tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-42717801166096454952024-03-21T03:41:30.336-07:00Richard, You MUST try to be more focused -Richardhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10272507198753290435noreply@blogger.comBlogger14125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4271780116609645495.post-63737654613945583232022-07-17T01:08:00.028-07:002022-07-17T01:37:15.843-07:00Reviews and Comments and Ideas - the Infinite Project<p> Continuation of the Infinite Poem and Review of Tenure as a Statistician by J Alex West</p><p><br /></p><p>Because of the complex nature of The Infinite Project (at the moment I am working on a sub-project, my Dewey Decimal Project, allied to 'What You Are Reading' (parts of which were published in Brief when it was running well -- Brief magazine evolved from Alan Loney's excellent and interesting A Brief History of the Whole World -- but more anon. </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_dvl1RZMw_kFsnEuj4LM_yhzgG508zrZzBp4Ib13tI0FFhcRRYaXk0aD0pQwReAqdoxn_rGc_N8ZQPj3yrlc48le4gDiZZl0EgsLVpq9AWLvc5iecHQ4Apzt-xwD3pP0MPMYfBSQiwdX8A3ypP7l285nDJUfmidecb2HCdWVlohDnHeu0BGzeoq6JfQ/s1121/Book%20by%20James%20Alek%20West.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1121" data-original-width="727" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_dvl1RZMw_kFsnEuj4LM_yhzgG508zrZzBp4Ib13tI0FFhcRRYaXk0aD0pQwReAqdoxn_rGc_N8ZQPj3yrlc48le4gDiZZl0EgsLVpq9AWLvc5iecHQ4Apzt-xwD3pP0MPMYfBSQiwdX8A3ypP7l285nDJUfmidecb2HCdWVlohDnHeu0BGzeoq6JfQ/w260-h400/Book%20by%20James%20Alek%20West.jpg" width="260" /></a></div><br /><p>To kick things off -- I intend to do reviews, some of my own personal experiences, discussions of poetics, art and much else -- I have here the review I did of Alex West's first novel. Alex I 'met' online as I bought book sold by him on Trade Me. Subsequently we exchanged thoughts and ideas and in one of his first two non-fiction books (which are very good, I reviewed both on Good Reads), he included our correspondence. Did this work? I am not sure, reading my own things is strange. I preferred reading about one man's long struggle with alcoholism, various dramatic events in the Middle East, and a superb description of indigenous culture versus 'Western' in the Philippines, a strange gay poet druggy mystic, and the story of a man whose life-long passion was his weekly cricket. For a big part of me, shall we say, has a feeling for the 'people of the world', if parts of me are (philosophically, not temperamentally as I am mostly quite happy and upbeat if I am not ill). But even if I cant prove it, people matter and one of West's strengths is his compassion and interest in people. As he has moved around the world and read a lot his stories, from many angles, can be fascinating. As good as the best of C K Stead's non-fiction biographical stories (which can indeed be quite fascinating) or those of the late Michael King. West is a new writer so his first novel has 'faults'. This is to be expected. Here is my review:</p><p> <span style="font-size: large;"> <u><span style="color: #ff00fe;">Review of <i>Tenure of a Statistician</i> by J Alex West.</span></u></span></p><p><i> Tenure as a Statistician</i> is J. Alex West's first novel and it is great for a first novel. It has problems, but many of the 'great' writers don't do well with their first novel. West has written non-fiction stories many of which are excellent (see his other books). 'Tenure...' is set in a working class town north of Auckland and there several (about 6) significant characters emerge. West's technique is to give each a narrative in which they 'talk'. It alternates between them. This gives a sense of multiple 'voices'. Crikle, who will become central to the novel due to the challenges he faces from a difficult home life, some incapacities, and his love and yearning for the beautiful part-Maori girl next door. Crikle's voice starts the book: 'I was good for nothing...' and for some reason he was good at statistical maths and not any other. (He, in some ways tries to organize the world, and his poetry reflects this.) He has parents and sometimes peers who see him as strange. He is perhaps the main 'outsider'. That the people of this NZ town have problems, that the part Maori girl Rose (who Crikle is in love with throughout the novel and she feels things for him but more anon) -- is clever but has a brother and father making money from illegal drugs (while not being that 'bad') and while Jede who turns up from the US as a kind of exchange student, has problems (although he is more 'manly' and perhaps more 'sophisticated' than Crikle), and that the parents including Crikle's mother and others around are full of either prejudices, or personality problems and so on, that all is not well even