Showing posts with label Hekate. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Hekate. Show all posts

Sunday, 12 February 2017

Designing Women




"The Baron has little waxed tips of hair under his nose, like the short antennae of an insect. These quivered with amusement as he listened, and he finally broke into a gentle chuckle. 

" 'Excuse my amusement, Mr. Holmes,' said he, 'but it is really funny to see you trying to play a hand with no cards in it. I don't think anyone could do it better, but it is rather pathetic all the same. Not a colour card there, Mr. Holmes, nothing but the smallest of the small.' 

" 'So you think.' 

" 'So I know. Iet me make the thing clear to you, for my own hand is so strong that I can afford to show it. I have been fortunate enough to win the entire affection of this lady. This was given to me in spite of the fact that I told her very clearly of all the unhappy incidents in my past life. I also told her that certain wicked and designing persons -- I hope you recognize yourself -- would come to her and tell her these things. and I warned her how to treat them. You have heard of post-hypnotic suggestion. Mr. Holmes ' Well you will see how it works for a man of personality can use hypnotism without any vulgar passes or tomfoolery. So she is ready for you and, I have no doubt, would give you an appointment, for she is quite amenable to her father's will -- save only in the one little matter.' 

"Well, Watson, there seemed to be no more to say, so I took my leave with as much cold dignity as I could summon, but, as I had my hand on the door-handle, he stopped me.

" 'By the way, Mr. Holmes,' said he, 'did you know Le Brun, the French agent?' 

" 'Yes,' said I. 

" 'Do you know what befell him?' 

"'I heard that he was beaten by some Apaches in the Montmartre district and crippled for life.' 

" 'Quite true, Mr. Holmes. By a curious coincidence he had been inquiring into my affairs only a week before. Don't do it, Mr. Holmes; it's not a lucky thing to do. Several have found that out. My last word to you is, go your own way and let me go mine. Good-bye!' 

"So there you are, Watson. You are up to date now." 

"The fellow seems dangerous."

"Mighty dangerous. I disregard the blusterer, but this is the sort of man who says rather less than he means." 

"Must you interfere? Does it really matter if he marries the girl?" 

"Considering that he undoubtedly murdered his last wife, I should say it mattered very much. Besides, the client! Well, well, we need not discuss that. When you have finished your coffee you had best come home with me, for the blithe Shinwell will be there with his report." 

We found him sure enough, a huge, coarse, red-faced, scorbutic man, with a pair of vivid black eyes which were the only external sign of the very cunning mind within. It seems that he had dived down into what was peculiarly his kingdom, and beside him on the settee was a brand which he had brought up in the shape of a slim, flame-like young woman with a pale, intense face, youthful, and yet so worn with s v½ in and sorrow that one read the terrible years which had left their leprous mark upon her. 

"This is Miss Kitty Winter," said Shinwell Johnson, waving his fat hand as an introduction. "What she don't know -- well, there, she'll speak for herself. Put my hand right on her, Mr. Holmes, within an hour of your message." 

"I'm easy to find," said the young woman. "Hell, London, gets me every time. Same address for Porky Shinwell. We're old mates, Porky, you and I. But, by cripes! there is another wht to be down in a lower hell than we if there was any justice in the world! That is the man you are after, Mr. Holmes."

Holmes smiled. "I gather we have your good wishes, Miss Winter." 

"If I can help to put him where he belongs, I'm yours to the rattle," said our visitor with fierce energy. There was an intensity of hatred in her white, set face and her blazing eyes such as woman seldom and man never can attain. 

"You needn't go into my past, Mr. Holmes. That's neither here nor there. But what I am Adelbert Gruner made me. If I could pull him down!" She clutched frantically with her hands into the air. "Oh, if I could only pull him into the pit where he has pushed so many!" 

"You know how the matter stands?" 

"Porky Shinwell has been telling me. He's after some other poor fool and wants to marry her this time. You want to stop it. Well, you surely know enough about this devil to prevent any decent girl in her senses wanting to be in the same parish with him." 



"She is not in her senses. She is madly in love. She has been told all about him. She cares nothing."

"Told about the murder?"

"Yes." 

"My Lord, she must have a nerve!" 

"She puts them all down as slanders." 

"Couldn't you lay proofs before her silly eyes?" 

"Well, can you help us do so?" 

"Ain't I a proof myself? If I stood before her and told her how he used me --" 

"Would you do this?"

"Would I? Would I not!"

"Well, it might be worth trying. But he has told her most of his sins and had pardon from her, and I understand she will not reopen the question." 

"I'll lay he didn't tell her all," said Miss Winter. "I caught a glimpse of one or two murders besides the one that made such a fuss. He would speak of someone in his velvet way and then look at me with a steady eye and say: 'He died within a month.' It wasn't hot air, either. But I took little notice -you see, I loved him myself at that time. Whatever he did went with me, same as with this poor fool! There was just one thing that shook me. Yes, by cripes! if it had not been for his poisonous, lying tongue that explains and soothes. I'd have left him that very night. It's a book he has -- a brown leather book with a lock, and his arms in gold on the outside. I think he was a bit drunk that night, or he would not have shown it to me."

