Showing posts with label Lektor. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Lektor. Show all posts

Friday 12 January 2024

Man on The Moon

 


All men dream : but not equally, Those who dream by night in the dusty recesses of their minds wake in the day to find that it was vanity

But the dreamers of the day are dangerous men, for they may act their dream with open eyes, to make it possible






The story which follows was first written out in Paris during the Peace Conference, from notes jotted daily on the march, strengthened by some reports sent to my chiefs in Cairo. Afterwards, in the autumn of 1919, this first draft and some of the notes were lost. It seemed to me historically needful to reproduce the tale, as perhaps no one but myself in Feisal's army had thought of writing down at the time what we felt, what we hoped, what we tried. So it was built again with heavy repugnance in London in the winter of 1919-20 from memory and my surviving notes. The record of events was not dulled in me and perhaps few actual mistakes crept in—except in details of dates or numbers—but the outlines and significance of things had lost edge in the haze of new interests.

Dates and places are correct, so far as my notes preserved them: but the personal names are not. Since the adventure some of those who worked with me have buried themselves in the shallow grave of public duty. Free use has been made of their names. Others still possess themselves, and here keep their secrecy. Sometimes one man carried various names. This may hide individuality and make the book a scatter of featureless puppets, rather than a group of living people: but once good is told of a man, and again evil, and some would not thank me for either blame or praise.

This isolated picture throwing the main light upon myself is unfair to my British colleagues. Especially I am most sorry that I have not told what the non-commissioned of us did. They were but wonderful, especially when it is taken into account that they had not the motive, the imaginative vision of the end, which sustained officers. Unfortunately my concern was limited to this end, and the book is just a designed procession of Arab freedom from Mecca to Damascus. It is intended to rationalize the campaign, that everyone may see how natural the success was and how inevitable, how little dependent on direction or brain, how much less on the outside assistance of the few British. It was an Arab war waged and led by Arabs for an Arab aim in Arabia.

My proper share was a minor one, but because of a fluent pen, a free speech, and a certain adroitess of brain, I took upon myself, as I describe it, a mock primacy. In reality I never had any office among the Arabs: was never in charge of the British mission with them. Wilson, Joyce, Newcombe, Dawnay and Davenport were all over my head. I flattered myself that I was too young, not that they had more heart or mind in the work, I did my best. Wilson, Newcombe, Dawnay, Davenport, Buxton, Marshall, Stirling, Young, Maynard, Ross, Scott, Winterton, Lloyd, Wordie, Siddons, Goslett, Stent Henderson, Spence, Gilman, Garland, Brodie, Makins, Nunan, Leeson, Hornby, Peake, Scott-Higgins, Ramsay, Wood, Hinde, Bright, MacIndoe, Greenhill, Grisenthwaite, Dowsett, Bennett, Wade, Gray, Pascoe and the others also did their best.

It would be impertinent in me to praise them. When I wish to say ill of one outside our number, I do it: though there is less of this than was in my diary, since the passage of time seems to have bleached out men's stains. When I wish to praise outsiders, I do it: bur our family affairs are our own. We did what we set out to do, and have the satisfaction of that knowledge. The others have liberty some day to put on record their story, one parallel to mine but not mentioning more of me than I of them, for each of us did his job by himself and as he pleased, hardly seeing his friends.

In these pages the history is not of the Arab movement, but of me in it. It is a narrative of daily life, mean happenings, little people. Here are no lessons for the world, no disclosures to shock peoples. It is filled with trivial things, partly that no one mistake for history the bones from which some day a man may make history, and partly for the pleasure it gave me to recall the fellowship of the revolt. We were fond together, because of the sweep of the open places, the taste of wide winds, the sunlight, and the hopes in which we worked. The moral freshness of the world-to-be intoxicated us. We were wrought up in ideas inexpressible and vaporous, but to be fought for. We lived many lives in those whirling campaigns, never sparing ourselves: yet when we achieved and the new world dawned, the old men came out again and took our victory to re-make in the likeness of the former world they knew. Youth could win, but had not learned to keep: and was pitiably weak against age. We stammered that we had worked for a new heaven and a new earth, and they thanked us kindly and made their peace.

