New Diversity Manual Instructs Police on How to Deal with Pagans

As sure as day turns into night is the World going more bonkers with every passing day. Hardcore pagans are well and truly in the frame of the multicultural, politically correct society and the police are being given guides in how to 'deal' with them. Have they never watched 'The Wicker Man' or something? I guess we have to accept that living in a pluralistic society means that we have to respect wizards, warlocks, druids, witches and people who believe say things like, "I was lost once. I thought I was going to end up in Heaven or something, the way I was living, but thankfully 'old nick' introduced me to palm reading and tarot cards and I haven't looked back since, with loads of cash off the impressionable in this life and a nice warm place for me when I die."

The Telegraph reports...

The advice is contained in a 300-page "diversity handbook" which gives officers a range of "dos and don'ts" when approaching followers of a range of religions and other beliefs, from atheism to Zoroastrianism.

Instructions include avoid touching a witch's "Book of Shadows", which contains their spells, or handling their ceremonial dagger. The online handbook also advises officers not to jump to conclusions if they encounter a situation where a blindfolded, naked person is tied by their hands – they could merely have stumbled upon a pagan ritual, where such activities are normal practice.

You can imagine it, can't you. A couple of police are called to an 'incident' in a London road. They've taken a call from a distressed man crying and saying, "Hurry, she's got a massive knife and she's going to kill me! My hands are tied!" On arrival they crash through the door of number 666 Hades Street only to find a naked man tied up, blindfolded and praying for deliverance.

A woman dressed up as Kate Bush in the video for 'Wuthering Heights' comes in and says, "Can I help officers? I was just preparing my massive knife to perform a satanic ritual upon this man? Would you like a cup of tea?"

The officers respond, "No, madam. We received a distress call for this address and we can see now you're just going about your religious rituals. We won't disturb you any longer. We'll have your door fixed first thing tomorrow. Come on Jeff, fancy a pint?"

The man cries out, "Please God! Officers, please help me. She's going to kill me!"

The officers reply, "Sorry son, its not our job to interfere in religious practises. Lighten up! She's only practising her religion! Chill out! Is this man disturbing you, madam?"

"No," the witch replies, "but thank you for your concern. Night officers! Shall I see you out?"

Now, I'm waiting for the comments saying, 'Dear Mr England, you do a terrible disservice to witchcraft...'

I was in Brighton last night and stumbled across the former drummer of my now defunct, inactive 'folk-rock' band. We reminisced over our heady days playing the Hare and Hounds to four people and a barman. Oh, yes, those were the days! Outside of the pub, I found some undead people and interviewed them. Brightonians, eh?! You gotta love 'em! All Souls is Tuesday I'm told, by the way, not Monday!

See also: 

Damian Thompson 'The BBC sucks up to Pagans'

Fr Ray Blake's Blog 'Paganism in Brighton'

Hermeneutic of Continuity 'Liturgical Abuse Shocker'

A light-hearted post...

I had an email from an Anglican friend of mine last night, telling me to stop banging on about homelessness and religion, to talk about other things and 'What on earth would your parents think if they saw your blog?'

It's too late, mate, they've already seen it and I've already taken the phone call!

With this in mind then, I thought I'd post up something totally inoffensive to all apart from people who hate Creedence Clearwater Revival. This song makes no sense whatsoever, it looks like the drummers on acid, in fact it looks like they're all on something, come to think of it, but it will put you in a good mood for the day.

Why the Church Should Come to the Defence of Alcoholics and Drug Addicts

An officer does his 'duty'...

"How hard it is for the rich to enter the Kingdom of Heaven! It would be easier for a camel to go through the eye of a needle." 

Reading The Telegraph, I saw that society's self-righteous war on vice (for some) goes on unabated.

The Catholic Church condemns vice in whatever form it comes. Holy Mother Church proclaims (well, in some 'eccentric', 'taliban stronghold' parish Churches dotted around the land) that we are poor sinners who can find happiness in Christ alone.

The Church, however, like Her Divine Founder, Our Lord Jesus Christ, can or should be able to smell relativist hypocrisy or indeed ecclesiastical hypocrisy a mile-off. Primarily, the Church is the Instrument of Salvation and forgiveness, the Ark of Truth and Dispenser of Mercy. She is here to save souls in proclaiming the Gospel. While ever conscious of the need to encourage us steadfastly towards holiness of life, She is as acutely aware now of our human weakness, our fragile, fallen human nature as ever She was.

And, if there was one vice Our Blessed Lord could not abide, it was the rank hypocrisy of those who followed the 'letter of the law' rather than its spirit. What Christ saw in the Pharisees was a false religiosity that honoured appearances before God, the law before Justice, sacrifices before Mercy. This is one very, very good reason why the Church should come to the defence of alcoholics and drug addicts whether homeless or not. Stay with me on this one, because, though it sounds terribly wet and liberal, I assure you, that in coming to the defence of drug addicts and street drinkers, we are ploughing very fertile ground for the Gospel and here is the reason.

We live in an age in which sin is glorified, promoted and embraced. We live in an age, and I just so happen to live in a town, where sodomy, abortion, adultery, divorce, all manner of sexual activity, pornography and, up to a point, drunkenness is accepted, promoted, condoned and defended. In this country, sin, even the sin of murder, is enshrined into legislation.

You would think, therefore, that in the United Kingdom, sin had had its victory and that Christ had never come. Everyone is free to sin and live for pleasure alone, for it is a lawless country of loose morality, immorality indeed, debauchery and excess and everyone is partying in a big city of vice and enjoying every minute of it. Or are they?

No, most certainly they are not! It is a case of one law for some and another law for others. This, this, is perhaps one of the profound and grave, secondary, or tertiary scandals of sin - that when the poor sin, they are punished, but when the rich sin, they are protected! So it is, that in media offices around the country, in police, in solicitors, or every level of 'respectable society' you will find all manner of vice, from drugs to the rest. Who is punished? Hardly anybody! If you are a drunkard or cokehead working for a respectable firm and you get wasted every weekend, who is punished? Very, very few. But if you are poor and honest, and you do not pretend to be that which you are not, if you are homeless or a hostel dweller in Brighton, and you sit on a green and drink all day, or you are entrapped by police and found with drugs, what happens then? You are brought before the judge and sentenced to a year and a half in Lewes Prison. When the poor do what the rich do, only in broad daylight, it is called 'anti-social behaviour' and results in jail sentences.

I will bet you what I've got, which is not very much, that the officer pouring a can away in St James Street pictured above is not half as innocent as he makes out. I'll bet you he's a first class sinner, because only a first class sinner would be so blind as to do such a thing to a poor man, forgetting his own sins and hating his brother enough to pour away his drink! I'll bet you that the judges who have judged my friend, Jason, so many times, are not half as respectable as they make out. I'll bet you what I have, which is not much, that half of the judges who have sent Jason down so many times for his offenses are not so clean as they have made out and as they have judged, so they too will be judged. The measure that they have given out will be returned to them!

This, brothers and sisters, this is one of the reasons that Our Blessed Lord loves the poor and encourages us to do the same. He loves Justice. He loves Mercy. He despises all lies and pride. He loves sinners. He loves the honest, the humble, those within whom there is no guile or deceit, not those who live for show, the proud, the respectable, the conceited. He urges us to love the poor because He is in them, mysteriously. He urges us to love the poor because they are punished in this life for their sins, while the rich believe that their money will buy them favour with men, protect them from retribution for wrongdoing and all because they think not of God. He urges us to love the poor because the punishment that He received in place of all of us, the sufferings and the scourgings of His Blessed Passion are renewed or made visible in them. Our Lord Jesus Christ loved sinners. He died for sinners! He still loves sinners!

'How can you love God who you cannot see if you do not love your neighbour who you can see?' 

This was the question posed by St John, the Beloved Apostle. Those who deny the humanity of the unborn, even in the face of overwhelming scientific evidence, scans showing the development of the unborn child, still deny the humanity of the unborn because they cannot love that which they cannot see face to face. We are ploughing fertile ground in showing to society the sufferings of the Poor and the shameful way in which they are treated, since there can be little denying their humanity! They talk, walk, breathe, they are visibly human, and while the rights protected for the rich are so often removed from them, and they are so often treated like dirt, we can stand up and say, "No! These people have God-given dignity and you cannot deny that to them!" They can even say it for themselves. The Church, too, should defend them, since very few in society will do so. A Godless society will despise the poor for it will be blind. Even those who proclaim that there is no God, nor any objective reality, will turn around and condemn the very poor for their actions! Their hypocrisy rises up to Heaven!

