact Detective magazine cover, January circa 1950

HOWELL DODD

 

The study below was derived from facts uncovered while doing research for the following Doctorial dissertation:

Light to the shadows of their mind:

Criminal tatics and strategies

Criminology Department Dept.

Chatwick University

 

**************************** Story ***************************

 

Mae, had been having quite a rewarding chat with a charmingly attired young lady, all of seventeen, whom Mae had caught scurrying unsupervised amongst the Mansions’ other guests, when she suddenly felt a shocking vibe.

 

At the same time the seventeen year old turned her head away, her long hair swirling to behind her back, as she gazed at a sobbing lady treaded past her. The forlorn figure woefully alighting on a small stone bench located along a back wall. Mae, for a second blinded as the diamond in the girls swaying pearl earring caught the light of a chandelier, turned her head to watch also.

 

Making a call in judgment, Mae then finished her conversation with the fidgety young thing, letting her go on to rejoin the party. As she watched the silken and lace clad youth swirled away, a curiously pained expression crossed Mae’s face. She had almost convinced the pretty young thing to….

 

Oh well ,Mae said to herself, Trust in instinct. She then turned, focusing her attention to the limp, sobbing form now seated on the bench.

 

Oozing with compassion, Mae walked over to the weeping young lady. Sitting on the bench next to her Mae placed a comforting arm around her and drew her close. She handed the girl her silky laced handkerchief, to dry her eyes with,” Here my dear, you don’t want to stain that pretty gown!” Mae said, while lovingly pulling back the sobbing girls wave of corn silk coloured hair. The young lady took it, gratefully accepting this unknown woman’s sympathy. Taking the handkerchief with a gloved hand she buried her eyes into it ,rings and a bracelet twinkling merrily , mutely ignorant of their mistress’s wretchedness. Mae meet the girls sad gaze with her kind gypsy like eyes, gaining the poor young things’ confidence. Slowly Mae calmed her down enough to begin extracting the girl’s source of woe between racking sobs.

 

It seemed that the ladies fiancé had been dancing too close with a female friend of hers, and she was afraid he was going to call off the wedding after he snapped at her for bringing the matter to his attention. Mae patted the girl matronly on the back, telling her to go to the powder room to freshen up while she had a word with him on her account. The girl cheered up a little, really she said, hugging Mae that would be wonderful, and she obediently swept off without any question, so strong was Mae’s persuasiveness.

 

Ten minutes later Mae joined the girl in the powder room, telling her that it had all been a misunderstanding, and he wanted to meet with her in private to patch things up. As Mae spoke she helped straighten the girls luxuriously long satin gown, you want to look good for him she explained, watching a smile enchantingly brighten up her pretty face.

 

Collecting the girls wrap, Mae accompanied her out the back door leading into an ancient garden. Along one side an alley edged the street that separated the garden from the surrounding, rundown neighborhoods. The alley passed an old greenhouse, and it was there that Mae pointed out to the girl, “your fiancé awaits”, and without hesitation, the young lady allowed Mae to start to escort her there.

 

It was then that Mae saw the cop across the street by a vacant lot heading their way, although he had yet to spot the pair of ladies. Mae turned towards the young lady and explained that the policeman over there was a friend of hers and she wanted a word with him, besides, she winked, you don’t need my company inside there with him, she nodded towards the greenhouse, the girl smiled fetchingly, pressed Mae’s hand in thanks, and headed off, her gown swishing, stiletto heels clicking, along the cobblestone path. For a moment, Mae stared as the young lady, the flowing satin gown whispering along her petite figure as she went to the greenhouse to meet with her lover, and entirely different sort of stare, and then crossed the street to intercept the copper.

 

Mae walked past the copper tossing his way the sorta glance that she knew would pique his natural distrust, making him follow to see what mischief was going on!

 

*********

As Mae happily led the harness bull away from the garden she marveled over her good fortune, wondering over how things had worked to her benefit:

 

How such a lavish affair had been planned on that side of town in an old mansion, turned club.

 

How easily she had been able to slip through the tight security and crash the upscale party.

 

How lucky she had been to spy the young lady deep in misery before anyone else.

 

How easy it had been to convince the guilt ridden fiancé on what steps to take to win back his ladies hand, starting with waiting an hour in the upstairs gentlemen’s smoke lounge.

 

How pretty the young lady had looked when seductively she headed down the path to the greenhouse, the luxuriously sleek gown fluidly flowing, while opulent jewels flickered fire with each step.

 

How noisy those stiletto heels of the young lady were on the path, giving a loud notice of her approach as she went to the green house.

 

How quickly the look of lust upon the girls face would change to horror when she entered the greenhouse and encounter, not her fiancé, but Mae’s two masked partners lying in wait to rob anyone unlucky enough to cross their path.

 

How wicked the smiles would be of Mae’s confederates as one held the slippery, squirming figure of the young lady, while the other groped her body, picking it clean of anything of value.

  

Mae looked back and smiled smugly at the copper hot on her heels. Someone is going to be in trouble for leaving his post she thought. Just a couple more blocks should give them enough time in the greenhouse, and then Mae would easily give this flatfoot the slip. Mae’s mind went deliciously back to what should now be happening to the luckless lady in the long glossy gown, and how much Mae’s cut of the take would amount to. It was too bad she would miss the boys at work; Mae did so enjoy watching a good mugging.

 

********************

 

It had been the boys who had first spotted the ladies in colorfully long shiny gowns. Those gowns fluidly rustling along shapely figures crossing the street leading to ornate front doors of the old Hampton East club Mansion. But it had been their “sparklers” the glittering jewelry the ladies all seemed to be temptingly showing off, that had made their mouths wolfishly drool.

 

But, what they had seen when stealing peeks through slits in a velvet curtained window, had made them run to find Mae. They then breathlessly babbled on about the halfcocked, half-baked scheme they had dreamed up. “Even the young’uns had jools” they had excitedly told Mae. She figured that most of it was probably paste, who wears anything of value on the eastside she thought to herself. But just a glimmer of a possibility began to take seed, as she maternally continued to listen to the excited pair.

 

Mae decided to humor the pair of excitable petty thieves, she owed them some favors anyway, and Mae hated leaving a debt unpaid. Besides, business had been slow lately; it seemed that no one well to do these days need their fortune read. So, for no rhythm or reason other than to see what all the chatter had been about, Mae crashed the upscale event. She slipped inside through the large matching oak doors, without even a second glance from the old man wearing a loose uniform “guarding” the entrance.

 

Mae was amazed, even she could not have predicted the amazing displays of wealth, so tantalizingly close, and yet seemingly so far out of reach. Even the dangling “jools” worn with careless abandon by the “Young’uns” appeared to be the real McCoy! Although she had thought they were talking about girls a little younger than the solely 16 through 20 year olds she observed among the multitude of guests.

 

Mae was also surprised that she had been able to get this far, and so was now just beginning to think of ways to profit from the situation. One idea was also the simplest, find a tipsy lady shimmering in jewels and offer to read her fortune, targeting selected jewel adorned areas to do her readings and hope opportunity knocks. Another thought was to just wait by an exit and hope an inquisitive type wanders out, then follow and force them to the shed. If it was one of the “youn’uns” Mae could than renter and convince her wealthy mother to go and collect her daughter that Mae had seen going into the shed with a , gasp, boy! This last one was not as far-fetched as it sounded, given the antics that a lot of the guests were performing under Mae’s watchful eyes…

 

All in all, Mae was glad she had positioned the boys to wait in the old greenhouse, promising it would be worth their while. Mainly Mae had wanted to keep them out of mischief, too avoid having them upset her apple cart, and it appeared to have been a canny move on her part.

 

Still with no real purpose yet, she had started to shadow a fetchingly gowned young lady of about seventeen who was timidly weaving in and out amongst the groups of happily chatting guests. What Mae mostly desired was a closer scrutiny of the prettily dressed young girls savory pearls and delectable rings, so enticingly slippery upon the sweat glistened figure. Suddenly Mae had an epiphany, realizing exactly what to say to the pretty little miss to satisfy those desires, and more. Eagerly, she caught up to the darting little darling, and literally grabbed the young things attention.

 

The young miss, nervously looked around, as she played with her necklace, holding it with slender ringed fingers, as she innocently listened to the captivating dark haired stranger. Overly pretty teenage girls were so naïve and easy to manipulate, Mae thought, as she began to weave her story around the young thing that had fallen into the gypsies grasp.

 

The plan that had developed Mae’s in mind concerning the girl, was in her opinion, brilliant : for girls like this always travelled about in packs. And it was a good bet that if she ventured out into the night she would not be alone. Mae began to envision two or three similarly attired young ladies walking in the moonlit garden. Shimmering as they approached the garden shed, like so many high heeled, well jeweled Gretel’s heading to the witches’ tempting cottage. And Mae had the perfect fairy tale to tell this pretty girl, one that would spin around her like sticky strands of web that Mae would use to pull her away out into the night.

 

Mae started by charismatically complimented the teenager on her fine dress of silk and lace , she pleasantly straitening it for a “better look”, greedy emotions rising as she looked over the young ladies jewels. As she did this performance, Mae subtly started guiding the unquestioningly obedient girl towards a rear exit. But the girl innocently let out a squeal and pulled Mae over to the “cute little stone bench” one of several that lines a back, potted palm lined , wall . Mae helped the squirming young thing to a seat. As Mae started then to work on the girl, she scanned the area to see if anyone was watching. Seeing no signs of intervention, Mae asked for and obediently received, in turn, each of the girl’s excitedly sweaty palms.

 

Deeper and deeper the seventeen year old fell under Mae’s spell, listening enraptured as Mae began to “read” the girls fortune using her quivering palms. Mae, never letting the girls eyes fall away from her almost hypnotic gaze, began to delicately tug at the pretty rings encircling the slender fingers of the palms as she gently caressed them.

  

As the girl was told her fortune, the pretty young miss was totally caught under the enchantment of Mae’s eyes and sing-song way of speaking. Mae could see that she had captured the girl’s imagination as she wove her fortune telling into a romantic saga that would hopefully peak with the girl sneaking out to the cold shed where the hoodlums were waiting. Then, with delight, Mae saw a special gleam in the girl’s eyes that she knew all too well. A look she had seen before in previous clients, one that told her they were no longer completely aware of what was going on around them. The look that usually had her try to make a little extra profit from the situation!

 

She now did so by ever so slightly tighten her grip on the palm she held. Than with baited breath Mae began to work the girl’s jeweled rings over the knuckles of her warm slender fingers, her practiced eye watching the girls face for any sign that she was catching on to what was happening. Mae thought to herself, this is just coming together perfectly. Mae smiled broadly as she had a habit of doing when one of her wicked schemes was coming to fruitation. The girl smiled impishly in response, totally misinterpreting what that smile stood for. Never in her wildest dreams would she have guessed what this nice lady: with the deep black eyes from which she could not pull away from, who was so pleasantly stroking her palms while telling her fortune so enjoyably, was smiling about! Nor did she have the slightest of inklings that her Grandmother’s pretty rings were starting to vanish!

  

And that’s when It happened!

  

The girl’s deep concentration was broken as she saw a woeful figure heading to a nearby stone bench. Mae felt vibes coursing electrically through her body, her adrenalin mounting! Watching the sobbing newcomer, curled up on the bench, her long shiny gown splayed out over her knees, pooling around her feet. Her hands cupped her face, hiding it beneath waves of long corn silk coloured hair.

 

Mae’s eyes darted back to the young girl who was now innocently looking at Mae, with pretty questioning violet coloured eyes. Mae quickly weighed the consequences. Keep her bird in hand, or let it fly away and take a chance on enveloping the newcomer under her spell. Once again she envisioned a gaggle of Gretel’s in the garden, but then, with a sobering realization, a couple of Hansel’s horned in on the group. That would never do the Gypsy reasoned. Mae made her decision.

 

“Off you go my pretty miss; I see a friend is looking me.” Mae told her dismissingly. The girl looked around, still confused, but she gave Mae a chirping “okay” Mae, a warm smile spreading across her face, lifted up the girls long pearl necklace, fingering it as the girl’s violet eyes traveled to watch it. “C'est la vie, my pretty one “Not today, anyway she finished, sighing to herself, the girl only looked confused. Mae let the necklace go, watching the pearls fall back onto the girls lace covered chest. Without thinking more of it, she scampered off out of sight, her long gown flowing out.

 

Mae’s eyes changed from sparkly to pained, then to dead serious as she scanned the area around the miserable wretch in the corner. Then, a putting a smile across her face, she turned her focus totally on solacing and prizing the unhappy soul.

 

As Mae had sat next to the rich girl, her long fingers soothingly stroked the young lady into submission Mae faked an interest in consoling her and pretending to be concerned about the wretches sob story. She had actually been looking her over, appraising the shimmering jewels that had adorned the weeping young lady. The necklace and earrings dripped with small, but real flashy diamonds. The same size as the ones glistening on the thin tiara that held up the rich girl’s luxuriantly long hair. While she sniffled into Mae’s conveniently produced hankie, the young lady’s gem encrusted rings, wide diamond bracelet, and the fine jeweled brooch that held up the front of the slick satin gown were also closely examined.

 

Mae looked at the girl now walking next to her, innocently unaware of the fact that she had been led out here for one reason only, oblivious to the fact that she now presented nothing more than to the seemingly sweet lady walking next to her than the value of the jewels she wore. Mae smiled to herself, knowing that in the greenhouse her two muggers would miss nothing, the young girls jewels, her mink stole, fat silken purse, even the gown would all fetch a sweet price when sold.

 

While contemplating all this Mae had stayed ahead of the nosey cop and now had reached her destination. She quickly turned down a foggy alley she knew all too well. Just before she disappeared from view she gave the unfortunate girl one last thought.

 

Contemplating on whether her luck would change and she would be found first by her errant fiancé once he finished with his cigars and brandy, , or if her bad luck would hold she would be found by someone like that scoundrel Renauld, who specialized in kidnapping and white slavery among other nefarious activities?

  

Renauld to whom Mae owed a huge favor! Mae figured that some foreign sheik would bid high to add a petite fair skinned blond to his harem back in his country. Mae smiled smugly, licking her lips, It had shaped up to be ,indeed, a very good evening.

 

Coming soon

What fate had in mind

Please list as a favorite and comment if interested in the final act

******************************************************

addendum est

 

As fate would have it, it was neither.