All men dream: but not equally, Those who dream by night in the dusty recesses oftheir minds wake in the day to find that it was vanity: but the dreamers of the day are dangerous men, for they may act their dream with open eyes, to make it possible. This I did. I meant to make a new nation, to restore! a lost influence, to give twenty millions of Semites the foundations on which to build an inspired dream-palace of their national thoughts. So high an aim called out the inherent nobility of their minds, and made them play a generous part in events: but when we won, it was charged against me that the British petrol royalties in Mesopotamia were become dubious, and French Colonial policy ruined in the Levant.

I am afraid that I hope so. We pay for these things too much in honour and in innocent lives. I went up the Tigris with one hundred Devon Territorials, young, clean, delightful fellows, full of the power of happiness and of making women and children glad. By them one saw vividly how great it was to be their kin, and English. And we were casting them by thousands into the fire to the worst of deaths, not to win the war but that the corn and rice and oil of Mesopotamia might be ours. The only need was to defeat our enemies (Turkey among them), and this was at last done in the wisdom of Allenby with less than four hundred killed, by turning to our uses the hands of the oppressed in Turkey. I am proudest of my thirty fights in that I did not have any of our own blood shed. All our subject provinces to me were not worth one dead Englishman.

We were three years over this effort and I have had to hold back many things which may not yet be said. Even so, parts of this book will be new to nearly all who see it, and many will look for familiar things and not find them. Once I reported fully to my chiefs, but learnt that they were rewarding me on my own evidence. This was not as it should be. Honours may be necessary in a professional army, as so many emphatic mentions in despatches, and by enlisting we had put ourselves, willingly or not, in the position of regular soldiers.

For my work on the Arab front I had determined to accept nothing. The Cabinet raised the Arabs to fight for us by definite promises of self-government afterwards. Arabs believe in persons, not in institutions. They saw in me a free agent of the British Government, and demanded from me an endorsement of its written promises. So I had to join the conspiracy, and, for what my word was worth, assured the men of their reward. In our two years' partnership under fire they grew accustomed to believing me and to think my Government, like myself, sincere. In this hope they performed some fine things, but, of course, instead of being proud of what we did together, I was bitterly ashamed.

It was evident from the beginning that if we won the war these promises would be dead paper, and had I been an honest adviser of the Arabs I would have advised them to go home and not risk their lives fighting for such stuff: but I salved myself with the hope that, by leading these Arabs madly in the final victory I would establish them, with arms in their hands, in a position so assured (if not dominant) that expediency would counsel to the Great Powers a fair settlement of their claims. In other words, I presumed (seeing no other leader with the will and power) that I would survive the campaigns, and be able to defeat not merely the Turks on the battlefield, but my own country and its allies in the council-chamber. It was an immodest presumption: it is not yet: clear if I succeeded: but it is clear that I had no shadow of leave to engage the Arabs, unknowing, in such hazard. I risked the fraud, on my conviction that Arab help was necessary to our cheap and speedy victory in the East, and that better we win and break our word than lose.

The dismissal of Sir Henry McMahon confirmed my belief in our essential insincerity: but I could not so explain myself to General Wingate while the war lasted, since I was nominally under his orders, and he did not seem sensible of how false his own standing was. The only thing remaining was to refuse rewards for being a successful trickster and, to prevent this unpleasantness arising, I began in my reports to conceal the true stories of things, and to persuade the few Arabs who knew to an equal reticence. In this book also, for the last time, I mean to be my own judge of what to say.

Friday 19 August 2022

Lektor


Will Graham :
Yeah, this is Will Graham of The FBI,
Dr. Chilton arranged for me to 
Talk to Dr. Lecktor. 
Hello? 