Hypocrisy

We have found a great crack, a gaping chasm, a great weakness in the 'equal' veneer of secular society! Secular society prides itself on its 'equality' and 'fairness', imagining a brave new world in which religion has been overthrown and reason is supreme, of fraternal brotherhood. Yet, it is only equality for some! There is no moral reason, in a society in which there is no such thing as sin, objective wrong, to throw the poor man's drink away since he is only doing what everyone else is doing! How can secular society call itself just and fair, or equal, if society agrees with authorities that do what is reflected in picture above?

In a society in which sin is the certified norm, how can the authorities condemn the Poor whose only crime, in the eyes of the law, is not having the wealth to protect them from the force of the law. It is a supreme and diabolical irony that a post-Christian society, in which morality is arbitrary and relative, in which so much wickedness is excused and deemed acceptable, will quickly condemn the Poor for doing what the rest of society does, only in the open, in the streets. Beggars are routinely given ASBOs and if they breach them they are put in jail. Isn't it about time these aggressive beggars, those charity muggers who want our bank details on city streets were put in prison?! Don't give to these charity muggers because your money will only go on admin costs and their commission will get spent on booze, fags and possibly drugs.

She'll only spend her commission on booze and fags

How much has the 'voluntary sterilisation' charity shown that to us!? Yes! For when the rich abuse their children through adultery and that terrible scourge of society, divorce, nobody comes from the State to take their children away because it is obvious that these are not fit to be called loving parents! But when the Poor are deemed to 'neglect' their children, who is banging on the door with a police officer in tow!? That's right! Social bleeding services!

We, like Our Blessed Lord Who condemned Pharisees, can call these new Pharisees, the men of 'law' and the society that looks down on beggars, drinkers and drug addicts, that locks them away for their 'anti-social' crimes, 'hypocrites' and 'vipers', since those who judge them are no better than those who they unjustly condemn! We can say the same of social services, since in a society ravaged by divorce, psychologically abusing children, who are social services to judge the poor for not being 'perfect parents'!? Because it is a society that has forgotten God, it is a society that has enshrined human hypocrisy into the law of the land!

Jaws

Jaws is the grand-daddy of all modern blockbusters. Demolishing existing box-office records, Steven Spielberg's shark tale set new standards for popular cinema: neat special effects, slick storytelling and thrill-ride structure appealing to teens and young adults, a lucrative market previously tapped only by cheesy AIP flicks. Filmgoers devoured it, and made Spielberg the king of Hollywood, only to be topped by George Lucas two years later.

One could argue that Jaws's impact was ultimately negative, opening the door for thirty-five years of mindless, explosion-filled, special-effects laden bombs. It's hard to deny, though, that Jaws itself is a phenomenal film, turning Peter Benchley's potboiler into a perfect, well-oiled crowd-pleaser. It may not be not great art but it sure as hell is great entertainment.

The idyllic New England resort town of Amity is turned upside down when two people are killed by a great white shark. Police Chief Martin Brody (Roy Scheider) tries to close the beaches, only to be stonewalled by the Mayor (Murray Hamilton): it's the height of tourist season, and word of a shark would lose Amity valuable tourist money. A gaggle of dumb bounty hunters kills a shark but Brody and shark expert Hooper (Richard Dreyfuss) are skeptical that it's the right one. It takes another round of carnage to convince the Mayor, and Brody and Hooper enlist crazy fisherman Quint (Robert Shaw) to bring the shark to heel.

Like all "movie brat" films, Jaws is replete with references to Spielberg favorites. Besides obvious Moby-Dick similarities, a "pull-away zoom" lifted from Vertigo and the obligatory homage to The Searchers, the biggest reference point is Them! Gordon Douglas's fine killer bug film clearly informs Jaws, from the collection of motley "specialist" heroes to the initially-unseen menace, the imperiled children and grieving Mother. Both films feature authorities covering up a danger to the community, but with decidedly different implications. Them's "let the government do it's job" attitude is replaced by post-Watergate cynicism: recalling Ibsen's An Enemy of the People, greedy officials lie and people suffer.

Spielberg and his writers (Benchley, Paul Gottlieb, Howard Sackler and John Milius) turn this melange of borrowed ideas into something special. The story is perfectly paced and structured, each scene fitting like a glove, and the film seemlessly transitions from horror to adventure. In the scenes between shark attacks we get wonderful bits of humor, character development and banality: Brody getting hectored by an irate old man, the banter between Brody and his wife (Lorraine Gary), the bumbling morons fishing with a pot roast, the Mayor's reaction to the final shark attack, Quint and Hooper's amusing rivalry. These wonderful slice-of-life vignettes raise Jaws miles above flicks like Transformers, where calling the protagonists "cardboard cutouts" is insulting to cardboard.

The smart script and Spielberg's humanism also skew standard horror crudity. The victims are mostly likeable and we don't get the tiresome trope of sleazy characters getting what they "deserve." Little Alex Kitner's death is obviously jolting, but more affecting is the quiet scene where his indignant mother (Lee Fierro) confronts Brody. There's ample gore but the real horror come from the primal terror at being eaten alive by a humungous shark. Of course, the biggest scare comes from an entirely different source, which I'll not spoil.

The film had a troubled production, with bad weather and a constantly-malfunctioning model shark delaying shooting, but few of the seams show. Spielberg keeps the shark hidden for most of the film; born out of necessity, this conceit enhances the film, ratcheting up the drama and suspense through fear of a lurking unknown. The shark does look fake but it doesn't matter: Quint's grisly demise is more agonizingly "real" than any besides Torn Curtain's murder scene. Brody's last stand is an impossibly intense, heart-stopping climax sure to make viewers stand up and cheer. Bill Butler's photography is superb, from the ominous attack scenes to the spirited seagoing sequences. John Williams's ominous, iconic score provides the perfect backdrop to the film.

Spielberg repeatedly returned to Jaws in his later films. Much of Jurassic Park is lifted wholesale, from the Quint-like Muldoon to the creepy severed limbs. The Lost World morphs Hooper into Vince Vaughn's Earth First vigilante; we're inexplicably expected to cheer for said dumbass as he singlehandedly endangers the whole cast. Whether or not this makes Spielberg an auteur, Jaws is clearly a career cornerstone, and even with his more "serious" work he's yet to top it.

Roy Scheider (Marathon Man) is the perfect Everyman hero and owns the film, even when his colorful co-stars step up to bat. Robert Shaw (A Man for All Seasons) gives perhaps a career-best performance: Quint could easily be a dime-store Ahab, but Shaw infuses him with a perfect mixture of self-effacing ham and tormented gravitas, culminating in the bone-chilling Indianapolis monologue. Richard Dreyfuss (Dillinger) is an amusing if obnoxious character. Murray Hamilton's (The Graduate) fine performance lifts the Mayor above the usual slimy politician. Lorraine Gary, Jeffrey Kramer and Lee Fierro have nice supporting roles.

Jaws is unquestionably Steven Spielberg's masterpiece. The endless parade of mindless blockbusters, not to mention three lackluster sequels and countless rip-offs, have tarnished its reputation. But it would be unfair not to give Spielberg his due: we would be lucky if even a fraction of Hollywood's output were as entertaining as Jaws.

PS: Please read this excellent, exhaustively in-depth analysis of the film by Jabootu. He had a lot more time and patience to analyze this film than me, and it's definitely worth any Jaws fan's time.

FOCCUS Marriage Preparation

A couple before being irritated by FOCCUS

A lot of material has been written about Marriage Care, on the way in which, over the years, it has experienced a steady decline/freefall in reflecting Church Teaching on the Sanctity of Marriage.

I don't know too much about the background of that. I'm a new kid on the blog and all I can say is that, as someone preparing for marriage, and having paid up the £75 for the privilege of being prepared for something for which I am told that nothing can prepare you, it is a shambles.

Apparently, we will receive 3 sessions of pre-marriage preparation, after which I'll probably turn around and say, "Thanks for that. I'm still skint anyway so the marriage looks a long way off. Do you have 25p, please, I need some Rizla papers."  I have been told by others who have gone through it that it really is a case of 'ticking boxes', that there's no real Catholicism in it. No wonder families are falling apart at a rate of knots, rather than the knots being actually tied!