 

The flatfoot who had been following Mae was the first one to find the unconscious young lady. He had snuck into the shed for a nip from his flask. He started a little as he saw the heap on the floor.

 

Quickly making sure he was alone, he bent down and promptly searched the silky slip clad figure for anything left of value. Finding nothing, he slipped off her long satin gloves, pocketing them before he checked her pulse and pulled out his whistle to signal for help. He stopped when he saw something shine in a corner by the door.

 

Picking up the object he thought to himself, “A few more minutes wouldn’t hurt the poor lass” as he pocketed the item and left the greenhouse. The cop headed quickly to a nearby bar which was the hangout of a man that the policeman knew would put the Lass’s hotel key, dropped by whoever had stripped her of her valuables ( and he did not doubt they had been plentiful), to good use.

 

*****************************************************************************

 

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*************************************************************************************

  

The letter "A" mysteriously appears in the clouds. Lots of interesting words begin with this letter. Which one d'ya suppose the clouds had in mind?

 

POEM STORAGE LOCKER

 

HOMELAND INSECURITY

 

Remember the Weapons of Mass

Destruction? The ones they never

Found? There are those who’ll tell

You they still exist somewhere, but

It’s a secret. With all the technology

And good old American know-how

They still can’t tell us what became

Of those WMDs, their excuse for

Spilling all that blood. When they

Shrieked 'the sky is falling, let us

Save you', the whole country bent

Over and said 'as you wish'. Now,

As then,they don’t even need an

Excuse, never mind a court order –

To spy on you because they think

You’re interesting. Better not be

Too interesting. Better be a bland,

Dull, boring little drone, otherwise

If it’s a slow day they’ll aim all that

Technology at you just to find out,

In the name of public safety, who

An interesting person gets to sleep

With, and whether you’re concealing

A WMD between your sheets.

  

SHEEPDOG

 

When I come up with something

That seems halfway intelligent,

I try and put it into some form

I can share with you, because

Most of my day I’m just as

Speechless as everyone else.

I look at things and just go,

What the f—k. I feel like a

Sheepdog trying to keep my

Charges from falling prey to

The freedom that comes so

Naturally to them, and which

Wolves depend on. And who

Do they get mad at? The wolf?

No, me. Need I explain further

Why I’m mostly speechless?

 

BOOKS

 

What a sentimental dinosaur I

Must sound like, seriously sad

That the era of books seems to

Be ending. Global warming will

Mean fewer trees for paper, and

A cheap alternative to printing –

Texts right to your computer -

Already exists, so it’s really a

No-brainer. What paper that

Remains will be needed for

Toilet tissue, until computers

Can wipe our asses too.

 

SANTA

 

Consumerism and spirituality dance a

Mutually suspicious tango together

In December. Alas, my letter to Santa

Would reveal I’m just as materialistic

As anyone else. But if you were Santa,

I’d ask that you slide the benefit of a

Doubt down my chimney. And were

I to find even the smallest present of

Your trust under my tree, that would

Move me far more than any glittering

Bling from the mall. I’d put forgiveness

On my wish list, along with healing,

Acceptance and grace. If we could

Share the gift of understanding, then

I think we’d be getting closer to what

Christmas is all about.

 

JIMCARE

 

I know I should have asked you

First, but you're my doctor - that's

All there is to it. You've got the

Cure if you ever want to use it.

 

SKIN

 

My skin may be thick but it’s full

Of nerve endings. Honestly, my

Thoughts can’t all come from my

Well-ordered, logical brain, which

Actually prefers the comfortable,

Logical, practical, and reasonable.

Nope, my edgy thoughts must

Come from my skin when it rubs

Against poison plants or gets

Surly over weather variations or

Bristles at certain personalities.

My normal conversation wouldn’t

Resemble some of my more out

There observations, unless you

Were to listen to my skin.

 

CONFUSED WITH FOOD

 

Don’t you just wish sometimes

People were like food, existing

Just to please, just for your

Benefit, just for you well-being?

Don’t you love how food says,

Do anything you want with me.

Eat me hot, freeze me for later,

Spice me to your taste, bathe

Me in seasoning till I make

Your mouth water. Yum, yum,

Honey I’m home for dinner.

I believe I’ve illuminated the

Obesity epidemic spreading

Across America insidiously as

Communism in the ‘50s, but

Were I your food, I’d sincerely

Want to be a balanced meal,

Lots of what you like but also

Lots of what’s good for you.

 

WITCHY

 

If magic wands weren’t standard

Issue just for wicked witches, I’d

Wave one and say presto, abra

Cadabra, it’s all sorted out and

Everyone’s happy. All loose ends

Reconnected, all pressing questions

Answered or rendered irrelevant,

All with Heaven’s smiling approval

Because it’s done right. That’s what

I’d do if I had a magic wand. While

We’re at it, a broomstick in lieu of

Plane tickets would be great too.

 

MAGIC

 

You can’t rely on magic, but that

Doesn’t mean it’s not there. It’s

Fickle, it hides, it’s unreliable, it

Would make a lousy employee.

Even Wizards get wounded when

Their spells backfire. Magic won’t

Make you a superhero. Magic is

Best approached with a certain

Humility, maybe a willingness to

Nurture without a constant eye

Towards a desired harvest. Keep

A pleasant garden for magic. It

Holds dear safe places it can rest

Without demands put upon it.

Magic wants to help, but knows

Too much help can be more like

Harm. Still, who knows, when it

Wakes it could always sprinkle

Your day with unexpected grace.

 

KITCHEN

 

This house feels like a home

Because of the ones who

Were here with me over the

Years, many long passed on,

But the kitchen feels like

They’re still here. This is

Where they took care of

Life’s most basic business –

Food, drink, doing dishes,

And I still live by what I

Learned from them. Do we

Really have any choice about

Ideas of right or wrong

Drummed into our heads?

Is it anyone’s fault the ones

Doing the drumming had no

Way of knowing the world

Beyond their kitchen?

 

SEE

 

How do you really see someone?

Can you put on sunglasses to cut

Their glare without perceiving

Them as darker than they really

Are? Does what you see through

Rose colored glasses really have

A rose fragrance to go with it?

Can you put someone under a

Microscope in the name of science,

Analyze their germs in the hope of

Curing their sickness without

Catching it yourself? Different

Ways of seeing give you different

Images, but the word image is

Always close to the word imagine.

The truest way to see someone

Is the way they see themselves,

But how would I know what that

Is when I can only look from afar?

 

LITERALLY

 

When they say don’t love the world,

They really ought to qualify that as,

Don’t love the world of man. As for

Our planet, it needs all the love we

Can spare. The world of man is an

Abstraction, indicating our species

Considers itself separate from its

Own origins. Just because man

Invented language, our definitions

And dogmas don’t make us more

Than a luckier class of monkeys.

Like monkeys that discovered how

Bones made excellent weapons

And proceeded to hit each other

Over the head just because they

Could, our so-called discoveries

Have just as often been our own

Undoing as our salvation. Relative

To our species’ long tenure at this

Address, we only recently

“Discovered” that we live on a

Rock floating through space. Left

To our devices, we ruin our planet

As casually as an infant soils its

Diapers. Don’t love the world?

Hey, the world gave you a tongue

To say those words with. And this

Is what you give back?

 

LAUNDRY

 

Carelessly piled in rude proximity

To each other’s soils and smells,

Pelted with goo or white flake,

(Usually by a white flake), then

Drowned in darkness as the

Heartless machine’s waters turn

Hostile. It’s receding leaves us a

Crumpled, damp distortion of our

Once beautiful selves. And as a

Final indignity, we’re spun about

Violently for what seems like an

Eternity till we collapse in a

Bewildered heap. Is this what you

Have to go through to get clean?

Beware, housewives of America –

What goes around comes around.

Precious, I’m on to you by now –

You throw me in that torturous,

Spinning thing, but I know you’ll

Just make me dirty all over again.

 

ACKNOWLEDGE

 

How do you acknowledge all

That you know, all that you’ve

Felt, and all that you’ve thought

Without making it seem all of

That's more important than

Everything you’ve yet to know,

Yet to feel and yet to think?

Only by choice. Sometimes

Even the wise pretend that

Yesterday never happened,

While only the most foolish

Pretend tomorrow never will.

 

SCALE

 

Hope in change for the better,

Fear of change for the worse –

The scale starts out balanced

Equally, then we start moving

Around, acting, reacting, beliefs

And feelings and feelings start

Shifting from one side of the

Scale to the other. I wish I could

Weigh in just on the good side,

But I’m only part of the balance

And sometimes my choices

Put me on a different side than

I’d intended. I need someone

To jump on the good side with

Me. We could tip the scale, I

Know we could.

 

PISCES

 

There’s a built in flaw with words –

It’s nice to catch thoughts, but

Thoughts are life fish, they don’t

Have life unless they flow. Don’t

Take anything I share with you as

The last word. Thoughts need to

Be fluid, not frozen, not stuffed

Like trophies, not canned, labeled

And sold at competitive prices to

Stimulate the economy, not made

Into sandwiches nor marketed as

Fast food hamburger alternatives.

Think living fish, moving. Truth is,

Like the moods of the sea, one

Thought flows into another, then

Into another, ad infinitum, which

Is why what’s hurting us today

We often end up laughing about

Tomorrow, and vice versa.

 

BAD STUFF

 

Nobody wants to hear about the

Bad stuff, but it’s what makes the

Good stuff good by comparison.

How to stay off those subjects

When they’re part of what forms

The story, part of why things are

The way they are today? The bad

Stuff is like a horrible creature that

Emerges from the sewer at night.

The bad stuff will hurt you, and

You know very well it’s there but

Not how to talk about it. Yet it

Holds the key to unlock the

Reservoir of pain, let it empty

So something more joyful can

Fill it instead. The bad stuff is as

Ugly as sin. Have you got the

Guts to look it in the eye?

 

COOL AS ME

 

People cool as me never admit to

Needing someone. People cool as

Me are expected to act like if they

Want company there’s a menu of

Willing individuals only too happy

To comply, but mostly they just

Want privacy. People cool as me

Act like they’re married to their

Mission in life, regardless of how

Long ago we got a messy divorce

From it that we’ll forever be

Paying off. People cool as me are

Alone on Valentine’s Day, wishing

They had someone they could be

Themselves with, someone to

Hold in confidence, someone to

Enjoy the world with, someone

By their side to while away those

Lonely hours even the coolest

People can’t avoid.

 

VOICE

 

I found a voice, and dammit,

I’m gonna use it. Do I really

Have anything to say? Does

Anyone? Actually, I do have

Something to say, but it’s

Not something you’d say

Outright. It’s there between

The lines. And it’s not just

Having a voice that makes

Speaking worthwhile, it’s

Knowing there’s someone

Listening. You have more

Power than you realize –

You’re really the poem,

I’m just the voice.

 

SUPERHERO

 

Superhero, now we need you. Go

Make Russia mind its own business.

Throw their tanks back across the

Ukraine. Make them stop being

Such vodka brains. Superhero,

Scare off their armies, tell them go

Direct traffic in Communist Square,

Not invade other countries. Cause

Russians are weirdos with nothing

To lose and a chip on their shoulder

From way too much vodka and too

Much cold weather and no rock and

Roll and they’re mean to Pussy Riot

And Communism never worked

Anyway - no wonder they’re mad,

But when mad equals stupid, we

Need Superheroes for villains like

Godzilla and Russia under Putin.

 

WISH I KNEW WHAT TO BELIEVE

 

Wish I knew what to believe.

Is it just up to me? Would you

Leave such a crucial definition

To the village idiot? If nothing

Else, at least you’ll get an

Unusual perspective, but alas,

Not necessarily one that will

Change things much. Is it the

Acceptance of things as they

Are or the persistence in trying

To make things different that

Defines an idiot? Or is it both?

Someone said no, no, that’s all

Wrong, it’s all about where

You’re coming from. Well, I’ll

Have you know, I aspire to

Come from someplace clean,

Honest, honorable, true, but

All I know for sure is, I come

From my mom. Or so I’m told.

Wish I knew what to believe.

 

UNSOLVED MYSTERIES

 

Conspiracy theorists are already

Tweeting it was aliens took that

Plane from the sky. There’s a

New Bermuda Triangle up in the

Skies above Asia. Planes fly in but

Don’t come back out, or maybe

They all will in 500 years, when

The Triangle expunges the lot in

A single eruption, like a giant fart

In the time-space continuum.

Unsolved mysteries suggest too

Many possibilities, that’s why we

Don’t like them. If it wasn’t aliens

It could have been hungry clouds.

Or there’s a giant bird up there

Collecting planes the same way

Some of us collect butterflies. Or

The plane flew into a time warp

To 1000 years in the future, the

Planet of the Apes, where a fuzzy

Faced Sarah McLaughlin is on TV

This very minute singing “In The

Arms Of An Angel” on behalf of

The passengers and flight crew.

 

BEARS IN WINTER

 

Winter sends her message in

Such a cold way. We need to

Learn secrets of survival when

All turns to ice for awhile. Only

For awhile – in time even this

Freeze will melt so the water

Can flow again. For now, time

Out, red light, cease fire, halt

Till further notice, hunker down,

Carry on as usual – if you want

To freeze to death. Unlike the

Bears who have the right idea

And sleep through it, I’m awake,

Feeling every cold moment.

 

DEMANDING BASTARD

 

I guess I could get better pictures

If I used a fancier camera, but as

I’ll explain to anyone who’ll listen,

In my experience life goes by too

Fast to focus a fancy camera on it.

Fancy cameras are for when you

Have the luxury of subjects who’ll

Hold still for you. I need my quick

And dirty little point-and-shoot for

The kind of subjects I catch. I want

People living, not posing. What a

Demanding bastard I can be. Am I

Enough of a cunt yet that you’d

Consider me some kind of artist?

 

SHE HAD A TERRIBLE VISION

 

She had a terrible vision in the

Post office parking lot. She saw

Samoa fifty years from now,

When most Samoans will look

Like me, in denim instead of a

Lava lava, and worse still, part

White. All I did was get out of

My car and I gave this old lady

A terrible vision in the post

Office parking lot. I know I did.

It was written all over her face,

I felt her terror and sorrow,

And now I’m just as scared.

 

FREUDIAN SLIPPERS

 

Psychological mechanism, whether

You’re aware of it or not, it’s what

You do on impulse, without thinking,

Almost as if it did itself. Like when

You shut me out, not just once, but

Time and time again. Makes me

Wonder what you’re thinking, why

You believe that’s what I deserve.