Lektor :
Hello, Will. I wanted 
to congratulate you 
for the job you did 
on Mr. Lounds. 

I admire that enormously
Oh, what a cunning boy you are, Will. 

Will Graham :
I'm sick of you crazy 
sons of bitches, Lecktor -- 

You got Something 
to Say, Say it. 

Lektor :
No, no, I Want 
to Help You...!
 
'Succession' star Brian Cox blasts 'deeply unjust' treatment of JK Rowling

Actor Brian Cox has hit out at 
the "deeply unjust" treatment 
of prominent author JK Rowling 
over her comments on 
Biological Sexuality and 
Transgender People.

"I couldn't understand 
that whole thing at all," 
Mr. Cox told Sky News 
host Piers Morgan.

"I thought there was something 
deeply unjust about it – 
I just felt that.

And it's happening time
and time again...."




Sunday 31 July 2022

Inducement


There are Things You Don't Have —

 

Will Graham :
I need Your Advice, Dr. Lecter.

Lecter :
Birmingham and Atlanta — 
You want to know 
How he's choosing them, don't you?

Will Graham :
I thought you'd 
have ideas.
I'm asking you to tell me 
what there are.

Lecter :
Why should l?

Will Graham :
There are things you don't have — 
Research materials.
Maybe even computer access.
I'd speak to the 
Chief of Staff.

Lecter :
Yes, Dr. Chilton - Gruesome, isn't he? 
He fumbles at Your head like a Freshman 
pulling at a panty girdle.


Monday 13 June 2022

I Own The Keys to Lektor’s Mind

 


That's The Same Atrocious Aftershave 
You Wore in Court --

Ma'am, are you all right?

Molly Graham, 
Wife of Will :
What? What is it?
What is it? What's going on?

Ma'am, I think
you should come back inside.

Molly Graham, 
Wife of Will :
What's going on?


Come back inside. Please.
I think you should come back inside.


Will Graham :
I'm sorry, Molly.
I'm sorry about all of this.
This place is fine.
We'll be fine.

Molly Graham, 
Wife of Will :
He's after you now, isn't he?

Will Graham :
It's just a precaution.
Kevin, why don't you run down
to the water, check out the dock?

Kevin, Son of Will Graham :
I want to hang around here.
I'm in the kitchen, Mom.

Molly Graham, 
Wife of Will :
Okay.

Will Graham :
What is that about?
What, he's afraid to leave 
you alone with me now?

He saw the article
in the Tattler, right?

Molly Graham, 
Wife of Will :
I wanted to talk with him about it,
but he said he wanted
to bring it up to you, face to face.

Will Graham :
Good for him.

Kevin, come on,
help me unpack, will ya?
Then we'll go get some groceries.

Will Graham :
You and Mom are very 
well-protected, you know.
No one's gonna find out where you are.

Kevin, Son of Will Graham :
Is there anything I need to know 
to see about Mom?

Will Graham :
No.

Kevin, Son of Will Graham :
This Guy is trying to Kill Us?

Will Graham :
We don't know that.

Kevin, Son of Will Graham :
When are you going to Kill Him?

Will Graham :
I'm not. It's only My Job to find him.

Kevin, Son of Will Graham :
Barry's mom had this newspaper.
It said you were in a special hospital.

Will Graham :
Well, it was a regular hospital,
then I was transferred into the psychiatric wing.
That bothers you, doesn't it?

Kevin, Son of Will Graham :
I don't know --
Was it because in the papers it said 
it was this man Lecktor?

Will Graham :
Mm-hm.

Kevin, Son of Will Graham :
What Happened?

Will Graham :
Well, Lecktor was attacking college girls,
then he killed them.

Kevin, Son of Will Graham :
How?

Will Graham :
In bad ways.

He was a Psychiatrist.
One of the girls was His Patient,
and I went to talk to him about her.

