St Mary, Woolpit, Suffolk

 

Woolpit is perhaps the most perfect of all Suffolk villages. Not particularly sleepy, and only a little chocolate boxy, but somewhere people actually actually live in. Its shops and pubs are arranged around the pleasant village square, and Phipson's crazy spire towers above them. Woolpit still has its school, and you wouldn't need to get in the car every time you needed to go shopping, as you'd have to do in some of Suffolk's more famously picturesque villages, like Kersey, Rattlesden and Tuddenham. Further, Woolpit has its mythology; the two green children, who climbed out of the ground, speaking a strange language and afraid of the sunlight. The boy died soon after, but the girl grew up and married; she learned to speak English, and told of St Martin's Land, from where she and her brother had emerged. There are holes in the ground around Woolpit, quarries where bricks were made in the 19th century. But perhaps there was once something much older, for every Suffolk schoolchild knows that the name 'Woolpit' is nothing to do with wool, but with the wolves that once haunted the pits here...

 

Your first sight of St Mary will be Phipson's crazy spire, visible from miles away, and quite unlike anything else in East Anglia. Suffolk is a county where spires are rare enough anyway. From the far side of the Gipping valley you can see this one and two others, piercing the soft harvest mist in autumn. They are Phipson's equally absurd Great Finborough, and the 1990s blade of St Peter and St Mary, Stowmarket. There are only about a dozen more in the whole of the county. The excuse for this one was that the tower was struck by lightning in 1852, bringing down the previous lead and timber affair (presumably like the one at Hadleigh). The font is contemporary with the tower, suggesting that the old one was destroyed by the fall.

 

In the 1950s and 1960s, the artist John Piper produced a series of screen prints of aspects of Suffolk churches; for most, he used the fine perpendicular tower, ramifying it in bold Festival of Britain primary colours. But for Woolpit, he chose the porch, because it is Suffolk's finest. Cautley thought it the best in all England. It is two-storey, 15th century, contemporary with the nave. Mortlock tells us that they were both built by wealthy Bury Abbey, who owned the living here. As at Beccles, it rises way above the south aisle, tower-like in itself.

 

A rood group of niches surmounts the shields of East Anglia above the door. More flank them. Mortlock says that the work began in the early 1430s, and the niches were filled by a bequest of 1473, suggesting that the porch was forty years in the making. The south aisle and chancel are slightly earlier, the north aisle slightly later, so it is the nave that promises us great things, and doesn't disappoint.

 

You step into cool darkness, and look up. It is breathtaking. This is Suffolk's most perfectly restored angel hammerbeam roof. It may not have the drama of Mildenhall, the exquisiteness of Blythburgh, the sheer mathematics of Needham Market, but it shows us in detail more than any other what the medieval imagination was aiming at, the summa cum laude of the genre. From the still, small silence of the church floor below, you look up into a great shout of praise. Here are hundreds of figures, both angelic and human. The profusion is ordered, as if some mighty hymn were in progress.

 

Perhaps it is a representation of the Te Deum Laudamus: We praise thee, O God, we acknowledge thee to be the Lord... To thee all Angels cry aloud, the Heavens, and all the Powers therein. To thee Cherubim and Seraphim continually do cry Holy Holy Holy Lord God of Sabaoth... The glorious company of the Apostles praise thee, the goodly fellowship of the Prophets praise thee, the noble army of Martyrs praise thee...

 

The wallposts contain Saints, some with apostolic symbols, some with books, and some with martyr's palms. There are angels on the hammerbeams above, and bearing symbols below. John Blatchly counted 128 angels alone. Some of the shields have letters on them. Are they an acrostic, as on the east chancel wall at Blythburgh? Do they indicate individual Saints? The great Henry Ringham completely restored this roof in 1862, but Mortlock thinks that one of the angels is not his, and I agree - you'll find it in the south west corner.

 

Henry Ringham also restored the range of bench ends, by duplicating some of the medieval ones, as he did at Great Bealings and Tuddenham St Martin. All are rendered with his customary skill. If Ringham did restore this roof, then the imagery must have been destroyed at some point. One instinctively thinks of William Dowsing, the Puritan inspector of the churches of Cambridgeshire and Suffolk, who progressed across the counties during the course of 1644. His naked delight in the destruction of angel roofs was matched only by that at the destruction of stained glass.

 

And Dowsing did visit this church. He arrived here in the afternoon of February 29th 1644. It was a Thursday, and he had come here across country from Helmingham, where he had found much to do. He also planned to visit Beyton that day, but in the end stayed overnight at the Bull hotel, and inspected All Saints there in the morning. He then rested for the weekend - the following week, he had a busy tour of southern Cambridgeshire ahead of him.

 

Dowsing records in great detail what he found to do at each church. In the case of Woolpit, the angel roof is the Dog That Didn't Bark: My Deputy. 80 superstitious pictures; some he brake down, and the rest he gave order to take down; and three crosses to be taken down in 20 days. 8s 6d. There are only two possible reasons why Dowsing doesn't mention the roof. Either he didn't notice it (extremely unlikely) or it had already been destroyed. This second option seems certain; mid-Suffolk was a strongly protestant area, and nearby Rougham, which clearly had a similar roof, was not visited by Dowsing, but was vandalised even more comprehensively than Woolpit. Most likely, the destruction at both churches dated from a hundred years earlier than Dowsing's visit, although it is possible that the Rougham and Woolpit congregations had been puritan enough in the 1630s to do it to their own churches themselves.

 

Beneath the roof, the church is broad, its two aisles giving room for the panoply of medieval liturgical processions. At the east end of the south aisle was once the shrine of Our Lady of Woolpit, a site of medieval pilgrimage in connection with a nearby holy well. Apart from the front rows, many of the benches appear to be in their original positions. Some of the bench ends are 15th century, others are Ringham's 19th century copies. I wandered around the medieval bench ends, running my hands over them, crouching down and engaging them, face to face. For anyone educated in a Marxist or Weberian historical tradition, as most of my generation were, interpreting the less-obviously liturgical or theological features of a medieval church is fraught with difficulties. One possibility is to do a Cautley, and try not to interpret them at all. But it is more fun to try to do so, don't you think?

 

The bench ends of Woolpit are remarkable for their abundance. They are not representations of sacraments, virtues and vices as at Tannington and elsewhere, or Saints as at Ufford and Athelington. They are almost all non-allegorical animals, although not the art objects we find at Stowlangtoft, or the mysterious beasts of Lakenheath. Perhaps a good comparison is the similar body of work at nearby Combs. Indeed, although they do not appear to be from the same workshop, it is likely that their creators knew of each others' work. There are dogs, with geese hanging from their mouths, and another which may be a cat with a rat or lizard. There are lions and bears, and a chained monkey, and birds in profusion. So who did them, and why are they here?

 

There is one school of thought that says that they are simply there to beautify the church, and that they were made by local craftsmen doing what they were best at. If they could do lions, they did lions. If they could render a decent rabbit, then that is what they did. And so on.

 

But I think that there is rather more to it than that. On a recent journey down through France, I had spent an afternoon in one of my favourite towns, Autun, in Burgundy. One of the reasons I like Autun is its 11th century Cathedral of St-Lazaire; this is Lazurus, raised by Christ from the dead, and until the 18th century his relics were venerated at a shrine here. St-Lazaire is most famous for its great tympanum above the west door, generally recognised as one of the greatest Romanesque art treasures in the world, and with International Heritage status. It was created during the middle years of the 12th century, and shows the Last Judgement. To emphasise Christ's majesty over all the world, it features all manner of beasts, domestic, wild and mythical.

 

Throughout the Cathedral, animals infest the famous capitals, which tell the Gospel story. Abbe Denis Grivot, in his Un Bestiaire de la Cathedrale D'Autun (Lyon, 1973) argues that the 12th century creators of all this filled it with animals to echo the final verse of the 150th Psalm, the crowning point of that great sequence of hymns of praise: Let everything that hath breath praise the Lord!

 

Standing in the nave at Autun, I instantly recalledthe theory that the roof at Woolpit was intended as a representation of the Te Deum Laudamus. The Te Deum is one of the canticles; another is the Benedicite, traditionally sung through Lent: Oh all ye Works of the Lord, bless ye the Lord; praise him and magnify him for ever... O ye whales, and all that move in the Waters, bless ye the Lord... O all ye Fowls of the air, bless ye the Lord... O all ye beasts and Cattle, bless ye the Lord: praise him, and magnify him for ever! Could it be that the bench ends at Woolpit, and elsewhere in Suffolk, were intended to reflect and represent the praise defined in the canticles and psalms? Both would have been central to the liturgy of the medieval Catholic church. Perhaps the bench ends of Woolpit are liturgical and theological after all.

 

How would a carpenter, or group of carpenters, go about creating a set of benches like the ones at Woolpit? Who were they? Almost certainly, they were locals. They might have been itinerant jobbing carpenters, but I don't think so. The bench ends at adjacent Tostock are clearly by the same hand. But those at nearby Stowlangtoft and Norton are not, and a third hand seems to be responsible for those at Combs, as I previously mentioned. I do not think that the mutilated ones at Rougham and Elmswell are either; they were probably from the same workshop as each other.

 

So, we have a conscious attempt by skilled members of a community to create a hymn of praise in carved oak, by representing as many beasts as they felt capable of making. Where did they get their ideas from? They would have had no problems with oxen, cocks, conies - these were all around them, in their daily lives. The person who carved the hunting dog here was very familiar with it. Perhaps it was his own. What about monkeys and lions? These are more problematic. In medieval bestiaries, exotic creatures had fabulous legends attached to them, which gave them a theological symbolism.

 

But this symbolism doesn't usually seem intended when we see them on bench ends. Sometimes they are rendered accurately, but more often wild animals are fairly imaginary; I think particularly of Barningham's camel, and Hadleigh's wolf. It isn't enough to say that the carvers could have seen pictures of exotic beasts. This is fairly unlikely. Probably, the ordinary people of Woolpit never saw a book other than the missals, lectionaries and hagiographies used in church.

 

They might have seen pictures of lions and monkeys in wall paintings, either in other churches or here at Woolpit. They might have seen them carved in bench ends, for the same reason. In fact, the representation of wild animals varies so much as to suggest that this is not the case - compare, for example, the lions of Combs with those of Stowlangtoft. Probably, they were created in the imagination from descriptions and attributes in stories. But I think that there is a strong possibility that the woodcarvers of Woolpit did see lions and monkeys in real life.

 

In Catholic Southern Europe there are many remote small towns which, by virtue of being so very far from each other, take on a rich and complex life of their own. Even small villages have their shops, their craftsmen, their tradespeople; they replicate a situation that existed in Suffolk until well into the 19th century, and in some cases beyond, before the great industrialisation and easy transport swept it away. Further, there are traditions here still that we have lost. Whenever I come to rural southern Europe I am fascinated by the itinerant entertainers, who move from village to village, giving a single performance before moving on. This must also once have been true of England. The thing that fascinates me most is the multitude of small family circuses.

 

Many of them seem to be of Italian or Romany origin; all family members have multiple roles, from the oldest grandparent to the youngest child, selling tickets, doing acrobatics, being the straight men to the clown (who is typically Grandpa). They all put up the tent before the performance, and take it down afterwards. They move on, through the remote hills of Provence and the Languedoc, performing on village greens, wastegrounds, the corners of fields, even traffic islands.

 

Performing animals are still often chosen for their curiosity value, if you can call running around in a circle to the crack of a whip 'performing', poor things. The choices are strange indeed; camels and zebras often feature; I have seen an old bear on a chain, and at one circus in remote Languedoc a hippopotamus of all things - it caught bread thrown by the crowd. There was no safety fence between the seats and the ring, no Health and Safety Executive to penetrate these lost valleys. I do not know if such circuses existed in medieval Suffolk. But I think that they probably did. Suffolk is a maritime county, and exotic animals were widely known and exhibited in medieval Europe. Before the Protestant Reformation cut us of from the mainland, clerics and merchants thought of themselves as European, and travelled widely - English sovereignty was a hazy concept at best, and 'Britishness' was still centuries away from being formulated as an idea. People owed allegiance to their husband or wife, their village, their parish, and their lord, not to the Crown and Parliament in London.

 

Were the woodcarvers of Woolpit and Tostock remembering this? A circus visit, perhaps back in their childhood? Exotic animals rendered inaccurately, to be sure, but with an enthusiastic nostalgia for that exciting moment in their lives? Was there a lion? A monkey, or a bear? How much more powerful if they also knew the fabulous legends about the beasts - and had seen them in real life!

 

Some of the carvings at Woolpit are allegorical. One shows a monkey dressed in monk's robes. This, I think, is a joke at the expense of the itinerant friars who went from parish to parish, preaching repentance in the streets. They were sanctioned by the Pope, but were beyond the jurisdiction of the local Bishop. They didn't always go down well with the local Priest and congregation, who considered the Friars nosey and hypocritical. A monkey is often a symbol of foolish vanity - hence, a Friar thinking he was better than anyone else. What better way to make the point than to slip him in as one of the creatures praising the Lord?

 

How did they survive? But why should they have been destroyed? We make the mistake of thinking of the Puritans as vandals. But the more you read about William Dowsing, the more he emerges as being a principled, conservative kind of chap, despite his fundamentalist theological opinions. He had no reason to destroy animal bench ends. They weren't superstitious - even Dowsing didn't think Catholics worshipped animals. If he didn't think they were meant to represent the canticles, he wouldn't even have considered them religious. Amen to that.

 

So much for the 17th century. What about the 19th? St Mary is one of the most enthusiastically restored of Suffolk's churches, despite its surviving medieval detail. But it was done well. Mortlock thought that the 19th century pulpit was the work of Ringham - but the brass lectern is pre-Reformation, a fine example. The rood screen dado panels have sentimental 19th century Saints on them, that may or may not duplicate what was there before. They are actually very good, particularly the gorgeous Mary of Magdala. They have their names painted on the cross beams for the less hagiologically articulate Victorians - from left to right across the aisle they are Saints Barbara, Felix, Mary of Magdala, Peter, Paul, Mary, Edmund and Etheldreda. It is unlikely that Saint Felix would have been on a medieval roodscreen, and Mary almost certainly wasn't - it would have relegated her to a position of no more importance than the others. If it reflects anything of what was there before, it was probably St Anne with the infant Virgin.

 

The top part of the screen was renewed in 1750, and dated so. The gates are probably a Laudian imposition of 120 years earlier, as at Kedington. This may suggest that, by the time of Dowsing's visit, the chancel was being used for some other practical purpose. Above, high above, set in the east nave wall over the chancel arch, is one of the weirdest objects I've seen in a medieval church. It was installed in the 1870s, and is clearly meant to echo the coving of a rood loft. Goodness knows what it actually is, but it is painted in garish colours, and inscribed with texts. In one of those moments where Cautley and credibility part company, he describes anyone who doesn't think it is a genuine medieval canopy of honour as 'stupid'. I suppose that it has a certain curiosity value.

 

The three-light window above it would have given light to the rood. The east window contains one of Suffolk's best modern Madonna and child images which was made by the artist Ian Keen for the King workshop in the early 1960s. Ian Keen was also responsible for the beautiful St Margaret in St Margaret's church in Norwich, and for the memorable window of St Francis with a labrador at Somerleyton near Lowestoft.

 

I turned back westwards, past a superb medieval bench end of the three Marys. This is a delight, and you'd travel to London to see it if it was in the V&A. Mary the mother of Jesus, Mary the mother of James and Mary of Magdala huddle together, perhaps on the morning of the Resurrection. One of them has a lily of the Annunciation. One head is destroyed - but was it vandalised? Or is it the result of carelessness, the wear and tear of the centuries? Would 17th century puritans have destroyed it if they'd seen it?

Dowsing rarely mentions bench ends, so perhaps few were left by then anyway. So how could it possibly have survived the violent zeal of the 16th century Protestants, battering the Church of England into existence with their axes, pikes and bonfires? How, even after the 1547 edict which ordered the destruction of all statues and images of Saints, especially those of the Blessed Virgin Mary, is it still there at all?

Company E, 13th Kentucky Infantry

Independence Daily Reporter, Monday, November 29, 1915:

     

DEATH CALLS E. P. ALLEN

Prominent Banker Dies Suddenly Saturday Evening

 

SICK ONLY FEW DAYS

 

An Old Resident of County and Prominent in Business Life Over 40 Years

     

Tribute of Respect

 

Mr. Editor: I deem it indeed a privilege, as your request, to pay a tribute to our common friend, Edward P. Allen, with whom I have been daily associated for so long a time.

 

It is not my purpose to pronounce an extended eulogy upon the character, life and services of the man whose death we so profoundly regret. No words of praise, no arch of victory, no monumental pile is needed to endear him to the people of his time. The story of his useful and honorable career illumines our brightest ideals of success and the well-earned fruits of his incessant labors give luster to his name and worth and will perpetuate his memory.

 

Mr. Allen was a man of activity and industry unsurpassed in public, professional or private life. The secret of his success lay in willing work and tireless toil. In the councils of his fellowmen, he earned and kept the leading part. He easily became a distinguished figure in his county’s history. Alike above corruption and suspicion, he bore himself with that dignity and uprightness which command attention and respect. The shafts of malice and of envy fell idle against his impenetrable armor. Sincere in his convictions, he despised shams, false pretenses and hypocritical professions. He thought for himself and spoke what he thought. He was loyal to his own convictions. Friendship could not swerve him from the path of duty. Enemies did not daunt him. He was an open, honorable, manly foe; he knew his enemies—his enemies knew him; yet he was a loyal, true and constant friend.

 

Mr. Allen was a marked financial success – the sole architect of his own fortune. Yet to his beloved wife and family he has left more than his splendid estate—he has left them with a legacy, greater, better and grander far than any earthly treasure—the legacy of a good name, a reputation untarnished, an integrity unimpaired. R. S. Litchfield.

     

E. P. Allen, one of the oldest residents and most highly respected citizens of this city, who has for more that forty years been identified with the business, official and social life of this community, suddenly passed away at his home, 301 South Fourth street, Saturday evening at 5:00 o’clock.

 

White it has been apparent the past few months to Mr. Allen’s intimate friends that his health was failing it was not until a week ago when he was suddenly attacked with what was considered acute indigestion at his office in the First National Bank that any symptoms of a sudden breakdown were apparent. Even though at this time his suffering was intense and there was some evidence of something more serious than indigestion, he rallied from the effects of the attack after he was taken to his home, and during the last week he became so much better that on Saturday he told President Litchfield of the bank that he would be found in his accustomed place at the bank Monday morning. He seemed very much better Saturday. A few minutes before he died he stepped out onto the porch. On returning to the room where his wife and his sister, Mrs. Ella M. Reed, were sitting, he sank down in to a chair and his head suddenly dropped forward. Mrs. Allen spoke to him and hastened to his side. He made no answer, the power of speech was gone forever. In the twinkling of an eye the last spark of life has gone out from the body of this active man, after an eventful career, marked by patient test, pronounced achievement and exemplary performance of all the duties of life, as citizen, husband, father, and friend.

 

Edward Payson Allen was born in Green county, Ky., January 3, 1843, and at the time of his death was 72 years, 10 months and 24 days old. He was the son of William B and Huldah (Wilcox) Allen. The Allens came orginally from the north of Ireland; they emigrated from the old country about 1630, and finally settled in Rockridge county, Va., establishing the American branch of the family. Edward’s great grandfather, John Allen, and his oldest parental great uncle, Robert Allen, were soldiers in the Revolutionary war, and at the close of the struggle for American Independence left Virginia, crossed the mountains and became pioneers of Kentucky. David Allen, grandfather of the deceased, settled in Kentucky in 1784. During the war of 1812 he served in the American army against England. Mr. Allen’s father, William B., was a native of Kentucky and by profession a lawyer, and for many years successfully practiced law at Greensburg, Ky., where he pasted his life. He was a Royal Arch Mason and was once a Grand Master of the grand lodge of Kentucky. Huldah Wilcox, Edward’s mother, was a descendant of old Puritan stock. She was born in Kentucky and was the mother of six children who reached maturity.

 

Mr. Allen obtained a good, practical education in the private schools of Greensburg, Ky., which he attended until 18 years old, when, although a lad he responded to the call for volunteers at the beginning of the Civil war and enlisted in the Thirteenth Kentucky Infantry, Company E, as first sergeant. The regiment saw its first service in Kentucky and participated in the battles of Mill Springs, Shiloh, Perryville, Stone River and many minor engagements and skirmishes.

 

Mr. Allen was promoted three months after his enlistment to lieutenant and was discharged as such at Louisville, Ky., at the expiration of three years. Soon after the close of the war he was engaged in the mercantile business at Matoon, Illinois, where he remained until 1867. That year he returned to Greenburg, Ky., where he conducted a store for two years and then returned to Matoon, Illinois, from which place he started overland on his journey to Kansas, as there were few railroads west of the Mississippi, arriving in this county with his wife and oldest child in 1870. On October 16 of that year he took up a claim near Clear creek, in section 31-33-16, where as a farmer he began his career in Kansas. On this claim he built a rude house which still stands. He experienced all the trials and hardships of the early pioneer farmers.

 

In 1873 he located in Independence and accepted a clerkship in one of the stores and was connected with the mercantile establishments of the city until October 5, 1877, when he was nominated for register of deeds on the Democratic ticket and notwithstanding that his political party was in the minority the following month he was elected by several hundred majority. Mr. Allen’s personal popularity won him this election and a re-election in 1879. His four years service in this office was marked by efficiency and a faithful performance of duty, and he retired with credit in 1882.

 

Then for two years he engaged in the insurance and brokerage business. In 1885 he became a director of the First National Bank, and the following year he bought the interest of the cashier of the institution. The management reorganized and Mr. Allen was the unanimous choice for president. He served as the efficient executive of the bank until 1905, when he resigned the presidency but remained on the board of directors. For nearly a score of years Mr. Allen served as president of the bank, and largely due to his conservative, comprehensive business methods is the solid foundation on which rests this big banking institution which is today one of the largest and most substantial banks in the state. Mr. Allen was succeeded by R. S. Litchfield as president of the bank but he never lost his keen interest in its welfare and it was a source of considerable satisfaction to hem when he saw the bank’s business expand and grow, year after year, the deposits of less than $100,000 when he assumed personal management growing to more than $2,500,000.

 

In addition to his banking business in this city Mr. Allen was vice president of the Caney Valley National bank of Caney, Kan., and a director of the Home National bank of Longton, Kan. He also invested largely in good farm land and had other commercial interests of a sound character.

 

E. P. Allen’s death will be deeply deplored in Masonic circles where his activities have evoked countless testimonials to his splendid character and his devotion to fraternal duty. He was past master of Fortitude Lodge No. 107, A. F. & M., past high priest of Keystone Chapter No. 22, Royal Arch Masons, and had officiated for a quarter of a century as recorder of St. Bernard Commandery No. 10, Knights Templar, of which he was past eminent commander.

 

Mr. Allen was to have presided tonight at a meeting of matrons and patrons of Eva Chapter No. 18, Order of Eastern Star, of which he was worthy patron.

 

On May 2, 1865, Mr. Allen was united in marriage with Mary F. Vansant, in Cole county, Illinois, and the happily united couple this year celebrated their golden wedding, surrounded by their family and intimate friends. Mr. Allen is survived by his wife and four daughters; Mrs. James F. Blackledge of Caney, Mrs. R. W. Cates of this city, Mrs. H. H. Kahn of Coffeyville, and Mrs. Glen H. Amsbury of Longton, and two sisters, Mrs. Ella M. Reed of Rock Island, Illinois, and Mrs. C. B. Johnson of Louisville, Kentucky. The former was a guest at his home when the last sad summons came so suddenly. He had ten grandchildren, in whom he took a great interest and a pardonable pride.

 

Mr. Allen was in the largest sense a self made man. He forged ahead by his own ability and determination and held an enviable position in popular esteem and respect. He was an affable gentleman and an interesting companion. A man of sound judgment and clear thinking his advice was largely sought and his opinion on a business proposition high valued. As a soldier his services to his country were early recognized by promotion; as a pioneer he met the vicissitudes of frontier life with courage and fortitude and contributed his share to laying the foundation for the great social and civic structure that is now the pride of the people of this section; as a public official he was accommodating and served the people in a manner that he retired with their confidence and esteem; as the successful businessman and banker he was the same plain, straightforward man and honest citizen and pleasant gentleman, performing the larger duties that came with wealth and station with that high regard for right and justice and clear comprehension of essentials and details and fidelity to trust that marked his whole career. He achieved success by frugality, economy and wise investment. His intimate friends have heard him relate how he always managed to live with his income and save a little when he was living on a salary of $35 a month. It was no accidental turn in the wheel of fortune that brought him business success but the result of industrious effort, economy and a strict adherence to sound business principles and upright and honorable living. He gave freely of his time and means to promote these things he believed of benefit to society.

 

His death came as a great shock to his family and the community. For more than forty years he has mingled daily with the people of this community in the business circles, society and the lodge and church, being an active and influential member of the Presbyterian church of this city. He has left an honored name and an example that young men starting out in life can study with profit and emulate with advantage.

 

The funeral will take place from the family residence at 301 South Fourth street at 2 o’clock Tuesday afternoon. The services will be in charge of ST. Bernard Commandary, Knights Templar. The funeral address will by made by Dr. S. S. Katey of Topeka, former pastor of the Presbyterian church of this city. All friends are invited.

 

The body will lie in state at the family residence from 10 to 12 o’clock Tuesday and all who desire to do so can call during those hours and view the remains.

   

The Evening Star, Monday, November 29, 1915, Pg. 1:

   

THE HAND OF DEATH SUDDENLY FALLS UPON E. P. ALLEN, VETERAN BANKER AND PIONEER CITIZEN

 

End Came Saturday Evening Following a Brief Illness

WAS THOUGHT TO BE CONVALESCING—CAME TO MONTGOMERY COUNTY IN 1870 AND SETTLED ON CLAIM—PROMINENT CHURCH MAN, INFLUENTIAL MASON AND ONE OF COUNTY’S ABLEST FINANCIERS.

   

E. P. Allen, vice president of the First National Bank, and for 45 years an active and influential figure in the affairs of Independence and Montgomery county, died suddenly about 5 o’clock Saturday evening at the family residence, 301 South Fourth street. His death was wholly unexpected and was a shock to the entire city. The happy Saturday night crowds were saddened by the intelligence as it filtered through various channels to the public, for Mr. Allen was a genial, modest, neighborly gentleman who was a friend t6o all, and who, in the 45 years of his identification with Montgomery county affairs, had been the personal adviser and helper of thousands.

 

Mr. Allen, a week ago Saturday, while at work at his bank, was stricken with an attack of indigestion. He was subject to such attacks and had apparently rallied, so that no particular uneasiness was felt by his family. Saturday afternoon he had been up and about the house and yard. A few minutes before his death he had picked up a newspaper and gone to the porch. After a few minutes outside he came into the house, sat down, gasped a few times and died. Mrs. Ella Reed, his sister, saw that the was desperately ill and summoned Dr. J. T. Davis, but although the doctor was close at hand and promptly responded the veteran baker was beyond earthly aid when he arrived. R. S. Litchfield, president of the First National Bank, and long time associate in business of Mr. Allen, also reached the side of his comrade soon after the alarm was sent out, but too late to see him alive.

 

Mr. Allen is survived by his wife and four daughters, Mrs. J. F. Blackledge of Caney, Mrs. R. W. Cates of this city, Mrs. H. H. Kahn of Coffeyville, and Mrs. Glen Amabury of Longton, Kas., and a sister, Mrs. Ella Reed of Rock Island, Ill.

 

The deceased had long been a pillar of the Presbyterian church, an influential figure in politics, one of the strongest financial figures in the county, and a very prominent member of the Masonic order. He was born in Green county, KY., January 3, 1843, the son of Attorney and Mrs. William B. Allen, also natives of Kentucky. Mr. Allen gained an education in the schools of Greenburg, Ky., and when the war between the north and the south came on he listed in 1861 in Company E, Thirteenth Kentucky Infantry, as first sergeant. He rose to the rank of lieutenant and served three years in the army, being in many notable battles. It has given him great pleasure in later years to foregather with the old boys who wore the blue and recount the bitter struggles of that period.

 

After the close of the war Mr. Allen went to Mattoon, Ill., and engaged in the mercantile business, but soon became infected with the Kansas fever and came to this state Oct. 16, 1870. He located in Montgomery county and settled upon a claim on Clear creek, which he farmed for two years, abandoning farming to take up the mercantile business in Independence, then a frontier trading post. In 1877 he was elected register of deeds on the democratic ticket, for though he had fought for the union he was always a stanch adherent of the principle of the democratic party. He drew a heavy vote outside of party lines, however, and so efficiently did he serve that he was re-elected in 1879. Leaving the office at the end of his second term Mr. Allen took advantage of the extensive acquaintance he had formed to embark in the insurance and loan business, and that brought him into contact with the officers of the First National Bank, whose stockholders made him a director in 1885. The next year they made him president and for seventeen years he piloted that institution through good times and bad, by his strength of character, probity and business sagacity, adding to the strength of the banking house. Feeling the need for a lightening of the burdens bearing upon his shoulders Mr. Allen in 1904 sold a controlling interest in the bank to Royal S. Litchfield of New York, who had been attracted to Independence because of its relation to the oil field and its promise as an industrial and financial center. Mr. Allen, however, continued as a director of the bank and was in harness almost to the day of his death. He had the pleasure of seeing the deposits of the institution rise from the modest trust of a country bank to more than two and a half million dollars.

 

As heretofore stated Mr. Allen was prominently identified with the Masonic order, and was to have presided as past patron at a special meeting of the Order of the Eastern Star at the Masonic temple this evening. He was past master of Fortitude Lodge No. 107, A. F. & A. M., past high priest of Keystone chapter, No. 22, Royal Arch Masons, and had officiated for a quarter of a century as recorder of St. Bernard commandery, No. 10, Knights Templar.

 

The deceased has always been in the forefront of every moment calculated to advance the interests of the community, morally or financially, and though always unassuming no man’s counsel was more highly valued. For many years he was an officer of the Presbyterian church; there, too, he was a stanch and true adviser and worker.

 

In addition to the First National Bank, he was interested in a bank at Caney and had other large financial interests, as well as one of the best farms in the Verdigris bottoms. At heart Mr. Allen was a good deal of a farmer and this Verdigris valley land was a source of pride and pleasure. Though an able and successful business man Mr. Allen was essentially domestic in his tastes and noting gave him greater pleasure than the annual gatherings of his children and grandchildren under the family roof tree.