"What was it, then?"



"I tell you. Mr. Holmes. this man collects women, and takes a pride in his collection. as some men collect moths or butterflies. He had it all in that book. Snapshot photographs. names, details, everything about them. It was a beastly book -- a book no man, even if he had come from the gutter, could have put together. But it was Adelbert Gruner's book all the same. 'Souls I have ruined.' He could have put that on the outside if he had been so minded. However, that's neither here nor there, for the book would not serve you, and, if it would, you can't get it." 

"Where is it?" 

"How can I tell you where it is now? It's more than a year since I left him. I know where he kept it then. He's a precise, tidy cat of a man in many of his ways, so maybe it is still in the pigeon-hole of the old bureau in the inner study. Do you know his house?" 

"I've been in the study," said Holmes. 

"Have you. though? You haven't been slow on the job if you only started this morning. Maybe dear Adelbert has met his match this time. The outer study is the one with the Chinese crockery in it -- big glass cupboard between the windows. Then behind his desk is the door that leads to the inner study -- a small room where he keeps papers and things." 

"Is he not afraid of burglars?"

"Adelbert is no coward. His worst enemy couldn't say that of him. He can look after himself. There's a burglar alarm at night. Besides, what is there for a burglar -- unless they got away with all this fancy crockery?" 

"No good," said Shinwell Johnson with the decided voice of the expert. "No fence wants stuff of that sort that you can neither melt nor sell." 

"Quite so," said Holmes. "Well, now, Miss Winter. if you would call here tomorrow evening at five. I would consider in the meanwhile whether your suggestion of seeing this lady personally may not be arranged. I am exceedingly obliged to you lor vour cooperation. I need not say that my clients will consider liberally --" 



"None of that, Mr. Holmes," cried the young woman. "I am not out for money. Let me see this man in the mud, and I've got all I've worked for -- in the mud with my foot on his cursed face. That's my price. I'm with you tomorrow or any other day so long as you are on his track. Porky here can tell you always where to find me." 

I did not see Holmes again until the following evening when we dined once more at our Strand restaurant. He shrugged his shoulders when I asked him what luck he had had in his interview. Then he told the story, which I would repeat in this way. His hard, dry statement needs some little editing to soften it into the terms of real life. 

"There was no difficulty at all about the appointment," said Holmes, "for the girl glories in showing abject filial obedience in all secondary things in an attempt to atone for her flagrant breach of it in her engagement. The General phoned that all was ready, and the fiery Miss W. turned up according to schedule, so that at half-past five a cab deposited us outside 104 Berkeley Square, where the old soldier resides -- one of those awful gray London castles which would make a church seem frivolous. A footman showed us into a great yellow-curtained drawing-room, and there was the lady awaiting us, demure, pale, self-contained, as inflexible and remote as a snow image on a mountain.

"I don't quite know how to make her clear to you, Watson. Perhaps you may meet her before we are through, and you can use your own gift of words. She is beautiful, but with the ethereal other-world beauty of some fanatic whose thoughts are set on high. I have seen such faces in the pictures of the old masters of the Middle Ages. How a beastman could have laid his vile paws upon such a being of the beyond I cannot imagine. You may have noticed how extremes call to each other, the spiritual to the animal, the cave-man to the angel. You never saw a worse case than this. 

"She knew what we had come for, of course -- that villain had lost no time in poisoning her mind against us. Miss Winter's advent rather amazed her, I think, but she waved us into our respective chairs like a reverend abbess receiving two rather leprous mendicants. If your head is inclined to swell. my dear Watson, take a course of Miss Violet de Merville. 

" 'Well, sir,' said she in a voice like the wind from an iceberg, 'your name is familiar to me. You have called. as I understand, to malign my fiance, Baron Gruner. It is only by my father's request that I see you at all, and I warn you in advance that anything you can say could not possibly have the slightest effect upon my mind.' 

"I was sorry for her, Watson. I thought of her for the moment as I would have thought of a daughter of my own. I am not often eloquent. I use my head, not my heart. But I really did plead with her with all the warmth of words that I could find in my nature. I pictured to her the awful position of the woman who only wakes to a man's character after she is his wife -- a woman who has to submit to be caressed by bloody hands and lecherous lips. I spared her nothing -- the shame, the fear, the agony, the hopelessness of it all. All my hot words could not bring one tinge of colour to those ivory cheeks or one gleam of emotion to those abstracted eyes. I thought of what the rascal had said about a post-hypnotic influence. One could really believe that she was living above the earth in some ecstatic dream. Yet there was nothing indefinite in her replies. 

" 'I have listened to you with patience, Mr. Holmes,' said she. 'The effect upon my mind is exactly as predicted. I am aware that Adelbert, that my fiance, has had a stormy life in which he has incurred bitter hatreds and most unjust aspersions. You are only the last of a series who have brought their slanders before me. Possibly you mean well, though I learn that you are a paid agent who would have been equally willing to act for the Baron as against him. But in any case I wish you to understand once for all that I love him and that he loves me, and that the opinion of all the world is no more to me than the twitter of those birds outside the window. If his noble nature has ever for an instant fallen, it may be that I have been specially sent to raise it to its true and lofty level. I am not clear' -- here she turned eyes upon my companion -- 'who this young lady may be.' 