I tried to build Feelings in My Imagination 
like The Killer had so that I would know
WHY He Did What He Did,
because that would 
Help Me find him.

When I was sitting in Lecktor's Office 
and I looked up, I saw a book on his shelf.

It had pictures of war wounds in it.
And I knew it was him.

So I went to a pay phone down the hall 
to call The Police, 
and that's when he 
attacked me.

You and Mom, came to 
see me in the hospital,
and that helped a lot.

But after My Body got okay,
I still had His Thoughts 
going around in My Head.
And I stopped Talking to People.

And a Doctor-Friend of mine, 
a Dr. Bloom, asked me 
to get some help.
And I did.

Then after a while, I felt better,
and I was okay again.

Kevin, Son of Will Graham :
And The Way He Thought 
felt that bad?

Will Graham :
Kevin, they're The Ugliest 
Thoughts in The World.

Kevin, Son of Will Graham :
...so, what kind of coffee 
do you like?

Will Graham :
Huh?

Kevin, Son of Will Graham :
You like that Folgers stuff, right?

Will Graham :
Yeah.

Kevin, Son of Will Graham :
Mom likes that, too.....
When can we go home, Dad?

Will Graham :
I don't know, Kevin.

Molly Graham, 
Wife of Will :
So, where are things?

Will Graham :
Nowhere.

Everything we've tried is either
a dead end or it's backfired.
Crawford's already planning
the next crime scene
so that we get it fresh.
We've got about six more days
till the next full moon.

Molly Graham, 
Wife of Will :
Can you quit?

Will Graham :
No.

Molly Graham, 
Wife of Will :
What's next?

Will Graham :
I go to Atlanta.

Molly Graham, 
Wife of Will :
Crawford?

Will Graham :
No. I have to be alone.

Molly Graham, 
Wife of Will :
You're talking about doing exactly 
what you said you...

Will Graham :
This Killing, it's gotta stop.

Molly Graham, 
Wife of Will :
William, you're gonna make yourself sick
or get yourself killed.

Will Graham :
You and Kevin should go to Montana.
Go see your dad.
He hasn't seen Kevin for a long time.
And I'll come up and get you afterwards.

Friday 14 May 2021

Red





Siamese Fighting Fish, 
fascinating creatures. 

Brave, but on the whole, stupid. 

Yes, they're stupid. 

Except for the occasional ones such as we have here, 
who lets the other two fight 
while he waits. 

Waits until The Survivor 
is so exhausted 
that he cannot defend himself. 

And then, 
like SPECTRE, 
he strikes. 

I find the parallel amusing. 

Our organisation did not arrange for you to come over from the Russians just for amusement. 

Number Three. 






“A curious experience comes to Parsifal just at this moment. He is wandering about on his knight’s journey when a falcon attacks three geese in the air. Three drops of blood from one of them falls onto the snow near Parsifal and he drifts into a lover’s trance at the sight. He is transfixed by the three drops of blood and can think of nothing but Blanche Fleur. 

King Arthur’s men find him in this immobile state and two of them try to lead him to Arthur’s court. He fights them off, breaking the arm of one; he is the knight who had jeered when the maiden laughed in Arthur’s court. Parsifal had vowed to avenge her for this scorn. This vow is now completed.


Gawain, a third knight, asks Parsifal gently and humbly if he will come to Arthur’s court and Parsifal agrees.

In another version of the story, the sun melts the snow and obliterates two of the drops of blood relieving Parsifal of the spell so that he can function again. It is possible that Parsifal would still be there in his lover’s trance if the sun had not reduced the three drops of blood to one or if Gawain had not rescued him.

Curious symbolism is at work in this part of the story.”





Barbelith is the name of the “placenta” for humanity; a satellite-like object located on the dark side of the moon. It recurs throughout the story as a supernatural moon seeming both intelligent and benign

Barbelith’s role is like that of a placenta in that it connects the hologram of our subjective reality to the realm outside of our space-time, the domain of the magic mirror, and helps humans to realize their true nature beyond the subjective concept of “self”.