When you spoke to me, is that the

Impression I gave? In my company,

Is that how I made you feel, like

Someone you need to shut out, not

Someone you need to open up to?

What you need to know is, I don’t

Have a clue. I take my cues from you,

But sometimes I wonder whether

You even know why you so naturally,

Spontaneously, automatically shut

Me out like you’re a vampire and

I’m sunlight.

 

ALL YOUR FAULT

 

Investigate, detective, analyze

The crime scene. Compile a

Profile of the perpetrator, try

Guessing their motive. Using

Wit and intuition, crack their

Puzzle, expose them in the

News, soothe public concerns

The criminals are taking over.

No, criminals are predictable

And secretly long to be caught.

They just crave the stimulation

Of knowing they’ve engaged a

Mind as brilliant as yours to

Figure them out. In fact, were

It not for you, detective, the

Criminals wouldn’t find crime

Even worth it.

 

PRODUCTS PROMISE

 

Does roll-on or spray keep you cool,

Calm and collected better when

Someone you care about gets you

Really upset? Can this glue can hold a

Relationship together? Which plastic

Container will best protect my heart

From being jostled and bruised?

Which of these scissors is quickest

For cutting through the bullshit? If

She drinks this cola, will she really

Open her happiness for me? Every

Single item in this store says made

In China. So what would Chinese

Buy if they were trying to connect

With someone special? Whatever

Looks most American? That would

Not quite explain overpopulation,

In China, unless their condoms are

About as reliable as their radios.

 

ROCK & ROLL

 

Old folks can’t rock & roll so well

Anymore on the dance floor, but

In their hearts the music never

Stops. When I say you rock me,

I mean you move me. I don’t

Know why, you just do, for or

Against my will, either way, and

I’d rather celebrate it than hate it.

We needn't drag each other through

Hell. Rock & roll has a dark side,

As does most things first intended

For a more Heavenly purpose. It’s

Just the way we feel each other’s

Rhythms, and when you and I find

Our groove, it’s like the angels

Are rocking out.

 

CIRCLE

 

In the days when Samoa was further

From the center of western society

Than most could even contemplate,

White men who saw it would jump

Ship and hide in her mountains. They

Thought they’d found Paradise, and

By comparison America or Europe

Was a hell they had no wish to ever

See again. Nowadays we don’t worry

Much about sailors jumping off ship,

More about locals trying to jump on.

Western society has always had some

Trying to escape from it, so now we’ve

Come full circle and some from here

Are trying to escape island society.

I guess your perception of Paradise

Depends a great deal on what you

Can compare it to. I wonder whether

Those longing to escape island society

For its first world counterpart could

Ever see Samoa the way it looked to

Those first eyes that knew enough to

Make that comparison so long ago.

 

FROM BABIES

 

Babies know joy instinctively, even

In the midst of the worst troubles

Going on around them. When adults

Aren’t causing pain under a misguided

Notion it will keep pain from being

Inflicted on them, they’re desperately

Trying to dull whatever pain still

Penetrates their armor, even though

Not feeling is just the same misery

In different makeup. With all the open

Pain warfare around us, it’s not as if

We’re unaware that others hurt too,

It’s more like we don’t care. Pain is

The currency of exchange between

Our bodies, minds and spirits. Spirit

Pain is the deepest hurt a person can

Feel, and many don’t realize how deep

Into darkness their spirit has sunk until

Something or someone unlocks the

Chains and their spirit can fly again.

Some say we take our sensitivity too

Seriously, but when we stop giving in

To the agitation of disquieting ideas,

These same sensitivities can make us

Sensitive to joy. This might take some

Re-learning, some remembering but

Luckily you can learn a lot from babies.

 

RECIPE

 

I speak to you in my mind and maybe

Occasionally say the right thing. We

Are more than just our ideas, way

More, but ideas shine a light on

What’s going on inside our walking

Balloons of flesh, blood and bones.

I put things together for you, like

A recipe, hoping my creation is to

Your taste. There’s a taste in my

Dreams, engages all the senses,

And I wake knowing there’s only

One real point in coming back from

Slumber at all. Whatever powers

I have of thought, speech or action,

I wish only that they be right for

Bringing you the recipe that comes

To me from somewhere inside.

 

NO WAY TO TREAT A GUEST

 

Goes by like a shadow outside the door.

Shiver. Ghosts don’t show up during the

Day – must mean this one couldn’t wait.

Is something urgently needed before it’s

Too late? Ok, I’m waiting, but I haven’t

Got all day. What is it you want me to

Realize? Is there something you hope

That I’ll recognize? I’m wide open to

Suggestions, but can you do more than

Just skirt the shadows of my awareness?

Uh oh, I think I’ve just insulted the ghost –

Spoke before thinking - you’re supposed

To be mysterious and it’s very special,

Very sacred, even very blessed in a way

That an entity from the other side would

Feels strongly enough about something

Here on this one to intervene. So here I

Sit, calm, clear, open. Seconds tick,

Nothing happens. Apprehension grows

I’ve insulted the ghost. I like to believe

I don’t intuit spirits when there really

Are none, but now there really isn’t.

No mysterious tingle, no strange noises,

No unusual signs. Not even a hint of what

It meant or what it wanted. It could be a

Misunderstanding, true, but there’s no

Mistaking the emptiness of feeling sure

Something came to me but wouldn’t stay.

 

MOON IN ARIES

 

My sun sign is Cancer, but my moon

Sign is Aries, which coincidentally the

Sun just went into. Man, my planets

Get kind of mixed up sometimes. I

Googled “moon in Aries” and was

Kind of horrified to find that what

It described wasn’t the person that

I am, but rather the person I try not

To be – impatient, inconsiderate,

Innocently self-centered, as in, why

Of course I’m the center of the

Universe. I’m Jim and your’re not!

No, no, I’ve consciously cultivated

Being kind when I can and even when

My first impulse is to kill dead. I take

Things very personally. Treat me like

Someone you want nothing to do with

And I will have a very, very hard time

Ever opening up to you. Treat me like

Your friendship is genuine, comes as

Naturally as breathing, and I’ll never

See you any other way. If I scare you,

Congratulations, your wits serve you

Well, but even celestial egomaniacs

Are capable of evolving. Honest.

 

MOTHER HEN

 

It’s really funny you feel threatened.

Hey Einstein, if I was capable of doing

Something crazy I already would have.

But my craziness takes the form of

Expression, and if anything I’m more

Of a threat to myself than anyone

Else, just like Van Gough caught a

Form of craziness that caused him to

Cut off his own ear and offer it to a

Prostitute, not as payment but as

Some kind of token. True story. Pure

Madness, but look at the paintings

That came out of him. As for me, I

Can say with about 95% confidence

My ear is safe. At heart I’m more of

A mother hen, taking care of other

People hella more than anyone takes

Care of me, but that’s my token, I

Just try and look after things. You’re

Not threatened, you just bring out

The part of me that wants to express.

 

PEACH

 

Aries is the time when impatience

Comes naturally – when it feels like

Whatever is supposed to happen

Should have happened already.

There may be a time and place for

Such a sentiment – it keeps things

From getting stagnant, shakes up

Our routines, reminds us that life

Needs to move, needs to feel new.

Once man feels the power of his

Actions to effect things, he thinks

Action is the answer to everything,

And inaction is worthy of contempt.

But what happens when you want a

Ripe peach right now, and the tree

Says sorry, it’s not ready yet? In a

Fit of impatience and contempt,

Should you take an axe and show

The tree who’s boss?

 

COLD ON A SUNNY DAY

 

Anxiety causes tension that affects

The body, weakens the immune

System. Anxiety can be like birds

Making noise, birds that feed on

Feelings, constantly announcing

Their presence, attracting even

More birds, making more noise.

Birds only know one song, but they

Give the performance their all. I’ve

Heard the same song interpreted

Many times, and you have to give

Them credit for staying faithful to

The original. It never changes, it’s

Constant as the color of the sky.

No one complains about the color

Of the sky, they just learn to see

It as beautiful. My immune system

Isn’t applauding the constancy,

But birds aren’t about to change

Their tune just because of me.

 

WHY IS THE DEVIL?

 

Why is the devil so attracted to this

Family? He must like our banter, the

Pomposity of our place in society

Echoed in our accents of faraway lands.

Why does Lucifer join us at our table

Every time the whole family’s in the

Same room? He must delight in seeing

Supposedly civilized community icons

Turn into savages after a few drinks,

Cutting and bashing each other with

Words instead of clubs, the nervy ones

Jockeying to establish dominance like

Apes forming a mating hierarchy. Why

Is God’s fallen angel always co-counsel

To our lawyers whenever our family

Mess inevitably winds up in court? The

Devil specializes in turning imported

Laws against the importers, reminding

Us that the higher the privilege, the

More prolonged the payment.

 

QUIET MONARCHY

 

America’s mainstream spirit lives

Under house arrest in the gated

Community where the quiet

Monarchy bide their time. Now

That they’ve captured the voice

Of the silent majority, have you

Noticed it’s endless variations on

The same commercial? The ads

Promoting our country as global

Cash register, moral arbitrator,

Cultural enforcer? America’s

Mainstream spirit sleeps in its

Comfortable prison, its dreams

Often tormented by the older

Ghost of American humanity and

Idealism. America’s mainstream

Spirit doesn’t mean to demonize

The excluded, but in celebrating

The included, well, that contrast

Just has to stand out somehow.

Like a golden vision of perpetual

Prosperity, at least for some, the

Rockets’ red glare shines forever

In the lights of Las Vegas, where

For every spent Elvis waiting to

Die one morning on the toilet, for

Every spent engine of industry like

Detroit waiting for the scrap heap,

There is one more diamond in the

Crown of America’s quiet monarchy.

 

QUIET ANARCHY

 

We all make our own choices, and

Mine have grown mellower with age

But once in awhile there’s still this

Quiet anarchy I feel, where I want

To just burn down everything and

Everyone who’s ever caused me to

Hurt, caused me to believe you’ve

Been dealing me cards all along

From a dirty deck, cause me to

Realize I’ll never succeed in any

Way unless I play a bullshit game

That feeds someone else’s control

And profit. See the old anarchist

Walking his dog with plastic gloves

And a paper bag. I have to clean up

My mess or else face a fine, while

You go scott free every time you

Take your glorious dump on me

And everyone else.

 

PUNISHMENT

 

Such a painful situation

You wish you could punish

Somebody for it. Wish you

Could cast the first stone,

Wish you could bear damning

Witness, wish you could join

The witch hunt, but you won’t.

Punishment might provide a

Pleasurable revenge, but don’t

Forget, in love it’s better to

Give than to receive. Can you

Say the same of punishment?

 

CONSISTENCY

 

I’m always wrong, but at least

The reason keeps changing.

One day I’m wrong cause of

This, next day I’m wrong cause

Of that, in a week I’ll be wrong

Cause of something else. I’m

The barometer or baseline by

Which you gauge what’s wrong.

If I’m always going to be wrong,

What can I do? Be wrong in

Creative ways, be wrong in

Original ways, be wrong in

Inspired ways, be wrong in

Ways that are at least true

To myself, be wrong in ways

An impartial observer might

Conclude are only wrong

Depending on one’s point of

View, which I’m sure you’ll

Immediately shift accordingly.

 

OIL AND VINEGAR

 

It isn’t someone whose faith

Blinds them that we need, it’s

Someone whose faith opens

Their eyes. And perfection

Isn’t what we should seek in

Another, but rather someone

Whose imperfections mix with

Our own like oil and vinegar

Rather than gasoline and fire.

Oil and vinegar are not terribly

Romantic, I know, but see how

Together they elevate the

Salad from bland to sublime.

 

GOING COWBOY

 

I don’t feel so at home on the

Range, where the deer and the

Antelope make territorial noises,

While my own thoughts about

Unclear boundaries compromise

The night’s quiet. Like a Hamlet

On horseback, the uncertainty of

A stalemate situation eats away

At my peace of mind. Any kind

Of move would be going cowboy,

Riding in with pistols blazing.

Might save the day, might just

Leave a big mess. Feels like a

Rescue is called for, though no

One is yelling help. It’s fine to

Go cowboy, follow no rules but

Your own, if you want to break

Free, but if you want to return,

You ride alone, trying to recall

The trail home on a dark night.

 

SPEECH DEFECT

 

Just a way to get a word in, talking

Without voices, without eye contact,

Just words symbolizing meaning,

Representing feelings, self-centered

By necessity because propaganda is

Always a distorted exchange, forever

Open to interpretation. Hardly the

Optimum way to communicate, but

The alternative is total silence, history

Interpreted in opposite ways, with no

Basis for agreement or understanding,

No common meaning because you

Can’t treat meaningfully someone

You don’t acknowledge even exists

Anymore. How strange to feel like a

Ghost in someone else’s world when

You’re not even dead yet.

 

COUNTRIES

 

American Samoa was born in 1900.

The Union of Soviet Socialist Republics

Was born in 1922. American Samoa,

Which is not quite America and not

Quite Samoa, is still trying to figure

Out what it is. The USSR, which was

A Union only by force, rape by any

Other name, Soviet and Socialist only

For as long as it was convenient, until

Its Republics grew strong enough to

Assert they wanted to be countries

Themselves, is also still trying to figure

Out what it is. I was born in the late

1950s, and I’m still trying to figure out

Who I am. You were born in the late

1980s, so if you haven’t figured out

Anything yet, that’s understandable

Given historical precedent.

 

COSTUMES

 

Costumes and uniforms, I’ll dress

The way I need to. One day one,

Another the next, any kind of

Outfit to please you. What we

Wear will make some kind of

Statement. It’s better, I guess,

Than walking ‘round naked. Put

On, put on, take off too. Same

Old me but the costume is new.

 

MR. FIXIT

 

Poor Mr. Fixit has forgotten about

All the things he can fix perfectly

To obsess on one thing he can’t

Quite figure out how to repair. Yes,

He says, I’m well aware there are

Things only God can fix, but if He’s

Not working through me then it

Must be due to some fault on my

Part. To find the solution within, I’ll

Purify myself. Friends say, Mr. Fixit,

If you were any more pure you’d be

Invisible. Friends say it’s turned

Into a battle of wills, of pride, of

Honor, of ego between Mr. Fixit

And the one thing he can’t fix. He

Knows they’ll never understand

How desperately motivation needs

A victory or else accomplishment

May as well be an accident. Besides,

He wonders, how can they say I’m

Overdoing it if I can’t get it done?