I was shocked to learn that the Marriage Care organisation sends its 'clients' on to FOCCUS, an online questionnaire, for a 'Pre-Marriage Inventory'. Have these people no brains? Immediate questions that spring to mind are:

• What if I didn't know how to use a computer?
• What if I was too poor to own a computer and internet?
• What if I had not been educated in online/internet shenanigans?
• And, moreover, what on earth am I doing, filling in an inventory online for some company FOCCUS Inc, in the USA?! Am I an American? Who on earth is this company that Marriage Care have leapt into bed with just to do a psychological/compatibility questionnaire? What with being experts in marriage after God alone knows how many years, you'd have thought that they could think a pre-marriage inventory up themselves and have you fill it out at one of their sessions!

My fiancee has filled in hers online and my password has expired. I was about half way through. So, they've just emailed to say, that in order to reset my password, her password has to be re-set too, which means she has to do it all over again as well! Great! Well, isn't online technology just making everything so much easier!?

Surely, surely, Marriage Care could just send couples a preparatory questionnaire document that we can fill in or perhaps their own internet thing without assuming that EVERYONE uses the internet. There are still some trees left in the World, Marriage Care! Sack this US company off because they're a pile of balls! £75 for this crap and I was going broke at the time as well! Is this company just out to FOCCUS?!

Feast of St Jude, Patron of Lost Causes

Et lux in tenebris lucet, et tenebrae eam non comprehenderunt.

And the light shineth in darkness, and the darkness did not comprehend it.

'No job, no career, no marriage, no sanctity, no vocation, no house, no children, no future. I'm a loser.'

If you have thoughts like mine, do not despair, for we 'lost causes' have a powerful intercessor and advocate in St Jude, even at the age of 33...for nothing is impossible to God, nor difficult... 

For those wondering if 'eco' light bulbs are a con...

A replacement bulb for my bathroom in the 'eco-flat' where I live is £9.20.

That is the most expensive light bulb I have ever heard of!

And the guy wanted £35 to come and fit it!

The Right to Live as a Family is Under Attack

Sweden: Famed for its meatballs, eugenics and 'strong welfare state'

I've had an email from a lady in the UK called Margaret. Thought it was worth posting. Everyone thinks Sweden is so great, forgetting its recent history in embracing the ideology of eugenics.

'I am the member of a group attempting to gain some publicity for a family in Sweden (one of many) who have been torn apart by the social services for no reason other than a difference of ideology .

The Swedish situation is extremely frightening, and actually more extreme than in this country, but serves as a warning for what can happen if these draconian powers, pitted against the rights of families, are not challenged. The undermining of the rights of families to bring children up according to their own beliefs is happening everywhere.

I know you will be aware of the attempts to enforce anti-Christian sex education policies in this country, together with the rights of parents to know what 'health' advice and 'treatment' is being given to their children.

My homeschooling friends report that there is also hostility in some quarters to their rights to educate their own children. This Swedish family are now appealing to the European Court of Human rights to have their child returned, but unless they get some more support the case might not even be heard. Many people are praying for them (including Tyburn Convent), but they could really do with a powerful voice (Powerful? Loud, maybe!) from the church militant, such as yourself, to spread the word. I am posting a link so you can check the case out for yourself: There is a link on the facebook group to an excellent website with more detailed information and heartbreaking 'before and after' photos. You may not feel that the case is relevant to your readers, but please check it out and see what you think.

So, there we go. In the words of Bryan Adams, in that hit that spent ages at number one, "You can''t tell me its not worth fighting for". Click here for a link to the Facebook campaign to have Domenic Johansson returned to his parents. Click here to sign a petition against his unwarranted seizure from his parents. We could see more of this happening in the UK, Europe and the US also, over efforts at parents to have their children homeschooled. Click here for a blog set up to raise awareness of the injustice suffered by Domenic and his family at the hands of the State.

On another note, if you look up the word 'Eugenics' on Wikipedia, Sweden feature strongly in the entry.

In Sweden, the Sterilization Act of 1934 provided for the voluntary sterilization of some mental patients. The law was passed while the Swedish Social Democratic Party was in power, though it was also supported by all other political parties in Parliament at the time, as well as the Lutheran Church and much of the medical profession. From about 1934 to until 1975, Sweden sterilized more than 62,000 people, with Herman Lundborg in the lead of the project. Sweden sterilized more people than any other European state except Nazi Germany. However, it is more reasonable to compare numbers per capita. If so, Finland has sterilised the most and the Nordic countries and the state of California sterilised about the same percentage. More people were sterilized in 1948 than any other year.

Sweden's large-scale eugenics program targeted the deviant and the mentally ill. Most sterilizations were voluntary (though voluntary does not necessarily mean free from persuasion or exhortation). The Swedish government inquiry found that about 30,000 of the 62,000 were sterilised under some form of pressure or coercion. As was the case in other programs, ethnicity and race were believed to be connected to mental and physical health. The Swedish government inquiry denied that the Swedish sterilisation program targeted ethnic minorities but did not provide any evidence for this and the government´s claims are contradicted by the experiences recounted by Swedish gypsies and travellers.

There is proof that the program targeted women. The goal of the program was to decrease deviant offspring. If one member of a family was considered deviant the whole family became the target of an investigation. It was perceived to be easier to persuade a woman to be sterilized than it was to persuade a man. For this reason women were more often sterilized than men, despite the fact that the medical procedure involved in the sterilization was simpler to carry out on a man.

Even as far as 1996, social democrats rejected paying compensation to those who had been sterilized. No one in Sweden raised the issue of compensation to the victims until there was international attention to Swedish eugenics following a 1997 series of articles in by the Polish-born journalist Maciej Zaremba, in Sweden´s largest daily, Dagens Nyheter. In 1999 the Swedish government began paying compensation to the sterilized and their families an equivalent to 21,000 USD to those who had "not consented" and who applied for the compensation.

The real 'pay day', of course, will come at the Last Judgment. Aside from the blatant strand of eugenics that runs through arguments for those who wish to offer drug addicts cash to cut their tubes, this information on the case of Sweden, as well as the obvious examples from history in the US and Germany should serve as a warning to us not to repeat their errors. Say a prayer for the victims of the tsunami in Indonesia too.

Your Classic Movie SUCKS! #5: The Exorcist

I was finally convinced to watch The Exorcist (1973) after reading DVD Savant's vituperative review a few weeks back. The liberal Savant was offended by what he viewed as reactionary Christian propaganda, problems I'm not likely to share with my center-right sensibilities. What did bug me about The Exorcist, however, is that it's not very good - or, more to the point, that it's not very scary.

I've posted a few rants about horror films before, and I stand by previous comments: the gorier and more obvious a film's "scares" are, the less scary it is. The Exorcist is a case in point, being a grotesque vomitorium of gore, goop and ghouls hiding behind a veneer of Catholic respectability. Sure, it's a first class production with lots of talent in front of and behind the camera. But what's it for?

Actress Chris MacNeill (Ellen Burstyn) is filming a movie in Georgetown, DC, when her daughter Regan (Linda Blair) begins displaying some genuinely frightening behavior. Regan's condition goes from foul language and bad behavior to super-human strength and hideous physical transformation, which doctors and psychiatrists are at a loss to explain. Things grow more complicated when film director Burke Dennings (Jack Macgowran) dies mysteriously while babysitting Regan. Chris contacts Father Karras (Jason Miller), a young priest who is losing faith after the death of his mother, for help, believing her daughter is demonically possessed. Karras is initially skeptical, but ultimately receives sanction to call in experienced exorcist Father Merrin (Max Von Sydow), who recognizes Regan's tormentor as his arch-nemesis, the demon Pazuzu (voice of Mercedes McCambridge).

Adapted from William Peter Blatty's novel, The Exorcist is a first-rate job by William Friedkin (The French Connection) and company on a technical level. Owen Roitzman and Billy Williams provide moody, creepy photography, and there is lots of impressive make-up and visual effects as Regan's possession progresses. The musical score (mostly "found" classical music) is effectively creepy, especially Mike Oldfield's Tubular Bells. The lengthy climax, with Merrin and Karras directly confronting Pazuzu, is a fine, gripping set-piece that works on its own merits, logic or build-up aside. It's shame that all of this effort isn't in service of a better film, but there's the rub.