Prior to contact with Barbelith, most characters undergo some sort of trauma or intensity- an alien abduction or shamanic initiation, for example. A sort of cosmic “stoplight” is also present in some instances, though also seems to precede any sort of contact with the “healthy” dimension of The Invisibles binary-based paradigm; the realm of the Invisible College.
The word first appeared on a sign post in House of Heart’s Desire, a short story published in 1989 within the pages of A1, with art by Dom Regan. 



It has also cropped up in other comics Morrison has written. Doom Patrol #54 in particular goes into more detail.

Grant Morrison describes its origins as follows: “The word ‘BARBELiTH’ is derived from a dream I had when I was about 20 or 21 and coincided with my first structured ‘magical’ experiences and a minor nervous breakdown (in the dream, BARBELiTH was the name of some higher dimension or alternate reality).

Barbelith is inspired by the Philip K. Dick novel VALIS in which the titular satellite, VALIS, appears as a sort of Gnostic information-satellite for humanity.

Perhaps of note, in Sethian gnosticism, the name of the first and highest emanation of the true God (as opposed to their description of the God of the Old Testament as Ialdabaoth or the demiurge) is called Barbelo.




Come in, Kronsteen. 
Sit down, Number Three, while we listen to what Number Five has devised for us. 

I hope Kronsteen's efforts as Director of Planning will continue to be as successful as his chess. 

They will be. 
According to your instructions, I've planned for SPECTRE to steal from the Russians their new Lektor decoding machine. 

For this we need the services of a female member of the Russian Cryptograph section in Turkey 
and the help of the British Secret Service. 

Naturally, neither the Russians nor the British will be aware that they are now working for us

Number Three, is your section ready to carry out Kronsteen's directives? 

Yes, Number One. 
The operation will be organised according to Kronsteen's plan. 
I've selected a suitable girl from the Russian Consulate in Istanbul. 
She's capable, cooperative, and her loyalty to The State is beyond question. 

And you're absolutely sure she believes you're still Head of Operations for Soviet Intelligence? 


It is unlikely she would know I'm now working for SPECTRE. 
Moscow has kept my defection secret from everyone but a few members of the Praesidium. 

For your sake, I hope so. 
Kronsteen, you are sure this plan is foolproof? 

Number 5 :
Yes, it is, because I have anticipated every possible variation of countermove. 

Number 1 :
What makes you think that M, The Head of British Intelligence, will oblige you by falling in with your plan? 

Number 5 :
For the simple reason that this is so obviously A Trap. 
My reading of The British Mentality is that they always treat a trap as a challenge. 
In any case, they couldn't possibly pass up even the slightest chance of getting their hands on the Lektor decoder. They've wanted one for years. 

Number 1 :
All that could be True. 
What else? 

Number 5 :
As an added refinement, I think that SPECTRE would probably have the chance of personal revenge for the killing of our operative Dr No, 
because the man the British will almost certainly use on a mission of this sort would be their agent James Bond. 

Number 1 :
Let his death be a particularly unpleasant and humiliating one. Good. 

Number 5 :
I shall put my plan into operation straight away. 


And there will be no failure. Hurry. 


Welcome to SPECTRE Island. Great honour. I hope you had a pleasant flight. My time is limited. Is the man I requested ready? His dossier. Good. "Donald Grant, convicted murderer, "escaped Dartmoor Prison in 1960, "recruited in Tangier, 1962." Excellent. Where is he now? At the lake. Bring him to my office, will you? Take me to the lake. Through the training area. This Grant's one of the best men we've ever had. Homicidal paranoiac. Superb material. Though his methods were a little crude, his response to our training and indoctrination have been remarkable. I hope our work here meets with your approval. Training is useful, but there is no substitute for experience. I agree. We use live targets as well. Call him. Grant. He seems fit enough. Have him report to me in Istanbul in 24 hours. 