 

SWEETIE

 

Sweetie, I think your poetry

Is beautiful, just like you are.

You move me, always have.

Sweetie, I think you’re scared

Of me, and I can’t say I blame

You, but come on - compared

To Jesus, we all kind of suck.

 

THE DREADFUL PINK EYE

 

If you don’t want to catch the dreadful Pink Eye

Don’t look at someone like you wish they would die

Because if they suss that that’s what you think

They’ll punch both your eyes until they turn pink

Don’t antagonize with the things that you say

Or you’ll wear sunglasses all night and all day

Don’t provoke somebody to charge like a rhino

Or friends will all ask if you’re turning albino

 

MIDDLE AGED PRAYER

 

Age brings the same old problems,

Just with a more thoughtful response.

Still the same old choices soon as you

Wake. Always wishing things could be

Better for everyone, things could be

Fairer, things could be kinder, but the

World’s the way it is like a cookie

Crumbles the way it does, sort of by

Design but mostly at random. Lord,

Deliver us from randomness, except

When it brings something wonderful.

 

QUESTIONABLE CONDUCT

 

Opinions on what exactly constitutes

Questionable conduct will usually

Vary depending on who you ask and

Whatever/however their relation is

To the one whose conduct is called

Into question. If we all understood

Each other perfectly, no conduct

Would be questionable because

Whatever question there is would

Already be answered. Therefore,

To question another’s conduct is

Really to say you don’t understand.

As to the question of whether or

Not understanding is any business

Of yours… That actually explains a

Lot of suffering and violence. It

Could just as easily be, how dare

You not care, as how dare you

Interfere. It can be harder to act

Than to understand, but I still say

You’re worse off when it’s harder

To understand than to act.

The Heart Of The Ocean

Episode 17

"Shadows"

Pic 20

 

So, I was tagged to do two different "all about me" memes. I'm just gonna combine them to save room.

Thank you to sammistarlight, ipleadsdafif and jnhotboy for tagging me!

 

TAGGED!

Name: Cori

Residence: CA

Occupation: Bookkeeper / Tax Preparer

Likes: Dolls (duh), 80's music, Brit-Coms, frogs, peanut butter, guacamole, the color orange

Dislikes: Bad drivers, assholes, mushrooms, blimps

Hobbies: My art

Things I'm not good at: Singing and dancing...but it doesn't stop me from trying

Places I have visited: I've been all over Europe and into Russia

All time faves: Judging by other answers I guess this is supposed to be TV and movies? Unsolved Mysteries and Back to the Future

Treatment for my stress: naps

Thrills: Concerts & the morning commute

Depressed: way too many naps

Top 5 Dolls I Want NOW:

1. Venus McFlytrap

2. Robecca Steam

3. La Dee Da "Runway Vacay" Sloane

4. Disney 11" Merida

5. Pullip Regen Noir (I don't particularly like the regens, but I want another Noir so this works)

 

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20 THINGS ABOUT ME

1. Here's the million-dollar question: Why on earth do I have photos of Tania Coleridge, Cher, Paula Prentiss and Ally Sheedy up above? These are the celebrities (so I'm told) that I most resemble. I don't necessarily agree.

2. I'm a Taurus born in the Year of The Dragon

3. In 2nd grade I broke a girl's arm for stealing one of my My Little Ponies (it was Medley if I recall)

4. In my spare time I search missing/unidentified person sites hoping to identify John/Jane Does.

5. My pinky toe-nails are "dead" and haven't grown in over 20 years

6. I love my Mini Cooper but if I could have any car in the world it would be a Morris Minor

7. I'm 5'11" and love to wear heels

8. My 1st two boyfriends ended up announcing they were really gay (haha fooled me!)

9. I hung out with the stoners in High School...and I was in all AP classes (except History, boo)...and my best friend was class valedictorian.

10. I didn't really play with dolls when I was little. I had some Barbies but much preferred playing with my stuffed animals and MLPs.

11. Speaking of stuffed animals, of the 100s I have owned in my lifetime only 5 are girls...I much prefer the company of boys I guess.

12. I'm FINALLY going to see Duran Duran in concert, almost 30 years since I scrounged together enough of my allowance to buy the "Seven and the Ragged Tiger" LP

13. Here's a big long list of the artists I've seen in concert: Aerosmith, Alice In Chains, Blink-182, Blur, Coldplay (X 2), Elvis Costello, The Cure, Dance Hall Crashers, Depeche Mode, Devo, Echo & The Bunnymen, Erasure, Guns N Roses, GWAR, Madness (X 2), Metallica, Mighty Mighty Bosstones, The Police (X 2), Poison, The Ramones, Rancid, Social Distortion, Soundgarden, The Spice Girls, Squirrel Nut Zippers, Gwen Stefani, Steve Miller Band, Sting, Stone Temple Pilots, Third Eye Blind, and Warrant

14. Here's some artists I'd like to see in concert: B-52s, Blondie, David Bowie, Garbage, New Order, No Doubt, Oingo Boingo, The Smiths, Squeeze, Talking Heads, U2

15. Here's some bands I would have LOVED to see in concert, but can't because someone done gone and died: The Beatles, The Clash, The Doors, INXS, Men At Work, Nirvana, Queen

16. Ummm, I'm finding it hard to come up with 20 things about myself. I'm kinda boring, lol!

17. I have a bad habit of overusing/misusing parentheses and ellipsis in my writing...(see what I mean)

18. I have been with my boyfriend for almost 12 years now...yikes!

19. I generally flip-off people the Italian way (i.e. flicking my fingers underneath my chin)

20. My favorite doll is my Pullip Principessa named Claudia. Just don't tell the other dolls, ok?

This is the last of a series of newspaper reports that I took photos of recently.

 

Here was a spy murder mystery in real life, dating back to 1977 (or 1974 for some of those directly affected) that included spies, espionage, a sex scandal, mistaken identity, BOTH the CIA AND KGB, and Middle East conflicts in which the Palestine Liberation Organization (PLO), Israel, Egypt, the U.S.A. and Soviet Union were involved.

 

Obviously most of you didn't, and wouldn't be able to read the whole report. Here is a brief summary:

 

One evening in September 1974, Canadian Broadcasting Corp (CBC) journalist David HALTON arrived in Cairo. On his way to the baggage claim area, two Middle Eastern men greeted Mr. Halton and said they would take him to his hotel. Odd, as Mr. Halton's itinerary was not known to the authorities, and he didn't plan anyone to pick him up at the airport. The two local men ushered Mr. Halton into a private car and drove off.

 

During the ride, small talks between the two men and Mr. Halton led to the realization that the two men were looking for Mr. David HOLDEN, chief foreign correspondent of London's Sunday Times, not CBC's David Halton. The two Egyptian men looked shocked in disbelief, no more conversation was exchanged. They dropped Mr. HALTON at his hotel and sped off. That was in 1974.

 

Then on the 6th December, 1977, The Sunday Times' David HOLDEN arrived in Cairo on assignment. Like David HALTON's experience three years earlier, Hr. Holden was intercepted by someone and ushered into a mysterious car. Several hours later, a body was discovered. Missing any ID, it was only on the 10th December, 1977, that the body was identified to belong to Mr. HOLDEN. He had been shot from behind.

 

After years of investigation by The Sunday Times' journalists, it was discovered that Mr. HOLDEN was likely a double-agent, as he had some sort of relationship with the CIA. Meanwhile, it was discovered that Mr. Holden was gay and had a lover named Leo Silberman, who turned out to be a KGB agent.

 

Not only that, and even more intriguing to the whole spy story, The Sunday Times' foreign editor between 1945 and 1959 was Ian Fleming. Yes, that "creator of James Bond" Ian Fleming, who was a real-life spy during World War II as Britain's intelligence chief, who recruited his wartime colleagues to work as newspaper associates while doubling as spies.

 

The murder of David Holden remains unsolved almost 50 years on. There has been a number of conspiracy or credible theories though.

...cause there's not enough showing on this partial Ghost Sign to identify the advertised business.

 

But I'll keep looking into this cause my OCD won't leave it unsolved.

Cladonia uncialis

Cetraria aculeata (Coelocaulon aculeatum)

"C. muricata is similar to C. aculeata but is more compact and has smaller and less abundant pseudocyphellae. Some of our material is intermediate between these two spp, but most is more similar to C. muricata than C. aculeata. Lower elevation collections are often c. aculeata while high-elevation collections are more likely to be C. muricata. Recent work on the population genetics of these species revealed unsolved problems in w N Am." - McCune, Bruce, and Geiser, Linda (2023) Macrolichens of the Pacific Northwest, Third Edition, Revised and Expanded

 

Fidalgo Island, WA

 

my photos arranged by subject, e.g. mountains - www.flickr.com/photos/29750062@N06/collections

 

my lichen photos by genus - www.flickr.com/photos/29750062@N06/collections/7215762439...

Vintage postcard.

 

American actor Robert Stack (1919-2003) became a star as Deanne Durbin's young lover in Henry Koster's First love (1939). After the war, he had massive success with Douglas Sirk's drama Written on the Wind (1956) for which he was nominated for the Oscar. Internationally, he became famous as Elliot Ness in the TV series The Untouchables (1959-1963).

 

Robert Stack was born Charles Langford Modini Stack in Los Angeles, in 1919. His first name, selected by his mother, was changed to Robert by his father, a professional soldier Robert was the grandson of Marina Perrini, an opera singer at the Scala theatre in Milan. When little Robert was five, his father was transferred to the US embassy in France. Robert went to school in Paris and learnt French rather than his mother tongue. At 11, he returned to America, and at 13, he became a top athlete. His brother and he won the International Outboard Motor Championships, in Venice, Italy, and at age 16, he became a member of the All-American Skeet Team. He played polo, saxophone and clarinet at Southern California University. A broken wrist ended his career as a sports athlete. He took drama classes and made his stage debut at 20. He joined Universal Studios in 1939. In his first film, he starred as Deanne Durbin's young lover in First love (Henry Koster, 1939). He gave the teenage film star her first on-screen kiss. Around this "event," Universal producer Joe Pasternak provided a lot of publicity. Stack established himself as an actor and the following year he appeared as a young Nazi in The Mortal Storm (Frank Borzage, 1940) alongside Margaret Sullavan and James Stewart. Stack was reunited with Durbin in Pasternak's musical Nice Girl? (William A. Seiter, 1941). In 1942 he appeared as a Polish Air Force pilot in Ernst Lubitsch's comedy To Be or Not to Be (1942) starring Carole Lombard and Jack Benny. The plot concerns a troupe of actors in Nazi-occupied Warsaw who use their acting abilities to fool the occupying troops. The film has become recognised as a comedy classic. Stack played another pilot in Eagle Squadron (Arthur Lubin, 1942), a huge hit. Then Stack's career was interrupted by military service. He did duty as a gunnery instructor in the United States Navy during World War II.

 

After World War II, Robert Stack continued his career. He returned to the screen with roles in films such as Fighter Squadron (Raoul Walsh, 1948) with Edmond O'Brien and A Date with Judy (Richard Thorpe, 1948) with Elizabeth Taylor. In 1952 Stack starred in Bwana Devil (Arch Oboler, 1952), the first major film production in 3D. He played the second leading role alongside John Wayne in William A. Wellman's aviation drama It's Always Day (1954). Sam Fuller cast him in the lead of House of Bamboo (1955), shot in Japan. Stack enjoyed one of his greatest successes with Douglas Sirk's drama Written in the Wind (1956). He received an Oscar nomination for Best Supporting Actor for his portrayal of the alcoholic playboy Kyle Hadley. From the late 1950s Stack turned increasingly to television. Internationally, Robert became famous with his role in the television series The Untouchables in which he starred as the clean-cut Chicago police officer Eliot Ness during the Prohibition era. Around 120 episodes were made between 1959 and 1963. Other leading roles followed for Stack in the television series The Name of the Game (1968-1971), Most Wanted (1976) and Strike Force (1981). The multilingual Stack also took the lead role in the German-language film Die Hölle von Macao/The Hell of Macau (James Hill, 1966) alongside Elke Sommer, and he also appeared in French- or Italian-language productions. With advancing age, Stack also frequently took on deadpan comedy roles that lampooned his dramatic on-screen persona in films such as 1941 (Steven Spielberg, 1979), Airplane! (Jim Abrahams, David Zucker, Jerry Zucker, 1980) or Caddyshack II (Allan Arkush, 1988). Between 1987 and 2002 he was the host of the television series Unsolved Mysteries, which was dedicated to mysterious murder cases. He worked as an actor until his death. In 1956 he married actress Rosemarie Bowe (1932-2019), to whom he was married until the end of his life. The couple had two children. Robert Stack died of pneumonia in 2003 in Beverly Hills at the age of 84 and was buried in Westwood Village Memorial Park Cemetery.

 

Sources: Wikipedia (Dutch, German and English) and IMDb.

 

And, please check out our blog European Film Star Postcards.

Tim sulked in the darkness of Stephanie Brown’s old apartment, standing amongst various boxes strewn about haphazardly. With the death of her parents and her sudden disappearance, her grandparents sold the property nearly a month back. However, no one had purchased it yet, and as a result much of the Brown’s property was sitting in various containers and boxes around the abandoned living space. Since seeing Stephanie after lunch with his father, Tim’s life had become completely consumed with finding her. There was something that did not strike him particularly well about seeing her in the hotel, stemming from the fact that she disappeared once he had gotten close. Unconsciously ruling out that she could be a hallucination brought on by his long nights with little sleep, Tim was certain she was watching him. For some reason, she was unable to speak to him directly, but she kept a close eye on him. This theory at least comforted Tim enough to take at least an hour a day to sleep, however he would not be able to rest properly once more until he figured out exactly where Stephanie had gone and why she showed up mysteriously days previous. Turning over a broken crate, Tim found bundles of letters stacked from bottom to top. He began reading the names on them to himself both quickly and quietly,

  

“Riley…Thomas…Anthony…William…Rose…” As he reached the bottom of the stack, he sighed, thinking that he might have to go through every letter for information before he saw a single envelope sticking out from underneath the overturned crate next to it. Picking the letter up, he realized that it was the only one that had been opened and emptied. Reading the name aloud to himself, he whispered, “…Harper Row…” The name sounded familiar, but it took a moment for Tim to process that Row had been the last name of Film Freak’s accomplice. Immediately thinking the worst, Tim assumed that Stephanie had fallen into a life of crime following her parents death, causing him to crumple the letter just as Alfred’s voice sounded through his earpiece,

  

“Good evening Master Tim, I have Batman on the other line, he’s requested I patch you through to him.”