 

To those who will know his cheering presence no more in this life the sincere sympathy of the community, county wide, is extended.

 

The funeral will be held tomorrow afternoon from the Allen residence, 301 South Fourth street, under the auspices of the Knights Templar and Grand Army of the Republic, with Rev. S. S. Estey, of Topeka, in charge of the services.

 

Contributed by Mrs. Maryann Johnson a Civil war researcher and a volunteer in the Kansas Room of the Independence Public Library, Independence, Kansas.

 

A Standard History of Kansas and Kansans, written and compiled by William E. Connelley, Secretary of the Kansas State Historical Society, Topeka. Chicago: Lewis Publishing Company, copyright 1918; transcribed October, 1997.

 

EDWARD PAYSON ALLEN. One of the most conspicuous figures in the financial and civic life of Southern Kansas was removed with the death of Edward Payson Allen at his home in Independence, November 27, 1915. He had already passed the age of three score and ten and with many ripe achievements to his credit and with the honorable associations of a long and useful life he went to his reward. He was a Civil war veteran, a pioneer in Montgomery County, Kansas, had filled public offices and had long borne the responsibilities of managing one of the largest banks in the state.

 

His worthy ancestry no doubt was a contributing factor to his own life and character. His great-grandfather and another member of the family had fought as Revolutionary soldiers, in the struggle for independence. After the close of the war this great-grandfather and some of his brothers emigrated out of Virginia and established homes on the western frontier in Kentucky. The Allens were originally from the north of Ireland and had settled in Rockbridge County, Virginia, as early as 1630. David Allen, grandfather of the late Independence banker, was born in Rockbridge County, Virginia, October 16 1773, and went to Kentucky with his father about 1783. He served with the Kentucky troops in the War of 1812, and died in Green County, Kentucky, in 1816. Thus members of the Allen family participated in practically every war in which this nation has been engaged.

 

The father of Edward P. Allen was William B. Allen, who was born in Green County, Kentucky, in 1803 and spent his life at Greensburg, Kentucky. He was a lawyer by profession, being a graduate of a seminary at Nashville, Tennessee, and of a law school. He was very prominent in Masonry, at one time served as grand master of the grand lodge of Kentucky. William B. Allen married Huldah Wilcox. She was born in Massachusetts of Puritan ancestry. Her forefathers had settled in New England during the seventeenth century. Her father Eli Wilcox possessed all the sturdy traits of the typical New Englander. William B. Allen and wife had the following children: Martha; Jennie, who married A. B. Nibbs; Harriet B., who married John Cunningham of Coles County, Illinois; Edward P.; Mary, who married William Hunter; and Ella M., who is the only one of the children still living and is the widow of George W. Reed, her home being at Rock Island, Illinois.

 

Edward Payson Allen was born in Green County, Kentucky, January 3, 1843. He received all the advantages of the schools at Greensburg, Kentucky, but at the age of eighteen in 1861 enlisted for service in the Union army as a member of Company E of the Thirteenth Kentucky Infantry, under Colonel Hobson. He was made first sergeant, and after three months was promoted to a lieutenancy, and bore that rank when he received his honorable discharge after three years at Louisville, Kentucky. He fought in some of the great campaigns of the war, was at Mills Springs, at Shiloh, Perryville, Stone River and many minor engagements and skirmishes. In later years he enjoyed the associations of his old comrades in the war and took a very prominent part in Grand Army affairs. After the war Mr. Allen went to Illinois and was engaged in merchandising at Mattoon until 1867. Then returning to his native town in Kentucky he opened a store and was in business there for two years following this he again went to Coles County, Illinois, and was a merchant at Mattoon until the fall of 1870. On the 16th of October of that year he arrived in Montgomery County, Kansas. This county was then on the frontier and the only activities to attract a man were homesteading and reclaiming a portion of the wilderness for farming purposes. He took a claim on Section 31, Township 33, Range 16, and long after he had attained a high position in financial affairs the little cabin he erected there was standing as a memorial of his days of poverty and hardship. He bore adversities unflinching and struggled for two years in order to make a living out of his land. In 1873 he gave up his farm and moved to the new Town of Independence, where he again resumed the business which was more to his liking, merchandising

 

Throughout his career Mr. Allen was a Kentucky democrat. He was always loyal to that party, and in Montgomery County his personal popularity always exceeded the party strength. In 1877 he was elected register of deeds of the county. It was a special tribute to his personality and ability since there were several hundred more republicans in the county than democrats. In 1879 he was re-elected and gave an administration which satisfied democrats and republicans alike. During these two terms he bore the burdens of the office almost alone, and set a standard of official performance that few of his successors have equaled. In the meantime he had acquired an extensive acquaintance over the county, and with this prestige he set up in the insurance and brokerage business with an office at the corner of Main and Sixth streets.

 

The late Mr. Allen was essentially a financier. He had the rare ability and judgment which make the true banker. He was conservative in temper, and was always strictly business, though a sympathetic personality always mingled with his financial transactions. He was first a patron and afterwards a stockholder in the First National Bank of Independence, and in 1885 was elected a director. In 1886 he bought the interests of the cashier of the bank and with the reorganization of the institution was elected its president, an office he filled with exceptional ability until June 1, 1904, a period of about eighteen years. In that time his judgment and ability were impressed upon the bank so as to make it one of the safest and most conservative institutions in Southern Kansas. In 1904 he sold a controlling interest to the late R. S. Litchfield; but continued as a director of the bank and looked after its loans and also his private interests until his death. During more than thirty years of connection with the institution he saw its deposits rise to more than $2,500,000.

 

His position as a banker and citizen is well summarized in the following brief quotation from a former publication: "The First National Bank of Independence was fortunate in having for eighteen years for its executive head a man of such wide and varied experience, of such unerring judgment and a gentleman of such popular personal traits as Mr. Allen. He came to Montgomery County almost with the earliest, and embodied in his career as a citizen here experience as a farmer, merchant, public official and financier, all of which stations he honored and in all of which he displayed a rational aptitude and adaptation, passing from one to another as a reward of industry and indicating the favor and confidence of his fellow citizens."

 

Mr. Allen was also interested in a bank at Caney and had extensive financial interests in other directions. He owned one of the best farms in the Verdigris bottoms, and took a great deal of pride and pleasure in the management of his farm lands. He was also identified with every movement calculated to advance the welfare of his community, was active in the Commercial Club, an officer and worker in the Presbyterian Church, and was one of the oldest and most prominent members of the Masonic order in Southern Kansas. He took his first degrees in Masonry in 1864, and was long associated with Fortitude Lodge No. 107, Ancient Free and Accepted Masons, at Independence, with Keystone Chapter No. 22, Royal Arch Masons, and for a quarter of a century was recorder of St. Bernard Commandery No. 10, Knights Templar. He was past patron of the Order of Eastern Star and a charter member of the Grand Army of the Republic. The Knights Templar and Grand Army of the Republic were both represented at his funeral, and as a tribute to his financial leadership all the banks of the city were closed on the afternoon of his burial.

 

On May 2, 1865, a little more than half a century before his death, Mr. Allen married Mary F. Vansant. Mr. Allen was always thoroughly a home man, and found his greatest pleasure with his wife and children and in the recurring annual occasions when both children and grandchildren gathered at his home. Mr. and Mrs. Allen were married in Coles County, Illinois. Mrs. Allen, who still occupies the fine old family home on South Fourth Street in Independence, was born August 27, 1846, in Fleming County, Kentucky. Her father, Isaiah Vansant, was born at Flemingsburg, Kentucky, December 9, 1815, and died there April 17, 1854. His business was that of farmer and stock man, he was a whig in politics, and an active member of the Presbyterian Church. Isaiah Vansant married Martha Jane Darnall, who was born in Flemingsburg, Kentucky, December 17, 1820, and died at Independence, Kansas, May 9, 1905. Mrs. Allen was the fourth among their five children, the others being: Cynthia, who resides at Hutchinson, Kansas, the wife of J. W. Brady, who is now retired and was formerly a bookkeeper and collector, and for many years connected with the banking institutions; Margaret, who died in Covington, Kentucky, was the wife of A. L. Scudder, who is an express messenger and lives at Covington; Amanda, who resides at Mrs. Allen's home in Independence; and Elizabeth, who died at Natick, Massachusetts, the wife of H. L. Balcom, a hardware merchant, who is also deceased.

 

Mrs. Allen's grandfather Aaron Vansant, was born in Pennsylvania, was reared and was married there to Margaret Keith, who was also a native of that state, and they settled early in Kentucky, where both of them died. The Vansants were originally from Holland and settled in Pennsylvania in colonial days. Mrs. Allen is a member of the Daughters of the American Revolution, and all her daughters belong to that order, the latter having acquired two bars in that organization, and when the records are complete they will have six bars. The daughters received admission through Francis Barrett on their father's side. Francis Barrett was a Revolutionary soldier, a native of Virginia, and served with the Virginia troops in the war. He was born in 1762, was a farmer after the war, a member of the Baptist Church, and died at Greensburg, Kentucky, July 6, 1833. Francis Barrett married Elizabeth Lowry, and they lived both in Virginia and Kentucky.

 

Mrs. Allen's Revolutionary ancestor was her great-great-grandfather Alexander Givens, who came from Ireland to America, served in the Revolution, and afterwards spent his remaining years in Nicholas County, Kentucky. Mrs. Allen's maternal grandfather was William Givens, a native of Pennsylvania, and a farmer in Fleming County, Kentucky, where he died in 1846. William Givens married Mary Shields.

 

Mrs. Allen's children and grandchildren are as follows: Mattie H. was graduated in the classical course from Oswego College, and is now the wife of James F. Blackledge, a banker at Caney, Kansas; their children are: Ralph, who died young; Pauline, wife of Dr. Fillis of Chicago, Illinois; Gwynne, in the automobile and electrical supply business at Caney; and Mercedes, a student in the high school at Caney. Edith the second daughter, graduated from Baird's School at Clinton, Missouri, with the degree A. B, and took post graduate work in the Kansas State University and is now the wife of R. W. Cates, who is cashier of the First National Bank of Independence, their children are Catherine and Allen, both attending school. Lillian, the third daughter, graduated from the Montgomery County High School and is now the wife of H. H. Kahn, an oil operator living at Coffeyville; their two children, both in school, are Irene and Margaret. Annie, the fourth and youngest daughter, graduated from the Montgomery County High School and married Glen Amesbury, who is a banker at Longton, Kansas they also have two children, George Allen and Clifton, both now in school.

 

Mrs. Allen besides her beautiful residence at 301 South Fourth Street owns several other improved properties and has two fine farms in Montgomery County.

POET'S CORNER

For the Free Press.

 

The following lines were written by a friend of mine, a few days previous to his death at Bermuda, whither he had gone for his health. He hoped that a sea voyage and a change of air might restore his system, wasting by that heedless destroyer, Consumption. But, no! his destiny was fixed, and bright genius and noble nature bowed submissively. They are breathed in a tone of sorrow, natural to a mind highly sensitive, when it muses on the early joys of youth, and sees before it the termination of all its hopes. Friend .J., please give them a corner in your Journal.

E.

  

TO MISS ******

 

Though the life-blood of health has abandoned my cheek,

And hope with her syren song fled from my view,

Yet disease only conquers this poor, faded form!

The heart's green affection it cannot subdue.

 

O'er the couch, as I slumbered, thy dear image stood,

Recalling the scenes when our loves were yet new,

And it smiled as I murmur'd thy name in my dream,

To hear how a dying heart still could be true.

 

Oh, why did my infant heart kindle to thine,

And fondly confide in a vision of bliss;

Oh, why was thou fated to cling to a frame,

So hopeless, so fragile, so transient as this?

 

But farewell thou loved one, who gave life its charm,

And cherished a flower now fading so fast;

This bosom, though sinking, glows warmer to thee,

As the lamp blazes brightest when gleaming its last.

  

Miscellaneous.

From the People's Platform.

THE PRESENT CONDITION OF THE

WORLD. – NO. 2.

 

By a reference to Great Britain it will be seen, and, it is hoped, felt that a nation may become strong in war, abound in men of science and scientific works, filled with all manner of labor-saving machinery, skilled in the science and practice of agriculture, and surfeited with money, and yet the great majority of those who do the labor be deprived of the elementary necessities of life, pure air, proper food and clothing, and their intellectual condition equally oppressed arid degraded.

In Great Britain, and in all other countries similarly circumstanced, capital has become the enemy of labor. Lightning and steam and machinery have been brought to operate against the very vitality of the laboring man's interests. Every new invention hitherto has had a tendency to sink him lower in the scale of being. True, this is unnatural. Every achievement of Genius, every new discovery in the science of mechanism and agriculture, every element that is subjugated and brought to labor for man should be hailed by the laborer as a sure friend, should be esteemed by him as a co-laborer, should have had a direct tendency to elevate his condition and equalize and harmonize the great family of man. But such has not been the case. Why? Because capital has been esteemed and honored more than labor. Money has been permitted to seize on every valuable invention. Let it not be forgotten, that every real good which man can appropriate is the price of the laborer's effort. Sunshine and rain, climate and soil, will neither feed nor clothe, nor in any way supply the necessities of man, without man's labor. Capital is mere dust, gold without value, machinery of all kinds is worth nothing without the workings of man's hands and man's fingers. Still the mere laborer – the individual, whether male or female, who has nothing but the ability and willingness to labor, is pointed, at the family board of the wealthy, in the sanctuaries of our religion and in all our halls of science and pleasure, to the lowest seat, where humility should sit and be content. These are truths which should be inscribed among the clustering flowers and on the clustering stars.

To this state of things society is fast tending in our own country. Over a beautiful and extensive section of our republic, the dark cloud of Slavery hangs like a death-pall under which the trickling blood of the laborer answers to the sounding lash of the robber of God and the usurper of man's most holy rights, and where the bursting heart of the robbed mother avails not to save the child from a most unnatural and life-long captivity. There innocence pleads in vain. Tears fall on hearts of adamant. Groans and the smothered wails of crushed hearts excite only the derisive laugh. There the silent eloquence, that most powerful pleader of suffering infancy, excites no sympathy, obtains no relief. They are the tears, the groans, the wailings, the eloquence, the pleadings, only of the LABORER! Why should they be heard? Why?

Under that dark and portentous cloud, which distils only tears and blood, and mutters incessant groans and unavailing prayers, Degradation – a chattel without Human Rights – is stamped in unmistakable characters on the brow of every laborer, whether white or black.

But what think ye? Are those who sit under this cloud, in high places, who, with piratical hand, have garnered around themselves the surplus of the laborer's toil, and who hold the scorpion lash, and extract the tears and the blood of the laborer, sinners above all others? – Nay, verily. When capital and machinery are arrayed against labor, there sin abounds.

It is not only in the South, where the iron links of the slave-chain are visible to the material eye and the clanking of the manacles fall harshly on the ear, but at the North also, where the profits of labor are filched from the laborer, without noise and without visible manifestations, that “they bind heavy burdens and grievous to be borne, and lay them on men's shoulders, but they themselves will not move them with one of their fingers.” – The present condition of the South is so evidently unnatural, that it needs but to be seen to be seen to be condemned. – Hence, eventually, it will work out its own cure. It needs no physician to feel the pulse and prescribe the cure. But at the North, the condition of the body politic may be truthfully likened to the “whitened sepulchers.” The outside is fair, the death-worm preys on the vitality. The disease, to be hated, must be bro't to light. The effects are being manifested, the cause lies deeply hidden.

Throughout the civilized world, and especially in our own country, the condition of the laboring class is truly this: The laborer is placed between two grades of paupers. On his right is situated the gilded pauper, who calls himself, and is called, rich-wealthy, and who demands of the laborer, as his especial right, the first fruits of the earth and the fatlings of all the flocks. On his left is situated the ragged, destitute, improvident, pauper, for the most part ignorant, filthy and degraded. For this class the laborer must build the poor house, the hospital and the asylum, provide the coarse nourishment and covering, do all the labor, and pay the keepers and officers. For the first class of paupers the laborer builds splendid mansions, with spacious airy rooms, furnishes them with the most costly furniture, velvet-covered sofas and ottomans, loads their tables with the world's choicest luxuries, fills their cellars with the grape's most mellow juice, affords them luxurious carriages, and rears for their particular benefit the high-blooded and glossy steed. Attired by the laborer with the finest clothing that ingenuity can fabricate, and waited upon, even to dressing their persons and holding their horses, by the daughters and sons of toil, – this class of paupers are placed at their ease, and have every opportunity for polishing their manners and informing their minds, or by speculation, party politics, and usury, to increase his facilities of controlling the muscles and hands of the laborer. The other class of paupers demand nothing, or if they do, they get but little. A poor-house and rags and coarse fare, are their portion. They have neither power nor influence. They are charity's poor. And yet they are the legitimate children of the rich pauper, who, like a parasite, robs the heart of society of life. Great wealth cannot exist at one end of society without producing heart-smitten and starved poverty at the other. A daguerreotype of the world, without coloring or falsities, presents this picture – two distinct classes of paupers, and the working class between them, to provide for and feed them both. On the laborer's broad shoulders rest the world's hope and the world's destiny.

But right manfully has he sustained the burden. Throughout the length and breadth of our country, the forest melts away from his presence, cultivated fields spring up around him. He improves the country and builds the city. He creates all the wealth. Without him there would be no canals, railroads, no internal nor external improvements. He builds up the State-House, and, hard by it, the prison-house. He has chequered our country all over with poor-houses and asylums, those living witnesses of a nation's misgovernment and disgrace. He has created all our costly cushioned churches, and clothes & feeds all our preachers. He equips, and warms, & nourishes all our soldiers, and sends them out to do the murderer's dark deeds, in the name of war. He builds up the palace, and makes the soft couch for the titled warrior, and circles his hard brow with war's bloody wreath. He sends forth the missionary of the cross to tell a lost and perishing world of a Christ crucified to redeem and save. Labor not only ‘conquers all things,’ but labor accomplishes all things. In our country, onward and westward has been the march of the laborer, transforming the wilderness into cultivated fields, and, like the keen scented blood-hound, the speculator has followed his tracks like a vampire, to darken his sky and blight his hopes, and everywhere around the speculator cluster abject want and robbed industry.

Such is the true condition of our country. Throughout its length and breadth labor is dishonored, wealth flattered and caressed. The consequence is that every body seeks to be wealthy. Mammon is our God, and our country is becoming a great arena of speculating gladiators, and misery and wretchedness and want are every day increasing.

Where rests the fault? Not solely with the wealthy – the speculator – the successful robber, or the more unholy usurer. But the whole body politic if fearfully diseased, the great heart of humanity beats with misdirected pulsations, and its vital members are fevered, bruised and bleeding. Where is the remedy? Let us enquire.

THEODOSIUS.

  

DIABOLICAL OUTRAGE.

 

The following account from the Lebanon (Warren Co.) Star, should cause the face of every white man in Ohio to tingle with shame. It shows that the diabolical spirit of slavery and the murderous malignity of caste are yet rife in at least one of the Counties of the State.

A riot occurred at Morrow on Saturday evening, which will probably give some trouble to the parties engaged in it. A theft was committed by a colored man named Henry Wadkins – a convict formerly in the Penitentiary, who was immediately arrested and committed to jail. This aroused the indignation of sundry persons in the village, who met on Friday and resolved that every negro should leave the place in one week thereafter. Notice was accordingly given, and on Saturday, as we understand, all had left with the exception of two, Charles Casey, and his wife, who had been assured that they would be suffered to remain. The ardor of the mob – for such we must characterize every body of men who set the laws of the country at defiance and meditate and commit violence on the persons and property of others – was quickened by their wrath, and on Saturday night they changed the time of the exodus of the Casey family and demanded that they should gird up their loins, put on their sandals and march forthwith. Casey refused to obey. At ten o'clock they approached the dwelling of the latter, and commenced an assault with stones and clubs. Casey took a position at the door, armed with an axe, and his wife guarded the window, club in hand. Soon the window was smashed in and a breach made through the door by the missiles of the assailants. An entry was then attempted by one of the mob, but the moment his head protruded through the door, Casey tapped him with the back of the axe, and he fell senseless to the ground. Instantly another mob-head was poked in and met a similar blizzard. These repeated and effectual rebuffs brought the mob to a parley. Terms of accommodation were proposed, which resulted in giving Casey & his wife five minutes start, to make their escape. They ‘closed in the overtures of mercy,’ thus graciously offered! The watch was held up. At a single bound, Casey and his wife leaped out of the house, followed by a shower of stones. – Fear gave suppleness to their limbs, and away they went up the road like deer pursued by a pack of wolves. As soon as the time was out, the mob started in pursuit, vengeful and eager for the prey. But, fortunately, they were led on a false trail. Instead of continuing on the Hopkinsville road, as it was supposed they would, the blacks left the road, waded the Miami, and found a sure refuge in the cornfields. The fight lasted some three hours, during which, Casey and wife defended themselves with a bravery and nerve worthy the highest commendation. Their only sin, so far as we can learn, was that God had given them a black skin! They were Africans! What an offence to justify a riot and expulsion from the town! We are told that every article of furniture in the house was destroyed, and sixteen dollars in money stolen! The matter will, of course, undergo a legal investigation, and we therefore forbear any further comments.

  

SMITH, THE RAZOR-STROP MAN.

A SPECIMEN OF HIS LOGIC.

 

Everybody, from Nova Scocia to Texas, from Cape Cod to the great city of St. Louis, and perhaps along the “far west” to California, knows the “Razor strop man.” Well, here he is, to that life. – Some editor, without telling his whereabouts, (for we find it in an exchange paper without credit,) reports the following “speech,” as obtained at a private interview. “We,” editor of the Watchman, have, oft and again, seen the “Razor strop man,” shook hands with him, conversed, heard his own story in private, and his cutting, witty speeches in public, and attest the following to be genuine – “no counterfeit.”

We have heard from him these same pithy remarks, and can assure our temperance friends, “there are a few more of the same sort left.” Here it is. – Western Watchman.

“Some folks say that it is right to drink alcohol, because it is a good creature of God. Well, grant that it is; so is castor oil and so is vinegar a good creature of God, but is that a sufficient reason for a person to drink it three, four, or a dozen times a day? A dog is a good creature of God; but suppose a dog gets mad, and bites a man or a woman, would you let him alone, because, as you say, he was a good creature! Would you be satisfied with cutting off his ear or his tail ; or would you knock him on the head, and pitch him headlong into the street. Now, alcohol is worse than a mad dog, for a bite from a mad dog only destroys life, while a bite from alchy destroys reason, reputation, life, and everything else, besides dragging down the family of the bitten man to poverty and want.

But alchy doesn’t bite a mouthful at first. When he first snapped at me, he only tickled me a little. I liked it first-rate, and was anxious to get another, and still another bite. The old rascal of a tyrant kept nibbling away at my heels, as though he didn’t mean to harm me; while I, like a poor fool, kept coaxing him on, until at last he gave me a “snap”, in earnest, and took the elbows right out of my coat! Next, he took the crown out of my hat, the shoes off my feet, the money out of my pocket, and the sense out of my head, until at last I went raving mad through the streets, perfectly a victim to alciphobia. But I signed the pledge and got cured ; and if there is any man who has been bitten as I was, let him take this teetotal medicine, and I'll warrant him a speedy cure.

But allowing that alcohol is a good creature of God, are there not other good creatures too, such as beef, pork, puddings, pies, clothes, dollars of ‘the same sort?’ Now, shall a man cling to the one good creature, and leave the ninety and nine untouched? Shall a man drink whiskey because it is a good creature of God, and go without good food, a good home, a good hat, a good fat wallet, a good handsome wife, and good, well-dressed children? No sir-ree! As for me, give me good beef and pudding, good pork and sausage, good friends, a good bed, good clothes, a good wife, and good children, (or bad, rather than miss, and I'll try to make ‘em good,) and old king alchy may go to Texas, for all I care.

Some say that wine is a ‘good creature,’ because our Savior once turned water into wine. Very good! but then he didn’t turn rum, gin whisky, logwood, coculus-indicus and cockroaches into wine, like some people do. He turned water into wine. Now, if any wine-bibbing apologist will take a gallon or a barrel of pure water, and by praying over it, or in any other way, will turn it into good wine, without mixing any other stuff with it, I'm the boy as will go in for a swig of it! Such wine must be good, and I go in for that kind, and nothing else. But as for your nasty, filthy, drunken stuff, which is sold in your grog-shops, it's a base counterfeit, and it's a blasphemous libel on our blessed Savior to liken it to the pure beverage he made.

Now, you, such as prefer one good creature of God's to all the rest, go and drink rum or whisky until you get picked as bare as a sheep's back, after it has crawled through a briar patch; but you as prefer the ninety and nine good creatures. go right straight and sign the pledge. Thousands have been saved by putting their names to that precious document, and still is there room for a ‘few more of the same sort.’”

  

HUNGARIAN WOMAN.

 

The world is paying tribute to the heroic character of the Hungarian women. One who knows them says that they have no fading moonlight countenances, blanched by privations and sorrow – on weary cheeks, lit up with the paroxysm of despair – no polished marble, with its cold, repulsive indifference – no figure of the drawing room, tortured into shape by some heathen milliner. There is a wild, daring, piercing beauty about these women, sprung from Caucasian mountains, by the side of which, your soft, blue-eyed, flaxen-haired, Saxon maid looks like a faint lithograph by the side of Correggio's incarnation.

 

There are three sights most detestable – a proud priest, giving his blessing, a knavish hypocrite saying his prayers, and a false patriot making a harangue.

 

If you are for pleasure – marry! If you prize rosy health – Marry! And even if money be your object – marry!

 

Why are all the ladies in favor of “Old Bullion?” Simon (the rascal) says it's because they're all “Bent-on-men.”

 

Retiring postmaster are all said to have the Collamer morbus.

  

THE LAW OF NEWSPAPERS,

 

For the benefit of ourselves, and some of our subscribers, who appear to have very imperfect notions of their responsibilities to newspaper publishers, we give below some of the common law principles of newspaper obligations, which our courts have established:

1. Subscribers who do not give express notice to the contrary, are considered as wishing to continue their subscriptions, and are legally responsible for the same.

2. If subscribers order the discontinuance of their papers, the publisher may continue to send them until all arrearages are paid.

3. If subscribers neglect or refuse to take their papers from the office to which they are directed, they are held responsible until they have settled the bill and ordered them discontinued.

4. If subscribers remove to other places without informing the publishers, and the papers are sent to the former direction, they are held responsible.

5. When newspapers are not taken from the post office, it is the duty of the postmaster to inform the subscribers of the same, and in default of doing so he is subject to reprimand or removal, from the head of the department.

6. Subscribers can have their papers stopped by paying up the arrearages, and directing the post master to order its discontinuance, or doing it themselves.

  

LOCAL AGENTS.

 

Those whose names are given below are authorized to act as agents for the Free Press, at their respective localities.

 

Cambridge, 0. - Samuel Craig.

Loudinville - A. R. Anderson.

Londonderry - Wm. Wilkins.

Leesville - J. N. Meek.

Scio - M. Jolly.

Steubenville - J. Orr and J. Steele.

Bloomingdale - Dr. J. Carter.

Moore's Salt Works - T. George.

Kimbolton - J. C. Walker.

Washington, 0. - John Craig.

Loydsville - Miss Jane Loyd.

Barnesville - Jesse Bailey.

Fairview - Rev. Merrill.

Flushing - Wm. Palmer.

Sewelsville - D. Pickering.

Shortcreek - Wm. Martin.

Elizabeth, Pa.- Z. Willson.

Venice, Pa. - Rev. Slater.

New-Alexandria, Pa. - Rev. A. M. Milligan.

Zanesville - S. Allen, Dr. Stokes.

Leesville Roads - Rev. Boyd.

Martinsburg - John McMillen.

Connersville, Ind. - D. Patterson.

Jamestown - James Morrow.

Greene - Matthew Wilkin.

Utica - Wm. Stevenson.

Cincinnati - James Brown.

New Richland - S. Mitchell.

Rushylvania - J. French, Jr.

Tranquility - Rev. Hucheson.

Morning Sun - James Milligan.

Bloomington, Ind. - Thomas Smith.

Dresden - Wm. Cunningham.

Otsego - Elijah Coulter.

Newcomerstown - George Walters.

Sicily - Joshua Bratton.

Columbus - David Jenkins.

Pickerington - John McDonald.

Iberia - Levi McGinnis.

Cumberland - William Rabe.

  

PROSPECTUS OF THE

NEW-CONCORD FREE PRESS.

 

THE FREE PRESS is an Anti-Slavery Journal, neutral in party politics, and independent of denomination, published weekly, in New-Concord, Muskingum county, Ohio, by N. R. Johnston.

Whilst the Free Press is neutral in politics, it is not intended that it shall be neutral in morals, or silent respecting the great questions which are now agitating the popular mind. Its objects are; to effect the Abolition of Slavery – prevent its extension over Territory now free – correct an erroneous public opinion respecting the rights of God and man – secure the establishment of Righteous Civil Government – the destruction of all systems of Oppression, whether in the form of Chattel Slavery, Land Monopoly, or Unequal Legislation the suppression of every kind of immorality now flooring and threatening to overwhelm our land, and the removal of every source of crime, destitution, ignorance, and degradation.

With these as the main objects of the Free Press, it will give a weekly summary of important foreign and domestic intelligence, necessary to acquaint its readers with the signs of the times, and bearing upon the interests of Education, Science, Temperance, Morals and Religion; and it is hoped that its weekly visit will be made welcome to all the lovers of truth and equity who may give it their patronage. To the friends of Truth and lovers of Liberty desiring National and Social Reform, we look for support – to the power of Truth, under the influence of the Divine Spirit, we look for success.

See Terms on first page.

  

BULLETIN, No. 1.

