Sunday, December 30, 2018

Jesus' Earthly Father

We read so much about Mary and Jesus, and the art world has glorified her role in so many ways, that in these few days before Christmas, I thought I would post some paintings and sculptures of Joseph with Jesus.

(Previously posted at Camera Lucida, December 18 2007)


Left: St. Joseph. By Rudolph Blattler, Switzerland, 1899
Right: St. Joseph with the Christ Child.
By Giovanni Francesco Barbieri (Il Guercino), Italy, 1600s



Left: St. Joseph and Child. By Enrico Reffo, Italy, 1800s
Right: Saint Joseph and Jesus. By Enrico Manfrini, Italy, 2000



Left: Saint Joseph and Jesus. By Bartolome Esteban Murillo, Spain, 1600s
Right: Holding Heaven. By Ron DiCianni, USA, 2004



Left: Saint Joseph and Jesus. By Giovanni Battista Gaulli (Baciccia), Italy
Right: Saint Joseph and Jesus. By Brother Simeon, USA, 1900s


There is much more at: Oblates of St. Joseph

Saturday, December 29, 2018

From Nothing to Hip-hop



"And those who were seen dancing were thought to be insane by those who could not hear the music" Friedrich Nietzsche

Below is a recent encounter I recently had with a young boy at the Square One Mall Food Court in Mississauga. And below that, I re-post another encounter I had with a young man at the nearby Jubilee Garden, near the mall, about two years ago.


I inadvertently sat next to a young white boy (about ten or eleven years old) in the busy Square One Food Court (where I hardly ever sit down and just pass through for a short cut or to quickly get french fries or some such snack).

This time I sat down with a Starbucks coffee.

When I first found a seat in the food court, there was a man eating some kind of greasy hamburger type meal with a heavy smell right diagonal to me.

I got up and moved across to the other side. While doing so, I didn't see that a young boy was sitting across (diagonal again!) just finishing off some meal. He was so quiet and silent.

After I added the sugar to my coffee, I looked up and around, and saw him there watching me. I smiled at him and continued drinking my coffee, in a hurry to be off.

Then it was my turn to watch him.

"Are you here by yourself?" I gently asked this boy, who bravely sat amidst this sea of black, brown and yellow faces, looking like an angelic apparition, like a visitor from another world. He had slightly wavy gold blond hair.

"Well my Mom was supposed to meet me here. But she's not here," he replied with a slight tone of irritation to his voice, barely audible. He didn't want to sound like he was complaining.

It was a Saturday afternoon so I intuited that he must be doing some kind of "extracurricular activity," and probably a sport.

"Are you getting ready for a match or something?"

"No. But I'm in a competition later on this afternoon."

"What kind?"

"Hip-hop."

I was a little taken aback. I didn't expect that.

But why not? The boy looked like a younger, much blonder, Justin Bieber, the star who's won all the accolades with his reinvention of the black dance style.

"So are you going to win?" I teased him.

"Of course!" he replied putting on his fighting front. He wasn't gong to let me get away with it.

By then, I was ready to leave.

I put a thumbs up and smiled "Good Luck."

"Thank you," he replies, once again alone, and waiting for his mother.

I intuitively refrained from telling him "what to do."

Like, for example: "Join a ballet class." Or "Find a modern dance program."

But let him find out for himself, the hard way. That way it will have true meaning for him, when he realizes the artistic limitations of hip hop.



Reclaiming Beauty
Sunday, October 16, 2016
Nothing

I was by the lovey Jubilee Garden in Mississauga when I saw a young man moving gracefully. At first it looked like he was doing some kind of stretching exercise, but he was moving to some inner rhythm. He was not a dancer (I didn't think so) but he was graceful.

"Are you an artist?"

"No."

"What do you do?"

"Nothing."

"Oh. What did you study?" I've met before another young man who told me he had recently been a student at the nearby Sheridan College and was going on with more school since he couldn't find work.

"Philosophy," said this young man.

"You're a philosopher!" I concluded, pointing my finger at him telling him off for his lazy withdrawal.

How many times did this young, white man hear that he was "nothing?" In this world where the brown-skinned man rules, where Chinese and Indian philosophers are venerated, where multiculturalism runs the world, the heir to the white western civilization is deemed "nothing."

Does this young man realize that it is this "nothing" civilization that his "nothing" ancestors built which draws all these people here, reaping all the benefits but giving him nothing in return, other than to call him "nothing?"

Friday, December 28, 2018

God's Wrath is Palpable

If we are to save our civilization we have to put a higher standard to the words we use.

Words are the outward manifestation of our thoughts (and feelings) and sometimes (and more often than not) display our own particular truths, how we see the world.

Wars have started because of words. Unions have been broken because of words, and sometimes even just one word. And as my google spell check tells me, unions have been "born" (a clumsy effort at correcting my misspelt bron "broken") because of words .

At a recent entry at the Orthosphere, Kristor writes: Be Not Afraid.

And proceeds with a long article on how God is there for us.

But somewhere in the middle he slips:
If God exists, the battle is won already.
If

If God exists.

God's wrath is palpable in this time of those who deign to doubt.

He that is not with me is against me
Matthew 12:30

"One little abstract sliver of the transcendent"


Cloisters, New York
[Photo By: KPA]


In my most recent post, Paris Would Show Me Her Beauty, I quote Theodore Dalrymple as well as post a full article by him, surprised that someone should understand how my 9-year-old self felt about the looping peripheral roads that surround Paris.

I was trying to illustrate my impressions (and feelings) as we arrived in Paris and traveled through the strands of autoroutes to get to our apartment in the center of Paris.

I had googled 'peripherique' and got to Dalrymple's article somehow. I used to read his on City Journal, but soon tired of his prison stories. I haven't read any of his articles for years now.

Well if I am to post a full article by him on my blog, I should really know more about him, and one way to do so would be to buy one of his (many) books.

And why not his most recent, which is a co-authorship with Kenneth Francis titled: The Terror of Existence: From Ecclesiastes to Theatre of the Absurd, and just came out on December 10, 2018?

There is not really much about the authors other than their literary achievements on these book-selling sites, so I went to good old reliable Wikipedia to find out more.

There is a lot there, but here's what caught my attention:
[Dalrymple] is an atheist, but has criticised anti-theism and says that "to regret religion [...] is to regret our civilisation and its monuments, its achievements, and its legacy". Raised in a non-religious Jewish home, he began doubting the existence of a God at age nine. He became an atheist in response to a moment in a school assembly.
Here he writes (at City Journal once again) about that incident:
I first doubted God’s existence at about the age of nine. It was at the school assembly that I lost my faith. We had been given to understand that if we opened our eyes during prayers God would depart the assembly hall. I wanted to test this hypothesis. Surely, if I opened my eyes suddenly, I would glimpse the fleeing God? What I saw instead, it turned out, was the headmaster, Mr. Clinton, intoning the prayer with one eye closed and the other open, with which he beadily surveyed the children below for transgressions. I quickly concluded that Mr. Clinton did not believe what he said about the need to keep our eyes shut. And if he did not believe that, why should I believe in his God? In such illogical leaps do our beliefs often originate, to be disciplined later in life (if we receive enough education) by elaborate rationalization.
That moment in school assembly - AT AGE NINE! - is when he peeked from a closed-eye school prayer session and saw the Headmaster also peeking!

What intelligent nine-year-old doesn't clumsily confront God because of another clumsy transgression by an adult?