  

“Put me through,” Tim said as he attempted to summon a happier tone while saying, “Robin reporting in.” The gruff voice of the Caped Crusader immediately replied,

  

“Tim, I’ve engaged the mercenaries.”

  

“Oh? How’s that treatin’ ya?” Tim asked sarcastically as his heart began to race. This could be it, for the first time in a long time he and Bruce were finally about to take to the skies together again.

  

“Confusing. These men are meant to be some of the fiercest warriors known to man, but they had one look at me and scampered.” Snickering to himself in the empty apartment, Tim answered,

  

“Ermmm, I’m not sure confusing is properly answering my question. As regards to why they’re running…maybe you’re finally at the stage where even people that haven’t met you are terrified of you. Don’t tell me it’s not what you’ve always wanted.” Unwavering as usual, Batman answered,

  

“Focus. They’ve split up and I’m in pursuit of the leader now.”

  

“Good to know.” Tim held his right hand in an excited fist and grit his teeth as Bruce finally said,

  

“I’m going to need your help to interrogate him.” Containing his excitement, Tim nodded to no one while thinking back to his training. One specific exercise came to mind to fit the situation best, so he asked if they would use,

  

“The headless nun scenario?”

  

“More or less.” Checking to make sure his staff was on his person as well as a sufficient number of batarangs, Tim affirmed that,

  

“I’m on my way.”

  

“Good. Lock onto my signal and rendezvous with me as soon as you can.” Heading for the second floor window closest to him, Tim climbed out while activating the GPS system on his wrist device.

  

“Roger, I’m tracking you now. Shouldn’t be long.”

  

“Thanks Tim.” There was silence as Tim leapt to the next building, running across the rooftop while retrieving his grappling gun. Then, he heard Bruce say something he was not expecting,

  

“I’m sorry I’ve had to interfere in your case.” Tim was in the midst of leaping from one building to the next, and nearly lost his concentration enough to fall down to the street below if not for shooting his grappling gun into a gargoyle above seconds before.

  

“Ah…it’s fine. This lead is pretty much a dead end just like all the rest.” Tim lied, as he intended to track down Harper Row himself to figure out her connection to Stephanie.

  

“Sorry to hear that. I know she means a lot to you.” Having just begun to associate his biological father as a father figure once more, Tim was surprised to see just how much the stoic man he had looked up to for so long understood him.

  

“How do you know I mean Steph? I didn’t tell Alfred which case I was investigating a new lead for.”

  

“I know you Tim, and I know this is the one case you refuse to let go unsolved.” In reality, Tim could remember all of the unsolved cases in even the years before he had been Robin, however Bruce was right in his assumption that this was a case he would never let go.

  

“Yeah. I hoped that I’d find something at her old house…but nothing.” The name Harper Row bounced across every inch of his brain as he attempted to think if he knew anything else about her while saying this, as if he became entirely lost he assured himself he would bring Bruce on board. However, now was not the time, with the Crimson Knight attempting to lay waste to Gotham, Bruce had bigger priorities.

  

“You’ll figure it out Tim, of that I’m certain.” Tim smirked a somewhat reassured smirk as he checked his wrist device in between grappling gun usage,

  

“Thanks Bruce. Alright I’m about three minutes out from your current position. Shouldn’t be too long.”

  

“Roger Robin, see you shortly.” Thinking of a way to quickly lighten the mood, Tim asked,

  

“Can I just ask one question though?”

  

“Of course.” Tim did his best imitation of the gravelly voice Bruce sometimes adapted as he said,

  

“Can I be the bad cop for a change?” Waiting for a laugh on the other end, he was met with a short period of silence before Bruce answered,

  

“You already know the answer to that.” Tim faked a whine as a response,

  

“Come on! How am I ever going to develop my bad cop skills if you keep hogging the role?”

  

“Just get here.” Bruce demanded this, pushing Tim to say,

  

“Yes sir!” Their communications channel cut out just as he finished speaking, and also as he landed on top of a building less than two minutes from Bruce’s location. Elation replacing the concern he had felt earlier, Tim hummed to himself as he pressed on for the last stretch towards the Iceberg Lounge,

  

“Nanananananananananananana Batman…Robin…Nananananananananananananananana kickin’ butt…kicin’ butt…”

Too bad, after about 50 m the tunnel ceases, a deadlock. I can only speculate about the meaning of this aborted project. It was probably around 1950, when they tried to connect from here to a military plant. My conclusion is: It would be possible, that an ascending gallery was planned from here with a length of 450 m to the then power plant of the army in the Schöllenen gorge. Because there was already a cable car from the power plant to the facility. At that time an installation was built which also has a connection to the rail tunnel but in a different way. Because in this area obsolete and newer military installations are connected to each other, it is difficult to tell about without breach of secrecy. The door of the really realized access to the tunnel at the beginning of the fifties, I have published previously without description (Seek and you shall find). It is closer to the tunnel portal in Göschenen and still classified. Switzerland, Oct 26, 2015. (29/38)

 

This gallery is still an unsolved mystery of the old Gotthard tunnel!

October 13, 2013

Chatwick University Creative Writing Experience.

Black and White category

Story line photo: The swing set

Honorable Mention

 

Titled: Regret

(abridged)

***********************************************************

Based on an actual Occurrence.

 

I stopped by the old playground while visiting my old haunts in the town I once lived.

Like me, it had grown older, wearier, and rougher around the edge.

I stood there on that blustery fall day in silent memory.

I had played here, fought here; shed a tear here……

But never found love here.

The swing set was still there, thought, like me, not quite the same.

So was the little hut, Abandoned now, grass and vines have claiming it as their own.

And I went to it, looking inside as I remembered how she had looked, a memory long ago suppressed.

 

************************

 

I had watched her many times, albeit from a distance. We both went to the same high school, though as far as she cared, I never did. I had tried to talk with her, smitten as I was with her. But only received blank stares in return, as if I wasn’t even there. And I would walk away, scathing remarks would follow, stabbing me as I went. So I loved from afar, an outcast of my own making. She had only lived a block away from the playground, and would spend many evenings hanging out there with her friends, an inner circle only the most popular dared to apply for admission into. I would walk the 15 blocks hoping to catch a glimpse of her, usually paying the price of being bullied by the neighborhood boys who also hung out there. So my stay was very seldom long.

 

It’s hard to say, looking back now, on what my attraction was too her. Her eyes, her laugh, her long hair which danced in a merry ponytail as she animatedly talked to those in her clique. But even though she forever remains beyond my grasp, it was a part of my life that I would still repeat, even with all the pain and sorrow; only if it included her.

 

I also can recall the last time I saw her , it was here, at the playground I now stood. The year of our graduation. It had been a warm spring Saturday. I had made my sojourn with the same hope in my heart that I always carried, arriving at the playground just before twilight. She was nowhere to be seen. The only ones there were a group of my tormentors crossing across the playground towards me, I was yet unnoticed. I darted past the swings and amongst some trees, hiding inside a small hut used for the children waiting for the bus., hoping they would just walk right by. I breathed a long sigh as they did, then I saw something shimmer out of the corner of my eye.

 

It was her, my secret muse, coming from the tree lined path that led into the playground from the opposite side. The setting sun was playing off the sleek clothes she was wearing, causing the effect that my attention had drawn. She had on a sleek, glistening white ruffled top, and a falling wispy dark skirt that shone like wet satin and fluttered provocatively as she walked. She wasn’t alone. Her Friend “Amanda” was with her, wearing a long slinking strapless gold gown with a long sleeved short black button less satin jacket that flowed silkily along her fine model like figure.. At first I was surprised at how the pair were dressed, Than I recalled overhearing that “Amanda” was going to be maid of honor at her sister’s wedding. It must have taken place today, I figured. My eyes looked them over, savoring the spectacle. “Amanda” was wearing gold jewelry that shimmered along her figure as the pair approached the center of the playground. But my eyes were on the girl( “Maureen”) I adored from afar, now drawing closer. She was wearing the real diamond pendent given to her from her parents as a graduation gift. It was held by a long herringbone chain of gold that bounced merrily from her high breasts, presenting an added enticement to my eyes as it sparkled in a small explosion of colours. Several sparkly rings adorned the fingers of a hand I would dearly have loved to have held. She looked like a vision to me of deep desire, but instead of coming out and showing myself, I crept towards the back of the hut, where a small peephole allowed me a secret vantage point.

 

As they headed towards the swings I could take it no more, and with my heart a plug in my throat, totally, overwhelmed by my emotions, I had just made up my mind to show myself and talk to her, pour my soul out for her. Regardless of the taunting barbs I knew “Amanda” would direct at me. But fate stole away my chance.

 

As I started to rise from my crouch, the sound of a motor bike came up the street. The girls turned to look. A pair of young men in leather, no helmets , came up the street, and spying the girls, slowed down. I could only see “Amanda’s” face as she offered the two boys a very coy look. The girls turned away, and facing my direction, their backs to the pair on the motorcycle then went to the swings. Amanda stood, looking back at the motorcyclists, as “Maureen” slipped onto one of the swings.

 

The two leather clad boys pulled onto the playground, stopping the motorcycle a few yards from the girls, who continued to pay them no heed, although they both had coy little smirks on their heavily made up faces. The pair dismounted with urbane purpose and sauntered over to the swings. A cold feeling washed over me as I saw my opportunity slip away.

 

Reaching the two girls the leather clad boys came around and faced them. I could hear them greet the girls, and they turned as if just noticing the presence of the roguishly handsome youths, who appeared to be a couple of years older than myself.

 

They started to talk with girls, whom obviously did not mind being looked over by them. I can to this day hear the girls laughter as they were lightly teased , I could see them smile to each other, and give the pair of newcomers a blast of their well eye shadowed eyes. Jealousy reared its ugly head before me, knowing they would never have given me the same treatment.

 

After about 5 minutes one of the boys causally moved behind the swing and placing a hand on “Maureen’s” silken waist , and gave the girl of my dreams a gentle push forward. She smiled and kicked out her legs, her long skirt swishing out in a rather provocative manner. He continued to push her, while his friend centered his attention on “Amanda“, and was standing between her and the swinging “Maureen“, a fact that did not seem important at the time. I did observe that each time Maureen was pushed; her Partners hands travelled causally higher up her silky backside. The girls were certainly enjoying the attention.

 

I will admit I felt jealousy rearing its ugly head as I realized she was accepting this stranger more easily then I, I who had known her since grade school. My emotions started an inward battle, the deciding inner battles were fought, and victory declared. I decided I had had enough of my addiction to this girls allure, and had decided to sneak away and put “Maureen”, “Amanda” , the two smooth youths in leather, and the playground, to my back as soon as I could. For with my hiding spot directly in their view I was but a mouse trapped in its hole.

 

But it was just at that moment, when I had formed my epiphany, if that is what it can be called, that it happened. And to this day I am shamed to admit that my feelings were at that point such, I did nothing in the way of helping “Maureen”. Although sometimes the thought creeps out of the recesses of my mind that If I had, she may have seen me as a hero of sorts, and my life possibly would have been altogether different, possibly even happier.

  

He was slick, the leather clad youth pushing the swing, I give him credit for that. I don’t to this day believe his victim even knew what happened. As I had observed, his hands were stealing up “Maureen’s” backside as he pushed her gently, ever so gently. It was when he had reached above her shoulders that I first realized what was occurring. The first indication was that I saw her pendent rise up a few inches as he pushed her out, then again a few more when she came back into him and he pushed her away again the pendent was almost to her throat, the chain hanging long down her back. It was then that he shot a look to his partner who was teasing “Amanda” about her Long gown. Catching his eye, the youth poked “Amanda” below the arm, she giggled, leaning into him. “Maureen”, on the swing, looked over. As she did I saw her shimmery pendent move up and then slide sparkling down the front of “Maureen’s ”satin blouse, followed by the gold chain whose clasp had been flicked open . It landed in a pile on her skirt, unnoticed by anyone else by me. The silky skirt failed to hold the jewelry, and it slithered off, curling up into a heap under her feet. He moved his boot over it, concealing it.

  

I started to move to confront him, but that quick he bent down behind her as if adjusting his boot strap and… , keeping an eye on the girls, he scooped up the necklace and pocketed it. I sat back down, realizing the futility of the situation. But I was seething at the guy in the leather jacket. Not only for stealing something that I knew meant the world to his victim, but also for stealing my feelings for her. I don’t know if that really makes sense, but it did to me at the time.

 

Meanwhile “Amanda” had wrestled herself away from her teaser and fixing her hair to her friend on the swing that they should be getting back. The one standing behind the swing, with the expensive necklace in his pocket, walked over and taking his hands from his pockets, pulled them out and offered his hands to “Maureen” , who took him up on the offer and he pulled her up from the swing. Her long skirt fluttered in a fluid slinky flow, cascading to her feet. I watched, anger boiling inside, as the group walk to the path in the woods.

 

They stopped and talked for a few minutes. I saw “Amanda” giving what appeared to be her number to the boy her a piece of paper he had given her. Then the girls walked off. The pair of leather clad youths watched for some time, waving in the girl’s direction once, before turning and heading to their bike. As the reached it the one looked around and pulling something from his pocket showed it to the other. I thought I saw a brief sparkle, but then, I knew what it was. They both sneered, the one slapping the other on the backside for a job well done. Than quickly he placed it back into his pocket, both than casually mounted their bike, and looking the area over, kicked the engine into life with a roar and sped off in the opposite direction.

 

, I slowly moved out of the little hut, and reaching the far sidewalk left, turned my back on the entire situation, never once looking back, never to return to the playground until this very day.

 

*****************

A young girls screech made me jump, jerking me back suddenly to the present. A group of children had invaded the playground without my being aware, so lost was I in my thoughts.

 

Heaving a long sigh, I turned again, leaving my past , once again , behind.

 

It’s funny. Thanks to a rather wealthy uncle whom no one at school knew existed, and I never divulged, I am rather wealthy now in my own right. But all my money could never repair the piece of my heart that was taken, along, with a diamond pendent, on that fateful day.