in NZ is not surprising. In fact the social and problems of poverty and violence rates and much else are analogous throughout the world. (And these human and political social issues, and problems of development and love are some of West's main themes I feel.) </p><p>So the characters ring true. Soon an American, Jason Denton, arrives. He is full of positivity. He is ambiguous. Crikle thinks he has sex with Rose and this torments him. Denton is ambiguous (as the novel proceeds the characters attain more complexity which is good). Denton organizes and inspires and Crikle and the others go for his 'Couch' travel system. The idea is to facilitate cheap travel while young men and women can connect. It works pretty well. Later Jede is disillusioned when Jason and Rose, who become partners and eventually get married, move to a more commercial aspect. Just as in NZ Trade Me began as quite a brilliant thing and sold out and now it has shifted to a more crass commercial thing, something similar has also occurred overall in modern computer tech, the internet etc. </p><p>The players in this novel are all growing up as the internet and all its positives and negatives evolve also. </p><p>The book is quite absorbing and insightful, as it is clear West has himself travelled extensively. Crikle and Jede (the American who he feels he is more enlightened than Jason (who, it is not clear, is not as awful as Jede supposes) are perhaps the two who are most challenged with difficulties. Rose has hers, her neighbours are somewhat racist, but she is bright and leaves the place for education and does well (as she sees it). But Crikle is not good at anything. Jede gets back to the US at one stage and finds his father doesn't want to know him and his mother is with a slightly zany evangelical Christian. He has been in Africa and workers there as well as local people are murdered. The Christian mother and her friend blame it on his lack of Christian belief. Jede's rejection of his father is understandable but something more complex needed to take place at his mother's. </p><p> In Africa both Jede and Crikle get 'off-side' with what they see as superficial UN workers...but soon there is an attack and the young woman Jede insults is killed. It is here, as in other parts that I feel that West could have imagined some kind of heroic action by Crikle and Jede (I know this sounds a bit naïve) and they might rescue her, and then a kind of reconciliation might have taken place. All might not have been 'solved' but here a possibility of a war, an attack by bandits might have been a chance for something positive to develop (and a stronger, clearer, perhaps more absorbing, narrative thread). </p><p>Jede might have become wiser. Crikle never seems to make it, although he reads a long and quite amazing poem (a kind of world history). Long poems don't work at poetry readings, as a poet this is something I know about, but the imagined reading and meeting is well imagined. </p><p>Before this, in Central South America, Jede, Crikle, Rose and the entrepreneurial Jason run into a situation that is complex and full of, indeed more complexity. Crikle mainly observes, but Jede, seeing how Jason Rose and others ignore the indigenous locals and other poorer people, see a hypocrisy. But West makes Jede more complex. In a fight with a German traveller who is all for peace and light, neither really gets the upper hand. Jede is aware and tries to connect with local woman but this is turned against him. Jede's decline lead and the events in the Cent. American country, are brilliantly portrayed. Crikle and Jede struggle for some ideals. Crikle tries to educate himself. This is a positive. </p><p>The novel is long and complex, but quite readable. Once I got into this book I found it somewhat addictive and quite wanted to read it. And there is some hard hitting and dramatic scenes which, as well as some complexities, are well described. We sometimes see some plausibly raw and or depraved characters. But it is around here that West shows a real ability to write and to betray corruption, violence, sex, but also, somewhat love, hypocrisy and danger. And some of the deep inequalities between the poorer nations. Also we see human strengths and weaknesses. </p><p>If the book has faults (while characters are drawn well in many cases, there sometimes seems to be too many almost clichéd 'typing' of people, and realistic as the book is (although there are comic elements)), it sometimes seems too relentlessly so. I wanted, perhaps naively, some more hope, more rays of light. But West is still also pretty 'true' to life. But this is a novel, not a sociological-political analysis, and indeed a writer has to present the situations so that his characters can enact the world, and by and large West does