By age 30 this should be simply a "childish transgression" caused by irresponsible (and even perhaps non-believing) adults, and the belief, or non-belief, in God is based on more lofty matters.

But Dalrymple writes this article in 2007 at age fifty-nine! What fifty-nine-old, at the brink of his final meeting with God, makes his nine-year-old experience a pivotal moment in his life regarding his assessment on the presence (or absence) of God? What fifty-nine-old self-acclaimed philosopher does so? The intuition of little children, I suppose, reverse quoting Jesus' "Suffer the Little Children" to the level of blasphemy, and Dalrymple has blasphemed countless of times in his City Journal article.

But being an expert in philosophy, he knows that his non-belief cannot remove God, so wouldn't that make it a reason, the reason, to BELIEVE in God? What Dalrymple does is to leave a small crack for this momentous Being to somehow prove to him that He exists and thus to be worthy of belief. The arrogance of the atheist!

Since my posts are about beauty and art, I was interested in Dalrymple views on beauty and art. But he writes as though beauty appeared out of nowhere, as does his whole premise about life: it came out of nothing.

The arrogance of the atheist!

But it is more than arrogance now. We can ignore arrogance, or cram it into some ivory tower of an Ivy League. But many, ordinary, people read City Journal. And the language is not overly intellectual that many young people (smart school students, for example) can read it too. And there isn't time to go through texts of philosophical discourse, which the likes of Dalrymple spend decades deciphering, so what Dalrymple gives us is it.

Unless, that is, we start printing our own journals, far away from these postmodern centres of thought (and residence) to refute every single word that writers like Dalrymple conjure up, and make his sound like the seasoned wordwizard he is.

After I wrote (re-wrote) this post on Dalrymple, I googled his name further and found that Lawrence Auster of The View from the Right couldn't let pass Dalrymple's nihilistic (I would say Godless) view of our universe, and in one short phrase (amidst several comments by VFR readers related to atheists in general) he writes:
First the transcendent is denied, leaving only one little abstract sliver of the transcendent in place...[Note: the link is to a speech Larry made: The Political Religion of Modernity]
Which is what I say. A sliver of a comment adds to other slivers of comments, and then a whole anti-God thesis is drafted, by people we trust to be our allies.

Which is why we should we start printing our own journals, far away from these postmodern centres of thought (and residence).

And a website is a start.

God is watching.

Wednesday, December 26, 2018

The Twelve Day of Christmas



On the first day of Christmas
my true love sent to me
A Partridge in a Pear Tree
On the second day of Christmas
my true love sent to me
Two Turtle Doves
and a Partridge in a Pear Tree

On the third day of Christmas
my true love sent to me
Three French Hens
Two Turtle Doves
and a Partridge in a Pear Tree

On the fourth day of Christmas
my true love sent to me
Four Calling Birds
Three French Hens
Two Turtle Doves
and a Partridge in a Pear Tree

On the fifth day of Christmas
my true love sent to me
Five Golden Rings
Four Calling Birds
Three French Hens
Two Turtle Doves
and a Partridge in a Pear Tree

On the sixth day of Christmas
my true love sent to me
Six Geese a Laying
Five Golden Rings
Four Calling Birds
Three French Hens
Two Turtle Doves
and a Partridge in a Pear Tree

On the seventh day of Christmas
my true love sent to me
Seven Swans a Swimming
Six Geese a Laying
Five Golden Rings
Four Calling Birds
Three French Hens
Two Turtle Doves
and a Partridge in a Pear Tree

On the eighth day of Christmas
my true love sent to me
Eight Maids a Milking
Seven Swans a Swimming
Six Geese a Laying
Five Golden Rings
Four Calling Birds
Three French Hens
Two Turtle Doves
and a Partridge in a Pear Tree

On the ninth day of Christmas
my true love sent to me
Nine Ladies Dancing
Eight Maids a Milking
Seven Swans a Swimming
Six Geese a Laying
Five Golden Rings
Four Calling Birds
Three French Hens
Two Turtle Doves
and a Partridge in a Pear Tree

On the tenth day of Christmas
my true love sent to me
Ten Lords a Leaping
Nine Ladies Dancing
Eight Maids a Milking
Seven Swans a Swimming
Six Geese a Laying
Five Golden Rings
Four Calling Birds
Three French Hens
Two Turtle Doves
and a Partridge in a Pear Tree

On the eleventh day of Christmas
my true love sent to me
Eleven Pipers Piping
Ten Lords a Leaping
Nine Ladies Dancing
Eight Maids a Milking
Seven Swans a Swimming
Six Geese a Laying
Five Golden Rings
Four Calling Birds
Three French Hens
Two Turtle Doves
and a Partridge in a Pear Tree

On the twelfth day of Christmas
my true love sent to me
12 Drummers Drumming
Eleven Pipers Piping
Ten Lords a Leaping
Nine Ladies Dancing
Eight Maids a Milking
Seven Swans a Swimming
Six Geese a Laying
Five Golden Rings
Four Calling Birds
Three French Hens
Two Turtle Doves
and a Partridge in a Pear Tree

For The Young Blonde Boy at the Square One Giant Multi-Culti Food Court

Here where he should be

https://reclaimingbeautymain.blogspot.com/2018/12/it-came-upon-midnight-clear_25.html

Tuesday, December 25, 2018

A Merry Christmas


The Adoration of the Magi
c. 1440/1460
tempera on poplar panel
overall (diameter): 137.3 cm (54 1/16 in.)
framed: 188 x 171.5 x 12.7 cm (74 x 67 1/2 x 5 in.)

Fra Angelico and Fra Filippo Lippi
Fra Angelico
Florentine, c. 1395 - 1455
Fra Filippo Lippi
Florentine, c. 1406 - 1469

Samuel H. Kress Collection
National Gallery of Art , Washington D.C.

It Came Upon a Midnight Clear


The Choir of King's College, Cambridge, 2006

I am writing this post just after midnight. And the message now is clear, and clearer at midnight as messages often are.

It Came Upon a Midnight Clear


The Choir of King's College, Cambridge, 2006

I am writing this post just after midnight. And the message now is clear, and clearer at midnight as messages often are.

Monday, December 24, 2018

Merry!


"Holiday" Event at Square One: Merry and Bright Holiday Market
[Photo By: KPA]


The Square One Mall retailers refuse to use the word Christmas in the way that it was intentioned.

They've now come up with a "pop up" "market" which consists of various stalls, which they've called a "Holiday Market," which is "Merry and Bright." Yay!

I've been inside, twice, to see if maybe I was missing something.

The last time I was there, I went to some stall (I forget which) and saw a "South Asian" woman, clearly a lesbian, with cropped hair and tattoos all the way down her arms and on her bare breasts (bare upper breasts, but who knows what's going on in the non-visible parts of the rest of her body). I saw all this as she started to talk to me, and I just walked away.

The sponsors of the "market" are listed on the photo above at their site, but the most curious is KIND®, which purports to sell "healthy snacks." But KIND® is still a prepackaged and processed food, and there are no numerical values for the "30% less sugar" (30% less sugar compared to what?) and "low sodium" (see sugar example) on their website.

And KIND® has a "KINDness Tree" in that merry pop-up market where you can "hang a wish" if you so desire. We can do it (be kind and gift-giving, that is) without Jesus and Mary and Joseph and that godforsaken donkey, those nuisance characters in that myth who tend to taken over OUR Holidays. All we need is to OWN it all: The Christmas Tree® and The Christmas Feeling™, and we can enjoy a time of kindness and gift-giving for ALL.