 

THE reflective traveler, as he reaches the highest ridge of the Alleghenies, on his journey Westward, is filled with the most profound and interesting sensations. His fancy rapidly surveys that vast and magnificent region which stretches itself far away towards the setting sun, bounded only by the waves of the Pacific ocean, and the rivers flow on through interminable woods. Rich prairies, like seas of verdure, are spread out, decked with bright and nameless bowers. Upon those countless millions of richest acres, the entire population of two worlds like this might find homes of plenty! These wonderful features of the mighty West fills his mind with the profoundest sensations. He reflects still further and the painful fact occurs to him that one great difficulty affects that regions namely, that which relates to Health. He knows that beside those streams, and upon those Prairies the enterprising inhabitants are often and sorely afflicted with Billious Complaints, in all their multiplied forms. A feeling of impatience comes over him that so little has thus far been accomplished to prevent and cure these; especially when he considers that no class of diseases yield so readily to proper means. It is not too much to say that if the difficulty alluded to were removed, and the West made as Healthy as the East, tens upon tens of thousands of human lives would be annually saved and every acre of land in the entire West be doubled in value.

THE GRAFENBERG COMPANY come before the public fully impressed with the importance of this subject; and with the positive certainty that they can prevent and cure sea die tsees of the West. The public has welcomed the Company with unparalleled enthusiasm. Everywhere its medicines are taking the lead of all others; and curing diseases which have baffled all other means.

The Company will hereafter issue Monthly Bulletins, by means of which the public can learn more of its operations. In the present one it can only be stated that

1. The Grafenberg Medicines are purely Vegetable.

2. They have been tested in tens of thousands of cases, with perfect success.

3. Of the Vegetable Pills alone thirty thousand boxes are sold each and every week!

4. The demand is constantly increasing.

5. Every article purchased of the Company or any of its Agents is warranted; and if it does not give satisfaction the money will be refunded.

The three Medicines to which the Company would call attention in the present Bulletin are the Grafenberg Vegetable Pills, for the prevention and cure of the diseases which afflict humanity (especially Billious) these pills are infinitely superior to any the world has before seen. No language can describe their virtues. They are as different from all others before the public as light is from darkness. Every family in the whole West should try them. If they do not give perfect satisfaction the money will be promptly refunded, Price 25 cents a box.

The Grafenberg Fever and Ague Pills. This Pill is the great conqueror of Fever and Ague, and Fever of all other types and forms.

The Grafenberg Health Bitters; A preventives of bilious and other diseases; and a restorer of the strength, the appetite and a healthy complexion. Price 25 cents a package; which will make two quarts of Bitters superior to any in the world.

The other Medicines are the Grafenberg Eye Lotion, the Children's Panacea, The Green Mountain Ointment the Consumptive's Balm, the Dysentery Syrup.

It is intended that there shall be a Grafenberg Depot in every neighborhood in the United States, at which the company's Medicines may be found.

The general Agent for this section of Ohio, is RICHARD GRIFFEE, Frazeysburg, to whom applications for agencies may be addressed.

  

[Dec. 15.] EDWARD BARTON. Sec'y.

Agents. – R. Harper, New-Concord; Philip Bastian, Bridgeville; Jos. F. Brown, Zanesville; J. & J.Crosby, do.; L. H. Worrell, West Zanesville; M. C. Eean, Putnam; Mrs. Wills, S. Zanesville; Benj. Adams, Dresden; Jacob Ackerson, Adam's Mills; D. S. Springer, do.; & Claypole, Nashport; Wymer, Bridgeville.

Jan. 14 ‘47-ly

  

GEMINI!!!

External Strength – Internal Comfort!!

 

GEORGE'S CONCENTRATED

QUAKING ASP BITTERS;

AND

Oleine Compound.

 

THE LATTER is confidently offered to the public as a certain cure for many diseases; and the most effectual prescription in some obstinate diseases, said to be incurable. It is a SPECIFIC in old, running sores, suppurated wounds, cuts and bruises, burns, boils, tumors and sloughing ulcers of almost every variety.

 

SCROFULA,

 

In all its forms and aggravations, has invariably yielded to its sanative influence. Its medicinal powers have been fully tested in the great master disease.

 

WHITE SWELLING,

 

And have never been known to fail, in a single instance, when applied according to directions. It is also an unequalled nepenthic and strengthening plaster for the back, breast, side, or any other part of the system which may demand such an assistant. In deep seated inflammations, if applied in time, it will often prevent suppuration; and when it does not do this, it will hasten the development of the disease with much less pain, and prepare for an easy and speedy cure.

The Concentrated Quaking Asp should invariably accompany the application of the Salve. These Bitters have not been mixed up and presented to the public as an experiment, but they have been prepared with the greatest care and their medicinal properties fully tested. They are an excellent remedy for Indigestion, Dyspepsia, Loss of Appetite, Flatulence, Pain in the Stomach, Cholic, Costiveness, Heart-Burn, Dysentery, Diarrhea, Influenza, Cold, Cough, Pain in the Breast, Asthma, Pleurisy, Palpitation of the Heart, Liver Complaint, Impurity of Blood, and general Nervous Debility. Nearly all the above diseases, or in fact, any derangement of the digestive organs or corrupt humors in the system, exposes the subject to great danger during the prevalence of any epidemic. CHOLERA can be prevented much more easily than cured.

The Quaking Asp Bitters are an invaluable Alterative. They are slightly cathartic, and as a tonic, eminently calculated to restore energy to the system, purify the blood, promote the secretions, remove torpidity of the organs, kindly assist nature in her operations, and thus prevent the necessity of resorting to poisonous and destructive drugs.

They are pleasant to take, purely vegetable, and perfectly safe for either male or female in all conditions. If permitted, we could exhibit certificates of their agreeable and salutary effects in diseases peculiar to women, proving them peculiarly applicable to even the most sensitive and delicate constitution.

Costiveness in children, Colic and Cholera Infantum, or Summer Complaint, have invariably and speedily been relieved.

Don’t put off too long. Delays are dangerous. Disease is more easily checked by some mild and gentle medicine in an incipient state, than cured by the best physicians and strongest drugs when it has fully possessed the whole system. We present a very few certificates, selected from many, of the beneficial effects of our Salve and Bitters.

 

NEW CONCORD, January, 1849.

I do hereby certify that I was for more than two years afflicted with the White Swelling. The very best medical aid was tried for a considerable time, but the disease still became worse. I then obtained some of the OLEINE COMPOUND, and after using it according to directions, the disease was speedily and perfectly cured. I have since used it with the best success in running sores. I therefore recommend it to the world, as in my opinion being an effectual cure for White Swelling, which is one of the most obstinate diseases.

JOHN BELL.

 

CHANDLERSVILLE, Jan., 1849.

In reference to the Oleine Compound I can say, that it was the “good Samaritan” to us. My eldest daughter was long and almost hopelessly afflicted with the real White Swelling. At last I procured this excellent Salve, the disease was mastered, and our daughter restored to health. Many of my neighbors can witness to the uncommon medicinal qualities of the Compound. Its application is attended neither by danger nor pain.

ROBERT WILSON.

 

From the Rev. J. Love.

 

To the PUBLJC: – Having been attacked with bilious Cholic and having suffered severe pain during thirty-six hours, a friend kindly and opportunely presented me a small portion of the Quaking Asp Bitters. Having taken it, the effect was instantaneous relief: and fifteen minutes after, my bowels were as free from pain as before I had the attack. I feel confidently persuader that the Bitters have all the medicinal properties, which are attributed to them in the card with which the public are presented, and that the afflicted will in consequence of a trial, test in their own happy experience their benign salutary effects.

J. LOVE.

Londonderry, O., Feb. 12th, 1849.

 

By the use of one bottle of the Concentrated Quaking Asp Bitters I was permanently cured of Diarrhea which has troubled me very much during the past three months.

ESTHER MILHOLLAND.

New-Concord, July, 1849.

 

I hereby certify that the Quaking Asp Bitters have been used by myself and family with unusual success. – invariably relieving pain in the breast, troublesome coughs, indigestion, colic and dysentery.

ROBERT GEORGE.

New-Concord, August, 1819.

 

I take pleasure in recommending George's Quaking Asp Bitters as a certain remedy for pain in the stomach or bowels, Indigestion and Dysentery.

JOHN M'CARTNEY.

New-Concord, August 6th, '49.

 

We have used the Oleine Compound in very aggravated running sores and sloughing ulcers, and also in scalds and burns, with the most satisfactory success. We consider it a most useful family medicine.

GEORGE MADDEN.

ISABELLA MADDEN.

New-Concord, August 6th, 1849.

 

We are well assured of the powerful medicinal properties of the Oleine Compound, having tried it with success in a very severe attack of Scrofula, in which the skill of different physicians had been tried and failed. It is an excellent salve for sores, cuts and burns. We use it as a family medicine.

JAMES HANSON.

REBECCA HANSON.

 

For sale at New-Concord and the neighboring villages.

 

I really need to go out and actually take some new photos.

 

This Sunday the pastor said something that kind of hit me and opened my eyes. He said “We are supposed to be in the world but we need to be careful not to become the world.” It may seem confusing but as he explained I realized what he meant.

We stand on the edge as Christians. We look at God as a figure like Santa Claus, like he’s only going to give us the good and give us more of it and more. It’s pretty ridiculous in my opinion. I do it too, I stand on the very edge. As close as I can get from falling off so I can taste the life I want to live but also stay in God’s grace.

It’s a romance isn’t it? It’s a love isn’t it? Have you ever considered that by doing that I (we) am cheating on him? I smile and raise my hands and say God have it all…oh wait. Except that. And that. And well yeah, that too. But hey, you can have this Lord.

Yeah no. We are supposed to be in the world because how else can we be affected or help other people if we are not but at the same time we need to be careful that we don’t fall into the ways of the world that will end up hurting us.

Of course God wants us to be happy but you need to constantly keep asking yourself if your actions are honouring to God. Honestly, I feel like the biggest hypocrite saying this but something I need to realize too is that mistakes happen. People screw up. And yes that can be dangerous but you know what’s even more dangerous? Not having fallen down on your face yet, because then you keep living life how you want and by your rules. You don’t feel the need to completely depend on God. But you’re not at the stage where he’s all you need and want. You’re in the middle. I hate being in the middle. It’s more suffocating.

 

One last thing we need to consider is that think of the next generation, think of the last generation. Some of the things that are considered ‘normal’ for teenagers these days were not even thought or considered years ago. It’s just a giant spiral downwards. When we hear stories about twelve years olds already being sexually active, we cringe and worry about what’s happening to today’s society. But sooner or later that will become normal. So tell me, if you’re standing on the edge right now…can you possibly imagine what those same actions and lifestyle will do to your kids? The things that are on the edge for may very well be right off the cliff for them. Not just your kids…there’s your friends. Your family. You boyfriend. Your girlfriend. Etc.

“‘I know your works: you are neither cold nor hot. Would that you were either cold or hot! So, because you are lukewarm, and neither hot nor cold, I will spit you out of my mouth” Revelation 3:15-16

 

“Do not love the world or the things in the world. If anyone loves the world, the love of the Father is not in him. For all that is in the world—the desires of the flesh and the desires of the eyes and pride in possessions—is not from the Father but is from the world.” 1 John 2:15-16

We are like mist. We are only here for a moment before we disappear. So how are we okay with standing on the edge and risking and backstabbing everything our saviour has given us, in such a short moment?

So here’s what we need to do. Realize we’re standing on a fence. And realize there are two very long ways down that happen to come with you letting go and losing a lot. However, one side…you fall and fall and fall. The other, you fall and fall and God redeems you when he catches you. You can be as comfortable with sitting on the fence for as long as you want but in the end…you will fall off. It’s you’re choice as to which side you fall.

 

Bhutan is not a country that is generally well known. If asked, most people might say that it lies somewhere in the Himalayas and is a bit hilly. If pressed, they might think of yaks and snow leopards and rhododendrons, or maybe know it as the land where development is measured in terms of Gross National Happiness rather than Gross Domestic Privation.

 

And in fact, this latter characteristic most fits with my experiences of this mountainous kingdom – the happiness of the people stands out a mile. In the short time that I was there I cannot recall a frown or a curse or even so much as a tiny disagreement. Even the use of the car horn is limited to polite little peeps or playful messages sent to pretty girls as they saunter along the pavement. It is such a gentle society.

 

It’s also an equal and an emancipated one. Women are first in line to inherit following the death of their parents; it is they who get the house and the property and the rights, not the son (whether he’s older or not). Women can have as many spouses as men. Women are very forthright when it comes to flirting: within a couple of hours at my first hotel I was invited to a dance that evening and asked if I wanted to marry one of the waitresses. I didn’t take advantage of either offer but, given the beauty of the women here, I was sorely tempted. They really are extremely lovely – slim and wiggly bodies, velvety black hair that never seems to grey, wonderful dimpled smiles, and eyes that just penetrate into the heart of you.

 

They seem to be a very sexually liberated lot (well, that’s one way of calling it). My guide, Kinlay, was forever talking about his girlfriends (even though he’s married with two sons), hanky-panky (but no spanky, perhaps that was pushing revelations a mite too far given that I’d only just met him), and jiggy-jiggy (or, in local parlance, ‘jeggy-jeggy’), or shouting, ‘Charimdumaray’ (‘You’re lovely’) through the window at any passing female. But then he’s very young, he’s in his thirties … Or maybe he’s just trying to live up to the reputation of his namesake, Lama Drukpa Kunley (1455-1529), aka ‘The Divine Madman’, a saint who had the MO of driving out demons by means of excessive drinking and fornication which sounds a perfectly valid and jolly method of exorcism to me. His signature, a big phallus , now adorns many buildings throughout the area – a sign to ward off evil and protect the household. I wonder how this would go down with the good citizens of Ayr?

 

Many people still revere His Mad Divineship / Holy Madness and consequently many people have been given his name (or that of the temple that was dedicated to him, ‘Chimey Lhakhang’). The first two people I met in Bhutan were called Kunley. Then the third (who was confusingly a woman ) turned out to be a Kunley too. And so was the fourth. I gave up asking after that.

 

Bhutan is now a constitutional monarchy since the present king relinquished absolute rule in 2008. Like a 21 year old with the keys to life, the new democracy is revelling in its liberation, independence and autonomy and is enjoying furnishing its own flat and buying its own clothes and food. But at the same time it looks up to the person who granted it its freedom, and the whole country remains loyal and truly affectionate towards the Royal Family.

 

The king (31, Pisces - they like such details here) married his young betrothed (21, Virgo ) on the 13th October. Every shop had photos of the couple posted outside and inside, decorated with ribbons in the colours of the Buddha – blue (for the sky), white (for the clouds), red (for fire), green (for water) and yellow (for the soil). Huge banners adorned hillsides and town gates. Radio programmes were filled with callers wishing the happy pair a long, fruitful, loving union. And as I watched the wedding in a restaurant in Paro , with the assembled masses in the crowds and in the organised dances that must have taken weeks to rehearse, and thought that there could not be a single person in the nation who was not either at the ceremony or who was not glued to the TV, it occurred to me that this was what it must have been like with QEII 50 years ago . How long will this state of innocent bliss last?

 

Maybe for a long time yet. Not only is this a peaceful society (I never once felt threatened) but it’s also relatively prosperous, well organised, and, crucially and in a real way, it actually is a society. It is not a collection of individuals out to benefit for themselves. This is one big nation of people (about 650 000 of them) who believe they are part of a larger community of family, friends and neighbours. The neighbours may be from the east of the country (300 miles away and effectively 2 days travelling) who speak another dialect and wear different clothes, but they are still part of the same community.

 

Free education for all plays an important role in levelling classes and bringing people together. The king (apparently) lives in a ‘cottage’ and he is certainly one who puts much effort in meeting and greeting. The ceremony he attended in Thimpu, after the wedding, lasted from 0900 to 1700 and for a lot of that time he was moving amongst the crowds, shaking hands and speaking with (not ‘to’ – I don’t think he’s a Charlie. ‘And what do you do?’ – probably isn’t his stock, opening gambit) virtually everyone there.

 

Communities work in unison to improve the environment and their own lives. They harvest the rice together, it’s a communal thing. Often I saw small congregations on the hillside, burning juniper as incense, intoning incantations, chanting with monks. Several times I saw parties of villagers or school children walking along the roadside picking up litter. The land is free of piles of rubbish. This is a clean country. The drains and rivers are not open sewers. Not once did I see a rat.

 

Smoking was banned recently. It’s an offence to smoke – you could be imprisoned. For grass it’s up to three years for possession and 9 years for dealing. This was the first country to outlaw plastic bags too. Unfortunately, however, for both fags and bags neither law is strictly enforced and both are commonly (if expensively for the former) available.

 

But Bhutan is not Shangri La. In 1999 TV was introduced for the first time. Now the two favourite programmes are World Federation Wrestling from the USA, and ‘Bhutan Idol’ (the third series) – it was this programme that Kinlay said would prevent me from watching any footie on TV in the bars. ‘Idol’ was that popular! Everyone now has a TV and there is a good link between the growth in its distribution and the incidence of crime in the country.

Mobile phones came in in 2003 (so my guide said) and they are now ubiquitous. Young people have adopted the global practice of meeting up and then spending all the time texting and / or phoning other friends elsewhere. That’s when they can stop blowing bubble gum for long enough to say anything. One person I met had a sophisticated ring tone system that alerted him to whoever was trying to contact him: his wife’s ring tone was his young son’s crying and gurgling; his mate’s tone was an extract from his favourite blue movie accompanied by the obligatory image of a busty brunette.

 

The people like to dress up for occasions (like the festival – Tseschu – in Thimpu) with their finest national gear: beautiful, iridescent, brightly coloured silk dresses for the women; rather more subdued but still unique skirts and knee-high stockings for the men. When visiting national monuments (such as museums, temples, dzongs ) or events they have to dress in national costume. But these days, for normal everyday wear, they tend far more towards the boring western norm of t-shirts and jeans and track-suits (usually with ‘Man Utd’ written on them. Damn their souls!). There was a great contrast between the clothes worn to the formal Tseschu festival and the far less formal singalong in Thimpu town square – colourful, vibrant, exciting of the exotic compared with the dull, drab, grey and black of the mundane (and the future).

 

Traditional sports seem to be holding their own against the overwhelming and inexorable influence of football . Archery is something the Bhutanese are especially good at having won medals of all colours at recent Olympics. These days they employ carbon composite bows for main competitions. Traditional bows of bamboo are still found and used but mainly to simply maintain the tradition. The target is a wooden board about 40cm high and usually 140m from the archer. No wonder they’re good at it.

 

Darts (not the UK variety) – about 15cm long consisting of a 3cm metal point, a wooden shaft and 5cm feathers – is also played at weekends. The ‘court’ is longer than a cricket pitch and the target is a 30cm wooden board with a bulls-eye near the top. A wall of earth or concrete backdrops the target, really just a sop to health and safety. They are not overly concerned with H&S, which is healthy.

 

For both archery and darts, the opposing team (all wearing fine traditional skirts ) line up alongside the target and watch intently as the projectile is released and heads towards them. The observers’ reaction time for the darts is far less than that for archery. I think I was happier watching the archery. When a dart or arrow actually hits the board it triggers a mediaeval ritual of chanting and dancing by both of the teams, in praise of the gods for such a blessing. If only our supporters and ‘sportsmen’ took win and loss in the same spirit.

 

There are cars in Bhutan as well. Not many of them because there aren’t that many people. They are in good condition and few of them send out blasts of poisonous black smoke. I saw my first privately-owned electric car here. They are generally new (the favourites being Hyundais and Toyota) and without any dents. Motorbikes are rare and tuc-tucs are entirely absent (which is such a relief!). Roads (maintained and built by Indians, and funded by the RoI government) are largely pothole-free and gloriously smooth. It still takes a long time to get anywhere because of the winding nature of the terrain, but at least it’s almost painless.

 

But, of course, this road system comes at a cost. Gangs of Indians, thousands of them, have been imported and have set up semi-permanent residence in Bhutan (without citizen rights, of course) and their sole employment, occupation and raison d’etre is road building and repair. They work very long hours (0600 to 1600 hrs) for a pittance. Their tools are mainly their hands: hauling large stones over cliffs or onto lorries. Primitive implements are provided: back bent double as they use pathetic brushes to sweep the road; women shovelling sand and gravel and throwing it through sieves. Some (men as well as women) actually break rocks with hammers, all day long, like a work detail from a ‘40s state penitentiary, a modern day chain-gang. These gangs have their own settlements and schools; they are separate from mainstream Bhutanese society. But they don’t seem to be discriminated or prejudiced against. There is, at least, no bigotry in Bhutan.

 

Except perhaps against the Nepalese. This is not talked about, but many Bhutanese who originated in Nepal (two or three or more generations back) were forcibly deported in the ‘90s (?) and now reside in refugee camps in Nepal. I met only one person whose ancestors came from Nepal but he seemed contented and calm. He might have said more but we’d been caught up in a delay caused by a landslide and the obstruction had just been removed so we had to move on. 11 days is not enough in Bhutan.

 

You might think that a Buddhist democracy consisting of less than three quarters of a million people might not need or, especially, want an army. How could they justify killing? And anyway, what could their paltry population hope to accomplish against the might of the Indians or Chinese if they chose to invade ? But it’s a career path to some (Kinlay considered it after university (in Chennai) if tourism didn’t work out), and for others the army really is a necessity.

 

Earlier in the noughties there was some trouble with Assamese rebels. They had occupied some of the forests of the duars in Bhutan (just across the border) and were causing problems (not with the locals – the Assamese were generous with their payment for goods – but with the (Indian?) politicians). Negotiations with the rebels were not successful and so the Bhutanese government sent in the troops. This resulted in the insurgents being ousted but at the cost of 12 Bhutanese soldiers being killed. The effects of this battle / war seems to have become deeply embedded within the psyche of the Bhutanese; a large memorial (at Dochu La consisting of 108 chortens) was established to commemorate the conflict and one of the on-going repercussions is that the army are more popular than ever. Not that it would ever sink to the depths of the Burmese army and become a junta. That would be unthinkable.

 

So the army is needed . But what about religious or moral objections, after all Costa Rica doesn’t have a standing army so surely a strict Buddhist nation could do without one? But then the Bhutanese love meat. They are devout devourers of pork and beef and, to a slightly lesser extent, chicken? So long as they don’t have to kill the animals themselves they are happy to consume flesh.

 

Do I hear calls of ‘Hypocracy’? Well, I’m not going to shout them down.

 

But all religions are institutionally hypocritical and Buddhism is no worse than any other. An army of a Buddhist nation sounds contradictory but religion has always been political, nations are essentially political beasts with artificial boundaries, politicians need to maintain and protect those boundaries as well as they can given limited resources, and armies are the main way of providing protection.

 

At least this army is not there to violate other nations or supress the population or support an unauthorised government. It provides comfort and a sense of security, a source of pride, and a life for many people. Who am I to criticise it?

 

The trekking in Bhutan was far better than in Nepal (although Nepal was good). Here it was proper camping, there it was in Guesthouses. Nepal is over-populated, there is no getting away from people; waves of trekkers (ramblers) met you head on along the Poon Hill circuit; football crowds gathered to catch the dawn view of Annapurna; dogs, locals, cows, agricultural terraces … they all swarm and cover the slopes of Nepal.

 

But in Bhutan … ah, it’s different. I met perhaps 10 other trekkers on my 5 day stint. Yes, there were monks and the occasional dog, but mainly it was me in the wild, in untouched, blue pine forests and stands of huge or dwarf rhodies and junipers and alpine meadows of the highest hills. Alongside the soft beats of the wings of the goshawk, and ‘glowps’ of ravens, and cheeky cawings of choughs there was the whisper of winds and ripple of drying leaves. No sounds of machinery. No barking . No drunken laughter . It was heaven.

 

Of course I was spoilt. Apart from the landscape, and the views, and the sky and the clouds, and the wildlife and the vegetation, I had a platoon of (for wont of a better word ) servants to look after my every needs. I had my own chef, and he had a helper. I had a guide who made sure I didn’t fall down a cliff or take the wrong path. I had a horseman who looked after the seven ponies that accompanied our small expedition. The only person I lacked was a masseur (which, incidentally, was what I really needed).

 

They erected my tent and decamped for me. They cooked me three meals a day and washed up after me. I was served at my table and they even ran off to buy beer for me . They set up my own private lav, provided loo paper, and filled the hole in after me. My guide even carried my water bottle. They did everything for me except tuck me in at night (for which I was grateful).

 

It was hard walking, some of the slopes were steep, and it was bloody cold at night. I met a couple of Aussies on the second day and, after I remarked how bloody cold it was the previous night (not that I was fixated or anything), they said, ‘Well, it gets colder. There was frost on the ground two nights ago.’ I said, ‘Great. Good job my sleeping bag isn’t as good as I thought it was (and the zip’s broken), and that I forgot my socks.’ They said, ‘You forgot your socks?! Are you mad?’ I didn’t say anything. ‘But you’re from Scotland, right?’ ‘Aye,’ I said, ‘You’ll be fine then.’ They were nice people but they could afford to be because they’d survived the ordeal and were now heading back to civilisation. They had had socks. Smug bastards. Nice people though.

 

Ten minutes later, as I was watching a huge thanka being unfolded by the Phajoding monks, the lady (to my shame I never did get to know her name) ran up to me and offered, like a true Buddhist using both hands, a pair of socks. ‘They’re a day and a half old,’ she said, ‘but they’ll save your life!’ I didn’t know what to say so I kept repeating, like the simpleton John Miles played in ‘Ryan’s Daughter’, ‘Thank you, thank you.’ I refrained from saying ‘God bless’, but I was genuinely touched (in more ways than one) and didn’t even have the sense to ask for their address so that I could send them back to Oz. Which was just as well. But I would have had them washed.

 

And the socks really were a Godsend. Never before have I held so much regard for footware. They (along with the extra blanket supplied by chef) actually made the next three nights bearable (just. There was still the issue of the bells and the thin mattress). Thanks Australia ;-)

 

Overall, you might think that a minimum of $200 a day to visit and exist in Bhutan is a lot of money. And it is. No argument. But … this money covers everything apart from incidentals such as snacks and souvenirs , and so, although it’s expensive, it’s not that expensive and is, actually, when it comes down to it, damned good value for money. Outside of Bhutan, how much would it cost to have what they provided me? A personal guide (just for little old me) who answers most of the inane and arcane questions I usually pose to myself or strangers (who aren’t good at responding. Either of them) and panders to almost my every whim My own transport (so I can say, ‘Why don’t we go down this wee road?’, ‘Can we just stop here for a minute to take a photo’, and ‘STOP! There’s a bird I haven’t seen, I’m sure of it. Might be new to science too. Come on, we’ll be famous!’ ) My your own private expeditionary force to conquer the Himalayas? The chance to stay in top class hotels (with clean, unstained sheets and electrics that work. Luxury). To have all your meals provided for you (most of them excellent). And to have the flexibility to be able to change itinerary and venues / hotels depending on how you feel … and all this amongst the beauty, serenity and unspoilt splendour of a country which is Bhutan …

 

Well, what can I say? It’s not a perfect country, but it comes damned close to it.

 

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Curse of the Demon / Night of the Demon

Columbia TriStar Home Entertainment

1957/58 / B&W / 1:78 anamorphic 16:9 / 82, 95 min. / Street Date August 13, 2002 / $24.95

Starring Dana Andrews, Peggy Cummins, Niall MacGinnis, Maurice Denham, Athene Seyler

Cinematography Ted Scaife

Production Designer Ken Adam

Special Effects George Blackwell, S.D. Onions, Wally Veevers

Film Editor Michael Gordon

Original Music Clifton Parker

Written by Charles Bennett and Hal E. Chester from the story Casting the Runes by Montague R. James

Produced by Frank Bevis, Hal E. Chester

Directed by Jacques Tourneur

  

Reviewed by Glenn Erickson

 

Savant champions a lot of genre movies but only infrequently does one appear like Jacques Tourneur's superlative Curse of the Demon. It's simply better than the rest -- an intelligent horror film with some very good scares. It occupies a stylistic space that sums up what's best in ghost stories and can hold its own with most any supernatural film ever made. Oh, it's also a great entertainment that never fails to put audiences at the edge of their seats.

What's more, Columbia TriStar has shown uncommon respect for their genre output by including both versions of Curse of the Demon on one disc. Savant has full coverage on the versions and their restoration below, following his thorough and analytical (read: long-winded and anal) coverage of the film itself.

 

Synopsis:

  

Dr. John Holden (Dana Andrews), a scientist and professional debunker of superstitious charlatans, arrives in England to help Professor Henry Harrington (Maurice Denham) assault the phony cult surrounding Dr. Julian Karswell (Niall McGinnis). But Harrington has mysteriously died and Holden becomes involved with his niece Joanna (Peggy Cummins), who thinks Karswell had something to do with it. Karswell's 'tricks' confuse the skeptical Holden, but he stubbornly holds on to his conviction that he's " ... not a sucker, like 90% of the human race." That is, until the evidence mounts that Harrington was indeed killed by a demon summoned from Hell, and that Holden is the next intended victim!

  

The majority of horror films are fantasies in which we accept supernatural ghosts, demons and monsters as part of a deal we've made with the authors: they dress the fantasy in an attractive guise and arrange the variables into an interesting pattern, and we agree to play along for the sake of enjoyment. When it works the movies can resonate with personal meaning. Even though Dracula and Frankenstein are unreal, they are relevant because they're aligned with ideas and themes in our subconscious.

Horror films that seriously confront the no-man's land between rational reality and supernatural belief have a tough time of it. Everyone who believes in God knows that the tug o' war between rationality and faith in our culture has become so clogged with insane belief systems it's considered impolite to dismiss people who believe in flying saucers or the powers of crystals or little glass pyramids. One of Dana Andrews' key lines in Curse of the Demon, defending his dogged skepticism against those urging him to have an open mind, is his retort, "If the world is a dark place ruled by Devils and Demons, we all might as well give up right now." Curse of the Demon balances itself between skepticism and belief with polite English manners, letting us have our fun as it lays its trap. We watch Andrews roll his eyes and scoff at the feeble séance hucksters and the dire warnings of a foolish-looking necromancer. Meanwhile, a whole dark world of horror sneaks up on him. The film's intelligent is such that we're not offended by its advocacy of dark forces or even its literal, in-your-face demon.