  

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DISCLAIMER

All rights and copyrights observed by Chatwick University, Its contributors, associates and Agents

 

The purpose of these chronological photos and accompanying stories, articles is to educate, teach, instruct, and generally increase the awareness level of the general public as to the nature and intent of the underlying criminal elements that have historically plagued humankind.

 

No Part of this can reprinted, duplicated, or copied be without the express written permission and approval of Chatwick University.

 

These photos and stories are works of fiction. Any resemblance to people, living or deceased, is purely coincidental.

As with any work of fiction or fantasy the purpose is for entertainment and/or educational purposes only, and should never be attempted in real life.

We accept no responsibility for any events occurring outside this website.

 

********************************************************************************

 

All rights and copyrights observed by Chatwick University, Its contributors, associates and Agents

 

The purpose of these chronological photos and accompanying stories, articles is to educate, teach, instruct, and generally increase the awareness level of the general public as to the nature and intent of the underlying criminal elements that have historically plagued humankind.

 

No Part of this can reprinted, duplicated, or copied be without the express written permission and approval of Chatwick University.

These photos and stories are works of fiction. Any resemblance to people, living or deceased, is purely coincidental.

As with any work of fiction or fantasy the purpose is for entertainment only, and should never be attempted in real life.

We accept no responsibility for any events occurring outside this website.

  

***************************

 

“Be patient toward all that is unsolved in your heart and try to love the questions themselves, like locked rooms and like books that are now written in a very foreign tongue. Do not now seek the answers, which cannot be given you because you would not be able to live them. And the point is, to live everything. Live the questions now. Perhaps you will then gradually, without noticing it, live along some distant day into the answer.”

― Rainer Maria Rilke

I’m in Isabella Steward Gardener Museum, Boston MA.

 

Some might wonder why does the museum display an empty frame? The name at the bottom is Rembrandt.

 

On March 18, 1990 the Rembrandt was stolen along with 12 other works of art in

in the early morning hours of March 18, 1990. Guards admitted two men posing as police officers responding to a disturbance call, and the thieves tied the guards up and looted the museum over the next hour. The case is unsolved; no arrests have been made and no works have been recovered. The stolen works have been valued at close to 600 million dollars by the Federal Bureau of Investigation and art dealers. The museum is offering a $10 million reward for information leading to the art's recovery, the largest bounty ever offered by a private institution.

 

Experts were puzzled by the choice of artwork, since more valuable works were left untouched.

Bryggen i Bergen , also known as Tyskebryggen and Hansabryggen , comprises the old wooden buildings and fire-proof stone cellars in the historic city center of Bergen . The wharf was built around 1070, and from 1360 to 1754 was the seat of the German office in the city and the central hub for the Hanseatic trade in Norway. The Hansa company was also the Nordics' first trading company. The pier consists of approx. 13 acres with 61 listed buildings, and is on UNESCO's list of world heritage sites . Bryggen is the third most visited tourist attraction in Norway .

 

Streoket Bryggen

The area borders Bergenhus fortress in the north and along Øvregaten to Vetrlidsallmenningen in the south, down this and back along Bryggen's quay front on the east side of Vågen . The area north of the historic commercial farms is called Dreggen . Here is Bradbenken , which is the base for the school ship Statsraad Lehmkuhl , and the Dreggsallmenningen with St. Mary's Church from the 12th century, Bryggens Museum and Gustav Vigeland's statue by Snorre Sturlason . In the area there are also old clusters of wooden houses and more modern blocks of flats with hotels and commercial buildings, as well as the athletics hall Vikinghallen . South of the Dreggsallmenningen are the old Hanseatic wooden trading houses and the Schøtstuene, and south of the Nikolaikirkealmenningen brick apartment buildings in the same style. Farthest to the south is the Hanseatic Museum and the Meat Bazaar . The local archery corps is called Dræggens Buekorps . From Bryggen, Beffen runs a shuttle across Vågen to Munkebryggen on the Strandsiden .

 

The district is comprised of the basic districts Dreggen, Bryggen and Vetrlidsalmenningen, which had a total of 1,164 inhabitants on 1 January 2014 and an area of ​​0.16 km², but this includes smaller areas belonging to the districts Stølen and Fjellet east of Øvregaten and Lille Øvregaten , and smaller areas belonging to the Vågsbunnen area south of the Vetrlidsalmenningen.

 

Name

The name Bryggen or Bryggene can be traced back to the age of sagas . Late in the Middle Ages , in connection with the wharf's emergence as a Hanseatic trading post, the name form Tyskebryggen appears, in the same way that St. Mary's Church was referred to as the "German Church" because services were held in German there until 1868 . In the 17th and 18th centuries, the popular name form Garpebryggen was also common. In Norse, "garp" meant a core vessel, but applied to the German merchants, the term may have been intended ironically. Later, the form Tyskebryggen became dominant. On 25 May 1945, Bergen city council decided that the name should henceforth be Bryggen. The use of the name has been a source of controversy, and several have argued that Tyskebryggen is the most historically correct, and that the city council wishes to reverse the name decision. Lasse Bjørkhaug, former director of Stiftelsen Bryggen, has stated that he has noticed that "more and more people are now using the name Tyskebryggen again". In 2011, Venstre proposed in the city council that the official municipal name should be changed to Tyskebryggen. Hans-Carl Tveit from Venstre justified it by saying that "this is about taking history back. In 2016, Bergen will host the Hansadagen, and it would have been great to get the old name back before then." However, the proposal only received support from the Liberal Party and the independent representative Siv Gørbitz.

 

The commercial farms at Bryggen functioned as warehouses for goods for export and import. Grain from Central Europe was imported and dried fish from Northern Norway was exported. During the spring and autumn convention, the stalls were full of dried fish to be exported. Dried fish was an important commodity for the Catholic countries, which made use of the dried fish during Lent .

 

The front buildings at Bryggen were fitted out as seahouses. As a rule, these searooms were divided into packing sheds and farm sheds on the ground floor and outer living room, living room, inner living room and packing room on the second floor. The rooms on the third floor usually consisted of the master's room, the journeyman's room, the boy's room, sitting rooms and storerooms.

 

When the dried fish from the north reached Bryggen in Bergen, it was first unloaded and then collected in the warehouses for storage. The fish were not made ready for export until the spring or autumn gathering was over, as these were very busy periods. It was the farm boys who were responsible for preparing the fish for sale in the form of cutting the necks and spurs (tails) at each workstation. The dried fish wrecking, the quality determination and sorting of the dried fish, was left to the merchant's second-in-command, the journeyman or wrecker , with responsibility for assessing the value of the fish according to size and quality.

 

The trading community at Bryggen was strictly stratified, both in the Hanseatic period and later. Young men entered the community as room boys ( Stabenjungen ) with tasks related to daily life in the living rooms, after 3-4 years they advanced to schute boys ( Schutenjungen ) who had tasks, among other things, related to unloading and loading the Nordland jets . After a few more years, they were able to advance to journeyman , after passing an exam in trade theory, knowledge of goods and arithmetic. The office also had its own jurisdiction , as well as a separate school system where boys were apprenticed. There were strict living conditions, where it was forbidden for the members to associate with the inhabitants of Bergen. Hanseaters were also supposed to live in celibacy so that they did not have children who could lay claim to values ​​such as their paternal inheritance. The ban was not complied with, and in Lübeck's archives there are wills in which repatriated Hanseatics name the frill they had in Bergen, and any children in the relationship.

 

Originally, the Germans were only allowed to "sit" (i.e. shop) in Bergen in the time between the cross mass in the spring (3 May) and the cross mass in the autumn (14 September); but gradually they became "winter sitters". Around 1259, several of them wintered in Bergen as tenants with Norwegian farm owners at Bryggen, and one German soon became a landlord himself. The winter sitting enabled advantageous acquisitions in the winter and early shipping in the spring. Nevertheless, the Germans refused to pay tithes in Bergen, so King Håkon decreed that foreigners who rented houses in the city for 12 months had to be considered permanent residents and were obliged to pay tithes and other things on an equal basis with Norwegians. In 1250, a peace and trade agreement was concluded between King Håkon and Lübeck as a guarantee for mutual free trade between Norwegians and Lübeckers, mutual help against raiders and conditions in Norway that had previously existed. However, the Germans were not satisfied with the legal certainty they experienced. The Norwegian Wreck Court exposed the Hanseatic League to regular looting when their ships were wrecked along the Norwegian coast. In addition, merchants from Hamburg thought they were exposed to a false accusation of murder in Bergen. This Magnus Lagabøte acquitted them for later.

 

The City Act of 1276 assumed that there were also foreigners among the residents of Norwegian housing estates, and specifies that they must share public burdens such as wheat patrol and wire tax , as well as "skipdrått" (i.e. towing ships ashore in the city). In the summer of 1278, German envoys negotiated several exemptions with Magnus Lagabøte in Tønsberg . A royal letter secured them exemption from ship's draught, which the city law otherwise imposed on all merchants who stayed three nights or more in Bergen, as well as the right to buy hides and butter in smaller lots on wharves and in vessels during the summer months. (Otherwise it was required by law that trade took place in houses or in squares.) Changes were also made to Norwegian stranding law, so that the Hanseatic League could keep all the goods they salvaged by their own efforts after a shipwreck. No one was allowed to remove wreckage that they had not declared.

 

Eric of Pomerania's dispute with the counts in Holstein became noticeable in Norway when the Hanseatic League decided to close the office at Bryggen. In the spring of 1427 they left Bergen, and did not return until six years later. In the meantime, Bergen had been subjected to two terrible attacks by the Vitalie brothers , who were also known for plundering Hanseatic property.

 

In 1440, complaints were received that German merchants who set up Dutch stalls on the Strand , chased the Dutch away and threw their goods into the mud. More than a hundred armed Hanseatic League were also said to have entered Bergen's council chamber on the Tuesday after St. Peter's Day (February 23), and chased the councilors with axes and machetes . The conflicts peaked with Olav Nilsson as chief of staff at Bergenhus . He maintained an intransigent line against the Hanseatic League and was deposed in 1453; but as late as 1455 he was back after pressuring Eric of Pomerania to reinstate himself. In the meantime he had operated as a privateer and plundered Hanseatic ships. Well, Nilsson could point out that the Hanseatic League only reluctantly submitted to Norwegian law; but they could not tolerate a former pirate as captain. In 1455, the town witnessed armed Hanseatic troops chasing Nilsson, the bishop and their entourage towards Nordnes where they sought refuge in Munkeliv monastery . While Nilsson climbed the tower, the Hanseatic set fire to the monastery. They paid for the reconstruction, but they refused to pay the fine to Nilsson's survivors. Of course, there was a legally binding judgment on such a fine, but King Christian I did not pursue the case as he had taken out large loans from the Hanseatic League for his warfare.

 

Bergen's power center

Bryggen used to be the center of the city's worldly power. Maria Gildeskåle is first mentioned in Magnus Lagabøte's town law of 1276, and was then the meeting place for the town council. The building was located next to Mariakirkegården and served as the city's first "town hall", the place where the city administration and the city meeting were supposed to gather according to the city law. The building is today a ruin, located between Bryggens Museum and St Mary's Church. Originally, the building was located as a rear or northern part of the Gullskoen wharf .

 

The new council chamber was built around 1300-15. It was located in the middle of Bryggen, by the Nikolaikirkealmenningen, where the square was also located. The council chamber was in use until the 1560s. Christoffer Valkendorf was sheriff of Bergenhus from 1556 to 1560 . After Valkendorf arrived in Bergen, several unsolved murders were committed in some of the city's many brothels . Valkendorf had a number of the brothels demolished, and to a large extent abolished the privileges and monopoly of the Hanseatic League in Bergen. The German craftsmen were forced to comply with Norwegian law and were given the choice between swearing allegiance to the king or leaving. In 1559, 59 German craftsmen had to leave. In the 1560s, Bergen's center of power was gradually moved from Tyskebryggen to its current location, at Christoffer Valkendorf's former private residence at Rådstuplass, what is today called the old town hall .

 

The brewery today

The historic wooden buildings from 1702 received cladding in the 19th century. The preserved buildings at Bryggen today consist of the following rows of farms, counted from the south: South and north Holmedalsgård , Bellgården , Jacobsfjorden (Hjortegården), Svensgården (double farm), Enhjørningen , south and north Bredsgård and Bugården (Bergen) .

 

Svensgården's head with three faces

Above the entrance to Svensgården hangs a carved head with three faces in wood, a copy of an original in marble . Conservator Jan Hendrich Lexow has argued in the yearbook for Stavanger museum in 1957 that the original was a gift to King Håkon Håkonsson from the German-Roman Emperor Frederick II. Lexow believed that the head was made by a sculptor in southern Italy as a symbol of the triune God . Frederick II held court in Palermo . He and King Håkon exchanged gifts, and Lexow believed that the head may have been just such a gift from the period 1230-40. Furthermore, he assumed that the head was given a central place in Store Kristkirke, which was located north of Håkonshallen and was the coronation church. When Store Kristkirke was demolished on orders from Eske Bille in 1531, Lexow believed that the Hanseatic League took care of the head and used it as a mark for Svensgården, which at the time was being rebuilt after a fire. Such marking of the farms was important at a time when many could neither read nor write. The head at Svensgården has few parallels in European art, and the design of the nose, mouth and beard points, in Lexow's opinion, to antiquity , when the Christian image of God was still influenced by portraits of Zeus .

 

Preservation and destruction

Throughout history, Bergen has experienced many fires, since the building mass mostly consisted of wood. The building structure has nevertheless been preserved, despite many fires and subsequent reconstructions. Awareness of Bryggen's cultural-historical value was awakened already when the traditional business at Bryggen came to an end. In 1900, the wooden buildings on both sides of Vågen were largely intact.

 

Research and documentation

Johan Wilhelm Olsen (also known as Johan Wiberg Olsen; 1829-98), who had run Nordic trade in Finnegården, established the Hanseatic Museum as early as 1872, and reckons July 26 as the opening day when King Oscar II visited the town and the museum. His son Christian Koren Wiberg continued the work and sold the museum to Bergen municipality in 1916. In 1899 he published Det tische Kontor i Bergen , a description of the old Hanseatic buildings with a number of illustrations.