that. </p><p>The book starts and ends well I feel. Many books fail to do that, even some books I think are 'great'. Of course there is more than just a beginning and an end. Crikle heads from NZ, around the world, and back to NZ. Here he finds his home-town is not much improved, his family (especially his father) still unsupportive. Crikle in a kind of crazy reaction to some publishers who don't even look at his poetry he submitted to them -- heads north to Auckland's 'Great Barrier Island' where he meets and has a meal with Rose's father Ru'a (Crikle has recently had a struggle with his own father who is right wing, racist etc and generally nasty...and in that we at least see he has, in some ways, 'grown'). Ru'a receives a letter from his daughter, telling him that she and Jason have sold their (once enlightened 'travel' business) for a large sum, and Rose invites him to live with them. But Ru'a is politically aware, and has a kind of pride and dignity that transcends much. Many would go for the cash, he thus rejects, in his way, Capitalism etc for Maoritanga, or for the people over the System...The connection between Crikle and the Maori Ru'a, grows strong. This ending is powerful and inspiring. </p><p>I have left out a lot. West's novel is always quite vivid, and as I say pulls the writer in (in some ways it reminds me of TOA by Vaughan Rapatahana, which I reviewed in a lit. mag. as well as his novel called NOVEL)....both West and Rapatahana are politicized. Rapatahana uses satire and in NOVEL creates an uprising in NZ and in parts of South China: and in NZ the revolutionaries are winning! TOA is more subtle and Rapatahana involves allusion to 'Once Were Warriors' and C K Stead's 'Smith's Dream'. And there is something of this political and social complexity (which all good novels should have) in both these writers. West is as yet not so well known. But I think his book is definitely worth reading. I think he will write some great novels. He has the capacity. </p><p> Read this book. Undoubtedly you will disagree or you may on some points but I think West has potential as one of NZ's most interesting writers of the 'strange-real' if I can invent a term for his writing. Certainly there is work to be done, as a novel longer than 200 pages is a difficult challenge, but considering everything, West is challenging us. All is not right with the world as we all know, and he doesn't flinch from describing it. But there is some hope. Not perhaps a naïve optimism, but a good optimism. Ru'a defies money for his simple and independent life. We think that Crikle may yet write more poetry and do well, and perhaps find love. For his main love, Rose, has eluded him. And there is sadness in this novel but, as I say, some promise of something better to come.</p><p><br /></p>Richardhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10272507198753290435noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4271780116609645495.post-86034232456923302862022-03-28T03:52:00.022-07:002022-08-08T01:18:59.608-07:00BANABA POST <p><i> <span style="font-size: small;">Childhood on a tropical island was a delightful time – there are only odd flashes of memory of the very young years. I played in the beach behind the house – we (other children & I) hunted for lizard eggs. The lizards seemed to choose the curled mid point of dead palm leaves which litter the ground under the palms.</span></i></p><p style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</p><p style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><u><span style="font-size: large;"> <span style="color: #f1c232;"> <span style="background-color: #674ea7;"> BANABA
& KIRIBATI & FIJI & PASIFIKA</span></span></span></u></p>
<p style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</p>
<p align="JUSTIFY" style="break-before: auto; margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 1.32cm; margin-right: 1.46cm; page-break-before: auto;">Post Update and Note: This Post will concern a statement of intent
as to my proceeding in this 'Control Blog'. Here I want to continue
general issues that are a part of the Infinite Project.</p>
<p align="JUSTIFY" style="break-before: auto; margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 0.64cm; margin-right: 0.54cm; page-break-before: auto;"><b>The Philosophy and other aspects of the Infinite Project </b>I
will augment elsewhere. I know to many much of, if not all these
'technicalities,' are not of much interest. However, dull as they may
seem they include the core of what is being done here. Nevertheless
I feel the need to provide 'content'. I want to first of all to
include some reviews. I will alternate reviews with comments and
images which will include my interest in Banaba and by extension the
importance of Pasifika in general.