"I was about to answer when the girl broke in like a whirlwind. If ever you saw flame and ice face to face, it was those two women. 

" 'I'll tell you who I am,' she cried, springing out of her chair, her mouth all twisted with passion -- 'I am his last mistress. I am one of a hundred that he has tempted and used and ruined and thrown into the refuse heap, as he will you also. Your refuse heap is more likely to be a grave, and maybe that's the best. I tell you, you foolish woman, if you marry this man he'll be the death of you. It may be a broken heart or it may be a broken neck, but he'll have you one way or the other. It's not out of love for you I'm speaking. I don't care a tinker's curse whether you live or die. It's out of hate for him and to spite him and to get back on him for what he did to me. But it's all the same, and you needn't look at me like that, my fine lady, for you may be lower than I am before you are through with it.

" 'I should prefer not to discuss such matters,' said Miss de Merville coldly. 'Let me say once for all that I am aware of three passages in my fiance's life in which he became entangled with designing women, and that I am assured of his hearty repentance for any evil that he may have done.' 

" 'Three passages!' screamed my companion. 'You fool! You unutterable fool!' 

" 'Mr. Holmes, I beg that you will bring this interview to an end,' said the icy voice. 'I have obeyed my father's wish in seeing you, but I am not compelled to listen to the ravings of this person.' 

"With an oath Miss Winter darted forward, and if I had not caught her wrist she would have clutched this maddening woman by the hair. I dragged her towards the door and was lucky to get her back into the cab without a public scene, for she was beside herself with rage. In a cold way I felt pretty furious myself, Watson, for there was something indescribably annoying in the calm aloofness and supreme self-complaisance of the woman whom we were trying to save. So now once again you know exactly how we stand, and it is clear that I must plan some fresh opening move, for this gambit won't work. I'll keep in touch with you, Watson, for it is more than likely that you will have your part to play, though it is just possible that the next move may lie with them rather than with us." 






Saturday, 4 February 2017

A Diary of the Alive



Hey. I know it's been a while. 

I'm gonna be honest, I forgot about you. 

After the farm, we were always moving. But something happened. Something good. Finally. 

We found a prison. 

Daddy thinks that we can make it into a home. He says we can grow crops in the field, find pigs and chickens, stop running, stop scavenging. Lori's baby is just about due. She'll need a safe place when it comes. The rest of us, we just need a safe place to be. 

I woke up in my own bed yesterday. My own bed in my own room. But I've been keeping my backpack. Keeping my gun close. 

I've been afraid to get my hopes up thinking we can actually stay here. The thing is, I've been starting to get afraid that it's easier just to be afraid. 

But this morning Daddy said something. If you don't have hope, what's the point of living? So I unpacked my bag and I found you. 

So I'm gonna start writing in you again. And I'm gonna write this down now because you should write down wishes to make them come true. 

We can live here. 

We can live here for the rest of our lives.

Thursday, 12 June 2014

Isis


We are told today: 

Mosul, and up to 1/4 of the area of Iraq and modern Mesopotamia, including all of the province of Ninevah has come under the control of Isis in less than a day, and almost without a fight;

The Americans took 3 weeks to get that far - Life trumps Shock & Awe. 

The 1700 fighters seemingly took the town, and much of the surrounding countryside, almost without firing a shot - the deserting/defecting Iraqi Army obliging left much, if not all of it's military equipment abandoned for the brigands to comandeer, and so the fledging Caliphate is now well-equipped for Civil Defence and future, far more ambitious operations to expand their territory

(and ultimately, attack Iran, and cleanse the Shi'ia appostates and heretics, no doubt.)

Tel Aviv must be delighted.

Initial reports told that anywhere between 150,000 and 500,000 local residents had fled their homes and become internally displaced refugees; 

Subsequent reports have suggested that many, if not all of them, have now returned home, absent any actual danger to lives or property, or the chastity of their womenfolk.

(Which certainly cannot be said to be the case with any areas under the control of the Iraqi Army, very different to, and totally unlike the Syrian Army, which is built upon a basic foundational grounding in the integrity of the Syrian Arab Republic and the Monopoly on Law and Armed Force which is it's core, fundamental and ideological underpinning, and the hallmark of the modern, viable nation-state - in Iraq, this is completely absent.)

Isis "has ties to al-Qaeda" - 

“If you're not careful, the newspapers will have you hating the people who are being oppressed, and loving the people who are doing the oppressing.” 
Malcolm X


So-called ISIS Militants "with ties to al-Qaeda" - most certainly not the brigands of the Nusra front, also known as the Arab Legion of NATO Command, that kill multuculturalists and secularists, cut out and eat their hearts.

"These people? You want to fund these people?

I hardly think we should be giving money to those who kill their enemies and eat their organs..."

- Vladamir Putin, 
Q&A with David Cameron, 
2012 G8 Conference



Pazuzu, Demon-God of the North Wind, Bringer of Locusts, Lord of the Flies.
Ninevah, Northern Iraq, 1973.

The Clash of Civilisations