"Be kind" is the motto of our age, and God help you if you're not!

MERRY!

Saturday, December 22, 2018

Hockey Champions and Champions of Humor at Celebration Square


Darcy and Me

Mississauga Celebration Square hosted a "Hometown Hockey" this (Saturday) afternoon. Since I normally walk through the mall, past the vast Civic Centre building, to get to and from my apartment, I followed my usual itinerary and was pleasantly surprised when I returned in time for lunch. There was a hockey legend waiting to sign autographs.

I don't watch sports. Occasionally I will watch gymnastics, figure skating and diving competitions. But that's about it. Oh yes, and tennis.

But I appreciate what hockey players do, swiveling around the ice at top speed, following a flat hard plastic (that puck) to score into a miniature goal guarded by a giant padded bear.

It is a high velocity game which requires a high degree of skill, and Darcy appears to be one of the game's champions.

I had read about the event but forgot about it.

I got an autograph and a photo. I look a little coy in the above photo, with the generous Darcy posing amiably. But I was looking down at the autograph as the camera clicked.

But the quintessential Canadian game also needs the quintessential Canadian entertainment: comedy. A very funny Hockey Circus Show starring "Paz" was going on at the same time. Paz aims to throw around burning hockey sticks etc. at his circus, show but he never stopped throwing out his jokes at us.

"Why doesn't he get on with it?" says a frustrated elderly lady. But I was happy to laugh at his verbal acrobats, and left before the hockey sticks started flying around.

Support Reclaiming Beauty


Cloisters, New York City
Photo By: Kidist Paulos Asrat



Please contact me through the contact sheet on the side bar for more information.

At Reclaiming Beauty, I took on the tough challenge of focusing on beauty, which I describe here in my Franciscan University's Power of Beauty conference presentation in 2014:
Reclaiming Beauty: Winning Back Our Western Civilization

Reclaiming Beauty aims to document the contribution that beauty has made toward our Western civilization, from the earliest records of God’s love of beauty, to a young child who sees beauty almost as soon as he is born. Our civilization thrived, prospered and matured through beauty. Our great artists, architects, writers, philosophers and scientists have always referred to beauty with awe and wonder. It is in the modern era that beauty began to be undermined and eventually neglected by intellectual leaders.

Reclaiming Beauty will show that abandoning beauty leads to the death of culture, and eventually that of society. Modern man’s neglect of beauty has initiated the cult of ugliness, leaving us with bleakness and nihilism.

Yet, people want beauty. And they will surround themselves with some kind of aesthetic quality. The man on the street may be able to recognize beauty, but he would not be able to explain why it is beautiful. He may desire beauty, but does not know how to attain it. And he is easily distracted by destroyers of beauty. It is the the task of experts to guide him in the right direction.

With Reclaiming Beauty, I will make a historical, cultural and societal review of beauty. I will trace the steps when beauty was eventually abandoned as a paradigm for civilization.

Rather than attributing beauty to a Godly goodness, philosophers, writers and artists began to view beauty as their nemesis. They saw God as a judge who would not let them do as they wished. In order to pursue the image of beauty they desired, they began to look elsewhere. They began to abandon God, and by abandoning God, they began to change their world, filling it with horror and ugliness.

The purpose of Reclaiming Beauty is to develop ideas and strategies for bringing beauty back into our culture, and to eventually reclaim beauty.

Happy Holly Days From the Art Gallery of Mississauga



The clever folk at the Art Gallery of Mississauga, adept at garnering 3/4 of a billion dollars in government grant money (and countless thousands in private "donations"), have put up their "happy holidays" message and closed shop for "the holidays."

That is for TWO weeks!

No Holiday Shows. No Holiday Specials. No Holiday Eggnog Courtesy of the Museum.

They need to to save all that money for exhibitions which no-one visits, and which the Canadian government funds in the millions, not to repeat myself.

They have found an artist which best exemplifies their godless and anti-christian sentiment, as they sign off, to glean all the "joy and celebration" of OUR Christian Christmas season.

William Ronald's painting is in the gallery's permanent collection and acquisitions, amongst many others. And it is clearly a "choice" the AGM made to represent its Christmas wishes, aka Holiday Greetings, through his abstract expressionist painting.

A Happy Abstract Christmas Holidays to Everyone!

William Ronald's abstract bio is here:
William Ronald was the founder of Painters Eleven, the pioneer movement of Modernism in Canada. Their first exhibition, in 1954, was also the first major commercial display of abstract art in Toronto. As well, Ronald is known for his series of non-representational portraits of Canadian Prime Ministers (1977-84).

William Ronald graduated from the Ontario College of Art in Toronto in 1951 and began working as a display artist for the Robert Simpson Company department store. In 1952, he visited New York City where he studied with the American Abstract Expressionist painter, Hans Hofmann. Back in Canada, he persuaded Simpson’s to pair abstract paintings with furniture displays for a show titled Abstracts at Home, a creative way to get the public to accept non-representational art. Painters Eleven came together as a result of this show. Ronald exhibited with the group in Toronto (1953-55) and in New York (1956) (The River, 1956). [Source: National Gallery of Canada]
Imagine that: "Abstract Furniture!" Flows nicely into Abstract Christmas.

Rolan's signature painting, serving as a Christmas Card for the AGM, is aptly titled: "Untitled," from an exhibition in 1990.

The clever artist (and the Clever AGM Professionals) used the scattered, abstracted, red, and the green swoops of paint, to signify abstracted "Holly" and "Ivy," for the AGM's X-Mas card, to wish us all an Abstract Holly (and Ivy) X-Mas.

The Saints Worked Alone: Support Reclaiming Beauty



Each saint is recognized for his particular characteristics. But all saints were warriors, fighters, for God, and in the name of God. They didn't seek political positions or layman popularity.

But that never diminished their convictions, their mission.

We have their confessions and examples to follow:

Support Reclaiming Beauty

Friday, December 21, 2018

First Day of Winter: 5:23pm (Southern Ontario)


Jubilee Gardenm Mississauga
December 21, 2018
[Photo By: KPA]



Dogetiquette: What WOULD Fido say!

Post (below) from Camera Lucida: Just Me and You and Fido, March 29, 2012

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------


Just Me and You and Fido

It is for a good reason that I chose Fido as my cell phone plan. Actually, at the time I got it, there were very few cell phone services available in Canada, and this was touted as the best of the few. The many American services were unavailable in Canada at the time, for fear of them out-bidding the Canadian ones (so much for fair trade/free trade). Now that the market is inundated with them, Fido services are better, and more cheaper. I had thought to change plans to something even more cheaper and more better, but I'm glad I stayed loyal to my Fido.

The above photo is from Fido's online ad. These true Canadian canines are enjoying a toboggan ride, as only (Canadian) dogs can, all happily crammed on one long piece of wood.

On a serious note, cell phones have also brought out the worst in people. Every day, I hear one-sided, often very personal, conversations around me. And people hike up their voices when on cell phones. I think it is an ego thing: "Look at me! I'm having a conversation!" I also think that people get lost in their cocoon of them and the person on the other side, and the rest of the world doesn't exist. It is, of course, the continuing crassness of our world, and the gradual loss of civility. "No-one else matters but me!" say these modern narcissists. Sometimes I slow down to listen into these (boring) conversations. Some catch on and actually lower their voices. Others are just relentlessly oblivious.