The remarkable Curse of the Demon was made in England for Columbia but is gloriously unaffected by that company's zero-zero track record with horror films. Producer Hal E. Chester would seem an odd choice to make a horror classic after producing Joe Palooka films and acting as a criminal punk in dozens of teen crime movies. The obvious strong cards are writer Charles Bennett, the brains behind several classic English Hitchcock pictures (who 'retired' into meaningless bliss writing for schlockmeister Irwin Allen) and Jacques Tourneur, a master stylist who put Val Lewton on the map with Cat People and I Walked With a Zombie. Tourneur made interesting Westerns (Canyon Passage, Great Day in the Morning) and perhaps the most romantic film noir, Out of the Past. By the late '50s he was on what Andrew Sarris in his American Film called 'a commercial downgrade'. The critic lumped Curse of the Demon with low budget American turkeys like The Fearmakers. 1

Put Tourneur with an intelligent script, a decent cameraman and more than a minimal budget and great things could happen. We're used to watching Corman Poe films, English Hammer films and Italian Bavas and Fredas, all the while making excuses for the shortcomings that keep them in the genre ghetto (where they all do quite well, thank you). There's even a veiled resentment against upscale shockers like The Innocents that have resources (money, time, great actors) denied our favorite toilers in the genre realm. Curse of the Demon is above all those considerations. It has name actors past their prime and reasonable production values. Its own studio (at least in America) released it like a genre quickie, double-billed with dreck like The Night the World Exploded and The Giant Claw. They cut it by 13 minutes, changed its title (to ape The Curse of Frankenstein?) and released a poster featuring a huge, slavering demon monster that some believe was originally meant to be barely glimpsed in the film itself. 2

 

Horror movies can work on more than one level but Curse of the Demon handles several levels and then some. The narrative sets up John Holden as a professional skeptic who raises a smirking eyebrow to the open minds of his colleagues. Unlike most second-banana scientists in horror films, they express divergent points of view. Holden just sees himself as having common sense but his peers are impressed by the consistency of demonological beliefs through history. Maybe they all saw Christensen's Witchcraft through the Ages, which might have served as a primer for author Charles Bennett. Smart dialogue allows Holden to score points by scoffing at the then-current "regression to past lives" scam popularized by the Bridey Murphy craze. 3 While Holden stays firmly rooted to his position, coining smart phrases and sarcastic put-downs of believers, the other scientists are at least willing to consider alternate possibilities. Indian colleague K.T. Kumar (Peter Elliott) keeps his opinion to himself. But when asked, he politely states that he believes entirely in the world of demons! 4

Holden may think he has the truth by the tail but it takes Kindergarten teacher Joanna Harrington (Peggy Cummins of Gun Crazy fame) to show him that being a skeptic doesn't mean ignoring facts in front of one's face. Always ready for a drink (a detail added to tailor the part to Andrews?), Holden spends the first couple of reels as interested in pursuing Miss Harrington, as he is the devil-worshippers. The details and coincidences pile up with alarming speed -- the disappearing ink untraceable by the lab, the visual distortions that might be induced by hypnosis, the pages torn from his date book and the parchment of runic symbols. Holden believes them to be props in a conspiracy to draw him into a vortex of doubt and fear. Is he being set up the way a Voodoo master cons his victim, by being told he will die, with fabricated clues to make it all appear real? Holden even gets a bar of sinister music stuck in his head. It's the title theme -- is this a wicked joke on movie soundtracks?

 

Speak of the Devil...

 

This brings us to the wonderful character of Julian Karswell, the kiddie-clown turned multi-millionaire cult leader. The man who launched Alfred Hitchcock as a maker of sophisticated thrillers here creates one of the most interesting villains ever written, one surely as good as any of Hitchcock's. In the short American cut Karswell is a shrewd games-player who shows Holden too many of his cards and finally outsmarts himself. The longer UK cut retains the full depth of his character.

Karswell has tapped into the secrets of demonology to gain riches and power, yet he tragically recognizes that he is as vulnerable to the forces of Hell as are the cowering minions he controls through fear. Karswell's coven means business. It's an entirely different conception from the aesthetic salon coffee klatch of The Seventh Victim, where nothing really supernatural happens and the only menace comes from a secret society committing new crimes to hide old ones.

Karswell keeps his vast following living in fear, and supporting his extravagant lifestyle under the idea that Evil is Good, and Good Evil. At first the Hobart Farm seems to harbor religious Christian fundamentalists who have turned their backs on their son. Then we find out that they're Karswell followers, living blighted lives on cursed acreage and bled dry by their cultist "leader." Karswell's mum (Athene Seyler) is an inversion of the usual insane Hitchcock mother. She lovingly resists her son's philosophy and actively tries to help the heroes. That's in the Night version, of course. In the shorter American cut she only makes silly attempts to interest Joanna in her available son and arranges for a séance. Concerned by his "negativity", Mother confronts Julian on the stairs. He has no friends, no wife, no family. He may be a mass extortionist but he's still her baby. Karswell explains that by exploiting his occult knowledge, he's immersed himself forever in Evil. "You get nothing for nothing"

 

Karswell is like the Devil on Earth, a force with very limited powers that he can't always control. By definition he cannot trust any of his own minions. They're unreliable, weak and prone to double-cross each other, and they attract publicity that makes a secret society difficult to conceal. He can't just kill Holden, as he hasn't a single henchman on the payroll. He instead summons the demon, a magic trick he's only recently mastered. When Karswell turns Harrington away in the first scene we can sense his loneliness. The only person who can possibly understand is right before him, finally willing to admit his power and perhaps even tolerate him. Karswell has no choice but to surrender Harrington over to the un-recallable Demon. In his dealings with the cult-debunker Holden, Karswell defends his turf but is also attempting to justify himself to a peer, another man who might be a potential equal. It's more than a duel of egos between a James Bond and a Goldfinger, with arrogance and aggression masking a mutual respect; Karswell knows he's taken Lewton's "wrong turning in life," and will have to pay for it eventually.

Karswell eventually earns Holden's respect, especially after the fearful testimony of Rand Hobart. It's taken an extreme demonstration to do it, but Holden budges from his smug position. He may not buy all of the demonology hocus-pocus but it's plain enough that Karswell or his "demon" is going to somehow rub him out. Seeking to sneak the parchment back into Karswell's possession, Holden becomes a worthy hero because he's found the maturity to question his own preconceptions. Armed with his rational, cool head, he's a force that makes Karswell -- without his demon, of course -- a relative weakling. Curse of the Demon ends in a classic ghost story twist, with just desserts dished out and balance recovered. The good characters are less sure of their world than when they started, but they're still able to cope. Evil has been defeated not by love or faith, but by intellect.

 

Curse of the Demon has the Val Lewton sensibility as has often been cited in Tourneur's frequent (and very effective) use of the device called the Lewton "Bus" -- a wholly artificial jolt of fast motion and noise interrupting a tense scene. There's an ultimate "bus" at the end when a train blasts in and sets us up for the end title. It "erases" the embracing actors behind it and I've always thought it had to be an inspiration for the last shot of North by NorthWest. The ever-playful Hitchcock was reportedly a big viewer of fantastic films, from which he seems to have gotten many ideas. He's said to have dined with Lewton on more than one occasion (makes sense, they were at one time both Selznick contractees) and carried on a covert competition with William Castle, of all people.

Visually, Tourneur's film is marvelous, effortlessly conjuring menacing forests lit in the fantastic Mario Bava mode by Ted Scaife, who was not known as a genre stylist. There are more than a few perfunctory sets, with some unflattering mattes used for airport interiors, etc.. Elsewhere we see beautiful designs by Ken Adam in one of his earliest outings. Karswell's ornate floor and central staircase evoke an Escher print, especially when visible/invisible hands appear on the banister. A hypnotic, maze-like set for a hotel corridor is also tainted by Escher and evokes a sense of the uncanny even better than the horrid sounds Holden hears. The build-up of terror is so effective that one rather unconvincing episode (a fight with a Cat People - like transforming cat) does no harm. Other effects, such as the demon footprints appearing in the forest, work beautifully.

In his Encyclopedia of Horror Movies Phil Hardy very rightly relates Curse of the Demon's emphasis on the visual to the then just-beginning Euro-horror subgenre. The works of Bava, Margheriti and Freda would make the photographic texture of the screen the prime element of their films, sometimes above acting and story logic.

 

Columbia TriStar's DVD of Curse of the Demon / Night of the Demon presents both versions of this classic in one package. American viewers saw an effective but abbreviated cut-down. If you've seen Curse of the Demon on cable TV or rented a VHS or a laser anytime after 1987, you're not going to see anything different in the film. In 1987 Columbia happened to pull out the English cut when it went to re-master. When the title came up as Night of the Demon, they just slugged in the Curse main title card and let it go.

From such a happy accident (believe me, nobody in charge at Columbia at the time would have purposely given a film like this a second glance) came a restoration at least as wonderful as the earlier reversion of The Fearless Vampire Killers to its original form. Genre fans were taken by surprise and the Laserdisc became a hot item that often traded for hundreds of dollars. 6

 

Back in film school Savant had been convinced that ever seeing the long, original Night cut was a lost cause. An excellent article in the old Photon magazine in the early '70s 5, before such analytical work was common, accurately laid out the differences between the two versions, something Savant needs to do sometime with The Damned and These Are the Damned. The Photon article very accurately describes the cut scenes and what the film lost without them, and certainly inspired many of the ideas here.

Being able to see the two versions back-to-back shows exactly how they differ. Curse omits some scenes and rearranges others. Gone is some narration from the title sequence, most of the airplane ride, some dialogue on the ground with the newsmen and several scenes with Karswell talking to his mother. Most crucially missing are Karswell's mother showing Joanna the cabalistic book everyone talks so much about and Holden's entire visit to the Hobart farm to secure a release for his examination of Rand Hobart. Of course the cut film still works (we loved the cut Curse at UCLA screenings and there are people who actually think it's better) but it's nowhere near as involving as the complete UK version. Curse also reshuffles some events, moving Holden's phantom encounter in the hallway nearer the beginning, which may have been to get a spooky scene in the middle section or to better disguise the loss of whole scenes later. The chop-job should have been obvious. The newly imposed fades and dissolves look awkward. One cut very sloppily happens right in the middle of a previous dissolve.

Night places both Andrews and Cummins' credits above the title and gives McGinnis an "also starring" credit immediately afterwards. Oddly, Curse sticks Cummins afterwards and relegates McGinnis to the top of the "also with" cast list. Maybe with his role chopped down, some Columbia executive thought he didn't deserve the billing?

Technically, both versions look just fine, very sharp and free of digital funk that would spoil the film's spooky visual texture. Night of the Demon is the version to watch for both content and quality. It's not perfect but has better contrast and less dirt than the American version. Curse has more emulsion scratches and flecking white dandruff in its dark scenes, yet looks fine until one sees the improvement of Night. Both shows are widescreen enhanced (hosanna), framing the action at its original tighter aspect ratio.

It's terrific that Columbia TriStar has brought out this film so thoughtfully, even though some viewers are going to be confused when their "double feature" disc appears to be two copies of the same movie. Let 'em stew. This is Savant's favorite release so far this year.

 

On a scale of Excellent, Good, Fair, and Poor, Curse of the Demon / Night of the Demon rates:

Movie: Excellent

  

Footnotes:

Made very close to Curse of the Demon and starring Dana Andrews, The Fearmakers (great title) was a Savant must-see until he caught up with it in the UA collection at MGM. It's a pitiful no-budgeter that claims Madison Avenue was providing public relations for foreign subversives, and is negligible even in the lists of '50s anti-Commie films.

Return

 

Curse of the Demon's Demon has been the subject of debate ever since the heyday of Famous Monsters of Filmland. From what's on record it's clear that producer Chester added or maximized the shots of the creature, a literal visualization of a fiery, brimstone-smoking classical woodcut demon that some viewers think looks ridiculous. Bennett and Tourneur's original idea was to never show a demon but the producer changed that. Tourneur probably directed most of the shots, only to have Chester over-use them. To Savant's thinking, the demon looks great. It is first perceived as an ominous sound, a less strident version of the disturbing noise made by Them! Then it manifests itself visually as a strange disturbance in the sky (bubbles? sparks? early slit-scan?) followed by a billowing cloud of sulphurous smoke (a dandy effect not exploited again until Close Encounters of the Third Kind). The long-shot demon is sometimes called the bicycle demon because he's a rod puppet with legs that move on a wheel-rig. Smoke belches from all over his scaly body. Close-ups are provided by a wonderfully sculpted head 'n' shoulders demon with articulated eyes and lips, a full decade or so before Carlo Rambaldi started engineering such devices.

Most of the debate centers on how much Demon should have been shown with the general consensus that less would have been better. People who dote on Lewton-esque ambivalence say that the film's slow buildup of rationality-versus demonology is destroyed by the very real Demon's appearance in the first scene, and that's where they'd like it removed or radically reduced. The Demon is so nicely integrated into the cutting (the giant foot in the first scene is a real jolt) that it's likely that Tourneur himself filmed it all, perhaps expecting the shots to be shorter or more obscured. It is also possible that the giant head was a post-Tourneur addition - it doesn't tie in with the other shots as well (especially when it rolls forward rather stiffly) and is rather blunt. Detractors lump it in with the gawd-awful head of The Black Scorpion, which is filmed the same way and almost certainly was an afterthought - and also became a key poster image. This demon head matches the surrounding action a lot better than did the drooling Scorpion.

Savant wouldn't change Curse of the Demon but if you put a gun to my head I'd shorten most of the shots in its first appearance, perhaps eliminating all close-ups except for the final, superb shot of the the giant claw reaching for Harrington / us.

  

Kumar, played (I assume) by an Anglo actor, immediately evokes all those Indian and other Third World characters in Hammer films whose indigenous cultures invariably hold all manner of black magic and insidious horror. When Hammer films are repetitious it's because they take eighty minutes or so to convince the imagination-challenged English heroes to even consider the premise of the film as being real. In Curse of the Demon, Holden's smart-tongued dismissal of outside viewpoints seems much more pigheaded now than it did in 1957, when heroes confidently defended conformist values without being challenged. Kumar is a scientist but also probably a Hindu or a Sikh. He has no difficulty reconciling his faith with his scientific detachment. Holden is far too tactful to call Kumar a crazy third-world guru but that's probably what he's thinking. He instead politely ignores him. Good old Kumar then saves Holden's hide with some timely information. I hope Holden remembered to thank him.

There's an unstated conclusion in Curse of the Demon: Holden's rigid disbelief of the supernatural means he also does not believe in a Christian God with its fundamentally spiritual faith system of Good and Evil, saints and devils, angels and demons. Horror movies that deal directly with religious symbolism and "real faith" can be hypocritical in their exploitation and brutal in their cheap toying with what are for many people sacred personal concepts. I'm thinking of course of The Exorcist here. That movie has all the grace of a reporter who shows a serial killer's atrocity photos to a mother whose child has just been kidnapped. Curse of the Demon hasn't The Exorcist's ruthless commercial instincts but instead has the modesty not to pretend to be profound, or even "real." Yet it expresses our basic human conflict between rationality and faith very nicely.

 

Savant called Jim Wyrnoski, who was associated with Photon, in an effort to find out more about the article, namely who wrote it. It was very well done and I've never forgotten it; I unfortunately loaned my copy out to good old Jim Ursini and it disappeared. Obviously, a lot of the ideas here, I first read there. Perhaps a reader who knows better how to take care of their belongings can help me with the info? Ursini and Alain Silvers' More Things than are Dreamt Of Limelight, 1994, analyzes Curse of the Demon (and many other horror movies) in the context of its source story.

 

This is a true story: Cut to 2000. Columbia goes to re-master Curse of the Demon and finds that the fine-grain original of the English version is missing. The original long version of the movie may be lost forever. A few months later a collector appears who says he bought it from another unnamed collector and offers to trade it for a print copy of the American version, which he prefers. Luckily, an intermediary helps the collector follow up on his offer and the authorities are not contacted about what some would certainly call stolen property. The long version is now once again safe. Studios clearly need to defend their property but many collectors have "items" they personally have acquired legally. More often than you might think, such finds come about because studios throw away important elements. If the studios threaten prosecution, they will find that collectors will never approach them. They'd probably prefer to destroy irreplaceable film to avoid being criminalized.

  

The world trade center from brooklyn ..Also crossing the brooklyn bridge with world trade center on fire..Various crowd sceens at city hall..W trade tower falls down and people running shot on west street ..Both towers fall shots on west street at world trade center fireman .Trying to hose down buring cars and firetrucks caught on fore from the debrte of bldg

street shot / portrait anonymous

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LCC has very graciously been donated a full page ad in a local coupon magazine called Movie Clips. We've been messing around with a few ideas about what to communicate that's beyond the normal basic (safe) information.

 

So far, this is our most interesting idea. We want to reach out to the un-churched and de-churched crowd, and a common criticism is that church is full of hypocrites (sidenote- we are in the Bible Belt). At the same time, we want to make sure that while edgy and grabbing attention we still communicate truth.

 

We really need your feedback. We'll be submitting this ad in the next day or so.

 

Thanks!

so most of you probably won't see the significance in this photo. but to me, it's a big deal.

 

this is the first photo i've ever posted on Flickr where i'm wearing no makeup. i've been meaning to take a photo along the lines of "you are beautiful" by Christina Aguilera for months. i've got a couple of plans in my head, and today i finally got about starting them. this isn't anywhere near how i planned it, but i'll take some more with the lyrics soon.

 

just before christmas i took a photo showing how i feel about wearing makeup. personally, i feel a bit hypocritical embracing the whole 'natural beauty' thing, because i know that i wouldn't leave the house without makeup. and recently, i've been putting some thought to that. if you talk to any guy any decent guy, he'll tell you he'd rather see you with zero makeup. i think it's the threat of girls which is why we wear makeup. we all follow eachother. we all wear makeup because if you don't, you stand out, you look odd. and girls are the sort of people who would notice that change and comment, make a point of it.

from what these decent guys i know say, they'd rather see me without makeup. i have to admit i haven't yet allowed that to happen, but maybe someday i'll be brave enough to. and maybe someday i won't be so terrified of being judged by girls that i won't wear makeup...but until then, i'll hide behind my mask of indifference.

 

(oh yeah, and sorry i look so tired. i got back from my five days in london LAST NIGHT. i've been working 9 - at least 6 every day, having about 7 hours of sleep each day...it's been crazy, but amazing. a good experience for 15 year old me.)

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The Modern Parents is a comic strip from the British comic Viz created by John Fardell who both writes and illustrates it.

 

One of the most enduring and frequent strips in Viz, having appeared regularly since the early 1990s, it is a parody of 'ethically aware' middle-class parents and the new age movement.

 

Similarly to Fardell's other creation, The Critics, it satirises liberal snobbery.

 

On one occasion, the Modern Parents and the Critics appeared in the same strip, each pair mistakenly attending the event intended for the other, though the two strips are generally slightly different in tone and style.

 

Malcolm and Cressida

  

Malcolm and Cressida Wright-Pratt are parents whose obsession with ethical and environmental awareness often works against their basic role as parents to Tarquin and Guinevere.

 

The Modern Parents do not believe in childhood activities such as fairgrounds, fast food restaurants, games, competitions and sports, toys, normal holidays or mainstream school and impose their moral positions on their children and the children of others.

 

They take the moral high-ground because of their ideologies and expect everyone to appreciate their actions, however the two are just as hypocritical as much as they are pretentious (as displayed in one strip when they began a campaign against slavery but then employed unpaid interns to do the work for them).

 

In the March 2008 issue of Viz they visit Uncle Eddie for his daughter Amy's second birthday party and give their niece an ethical gift, which seems (to Eddie) to be a "donation to an Oxfam-funded goat thingy for a starving African family", but turns out to be a donation to their own "Malcolm and Cressida Ethical Living Awareness Project".

 

Tarquin and Guinevere give her a teddy bear to the dismay of Malcolm and Cressida, who declare it to be "an anthropomorphisation of wild animals", "an attempt to brainwash Amy into keeping pets" and "offensive and oppressive to the Sudanese people" (referring to the contemporary Sudanese teddy bear blasphemy case).

 

They then assume Amy will "at least appreciate our effort to reduce the bear's carbon footprint by putting it in the recycle bin" and snatch it from her.

 

Both have large upturned noses. Cressida has her hair pulled back in a tight pony-tail and Malcolm has a scruffy beard and incredibly large teeth.

 

Malcolm and Cressida were not originally married as they believed it to be an outmoded and sexist institution that enslaved women.

 

However, they did eventually marry in order to get their wedding gifts.

 

They had their own pagan ceremony and wrote their own vows ("Do you, Cressida, take Malcolm to be your husband so long as you find acceptable and convenient?")

 

Cressida delights in pointing out that, as a woman, she is an oppressed minority while Malcolm frequently claims he has "Sensitive Persons Syndrome".

 

A committed environmentalist, he insists he supports public transport, but cannot use it himself because his Syndrome prevents him from getting on a bus or train and his Volvo "is Scandinavian, so it must be eco-friendly".

 

The pair often identify themselves with ethnic minorities, claiming to have some Celtic heritage or that they were Native Americans in a previous life.

 

Malcolm and Cressida believe that all humans are equal even to the extent that there is no such thing as immaturity. Tarquin is often greeted by the sight of his parents openly having sexual intercourse (having also previously announced this intention to their kids).

 

Each story finds them forcing their children into some new ethically aware activity that ostensibly encourages a policy of togetherness but ends up with Tarquin and Guinevere often escaping to their much more realist Uncle Eddie (Cressida's brother) who supplies them with ice creams and trips to theme parks.

 

Malcolm has a brother, Oswald, married to Lana (real name Linda), and a neurotic spinster sister, Joy. Oswald and Lana have an extremely snobbish son, Hector James.

 

The family are Conservative and rich, damning the British worker and the foreigner with equal vigour. Malcolm also used to be a keen Young Conservative before meeting Cressida while canvassing.

 

Lured by Cressida into a new world of progressive ideological debate and sex, Malcolm abandoned his dreams of becoming a future Tory Prime Minister and grew a beard.

 

One episode shows Malcolm's lock-up garage where he keeps a motorbike and a topless women calendar on the wall. He goes for a ride on the bike but is injured by Cressida, who does not know it is him and throws a protest sign at the front wheel, throwing him off. Unconscious, he imagines an alternative reality in which he has an attractive wife and is Prime Minister.

 

Another day Cressida takes two ethically-aware friends for a tour of the house and visits Malcolm's computer den. He is caught in the den playing pornographic computer games such as "Death F**k" and "Karate Whores Must Die" whilst leering and salivating wildly.

 

Cressida's family have made few appearances: her mother and father seem to be separated and her mother appears to drink.

 

When Malcolm left her and Tarquin, Cressida wondered what she was going to do for money until Tarquin pointed out that it was always her father who sent her monthly cheques.

 

However her father had taken a new mistress: since this meant he had no money to give to his daughter, Cressida experimented with prostitution.

 

An early Viz character, called Mike Smitt, looks similar to the original form of Malcolm. This character is referred to as a patronising git, as all he does is talk to people as if they are stupid, or point out to the whole street that a girl on crutches is disabled and unable to speak up for herself.

 

Tarquin and Guinevere

  

Tarquin is the elder child, aged about twelve, often the voice of common sense, a very effective foil to Malcolm & Cressida due to his desire for normality or to make money.

 

His diplomatic ability is a means of resistance to parental authority diametrically opposed to their schemes: he is calculating and methodical in his manipulation of Malcolm & Cressida.

 

He has a rational, scientific worldview that rejects vague ideas about spirituality and seems grounded in evidence and deductive reasoning.

 

As a result, he is very sceptical about ideas such as crystal healing or rebirthing, questioning their rational basis, even asking a practitioner of "Wan-Ki": "Where did you get your diploma, University of Mumbo-Jumbo?"

 

When Malcolm & Cressida take him to a "Whole Self Centre", claiming that he suffers from an "erotic shame complex", Tarquin talks of a workshop about discovering the inner child.

 

He gets the attendees to undress and touch each other, dance, and feel each other's bodies while several smartly dressed businessmen queue and pay to watch through the windows. It's a front for a sleazy peep show.

 

Despite his female name, Guinevere is a boy. Wanting to avoid gender stereotyping, Malcolm and Cressida occasionally try to make one or both of their sons wear girls' clothes or take "female" roles in some psychobabble ceremony.

 

Guinevere was born during the course of the comic strip and after growing to his current age of about five or six, stopped there. Tarquin appeared to get older in the early years of Modern Parents and in one episode turned thirteen.

 

Guinevere, whose name is usually just shortened to "Guin" by his brother, is largely a passive character, easily upset, his big brother often coming to his rescue. Guinevere's first word was football although Malcolm and Cressida were keen for it to be dolphin.

 

Other characters

  

Malcolm and Cressida have many friends, notably Ashley and Cordelia in the Ethically Aware Parents Support Group, who, like them, are middle-class, politically correct and often into various causes.

 

Most of them have children who, without exception, have the same despairing and uncooperative attitude towards their parents as Tarquin and Guinevere. Cressida's brother, Edward - more commonly known as simply Uncle Eddie - acts as a counter-weight to his sister and brother-in-law and treats his two nephews, Tarquin and Guinevere, like normal boys.

 

'Guest' characters include Dr Earnest Rabbitt (who is firmly opposed to killing animals) and Professor Ruth Lesscow (an extreme women's rights activist). In earlier episodes of the strip, Tarquin had a friend called Ian, of whom his parents clearly disapproved, and once a girlfriend called Dawn, of whom Malcolm and Cressida thought Tarquin was controlling and possessive.

tribute to miley,she got nothing on me!

Actually I'm kinda conflicted. Part WTFE, no big deal it is a great photo by a great photographer. And, hey you see more at the mall or the beach.

 

But dig deeper and it is a reflection on the sexualization of our youth in a sexualized culture. We have a culture where the objectification of women can still be so rife and the demands placed on very specific and often demeaning forms of beauty and we can almost no longer completely shield our children from sexuality.We paint them and dress them up like women, or worse prostitutes and then complain when they look hot or act like they are grown up..hell they dont know how to be kids anymore.

 

The hypocrosity in our media and culture burns like a raging brush fire..do we have in place the social conditions necessary for healthy psychosexual development'? Or has the modern hypocritical culture if you will, expanded or digressed through the vastly increased sexualization of our culture?

Recently a lady who is a new believer asked me, “I am not a virgin—I had sexual relationships before I became a Christian which was a couple of years ago. In high school they encouraged girls to lose their virginity and engage in sexual activity and I fell for it, but now I regret it. As a Christian man, what’s your take on this? Would you marry a woman who is not a virgin?”

 

I was taken back by the question because as an Iraqi man the answer in my head was a clear, “No, I will not marry a non-virgin.” But of course I had to pass my thoughts through the filter of God’s Word because I am not defined as a Middle Eastern man—my identity is in Christ because I am Christian first and foremost. So I had to evaluate the question and subject matter through God’s Word: I asked myself, “What does God’s Word teach on this?” For three decades I thought I knew the answer to this question, but when I viewed the topic through God’s Word I came to a different conclusion.

 

God does not see us as non-virgins vs virgins; He sees us as lost or saved. We are either His enemies: we do not believe in Him and we do not honour Him as God and live in rebellion against His good will—that is our sins have separated us from Him and we are lost and doomed to eternal damnation in Hell. Or, we are His children: we believe in Him as our heavenly Father and we honour Him as God by living according to His good will—that is our sins have been forgiven through the blood of His Son Jesus Christ who reconciled us to God and we are saved and will spend eternity in Heaven.

 

For me to put people who had engaged in pre-marital sex in a secluded category even after they are saved and are born-again is a hypocritical attitude. If I claim that God’s grace is sufficient to cover all sins—that there are no sins our Lord’s blood cannot pay for—then how can I single out those who had engaged in sexual immorality but now are born-again as being “untouchable”. And if I do not consider them “untouchable” then why can’t I marry a non-virgin?

 

I hear a lot of people say, “I have forgiven but I can’t forget”. Well, according to the Bible it does not work this way. According to the Bible: forgiveness equals forgetting. When God forgave our sins He did not say, “I can’t trust her with this task for the cause of My kingdom because even though I have forgiven her I haven’t forgotten her past sins! What if she goes back to her sins?” We do not keep falling in and out of God’s family; once we are adopted by Him as His children then our names are written in the Book of Life. When we repent of our sins and trust in Jesus Christ as our Lord and Saviour we receive the gift of the Holy Spirit and we are born-again, that is: we are sealed by the Holy Spirit to finish the work He started at salvation which is conforming us to the likeness of our Lord, Jesus Christ.

 

Forgiveness comes easy if you truly understand God’s forgiveness for your sins. God has forgiven you your sins with no works required from your end, and therefore you have eternal life—you will never see spiritual death and never have to go to hell! Here is how I think about it: for the price of forgiving another person I have ALL my trespasses forgiven! If you ask me, that is a pretty good deal!

 

“For if you forgive other people when they sin against you, your heavenly Father will also forgive you. But if you do not forgive others their sins, your Father will not forgive your sins.” (Matthew 6:14-15)

 

Interestingly, forgiving others has a lot more to do with your sins against God than their sins against you. See, if you truly understand the wickedness of your heart and how much your sins have separated you from God and the consequences of your sins (not only in this life but for eternity), then you will truly understand God’s forgiveness for you. Once you understand the depravity of your sins you will truly appreciate God’s forgiveness, then forgiving others will become much easier. Would you not forget your friend’s $5 debt he owes you if in return the bank forgets the $500,000 mortgage on your house? Of course you would! That is exactly how God views our unforgiven attitude toward others: You want Him to forgive ALL your sins but you are unwilling to forgive this one thing your brother and sister-in-Christ did! We do not forgive because we do not understand God’s forgiveness for us.

 

“Then the master called the servant in. ‘You wicked servant,’ he said, ‘I cancelled all that debt of yours because you begged me to. Shouldn't you have had mercy on your fellow servant just as I had on you? In anger his master handed him over to the jailers to be tortured, until he should pay back all he owed. “This is how my heavenly Father will treat each of you unless you forgive your brother or sister from your heart.” (Matthew 18:32-35)

 

Besides, people don’t sin against you: they sin against God. You did not write God’s laws in the human conscious, you did not send the Law to Moses, and you did not send the Holy Spirit to convict of sin! If someone committed a criminal act towards you and you forgave them, the court will not just let them go free just because you forgave them. No, the offender will stand trial in the court of law because he broke the law of the land by committing a criminal act; this has nothing to do with you. So it is when we sin against others: we need to make amends with God as well as with the party we offended. And if someone made amends with God through Jesus Christ for sins in his or her past, who are we to still hold them accountable? We often hear freed convicts say “I did the time” as if to say: I paid my dues and now I am free both physically and from judgement. If our Lord Jesus Christ “did the time” for someone by paying their dues on the Cross, who are we to hold them prisoners?