In the backwash of the "New Hollywood" revolution in graphic violence, sex and language, The Exorcist makes no pretense to subtlety. Compared even to Rosemary's Baby just six years prior, Friedkin's effort is cartoonishly obvious. After half-an-hour of ominous build-up, we get a prolonged geek show with each disgusting scene trying to top the last. The effect is tiresome and numbing: it's easy to shock an audience with crucifix masturbation, projectile vomit and spinning heads - especially when a 12-year old girl is doing it. That's step one. Step two is offering something more than grotesque imagery, or else it gets old in hurry. So it is here: another horror film that thinks innundating viewers with slime is the ultimate fright.

I have no objections to the theological material. The movie has to be taken on its own terms here, and if anything it's nice to see a film where the forces of good aren't helpless and impotent (The Amityville Horror). I say, if you're going to have Satan in one corner, you should have equally-powerful representatives of God in opposition. However, the film leaves unanswered something I've always wondered about the exorcism phenomenon: with all the Evil he could be spreading throughout the world, why would Satan (or his minions) waste so much effort bothering a little girl? A more faithful viewer could accept possession logic at face-value, but I find it difficult to take the whole idea seriously.

A more fundamental issue is the sloppy story-telling: the film is awkwardly paced and sags whenever Regan isn't cussing and puking. The opening Iraq sequence is beautifully shot and ominous, but goes on needlessly long and does little more than establish Merrin's character. The scenes between the vomit and girl-swearing are mostly filler: a film buff detective (Lee J. Cobb) turns up for two long scenes of small talk, and a bevy of doctors and psychiatrists repeatedly prove their own clueless. Father Karras's doubts and inner conflict provide some nice character drama, but he's made almost irrelevant when Super-Priest Merrin shows up. The movie spasmodically jerks from quiet scenes to loud frights, in an obvious attempt to jar the audience. Sorry, I'm not biting.

The acting is mostly good. Ellen Burstyn (W.) makes the most of a role that mostly involves horrified reactions and pleading. Linda Blair struggles through a difficult, taxing role, replete with physical torture, grisly make-up and garishness, with a foul demonic voice provided by Mercedes McCambridge (Johnny Guitar). Max Von Sydow (Shutter Island) gets the showiest part, but Jason Miller's sensitive Father Karras does the real heavy lifting. Lee J. Cobb (On the Waterfront) is a completely superfluous filler character. Several real priests - most notably the charming Reverend William O'Malley - fill in supporting roles quite nicely.

Ultimately, The Exoricst is not so much a horror film as a horrible one. Wakka wakka. No doubt more faithful (or credulous) viewers, or less demanding ones, will continue to find it one of the scariest movies ever, but I'll take the creepy shadows and subtlety of The Cat People over another green vomit bath, thank you very much.

"You're Barred!"

One essential item for the rough sleeper...

Yesterday was a breath of fresh air for me on a personal basis.  I taught at the Brighton Unemployed Centre Families Project (BUCFP), Adobe InDesign, a desk top publishing software to a class of six.  So much more rewarding and so much less exasperating than teaching a class of 33 six year old children! Also, it feels good to be able to use a talent God has given me in a positive way, rather than just arseing about like I normally do.

One lady has been asked by the BUCFP to design a 'Rough Sleepers Guide to Brighton', the contents of which have been drawn up with the help of Paul and Neil, regular users of the Soup Run.

There is a life-affirming atmosphere at the BUCFP.  At lunchtime, the children come out of the creche and it feels like a proper family centre with people chatting and eating a cheap meal.  Over the next few years it is likely that due to cuts and the resulting public sector unemploymed, this place will get even busier.  Brighton has always been a bit of a graveyard for jobs, reliant on tourism and a great deal of seasonal work. The Council, Amex and Lloyds TSB have, in recent history, been the largest employers and all will surely be shedding staff in the near future, though the Spending Review did seem to let banks off rather.

A rough sleepers guide to Brighton is a good idea.  It aims to set out the homeless services in Brighton from the perspective of someone arriving on the train.  People without a 'local connection' usually get shafted. "Brighton's full," the Council will say, while leaving hundreds of properties boarded up and empty. St Peter's Church, the Soup Runs in Hove and Brighton, the First Base Day Centre and others will be featured, providing the homeless with a detailed booklet of all available services.

The level of social exclusion in Brighton is appalling. Jason related to me a couple of stories that I think are worth sharing. His rough sleepers worker, Harvey, accompanied him to a homeless hostel in Brunswick Square, Hove. He walked a particularly long route to get there with his worker. He was still wearing his heavy winter clothes and so was sweating profusely.  When he finally arrived at the door of the hostel the proprietor opened the door, took one look at him and said he recognised him from other hostels and told him that he was "barred", summararily closing the door in his face.  Either the hostels talk to each other or the proprietor judged Jason there and then because he looked unwashed and was sweating profusely so suspected he was on drugs. I don't know the owner's real motivations but Jason felt rather let down, as you can imagine. I can't help feeling that if St Francis was accompanying Jason he'd have gone mental and kicked the door in, only to quote the Gospel to the proprietor.

Another bad experience followed at an evangelical church in London Road when he walked into the room early while some of the volunteers were saying a prayer. He interrupted and asked them a question, which was answered by the "vicar", in Jason's words, coming over to him and grabbing him by the neck, pushing him up against a wall, chucking him outside and barring him from the Church meal, apparently permanently! I'll bet that vicar didn't expect news of his reaction to Jason getting online but, hey ho, there we go. Jason is also barred from the evangelical Christians '[MFI warehouse', Church of Christ the King, near where I live. They'll give him a meal but he is not allowed inside to be preached at and encouraged to say a 'Jesus prayer' to make his and all the homelesses' sins and misfortunes magically disappear, as so often these evangelical Protestants believe that it will.  You could argue it is a Godsend to be excluded. It only sends him back to the One True Church more aware of the evils of Protestantism. I know Jason can be 'hard work' at times, but I really do think there is something diabolical in the way in which he is treated as 'sub-human' by so many. Landlords, hostels, probation, the Council, even 'vicars' don't know how to handle him and believe me, I've lost my rag with him on more than one occasion, thoughby the Grace of God I've never laid a finger on him.

Ideally, I'd like to start a magazine here at the BUCFP in which contributers can learn the design skills, write for the magazine or simply tell their stories and dispense some good old fashioned written justice to those in positions of power and responsibility who have crapped on them from a great height. The next post will also be a post along these lines! Bloody Swedes!

Last Holiday (1950)

Last Holiday (1950) is another charming British comedy starring Alec Guinness. A low-key mixture of fantasy and social satire, it's lifted above its innocuous stature by Guinness's superb performance.

Mild-mannered salesman George Bird (Alec Guinness) is diagnosed with "Lampington's disease," an invariably fatal illness. Distraught, Bird decides to make the most of his last weeks on Earth, withdrawing his bank account and going on vacation. He arrives at a hotel patronized by rich guests, who assume Bird is an eccentric millionaire. Bird flits about, offering help and advice to everyone, from the romantic to the social (encouraging the hotel staff to strike against unfair treatment). Only Mrs. Poole (Kay Walsh), the housekeeper, suspects his secret.

Last Holiday's slight, silly plot engages in some mild social satire: Bird's arrival in high society, and all the wealthy guests (improbably) learn the value of a hard day's work when the staff goes on strike. But mostly it's a fluffy star vehicle, with Guinness excelling in the lead role. He's rarely been more charming or likeable, making Bird an endearingly flustered and forthright protagonist. The twist ending comes as a real punch in the gut: just as the snobbish clientelle turn on Bird, an unspeakable tragedy occurs.

Guinness is backed by an interesting supporting cast. Beatrice Campbell seems the nominal love interest, but it's Kay Walsh who generates the most chemistry with Guinness, anticipating their future collaborations on The Horse's Mouth and Tunes of Glory. Wilfrid Hyde-White (My Fair Lady), Sid James (The Lavender Hill Mob) and Bernard Lee (Dr. No) also feature in key roles.

Last Holiday is not a highpoint of Alec Guinness's career, but it's charming enough on its own lightweight merits. Over fifty years later, the story would be remade into a servicable vehicle for Queen Latifah, showing that the right star can make even the flimsiest material worthwhile.