Thursday, December 20, 2018

X-Mas in Mississauga

There are many kinds of trees. Even the fir trees are up (although I'm not sure if they're real). The dominant style is the leafless winter tree, with sparkles.

Celebration Square glows in an ominous lavender/purple light at night. And the diminutive tree in the center has ice-white lights, on even during the day, advertising its commercial purpose clearly, with the plastic fence around it paying allegiance to: Amacon which is
recognized as one of Canada’s most influential real estate development and construction firms.
Of course! They must be part of highly active condo construction that is going on in the Square One area.

The tree looks wintery enough, but is hardly the multi-colored tree which gives the holiday its festive air. And there is no star (or angel) to top it off.

Christmas is just another holiday on the roster. There is delicious traditional food and drink (how about eggnog at Starbucks), and lovely songs (Jingle Bells, anyone?), and the Mall's shops have their generous pre-Christmas sales going on.

But Jesus and Mary and Joseph are nowhere to be seen. Even the donkey couldn't find a part in this multi-culti-fun-for-all-X-Mas-Season.

Below are some photos I took. But I soon tired of the themes. I couldn't find bright lights or golden globes anywhere. And the trees that trees with that decor were set-up for Santa (see below) to have a $40 family photo shoot, and got an album with beautifully scripted "Happy Holidays!"

But the carols are eternal, and eternally beautiful. I pass the time walking by all this by singing along (sometimes a little too loudly) along with the pre-recorded carols that discreetly play through the speakers.

"Noel, Noel, Noel, Noel
Born is the King of Israel."

And my years in choirs have taught me the descant that is sang with the last chorus.















"And so this is Christmas"
John Lennon


----------------------
Photos By: KPA

About Reclaiming Beauty


Cloisters, New York City
Photo By: Kidist Paulos Asrat

Book Project:
Reclaiming Beauty: Winning Back Our Western Civilization
Reclaiming Beauty aims to document the contribution that beauty has made toward our Western civilization, from the earliest records of God’s love of beauty, to a young child who sees beauty almost as soon as he is born. Our civilization thrived, prospered and matured through beauty. Our great artists, architects, writers, philosophers and scientists have always referred to beauty with awe and wonder. It is in the modern era that beauty began to be undermined and eventually neglected by intellectual leaders. 
Reclaiming Beauty will show that abandoning beauty leads to the death of culture, and eventually that of society. Modern man’s neglect of beauty has initiated the cult of ugliness, leaving us with bleakness and nihilism.
Yet, people want beauty. And they will surround themselves with some kind of aesthetic quality. The man on the street may be able to recognize beauty, but he would not be able to explain why it is beautiful. He may desire beauty, but does not know how to attain it. And he is easily distracted by destroyers of beauty. It is the the task of experts to guide him in the right direction.
With Reclaiming Beauty, I will make a historical, cultural and societal review of Western beauty. I will trace the steps when beauty was eventually abandoned as a paradigm for civilization. 
Rather than attributing beauty to a Godly goodness, philosophers, writers and artists began to view beauty as their nemesis. They saw God as a judge who would not let them do as they wished. In order to pursue the image of beauty they desired, they began to look elsewhere. They began to abandon God, and by abandoning God, they began to change their world, filling it with horror and ugliness. 
The purpose of Reclaiming Beauty is to develop ideas and strategies for bringing beauty back into our Western culture, and to eventually reclaim beauty.

Mississauga Gulag: Start With the Arts


shift CTRL

CURATED BY ANU RADHA VERMA
SEPTEMBER 6 – DECEMBER 21, 2018
Gallery spaces are often conceived of as separate(d) from communities, requiring community members to cross a threshold to enter, engage and be included. shift CTRL is a search for the liminal space, not simply inviting people in, but recognizing the ways in which the institution is always a part of community. Over three months, the XIT-RM is transformed into a multi-use space for shift CTRL with three distinct components that ask questions, celebrate community and challenge barriers.
responding to the city we are in: engagement hub on art, politics and belonging
September 6 – September 30

community collaborations: short-run exhibitions with local groups committed to social change
October 1 – October 31

shift CTRL B(l)ackspace: Kadeem Dunn’s playable showcase examines the past/present of Blacks in gaming
November 1 – December 21


From: Mandy Salter
Date: Wed, May 9, 2018 at 12:00 PM
Subject: Kidist Asrat - no longer permitted entry to the AGM premises or events
To: Kidist Paulos Asrat
Cc: Ryerson Maybee , Susan Legge , Sadaf Zuberi

Hello Ms. Asrat,

I had emailed you some months back expressing the AGM’s concern with the nature of your reviews and commentary for the AGM’s programmes, staff, artists and community. I had clearly articulated at the time that if the hateful and insulting tone of many of your blog posts, in regards to AGM content, staff and or community did not cease, you would be no longer welcome at the AGM. While you certainly have the right to freedom of speech, the AGM also has the right to not be defamed and or the recipient of hate propaganda.

As you have continued to criticize, defame and generally create an unsafe space for many at the AGM, you will no longer be permitted to enter the AGM premises under the Trespass to Property Act, RSO 1990, c. T.21 - Ontario.ca

If you are to enter the AGM premises at any time in the future, you will be escorted off the property immediately by City Security.

Mandy Salter
--Mandy Salter MA ISA
---Director/Curator
Dear Friends of Western Civilization,

I aim to publish a book on Mississauga, a suburb of Toronto, to demonstrate how far the city has come from the original vision of Bruce McLaughlin in 1968, whose aim was to establish a city independent from Toronto from an already existing back-water small town. He built Mississauga from the ground up, literally.

I have also two other books which are almost completed. One a memoir-type book which recounts my journey through countries and ideas, which I have titled "Apprenticeship in Beauty," starting from the most important moment of my life when my family and I had to move to Paris because of an encroaching revolution in my birth country Ethiopia, when I was only nine years old. I celebrated my tenth birthday a month after we arrived in Paris. Another book is long-term project on an academic investigation of beauty and Western Civilization: Reclaiming Beauty: Saving Our Western Civilization. I have a publisher interested in this book but I need to provide a completed manuscript, which is about 75% there.

Through UNESCO funds, the Paris-based international organization where my father was stationed after leaving Ethiopia, and various school scholarships, I was able to attend primary and secondary boarding schools in England: in the beautiful Kent countryside, and in Dover, city of the White Cliffs. My Western loyalties were formed through these formative years.

Now, after several years in Toronto, I reside in Mississauga, where I have been diligently keeping track in my blog Reclaiming Beauty of the state of affairs in the Western World from my Mississauga outpost, documenting news, events, and my impressions for about five years .

It was never my intention to move to Canada. I always presumed I would be an American, having completed college and graduate studies in the US east coast. But life's circumstances placed me here, now a Canadian.

My move to Mississauga was a blessing in disguise. I realized that I had inadvertently stumbled upon a gold mine. It brought into sharp focus all the themes and ideas l had been studying and writing about for about twelve years now, starting my blog Camera Lucida in 2005, and my blog Reclaiming Beauty in 2011. Over the years, I wrote for articles in various magazines includIng American Thinker and Frontpage Magazine, converging politics, culture and the contemporary world. In 2014 I was invited to presented a paper at The Power of Beauty conference at the Franciscan University, in Steubenville Ohio.. My paper was titled: Reclaiming Beauty: Saving Our Western Civilization.