 

We show our unforgiveness not necessary in words and actions but sometimes in attitudes: we withhold love, kindness, and opportunities. And this unforgiveness has little to do with God’s Word because as far as God is considered they are a new creation, but it has everything to do with the culture, traditions, and popular opinions in society, home, and even the church we grow up in! God saves those with obvious past sins the same way he saves us with no obvious past sins; Jesus had to die to save even one single person from one sin. Jesus Christ had to die to save those with and without tattoos and piercings, those with and without past sexual immorality, those with and without past drug addictions.

 

Those who are saved are a new creation in Christ. They are not updated, upgraded, improved or enhanced humans! We are not less sinners—no, we are saints! We are not less dead in our sins and trespasses—no, we are alive with Christ! We are not a better creation—no, we are a new creation! When Christ died He did not rise to the same body He had before His death, so it is with us: when we died and rose with Christ we did not receive the same spirit as before coming to Christ. So how can we look at a saved person and instead of seeing the new person we still see their dead sinful nature? How can we look at a saved person and instead of trusting their new heart of flesh we still doubt their old heart of stone?

 

“Therefore, if anyone is in Christ, the new creation has come: The old has gone, the new is here!” (2 Corinthians 5:17)

 

“I will give you a new heart and put a new spirit in you; I will remove from you your heart of stone and give you a heart of flesh.” (Ezekiel 36:26)

 

As an Iraqi man my heart’s attitude was that of the Pharisees: “Teacher, this woman was caught in the act of adultery. In the Law Moses commanded us to stone such women. Now what do you say?” (John 8:4-5) The only difference is that the Pharisees actually asked the Lord’s opinion (regardless of their motives), but I saw fit to think that I knew it all! If the Lord says to someone: “Then neither do I condemn you,” Jesus declared. “Go now and leave your life of sin.” (John 8:11) Then who am I to condemn them?

 

In the end the answer I gave that lady was not the answer of the old sinful Fadi but of the new creation in Christ Fadi.

 

(Toronto, ON; winter 2014.)

Stephen William Bragg (born 20 December 1957) is an English singer-songwriter and left-wing activist. His music blends elements of folk music, punk rock and protest songs, with lyrics that mostly span political or romantic themes. His music is heavily centred on bringing about change and involving the younger generation in activist causes.

Early life[edit]

Bragg was born in 1957 in Barking, Essex (which is now in Greater London)[2] to Dennis Frederick Austin Bragg, an assistant sales manager to a Barking cap maker and milliner, and his wife Marie Victoria D'Urso, who was of Italian descent.[3] Bragg's father died of lung cancer in 1976,[4] and his mother died in 2011.[5]

Bragg was educated at Northbury Junior School and Park Modern Secondary School (now part of Barking Abbey Secondary School[6]) in Barking. He failed his eleven-plus exam, effectively precluding him from going to university.[7] However he developed an interest in poetry at the age of twelve, when his English teacher chose him to read a poem he had written for a homework assignment on a local radio station.[8] He put his energies into learning and practising the guitar with his next-door neighbour, Philip Wigg (Wiggy); some of their influences were the Faces, Small Faces and the Rolling Stones. He was also exposed to folk and folk-rock music during his teenage years, citing Simon & Garfunkel and Bob Dylan as early influences on his songwriting.[8]

During the rise of punk rock and new wave in the late 1970s, Elvis Costello also served as an inspiration for Bragg.[9] He was also particularly influenced by the Clash, whom he'd seen play live in London in May 1977 on their White Riot Tour, and again at a Rock Against Racism carnival in April 1978, which he admits was the first time he really stepped into the world of music as it is used for political activism.[10] The experience of the gig and preceding march helped shape Bragg's left-wing politics, having previously "turned a blind eye" to casual racism.[10]

Career[edit]

Early career[edit]

In 1977 Bragg formed the punk rock/pub rock band Riff Raff with Wiggy. The band decamped to rural Oundle in Northamptonshire in 1978 to record a series of singles (the first on independent Chiswick Records) which did not receive wide exposure. After a period of gigging in Northamptonshire and London, they returned to Barking and split in 1980.[11] Taking a series of odd jobs including working at Guy Norris' record shop in Barking high street, Bragg became disillusioned with his stalled music career and in May 1981 joined the British Army as a recruit destined for the Queen's Royal Irish Hussars of the Royal Armoured Corps. After completing three months' basic training, he bought himself out for £175 and returned home.[12]

Bragg peroxided his hair to mark a new phase in his life and began performing frequent concerts and busking around London, playing solo with an electric guitar under the name Spy vs Spy (after the strip in Mad magazine).[13]

 

His demo tape initially got no response from the record industry, but by pretending to be a television repair man, he got into the office of Charisma Records' A&R man Peter Jenner.[14] Jenner liked the tape, but the company was near bankruptcy and had no budget to sign new artists. Bragg got an offer to record more demos for music publisher Chappell & Co., so Jenner agreed to release them as a record. Life's a Riot with Spy vs Spy (credited to Billy Bragg) was released in July 1983 by Charisma's new imprint, Utility. Hearing DJ John Peel mention on-air that he was hungry, Bragg rushed to the BBC with a mushroom biryani, so Peel played a song from Life's a Riot with Spy vs Spy albeit at the wrong speed (since the 12" LP was, unconventionally, cut to play at 45rpm). Peel insisted he would have played the song even without the biryani and later played it at the correct speed.[14]

Within months Charisma had been taken over by Virgin Records and Jenner, who had been made redundant, became Bragg's manager. Stiff Records' press officer Andy Macdonald – who was setting up his own record label, Go! Discs – received a copy of Life's a Riot with Spy vs Spy. He made Virgin an offer and the album was re-released on Go! Discs in November 1983, at the fixed low price of £2.99.[15] Around this time, Andy Kershaw, an early supporter at Radio Aire in Leeds, was employed by Jenner as Bragg's tour manager. (He later became a BBC DJ and TV presenter, and he and Bragg appeared in an episode of the BBC TV programme Great Journeys in 1989, in which they travelled the Silver Road from Potosí, Bolivia, to the Pacific coast at Arica, Chile.)[16]

Though never released as a Bragg single, album track and live favourite "A New England", with an additional verse, became a Top 10 hit in the UK for Kirsty MacColl in January 1985. Since MacColl's early death, Bragg always sings the extra verse live in her honour.[17]

In 1984, he released Brewing Up with Billy Bragg, a mixture of political songs (e.g. "It Says Here") and songs of unrequited love (e.g. "The Saturday Boy"). This was followed in 1985 by Between the Wars, an EP of political songs that included a cover version of Leon Rosselson's "The World Turned Upside Down". The EP made the Top 20 of the UK Singles Chart and earned Bragg an appearance on Top of the Pops, singing the title track. Bragg later collaborated with Rosselson on the song "Ballad of a Spycatcher".[18]

In the same year, he embarked on his first tour of North America, with Wiggy as tour manager, supporting Echo & the Bunnymen.[19] The tour began in Washington D.C. and ended in Los Angeles. On the same trip, in New York, Bragg unveiled his "Portastack",[20] a self-contained, mobile PA system weighing 35 lbs (designed for £500 by engineer Kenny Jones), the wearing of which became an archetypal image of the singer at that time. With it, he was able to busk outside the New Music Seminar, a record industry conference.[21]

Late 1980s and early 1990s[edit]

In 1986 Bragg released Talking with the Taxman About Poetry, which became his first Top 10 album. Its title is taken from a poem by Vladimir Mayakovsky and a translated version of the poem was printed on the record's inner sleeve. Back to Basics is a 1987 collection of his first three releases: Life's a Riot with Spy vs Spy, Brewing Up with Billy Bragg, and Between the Wars. He enjoyed his only Number 1 hit single in May 1988, a cover of the Beatles' "She's Leaving Home", a shared A-side with Wet Wet Wet's "With a Little Help from My Friends". Both were taken from a multi-artist re-recording of Sgt. Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club Band titled Sgt. Pepper Knew My Father coordinated by the NME in aid of the charity Childline. Wet Wet Wet's cover dominated radio airplay and its video was shown over three consecutive weeks on Top of the Pops; in week four, Bragg went on the programme to play his cover, with regular accompanist Cara Tivey on piano.[22]

Bragg released his fourth album, Workers Playtime, in September 1988. With this album, Bragg added a full backing band and accompaniment, including Tivey on piano, Danny Thompson on double bass and veteran Micky Waller on drums. Wiggy earned a co-production credit with Joe Boyd.[23]

In August 1989 Bragg took lead vocal on the ‘Levi Stubbs’ Tears’ sampling Norman Cook's UK top 40 hit "Won’t Talk About It", which was a double-A-side with "Blame It On the Bassline". The track was a bigger hit a year later with Lindy Layton replacing Bragg as lead vocal.[citation needed]

In May 1990 Bragg released the political mini-LP The Internationale on his and Jenner's own short-lived label Utility, which operated independently of Go! Discs, to which Bragg was still contracted. The songs were, in part, a return to his solo guitar style, but some featured more complicated arrangements and included a brass band. The album paid tribute to one of Bragg's influences with the song, "I Dreamed I Saw Phil Ochs Last Night", which is an adapted version of Earl Robinson's song, "I Dreamed I Saw Joe Hill Last Night", itself an adaptation of a poem by Alfred Hayes.[24] Though the album only reached Number 34 in the UK Charts, Bragg described it as "a reassertion of my rights as an individual ... and a childish two fingers [to Go! Discs boss Andy Macdonald, who'd recently signed a distribution deal with entertainment industry giant PolyGram]."[25]

His sixth studio album Don't Try This at Home was recorded in the shadow of the build-up to the Gulf War and subsequent ground war, inspiring the track "Rumours of War". Although there is social comment ("The Few", "North Sea Bubble"), it was intended as a more commercial pop album, released in September 1991. (Bragg called it "a very long-range attempt to convert the ball between the posts."[26]). The first single was the upbeat "Sexuality", which, despite an accessible video and a dance remix on the B-side, only reached Number 27 on the UK Singles Chart. Following overtures by rival label Chrysalis, Bragg and Jenner had been persuaded by Go! Discs' Andy and Juliet Macdonald to sign a four-album deal for a million pound advance; in return he would promote the album with singles and videos.[27] A more commercial sound and aggressive marketing had no appreciable effect on album sales, and after a grueling, 13-month world tour with a full band (the Red Stars, led by Wiggy), and a period of forced convalescence after appendicitis, Bragg left Go! Discs in summer 1992, paying back the remainder of his advance in return for all rights to his back catalogue.[28]

Late 1990s and 2000s[edit]

Bragg released the album William Bloke in 1996 after taking time off to help new partner Juliet Wills raise their son Jack. (There is a reference to him in the track "Brickbat": "Now you'll find me with the baby, in the bathroom.")[29] After the ambitious instrumentation of Don't Try This at Home, it was a simpler record, musically, more personal and even spiritual, lyrically (its title a pun on the name of 18th-century English poet William Blake, who is referenced in the song "Upfield").[30]

Around that time, Nora Guthrie (daughter of American folk artist Woody Guthrie) asked Bragg to set some of her father's unrecorded lyrics to music. The result was a collaboration with the band Wilco and Natalie Merchant (with whom Bragg had worked previously). They released the album Mermaid Avenue in 1998,[31] and Mermaid Avenue Vol. II in 2000.[32] The first album was nominated for a Grammy in the Best Contemporary Folk Album category. A third batch, Mermaid Avenue Vol III, and The Complete Sessions followed in 2012 to mark Woody Guthrie's centennial.[33] A rift with Wilco over mixing and sequencing the first album led to Bragg recruiting his own band, The Blokes, to promote the album live. The Blokes included keyboardist Ian McLagan, who had been a member of Bragg's boyhood heroes The Faces. The documentary film Man in the Sand depicts the roles of Nora Guthrie, Bragg, and Wilco in the creation of the Mermaid Avenue albums.[34]

A developing interest in English national identity, driven by the rise of the BNP and his own move from London to rural Dorset in 1999, informed his 2002 album England, Half-English (whose single, "Take Down The Union Jack" put him back on Top of the Pops in the Queen's Golden Jubilee year[35]) and his 2006 book The Progressive Patriot. The book expressed his view that English socialists can reclaim patriotism from the right wing. He draws on Victorian poet Rudyard Kipling for an inclusive sense of Englishness.[36] In 2007 Bragg moved closer to his English folk music roots by joining the WOMAD-inspired collective The Imagined Village, who recorded an album of updated versions of traditional English songs and dances and toured through that autumn.[37]

In December Bragg previewed tracks from his forthcoming album Mr. Love & Justice at a one-off evening of music and conversation to mark his 50th birthday at London's South Bank.[38] The album was released in March 2008, the second Bragg album to be named after a book by Colin MacInnes after England, Half-English.[39][40] The same year, during the NME Awards ceremony, Bragg sang a duet with British solo act Kate Nash. They mixed up two of their greatest hits, Nash playing "Foundations", and Bragg redoing "A New England".[41] Also in 2008, Bragg played a small role in Stuart Bamforth's film A13: Road Movie.[42]

In 2009, Bragg was invited by London's South Bank to write new lyrics for "Ode to Joy", the final movement of Beethoven's Ninth Symphony (original libretto by Friedrich Schiller), since adopted as an international anthem of unity. The London Philharmonic Orchestra performed it at the Royal Festival Hall in front of the Queen and Bragg met her afterwards to earn "brownie points" with his mother, also in attendance.[43]

2010s[edit]

He was involved in the play Pressure Drop at the Wellcome Collection in London in April and May 2010. The production, written by Mick Gorden, and billed as "part play, part gig, part installation", featured new songs by Bragg. He performed during the play with his band, and acted as compere.[44]

Bragg was invited by Michael Eavis to curate the Leftfield stage at Glastonbury Festival in 2010,[45] which he has continued to do in subsequent years.[46] He also took part in the Bush Theatre's 2011 project Sixty-Six Books, where he wrote a piece based upon a book of the King James Bible.[47] Bragg performed a set of the Guthrie songs that he had set to music for Mermaid Avenue during the Hay Literary Festival in June 2012,[48] he also performed the same set on the Friday night of the 2012 Cambridge Folk Festival.[49]

On 18 March 2013, five years after Mr. Love & Justice, Bragg released the studio album Tooth & Nail. Recorded in five days at the home studio of musician/producer Joe Henry in South Pasadena it featured 11 original songs, including one written for the Bush Theatre and a Woody Guthrie cover. Stylistically, it continued to explore genres of Americana and Alternative country, a natural progression since Mermaid Avenue.[50][51] The album was a commercial success, becoming his best charting record since 1991's Don't Try This at Home.[52]

  

Bragg with Joe Henry at the Union Chapel, Islington.

In February 2014, Bragg started a series of "radio shows" on Spotify, in which he talked listeners through self-curated playlists of "his favourite tracks and artists, and uncovering some little-known musical gems."[53] On 14 April 2014, Bragg put out Live at the Union Chapel, a souvenir album and DVD of a show he played on 5 June 2013 at the Union Chapel in London, featuring songs from Tooth & Nail as well as favourites from his back catalogue.[54]

In February 2016, Bragg was given the Trailblazer Award at the inaugural Americana Music Association UK Awards in London.[55] Following that, in September he was given the Spirit of Americana Free Speech Award at the Americana Music Association US Awards in Nashville.[56]

In August 2016, Bragg released his eleventh album, a collaboration with Joe Henry, Shine a Light: Field Recordings from the Great American Railroad, recorded at various points on a journey between Chicago and Los Angeles by train in March. It reached number 28 in the UK Album Charts[57] and number one in the UK Americana album chart.[58] The pair started a dual Shine a Light tour at the Americana Music Festival in Nashville in September 2016, and taking them across the States and Canada, the United Kingdom and Ireland. In April 2017, they played in Australia.

Faber published Bragg's second nonfiction book (after 2006's The Progressive Patriot), Roots, Radicals and Rockers in June 2016, a history of the British skiffle movement, tracing the form from its 1950s boom back to ragtime, blues, jazz and American folk music. On BBC Music Day 2017, he helped unveil a blue plaque marking the studio (Trident) where the late David Bowie recorded two classic albums and the single Space Oddity, in Soho; he joined album sleeve designer George Underwood and BBC Radio London’s Robert Elms.[59] In November, he released all six tracks from the mini-album Bridges Not Walls as downloads through the Billy Bragg website,[60] followed by the single Full English Brexit through Cooking Vinyl.

In April 2018, Bragg was invited to deliver a Bank of England Flagship Seminar; his presentation was titled Accountability: the Antidote to Authoritarianism. The speech was made available on the Bank of England's website.[61] At the Ivor Novello Awards (the Ivors) in May, he accepted the PRS Outstanding Contribution to British Music award.[62] Also in May, his official biography Still Suitable for Miners was published in a new, 20th anniversary updated edition.[63]

He ended 2018 touring New Zealand and Australia. In Auckland, he road-tested a new live format for 2019 (first tried out in Toronto), One Step Forward, Two Steps Back. The idea was to play three consecutive shows over three nights at each venue: the first night a current, mixed Bragg set; the second from his first three albums; the third from his second three albums. "It’s a way of keeping things interesting," he said.[64] The tour would cover the United States and the UK and Ireland throughout 2019.

In May, Faber and Faber published The Three Dimensions of Freedom, a short polemic by Bragg intended, according to the publisher's blurb, to "protect ourselves from encroaching tyranny." The author urges readers to "look beyond [the] one-dimensional notion of what it means to be free" and "by reconnecting liberty to equality and accountability, restore ... the three dimensions of freedom."[65]

Politics and activism[edit]

For all of Bragg's 30-year-plus recording career he has been involved with grassroots, broadly leftist, political movements, and this is often reflected in his lyrics. He has also recorded and performed cover versions of famous socialist anthems such as "The Internationale" and "The Red Flag". Bragg said in an interview: "I don't mind being labelled a political songwriter. The thing that troubles me is being dismissed as a political songwriter."[66] Bragg has cited the Clash as a strong influence on his politically themed material and activism:

It wasn't so much their lyrics as what they stood for and the actions they took. That became really important to me. Phil Collins might write a song about the homeless, but if he doesn't have the action to go with it he's just exploiting that for a subject. I got that from the Clash, and I try to remain true to that tradition as best I can.[67]

From 1983 to 1997[edit]

Bragg's politics were focused by the Conservative Party's 144-seat majority landslide at the 1983 general election. He told his biographer, "By 1983, the scales had fallen from my eyes."[68] His record label boss Andy Macdonald observed that "his presence onstage took on more of the avenging angel."[69] Bragg was at the forefront of music's influence on the 1984 miners' strike, and played many benefit gigs in towns close to coalfields such as Newport and Sunderland.[70] He also released an EP during this year titled "Between the Wars", which connected struggles of class solidarity to the present issue. This single was his most successful up until this point, reaching number 15 on the charts.[71] The following year, after playing a short Labour Party-sponsored Jobs For Youth tour, he joined other like-minded activists in the public eye to form the musicians' alliance Red Wedge, which promoted Labour's cause – and in turn lobbied the party on youth issues – in the run-up to the 1987 general election,[72] with a national tour in 1986 alongside The Style Council, Jerry Dammers and The Communards.

Bragg travelled twice to the Soviet Union in 1986, the year Mikhail Gorbachev started to promote the policies of perestroika and glasnost. He played a gig in Leningrad, and the Festival of Song in the Struggle for Peace in Kyiv.[73]

 

On 12 June 1987, the night after Labour lost that year's general election, Bragg appeared on a notable edition of the Channel 4 discussion programme After Dark, alongside David Selbourne, Teresa Gorman and Hilary Hook among others. The Independent wrote "A show called Is Britain Working? brought together victorious Tory MP Teresa Gorman; ...Helen from the Stonehenge Convoy; old colonialist Colonel Hilary Hook... and Adrian, one of the jobless. It was a perfect example of the chemistry you can get. There were unlikely alliances (Bragg and Hook)".[74] Later Gorman "stormed off the set, claiming she had been misled about the nature of the programme"[75] "She told...Bragg: 'You and your kind are finished. We are the future now.'"[76] Bragg said "I sing in smokey rooms every night and I can keep talking for far longer than you can Teresa".[77] Bragg explained later: "She was so smug. And because she was Essex I took it personally. Then she accused me of being a fine example of Thatcherism."[78]

From 2010 to 2014[edit]

In the 2010 general election, Bragg supported the Liberal Democrats because "they've got the best manifesto".[88]

Bragg was also very active in his hometown of Barking as part of Searchlight magazine's Hope not Hate campaign, where the BNP's leader Nick Griffin was standing for election. At one point during the campaign Bragg squared up to BNP London Assembly Member Richard Barnbrook, calling him a "Fascist racist" and saying "when you're gone from this borough, we will rebuild this community". The BNP came third on election day.[89]

In January 2011, news sources reported that 20 to 30 residents of Bragg's Dorset village, Burton Bradstock, had received anonymous letters viciously attacking him and his politics, and urging residents to oppose him in the village. He claimed that a BNP supporter was behind the letters, which argued that Bragg is a hypocrite for advocating socialism while living a wealthy lifestyle, and referred to him as anti-British and pro-immigration.[90]

In July 2011 Bragg joined the growing protests over the News of the World phone hacking affair with the release of his "Never Buy the Sun" single, which references many of the scandal's key points including the Milly Dowler case, police bribes and associated political fallout. It also draws on the 22-year Liverpool boycott of The Sun for their coverage of the Hillsborough disaster.[91]

In October 2011, Bragg joined the Occupy Movement protests in the City of London.[92]

In 2013, despite his scathing criticism of Margaret Thatcher, he urged people not to celebrate the death of the former Conservative Prime Minister:

The death of Margaret Thatcher is nothing more than a salient reminder of how Britain got into the mess that we are in today. Of why ordinary working people are no longer able to earn enough from one job to support a family; of why there is a shortage of decent affordable housing... of why cynicism and greed became the hallmarks of our society. Raising a glass to the death of an infirm old lady changes none of this. The only real antidote to cynicism is activism. Don't celebrate – organise![93]

In 2014, Bragg joined the March in March anti-government protests[94] in Sydney, Australia.

In June 2014, Bragg joined other musicians (including Radiohead's Ed O'Brien) in backing a call for the EU to intervene in a dispute between YouTube and independent labels. According to a BBC News report, the video-streaming site was offering "non-negotiable contracts" to its planned, Spotify-like music-subscription service to labels such as XL Recordings, 4AD, Cooking Vinyl and Domino "accompanied by the threat that music videos they have posted to their YouTube channels will be blocked from site altogether if they do not agree to the terms."[95]

Bragg supports both Scottish and Welsh independence.[96] In 2014, after David Bowie spoke in favour of Scotland remaining part of the UK, Bragg said, "Bowie's intervention encourages people in England to discuss the issues of the independence referendum, and I think English people should be discussing it, so I welcome his intervention."[97] Bragg was a vocal supporter of Scottish independence during the campaign prior to the referendum on 18 September 2014. Bragg wrote an article for the Guardian publication on 16 September, in which he addressed the objections he had previously received from people who conflated Scottish nationalism with the far-right ethos of the BNP. He described the independence campaign as "civic nationalism" and his opinion piece concluded:

Support for Scottish self-determination might not fit neatly into any leftwing pigeonhole, but it does chime with an older progressive tradition that runs deep in English history – a dogged determination to hold the over-mighty to account. If, during the constitutional settlement that will follow the referendum, we in England can rediscover our Roundhead tradition, we might yet counter our historic weakness for ethnic nationalism with an outpouring of civic engagement that creates a fairer society for all.[98]

2015 to present[edit]

Bragg was one of several celebrities who endorsed the parliamentary candidacy of the Green Party's Caroline Lucas at the 2015 general election.[99] In August 2015, Bragg endorsed Jeremy Corbyn's campaign in the Labour Party leadership election. He said: "His [Corbyn's] success so far shows you how bland our politics have become, in the aim of winning those swing voters in middle England the Labour Party has lost touch with its roots. We live in a time of austerity and what you want from that is not more austerity, you want compassion."[100] On an edition of Question Time in October 2015, he said that Corbyn represents a political "urge for change" and that Ed Miliband had failed to win the 2015 general election because Miliband and the party followed "the old way of doing things".[101] In 2016, Bragg, along with numerous other celebrities, toured the UK to support Corbyn's bid to become Prime Minister.[102][103] He also voiced his support for Remain in the 2016 EU referendum.[104]

In August 2016, The Times reported that at the Edinburgh Book Festival, Bragg had said: "I worry about Jeremy that he's a kind of twentieth century Labour man", and that "we need to be reaching out to people". Described as a "previously loyal supporter", who has "lent his support to Mr Corbyn on numerous occasions since he became Labour leader", The Times quoted Bragg: "I don't have a simple answer. My hope is that the party does not split and that we resolve this stalemate". Corbyn at the time was campaigning in an enforced second leadership election in the summer of 2016.[105]

After The Times article appeared, the singer tweeted that he had "joined the long list of people stitched up by the Murdoch papers"[106] and accused the Times of "twisting my words to attack Corbyn", urging "don’t let Murdoch sow discord".[107] The Guardian reproduced a quote from a recording of the event absent from The Times article: "It's a challenge. Labour has fires to fight on different fronts. This would be happening even without Corbyn if any of the other candidates had won last year, these problems would still be there".[106] In August 2016, Bragg also endorsed Jeremy Corbyn's campaign in the Labour Party leadership election.[108]

During the general election campaign in May 2017, Bragg added his signature to a letter published in The Guardian calling for Labour to withdraw its candidates in two constituencies; Brighton Pavilion and the Isle of Wight and potentially allowing the Green Party to defeat the Tories in both, where Labour were running second. The letter was also signed by Labour MP Clive Lewis, former policy chief Jon Cruddas, former shadow children's minister Tulip Siddiq and journalists Paul Mason and Owen Jones. The initiative was shut down by Jeremy Corbyn.[109]

In June 2019, Bragg publicly criticised fellow singer-songwriter Morrissey for his recent political comments and endorsement of a far-right political party, and accused him of dragging the legacy of Johnny Marr and the Smiths "through the dirt".[110]

In November 2019, Bragg endorsed the Labour Party in the 2019 general election.[111]

 

Lizzy: you wanted to see me, mayor?

Hancock: word is, you're cleaning up the streets of Good Neighbor. that's something I can appreciate, but you really pissed off a guy named Sinjin. he leads gangs of Raiders

Lizzy: a guy leads Raiders? I thought they were all feminist nutjobs

Hancock: yeah, an army of them. he's a Ghoul like me. people of that cause from my days before the war weren't exactly opposed to being hypocrites. you'll want to take out his underbosses too. Smiling Kate leads some Raiders, and Northy leads some idiots dressing like mafia gangsters

Coca Cola vending machine front outside Needful Things, an antique furniture and art business, in St James’s Street, Kemp Town, Brighton, East Sussex.

 

Needful Things is the name of Stephen King novel and film.

 

The kitsch shop is like a splendid part of the Addams Family mansion plonked down onto the street.

 

The local council claim that the shop does not have planning permission for the style of front door, (and would not gain it, even if applied for).

 

There appears to be a hypocritical element in the local council's attitude. In the same street an unlicensed Starbucks has been the focus of protesters as it has been operating for some time despite not having the appropriate planning permission.

15/09/1949

King's Rhapsody (Musical Romance)

 

Ann Carson - Maid

Anne Pinder - Olga Varsov

Arnott Mader - Albanian Groom

Denis Martin - Count Egon Stanieff, Serenader

Douglas Orr - Manservant

Edgar Elmes - Serenader

Eric Sutherland - Major Domo

Gawn Grainger - Boy King

Gordon Duttson - Tormas

Harry Fergusson - Manservant

Irene Claire - Albanian Bride

Jack Buchanan - Nikki

Jacqueline Le Geyt - Madame Koska

John Palmer - Mr. Trotzen

Joyce Hartwell - Gypsy Queen

Larry Mandon - 3rd Revolutionary, Serenader

Leon Biedrycki - Tartar Chief

Melville Denham - Serenader

Michael Anthony - Jules, Volkoff, 1st Revolutionary, Archbishop

Micheal Stoller -Serenader

Olive Gilbert - Countess Vera Lemainken

Pamela Harrington - Princess Kirsten

Penny Jones - 3rd Revolutionary

Phyllis Dare - Marta Karillos

Robert Andrews - Vanescu

Tom Gillis - 2nd Revolutionary

Trisha Colbourne - Georgian Girl

Vanessa Lee - Princess Cristaine

Victor Boggetti - King Peter of Norseland

Wendy Warren - Princess Hulda

Zena Dare - Queen Elana of Murania

  

Ivor Novello

 

Ivor was born January 14th 1893 to accountant David Davies and Welsh singer Madame Novello Davies. The child was named David Ivor after his father, though was known as Ivor from an early age.

 

When Ivor was five months old his mother was to travel to America for the World’s Fair to represent Wales with her Ladies Choir. Her group won first prize and much acclaim in America, soon finding much demand for them to tour. She was then asked to give a command performance for the Queen, which further enhanced her reputation. Ivor grew up in an environment filled with music and many celebrities associated in the field such as the great singer Clara Butt.

 

The first time Ivor sang in public was when his mother prompted him unwillingly forward before a host of friends at a party before another tour of America.

 

His mother became widely recognised as an accomplished teacher and travelled to London to instruct classes on a regular basis. On one particular trip Ivor accompanied her and saw his first West End play entitled “English Nell”. He was inspired by this new entertainment and he was further inspired to complete his studies and start his own puppet theatre to entertain friends.

 

In 1903 Ivor went to the National Eisteddfod at Aberystwyth, a competition for Welsh Opera. His mother entered him under the name Ivor Cardiff so as not to risk prejudice in the judging procedure. The ten-year-old boy won first prize. His identity revealed, Madame Clara was once again congratulated upon producing another successful student. Ivor was never short of company as he was constantly surrounded by all manner of people from the art world as well as having an adopted sister, whom his mother called Marie Novello.

 

Ivor was schooled at a private academy in Cardiff, where he made his first appearance, in the pantomime “Aladdin”. Interested in all things musical, Ivor obtained his first gramophone at the age of twelve and along with his piano, it became a favourite as he listened to the great singers of the day.

 

He then left for Gloucester where he studied for a period under one of his mother’s friends Mrs Arthur Sly. At this point Ivor was enamoured with a girl named Dorothy Jones, who lived at Longford House, Gloucester. The house had a private theatre attached and it was here that Ivor played his first real acting part as Sir Peter Teazle in Sheridan’s “The School for Scandal”. The experience was so enjoyable that Ivor decided there and then that one day he would become an actor.