 

In 1908, Koren Wiberg received support from the municipality and the Ancient Heritage Association to carry out excavations in the plot below the newly constructed Rosenkrantzgaten. Findings from the excavation were reproduced, among other things, in Contribution to Bergen's Cultural History . The excavations uncovered the so-called wine cellar , which in the Middle Ages was also the town hall. Koren Wiberg had found documents (from 1651) in Lübeck showing the location of the wine cellar, which he was able to confirm during the excavation. This town plan with a town hall/wine cellar located between the market square and the church was typical of North German (Hanseatic) trading towns.

 

During the excavations in the southern part of the Bryggen, Christian Koren Wiberg found deep foundations of rough logs laid together. The lafting formed "vessels" over 2 meters high, and about 1 meter wide and 2 meters long. The vessels were assembled and lowered into the water between piles, and then filled with gravel and stone. The logs were made of pine and in good condition when Koren Wiberg made his excavations. The foundations could be dated to the fires in 1413 and 1476 or earlier. According to Koren Wiberg, the first sea houses at Vågen were low and made of coarse, lath timber. They had pointed gables and corridors around the entire building. According to Koren Wiberg, Bryggen's facade was already painted from the 16th century. From 1550 it became common to build stone cellars in Bergen, probably to store goods in a fire-proof place, according to Koren Wiberg. Hans Nagel's bakery, mentioned in 1441, Koren Wiberg located at the modern Øvregaten 17 , where a bakery was also run in Koren Wiberg's time.

 

Murbryggen

Until 1901, the entire area between Dreggsallmenningen in the north and Kjøttbazaren in the south was a continuous series of wooden trading houses that had been rebuilt after the town fire in 1702 . The commercial farms south of the Nikolaikirkeallmenningen were then demolished and replaced with brick apartment buildings in the same style, designed by Jens Zetlitz Monrad Kielland , with the exception of the southernmost Finnegården , a museum that also includes the old Schøtstuene which was rebuilt in 1937–38 with partially original and partially reconstructed parts, in the area south of St. Mary's Church .

 

Conservation

After the first act on building conservation was passed in 1920, the conservation list from Bergen was adopted in 1927. The conservation covered all the buildings on Bryggen, so that the overall cultural environment was safeguarded.

 

The explosion at Vågen

The explosion accident on 20 April 1944 accelerated the plans to demolish the Bryggen, and Terboven received the support of all professionals in Bergen municipality in his desire to raze the area to the ground. Seen through Terboven's eyes, the labyrinthine system of farms was ideal for hiding resistance fighters, such as the Theta group and their radio transmitter . Strong forces in the local population nevertheless succeeded in obtaining support, not least from Professor Hermann Phleps of the Technical College in Danzig ( Gdańsk ), who made a thorough inspection of the destroyed buildings, and concluded that the "German quarter" could be saved with simple means. The real rescue was the emergency product "Domus plates", which got soaked in the rain and easily broke. But they were still useful, as they temporarily covered 8,000 square meters of roof space. The demolished roofs were not the only problem. The explosion had also lifted Bryggen into the air, and let it fall back down onto the ground, so that a jack had to be used to get the houses more or less at an angle again. But the safeguarding had been carried out, not least to the delight of architect Halvor Vreim from the Riksantikvaren , who had already written off the Bryggen.

 

The fire of 1955

A major fire on 4 July 1955 destroyed the northern half of the remaining old wooden trading yards. The fire was the start of Asbjørn Herteig's excavations of the area. In the spring of 1962, the excavations entered their seventh season, made possible by the use of civilian workers in the summer. One year, spring came so late that the civil workers had to chip away 13 inches of ice to get started.

 

The facades of the burned-down part were rebuilt as copies in 1980 , and form part of the SAS hotel located in the area. The Bryggens Museum is also located on the fire site with remains from the oldest times uncovered by the archaeological excavations, which added enormous source material to the research.

 

Inscription on the UNESCO World Heritage List

Bryggen in Bergen was listed on the UNESCO World Heritage List in 1979 according to cultural criterion III , which refers to a place that "bears a unique, or at least rare, testimony of a cultural tradition or of a living or extinct civilization". In this connection, UNESCO points out that Bryggen bears witness to social organization and illustrates how the Hanseatic merchants in the 14th century utilized the space in their part of the city, and that it is a type of northern fondaco (combined trading depot, housing and ghetto for foreign merchants) which cannot be found anywhere else in the world, where the buildings have remained part of the urban landscape and preserve the memory of one of the oldest trading posts in Northern Europe.

 

Ownership and management

Most of the buildings on Bryggen are privately owned. "Stiftelsen Bryggen" currently owns 36 of the 61 buildings that are part of the world heritage. "Stiftelsen Bryggen" and "Friends of Bryggen" were formed in 1962. The purpose of the foundation is to preserve Bryggen in consultation with antiquarian authorities. The foundation is engaged in both rental of premises and security, maintenance and restoration work. Stiftelsen Bryggen has its own staff of carpenters with special expertise in traditional crafts . "Bryggen private farm owners' association" is an association of several private owners who together own 24 buildings. Bergen municipality owns Finnegården , the building that houses the Hanseatic Museum. All the buildings in private ownership can be renovated with up to 90% funding through a grant scheme administered by Vestland county municipality (formerly Hordaland). The listed buildings at Bryggen are managed as cultural monuments by the cultural heritage section of Vestland county municipality. The archaeological cultural monuments in the medieval grounds are managed by the Swedish National Archives . All archaeological work is 100% publicly funded and the necessary excavations are carried out by NIKU .

 

Other buildings in the area

Bryggen's museum is built where there were wharf yards until the big fire on 4 July 1955.

The Hanseatic Museum is located on the Bryggen, by the Fisketorget, and tells the story of Bergen and the Hanseatic League.

The meat market is the city's bazaar for foodstuffs, built in 1874 – 76 in the neo-Romanesque style .

Mariakirken in Bergen dates from the 12th century, and between 1408 and 1766 was the church of the Hanseatic League. Services were held in German here until 1868.

The Schøtstuene were the assembly houses for the residents of the commercial farms, used for meals and as party halls, court and meeting rooms, rebuilt in 1937 – 38 .

 

Streets in the district

Bradbench (Bergen)

Castle Street (Bergen)

Bryggen (Street in Bergen)

Sandbrogaten (Bergen)

The hook (Bergen)

Dreggsallmenningen (Bergen)

Upper Dreggsallmenningen (Bergen)

Øvregaten (Bergen)

Rosenkrantzgaten (Bergen)

Nikolaikircheallmenningen (Bergen)

Lodin Lepps street

Finnegårdsgaten (Bergen)

Vetrlids general

 

Bergen is a city and municipality in Vestland and a former county (until 1972) on Norway's west coast, surrounded by " De syv fjell ", and referred to as " Westland's capital". According to tradition, Bergen was founded by Olav Kyrre in 1070 with the name Bjørgvin , which means "the green meadow between the mountains".

 

Bergen is a trading and maritime city, and was Norway's capital in the country's heyday, later referred to as the Norgesveldet . Bergen became the seat of the Gulatinget from the year 1300. From approx. In 1360, the Hanseatic League had one of its head offices in Bergen, a trading activity that continued at Bryggen until 1899. Bergen was the seat of Bergenhus county and later Bergen stiftamt . The city of Bergen became its own county (county) in 1831 and was incorporated into Hordaland county in 1972. Bergen was the largest city in the Nordic countries until the 17th century and Norway's largest city until the 1830s, and has since been Norway's second largest city .

 

Bergen municipality had 291,940 inhabitants on 31 December 2023. Bergen township had 259,958 inhabitants per 6 October 2020. This was an increase of 2,871 inhabitants since 2019. [4] In 2023, the metropolitan region of Bergen and surrounding areas had 414,863 inhabitants.

 

Bergen is a city of residence for a number of important actors and institutions in culture, finance, health, research and education. The city is the seat of Vestland County Municipality , Gulating County Council and Bjørgvin Bishopric . Of the national government agencies , the Directorate of Fisheries , the Institute of Marine Research , the Norwegian Competition Authority , the Ship Registers and the Norwegian Navy's main base are located in Bergen.

 

Bergen is the center for marine, maritime and petroleum-related research environments and business clusters that are among the most complete and advanced in the world. Bergen has a strong and versatile business community, especially in banking and insurance, construction, trade and services, high technology, mass media, the food industry, tourism and transport. Bergen has one of the Nordic countries' busiest airports and one of Europe's largest and busiest ports [5] , and is the starting point for Hurtigruten and the Bergen Railway .

 

Bryggen in Bergen is listed on UNESCO's World Heritage List and reminds of the city's historical connection to the Hanseatic League . Bergen's city coat of arms with a silver three-towered castle standing on seven gold mountains is based on the city's old seal , which is considered Norway's oldest. Bergen's city song is called "Views from Ulrikken" .

No how many times this family of blow-ups is blown down, the Slasher is back to slash. Last week the happy brown cookie shaped victim (stolen blower) and the lie-down-Santa (screwed up anchor) were the victims.

All we can say to the Slasher and the home-owner is please give it a rest for 2023. Christmas is over. Time to put the characters to rest in the garage. Thanks to Dr Watson (agent Ronji) for taking the third, and we pray last, forensic photograph of the crime scene.

 

We always remain unsolved

Write if you have something to say. My WhatsApp: +4915163164675

Set: Unsolved cases + Unfinished WW1 bunker Base I:3 (1915) (Helsinki, Finland)

soundtrack

   

The old St-George-In-The-East Mortuary is where the bodies of Elizabeth Stride & the Pinchin Street Torso were found. the latter is part of the series of unsolved murders in the East End of London collectively referred to as the Whitechapel Murders, but only five are considered to have been the work of an unknown killer that became known as Jack the Ripper.

 

It became a nature study in 1904, & it closed in the second world war. It has been dilapidated since.

 

Thought it would be interesting to use this very wide lens with part of the frame really up close to one of the old tombstones there.

 

Nikon F4. AF Nikkor 14mm F2.8D lens. CineStill 50 35mm C41 film.

This was taken by a friend of mine in a local country cemetery where a family of 5 are buried that were murdered with an ax. It still remains an unsolved mystery after 137 years. It was taken in broad daylight with a film camera. My wife and I used to work for Kodak processing and inspecting film and printing. We looked at the negatives and seen no light fog, no double exposures, no anything peculiar at all.

What I see is a robed figure to the left split at edge of photo with maybe its arm around a older woman's head with a scarf over her head and around her neck. Her nose is just under the darker stone in back with an obvious mouth/frown below. She seems to be leaning in towards the robed figure.

 

Tomorrow I will post a few of my images I captured at night using a film camera and tell their story.

 

Comments welcome.

I am proud to announce my very first solo art gallery showing. This will focus on some of my abandoned places photographs.

 

Info on the opening night: reception that happens this Friday night, 6PM - 8PM, at the Salem Art Gallery in Salem, MA. The Salem Art Gallery is located the Milton Room in The Stanic Temple.

 

This event is free and open to the public! Join us for the opening reception of the new exhibit at 6pm Friday 4/21/23.

 

FINDING BEAUTY IN THE DISSONANCE

 

Frank C. Grace finds beauty in an unsolved mystery; searching in the weird and creepy, in the local legends, and in historic locations that tell their own distinct story. 'Finding Beauty in the Dissonance' offers to reveal the hidden spectacle where others might not expect to find it - in utterly dilapidated buildings and all things left behind. No matter what Grace photographs, he aims for the final image to tell a story. To attempt to take one look deeper at a scene and wonder: What happened here? Why was it all just left behind?

Who used to live here?

 

"All these abandoned places have an impact on me when I am there with my camera. take a look around and soak it all in. These places have a story to tell so I intently listen with all my senses. The light, atmosphere, smell, colors and sounds, etc. I use a variety of different digital editing to convey what I felt while at these places. My aim is to uncover details and clues that are revealed in each scene so that the viewer gets transported."

 

'Finding Beauty in the Dissonance' pieces range from places where the story may be obvious, such as Chernobyl, to the not so obvious abandoned hotels, churches, and reportedly historically haunted spots. It aims to savor the beauty in the dissonance through Grace's lens - a unique perspective put forward of the places humans left behind. Juxtaposing decay and growth, in which nature's reclamations are left visible between cracked concrete and broken walls, with wide angles and tessellations of the seemingly mundane.

+++ DISCLAIMER +++

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

  

Some background:

Due to increasing tensions in Europe which led to World War 2, AVRO Aircraft started developing combat aircraft, and as a subsidiary of Hawker, they had access to the Hurricane plans. At the time that the Hurricane was developed, RAF Fighter Command consisted of just 13 squadrons, each equipped with either the Hawker Fury, Hawker Demon, or the Bristol Bulldog – all of them biplanes with fixed-pitch wooden propellers and non-retractable undercarriages. After the Hurricane's first flight, Avro started working on a more refined and lighter aircraft, resulting in a similar if not higher top speed and improved maneuverability.

 

The result was Avro’s project 675, also known as the "Swallow". The aircraft was a very modern and lightweight all-metal construction, its profile resembled the Hawker Hurricane but its overall dimensions were smaller, the Swallow appeared more squatted and streamlined, almost like a race version. The wings were much thinner, too, and their shape reminded of the Supermarine Spitfire’s famous oval wings. Unlike the Spitfire, though, the Swallow’s main landing gear had a wide track and retracted inwards. The tail wheel was semi-retractable on the prototype, but it was replaced by a simpler, fixed tail wheel on production models.

 

The Swallow made its first flight on 30th December 1937 and the Royal Air Force was so impressed by its performance against the Hurricane that they ordered production to start immediately, after a few minor tweaks to certain parts of the aircraft had been made.

 

On 25 July 1939, the RAF accepted their first delivery of Avro Swallow Mk. Is. The first machines were allocated to No.1 Squadron, at the time based in France, where they were used in parallel to the Hurricanes for evaluation. These early machines were powered by a 1.030 hp (770 kW) Rolls-Royce Merlin Mk II liquid-cooled V-12, driving a wooden two-bladed, fixed-pitch propeller. The light aircraft achieved an impressive top speed of 347 mph (301 kn, 558 km/h) in level flight – the bigger and heavier Hurricane achieved only 314 mph (506 km/h) with a similar engine. Like the Hurricane, the Swallow was armed with eight unsynchronized 0.303 in (7.7 mm) Browning machine guns in the outer wings, outside of the propeller disc.

 

In spring 1940, Avro upgraded the serial production Swallow Mk.I's to Mk.IA standard: the original wooden propeller was replaced by a de Havilland or Rotol constant speed metal propeller with three blades, which considerably improved performance. Many aircraft were retrofitted with this update in the field workshops in the summer of 1940.