The pseudo-suburban city of Mississauga has a downtown which consists of a giant mall and a city square with the City Centre buildings that include a library and City Hall/Civic Centre which was inaugurated with the visit of the Duke and Duchess of York in Mississauga in July 1987, who were also present at the opening of the Art Gallery of Mississauga that same year. A a hidden, "Jubilee" Garden named to commemorate Queen Elizabeth's 50-year reign in 2002, became part of the "square" that same year.

Is that what constitutes a City Centre?

Nonetheless the library is a world class learning and research centre, run by accomplished librarians, the AGM obtains millions of dollars in grant money, and the Jubilee Garden is maintained by dedicated and knowledgeable gardeners who keep the garden alive all year round - Winter, Summer, Spring and Fall. Rain, shine or snowstorm.

Mississauga's history was an ambitious vision by Bruce McLaughlin, a white Canadian, starting around 1968. Immigration and non-Canadian residents were far from his mind. There was something exciting and fresh about Mississauga when it started out as a city built from the ground up - literally.

About a year ago, I asked one too many controversial question at an AGM gallery event about the lack of Western art on display at the gallery, and subsequently, I received an email from the galley's (still current) director, Mandy Slater, a white woman, to cease my "antagonistic" behavior and not to frequent gallery any more, with my name submitted to the Peel Region Police and the Mississauga Security division, should I not comply. I believe I was targeted because she felt I could obstruct the her long term vision of transforming the gallery into a venue for "alternate" exhibitions by of non-white and multicultural artists. Indigenous and homosexual artists have also been added to her exhibition and programming agenda as "underrepresented" groups.

I haven't entered the gallery since then. But the AGM's prolific website provides me with all the information I require on the gallery's exhibitions and programming, and which allows me to follow and monitor their activities. As well, most of the staff post photographs and commentary on their various social media sites. Now most of the staff and curators are non-white. The gallery's recent exhibitions, over the past two years, have focused on immigrant and non-white artists, including homosexuals and "transgendered." The gallery aims to build a gallery that exhibits "alternate visions," alternate, that is from the, oppressive and discriminatory white and Western art view, according to its (now former) curator of contemporary exhibitions Kendra Wainsworth.

The contemporary reality of Mississauga is far from the independent city that McLaughlin envisioned. It is now more than 60% non-White, with a plethora of "nationalities," with Chinese and Indians dominating. Rather than an independent city, separate from big-city Toronto, Mississauga is held captive by multiculturalism. Indians, Chinese, Filipino, Arab Christians, and a conglomerate of Middle Eastern Muslims influence key political and socio-cultural decisions in favour of multiculturalism, and specifically their own cultures. Nowhere is this more visible than at Celebration Square in the Civic Centre's large esplanade. Every summer, each of these cultures presents a full weekend of activities ranging from food stalls to Movie Nights to "celebrate" their culture. A mood of nostalgia and "old country" dominates these festivals. The City of Mississauga is the major funder for these, mostly free, programs.

The reality of Mississauga , though, is far from this exuberant multiculturalism. Mississauga has some of the highest poverty rates in Ontario, most of them recorded in the city's non-white ethnic neighbourhoods, and a non-existent "mosaic" of mixed multiculturalism, with an increasingly self-segregating population separating itself by race, ethnicity and religion. And the various socio-ethnic groups do not work together, in art or other cultural and social programs, especially where their "identities" are involved, and some are even antagonistic towards each other (Indian Hindu and Muslims, for example).

I will present all this material in my book on how a once confident city, with confident citizens, now has devolved into this multicultural outpost, which is diligently restructuring society and culture, and serving as an example for other Canadian cities to follow.

Links:
Mississauga Demographics: 2016 Census
Duke an Duchess of York at the Art Gallery of Mississauga inaugural exhibition
Art Gallery of Mississauga (About - Wikipedia)
Art Gallery of Mississauga (About - Official site)
Mississauga City Hall
Mississauga City Centre
Bruce McLaughlin: The Father of the City of Mississauga
Michael Snow, Art Gallery Mississauga inaugural exhibition 1987
Michael Snow's Still life in 8 calls
When the Mississauga City Centre Was Built
Aerial Shots of Mississauga, early 1970s
1987 – The Civic Centre Officially Opens
Mississauga Civic Center Architects
Hazel McCallion: Mayor Hurricane Hazel: 1978-2014
"Mississauga" : Song by Tommy Hunter, Released 1974
Art Gallery of Mississauga: Kendra Ainsworth and Colonial Art
The Head Table
Camera Lucida: A place to explore and shed light on how art, society and culture converge
Reclaiming Beauty: Saving Our Western Civilization

Wednesday, December 19, 2018

Help Reclaiming Beauty


Jubilee Garden Mississauga Civic Centre
Photo By KPA
December 2018


Dear Friends of Western Civilization,

I aim to publish a book on Mississauga, to demonstrate how far the city has come from the original vision of Bruce McLaughlin , who aimed to establish a city independent from Toronto from an already existing back-water small town. He built Mississauga from the ground up, literally.

I also have two other books which are almost completed. One a memoir-type book which recounts my journey through countries and ideas, which I have titled "Apprenticeship in Beauty" starting from the most important moment of my life when my family and I had to move to Paris because of an encroaching revolution in my birth country Ethiopia, when I was only nine years old. I celebrated my sign post tenth year a month after we arrived in Paris. Another book is long-term project on an academic investigation of beauty and Western Civilization: Reclaiming Beauty: Saving Our Western Civilization. I have a publisher interested in this book but I need to provide a completed manuscript, which is about 75% there.

Through UNESCO funds, the Paris-based international organization where my father was stationed after leaving Ethiopia, and various school scholarships, I was able to attend primary and secondary boarding schools in England: in the beautiful Kent countryside, and in Dover, city of the White Cliffs. My Western loyalties were formed through these formative years.

Now, after several years in Toronto, I reside in the suburban city of Mississauga, Ontario, where I have been diligently keeping track of the state of affairs in the Western World from my Mississauga outpost, documenting news, events, and my impressions for about five years in my blog Reclaiming Beauty.

It was never my intention to move to Canada. I always presumed I would be an American, having completed college and graduate studies in the east coast. But life's circumstances placed me here, now a Canadian. I moved from Toronto to Mississauga about five years ago, and in many ways it was a blessing in disguise. I realize now that I have inadvertently stumbled upon a gold mine. It brought into sharp focus all the themes and ideas l had been studying and writing about for about twelve years now, starting my blog Camera Lucida in 2005, and starting my blog Reclaiming Beauty in 2011. In 2014, I presented a paper Reclaiming Beauty: Saving Our Western Civilization at a conference titled: The Power of Beauty at the Franciscan University, in Steubenville Ohio.

The pseudo-suburban city of Mississauga has a downtown which consists of a giant mall and a city square consisting of the City Centre buildings including a library, a City Hall/Civic Centre, and a hidden, "Jubilee" Garden. The garden was built to commemorate Queen Elizabeth's 50-year reign in 1987, and inaugurated wth the visit of the Duke and Duchess of York in Mississauga in July 1987, who were also present at the opening of the Art Gallery of Mississauga.

Is that what constitutes a City Centre?