 

Initially it was Ivor’s voice which sent him to Magdalen College on a Scholarship in 1903. Ivor sang solo in the choir there for five years. At the age of 16 and a half his voice broke and a career in singing was left behind with his childhood.

 

Ivor had been busy composing and after many attempts Arthur Boosey, a London music producer, accepted a song entitled “Spring of the Year”, a waltz. The piece, published under the name Ivor Novello, was not a great success but convinced Ivor that it was a path he wished to pursue. With much practise, Ivor improved and further pieces became well recognised, such as “Little Damozel”. Upon leaving school he went to live at his mother’s London home.

 

As he matured, Ivor became strikingly handsome with his dark hair, brown eyes complimented by a pale complexion. At one time he was described as “the handsomest man in Britain”.

 

The thought of acting had never left his mind and Ivor yearned to take to the stage, spending his money on attending as many shows as possible at Daly's and the Gaiety Theatre. This was in spite of his mother who was firmly opposed to the idea and only wished him progress further with composing.

 

Ivor produced his first musical comedy called “The Fickle Jade”, which was not very successful, but he was able to meet many other young composers and gain valuable experience. In 1910 Ivor heard his first piece of music to be performed by an orchestra at the Crystal Palace, which gave him a huge thrill.

 

The following year Ivor visited America for the first time and after recent successes, Ivor was charged with writing the music for a pageant with which to tour Canada, but the project fell through financially. Ivor had written many pieces of music but was able to visit New York and the Metropolitan Opera House not to mention the many theatres.

 

Before leaving New York, Ivor acquired a small dog named Wudge. When he was about to leave for England on the "Empress of Ireland", Ivor could not find the dog anywhere; being a sensitive soul he missed his voyage so that he may find the dog, which he found back at his apartment. Meanwhile the ship was rammed and sunk in thick fog, with the loss of 950 lives.

 

When he returned later to England, Ivor was determined to recreate the successes he had seen in New York. By 1914 Novello had produced some fairly successful musical pieces and they were being regularly performed by some of Madame Clara's pupils, including his adopted sister Marie.

 

In August of 1914 war broke out and Ivor composed work with a patriotic flavour. With Lena Ford, an American poet who wrote the words (with exception of the new piece’s title) he wrote "Keep the Home Fires Burning". It was a song that changed Ivor’s life overnight as its success spanned the length and breadth of the Britain and America. Ivor was still only 21 years old.

 

Ivor soon attained a commission in the Royal Naval Air Service as Flight Sub-Lieutenant. Song-writing had to take a back seat. “Keep the Home Fires Burning” meanwhile was going from strength to strength, widely published and Novello became a celebrity. It became a call to arms and fed patriotism, inspiring people to take up arms against German Imperialism.

 

Novello was a great entertainer as well and held many gatherings at his flat on the Strand, meeting regularly with many creative talents such as a young Noel Coward. As the war continued and the Americans entered the conflict, Ivor’s romantic notions of being a pilot were dashed when he had two crashes in 1916. He took an office job, which he disliked, but it did enable him to work upon his composing more. He enjoyed some success during this period and saw several pieces reach the West End.

 

During the climax of the war Ivor was sent to Sweden to help suppress the popularity of German cabaret in Stockholm. He was a great success but whilst there, Armistice was declared and he missed the fevered celebrations at home. When he did finally return home he found that a dear friend Billie Carleton had died. Hence, even though Ivor was a financial success, he felt somewhat hollow.

 

His mother suggested a visit to New York to get over the war as she had taken an apartment there. With a newfound lease of life Ivor jumped at the chance and set sail with his mother and close friends. Ivor was thoroughly enchanted by the city and Broadway in particular. On the return voyage, Ivor was unexpectedly sent a cable from his agent, asking if he would like to act in his first film. Ivor had not acted since his school days but he went to Paris and met with Louis Mercanton a French director.

 

He was to co-star in the picture “The Call of the Blood” with Phyllis Neilson-Terry. Ivor turned out to be a natural and the film was a success, though Ivor himself was not wholly impressed with his own performance. Despite this newspapers reported him as being the new rising star. The film acting did not vastly interrupt his composing work and he saw it as a welcome distraction.

 

Novello also hankered after a theatrical role as many of his idols had been on the stage. On November 3rd 1921 Ivor played Armand Duval in HM Harwood’s stage production of “Debram”. It was hardly as well paid as the film work but it was an opening into the theatrical world. Further stage roles followed and soon found hoards of admiring fans at each performance. Novello soon had a contract in Hollywood at MGM.

 

Ivor took a part in “The Bohemian Girl” alongside Gladys Cooper and Constance Collier, but more importantly for him, Ellen Terry the great stage tragedian. In 1923 Novello was called to Hollywood to star in DW Griffith’s new film “The White Rose”, a huge honour, as Griffiths was one of the most renowned directors of the period.

 

The film turned out to be very successful and this was reflected in glowing reviews in the New York press. This certainly helped with his profile in England and he starred in “Bonnie Prince Charlie”. Ivor had also produced his own screenplay called “The Rat”, which he had written some time before but had not been able to stimulate interest in. His sudden rise to fame and new acquaintances enabled him to adapt the piece for the stage. It was a venture, which Ivor approached whole-heartedly, and “The Rat” opened in Brighton on January 15th Ivor's Birthday. Much interest arose and the house was packed for the first night.

 

It was not a masterpiece of writing, but was entertaining and Ivor in the lead role was as engaging as ever. Contrary to his friend Noel Coward’s advice, he took the play to the stages of London. It turned out to be a good move and the play ran for well over 600 performances.

 

Ivor acted in the play but concealed the fact that he had written it through the pseudonym “David Lestrange”. When the public discovered the truth they were even more impressed with the new stage manager and playwright.

 

Whilst the play was still running, Ivor starred in a film version of directed by Graham Cutts in 1924. The film followed on from the success of the play and Ivor's previous film roles. Unfortunately the newfound confidence Ivor felt led him to make some horrendous theatrical decisions and he was part of several stage failures, including Noel Coward's disastrous “Sirocco”. Novello only seemed suited at the time to roles which he himself cast, and as he had not written any new material he decided to work in films again.

 

Ivor was soon signed to star in a series of films at Islington Studies, this time in British films, firstly with a sequel to “The Rat”, entitled “"The Triumph of the Rat”. The next film was Alfred Hitchcock’s “The Lodger”, loosely based upon the Jack the Ripper story. “The Bioscope” reported the film as being “possibly the finest British production ever made”.

 

Following this Ivor starred in Hitchcock’s “Downhill” and Noel Coward’s film version of “The Vortex” which fled to Ivor starring in “A South Sea Bubble”, Ivor's last silent movie.

 

Novello’s mind was never far from the stage, and he knew that was where his creative talents lay. Cautiously he embarked upon writing “The Truth Game” and toiled over the whole process. The production rehearsals were troubled by a lack of faith from producer Gerald du Maurier and certain cast members. Novello was determined though and the show opened to huge audiences and proved the sceptics wrong, giving Ivor much needed confidence in his own writing.

 

Ivor followed up this success with “Symphony in two flats” and he was acknowledged as a stage writer. The success of this new play allowed Ivor to adapt it as a talking film and also for Broadway.

 

The advent of “talkies” put paid to many a silent film star’s career, whose voice simply did not suit the new medium, but Ivor was well suited to the talking picture as his training with Madame Clara had given him a prominent voice.

 

Upon arrival in Hollywood, Ivor was welcomed by Joan Crawford and taken to MGM studios. His script for “The Truth Game” was radically changed and little appeared on film that actually occurred on the stage; even the title was changed to “But the Flesh is Weak”. MGM had their books full with actors and much to Ivor's disappointment he was only engaged as a screenwriter. Novello was employed on such pictured as “Tarzan the Ape Man” and similarly tedious works, leaving him feeling his talents were being squandered.

 

He asked to be released from his contract and headed for England in the Spring of 1932. During his time in Hollywood he had completed writing two plays. He immediately opened with one, “I Lived with You” at the Prince of Wales Theatre. Novello played the part of Prince Felix and was a huge success, dispelling any fears he had after his experience in America. He followed this play up with “Party”, which he had written for his own amusement, then “Fresh Fields” which only took 10 days to write.

 

Novello was rapidly becoming known as a prolific and witty playwright, as his plays were published by Metheun in 1932. His confidence at an all time high, Novello thought once more of returning to film. Novello starred in a remake of “The Lodger” this time in a talking role for Twickenham Films. He also signed for Gaumont British to make “Sleeping Car”, whilst also acting on the stage.

 

Ivor soon found though that he was stretching himself too far and decided to concentrate on theatre and perhaps musicals with which he had his first real break. Novello had talks with HM Tennent, director at Drury Lane, about producing a large-scale musical production and soon he staged the ambitious “Glamorous Night” opening May 2nd 1935. The play revived Drury Lane and astounded critics, leaving fond memories for all concerned and songs sung down the years. It was particularly satisfying for Ivor who had closely followed the fortunes of the Drury Lane theatre and had seen every production there since 1902.

 

King George V, Queen Mary, the Duke and Duchess of Kent and Princess Alice all attended Drury Lane to see “Glamorous Night”. To further challenge himself Ivor took a demanding role in “The Happy Hypocrite” a dramatised version of Max Beerbohm's original story. The part demanded Ivor being heavily disguised and focus was therefore centred upon his acting ability and not his appearance. He played the role opposite Vivian Leigh and it was a triumph of his acting abilities, receiving praise across the board in the part of Lord George Hell.

 

Ivor was recalled to Drury Lane to produce his next show “Careless Rapture” in September of 1936. Novello was almost single-handedly responsible for the rising popularity of the large-scale musical, a market which had been previously dominated by American imports. He then followed up this effort with “Crest of a Wave” in September of 1937, retaining the same cast who were more than happy to appear in another Novello show.

 

Novello was beginning to make Drury Lane his own and he was devising, writing, composing and starring in each production. Then, much to everyone's amazement, Ivor announced he would stage Shakespeare and produced “Henry V” at Drury Lane. It was a radical departure from his light comedy roles but proved once again his versatility. Critics who expected him to fail were amazed.

 

Unfortunately for Ivor, war broke out again and audiences were not keen to watch a play with so much conflict depicted. Not disheartened, Novello wrote, “The Dancing Years”, which proved to be his greatest success and ran for 10 years. Ivor also gave several troop concerts with Olive Gilbert playing pieces from his favourite shows.

 

Whilst reviving “I Lived with You” at the King’s Theatre, Hammersmith on August 26th 1940, London was subjected to one of the worst air raids of the period. Ivor encouraged audiences to stay at the theatre and the cast of the play entertained them until 6 am.

 

As London closed for the war, Novello took “The Dancing Years” on a tour of the provinces. He did not anticipate the huge demand to see his grand musical, which was very topical, being about a half-Jewish composer who becomes a victim of Nazi persecution in Austria. It turned out to be a long and arduous tour as transport was reduced to essential services and accommodation took the form of school and church halls.

 

“The Dancing Years” then returned to London before the capital was targeted again in June of 1944. Novello also took a touring company to Normandy and entertained with “Love from a Stranger”. It was not long before Ivor had a new production underway and “Perchance to Dream” opened in London in April of 1945. It was a Regency musical production and was a tremendous success, with hit songs including “We’ll Gather Lilacs”. The play only ended its run because Ivor decided to take his company on a tour of South Africa with African Consolidated Theatres, opening in Johannesburg on December 23rd 1947.

 

Ivor thoroughly enjoyed the experience and followed up with performances in Cape Town. The tour also gave Ivor the opportunity to work upon his next show “King's Rhapsody”. This new work was one, which Ivor felt was his best piece yet and it opened on September 15th 1949.

 

The play is set in mythical Muriana with Novello playing a sympathetic King trying to rule against the will of an Old Guard Cabinet. It was one of Novello’s finest pieces of acting, at the age of 58, and critics claimed the play to be an utter triumph.

 

Ivor Novello played in King’s Rhapsody on March 5th 1951, completing the show and his usual curtain speech, but was then taken ill, dying at his home only hours afterwards. Palace Theatre programme cover for Ivor Novello's "King's Rhapsody".

   

So apparently joe doing a teen vogue photoshoot and interview that features demi...

 

Someone asked me for my opinion so let me explain, dont get mad at me because it is my opinion. and you don't have to read this if you don't want to.

I admit i am a little hypocritical because sometimes i like them together, other times, not so much. i loved them as best friends. When they started dating, i was cool with it. Then I started disliking them together. i don't know. but they seem happy together, and its not like any of us can do anything about it, just gonna have to get use to it.

‎Matthew 6 - Giving to the Needy

 

“Be careful not to practice your righteousness in front of others to be seen by them. If you do, you will have no reward from your Father in heaven.

 

“So when you give to the needy, do not announce it with trumpets, as the hypocrites do in the synagogues and on the streets, to be honored by others. Truly I tell you, they have received their reward in full. But when you give to the needy, do not let your left hand know what your right hand is doing, so that your giving may be in secret. Then your Father, who sees what is done in secret, will reward you.

 

Macro Monday project – 03/25/13

“6 (six)”

Blessed Laura Vicuna

 

Laura Carmen Vicuña was born in Santiago, Chile, South America on 5 April 1891. Her father, Joseph Dominic Vicuña, was an officer in the army, an aristocrat of the Spanish Vicuña dynasty. He married Mercedes Pino, a high-spirited and beautiful woman who came from a farming family. Mr. Vicuña’s relatives were disappointed that he did not marry within his social status and could not forgive him for this. As far as his family was concerned Mercedes did not exist.

 

Laura was baptised in St. Anne’s Church, Santiago, Chile on the 24 May of that year in the presence of her parents but no other relations were present except the godparents because the Vicuñas had disowned him after his marriage to Mercedes.

 

Chile was going through days of dramatic change. The president of the Republic, Joseph Emanuel Balmaceda, who was supported by the Vicuñas of the conservative party, had to abdicate because he was unable to break with the rigid position of the old regime. In a desperate effort to avoid civil war, he proposed as candidate for the presidency a Vicuña, Claudio, but it was already too late. The revolution broke out. On 28 August the rebels entered Santiago.

 

Joseph Vicuña was now persecuted on two fronts; his family disowned him because of his marriage to Mercedes and now he was on the run, cast out of his country, which he passionately and loyally served. Joseph and Mercedes with Laura in her arms fled from one countryside to another with few belongings. They reached Temuco, a city 500 kilometres south of Santiago, and settled there; a haven for those persecuted for their political beliefs. Life was hard but bearable. At eighteen months Laura fell gravely ill but recovered. Around five months later in 1983 a second child was born to Joseph and Mercedes. She was named Julia Amanda. The joy soon turned to grief. Soon after the birth of Julia, Joseph died of pneumonia.

 

The Vicuñas had managed to run a shop in Temuco, a haberdashery store. Alas, one night in 1899 burglars ransacked it, threatening to kill the two little girls if reported. Unable to restart building up a new store, Mercedes felt discouraged and decided to leave Temuco. That same year, with Laura eight and Julia six, she joined a caravan of emigrants in search of a livelihood in the neighbouring country of Argentine, hoping against hope.

 

Ill fate threw Mercedes into despair. She had no more endurance. She gave up searching for an honourable occupation. She took shelter in the Quilquihue (home of the falcon) ranch run by a certain Mr. Manuel Mora, a cruel master. He had served prison sentences for crimes unknown and frequently had recourse to the dagger and revolver. Mercedes herself was witness of his savagery as he flogged a stableboy mercilessly.

 

When Mercedes came to know him he was about forty, a good-looking and handsome man. Manuel was a self-made lord and Mercedes clung to him in her vulnerability thinking that he would protector herself and her children. Manuel had no intention of marrying her. She would become his mistress.

 

Mercedes did size up the situation and realised that her two daughters were in the wrong environment. She enquired here and there and was finally able to have Laura and Julia placed in a boarding school run by the Salesian Sisters at Junín de los Andes. Junín was a border town, 780 metres above sea level in the folds of the Cordillera. The Salesian Sisters, Fathers and Brothers, under the direction of Cardinal John Cagliero sdb, had not long entered this region and opened boarding schools for boys and girls. Twenty kilometres separated the Quilquihue ranch from Junín.

 

Ironically, Manuel was willing to pay the tuition of the two girls. He even paid for the children’s clothes. Sr. Angela Piai, a Salesian Sister and leader of the community, accepted the two sisters, Laura being nine years of age and Julia. They started there on 21 January 1900 among fourteen boarders and seventy day-students and both settled into their new environment with ease. But Laura realised that her mother was not in the right place. She confided to Julia, "We must beg our mum to leave that wretched farmhouse".

 

The boarding school would be the environment where Laura would learn so much about herself, others, her world and her God. While at the College she made a marvellous discovery of her journey with a personal God. Sr. Angela attests, "From her first days in the College they noticed in Laura a sense of judgement well beyond her age". And Fr. Crestanello sdb affirms: "Right from the first catechism lessons she was very keen to learn all that was being taught, while deep down in her heart there was a growing desire to put all she heard into practice".

 

Laura, therefore, progressed well in her studies. At the end of the first scholastic year she came first in the whole school. At the prize-giving on 1 January 1901 she received a bible from the hands of Cardinal Cagliero. He had told her: "Take this copy of the bible and read it, especially during your holidays". While Laura really did not want to return to the ranch, that is exactly what she did during the summer months once back at the Quilquihue. However, Laura could sense that things were not right with her mother. While Manuel treated Laura with respect that summer, she could already distinguish between what was opportune and what should not be done. She had transformed study into wisdom and catechism into life. At this stage no one at the College was aware of Mercedes’ true situation.

 

The two girls returned to the boarding school the following year. Laura continued to be very diligent in school. The more she learnt about her faith and about the Catholic moral code of practice the more she realised the gravity of the situation in which her mother was living. This pained her deeply.

 

On 2 June 1901, at the age of ten, Laura received her first Communion. On that day she resolved to love God wholeheartedly, to make God known and loved by others and she was determined, as far as it was possible, not to commit a deliberate sin.

 

While Laura’s educators thought that she was an exemplary student, it did not stop Laura from being a very active ten-year old. She was cheerful and very approachable. The girls took to her because she was so kind and keen to help them learn. She would show the less gifted how to read, or the newest arrivals how to take a pen in their inexpert hands or repeat a lesson for another. She used her free time to comfort those boarders who were sick. She would tell her companions: "A cheerful attitude will sustain you in all your difficulties, trials and sufferings in life".

 

In other words, Laura was into everything; acting on the stage, playing games, helping with the chores, assisting other with their lessons, deepening her prayer life. Sr. Azócar, Laura’s first and most loved teacher, states, "She was gentle and strong at the same time".

 

At the end of the scholastic year 1901 and on the feast of Mary Immaculate, Laura joined other companions and become a Child of Mary. Her sister Julia remembers, "The day on which Laura received the medal of a Child of Mary was one of her happiest days".

 

This happiness was soon short lived. Mercedes came to take her two daughters home for the summer after Christmas. During these holidays Manuel’s attitude had drastically changed. Rumour had it that Manuel was paying for Laura’s education so that one day he would marry her. The man was to realise that he was making a huge mistake. During that summer he would often send Mercedes outside the house to be alone with Laura. But Laura resisted and managed to save herself from his assault. Mercedes realising what was happening was heartbroken but still did not leave the ranch.

 

At an evening festival after branding the animals Laura was invited to dance with Manuel. She flatly refused. She knew how these dances ended. The fierce master flew into a rage and furiously flogged Laura’s mother because of Laura’s resistance.

 

Days after things became worse. Manuel refused to pay Laura’s tuition. What is more he expected the two girls to work as servants on the ranch. The mother objected; "They are mine", she cried, "and I am not here as a slave". Manuel shouted: "Either a slave or dead! As for those two we will see"! Sr. Angela finally came to know of the unfortunate situation Mercedes and the children were in. She offered Laura free tuition for five years.

 

As the 1902 scholastic year dawned Laura and Julia were certainly very glad to be back at the College. Around Easter of that year Laura and Julia received the sacrament of Confirmation. Their mother was present at this celebration and it gave another chance for Laura to talk to her mother about leaving Manuel. But nothing changed.

 

She eagerly confided in her confessor, Fr. Crestanello, of her deep desire to become a Salesian Sister even though she realised she was still too young to take that step. More agonising for Laura was the knowledge, following canon law of that era, that even in the future, because of her mother’s situation, she could never begin that journey. The confessor realised the depth of soul of this young girl, which reached far beyond her young life. After some instruction from him, he allowed her to make the three vows of chastity, poverty and obedience privately. She committed herself to imitate Jesus poor, chaste and obedient. She was eleven years old.

 

During a sermon that year given on the parable of the Good Shepherd, Fr. Crestanello brought out the necessity of giving one’s life for others. Laura was more determined than ever. "I offer mine to you, Jesus. It is for my dear mother. She will come back to your love". Laura confided her resolve to Sr. Azócar and she suggested that Laura speak to Fr. Crestanello. That she did, but he hesitated to approve of such an undertaking - an eleven year old offering her life for the good of her mother. Fr. Crestanello again marvelled at the extraordinary depth in one so young.

 

As 1902 concluded Laura again received an excellent school report. But by the end of this year the Sisters noticed that Laura neither looked well nor had the same energy as before. On an understanding with Mercedes, Laura remained at Junín. Laura was grateful for this for she knew that time at Quilquihue would have been very stressful. Over the holidays she did regain some of her colour and strength once more. So as 1903 dawned she was able to face the new scholastic year with vigour and enthusiasm.

 

During the month of July of that year the river near the boarding school, the Chimehuin River, burst its banks because of excessive rain and flooded the whole of the town. The rushing waters brought ruin and destruction. The Sisters’ school was also flooded. On the evening of 16 July more than a metre of water engulfed the school. Laura was instrumental in saving the lives of other children in the school. All managed to escape safely and could not return for at least a week.

 

After this Laura fell ill. Possibly it was pneumonia but with scant medicine and very little medical attention Laura was prescribed only rest and nourishing food. Sr. Angela and the Sisters thought it best for Laura not to go back to the ranch to recover. But Mercedes thought otherwise and had her return to Quilquihue. Laura, as if pre-empting the future, told Sr. Angela to give away her clothes to a needy family nearby.

 

Sadly, Laura, her companions and the Sisters bid farewell to each other. The thought of returning to Quilquihue was no joy for Laura but Mercedes was convinced that the fresh air and nourishing food would cure Laura. Laura remained at Quilquihue from 15 September to 1 November. In all this time there was no improvement in Laura’s health, actually it deteriorated. Laura’s encounter with Manuel remained the same. He neither greeted her nor showed any understanding that she was not well. He actually had no pity on her. He declared: "Laura is an impostor and fever or no fever, if she continues to stay in bed, I’ll flog her. I have had enough of this hypocrite".

 

Finally, after much insistence from Laura, Mercedes and this courageous girl of twelve left the ranch for good. The excuse was that Mercedes was taking Laura to the doctor in Junín. When they reached Junín Mercedes rented two rooms not far from the boarding school of the Salesian Sisters. The girls, the Sisters and Fr. Crestanello often visited Laura. Again the diagnosis was uncertain. Was it peritonitis or tuberculosis? Whichever it was, Laura was seriously ill. During the whole month of December Laura was nearly always in bed. Mercedes, at times, was agitated, like one caught between two conflicting desires; remain with Manuel or protect her vulnerable children. By now many in the area had heard of Mercedes’ plight. Some pitied her, others realised that her daughter was paying for Mercedes’ relationship with Manuel.

 

Christmas came and went with little improvement in Laura’s health. Julia stayed at the College over the summer of 1903-1904 so that Mercedes could concentrate on caring for Laura.

 

One evening around mid-January 1904 Manuel arrived at Mercedes’ humble abode. He walked in as if he owned the place. Whose money was paying the rent? His, of course, so he wanted to stay the night. Laura insisted that if he stayed she would go to live with the Sisters. But things became worse. She made as if to leave and he tore after Laura like a wild animal, caught her by the arm and beat her savagely as he tried to get her back inside. Since a crowd was gathering, Manuel jumped on his horse and rode off. The poor girl was left in a miserable state. Fr Crestanello came rushing over. "A few more strokes would have killed her," was the priest’s sad comment.

 

Everyone in Junín complained about the perverse ranch-owner as they talked about the unpleasant incident. Laura was put to bed to never get up again. Yet she still had the strength and courage to tell Mercedes: "Please, I beg you to leave that man". And still Mercedes’ ears were closed. Perhaps she did understand, but lacked the strength to break once and for all with Manuel Mora.

 

On 18 January Laura received the Anointing of the Sick since her condition had worsened gravely. Unfortunately the Sisters and Salesians were leaving the next day for Santiago, Laura’s birthplace, for their annual retreat. Only one Sister and two priests remained behind. Would she die alone, void of the people she loved so dearly? Yet the whole of Junín was in agony with her, all now realising what she had suffered at the hands of Manuel. Laura was able to speak to her sister Julia. "Try to be kind to mamma. Don’t displease her and always treat her with great respect. Do not leave her in need." Her last words were for her mother. It was 22 January 1904. On the day of her death Laura finally confided to her mother that she had offered her life so that Mercedes would change her ways. "It is two years since I have offered my life for you. Before I die promise me that you will change your ways and leave that man". Beside herself with anguish and remorse, Mercedes could not but solemnly promise to abide by this wish. One person’s convictions become another person’s change of heart.

 

Manuel came back like a bird of prey for his victim. "You must come back to me", he insisted, "if not I will kill you too, as I have done with your daughter". This time Mercedes was just as firm in the negative. "No, never," was Mercedes’ firm stand, "I have given you up for good". Shortly after Manuel was killed in a brawl. He was left dead on the road. One person’s convictions become another person’s change of heart.

  

Visit this location in Second Life

I think in Simon's list of 50 best Suffolk churches, Woolpit comes in at number 31. It is now that I remember that I cannot remember why I should go to Woolpit on what would be the last of the EA church visits this year, as Mum was home and in the care of the district nurse, and there was nothing else we could do, not in actions, money or time given. She really has to stand on her own two feet now.

 

Anyway; Woolpit.

 

I decided to go, and after looking on the map I saw that with some create route planning, I could go down the 143, then double back and join the A14 eastwards before turning south down our old friend, the A12.

 

On the way I did also visit Stowlangtoft, which was a wonderful church, a church filled with wonderful things that seemed to hang together as a whole. Woolpit would have to be something special to trup St George.

 

And it nearly did. Nearly. Woolpit is a picture perfect village, all timber framed buildings, narrow lanes and impossible to park in. I drove through it finding a kind of space just past the church. I could see from the tower and building it was a church on which the Victorians had been very busy.

 

Most glorious is Mary's roof; double hammerbeam adorned with 208 angels one of the wardens told me. It had been counted several times during a dull sermon. Or two.

 

The wardens were building the crib for Christmas, so were using a pallet as a base, or something like that. I didn't see it finished, but Ken Bruce was booming out from a radio, preaching the Gospel According to Popmaster to all who would listen.

 

The angels in the roof and on the walls of the church are indeed impressive, as is the rood screen, but not sure if they are original. There are carved pew ends aplenty, but to my eye, not as well carved or as old as at Stowlangtoft. I could be wrong. But I snap a few anyway.

 

But I received a warm welcome here, and it is a fantastic church for me.

 

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2008: Woolpit is a village which I often visit, and it is always a pleasure to go into the church. But the entry for St Mary was one of the last on the original Suffolk Churches site, making its appearance in late 2001. In fact, I think it was the last of the old-style entries. I was getting a bit wordy by then.

Woolpit was one of the longest entries, and this wasn't just because there is so much to see. I went off at a great tangent about the meaning of medieval iconography, and how it survived the Reformation. It certainly got some thoughts clear in my own head, even if it confused other people. I actually wrote the entry in the back of an old exercise book sitting outside a café on the Cote d'Azur in southern France. Reading that back, it seems a little pretentious, but I really was there. Here in Ipswich on a frosty February evening, I can't help remembering the heat as I scrawled in the pad.

 

I've left the original entry almost entirely as it was, apart from the removal of one absolute howler, which I won't mention. I am not sure if Woolpit still has a Sunday market, and I am sure that someone will tell me if it has not. Paul Hocking is no longer Rector of Woolpit, but to my eyes the church continues to go from strength to strength, feeling at once busy and at the heart of its community, the still centre of a busy village. I like it very much.

 

2001: The clear blue waters of the Mediterranean swirl around my legs, then past me, buffeting the rocks along the silver beach. Millions of tiny flecks of mica swarm through the current, washed out of the hills of Southern Provence. They shine for a fraction of a second with all the light the high summer sun can give, a universe caught in a moment; then turn, disappearing, making of the water a shimmering skein, an ancient memory.

 

The sea is at the start of all European civilisation. Here, history wells about me. I think of Europe, and the fragmentation of nations. I think of the Balkans, and the Reformation, and the same water surrounding, tending, isolating. I think of time passing.

 

A week before, I'd been standing in the cool nave of the church of the Assumption of the Blessed Virgin, Woolpit - or at least, that is what it probably was once, back then. Today, it is dedicated simply as 'St Mary', in common with the majority of Suffolk's medieval churches, among which it is one of the finest, some say. This is mostly by virtue of its beautiful porch, and extraordinary angel roof.

 

But is that true? For there are those who love this church that, perhaps, never look up at the porch or roof. Is it the plethora of 15th century bench ends that captures the imagination? Or could it be Richard Phipson's outrageous 1850s tower and lacy spire, straight out of the Nene Valley, its evangelistic slogans around the side in a Victorian equivalent of Piccadilly Circus neon? It ought not to work, and yet it does. Or is it that supremely articulate view to the east, perfect of proportion despite the stripping away of its medieval liturgical apparatus? Above all else, and above most others, this is a church with presence.

 

It was the bench ends that I was thinking of as I immersed myself out of the intensity of the Provencal sun. A number of questions occured to me, as they have done on other occasions, in other churches. Who made them? What did they mean by them? And how did they survive the iconoclasms of the Protestant Reformation? Here in Southern Europe, I thought I might have found some answers.

 

Woolpit, then. It is perhaps the most perfect of all Suffolk villages. Not sleepy, and chocolate boxy, but to actually live in. Its shops and pubs are arranged around the pleasant village square, and Phipson's crazy spire towers above them. Woolpit still has its school, and you wouldn't need to get in the car every time you needed a loaf of bread, as you'd have to do in some of Suffolk's more famously picturesque villages, like Kersey and Tuddenham. And Woolpit has its Sunday market, beloved of hundreds of non-sabbatarian junk-hunters each week.