Money Advice...

Firstly, thank you to a very generous Catholic priest in Bradford who has sent me a cheque for £200 for Jason to be used 'at my discretion'. So, obviously, I've given it to Jason to go and get sterilised...Joke!

No, seriously, I've spent some of it on food and tobacco for him because I don't think I can really start handing over ten, twenty, thirty, forty, fifty pounds to someone with an addiction to heroin. It would be on my conscience if I ever found him dead. Christ asked us to feed the hungry and clothe the naked and shelter the homeless. He didn't say, 'I needed some smack and you gave me the hit that killed Me.'

So, I'm asking advice about whether I should invest the money in some winter warm clothing for Jason, thermals, gloves, hat, sleeping bag and a set of bongos or something (he can play the drums, you see) until the Council get their act together or the Police have decided to put him back in the slammer for walking on the wrong side or the road, or put him in the Travelodge Hotel for 3 nights of business class executive luxury. Any advice? Disappointing that they don't have a sauna, swimming pool and jacuzzi. I could just do a runner and flee to Rio, I suppose. Alternatively we could set up a 'Save Private Evans' fund and save enough to help him rent a studio in Brighton?

Thankfully, George and Diane are putting him up tonight after he's been fed by St Peter's Church in London Road, a former 'Hi, Anglicans!' church now ran by those superclean evangelical Protestants. Apparently, he was turned away from a homeless hostel in Brighton after it was arranged by the Rough Sleepers Team. I was told that it was obvious Jason was 'on various substances' so the proprietor slammed the door in his face. I don't know whether Jason was or wasn't 'on various substances', all I do know is that everyone in that hostel is 'on various substances', so I can't understand why the proprietor, who does very nicely out of the homeless's housing benefits thank you very much, was too concerned. Every second person in his hostel is on smack!

While on the subject, I've been asked to write a piece on the diabolical voluntary sterilisation programme controversy caused by the presence of Project Prevent on UK soil by The Catholic Herald, which, assuming it will be printed, will be the first piece I've ever had published in a national. Woo-hoo! I've written it already, an exclusive interview with Diane Brennan of Brighton, but obviously the copyright belongs to The Catholic Herald, so you'll have to buy the only Catholic weekly that hasn't sold its soul to Cardinal Bugnini and that consistently outsells The Catholic Times, The Tablet and The Universe, in order to read it.

Brighton Early Music Festival

For Brightonians, the Brighton Early Music Festival is kicking off soon. The most attractive evening of music seems to be Victoria's Requiem on Wednesday 3rd November at the 'Hi Anglicans!' church that enjoys sacred music more than the idea of full communion with the Holy See, to which you can listen below.



Devil's Dyke

Today, I went to Devil's Dyke, where I obviously went around asking people, 'I can imagine selling your soul for the World, but for Sussex?' There are some truly stunning views and beautiful rolling hills.

There were no microgliders today but one family flying a kite. The pub is nice too. We tried going for a walk but the wind was too strong. So we went back to the pub.

Going by the legend that has brought the National Trust owned massive portion of land a proportion of local fame, the Devil dug a massive dyke, presumably because he was bored and had nothing better to do. From this high point, you can see Box Hill, Cissbury Ring, Chanctonbury Ring and the Isle of Wight on a clear day, though it has to be said, the Isle of Wight just looks like a low dark cloud.

If you look at the photograph, you will see that in the United Kingdom, at least, overpopulation is a myth. There's still loads of land on which people could live. Its just that 99.9% of them choose to live in Brighton, Lewes, Haywards Heath and other densly populated town centres, so keep that piece of information in mind for when the eco-fascists come round to tell you to stop breeding and sterilise you because you've got more than two kids.

Alec Guinness on TCM today!

Late notice I'm sure, for any potential readers, but tonight TCM is having a mini-marathon of Alec Guinness comedies.

8:00 PM - Kind Hearts and Coronets
10:00 - The Captain's Paradise
11:45 - Last Holiday
1:30 AM - The Horse's Mouth

This post is probably too late to be of use for anyone, but I thought I'd share for the sake of sharing. All are very good to great films that come highly recommended; heck, I'll probably check out one or two of 'em myself.

Them!

By far the best of the '50s "radiation-mutated monster" flicks, Them! (1954) is a pleasant childhood memory. AMC always showed this movie in a loop around Halloween and the ten year-old me gobbled it up, watching it every chance I got. I was pleasantly surprised to see that Them! holds up to adult viewing; more than goofy fun, it's a surprisingly smart and enjoyable sci-fi flick that stands among the genre's best.

New Mexico State Trooper Ben Peterson (James Whitmore) encounters a girl (Sandy Descher) wandering through the desert in a catatonic state. Things grow more alarming still when Peterson finds her family's trailer ransacked - and when his partner (Ed Blackburn) is killed by the same creature. Joined by FBI Agent Graham (James Arness) and entomologists Harold (Edmund Gwenn) and Pat Medford (Joan Weldon), Peterson investigates the crimes, only to find them caused by a colony of giant, irradiated ants! The authorities quickly annihilate the nest, but several queens manage to escape, taking off for parts unknown. Our heroes race against time to locate any potential nests, hoping to head off an apocalyptic threat - all while maintaining the strictest secrecy.

Them! deftly plays on the two biggest preoccupations of post-WWII science fiction: nuclear holocaust and Commie paranoia. The hideous effects of Hiroshima and Nagasaki and the onset of the Cold War terrified Americans with the dual threat of imminent destruction and insidious menace. The Japanese released Godzilla the same year as Them!, creating a cultural icon - and a slew of imitators. Other beasts, from humans (The Amazing Colossal Man) to grasshoppers (Beginning of the End) to, hand to God, a killer tree (From Hell it Came) were unleashed by radiation, each creature sillier than the last. Even the larger budgeted pictures like Tarantula and The Deadly Mantis are hokey and cartoonish. In this regard, the intelligence, craft and quality of Them! is a refreshing surprise.

Them! really belongs in a class of more sophisticated science fiction: The Day the Earth Stood Still, Invasion of the Body Snatchers, It Came From Outer Space. The film depicts a Cold Warrior's wet dream: a super-efficient government, with local authorities, G-men, soldiers and scientists cooperating seemlessly to eradicate an unstoppable threat. Secrets are ruthlessly kept - Fess Parker's amusing character is incarcerated for "knowing too much" - but our heroes are nonetheless concerned with the human cost: Medford refuses to gas the sewer system while two children are held "hostage" there (shades of Rio Grande?). The Communist analogy isn't especially apt - can you leak intelligence secrets to ants? - but then sci-fi is rarely concerned with literal interpretations.

There's plenty for the less pretentious filmgoer to enjoy in Them!, too. It plays more as a thriller than a horror film, with an atmospheric, creepy, noir-inspired opening: a catatonic girl wandering through the desert, the wrecked trailer, and the cop slain by an unseen monster strike a jarring note from the word go. The ants don't even appear until half-an-hour into the film, heralded only by eerie chirping noises; the story is just as concerned with its investigation and explanation of the ants as its scares and thrills. The movie embraces its serious tone, allowing its fantastical plot to feel grounded and frighteningly real: the science is silly but convincing enough, the ants aren't ridiculously large and can be killed by conventional firepower.

If the film weren't such a top-notch effort the serious tone might backfire, but veteran Gordon Douglas helms a superb production. Douglas makes excellent use of a respectable budget, creating a tense, richly-paced show. Douglas and photographer Sidney Hickox mix nice location shooting with gritty, and stage impressive subterranean action scenes in an ant's nest and LA's sewers. The film won a well-deserved Oscar nod for Special Effects: the Warners studio artists craft full-sized hydraulic model ants that beat the pants off the era's superimposition and stop-motion efforts. Bronislau Kaper's creepy score is also notable. The movie was heavily influential on later efforts: its plot structure and clearly inform Jaws, while the Alien films appropriate the scenes of soldiers combing through the ant's nest.