 

In parallel, production switched to the Swallow Mk. II: This new version, which reached the frontline units in July 1940, received an uprated engine, the improved Rolls-Royce Merlin III, which could deliver up to 1,310 hp (977 kW) with 100 octane fuel and +12 psi boost. With the standard 87 Octane fuel, engine performance did not improve much beyond the Merlin II's figures, though. A redesigned, more streamlined radiator bath was mounted, too, and altogether these measures boosted the Swallow’s top speed to 371 mph (597 km/h) at 20,000 ft (6,096 m). This was a considerable improvement; as a benchmark, the contemporary Hurricane II achieved only 340 mph (547 km/h).

 

However, several fundamental weak points of the Swallow remained unsolved: its limited range could not be boosted beyond 300 miles (500 km) and the light machine gun armament remained unchanged, because the Swallow’s thin wings hardly offered more space for heavier weapons or useful external stores like drop tanks. Despite these shortcomings, the pilots loved their agile fighter, who described the Swallow as an updated Hawker Fury biplane fighter and less as a direct competitor to the Hurricane.

 

Being a very agile aircraft, the Swallow Mk. II became the basis for a photo reconnaissance version, too, the PR Mk. II. This was not a true production variant of the Swallow, though, but rather the result of field modifications in the MTO where fast recce aircraft were direly needed. The RAF Service Depot at Heliopolis in Egypt had already converted several Hurricanes Is for photo reconnaissance duties in January 1941, and a similar equipment update was developed for the nimble Swallow, too, despite its limited range.

The first five Swallow Mk. IIs were modified in March 1941 and the machines were outfitted with a pair of F24 cameras with 8-inch focal length lenses in the lower rear fuselage, outwardly recognizable through a shallow ventral fairing behind the cooler. Some PR Mk. IIs (but not all of them) were also outfitted with dust filters, esp. those machines that were slated to operate in Palestine and Northern Africa. For night operations some PR Mk. IIs also received flame dampers (which markedly reduced the engine’s performance and were quickly removed again) or simpler glare shields above the exhaust stacks.

 

The machines quickly proved their worth in both day and night reconnaissance missions in the Eastern Mediterranean theatre of operations, and more field conversions followed. Alternative camera arrangements were developed, too, including one vertical and two oblique F24s with 14-inch focal length lenses. More Swallow Mk. IIs were converted in this manner in Malta during April (six) and in Egypt in October 1941 (four). A final batch, thought to be of 12 aircraft, was converted in late 1941.

 

Even though the Swallow PR Mk. IIs were initially left armed with the wing-mounted light machine guns, many aircraft lost their guns partly or even fully to lighten them further. Most had their wing tips clipped for better maneuverability at low altitudes, a feature of the Swallow Mk. III fighter that had been introduced in August 1941. Some machines furthermore received light makeshift underwing shackles for photoflash bombs, enabling night photography. These were not standardized, though, a typical field workshop donor were the light bomb shackles from the Westland Lysander army co-operation and liaison aircraft, which the Swallow PR Mk. IIs partly replaced. These allowed a total of four 20 lb (9.1 kg) bombs or flash bombs for night photography to be carried and released individually through retrofitted manual cable pulls. The mechanisms were simply mounted into the former machine gun bays and the pilot could release the flash bombs sequentially through the former gun trigger.

 

For duties closer to the front lines a small number of Swallow PR Mk. IIs were further converted to Tactical Reconnaissance (Tac R) aircraft. An additional radio was fitted for liaison with ground forces who were better placed to direct the aircraft, and the number of cameras was reduced to compensate for the gain of weight.

 

However, by 1942, the Swallow had already reached its limited development potential and became quickly outdated in almost any aspect. Since the Supermarine Spitfire had in the meantime been successfully introduced and promised a much bigger development potential, production of the Avro Swallow already ceased in late 1942 after 435 aircraft had been built. Around the same time, the Swallows were quickly phased out from front-line service, too. Several machines were retained as trainers, messenger aircraft or instructional airframes. 20 late production Mk. IIs were sold to the Irish Air Corps, and a further 50 aircraft were sent to Canada as advanced fighter trainers, where they served until the end of the hostilities in 1945.

 

General characteristics:

Crew: 1

Length: 28 ft 1 in (8.57 m)

Wingspan: 33 ft 7 in (10.25 m)

Height: 8 ft 6 in (2.60 m)

Wing area: 153 ft² (16.40 m²)

Empty weight: 3,722 lb (1,720 kg)

Gross weight: 5,100 lb (2,315 kg)

 

Powerplant:

1× Rolls-Royce Merlin III liquid-cooled V-12, rated at 1,310 hp (977 kW) at 9,000 ft (2,700 m)

 

Performance:

Maximum speed: 381 mph (614 km/h) at 20,000 ft (6,096 m)

Range: 360 miles (580 km)

Service ceiling: 36,000 ft (10,970 m)

Rate of climb: 2,780 ft/min (14.1 m/s)

Wing loading: 29.8 lb/ft² (121.9 kg/m²)

Power/mass: 0.15 hp/lb (0.25 kW/kg)

 

Armament:

No internal guns

2x underwing hardpoints for a pair of 19-pound (8.6 kg) photoflash bombs each

  

The kit and its assembly:

This is the third incarnation of a whif that I have built some time ago for a Battle of Britain Group Build at whatifmodellers.com. This fictional machine – or better: its model – is based on a profile drawing conceived by fellow forum member nighthunter: an Avia B.135, outfitted with a Merlin engine, a ventral radiator in the style of a Hawker Hurricane, and with RAF markings. It was IIRC a nameless design, so that I created my own for it: the Avro 675 Swallow, inspired by the bird's slender wing and body that somehow resonates in the clean B.35 lines (at least for me).

 

I’ve already built two of these fictional aircraft as early WWII RAF fighters, but there was still potential in the basic concept – primarily as a canvas for the unusual livery (see below). The basis became, once again, the vintage KP Models B.35 fighter with a fixed landing gear. It’s a sleek and pretty aircraft, but the kit’s quality is rather so-so (the molds date back to 1974). Details are quite good, though, especially on the exterior, you get a mix of engraved and raised surface details. But the kit’s fit is mediocre at best, there is lots of flash and the interior is quite bleak. But, with some effort, things can be mended.

 

Many donation parts for the Swallow, beyond the Merlin engine, propeller and (underwing) radiator, and pitot, were taken in this case from a Revell 1:72 Spitfire Mk. V. Inside of the cockpit I used more Spitfire donor material, namely the floor, dashboard, seat and rear bulkhead/headrest with a radio set. The blurry, single-piece canopy was cut into three pieces for optional open display on the ground, but this was not a smart move since the material turned out to be very thin and, even worse, brittle – cracks were the unfortunate result. 

 

New landing gear wells had to be carved out of the massive lower wing halves. Since the original drawn Swallow profile did not indicate the intended landing gear design, I went for an inward-retracting solution, using parts from the Spitfire and just mounted them these “the other way around”. Due to the oil cooler in one of the wing roots, though, the stance ended up a little wide, but it’s acceptable and I stuck to this solution as I already used it on former Swallow builds, too. But now I know why the real-world B.135 prototype had its landing gear retract outwards – it makes more sense from an engineering point of view.

 

The Merlin fitted very well onto the B.35 fuselage, diameter and shape are a very good match, even though there’s a small gap to bridge – but that’s nothing that could not be mended with a bit of 2C putty and PSR. A styrene tube inside of the donor engine holds a styrene pipe for a long metal axis with the propeller, so that it can spin freely. The large chin fairing for a dust filter is a transplant from an AZ Models Spitfire, it helps hide the ventral engine/fuselage intersection and adds another small twist to this fictional aircraft. From the same source came the exhaust stacks, Revell’s OOB parts are less detailed and featured sinkholes, even though the latter would later hardly be recognizable.

With the dust filter the Swallow now looks really ugly in a side view, it has something P-40E-ish about it, and the additional bulge behind the radiator for the cameras (certainly not the best place, but the PR Hurricanes had a similar arrangement) does not make the profile any better!

 

Further small mods include anti-glare panels above and behind the exhaust stacks (simple 0.5 mm styrene sheet), and the small underwing flash bombs were scratched from styrene profile material.

  

Painting and markings:

The livery was the true motivation to build this model, as a canvas to try it out: Long ago I came across a very interesting Hawker Hurricane camouflage in a dedicated book about this type, a simple all-over scheme in black blue, also known as “Bosun Blue”, together with very limited and toned-down markings. As far as I could find out this livery was used in the Middle East and later in India, too, for nighttime photo reconnaissance missions.

 

However, defining this color turned out to be very difficult, as I could not find any color picture of such an aircraft. I guess that it was not a defined color, but rather an individual field mix with whatever was at hand – probably roundel blue and black? Therefore, I mixed the obscure Bosun Blue myself, even though this took some sorting out and experiments. I initially considered pure Humbrol 104 (Oxford Blue) but found it to have a rather reddish hue. FS 35042 (USN Sea Blue) was rejected, too, because it was too greenish, even with some black added. I eventually settled on a mix of Humbrol 15 (Midnight Blue) and 33 (Flat Black), which appeared as a good compromise and also as a very dark variant of a cyan-heavy blue tone.

The cockpit interior and the inside of the landing gear wells were painted with RAF cockpit green (Humbrol 78), while the landing gear struts became aluminum (Humbrol 56) – pretty standard.

 

The decals/markings were puzzled together from various sources. Using a real-world RAF 208 Squadron MTO night photography Hurricane as benchmark I gave the aircraft a light blue individual code letter (decals taken from the Revell Spitfire Mk. V's OOB sheet, which has the letters’ Sky tone totally misprinted!). The spinner was painted in the same tone, mixed individually to match the letter.

Markings were apparently generally very limited on these machines, e. g. they did not carry any unit letter code) and the Type B roundels only on fuselage and upper wings. The latter were improvised, with wacky Type B-esque roundels from a Falkland era Sea Harrier placed on top of RAF roundels with yellow edges. The sources I consulted were uncertain whether these rings were yellow, white, or maybe even some other light color, but I went for yellow as it was the RAF's markings standard. Looks odd, but also pretty cool, esp. with the Type B roundels’ slightly off proportions.

The subdued two-color fin flash on the dark aircraft was/is unusual, too, and following real world practice on some PR Hurricanes I added a thin white edge for better contrast. The small black serial on a white background, as if it was left over from an overpainted former fuselage band, came from a Latvian Sopwith Camel (PrintScale sheet); in RAF service N8187 would have been used during the pre-WWII period and therefore a plausible match for the Swallow, even though it belongs to a batch of RN aircraft (It would probably have been a Fairey Fulmar)..

 

No black ink washing was applied to the model due to its dark overall color, just the cockpit and the landing gear were treated this way. Some light weathering and panel shading was done all over, and soot stains as well as light grey “heat-bleached” areas due to lean combustion around the exhausts were painted onto the fuselage. Finally, everything was sealed under a coat of matt acrylic varnish (Italeri) and wire antennae (stretched sprue material) were added.

  

A simple project, realized in a couple of days – thanks to the experience gathered during former builds of this fictional aircraft. However, the Avro Swallow looked already promising in nighthunter's original profile, almost like a missing link between the sturdy Hurricane and the more glorious Spitfire. The result looks very convincing, and the all-blue livery suits the aircraft well! . At first glance, the Swallow looks like an early Spitfire, but then you notice the different wings, the low canopy and the shorter but deeper tail. You might also think that it was a travestied Yak-3 or LaGG aircraft, but again the details don’t match, it’s a quite subtle creation.

I am amazed how good this thing looks overall, with its elegant, slender wings and the sleek fuselage lines – even though the dust filter and the camera fairing strongly ruin the side profile. Maybe another one will join my RAF Swallow collection someday, this time in Irish Air Corps colors.

 

The thinking was almost exclusively about his years in the Department and one particular high profile unsolved case, which had been thrust upon him very early in his career and that had left a profound impression on him: the mysterious disappearance of Dana Drayton, a well known socialite and heiress to part of the fortunes of two prominent Detroit families. Joe knew he would never solve the case by rehashing it, but he couldn’t suppress the notion that something critical had been overlooked in the investigation. Something seemingly insignificant, which might connect two other unmatching bits of information and thus become the key that unlocks the door to an answer. But did anyone want an answer at this point, so many years after the crime, if there ever was a crime? The public had long ago forgotten, the news media had nothing new to report and if they were going to resurrect cold cases, then the Jimmy Hoffa story had more bizarre theories to mine. Every couple years it seemed a new Hoffa burial site would get dug up only to become the latest dead end. The Dana Drayton case had none of that circus- like quality. And, although the odds were that whoever was a part of it was resting in a grave somewhere, Joe had to know who, where and why for his own peace of mind. It was as addictive as working on a jigsaw puzzle, and usually brought on a tide of memories: his role in the investigation, the influence of his mentor, Jack McGuire, and the backdrop of Detroit’s inexorable slide from a technology and societal pioneer, to a symbolic icon of the “Rust Belt,” depopulation, urban inner city crime, and municipal mismanagement and neglect.

“There was a place in the asteroid belt called the Hive. It was a deadly whirl of destruction filled with thousands of spiraling asteroids—where no spaceship could enter and return in one piece. And deep within it lurked an unsolved murder. Terwilliger Ames was the best attorney this side of Earth; but when he was swayed by the charms of a beautiful young woman into accepting a murder case, he had no idea his life would soon be in grave danger, and that his adventures would lead him to the deepest part of the asteroid belt in search of a cold-blooded killer. An exceptional, thought-provoking outer space murder mystery.” [Preview from the 2011 paperback edition published by Armchair Fiction]

John Allen Photography 2025

qwikLoadr™ Videos...

Rush | Theatrical Trailer Ron Howard

 [director/producer] • YouTube™

Gin Wigmore | New Rush Official! • Vimeo™

racingDaze | part III [11.6.21] Holeshot! gwennie2006! • YouTube™

 

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apolloHawk1 [1.31-2.2.24] GrfxDziner! • flickr™

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check out the latest blog from the

Deanna Cremin Memorial Foundation:

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Hope you enjoy!

 

An (unsolved) attack was carried out on the shrine in August 2015, which left 22 dead and over 100 injured.

 

Im August 2015 wurde auf den Schrein ein (ungeklärter)

Angriff verübt, bei dem 22 Menschen starben und über 100 verletzt wurden.