 

Further, Woolpit has its mythology; the two green children, who climbed out of the ground, speaking a strange language and afraid of the sunlight. The boy died soon after, but the girl grew up and married; she learned to speak English, and told of St Martin's Land, from where she and her brother had emerged. There are holes in the ground around Woolpit, quarries where bricks were made in the 19th century. But perhaps there was once something much older, for every Suffolk schoolchild knows that the name 'Woolpit' is nothing to do with wool, but with the wolves that once lived in the pits here...

 

So, it is a well-known village. It is because of this as much as anything about St Mary itself that makes this church so well-known to people who haven't heard of the even more interesting and beautiful church of St Ethelbert, Hessett, barely three miles away.

 

Your first sight of St Mary will be Phipson's crazy spire, visible from miles away, and quite unlike anything else in East Anglia. Suffolk is a county where spires are rare enough, anyway. From the far side of the Gipping valley you can see this one and two others, piercing the soft harvest mist in autumn. They are Phipson's equally absurd Great Finborough, and the 1990s blade of St Peter and St Mary, Stowmarket. There are only about a dozen more in the whole of the county. The excuse for this one was that the tower was struck by lightning in 1852, bringing down the previous lead and timber affair (presumably like the one at Hadleigh). The font is contemporary with the tower, suggesting that the old one was destroyed by the fall.

 

In the 1950s and 1960s, the artist John Piper produced a series of screen prints of aspects of Suffolk churches; for most, he used the fine perpendicular tower, ramifying it in bold Festival of Britain primary colours. But for Woolpit, he chose the porch, because it is Suffolk's finest. Cautley thought it the best in all England. It is two-storey, 15th century, contemporary with the nave. Mortlock tells us that they were both built by wealthy Bury Abbey, who owned the living here. As at Beccles, it rises way above the south aisle, tower-like in itself.

 

A rood group of niches surmounts the shields of East Anglia above the door. More flank them. Mortlock says that the work began in the early 1430s, and the niches were filled by a bequest of 1473, suggesting that the porch was forty years in the making. The south aisle and chancel are slightly earlier, the north aisle slightly later, so it is the nave that promises us great things, and doesn't disappoint.

 

You step into cool darkness, and look up. It is breathtaking. This is Suffolk's most perfectly restored angel hammerbeam roof. It may not have the drama of Mildenhall, the exquisiteness of Blythburgh, the sheer mathematics of Needham Market, but it shows us in detail more than any other what the medieval imagination was aiming at. From the still, small silence of the church floor below, you look up into a great shout of praise. Here are hundreds of figures, both angelic and human. The profusion is ordered, as if some mighty hymn were in progress.

 

Paul Hocking thinks that it is a representation of the Te Deum Laudamus: We praise thee, O God, we acknowledge thee to be the Lord... To thee all Angels cry aloud, the Heavens, and all the Powers therein. To thee Cherubim and Seraphim continually do cry Holy Holy Holy Lord God of Sabaoth... The glorious company of the Apostles praise thee, the goodly fellowship of the Prophets praise thee, the noble army of Martyrs praise thee...

 

I know this, because he told me so. I was busy photographing bench ends when this very enthusiastic American bounced in with another visitor, and gave him a whistlestop tour of the church, describing the details with great knowledge and understanding. Solicitously, he talked to me afterwards about what I was doing, and asked me if I'd met the Rector of Woolpit yet. I said that I went out of my way to avoid Rectors wherever possible. He laughed, and replied that, on this occasion, I'd failed, because he was, in fact, the Rector.

 

After I'd coughed miserably, and he'd laughed again, we had a long chat, uncovering a few mutual aquaintances. He described the roof, which he has obviously spent a lot of time exploring. He pointed out the way the wall posts contained Saints, some with apostolic symbols, some with books, and some with martyr's palms. There are angels on the hammerbeams above, and bearing symbols below. John Blatchly counted 128 angels alone. Some of the shields have letters on them. Are they an acrostic, as on the east chancel wall at Blythburgh? Do they indicate individual Saints? The great Henry Ringham completely restored this roof in 1862, but Mortlock thinks that one of the angels is not his, and I agree - you'll find it in the south west corner. Paul Hocking argues that the restoration was nowhere near as complete as has been made out, and that many features are original.

 

Henry Ringham also restored the range of bench ends, by duplicating some of the medieval ones, as he did at Great Bealings and Tuddenham St Martin. All are rendered with his customary skill. If Ringham did restore this roof, then the imagery must have been destroyed at some point. One instinctively thinks of William Dowsing, the Puritan inspector of the churches of Cambridgeshire and Suffolk, who progressed across the counties during the course of 1644. His delight in the destruction of angel roofs was matched only by that at the destruction of stained glass.

 

And Dowsing did visit this church. He arrived here in the afternoon of February 29th 1644. It was a Thursday, and he had come here across country from Helmingham, where he had found much to do. He also planned to visit Beyton that day, but in the end stayed overnight at the Bull hotel, and inspected All Saints there in the morning. He then rested for the weekend - the following week, he had a busy tour of southern Cambridgeshire ahead of him.

 

Dowsing records in great detail what he found to do at each church. In the case of Woolpit, the angel roof is the Dog That Didn't Bark: My Deputy. 80 superstitious pictures; some he brake down, and the rest he gave order to take down; and three crosses to be taken down in 20 days. 8s 6d. There are only two possible reasons why Dowsing doesn't mention the roof. Either he didn't notice it (extremely unlikely) or it had already been destroyed. This second option seems certain; mid-Suffolk was a strongly protestant area, and nearby Rougham, which clearly had a similar roof, was not visited by Dowsing, but was vandalised even more comprehensively than Woolpit. Most likely, the destruction at both churches dated from a hundred years earlier, although it is possible that the Rougham and Woolpit congregations had been puritan enough in the 1630s to do it to their own churches themselves.

 

Beneath the roof, the church is broad, its two aisles giving room for the panoply of medieval liturgical processions. At the east end of the south aisle was once the shrine of Our Lady of Woolpit, a site of medieval pilgrimage in connection with a nearby holy well. Apart from the front rows, many of the benches appear to be in their original positions. Some of the bench ends are 15th century, others are Ringham's 19th century copies. I wandered around the medieval bench ends, running my hands over them, crouching down and engaging them, face to face. For anyone educated in a Marxist or Weberian historical tradition, as most of my generation were, interpreting the less-obviously liturgical or theological features of a medieval church is fraught with difficulties. One possibility is to do a Cautley, and try not to interpret them at all. But it is more fun to try to do so, don't you think?

 

The bench ends of Woolpit are remarkable for their abundance. They are not representations of sacraments, virtues and vices as at Tannington and elsewhere, or Saints as at Ufford and Athelington. They are almost all non-allegorical animals, although not the art objects we find at Stowlangtoft, or the mysterious beasts of Lakenheath. Perhaps a good comparison is the similar body of work at nearby Combs. Indeed, although they do not appear to be from the same workshop, it is likely that their creators knew of each others' work. There are dogs, with geese hanging from their mouths, and another which may be a cat with a rat or lizard. There are lions and bears, and a chained monkey, and birds in profusion. So who did them, and why are they here?

 

There is one school of thought that says that they are simply there to beautify the church, and that they were made by local craftsmen doing what they were best at. If they could do lions, they did lions. If they could render a decent rabbit, then that is what they did. And so on.

 

But I think that there is rather more to it than that. On my journey down through France, I had spent an afternoon in one of my favourite towns, Autun, in Burgundy. One of the reasons I like Autun is its 11th century Cathedral of St-Lazaire; this is Lazurus, raised by Christ from the dead, and until the 18th century his relics were venerated at a shrine here. St-Lazaire is most famous for its great tympanum above the west door, generally recognised as one of the greatest Romanesque art treasures in the world, and with International Heritage status. It was created during the middle years of the 12th century, and shows the Last Judgement. To emphasise Christ's majesty over all the world, it features all manner of beasts, domestic, wild and mythical.

 

Throughout the Cathedral, animals infest the famous capitals, which tell the Gospel story. Abbe Denis Grivot, in his Un Bestiaire de la Cathedrale D'Autun (Lyon, 1973) argues that the 12th century creators of all this filled it with animals to echo the final verse of the 150th Psalm, the crowning point of that great sequence of hymns of praise: Let everything that hath breath praise the Lord!

 

Standing in the nave at Autun, I instantly recalled Paul Hocking's words about the roof at Woolpit, when he said he thought it was a representation of the Te Deum Laudamus. The Te Deum is one of the canticles; another is the Benedicite, traditionally sung through Lent: Oh all ye Works of the Lord, bless ye the Lord; praise him and magnify him for ever... O ye whales, and all that move in the Waters, bless ye the Lord... O all ye Fowls of the air, bless ye the Lord... O all ye beasts and Cattle, bless ye the Lord: praise him, and magnify him for ever!

 

Could it be that the bench ends at Woolpit, and elsewhere in Suffolk, were intended to reflect and represent the praise defined in the canticles and psalms? Both would have been central to the liturgy of the medieval Catholic church. Perhaps the bench ends of Woolpit are liturgical and theological after all.

 

How would a carpenter, or group of carpenters, go about creating a set of benches like the ones at Woolpit? Who were they? Almost certainly, they were locals. They might have been itinerant jobbing carpenters, but I don't think so. The bench ends at adjacent Tostock are clearly by the same hand. But those at nearby Stowlangtoft and Norton are not, and a third hand seems to be responsible for those at Combs, as I previously mentioned. I do not think that the mutilated ones at Rougham and Elmswell are either; they were probably from the same workshop as each other.

 

So, we have a conscious attempt by skilled members of a community to create a hymn of praise in carved oak, by representing as many beasts as they felt capable of making. Where did they get their ideas from? They would have had no problems with oxen, cocks, conies - these were all around them, in their daily lives. The person who carved the hunting dog here was very familiar with it. Perhaps it was his own. What about monkeys and lions? These are more problematic. In medieval bestiaries, exotic creatures had fabulous legends attached to them, which gave them a theological symbolism.

 

But this symbolism doesn't usually seem intended when we see them on bench ends. Sometimes they are rendered accurately, but more often wild animals are fairly imaginary; I think particularly of Barningham's camel, and Hadleigh's wolf. It isn't enough to say that the carvers could have seen pictures of exotic beasts. This is fairly unlikely. Probably, the ordinary people of Woolpit never saw a book other than the missals, lectionaries and hagiographies used in church.

 

They might have seen pictures of lions and monkeys in wall paintings, either in other churches or here at Woolpit. They might have seen them carved in bench ends, for the same reason. In fact, the representation of wild animals varies so much as to suggest that this is not the case - compare, for example, the lions of Combs with those of Stowlangtoft. Probably, they were created in the imagination from descriptions and attributes in stories. But I think that there is a strong possibility that the woodcarvers of Woolpit did see lions and monkeys in real life.

 

Here in Catholic Southern Europe, there are many remote small towns which, by virtue of being so very far from each other, take on a rich and complex life of their own. Even small villages have their shops, their craftsmen, their tradespeople; they replicate a situation that existed in Suffolk until well into the 19th century, and in some cases beyond, before the great industrialisation and easy transport swept it away. Further, there are traditions here still that we have lost. Whenever I come here, I am fascinated by the itinerant entertainers, who move from village to village, giving a single performance befre moving on. This must also once have been true of England. The thing that fascinates me most is the multitude of small family circuses.

 

Many of them seem to be of Italian or Romany origin; all family members have multiple roles, from the oldest grandparent to the youngest child, selling tickets, doing acrobatics, being the straight men to the clown (who is typically Grandpa). They all put up the tent before the performance, and take it down afterwards. They move on, through the remote hills of Provence and the Languedoc, performing on village greens, wastegrounds, the corners of fields, even traffic islands.

 

As I say, I am fascinated, and can rarely resist them, even though I am shocked, even appalled, by the easy cruelty to animals. Performing animals are still often chosen for their curiosity value, if you can call running around in a circle to the crack of a whip 'performing', poor things.

 

The choices are strange indeed; camels and zebras often feature; I have seen an old bear on a chain, and at one circus in remote Languedoc a hippopotamus of all things - it caught bread thrown by the crowd. There was no safety fence between the seats and the ring, no Health and Safety Executive to penetrate these lost valleys. I do not know if such circuses existed in medieval Suffolk. But I think that they probably did. Suffolk is a maritime county, and exotic animals were widely known and exhibited in medieval Europe. Before the Protestant Reformation cut us of from the mainland, clerics and merchants thought of themselves as European, and travelled widely - English sovereignty was a hazy concept at best, and 'Britishness' was still centuries away from being formulated as an idea. People owed allegiance to their village, their parish, and their lord, not to the Crown and Parliament in London.

 

Were the woodcarvers of Woolpit and Tostock remembering this? A circus visit, perhaps back in their childhood? Exotic animals rendered inaccurately, to be sure, but with an enthusiastic nostalgia for that exciting moment in their lives? Was there a lion? A monkey, or a bear? How much more powerful if they also knew the fabulous legends about the beasts - and had seen them in real life!

 

Some of the carvings at Woolpit are allegorical. One shows a monkey dressed in monk's robes. This, I think, is a joke at the expense of the itinerant friars who went from parish to parish, preaching repentance in the streets. They were sanctioned by the Pope, but were beyond the jurisdiction of the local Bishop. They didn't always go down well with the local Priest and congregation, who considered the Friars nosey and hypocritical. A monkey is often a symbol of foolish vanity - hence, a Friar thinking he was better than anyone else. What better way to make the point than to slip him in as one of the creatures praising the Lord?

 

How did they survive? But why should they have been destroyed? We make the mistake of thinking of the Puritans as vandals. But the more you read about William Dowsing, the more he emerges as being a principled, conservative kind of chap, despite his clearly flawed and fundamentalist theological opinions. He had no reason to destroy animal bench ends. They weren't superstitious - even Dowsing didn't think Catholics worshipped animals. If he didn't think they were meant to represent the canticles, he wouldn't even have considered them religious. Amen to that.

 

So much for the 17th century. What about the 19th? St Mary is one of the most enthusiastically restored of Suffolk's churches, despite its survivng medieval detail. But it was done well. Mortlock thought that the 19th century pulpit was the work of Ringham - but the brass lectern is pre-Reformation, a fine example. The rood screen dado panels have sentimental 19th century Saints on them, that may or may not duplicate what was there before. They are actually very good, particularly the gorgeous Mary of Magdala. They have their names painted on the cross beams for the less hagiologically articulate Victorians - from left to right across the aisle they are Saints Barbara, Felix, Mary of Magdala, Peter, Paul, Mary, Edmund and Etheldreda. It is unlikely that Saint Felix would have been on a medieval roodscreen, and Mary almost certainly wasn't - it would have relegated her to a position of no more importance than the others. If it reflects anything of what was there before, it was probably St Anne with the infant Virgin.

 

The top part of the screen was renewed in 1750, and dated so. The gates are probably a Laudian imposition of 120 years earlier, as at Kedington. This may suggest that, by the time of Dowsing's visit, the chancel was being used for some other practical purpose. Above, high above, set in the east nave wall over the chancel arch, is one of the wierdest objects I've seen in a medieval church. It was installed in the 1870s, and is clearly meant to echo the coving of a rood loft. Goodness knows what it actually is, but it is painted in garish colours, and inscribed with texts. In one of those moments where Cautley and credibility part company, he describes anyone who doesn't think it is a genuine medieval canopy of honour as 'stupid'. I suppose that it has a certain curiosity value.

 

The three-light window above it would have given light to the rood. The east window contains one of Suffolk's best modern Madonna and child images which was made by the artist Ian Keen for the King workshop in the early 1960s. Ian Keen was also responsible for the beautiful St Margaret in St Margaret's church in Norwich, and for the memorable window of St Francis with a labrador at Somerleyton near Lowestoft.

 

I turned back westwards, past a superb medieval bench end of the three Marys. This is a delight, and you'd travel to London to see it if it was in the V&A. Mary the mother of Jesus, Mary the mother of James and Mary of Magdala huddle together, perhaps on the morning of the Resurrection. One of them has a lily of the Annunciation. One head is destroyed - but was it vandalised? Or is it the result of carelessness, the wear and tear of the centuries? Would 17th century puritans have destroyed it if they'd seen it?

 

Dowsing rarely mentions bench ends, so perhaps few were left by then anyway. So how could it possibly have survived the violent zeal of the 16th century Protestants, battering the Church of England into existence with their axes, pikes and bonfires? How, even after the 1540 edict of Edward VI which ordered the destruction of all statues and images of Saints, especially those of the Blessed Virgin Mary, is it still there at all?

Still more questions than answers, I suppose. I dived beneath the water, and there was beneath me a restless current, shifting and reshifting the silver sand into unique patterns, the work of millennia, still changing, never the same.

 

- le Rayol Canadel, Cote d'Azur, August 2001.

 

www.suffolkchurches.co.uk/woolpit.htm

"Now get your ass up like a big boy, I know you got a vest on. You wouldn't run your mouth as much if you didn't have that armor on, would you asshole!"

 

Hoodie's bullets had some kick to them. Knocked me on my ass out of the door. Nevertheless, it was an annoyance, not a threat. But this guy is giving ME shit for having armor on? Yeah, right. Like you ain't hiding some kevlar under that outdated 50's greaser jacket. Fucking hypocrite.

 

"Armor? Armor is a problem? We can solve that."

 

I took off my helmet and chucked it at him, catching him by surprise. He wasn't wearing a helmet either, so now we're even. I charge him and make sure I knock that gun out of his hand. Don't want this to be too easy. Now the fun begins. Well, for me. Hoodie was quick. And strong. I however, had both of those traits, only better. At one point I went for a stab to his gut. It made it through the jacket, but not that undershirt. I knew it. There IS kevlar under there. Looks like my knuckles are my best friends here. The fight went on for I'd say about 5 minutes. Hoodie had moves. He was trained well. He also looked a bit familiar. And on top of that, he said "Ole' Brucie" sent me. He knows who's under those big, pointy ears? I need some answers. He knows alot of things. He's not just some assassin who watches too much late night TV. I'll just subdue him, and squeeze the answers out of him. How I subdue him? By uppercutting his ass into that glass table of his. Shit, busted up his couch, too. falling right into the glass table, is obviously shatters. This is why none of that glass shit is in my house. Too weak. As I looked as his broken, leather-wrapped pile of a body role in the glass, he spoke, in a very pained voice.

 

"W.....what the hell are you waiting for? Just end this already."

 

"Y'know what? No."

 

"...?..."

 

"There's something about you. You're not just some hired gun. You're way more than that. You can fight, you have this...'identity', and I can't help but think I've seen you before. Even more you know about Brucie's secret."

 

"I'm just a freak in a costume like you. What does it matter?"

 

"It matters alot. I've seen what the Red Hood does. What you did with Patton was...out of character. And even before then the things you get yourself into are stuff no good man does. Something happened to you. Something wrong. I should know, how the hell do you think I ended up like this?."

 

"I don't-*urgh*-understand were you're going with this...."

 

"What I'm going with is what I wanna know. Tell me, who are you/ And what happened to make you put on that greaser jacket there..."

Rudolph “Skip” Keith is shown attending a gay rights conference held at All Souls Church in Washington, D.C. October 11, 1975.

 

Keith had been in the Air Force for seven years when he announced he was gay during a race relations class at Dover Air Force base on May 23rd.

 

Keith, a native of Washington, D.C., was an Air Force staff sergeant who had an “outstanding” service record, according to military authorities.

 

The Air Force recommended his discharge citing five instances in which Keith told people he was gay.

 

Keith said at the conference that “I liked the Air Force and hated to go. They’re a bunch of hypocrites and their rules for discharges aren’t hard and fast.”

 

Keith was given an honorable discharge.

 

Leonard Matlovich also attended the conference and was a national figure at that point in time while few had heard of Keith.

 

Matlovich was a former Air Force technical sergeant who was discharged after 12 years in the service in 1975 and had come out two months before Keith and became a leading gay rights spokesperson.

 

Unlike Keith, Matlovich was given a general discharge instead of honorable and he sued over his expulsion from the service and the lesser grade discharge.

 

At the conference Matlovich told the 350 attendees, “If we are united, nothing on earth can defeat us. Black Americans led the way in the fight for civil rights and now we’re asking for our share of the American pie.”

 

Matlovich planned his coming out with longtime D.C. gay rights activist Franklin Kameny who was looking for someone in the military to test the vague bans on gay people.

 

Matlovich became the first openly gay person to be featured on the cover a major news magazine when Time put him on the cover of a 1975 issue.

 

Matlovich’s suit stalled for years in the courts, but in 1980 U.S. District Court Judge Gerhard Gesell ordered him reinstated into the Air Force and promoted.

 

The Air Force offered Matlovich a financial settlement instead. Convinced that the military would find some other reason to discharge him if he reentered the service, or that the conservative Supreme Court would rule against him should the Air Force appeal, Matlovich accepted.

 

The figure, based on back pay, future pay, and pension, was $160,000.

 

Matlovich briefly lived in Washington, D.C. but ultimately settled in California where he continued gay rights activism.

 

He announced on Good Morning America in 1987 that he had contracted HIV, and was arrested with other demonstrators in front of the White House that June protesting what they believed was an inadequate response to HIV/AIDS by the administration of President Ronald Reagan.

 

Matlovich died of AIDS in 1988. Keith dropped from public view and it is unknown what became of him.

 

'In 1993 the military adopted a “Don’t ask don’t tell” policy where gay people could stay in the military provided they didn’t disclose their sexuality and prohibited military personnel from asking about someone’s sexuality.

 

That policy was ended in 2011, although ongoing litigation over same sex marriage benefits and discrimination continue.

 

Transgender people were briefly permitted, but President Donald Trump ordered them expelled from the military in 2018.

 

For more information and related images, see flic.kr/s/aHskcVHcxD

 

The image is courtesy of the D.C. Public Library Washington Star Collection © Washington Post.

Gloria De Piero Topless Photos #Labour hypocrites #bbcqt #bbcdp #Newsnight #bbcnews #skynews #skypapers #bbcpapers ow.ly/pV5mJ Gloria De Piero claims that a paper is after topless photos of her: "I have talked about why I posed for these pictures in interviews before. I...

Divorce is a Sin!

 

"For the LORD, the God of Israel, saith that he hateth putting away..." —Malachi 2:16

  

"Wherefore they are no more twain, but one flesh. What therefore God hath joined together, let not man put asunder." —Matthew 19:6

 

Divorce is a sin! Perhaps you may think that marriage is the "old fashioned" way. If that is your thought on marriage, then let me say that marriage is the "right way" as well. It does not matter what has changed over time, marriage will always be the right way within the sacred boundaries of God's law. Marriage is right between a man and a woman!

 

There is no perfect marriage. There are no perfect families. You always get the good with the bad...such is life. It is ok for a marriage to hit some potholes in the road. These cannot be completely avoided simply because we are all human beings prone to anger and disobedience against God. We are going to hit some potholes in the road; however, it is those open manhole covers that we need to watch out for. It is unrealistic to believe that you can live with another human being for any length of time without eventually having cross words between each other, etc.

 

A marriage should be based upon one another's love for each other. Unfortunately, many marriages today are based upon economics, loneliness or an unexpected pregnancy. If you are in such a marriage, it is still a legitimate marriage in the eyes of God. Perhaps you married for the wrong reasons, many people do. That is ok, you just make the best of your marriage and don't let other people interfere. Two wrongs never equal a right. Wrong is wrong! If you feel you married the wrong person, then you need to ask God to humble you. Anyone can live with anybody if they can learn to be a nobody. This whole idea of finding the perfect mate is an illusion. Remember, Romans 3:23 declares, "For all have sinned..." I don't care who you marry, they're a sinner too. We all have faults, and commit sins. Leaving one spouse for another will just bring more problems. It is not uncommon for a couple to wonder after a few years if maybe they should have married someone else. However, it is still a sin to divorce your spouse. Don't do it. If you need to separate for a time, then do so...but never ever consider a divorce. If you do, you are willingly sinning.

  

No Scriptural Grounds for Divorce!

 

In Mark 10:9 Jesus states, "What therefore God hath joined together, let not man put asunder." No one is ever to separate a husband and wife. I wouldn't want to be a judge, who grants divorces. I wouldn't want to be the lawmaker, who allows for all sorts of unscriptural grounds for divorce. And by the way, there are NO SCRIPTURAL GROUNDS FOR DIVORCE. In Matthew 5:32, Jesus said, "But I say unto you, That whosoever shall put away his wife, saving for the cause of fornication, causeth her to commit adultery: and whosoever shall marry her that is divorced committeth adultery." Carefully notice that Jesus never gave anyone permission to divorce because of adultery. What Jesus said is that a man would not be responsible for causing his wife to commit adultery, if she was ALREADY committing adultery. How could he be? To divorce your spouse is a sin, and you will also be responsible for their sinning if they remarry. But you can't be held responsible for causing your spouse to commit a sin that they're already committing. This is all Jesus meant. If committing adultery is grounds for divorce, then Matthew 5:28 gives every wife Biblical grounds to divorce.

 

Let me also say, If Jesus was willing to be despised and rejected of men, beaten to a pulp, mistreated, scorned, assaulted, spit upon, and crucified to death ... FOR US ... then we should follow Christ's example when our spouse does the same things to us. I realize that this is a Christian attitude that is as alien as an unknown solar system. Feminists and worldly thinkers cannot understand such thinking; but, it is Biblical. Jesus was willing to die for you and me. So why are professed "Christians" so quick to divorce their spouses, claiming mistreatment, abuse, extreme cruelty, etc.? I don't recall any disclaimer in the marriage vows that gives a spouse the right to divorce under ANY circumstances. What ever happened to "'Til death do us part?" I'm not hesitant to inform you, that "irreconcilable differences" is NOT found in the Bible as grounds for a divorce. There are NO Biblical grounds for divorce!!!

 

I wouldn't want to be a feminist, who sports in helping destroy other people's marriages. Many marriages have been broken up, by some carnal, malicious, feminist, woman, who convinced another man's wife to file for divorce. And tragically, MANY such feminists are found in churches all across America. Our churches need to be disinfected with a heavy dose of good old-fashionable preaching against divorce! Also, there are many carnal, self-righteous, hypocritical, sinfully proud, boastful, adulterous men, with wandering eyes, who claim to be "Christian"; but, they are home-wreckers as well, convincing other men's wives that it's ok to divorce. STOP LISTENING TO PEOPLE! People = Pain! Again, our churches need to be disinfected with a heavy dose of good old-fashionable preaching against divorce! It's a sin!

  

Divorce is a sin for a couple reasons:

 

1. Because you are breaking your marriage vows..."'til death do us part!" When you say your wedding vows, you are making a lifetime commitment. I don't care if you get married at city hall or church, God still holds you accountable for your promises and commitments. A promise is a promise!

 

2. Because God said so! "Wherefore they are no more twain, but one flesh. What therefore God hath joined together, let not man put asunder." -Matthew 19:6

 

God hates divorce! It is only because of our sinful pride and selfish ways that we end up divorced in the first place. It is so typical to hear a divorced wife, or husband, talking about how much they gave but never received anything in return. Listen friend, marriage is not a 50/50 deal as most people would lead you to believe. No! Marriage is a 100% deal. We are supposed to give 100% to our spouse, even if they only return 10%. But you say, "That's not fair!" You're right ... life's not fair! We are a spoiled bunch in America! It's sickening to know that over 50% of all marriages in America are now ending in divorce. It's our pride! "No one is going to treat me like that!" "I love him but he's just too mean." 'I'm wasting the best years of my life." If your husband is a tyrant, then you leave him until he goes for help ... but don't sin against him and God by filing for divorce. If you need money for support, get a job like everyone else! Also, why is he getting angry? People usually get angry for a valid reason. It's utterly hypocritical for a stay-at-home wife--who loafs, lies, and lacks any interest in fulfilling her wifely or motherly duties, to run file for divorce when her husband finally blows up in anger and crosses a line. You hypocrite! You push his buttons every day by telling him you'll do better; but you never do. Then you take the easy way out by filing for divorce. And to add insult to injury, you use the court system to take away his children, his house, his paycheck, his dignity, and his life. Who's the monster?

 

I love what Mrs. John R. Rice said. She said that 90% of all divorces are the woman's fault--because God created the woman for the man, and not the man for the woman. God created Adam, and then gave him a job to do. However, God created Eve with one sole purpose--Adam! Marriages usually fail because wives are rebellious against their husbands, and refuse to live for their husband. We read in 1st Peter 3:6 that Abraham's wife, Sara, called him "lord" (sir) and obeyed Abraham. This is so rare nowadays.

 

I realize some people might seem like they deserve a divorce, but we are not to give up on our spouse. God NEVER gives up on us ... Hebrews 13:5 ... NEVER! If we are to be Christ-like, then we must stand by our mate ... "for better, for worse." Did you not make that vow on your wedding day? Yes, you most certainly did! People nowadays run file for divorce when things turn for the worse. They think, "I'm outta here!" Divorce is sin!!! Wouldn't it be nice if every marriage could always be only "for better." Not really. If you never went through tough times together with your spouse, then you would never grow together. That which does not kill us makes us stronger, IF we don't throw in the towel by quitting! It is those rough times together, when you can't see your hands in front of your face, that marriages are either made stronger or destroyed.

     

Don't Divorce, Please!

 

If you are considering a divorce, I plead with you to give God a chance by giving your spouse another chance. God is willing to forgive us an infinite number of times. Surely we can learn to forgive each other. Don't allow the pressures of this crazy world to destroy your marriage. Set some priorities. Turn off the phone. Tell your friends your going to be busy spending time with your spouse for months to come. Love your spouse! Go places together. You're not going to beat the game of life which the world offers you! So stop trying to get ahead. Forget the stock market. Forget the overtime. Don't work midnight shift. Go to the park together. Do some different things. Here's an interesting statement I once heard...

 

If you do what you always did, then you'll get what you always got.