The excellent (if not A-list) cast is another pleasant surprise in a genre reliant on hams like John Agar and Peter Graves. James Whitmore (Battleground) is excellent, his Everyman cop an appealing and sympathetic protagonist. James Arness's (Hondo) stiff G-Man is more in-line with the genre's usual heroes. Edmund Gwenn (Foreign Correspondent) is amusingly eccentric and Joan Weldon more than holds her own. The supporting cast includes an interesting assortment of character actors, including Fess Parker (TV's Davy Crockett), Willis Bouchey (Sergeant Rutledge), Ann Doran (His Girl Friday), Dub Taylor (Bonnie and Clyde) and a pre-Star Trek Leonard Nimoy.

Them! proves, if nothing else, that a movie about giant, radiation-infused ants needn't be cheesy nonsense. It's both fun and thoughtful, a wonderful bit of vintage entertainment.

Paths of Glory

Stanley Kubrick's Paths of Glory (1957) is a fine anti-war film. Broad in its dramatics and overemphatic in its speechmaking, it succeeds in its primary goal, indicting the madness and futility of warfare.

Two years into the First World War, the French Army is stalemated and desperate for a breakthrough. Ambitious General Mireau (George Macready) is goaded by his commanding officer, General Broulard (Adolphe Menjou), into undertaking a suicidal attack on the German "anthill" with the promise of a promotion. The brunt of the offensive falls upon the 701st Regiment, led by Colonel Dax (Kirk Douglas). The attack fails disastrously, and General Mireau blames Dax's men for cowardice, choosing (with Broulard's consent) to execute three men (Ralph Meeker, Timothy Carey, Joe Terkel) as an "example" for the Army. Despite Dax's defense, the soldiers are convicted by a kangaroo court, and their only hope may be Dax's knowledge of Mireau's unbecoming conduct during the assault.

Working from Humphrey Cobb's novel, Paths of Glory is an angry film, a searing indictment of military incompetence. Kubrick and writers Jim Thompson and Calder Willingham create a powerful spectacle that transcends its somewhat hokey dramatics. It's a horrifying and unsettling film, with a decidedly unflattering of the French Army: Soldiers are callously thrown away like flies, with a choice between German bullets or friendly fire. Officers scheme for personal advancement, with backstabbing and pompous posturing second nature: Dax's vengeance on Mireau is perceived by Broulard as mere self-promotion! More ably than earlier films like Grand Illusion, Kubrick shows that crossing modern warfare, with indiscriminate, mechanized mass killing, and an engrained class system is a recipe for tragedy.

Unfortunately, the film repeatedly falls back on stilted dramatics and blustery speechifying. The soldiers are unambiguously innocent and their officers either ruthlessly ambitious or simple-minded fools. Kubrick doesn't spare us the most obvious tropes: the generals dine, dance and sip wine in a luxurious mansion while their soldiers sweat it out in filthy trenches. Dax's speeches are improbably emphatic and on the nose, and a tacky coda provides an additional jolt of sappy sentimentality. Bruce Beresford's Breaker Morant (1980) would cover the same ground in a much more ambiguous, less stilted manner. Beresford's Australian cavalrymen are victims of a dirty war with no clear moral boundaries; Kubrick's French soldiers are merely innocent pawns of a cruel system.

Kubrick's direction is brilliant. Made on a modest budget, Glory has the feel of a much more expensive film, and Kubrick's inventive use of German locations gives it the look of an epic, with its huge battlefield and oversized offices. Kubrick and photograph Georg Krause make repeated use of impressive tracking shots: through the trenches, an officer's ball, and most notably the attack on the Anthill, a gobsmacking, gritty spectacle that doesn't reach for grim effects. The movie retains a lean pace for the first half but sags a bit after the trial scenes; the powerfully-staged execution is counterbalanced by the lame finale. On the whole, though, the film is admirably economical and maintains a potent drive and dramatic force.

Kirk Douglas is perfectly cast as both upstanding liberal officer and avatar of righteous fury; this is definitely one of his signature roles. The rest of the cast is hit-and-miss. George Macready (Vera Cruz) and Adolphe Menjou (The Front Page) play over-the-top buffoons of the sort Kubrick would more successfully portray in Dr. Strangelove. Ralph Meeker (The Dirty Dozen), Timothy Carey (One-Eyed Jacks) and Joe Terkel (The Shining) give their all in rather one-dimensional parts. Kubrick's future wife, Christiane, is the German bar girl.

Paths of Glory certainly holds up as a potent anti-war message. For a more subtle and reflective film, I direct you again to Breaker Morant, but Kubrick's work is a fine - if flawed - effort.

Archbishop Raymond Burke...

Archbishop Raymond Burke is to be one of 24 new Cardinals

...has been made a Cardinal!

 Listen to this...

'Obedience to the magisterium and the demands of the natural moral law are not only important for salvation, but are especially required of Catholics if a culture of life is to be advanced in today’s world. Man is tempted to view the magisterium in relation to his individualism and self-pursuit.'

Of bishops:  "When shepherds of the flock are obedient to the magisterium entrusted to their exercise, then surely the numbers of the flock grow in obedience,” he said. “If the shepherd isn’t obedient, the flock easily gives way to confusion and error.” Quoting the Prophet Zechariah, he said the shepherd can be “especially tempted” by the assaults of Satan who, “if he can strike him, the work of scattering the flock is made easy...Where there are problems of chastity, there are problems of obedience.” Rebellion against the moral truth, Archbishop Burke noted, “is a rebellion against God and all that he teaches us.”

The archbishop also stressed that today’s culture “teaches us to believe what is convenient and to reject what is difficult for us or which challenges us,” thus leading to a “cafeteria Catholicism” which “picks and chooses which parts of faith to practice.” He noted how this happened even among some bishops when they dissented from Paul VI’s encyclical “Humanae Vitae.”

Did you get that? I think he just mentioned the words chastity, salvation, Humanae Vitae, error, Satan, obedience and magisterium in just three paragraphs. Gosh! All sounds a bit extreme to me! Anyone would have thought he was a Catholic Archbishop with zeal for souls or something. He sounds like just the kind of Cardinal The Tablet would absolutely love! Go on, stick him on the front cover, why not?! I'll bet Mgsr Basil Loftus is over the moon as well. Oh yes! The litigious prelate of the Church, I'm sure, would be the first to want to congratulate Cardinal Raymond! Look, here he is celebrating Solemn Pontifical High Mass in the Usus Antiquior at St Peter's...

Mid-Week Update

Some bits of news to catch up on:

- Two TV legends have passed away this week. Barbara Billingsley, June Cleaver from Leave it to Beaver and Tom Bosley, Mr. Cunningham from Happy Days. I have precious little experience with Leave it to Beaver, but I was a regular viewer of Happy Days for some time. Bosley and Marion Ross were (along with Henry Winkler) the show's foundation, keeping things together even in the dread days of Scott Baio and Ted McGinley (*Hank Hill shudder*). RIP to both.

- In happier news, Jeffrey M. Anderson of Moviefone penned a superlative tribute to John Wayne. Definitely worth a look.

- DVD Savant wrote a surprisingly scathing review of that renowned horror "classic," The Exorcist, which raised some hackles (and, in another Pittsburgh Yoohoo moment, received the support of many, including yours truly). His review convinced me to finally see the flick, which failed to impress me; I hope to review it soon, as I have many the same problems as the venerable Mr. Erickson.

- Budd Boetticher's excellent Western Ride Lonesome is on TCM at 8 tonight! I didn't get to review it after my first viewing, so stay tuned.

Child Protection

Social Services: "Hello. We've decided to take your child into care. We have to protect children because you're a drug addict/alcoholic/mentally ill person/too poor. Your newborn will be adopted to a wealthy, gay couple in Chelmsford. You'll only be able to have contact when she's 18."

Drug addict: "You evil bastards!"

In another part of the same town...

(Ring, ring)

Young lady: "Hello, is that the BPAS?"

BPAS: "Yes."

Young lady: "Hello. I'd like to kill my unborn child, please. I'm up the duff after some random shag and, anyway, it might have a foetal abnormality because I'm on medication for depression. I think the condom split."

BPAS: "Great, when do you want to come in?"

Brighton and Hove City Council Have Opened a Crack and Pushed Jason Evans Down It

You often hear a phrase when it comes to vulnerable adults, the poor and people that society consistently fails, gives up on or actually, wants to fail. It goes something like, "A lot of people fall through the cracks in society" or "Some people just slip through the safety net." Here we have a classic case in which Brighton and Hove City Council have opened up a crack and pushed a man down it.