Nonetheless the library is a world class learning and research centre, run by accomplished librarians, the AGM obtains millions of dollars in grant money, and the Jubilee Garden is maintained by dedicated and knowledgeable gardeners who keep the garden alive all year round - Winter, Summer, Spring and Fall. Rain, shine or snowstorm.

Mississauga's history originates as a "new city" built around the 1970s, as an ambitious vision by a white Canadian, Bruce McLaughlin, to separate this already existing small town from the influences of Toronto, and to build a self-sufficient and independent city. Immigration, and non-Canadian residents, were far from his, and his colleagues' minds. And the AGM itself was established in 1987, as a separate gallery, independent from big-city influences, or even the encroaching multiculturalism.

There was something exciting and fresh about Mississauga when it started out as a city built from the ground up - literally.

About a year ago, I asked one too many controversial question at an AGM gallery event about the lack of Western art on display at the gallery, and subsequently, I received an email from the gallery's (still current) director, Mandy Slater, a white woman, to cease my "antagonistic" behavior and not to frequent gallery any more, with my name submitted to the Peel Region Police and the Mississauga Security division, should I not comply. I believe I was targeted because she felt I could obstruct the her long term vision of transforming the gallery into a venue for "alternate" exhibitions by of non-white and multicultural artists. Indigenous and homosexual artists have also been added to her exhibition and programming agenda as "underrepresented" groups. I haven't entered the gallery since then. But the AGM's prolific website provides me with all the information I require on the gallery's exhibitions and programming to follow and monitor their activities. As well, most of the staff post photographs and commentary on their various social media sites.

And the contemporary realty of Mississauga is far from the independent city that McLaughlin envisioned. It is now more than 60% non-White, with a plethora of "nationalities" and Chinese and Indians dominating. Rather than an independent city, separate from big-city Toronto, Mississauga is held captive by multiculturalism. Indians, Chinese, Filipino, Arab Christians, and a conglomerate of Middle Eastern Muslims influence key political and socio-cultural decisions in favour of multiculturalism, and specifically their own cultures. Nowhere is this more visible than at Celebration Square in the Civic Centre's large esplanade. Every summer, each of these cultures presents a full weekend of activities ranging from food stalls to Movie Nights to "celebrate" their culture. A mood of nostalgia and "old country" dominates these festivals. The City of Mississauga is the major funder for these, mostly free, programs.

The reality of Mississauga , though, is far from this exuberant multiculturalism. Mississauga has some of the highest poverty rates in Ontario, most of them recorded in the city's non-white ethnic neighbourhoods, and a non-existent "mosaic" of mixed multiculturalism, with an increasingly self-segregating population separating itself by race, ethnicity and religion. And the various socio-ethnic groups do not work together, in art or other cultural and social programs, especially where their "identities" are involved, and some are even antagonistic towards each other (Indian Hindu and Muslims, for example).

I will present all this material in my book on how a once confident city, with confident citizens, now has devolved into this multicultural outpost, which is diligently restructuring society and culture, and serving as an example for other Canadian cities to follow.

Monday, December 17, 2018

Posting from Camera Lucida: 2012

Below is a 2012 posting from my Camera Lucida blog, which I've posted in full.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Friday, March 23, 2012
How Immigrants are Destroying Toronto (And Canada)



Minister Rona Ambrose (second from left)
surrounded by employees and volunteers from
Changing Together: Centre for Immigrant
Women Association in Edmonton, Alberta
September 2010


From the first two paragraphs of the article with the photo:
Edmonton− The Honourable Rona Ambrose, Minister of Public Works and Government Services and Minister for Status of Women, announced Government of Canada support for a new project that will help end violence against immigrant and refugee women and girls, and held a roundtable with stakeholders involved in the project.

"This is an important collaborative project between Changing Together and the Edmonton Women's Shelter that can truly make a difference in the lives of immigrant and refugee women, who are victims of domestic violence and human trafficking," said Minister Ambrose.
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The Thinking Housewife has an article on the Violence Against Women Act. She writes on violence between couples:
[M]ore than 200 studies have shown that women and men are equally guilty of verbal and physical aggression in the home. Domestic violence against women is extremely serious and women are injured and murdered by their spouses or intimates more often than men. But conflict is often initiated by women.
Many years ago, I worked for an immigrant agency. My role was a "counsellor" to assist new immigrants with integrating into Canadian life. After several years, I quit, cold turkey. Everyone was surprised. My "clients" as we called the people we gave service to, gave me good reviews. And I seemed to have had a modicum of success.

I quit because I felt that the kinds of immigrants I was seeing, mostly from Latin America (I speak reasonably good Spanish) and at that time many Somali and Ethiopian refugees, were not assimilating, and I didn't see them assimilating, into the Canadian society. Near the end of my post, I openly said that many of these immigrants/refugees should just return to their countries of origin.

During my years in the immigrant agency (early to late 1990s), new "women's issues" agencies started sprouting up to cull the government funds that were being allocated to women immigrants and refugees. Greedy and clever immigrant agencies discovered that there was money to be made on "violence against women" programs from these funds.

Now, a normal society would look at women as part of a unit of a family, either as a wife, a mother, a daughter, a grandmother, etc. But these agencies focused solely and only on women. And since their whole approach was divisive, they only ended up taking care of divisive issues.

What more divisive than "violence against women?"

I would say that most immigrant/refugee marital problems are related to the difficult financial and social problems these families experienced. And added to that, many of the men were not used to having their wives in such prominent roles, and sometimes more superior roles (from learning the language faster to getting jobs sooner, etc.). I would say that the women also behaved less traditionally subservient and possibly more antagonistically, with their new-found confidence (and attention). If violence ensues from these changes (I cannot say from my experience who initiates the violence most of the time), the women have a myriad of agencies and shelters to run to, while the men are left bewildered, angry and of course targeted as criminals.

I've had at a few men (often the situation is to embarrassing to talk about for men) recount their ordeals to me in detail, starting with a psychological blockage that doesn't allow them to continue a normal life, to missing their children. They were also profoundly ashamed that they were now known as wife batterers. I never went into the "violent" situations, but it was clear to me that the men lost the most.

I would start saying to my colleagues that such "violence" is becoming an epidemic. Many of these families wouldn't be experiencing such turbulent family lives back in their countries of origin, where there were a myriad of cultural and familial checkpoints to make sure this didn't happen.

First there was the family as a whole. In Ethiopian families (I cannot speak for other families, although I would think the situations are similar), older relatives, fathers and grandfathers (and uncles) played tremendously important roles in making sure that families were as harmonious as possible. Complaining wives did have a say. And a wife who was battered was the most protected of them all.

But of course, situations wouldn't reach the "battering" level. Through strict religious, Christian, mandates families were regularly reminded of the importance of roles and hierarchies. Only two generations ago (my grandparents' time), wives would call their husbands by the formal "vous" (I cannot think of a better word in English). A rebellious wife had many advisers (female relatives, sisters, mothers-in-law, and her own mother) to help her through whatever she was reacting against. And she may be right, so either she found a way to convince her husband of her correct, and beneficial, revolt, or other sources were found, from and elder male relative to approach the husband to the local priest, who could act as mediators and advisers. If divorce or separation becomes inevitable, again every social and cultural channel was used to prevent this. Separation was often used (with the wife "travelling" to visit relatives until tempers cooled off) to stall and put-off divorce .

In the end, although such societies look like they are full of coerced, unhappy marriages, they actually have unions which develop mutual trust, and even love.