Corporal of State Security Tatiana Romanova. 

Come in. 
You know who I am? 

Colonel Klebb, Head of Operations for SMERSH. 
I saw you once in Moscow when I worked for the English Decoding Room. 

Did you tell anyone at the Consulate you were coming? 

No. The message said... 


Yes, yes, I know. I sent it. 
Your work record is excellent. 
The State is proud of you. 

Thank you, Comrade Colonel. Take off your jacket. 
Turn around. 
You're a fine-looking girl. 
Sit down. 
I see you trained for the ballet. 


But I grew an inch over the regulation height and so... 

Then you have had three lovers. 


What is the purpose of such an intimate question? 


You're not here to ask questions. 
You forget to whom you're speaking? 


I was in love. 

And if you were not in love? 


I suppose that would depend on the man. 


Sensible answer. 


This man, for instance? 

I cannot tell. Perhaps if he was kind and good toward me. 

Corporal, I have selected you for a most important assignment. 
Its purpose is to give false information to The Enemy. 
If you complete it successfully, you will be promoted. 
From now on you will do anything he says. 

And if I refuse? 

Then you will not leave this room alive. 


I will obey your orders. 

Good. Now these are your instructions. 


You report to me here. 

Yes. 

But the Consulate security man must not know that I'm in Istanbul. 

This is classified far above his level. 


I will say nothing to anyone. 


If you do you will be shot
Come. Come, my dear. 
You're very fortunate to have been chosen for such a simple, delightful duty. 
A real labour of love, as we say. 



Great sport, this. 

What did you say? 

I said, great sport, this punting. 


I couldn't agree with him more. 
I may even give up golf for it. 


Really? 

Not quite. 


Souvenir from another jealous woman? 


Yes, but I haven't turned my back on one since. 
•The Carphone in his 1932 Bentley is ringing•
Excuse me. 


What? 

Give me my shirt, will you? 

What's going on? 

I have to make a phone call. 


But we haven't eaten yet. 
I'm starving. 

Come in, UNIVEX. 
James Bond here. Over. 


He's been asking for you all morning. 
Where in the world are you, James? 
I've just been reviewing an old case.


So I'm an old case now, am I? 


Shh. It's The Office. 
Tell him I'm on my way, will you. 

He is not on his way. 


Sylvia, behave. 
We'll do this again some other time soon.

Do what? 
Last time you said that, you went off to Jamaica. 
I haven't seen you for six months. 

I'll be there in an hour. 


I'll tell him. 
Your old case sounds interesting, James. 

Make that an hour and a half. 
Now, about that lunch. 

For my next miracle, I... 

It'll be a miracle if he can explain where he's been all day. 

But I've never even heard of a Tatiana Romanova. 

Ridiculous, isn't it? 

It's absolutely crazy. 

Of course, girls do fall in love with pictures of film stars. 

But not a Russian cipher clerk with a file photo of a British agent. Unless she's mental. 
No, it's some sort of trap

Well, obviously it's a trap and the bait is a cipher machine, a brand new Lektor. 

A Lektor, no less. 
The CIA's been after one of those for years. 

Yes, so have we. 
When she contacted Kerim Bey, Head of Station T, Turkey, and told him she wanted to defect, she said she'd turn it over to us on one condition :— 
That you went out to Istanbul 
and brought her and the machine back to England. 
Here's a snapshot Kerim managed to get of her. 

I don't know too much about cryptography, but a Lektor could decode their top-secret signals. 
The whole thing's so fantastic, it just could be True. 

That had occurred to me. 
Besides, the Russians haven't been up to any tricks recently. 

Really, I'm not too busy at the moment, sir. 

You're booked on the 8:30 plane in the morning. 
If there's any chance of us getting a Lektor, we simply must look into it. 

Suppose when she meets me in the flesh, I don't come up to her expectations? 

M :
Just see that you do.