 

That's a good statement! If your marriage is on the rocks, then you've got to change something in your marriage! Think! Don't be stupid like so many people, by throwing away your marriage. I'd hate to think you simply don't care anymore. If that's you, then you need to get right with God! If your job is stressing you out, then take a break; but don't divorce. Go on Family Medical Leave (FMLA) for stress. Go to your doctor and tell him your stressed out. Hand him the FMLA form. You're protected by congress, and you can't get fired. You can take 90-days off from work. If you can't afford to miss work, then use "intermittent FMLA," so you can miss work whenever you need to. Take a break. I sincerely believe many marriages are failing because of the monotony and stress of the workplace, combined with all of life's other problems. The economy is deteriorating, good jobs are becoming scarce, insurance premiums are skyrocketing, insurance coverage is decreasing, spending power is declining, perversion is all around us, feminism and homosexuality are corrupting society, our government is run amuck, society is becoming very cold and paranoid--it all amounts to increased tension on American families (Christian included). Employees mean absolutely nothing to companies these days. These are difficult times to be married and live the American dream--of owning your own home, of saving enough money to put your kids through college someday, of living in a decent neighborhood, of having a meaningful and happy marriage, and so much more. As I once heard, "Life is what happens to you while you're making big plans." Most people place their marriage at the bottom of their list of priorities. Your marriage should come first, friends and family down on the list. By the way, church should come down on the list too. Nothing should be any higher on your list of priorities than your spouse. Only God comes higher, and God wants you to love each other above all else. If you don't, then nothing else really matters.

 

If you love your spouse, then you'll put up with him or her.

 

If you love your spouse, then you'll put up with him or her.

 

If you love your spouse, then you'll put up with him or her.

 

If you love your spouse, then you'll put up with him or her.

 

If you love your spouse, then you'll put up with him or her.

 

It's really as simple as that. If you love someone, then you'll put up with them just as God puts up with us!

 

People don't "fall" into sin. No! We choose to go into sin. We choose to hold onto our sinful pride. We choose not to love our spouse anymore with God's love. We choose to divorce. It takes two to tango. No marriage is ever only one spouse's fault. There's always two sides to every story, and then there's what really happened! The truth usually abides somewhere in the middle.

 

I always marvel that a couple can get married in a boat, on a mountain, in a church, under water, on a rollercoaster, in a park, even at the south pole; BUT, you can only be divorced IN A COURT OF LAW!

 

There's no such thing as the saying, "We used to love each other." The Bible clearly teaches that "love never faileth." Either you loved your spouse then and still do now, or else you don't love your spouse now and never did at all. True love is NOT conditional. You hang in there and be strong while your spouse is weak, for that is what God does for us.

  

God Hates Divorce!

 

You know, why is it that many people who want a divorce go around quoting Jesus' statement on adultery; but I never hear these people quote Malachi 2:16 where God say he HATES divorce, "For the LORD, the God of Israel, saith that he hateth putting away." "Putting away" is the Old Testament term used for divorce, which is an interesting phrase. The term "putting away" comes from the Hebrew word shalach, and literally means "to forsake, to cast or push away." When you divorce your spouse, you are literally shoving them away from you, forsaking them, and God HATES IT.

 

I've heard a divorced woman quote Malachi 2:14 concerning husbands who deal "treacherously" with their wives; but the context of the Scripture passage is strictly divorce. That is, a husband who divorces his wife is dealing treacherously with her, especially if they've been married for a long time. God HATES divorce! Why don't I ever heard women quoting Jeremiah 3:20... "Surely as a wife treacherously departeth from her husband, so have ye dealt treacherously with me, O house of Israel, saith the LORD." It is divorce that is treacherous.

  

Who's to Blame?

 

I realize that in some situations, a spouse may run off with someone else in adultery. The abandoned spouse is often helpless to recover their former mate. I did not write this article to condemn anyone, especially not the victim of a divorce. A gentlemen recently wrote me, saying that his wife had run off with another man and remarried. So tragic! The man was obviously very sad. In such a situation, even though the husband may have contributed to his wife's decision to leave; he is NOT guilty of committing divorce (as he did not file or agree to the divorce). When a couple promises to stay with each another "for better, for worse; 'til death do us part," that is what God expects. I wrote this article to take a Biblical stand against rebellious people (such as the gentleman's wife), who run off and abandon their spouse when the going gets tough, breaking their wedding vows, looking for an easy way out. Divorce is a sin! Howbeit, if you are the victim of a divorce (i.e., your spouse abandoned you), then you have my deepest sympathies. I realize that all the sympathy in the world won't make anything better; but, Jesus Christ can make things better if you'll lose yourself in the Lord's work of soulwinning.

 

I cannot tell you what to do, for only you can make the decisions that guide your life; BUT, If your spouse has left you and is not remarried yet, I would suggest that you call her/him and attempt to make things right. I would also suggest that you ask your pastor if he'll go with you to visit your spouse. Only sinful pride causes divorce. There have been many instances of divorced couples actually getting remarried. I realize that there are many different situations, and everyone feels that they are the victim in a divorce; but, God knows everyone's heart and WILL judge the guilty. I simply wrote this article in hopes of possibly saving a few marriages. You don't have to divorce your spouse! Divorce is a personal choice that no one MAKES you do.

 

In a situation where your spouse has abandoned you and is already remarried, you must let go. I realize this is often excruciatingly painful; but, why hold on to what doesn't exist anymore? The past can no longer hurt you; but the future can. So don't live in the unchangeable past. The past is forever gone, and now you must move forward. I cannot give you Scriptural support for what I am about to say; BUT, I believe that the victim of a divorce is free to remarry in such a situation (provided that every honest attempt has been made to reconcile the marriage relationship, and adequate time has been allowed for reconciliation--I recommend 5 years). To me, a clear distinction needs to be made between someone who is forced into adultery (remarriage, Matthew 5:32) because their spouse abandoned them; and the adulterous spouse who just didn't care at all, and left. Regardless, Jesus taught that remarriage is adultery if our first spouse is still alive; therefore, we must make every attempt to reconcile with our first spouse, to be a just as possible in the given situation.

 

Let me clarify my statement by saying...many people look for excuses to justify their divorce (sin), wrongfully exaggerating their spouse's behaviour, trying to demonize their spouse. It is NEVER right for you to leave and then remarry (because you are the guilty party for leaving). Whoever FILES for divorce is the guilty party (as far as the divorce itself). If a spouse was abusive, leading to a divorce; then God will judge that person for their abusive words and actions; BUT, that certainly does NOT justify a divorce!!! God KNOWS your every thought and intention, so no matter how much you attempt to rationalize and lie to yourself, God WILL hold you fully accountable for your words and actions on judgment day. I'm simply saying that there are two sides to every story, and then there's the TRUTH--and God will judge each divorced couple according to the TRUTH; and not their own side of the story. It is clearly adultery for any married person to run off and marry another. If you are truly a victim, then God knows your situation and I believe you are free to remarry. However, there are some men who deliberately abuse their wives, wanting her to file for divorce, so the husband can portray himself as the victim. In such cases, God will judge the wife for filing for divorce; BUT, the husband will be judged much more so, because of his tyranny and abuse.

 

In closing, divorce is a sin and should never be considered an option in any marriage. The divorce rate in America is skyrocketing because of sinful pride. It is the same sinful pride that fuels abortion, murder, homosexuality, witchcraft, gambling, pornography, and every other sin imaginable. I wrote this article with people like Amy Grant in mind, who coldheartedly walked out on her husband in 1999, to run off with Vince Gill. As believers, let us follow in the steps of our Wonderful Savior, who promised He would NEVER leave us, nor forsake us (Hebrews 13:5).

 

In Jesus' name...

 

David J. Stewart

 

"...Let not the wife depart from her husband... and let not the husband put away his wife." —1st Corinthians 7:10,11

Mike Licht, NotionsCapital.com

Who's your big brother?

slightly hypocritically Albert has turned up with a bottle of alcohol free wine as he thinks the boys drink too much. They are not impressed.

Holy Willie's Prayer (pages 21-25 of the The Glenriddel Manuscripts, which contain a selection of Burn’s poems and letters, compiled in two volumes, for presentation to Burns's friend, Robert Riddell of Glenriddell (1755-1794), during the years 1791 to 1793.) The first volume, contains copies of poems both in Burns's hand and in that of a scribe. It contains over 50 poems, most famously a full version of Holy Willie's Prayer. This is the most devastating and amusing of Burns's diatribes against the apparent hypocrisy of certain sections of his native Church. It is directed against William Fisher, a farmer in Montgarswood and an elder of Mauchline Kirk. Burns uses this hypocrite - who had initiated disciplinary action against the poet's friend, Gavin Hamilton, for failing to attend the Kirk regularly - to savage the orthodox Calvinist doctrine of double predestination. The satire was so severe that it circulated in handwritten form for some three years before its publication as part of a pamphlet. Written in August 1785, this is one of the poet's earliest satirical works on orthodox Calvinism and is the only version of the poem in Burns's hand.

More ....

 

There is something about love and then there is something about the ocean. The chemistry that is invoked between a man and a woman in intimacy is something that I have never failed to see in every couple I’ve seen at the beach. Regardless of race, religion and any social or economic scale the ocean invokes passion in a way I haven’t seen happen with anything else (maybe four large vodka’s will) on earth.

 

I’m sitting here with tripod, the silent stalker, the avid candid shooter, the secret admirer of love, the random philosopher and a confused artist. I can’t describe how love reflects a sense of good feeling and positiveness and a calm and serene midset amidst the noise that is being made by a whole bunch of Hindu extremists, Catholic hypocrites and Islamic terrorists who would consider this wonderful feeling of displaying affection in public as a heinous crime.

 

Long live Evolution and Long live love, neither of it is something that can be overthrown by a worthless quabble of religious text written by a pot addict who had nothing to do but fear women and quarantine them for sneezing and farting.

 

Canon EOS 400D with the Canon EF 75 -300 MM F/4 - 5.6 USM III. Aperture Priority, F/10 at 1/125th of a Second, ISO400, Tripod.

Shehrsabz - Green city in Uzbek language- is the city of the last of the greatest Warriors of all time, Amir Timur.

He knew Quran by heart and could learn and remember anything he wanted. He loved his city and his tribe, the original warrior race. He destroyed all pretentious Kings and insulted the hypocrites. He made minars out of the people of Isfahan when they cheated him. He made wonen of harem of Bayezid, the Ottomon Sultan, dance in front of him. Because Bayezid had abused him in a letter.

All the best craftsmen from across the Muslim world were collected and sent to Samarkand and to Shehrsabz to build his palaces, mesjids and medrassahs.

This is Aksaray palace and the new couple stood for my shot. Mubarak to you !

Holy Willie's Prayer (pages 21-25 of the The Glenriddel Manuscripts, which contain a selection of Burn’s poems and letters, compiled in two volumes, for presentation to Burns's friend, Robert Riddell of Glenriddell (1755-1794), during the years 1791 to 1793.) The first volume, contains copies of poems both in Burns's hand and in that of a scribe. It contains over 50 poems, most famously a full version of Holy Willie's Prayer. This is the most devastating and amusing of Burns's diatribes against the apparent hypocrisy of certain sections of his native Church. It is directed against William Fisher, a farmer in Montgarswood and an elder of Mauchline Kirk. Burns uses this hypocrite - who had initiated disciplinary action against the poet's friend, Gavin Hamilton, for failing to attend the Kirk regularly - to savage the orthodox Calvinist doctrine of double predestination. The satire was so severe that it circulated in handwritten form for some three years before its publication as part of a pamphlet. Written in August 1785, this is one of the poet's earliest satirical works on orthodox Calvinism and is the only version of the poem in Burns's hand.

More ....

 

Is it sinful to be a hypocrite? I posted a picture of my Pentax MX film camera a few days ago and got some nice comments and emails about how It inspired some to leave their digital home for the day and shoot film. I felt a bit of a hypocrite that I do not have some recent film shots with that old Pentax. So this morning I went out and shot a roll. I shot black and white so I could develop it and print it at my Dad's house. Just getting used to the camera after a few years so some basic easy shots to get used to the manual focus lenses and, well, manual everything. I'm happy with how they turned out, there is some dust, scratches and fibers if you look close but I had fun and will do it again. It was strange to realize I had only 36 shots in my camera compared to hundreds if I need them on digital. I also realized as I was scanning the photos onto my computer that, ironically, these are now digital images too. But I don't feel like such a hypocrite anymore. Taken for our daily challenge - something sinful

Holy Willie's Prayer (pages 21-25 of the The Glenriddel Manuscripts, which contain a selection of Burn’s poems and letters, compiled in two volumes, for presentation to Burns's friend, Robert Riddell of Glenriddell (1755-1794), during the years 1791 to 1793.) The first volume, contains copies of poems both in Burns's hand and in that of a scribe. It contains over 50 poems, most famously a full version of Holy Willie's Prayer. This is the most devastating and amusing of Burns's diatribes against the apparent hypocrisy of certain sections of his native Church. It is directed against William Fisher, a farmer in Montgarswood and an elder of Mauchline Kirk. Burns uses this hypocrite - who had initiated disciplinary action against the poet's friend, Gavin Hamilton, for failing to attend the Kirk regularly - to savage the orthodox Calvinist doctrine of double predestination. The satire was so severe that it circulated in handwritten form for some three years before its publication as part of a pamphlet. Written in August 1785, this is one of the poet's earliest satirical works on orthodox Calvinism and is the only version of the poem in Burns's hand.

More ....

 

American Society of Buddhist Studies, 214 Centre St, 01 November 2009.

 

Members of a Buddhist temple remove a Shepard Fairey Obey Giant wheatpaste defacing their temple. Fairey was in town this week for a corporate ad gig at Levi Strauss in Times Square. Apparently, along the way he put up a bunch of obey andre giant posters all over the place including a few spots in the Lower East Side and Chinatown.

 

I don't see WHY this place should be a target of a obey giant wheatpaste. HOW is this place "establishment" "mainstream" "corporate" that would stand in the way of the so-called ideals of obey giant? THE ANSWER is that obey giant has no ideals anymore. Whatever fucking ideals Fairey had, he lost it years ago.

 

This is simply inane and bullshit corporate brand placement pure and simple. The assholes at the obey giant collective owe these people an apology.

  

A picture of a fox cub with food I've left for them, back in June. At least I'm honest about it, and it's often obvious anyway, as in this picture. I've read some really snidey remarks ( not aimed at me as far as I know ) about people feeding foxes and badgers, those hypocrites almost certainly feed birds in their gardens and I don't see any difference. In fact foxes and badgers are so badly persecuted ( robins, blue tits etc. generally aren't ) if I can make their lives slightly easier by providing a little bit of food then it's some recompense for the hundreds of years of persecution at our hands. Especially as we approach the time of year when scumbags go ' cubbing ' ( deliberately killing this years fox cubs ), it's hard enough for cubs to survive when they leave home without everyone trying to slaughter them. They need as good a start as they can get to make it just as far as their first birthday.

 

Some people also seem to confuse feeding foxes and badgers with attempting to tame them, more often than not with ' my ' foxes and badgers I'm not even there when they eat the food, I've never made any attempt to tame an animal and never will, especially with highly vulnerable creatures like foxes and badgers. All wild animals need to fear humans, I understand the appeal of say, hand-feeding a fox or badger ( and I know people who do and I don't question their motives at all ) but I'm not convinced that an animal can trust ( or tolerate ) one person while maintaining their healthy fear of the rest of humanity. I might be wrong but that's the way it seems to me.

 

Just wanted to get that off my chest : ) I've written more or less the same thing out before but then changed my mind in case I offend someone. It's just that some holier-than-though professionals ( possibly on Facebook ) drive me mad constantly going on in a pompous and arrogant way that they're photographers of peerless integrity, unlike us amateur ' peasants '. I know that so-called pros have to talk themselves up to make a living out of it but some of them just come across as stuck up and condescending arseholes. One of these photographers was complaining about ' amateurs ' allowing people to use their images for free because it undermines their living, I can see how that's frustrating but when someone ( even ' peasants ' like us ) takes a photograph it is their property and they can do what they damn well like with it !

 

Oh god, while I'm in full rant you probably hear some people referring to ' making ' a picture, I wonder what difference they see between ' taking ' a picture and making one ?

 

And another thing ! At what point do some photographers become ' Fine Art Photographers ', is there an exam to pass or something ? I can barely comprehend the arrogance and inflated ego of anyone that could refer to themselves in that way.

 

Phew, need a good lie down now : )

  

I love to write from this self-imposed quarantine. My quarantine is perhaps less extreme than yours. I have ‘him indoors’, who apparently can forgive me anything, whilst you have your beloved four-legged companions, who are also unconditional in their devotion to you, so both of us seem to be somewhat capable of doing this, managing seclusion that is.

 

Of course, I would never put pressure on you to visit. That would be more than hypocritical. We have chosen not to fly for 11 years now, so I would never encourage anyone else to, not anymore at least. The Netherlands might turn out to be somewhat of a disappointment anyway, not being as ‘liberal’ or as ‘free’ as people universally imagine. It is probably better than most places, but the rot has set in universally, I am afraid.

 

I do sort of understand you choosing dogs over people though. The last few years have been a period of cutting off, of self-quarantining. That’s had more to do with coming to terms with the sexual abuse in my childhood than anything else. I am afraid I might have traversed every possible boundary with people, friends I mean, so I decided to remove myself. What followed after that proved to be more fruitful, and I have been happier since then too. I suspect this might reverberate for you too. I see it as somewhat of an ‘Irish Problem’, that might also mean something to you, given your saying to me that you would have real problems returning there. I will never go back there again. My last trip there, with ‘Him Indoors’, was my last visit there, or anywhere. He wanted to see it, so we went to a family wedding (since divorced). At least they do have divorce there now.

 

So now I am writing it all down to the best of my ability, fading memory allowing. Making art has fallen away mainly due to the incredible expense. I had one large show here, in Amsterdam, some ten years ago, and stopped making after that. I nearly bankrupted us! Was it not always so? I have no trouble bankrupting myself, but the idea of bankrupting ‘Hi’ (my acronym for ‘him indoors’) as well was not really tenable. Now I write, and it uses all of the same muscles, and the only expense is the external hard-drive, attached to my computer. Storage is no real problem. I have also written all my life, why they even gave me a doctorate for it, so I am now trying to work that into a ‘fiction’, embracing two pandemics, from HIV to Covid, though the way things are going, I might have to include Monkeypox too, and a possible World War 3. Trying to write about these with some humour, and ‘Hope’ even, is proving to be quite a challenge.

 

You know I traverse boundaries, sometimes unfairly, but I fear that this is the nature of the beast (something I am struggling to contain). We even started off that way, with you so instantly agreeing to pose for the very first Icon. It was a very extreme beginning, that asking you to stand naked, holding one object you thought defined you, whilst also holding a prophylactic, something I defined as our only ‘suit of armour’ in a time of that sexually generated plague. I said that I, in turn, would mount you in 24 carat Gold, acknowledging both your ‘sainthood’ and ‘godlike’ status. You were the first. I want to thank you for trusting me. I sort of knew what I was doing. It seemed very clear to me that we had to be acknowledged, by we, I mean us transgressors, us people living outside the norm. I don’t mean choosing to live outside that norm either, I mean more their finding themselves there simply because of who they were. There was no choice, none at all. Regardless of the choices we think we make, I see us just as being ourselves reacting to our environment and attempting to ensure our own continuance, a real ‘survival of the un-fittest’, if there ever was one. Even the unfittest survive until they don’t, and their demise, that slinking off, is deserving of description, perhaps as an adjunct to Mr. Darwin’s thesis. We watched each other fall. I won’t go as far as saying that the best fell, some did, and some survived, ditto some of the 'worst' did one or the other. We watched, we struggled to survive, and described as best we could.

 

I will probably generate acronyms for all involved, living breathing cyphers. Then there are other made up names: Rack is Rack, and I am, of course, Ruin, rampaging Rack and Ruin even, so there is possibly room for those types of names, non-specific, but possibly tribal, identifiers: Rack, Ruin, Sorcha (meaning Light, as you know), Hi (Him indoors, of course), and whatever. Perhaps you can be your 'Do(g)nut'. I haven’t quite worked that one out yet, though I do have 400,000 words approximately to hang these names on. One could be Dream, even. Aisling is the Gaelic name derived from Dream. But the words are more or less already there, generated by 20 years of writing emails. Initially I was trying to write something built out of these emails and responses, but now I sort of realise that I cannot use the responses, that I have to somehow generate the ‘characters’ through my responses to them.

 

It's like trying to create characters out of a vacuum, but then, if the truth be told, that is exactly what ‘fiction’ is.

 

So here we are, you are now very much included, at the beginning of this ‘story’. I won’t use what you reply, what you write, but I will use what you provoke in me, what you cause me to remember and there will be a picture built of you, another one.

 

This time you can keep all your clothes on.

 

There’s a strange ‘Hope’ in bothering to try to make art or to write, and both are very easy to be cynical about. Cynicism is possibly the easiest route to take, and the saddest too. I see that it always demands a slightly religious fervour, the making process, so I understand why this cynicism is generated. We are awash in plagues, some of us have been for the last 40 years, even, and longer. There are also, of course, wars and rumours of wars, and the tyranny imposed by dictators, including those Fortune 500 companies, so the very idea that there might be a future where people might read, or choose to even look at art, or simply that there might be even people, at all, there to indulge in both ‘rarified luxuries’ seems to be in that balance, or lack of balance. Nadezhda Mandelstam described it, in her memoir ‘Hope Against Hope’, as the obligation that each of us has to scream out against injustice, so that it might echo out there, even if the universe is busily, with our help, emptying itself.

 

But then one has to chuckle to oneself at the idea that we could empty infinity, that arrogance is sublimely human. Hope, perhaps, resides in that chuckle too.

 

There it is, that double-mask of comedy and tragedy combined.

 

Mitt Romney, in traditional hunting attire accessorized with a dog whistle and a Morman pin, riding a Republican Elephant. The elephant is traversing a landscape cluttered with a Tea Party hunting dog, a Don't Tread on Me" rattle snake, and loose money. A raven or crow is perched on the elephant's trunk symbolizing "The Trickster." The Citzens United plane is carpet bombing the scene with campaign dollars.

  

Willard Mitt Romney aka Mitt Romney is a former Governor of Massachusetts and a perenial Republican presidential candidate. He is a Republican presidential candidate for 2012.

 

Image sources:

Mitt Romney's face: CC from nmfbihop's Flickr photostream.

Elephant: CC from Visnu Pitiyanuvath's Flickr photostream.

Crow / Raven: : CC from Grand Canyon NPS Flickr Photostream.

Fox hunter and hunting dog: a photo by Carol Highsmith available via the Library of Congress.

Rattle Snake: CC's from plural's flickr photostream and Jeffery Love's flickr photostream.

Jet: a photo from Nasa.

 

CC = Creative Commons licensed photo.

probably from mid-1970's. Columbia SC.

Buildings damage is shown on the west side of 14th Street NW looking south at Monroe Street toward Park Rd. April 9, 1968 after the city quieted following widespread civil disturbances that broke out after the assassination of Rev. Dr. Martin Luther King Jr.

 

The city exploded in anger at the news and experienced among the greatest property damage of the more than 125 cities that erupted April 4-7, 1968 and set a then U.S. record for mass arrests when more than 6,100 were detained.

 

Twelve died, mostly due to becoming entrapped in burning buildings and over 1,100 were injured. Property damage was extensive in a number of corridors: 14th Street NW, 7th Street NW, U Street NW, H Street NE and Nichols Ave SE (later Martin Luther King Jr. Ave) were set afire. 1,200 buildings were burned.

 

Washington, D.C. had been simmering before King’s assassination.

 

Clarence J. Brooker was shot in the back on Minnesota Ave. NE May 7, 1967 sparking protests, including a sit-in at the District Building. On May 23, 1967, two youths were shot at a playground by a police officer that sparked another round of demonstrations.

 

A standoff with police began August 1, 1967 when lines of officers began moving a crowd back from a burning Salas furniture store at 1307 7th Street NW. Dozens threw rocks and bottles at police who responded in turn with billy clubs.

 

The outbreak occurred at about 12:30 am and lasted until about 3:00 a.m. resulting in 11 fires, 50 store windows broken and 34 arrests.

 

The disturbance area was confined to 7th Street between K and P NW and on 13th & 14th Streets NW near U Street—two areas that would be hit hard following King’s murder.

 

Dozens of other cities had already experienced widespread rebellion against authority including New York, Watts and Newark along with dozens of outbreaks in smaller cities..

 

In the immediate aftermath of King’s assassination, 125 cities across the country experienced a social breakdown.

 

In Washington, D.C. mainstream black leaders such as the appointed mayor Walter Washington and singer James Brown urged black people to contain their anger and leave the streets.

 

Some white leaders blamed “agitators” such as Maryland Senator Daniel Brewster who called for former SNCC leader Stokely Carmichael’s arrest after Carmichael held a press conference at SNCC headquarters in D.C. and also gave a speech at Howard University calling on black people to arm themselves.

 

The full text of Carmichael’s press conference is here: flic.kr/p/Rqtckc

 

Newspapers were filled quotes from residents both black and white decrying the burning and looting.

 

But the tens of thousands of black people who took part had a different point of view.

 

Reginald Booker, a black activist primarily known for his anti-freeway work, gave his thoughts in a May 1, 1968 hearing of the appointed city council at Eastern High School on Rehabilitation of District of Columbia Areas Damaged by Civil Disorders that was later incorporated into congressional testimony on the issue.

 

Booker started off calling the disturbances a “revolution” and defended the property destruction and looting.

 

“The burning, the devastation, you can call it riots, you can call it looting. I know what black people call it and I know what I call it.”

 

“Any time oppressed people are so denied, and so oppressed, and the channels of the so-called usual mechanisms of dealing with these ills, if they cannot solve the problems, then black people and all other people have the right to burn and bring destruction if that alleviates their misery.”

 

“Does it take burning? Does it take looting? Of course, I know the people who were looting, they were only taking back what was theirs all the time.”

 

“I know they were taking back what was theirs because when the rebellion broke out, I was right out there in the street with my people.”

 

“Now, a whole lot of those hypocritical white folks, they said, ‘well, look they even burned down some of their own people so it couldn’t have been racial. They were just out to steal something.’”

 

“How can you steal from a crook?”

 

“It was pointed out recently, for example, that Safeway, on the day that welfare recipients receive checks, raise their prices.”

 

“Recently the Washington Post ran a series of stories on certain credit merchants on 7th Street, on how they exploit black people. How can you buy a TV that is worth $50 and end up paying $300-plus for it, and then if you don’t make all the payments it is repossessed and the man sells it over about 10 times again?”

 

Press reports indicated that certain businesses were clearly targeted, including Safeway and so-called easy credit businesses.

 

For more information and related images, see flic.kr/s/aHsk4zGPDw

 

Photo by F. Routt. The image is courtesy of the D.C. Public Library Washington Star Collection © Washington Post.

 

Mitt Romney, in traditional hunting attire accessorized with a dog whistle and a Morman pin, riding a Republican Elephant. The elephant is traversing a landscape cluttered with a Tea Party hunting dog, a Don't Tread on Me" rattle snake, and loose money. A raven or crow is perched on the elephant's trunk symbolizing "The Trickster." The Citzens United plane is carpet bombing the scene with campaign dollars.

  

Willard Mitt Romney aka Mitt Romney is a former Governor of Massachusetts and a perenial Republican presidential candidate. He is a Republican presidential candidate for 2012.

 

Image sources:

Mitt Romney's face: CC from nmfbihop's Flickr photostream.

Elephant: CC from Visnu Pitiyanuvath's Flickr photostream.

Crow / Raven: : CC from Grand Canyon NPS Flickr Photostream.

Fox hunter and hunting dog: a photo by Carol Highsmith available via the Library of Congress.

Rattle Snake: CC's from plural's flickr photostream and Jeffery Love's flickr photostream.

Jet: a photo from Nasa.

 

CC = Creative Commons licensed photo.

Let's see, now.

 

The Mayor sends his kids to private schools as he eviscerates the public schools and fires and demoralizes teachers and staff.

 

Chicago's outlying neighborhoods have been walloped by foreclosures, especially Bronzeville, Englewood and parts of the west side. Even before the 2008 meltdown, entire blocks in these neighborhoods were vacant, without a building left standing.

 

Chicago lost nearly 200,000 people between 2000 and 2010. It has lost nearly a third of its population since 1950.

 

Speaker Boehner allows the Tea Party to bring our country to the brink of default so they can score political points against President Obama. One of the Tea Party's leading hypocrite nut jobs, Rep. Joe Walsh, who publicly called the President of the United States a liar and has been lecturing him about "fiscal responsibility" for months, is revealed in a lawsuit by his ex-wife to owe $100,000 in alimony and child support for his 3 children.

 

So children glimpsing painted-on panties on a fully-clothed statue of an actress who has been dead almost 50 years is the least of our problems. Good Lord, the MPAA censors (who still did the "ladder test" on the cleavage in actresses' costumes in 1955) allowed this movie to be seen by anyone with 75 cents to get into the theater. If those children have brothers and sisters and their parents accidentally left the master bedroom door open, they've probably seen (or heard) much more than Marilyn cooing as the breeze from the subway sends her pleated skirt airborne.

This guy has an interesting story to tell.

An excerpt:

 

I am embarking on a journey unlike most get to experience. Some call me crazy; others call me stupid. I say I’m both.

 

My purpose in this endeavor is to belittle the difference between norm and exception and justify the worth of each soul. Every day I witness the “hierarchy of men” put one man’s worth beneath the next until it reaches rock bottom; homelessness.

 

I am a hypocrite in a sense.

 

I've come to appreciate the dynamics of life, how humans change, how we were once dull and superficial compared to how we are now that we've grown and learned.

 

But for some reason, and I don't know why, I saw homeless people as the exception to the rule. They weren't people who used to have a family and a home. They weren't people who have grown and changed. They were just constant pores peppered in our lives every once in a while. They were snapshots of life: never changing, never learning, never growing.

 

I convinced myself of these falsities while growing up, being hesitant in approaching “homeless people”. Only offering a helping hand at church service projects or Thanksgiving and Christmas.

 

I grew disappointed in myself, for judging the unknown. For assuming they are worthless just because they don’t sleep in a bed with covers.

 

I wanted to make a change; I wanted to taste of their hardships. So, I bought a van for $500 and moved in. I began talking to “homeless” people and found they are just like every other person I have come to know. They have a story. And I noticed that the only difference between them and me is that they have more trials. They still eat, they still worship, and they still love. I realized they aren’t homeless just because they’re houseless.

 

Three things are certain in life: death, taxes, and a life-story to tell.

 

I’m here to tell theirs.

  

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