I always said that those percentages of real violence against women were extremely small. The large numbers that are being touted everywhere I think are one of those liberal, anti-marriage, feminist propaganda, where everything and anything can become "battery" or "violence." The more one can show the inherent evil of men, the more the world can run according to women's agenda, including doing away all that claptrap on hierarchy and the outdated "king of his castle" role of men.

And women are more equal than men, in feminist language. This has torn society apart, made children fatherless (often living with the mother and with another male member who is not their father), made single women and their children poorer, and impoverished men, who often have to supply their income to two families if they remarry (alimony always comes from the man, in this equal world of ours), etc.

And it is especially brutal to immigrants, both men and women. There was a spike in immigrant men suicides in the 1990s (amongst Ethiopians to be exact, since I don't know enough about how other cultures responded to this problem). Many of these women receive welfare or some kind of government assistance, and stay it for long periods. Children grow up expecting government "benefits" which must affect what they aspire for as adults. Etc.

So, my opinion (although it counted for more than that at my counsellor job since it was based on my observations and research) was that we should find ways for these families to stay together. In terms of Ethiopian families, it was to restore some kind of traditional, Christian element, of male hierarchy within the family.

This, I think, is becoming more and more difficult in multicultural Canada, so I still say that Ethiopians should start a "return of the diaspora" movement (I said this once with a group of people, and someone told me that many, from young Ethiopians born in the West, to older retirees, are actually going back in large numbers).

Dependency on the liberal set up hasn't helped. And often, the supporters of radical liberal agendas, like those who speak for "abused" women and who support dramatic solutions like breaking apart families, are often white liberal feminist women, who have found ways to keep their own marriages and families intact (well, I wouldn't want to go in with a magnifying glass, since I will most likely find a liberal, wimpy, feminist male), but are ready to sacrifice others as foot soldiers for their cause.

The less political, and often non-white, women working at the front desks of the immigrant women's support agencies often have stable and what look like happy families (I noticed this, and mentioned it several times at my job), but they promote these ideas of family separation often because it is their job, and they have to accept it to keep their their jobs. But at some point, they too begin to believe the propaganda they are spoon fed (not for them, of course - there's always a hierarchy of recipients in the accusations and realities of battered women). But, they are participating in the destruction of a society simply because they don't, and possibly cannot, say otherwise.

For the sake of liberal rearrangement of society, everyone becomes a pawn, or at least a propaganda soldier. Those at the very bottom of that hierarchy, a hierarchy that is clearly and hypocritically present in the liberal set up, often have the most to lose. And in the case of battered women, it is the women who have somehow been convinced to discard their husbands as abusers, and who have to live a life dependent on another hierarchical superior: a cold and faceless government agency.
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Thursday, December 13, 2018

Elite Liberals


Sunday, December 9, 2018

Germans and Civilization


Photo of sleeping quarters
in the palace Residenz Platz in Wurzburg, Bavaria
[Photo By: KPA, ca 1980]


The Ernst Zundel event was seven years before I was to become a "Landed Immigrant" in Canada. I acquired this status based on the high points I obtained through my educational merits: BS, MS, and ABD - All But the Dissertation - in the sciences, and my language proficiency in both French and English, although I had Spanish and Amharic on my list too.

I read Ernst Zundel years later, and sad to say I went wth the MSM reports of "anti-semite, who deserves his prison term."

Now, of course as I write to advance the Western Civilization's contributions to beauty, and especially the German civilization's (how about Mozart), I begin to understand the truth.
The record of the persecution of German-Canadian heretic Ernst Zundel by a de facto Sanhedrin, for publishing the book, 'Did Six Million Really Die?' is almost too fantastic to countenance. Zundel was prosecuted in Toronto under an archaic False News provision of an old Edwardian legal code. He faced two years in prison if convicted. In response, he put the so-called Holocaust' itself on trial. Zundel's defense was initially regarded by the press and public as preposterous. How can anyone 'deny the Holocaust?' was the incredulous response to the news that Zundel would vigorously defend himself and the free speech rights of all Canadians. The trial was expected to be a quick and ignominious rout of Zundel and his supporters. But in a startling reversal, the 'survivors' who had appeared in court in order to send him to jail, had to submit their testimony to scrutiny, the rules of evidence and cross-examination, something that had never happened before and has never happened since. Canadians grew ever more surprised and shocked at the amazing admissions which the defense team elicited from the supposed eyewitnesses to the homicidal gas chambers. As a result, television reporters and print journalists who covered the 1985 trial produced broadcasts and news reports that turned Canada upside down. Zundel was tried again in 1988. The Great Holocaust Trial reports on both thought crime trials. Softcover, 182 pages. Illustrated. Large format.

The above text is from:
The Great Holocaust Trial: The Landmark Battle for the Right to Doubt the West’s Most Sacred Relic
By Michael Hoffman

Friday, December 7, 2018

The Head Table: How to Lead


Dining Hall at Betteshanger School (now called Northbourne Park School)
The panels on the far wall lists student leaders and scholarship recipients
The Head Table (not visible) is at the opposite end (image source)


The Head Table

All the prefects, and the head girl and head boy, sat at the head table. There were no other staff other than Mr. Peacock, the head staff himself, the headmaster.

As Head Girl, I sat on the right hand of Mr. Peacock. My co-ruler. the Head Boy. sat on his left.

There was no conversation on the Head Table, not even when the dining room was murmuring with the conversations of the young diners (what could they be talking about?). We, at the Head Table, sat stoically still, unobtrusively moving our hands to eat our meals, which we did in an exemplary manner. We were well-educated by patient teachers determined to civilize us, which they certainly had succeeded by the time we were appointed as the leaders of the school. Even the handling of cutlery had it own peculiar protocol, peculiar that is, to the English. One cuts the food with fork in left hand and knife in right, then switches the fork over to the right to pick the meat and the potatoes with the knife in the left gently pushing the food onto the fork. For dessert, if it some solid food like cake, trifle or pie, then the fork is in the right hand nudging the food onto the spoon in the left. There is no switching of utensils required here. There was of course the golden rule of no talking while chewing (or eating), which kept one's mouth tightly shut, otherwise exposing unsightly half-eaten food.

The dearth of conversation at our silent head-post helped us to concentrate on chewing and eating, relieving us from the errors of exposing half-eaten food while attempting to talk at the same time. Those of our very young proteges out in the plebeians' sections had to follow the same rules of decorum and of proper chewing and eating. But they were not so lucky, not having built mechanism to ensure that they kept quiet, and mouths closed, as they chewed. Our Headmaster would occasionally shout into the dining room at some poor junior who neglected a rule, or a mischievous senior who thought he could get away with it, not that they were they only miscreants, rather they served as examples for all the others to try harder at being civilized. But Mr. Peacock was not all about punishments and reprimands. He would occasionally emit a deep guffaw at some prankish youngster, a future comic who, is inadvertently auditioning for a part in the next school production of a Shakespearean comedy.

But the silent Head Table was strangely comforting. We knew our Headmaster was actually protecting us with this code of silence from emitting odd sounds, as children are wont to do, and we were 13-year-old children still, or disclosing undisclosable stories and events: "Did you now that Carruthers rode his bike all the way down the hill without holding the handles?" Which would result in said boy having his bike confiscated for a whole week!

And how does one converse with a Headmaster anyway?