I've just received a phone call from the office of Caroline Lucas MP for Brighton. Ms Lucas met Jason Evans, a friend of mine, recently. Having seen the video interview with Jason from over 3 weeks ago, she wanted to meet him and learn his story. He was honest with her and she was very receptive to him. Impressively (and I do believe this is genuine), she affirmed that she would do all she could within her power to house Jason as an emergency. Let's face it, she did not have to meet him in the first place, but she was quite shocked by my video interview with him. He might be 'trouble' in the eyes of the authoriries, but he is still a constituent. She seemed to warm to him.

I was then told more recently by the office of Caroline Lucas's Green Party, that Brighton and Hove City Council were 'waiting' on 'medical records' before housing Jason, to see whether or not they have a duty to house him. As far as I know, they have never done this before. Jason's vulnerable status is well-known to the authorities of Brighton and Hove. He has a record of mental health problems, a record of drug addiction and, yes, a record of 'anti-social behaviour' for street drinking and begging which runs until 2012.

Brighton and Hove City Council have consistently placed Jason in hostels in Brighton for a long time. So why, suddenly, the change of heart? Could it be that hostels have decided that Mr Evans is not 'welcome at the inn'? I know that he has got kicked out once or twice because he drinks. I received a call 20 minutes ago from the office of Caroline Lucas from an assistant who has told me that the Council have decided that, on the basis of Jason's 'medical records', the Council have no duty to house him, not even to place him in a hostel. Suddenly, very suddenly, Jason, who currently sleeps in my car in the absence of any State help, has been dropped by the authorities. I will not shut up about this. I will not stop until Jason Evans is famous in, at very least, Brighton.

There are a few reasons why this should be so. Firstly, although around 1,977 years may have elapsed since Our Blessed Lord taught during His Ministry on Earth, since He healed lepers and 'ate and drank with sinners' to the disgust of the self-righteous authorities of His time. Yet, what has changed? Nothing! Jason's ASBO has made him a prisoner in this town. If he could access the only nightshelter in Brighton, well, he couldn't because he's banned from that road. In a very real sense, Jason is a modern day 'leper', an outcast of society.

Since Jason Evans was released, nearly a month ago, he has had a shower or two. Where? My flat and the flat or another addict. He has had accommodation. Where? My car and at George and Diane's flat who have taken him in a few times. He has been fed. By who? George and Diane, me, other heroin addicts of the London Road and the churches, both Catholic and Protestant denominations of Brighton. The temperature is dropping day by day. Soon it will be very cold and Jason has now been informed that the Council have 'no duty' to house him. In fact, he has told me that the fact that he has no fixed address is, quite bizarrely, in itself, a breach of his probation licence, so that in fact he could be returned to jail for the crime of being homeless, when, in fact, he has done nothing than be released from jail only to find no help from the council in terms of accommodation.

I do not know how much pressure Caroline Lucas MP can put on the Council to house him. She will apparently put in a strong appeal for him. I have been told that she has a genuine concern for Jason. Ironically, even if Caroline Lucas wanted to put Jason up for a night, well, she couldn't, because he is banned from that road. If St Mary Magdalen's Church wanted to put Jason up for the night, well, the Priest couldn't because he's not allowed on that road. If Jason wanted to come to the Gregorian Chant workshop in Bognor Regis, well, he isn't allowed in Brighton Train Station. The main reason that I blog about Jason is that somehow, while he himself like all of us would admit he is 'no angel', somehow the Gospel of Our Lord Jesus Christ is contained within him.

We are called, as Catholics, to keep our Works of Mercy hidden, so that we may give glory to Our Father in Heaven. We should not let our right hand know what our left hand is doing. This, however, counts as an exception because while Jason is a very troubled 40-year-old man, with a heroin addiction and drinking problem, Brighton and Hove City Council are crucifying him, and Christ, mystically as well and they do have a duty to house him. What he needs is love, warmth, friendship, support, discipline, loyalty, care, a listening ear, compassion, spirituality, mercy and to be granted a measure of humanity and dignity that most of us just take for granted day in and day out. He finds it only in parishioners of St Mary Magdalen's, other Christians and other addicts and other people who understand addictions and homelessness. If there is one thing I have noticed with Jason it is that only the Poor take in the Poor.



Jason is, if nothing else, a fighter, but this is something of an emergency. This is the first time the Council have relinquished any responsibility towards him. Jason only every receives bad news. Nothing good ever happens for him or to him. Starved of love as a child and young man, he has always had to survive, alone. So, frankly, if you are a journalist and you are reading this, then, yes, I have got a homeless man sleeping in my car and if there are any national or local reporters out there who want to ask me and, more importantly, ask Jason Evans exactly why, then you, my friend, are most welcome to do so.

For Heaven's sake, the last time he was in prison it was for walking on the wrong side of the f***ing road! If you're a journalist and you don't think that's a news story then you're in the wrong job because it is just one small step from it being '1984' for him to 1984 for whoever is deemed to be 'anti-social'! Keith Richards starts blabbing about his excessive drugs use and the World bends its ear! Hey, Keith, you understand drug addiction! Maybe you could take Jason in for a while because, last I heard, you weren't in prison for your offenses. Let's face it, you've got enough rooms! If you are a recognised journalist and you inteviewed Jason Evans, you would be doing Christ Himself a favour, more of a favour than Brighton and Hove City Council will ever do for Him, because the Council has just condemned a poor, homeless man to poverty, homelessness and a life with no sanitation or accommodation as we begin to enter winter! Third World country, Cardinal Kasper?! Yes, indeed, but I can tell you now that you will find that in Africa, there is, at least, a degree of respect for the human dignity for its poor!

Please say prayers for Jason and send him, if you like, some messages of good will and support. I can assure you he will read them and be most grateful.

BBC Documentary on Sterilisation Programme in the UK

She's back! But then, did she ever go away?

I am greatly heartened that the dogma of scientific reductivism has not yet convinced the majority of the people in the United Kingdom and that most people recognise Nazism when they see it. Still, our beloved BBC has decided to 'open the debate' on the 'sterilisation of the unfit'. Oh, hang on, then again, commenters on the Telegraph article seem overwhelmingly in favour of it...

The BBC reports that...

'A BBC Inside Out special follows a highly controversial American charity that wants to pay drug addicts cash to be sterilised. Drug addicts across the UK are being offered money to be sterilised by an American charity.

Project Prevention is offering to pay £200 to any drug user in London, Glasgow, Bristol, Leicester and parts of Wales who agrees to be operated on. The first person in the UK to accept the cash is drug addict "John" from Leicester who says he "should never be a father". The move has been criticised by some drug charities who work with addicts.


Project Prevention founder Barbara Harris admitted her methods amounted to "bribery", but said it was the only way to stop babies being physically and mentally damaged by drugs during pregnancy. Drug treatment charity Addaction estimates one million children in the UK are living with parents who abuse drugs.

Pregnant addicts can pass on the dependency to the unborn child, leading to organ and brain damage. Mrs Harris set up her charity in North Carolina after adopting the children of a crack addict.


Speaking to the BBC's Inside Out programme, she said: "The birth mother of my children obviously dabbled in all drugs and alcohol - she literally had a baby every year for eight years. "I get very angry about the damage that drugs do to these children."

After paying 3,500 addicts across the United States not to have children, she is now visiting parts of the UK blighted by drugs to encourage users to undergo "long-term birth control" for cash.

John, a 38-year-old addict from Leicester, is the first person in the UK to accept money to have a vasectomy after being involved in drugs since he was 12. It might work in America but Great Britain is a very different country” He said: "It was something that I'd been thinking about for a long time. "I won't be able to support a kid; I can just about manage to support myself."

Simon Antrobus, chief executive of Addaction, said while no-one wanted to see children brought up in a drug-using environment, there was no place for Project Prevention in the UK. "It exploits very vulnerable people who are addicted to drugs and alcohol at probably the lowest point in their lives," he said.

The Reverend Robert Black, of Victory Outreach, which works with former addicts in east London, said he thought Project Prevention's aims were "very devious". Maria Cripps, project manager at the Hackney Dovetail Centre which works with drug users and their carers, said: "I think Barbara uses some very extreme examples to get her point across. It might work in America but Great Britain is a very different country."