We were being trained fit to be at Her Royal Highness’ Table, or any other Highness' for that matter, and that was the point: perfection with the highest goal in mind. That was the meaning of the "preparatory school," to prepare these pupils to be civilized, cultured AND educated adults.

But before we started the mundane activity of eating our meal, there were thanks to be made. And as Head Girl, I had the heavy responsibility of Thanking our Saviour "for what we are about to receive."

"May the Lord make us truly thankful,” I would finish off the blessing.

But I was also ready to forestall this blessing if I felt not all the students came to the required attention, a privilege I rarely used. But one meal time, I made the decision of telling an especially irritating senior student, who regularly disrupted meals, often with minor misbehavior requiring a simple "Tamara that's enough," try her luck at disrupting my Grace.

I waited for her to come to attention. But she didn't, she wouldn't. With no prior warning, I said: "Tamara, please leave the dining room." All heads and prefects are constantly being tested by students. This particular one got angry, then apologetic, then loud. I talked over her and repeated "Please leave the room." She left the dining room and waited outside until the end of the meal when she received hers in the empty dining hall. She had no choice, else a heavy punishment. I had won, not just that battle, but a possible prolonged war. She never disturbed my Grace again.

Once the Grace was over, this very short but very important part of the meal signaled the permission to "go ahead, eat and be merry" for this roomful of robust, rambunctious school children, mostly boys, and though the girls were quieter they no less devious. And they certainly knew how to eat, and even be merry, under the watchful eyes of the silent table at the far end of the hall, at the Head Table.

I left a tangible legacy in this Great Room, not just floating memories of reprimanded pupils. My name is engraved in gold letters on two beautiful boards of red-brown wood hanging on one of the dark oak-paneled walls: on one as head girl (along with the head boy with whom I ruled), and on the other as an "Astor Student" named after the scholarship I would receive to attend my secondary school, Dover College, only an hour's drive away, by the famed White Cliffs and the turbulent waters of the English Channel, and daunting for a young girl about to return to the bottom rungs of the scholastic and social ladder.

But I had my years of training and education at my Great Hall, a true student of Mr. Peacock. I knew I would handle my new adventure.

Thursday, December 6, 2018

Family Photos


Peter Brimelow of Vdare with wife Lydia Brimelow
Photo for their 2018 end-of-year donation drive for Vdare
with a letter signed by Lydia Brimelow

Note: All photos are from Vdare or Brimelow's twitter page, unless otherwise noted




Here is a linked article I originally found through James Perloff's tweet (via Henry Makow's tweet - thank God for hyperlinks!) referring to an article from Slate "Is It OK to Be This Annoyed About Older Men Who Date Much Younger Women?"

I'm not sure about annoyed, but rather "creeped out" might be the right phrase. The Slate article uses the childish word "ick" to describe "May-December frolicking" as an "ick-factor."
Why care that two consenting adults are canoodling when a demagogue is about to take the White House? (Donald Trump, for the record, is 24 years older than his wife Melania, and each time he’s gotten married, it’s been to a younger woman. But anyway.) It’s just so transparent, watching one of these paragons of fragile masculinity take his male privilege out for a spin and realize he can date someone so young she won’t know how inappropriate it is. High five! Why not father a child you’ll be too old to raise properly while you’re at it? The exact ages and differentials vary, but each one reinforces one important point: Women get less valuable as they age, while men just get to enjoy the ride.
The article continues:
...different experiences and life stages are inevitably going to make it harder to relate. Attention from an older man might feel flattering, but do your future self a solid and ask: Why isn’t this guy interested in people his own age?

[...]

...if someone wants you to be the May to their December or vice versa, don’t let ‘em. In the end, this is no time to be a traitor to your generation. Instead, find someone your own age who’s even hotter. Get you a man you can talk about Pokémon Go with—or get you a woman you can talk about the Carter administration with.
The writer has it just right. But more than that, such a disparity in age will most likely (most certainly, I would say) results with children who will probably never see their father live to see them through to their late-teenage and young adulthood years, usually the age when most offspring need a strong father figure holding court at home even (and these days it becomes more apparent, especially) young women. The mother is the court-holder and home regulator for both boys and girls through their childhood and early teens. At those later ages, when both boys and girls are ready to take on the world, they require and need the presence of their stabilizing father.

There is a psychological theory out that boys are the ones who need their dads most at these early ages. But I disagree. The promiscuity, the feminism-induced "girl-power," and other modern blights we see in young girls is a direct result of released anger at a father who didn't (couldn't) fulfill his role.

The individual decision between such couples to marry and have offspring now becomes a societal problem of adults in arrested psychological development, searching perennially for their stability.

Perhaps the best these May-December couples can do is simply not have children. But that would be terribly unfair to the younger (much younger) of the couple and often the one with no prior children, who has to sacrifice decades of child-bearing age to be in a marriage and a husband who most likely will not be around to support her.

The best they can do is not marry at all.

I made a similar judgment years ago in 2010 at my blog Camera Lucida: A Picture is Worth a Thousand Words. And Two Pictures?. I've posted the full article below the photos:



September 2018, with Brimelow's two older children from his previous marriage (with Maggie Laws Brimelow who died of cancer in 2004), and newer family


Daughters in December 2017


With Son and Infant Daughter in 2015


Camera Lucida
November 20, 2010
A Picture is Worth a Thousand Words. And Two Pictures?


Mr. and Mrs. Brimelow, with infant child in tow.
(Photo from the H.L. Mencken Club Club Conference in 2010)

I've been debating whether to post these photos. But, they are on public sites, and are obviously meant to be looked at and commented on.

Look at the first photograph, with Peter Brimelow as a "new" (old) father but closer in age to being a great-grandfather. He's with his new wife, Vdare contributor Lydia Sullivan who writes under the pen name Athena Kerry, who is holding their infant child. From what I've read at Brimelow's site Vdare and what Wikipedia tells me, his new wife is forty years younger than him! Still, Sullivan has a hard glint in eyes like someone that goes after what she wants, and gets it. Such character doesn't discriminate by age.

The top photo was taken at the 2010 M.L. Mencken conference where Brimelow presented a paper. He took the infant girl along. I presume he did this to show her. But why that awkward expression, as though he's in the wrong place, with the wrong people, at the wrong time? Also, he shows a strange deference towards Sullivan, the way he's leaning a little too humbly towards her and the infant. Usually, a new father stands proud and straight next to his family, especially in a public setting.

Didn't Lydia Sullivan, a.k.a. Athena Brimelow, have any family members, a concerned and conservative mother who said "under no circumstances" at the prospect of this marriage? Brimelow is close to seventy. Some father he will be to a young child. Was there no one thinking of the ensuing babies, who was concerned by the prospect that they might be born, and endure such a life?

Such is the case with "conservatives" these days, who really behave like liberals. But Brimelow is an avowed libertarian, so his motto is, "I'll do what I wish, and apres moi le deluge." Yes, the whole thing is as pompous as Louis XV's famous phrase. At least his excuse was that he was King of France. What does Brimelow have? And look what happened to Louis and his reign. Or more like, what Louis wrought.


L-R: Genevieve Sullivan (sister), Grandmother Von Talbot,
Mother Deonne Sullivan, and Lydia Sullivan


The second photo is of Sullivan with the female members of her family: her grandmother, mother and sister. Sullivan is at the far right. Again, I am struck by the hard edge in her eyes. Her sister is on the far left. What a difference. One would have thought that the grandmother, who looks strict and principled, might have been the one to rein things in.