But Reverend Martin Blakebrough, director of Camden's Kaleidoscope Project in north London, said sterilisation was "worth considering" if it was right for the individual. A spokesperson at the British Medical Association said: "The BMA's ethics committee does not have a view on the charity Project Prevention. As with all requests for treatment, doctors need to be confident that the individual has the capacity to make the specific decision at the time the decision is required. The BMA's ethics committee also believes that doctors should inform patients of the benefits of reversible contraception so that the patients have more reproductive choices in the future."

Sterilising The Addicts is on Inside Out London, East Midlands, West, and Wales on 18 October on BBC One at 1930 BST and in Scotland as BBC Scotland Investigates:

What is heartening  is the comments on the BBC 'debate' with the large majority of people condemning this 'charity' outright. Here are some that I like:

'What a government .. from 1984 to 1933 in 6 months.'

'Its a poor man's Eugenics. Sick thinking by any standard. The group should be prosecuted.'

'As a child of two former drug addicts I am disgusted by this 'charity' and the posts here supporting this scheme. Myself, brothers and sister are all productive members of society. I have never been in trouble with the police and I have no addiction issues. I am happily married and I have worked and paid taxes for almost twenty years serving this country, are you saying I shouldn't have existed? This is nothing short of eugenics, if we support this, where do you propose we draw the line? This isn't a stance from a moral high ground, this is my life you are debating here.'

'Does it include tobacco and alcohol addicts?'

'End your bloodline for £200 [Or a 2-day drug binge].'

'It's scandalous. What kind of Charity would hand money to a drug addict, KNOWING what it will be spent on? '

Of course, in a country in which abortion rates are still shockingly high, the United Kingdom is yet to truly throw off the yoke of industrial scale killing of the unwanted and inconvenient. I, for one, however, am thrilled that the hearts of our brothers and sisters in the United Kingdom have not grown so cold as to go along with this wicked plan. We fought a war against Hitler, we fought against this kind of insidious evil and Pope Benedict XVI commended us for it while he was here. Just as a thought, what do you think Richard Dawkins and Professor Steve Jones would make of this idea? I mean, they're the ones who are always worrying about the quality of the 'gene pool'. It strikes me that ideas such as this one espoused by the woman who's promoting it in the UK are the result of atheism's default position. In the absence of any belief in Redemption, this can appear wholly logical.

Ball of Fire

Another classic Howard Hawks comedy, Ball of Fire (1941) teams the great director with screenwriter Billy Wilder for a match made in heaven. It isn't a masterpiece like His Girl Friday, but it's a hilarious film in its own right, featuring one of Barbara Stanwyck's best performances.

Eight professors have been commissioned to write a volume of new encyclopedias, and settle in New York for research purposes. The youngest of the lot, Bertram Potts (Gary Cooper), is a linguist who's intrigued by a chance encounter with a gabby garbage man (Allen Jenkins). Realizing he and his colleagues are woefully ignorant of current slang, Potts goes into the city for research, meeting hot-to-trot singer Sugarpuss (Barbara Stanwyck) and enlisting her in his efforts. Sugarpuss and her hubby, gangster Joe Lilac (Dana Andrews), are on the lam, so Sugarpuss takes Bertram up on his offer and agrees to live in their quarters - much to the Professors' collective delight. Things are complicated, of course, when Bertram and Sugarpuss fall for each other, and when Joe and his goons come calling.

Ball of Fire recycles the plot and thematic concerns of Bringing Up Baby, with a dash of Pygmalion thrown in: the nebbish intellectual, absorbed in his studies and unknowing of the real world, who's brought down off his ivory tower by a feisty, sensual, strong-willed woman. This is either auteurism (if you believe Cahiers) or laziness, but it's pure Hawks either way. Wilder's influence is also obvious, most notably in the adorably bumptuous professors who serve as a Greek Chorus, not unlike the Russian diplomats in Ninochtka, the servants in Sabrina or the POWs in Stalag 17 - or the Seven Dwarves to Sugarpuss's Snow White. Along with Charles Brackett, Hawks and Wilder prove a perfect comedy team, their respective styles meshing brilliantly.

Auteurist concerns aside, Ball of Fire is hysterically funny, though it lacks the off-the-wall absurdity of Bringing Up Baby and machine-gun dialogue of His Girl Friday. The verities of the plot are nothing to get worked up over - think a basic romcom with gangsters thrown in - but Hawks and Wilder (and the cast) make it work. The "fish out of water" premise gets a lot of mileage but the film crackles with pointed wit, including surprisingly risque, barely-coded banter between Potts and Sugarpuss. Perhaps the film is better than Bringing Up Baby in the sense that the two lovers have to meet each other half-way rather than one fully "converting," and the lack of an obnoxiously-scatterbrained Katharine Hepburn doesn't hurt either.

Hawks's direction is superb. The movie makes impressive use of deep-focus and blocking by none other than Gregg Toland (Stagecoach, Citizen Kane), making it a handsome film to watch along with its verbal delights. The film is more slow-paced and deliberate than most Hawks films, but it's no less funny and doesn't lack for carefully-constructed set-pieces - our Professors's confrontation with Joe's goons is extremely clever and surprisingly suspenseful. Alfred Newman's delightful, jazzy score is also a highlight.

Gary Cooper does surprisingly well against type, his stiff and uptight persona making for an unexpectedly-effective (and funny) straight man. But it's Barbara Stanwyck's show all the way: as usual, she perfectly combines raw sensuality, a snappy wit and forceful personality with a hidden vulnerability, the Hawksian woman to a T. Dana Andrews (The Best Years of Our Lives) gets a thankless villain role, but the gaggle of haplessly naive Professors - Oskar Homolka (Mission to Moscow), Henry Travers (Shadow of a Doubt), S.Z. Sakall (Casablanca), Tully Marshall (Grand Hotel), Leonard Kinskey (Manhattan Melodrama), Richard Haydn (Young Frankenstein) and Aubrey Mather (For the Love of Rusty) - provide a hilarious running commentary.

So yeah, Ball of Fire is a treat. See it.

The Day Our Lady Stopped Traffic...

Yesterday was a quite breathtaking day all round for the Holy Faith. Fresh from the jubilation of faithful Chilean miners being released from the dark recesses of the Earth, so too the Bishop of Fulham and the congregation of St Peter's, Folkstone left a sinking ship to grab onto the life raft offered by the Holy Father to join the True Barque of Peter.

So, too, there was joy on the streets of London as over a thousand pilgrims prayed the Holy Rosary and sang hymns to the Great Mother of God on the Rosary Crusade of Reparation, from Westminster Cathedral to Brompton Oratory. I've posted a couple of clips for readers to get a taste of the atmosphere of the solemn, but profoundly joyful walk.

On the way there I was sat opposite a young man with Rosary beads on. He was listening to his I-pod or whatever all the way there, but all the way there I was gagging to ask him if he was going on the Crusade, but of course, it is more likely that they may have just been 'fashion' Rosary beads.  Someone had left a copy of The Guardian where I read that Tony Blair divulged in his memoirs how he and Cherie made love on the night when he decided to bomb Iraq. 'On the night of 12 May 1994', he writes, 'I needed that love Cherie gave me selfishly. I devoured it to give me strength...' which just conjoured up horrendous images in my mind of Mrs Blair saying, "Oh, give it to me, you mass murderer, you!"



I met Once I was a Clever Boy and All the Little Epsilons there and also saw familiar faces from the happy if combative wait to see Pope Benedict XVI arrive and leave at His Holiness's Westminster Hall speech, though no Protestant protestors, thank God. We were even promised that plenary indulgence on the conditions of Confession and reception of Holy Communion for which we campaigned while waiting for the Holy Father!



That the Mother of God rejoices at the prayers of her children in this vale of tears is undeniable, but when one reads stories like this one about social services involvement in the life of a Ugandan Catholic mother and her children, we realise how much we are not just in need of making reparation for our sins, but the sins of the whole World too, that wound her Immaculate Heart. It is truly shocking. If there is one thing (and we know that there is more than one thing) that cries out to Heaven for Vengeance, it is stories like this. Our Blessed Lady knows all about the heartbreak and agony of mother's who have their children ripped away from them by a band of the wicked. How much pity and sorrow she must feel for mothers who suffer like this! May those in the career of 'child protection' learn justice, mercy and the dignity of all those with whom they come in contact! The homeless woman actually asked Social Services for help! What did she get? Crucifixion! Vipers!