</p>
<p align="JUSTIFY" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 0.64cm; margin-right: 0.54cm;"><span style="text-align: left;">I know this topic is 'fashionable' but this is not how I work. I have
personal connexions via my mother and family and my grandparents. My
interests include virtually all things, all history.</span></p>
<p align="JUSTIFY" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 0.64cm; margin-right: 0.54cm;"><span style="text-align: left;"> </span><span style="text-align: left;"> </span><span style="text-align: left;"> </span><span style="text-align: left;"> </span><span style="text-align: left;"> </span><span style="text-align: left;"> </span><span style="text-align: left;"> </span><span style="text-align: left;"> </span><span style="text-align: left;"> </span><span style="text-align: left;"> </span><span style="text-align: left;"> </span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBeUTLuo5G_P0w1Nz1llRX2lTjzbw6dVwDDxxHYPxcfk-_mA1GJYH-AWExAj8zjtZklRSKcAgrQ3ruY1XJn7fLXfjQhCza9fD78xsqAVgUzp3vj6G2osm3l3fprOH9TymdglQwBtrLAaLllevgMEfzz7gJObMee589bynflNci0cFlefiWs6f7MKWlKw/s2223/028b).jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2223" data-original-width="1522" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBeUTLuo5G_P0w1Nz1llRX2lTjzbw6dVwDDxxHYPxcfk-_mA1GJYH-AWExAj8zjtZklRSKcAgrQ3ruY1XJn7fLXfjQhCza9fD78xsqAVgUzp3vj6G2osm3l3fprOH9TymdglQwBtrLAaLllevgMEfzz7gJObMee589bynflNci0cFlefiWs6f7MKWlKw/w274-h400/028b).jpg" width="274" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">This is titled: "A Banaban of the old school".</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZo2s9o5xmOLBuMtAuoDGX94UcOi65HVmr_sTBwFtlldNf-JqNHIwF7eg5T7cNluktVjWm_mUgP1rlilBlpujBvwGCf16OgGxjaHclw1MrQE11h460o6xLoOBWKGAj97X_nTYdZtJjmfdgF3eg_W51bAxtzhuc2pUnFbIbbuzLGdtZJb_7RJtLvmD15g/s2014/027d).jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2014" data-original-width="1450" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZo2s9o5xmOLBuMtAuoDGX94UcOi65HVmr_sTBwFtlldNf-JqNHIwF7eg5T7cNluktVjWm_mUgP1rlilBlpujBvwGCf16OgGxjaHclw1MrQE11h460o6xLoOBWKGAj97X_nTYdZtJjmfdgF3eg_W51bAxtzhuc2pUnFbIbbuzLGdtZJb_7RJtLvmD15g/w461-h640/027d).jpg" width="461" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Ellis's book. It is informative, or adds to</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">the story. Ellis was typical of those wanting</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">to 'make their fortunes'. His business which became</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">the Phosphate Commission intersected with not</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">only the Miller but the Taylor family, and of course</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">the lives of many others. What is now known of the</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">rights and wrongs of history was not then thought of.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">As a child I heard much of 'Ocean Island'. That derived from the name of a ship that "discovered" Banaba, which was called 'Ocean'. (Wikipedia). It wasn't the first European ship, and of course not the first at all. Obviously Pacific people had found it many years before. In fact we know from <i>Vikings of the Sunrise</i>' by Te Rangi Hiroa (Sir Peter Buck), and other literature old and newer (<i>Ancient Voyagers of the Pacific</i> by Peter Sharp to <i>We Are all Ocean</i> by Epeli Hau'Ofa that the People who first peopled the Pacific Islands were superb seafarers. These are some of my collection of books I have on this area at hand. My grandfather J R Miller (Jack as he was known), had a number of books including a dictionary of Gilbertese. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">But what of Banaba, Ocean Island as it is referred to if at all (in a brief look at my relatively small collection it is not mentoned much. Wikipedia has a good entry and Stacey King and her late husband who was Banaban, It was inhabited in the late 19th Century, as well as by Banaban people, European 'beachcombers' and possibly criminal elements or 'drifters' or adventurers. Banaba is smaller than Nauru which it is similar to and not too far from. Both Islands were exploited for their rich deposits of guanaco which meant that super-phosphate fertilizer could be made and was used on NZ, Australian and other nations' farms to enhance productivity. This book came out in 1935, the photo is by W. H. Evans. </div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2p_W48-SbWOlCdDXAnVttVB53BFZQa0syNtVOuw1AEhFpDJSwiIXOugu6KdIqqAPYXXD415QGMSSxFoyRAj375YUBJDR4RM2q1opAFUCTCD3yrba1oY74xyiDs5_I9ahMYaDM5kQVAYaAReRgDp9vDv18h5prYJtdBixR43vVZwY01POg9vcrvWhh5A/s1343/027c).jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1343" data-original-width="1049" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2p_W48-SbWOlCdDXAnVttVB53BFZQa0syNtVOuw1AEhFpDJSwiIXOugu6KdIqqAPYXXD415QGMSSxFoyRAj375YUBJDR4RM2q1opAFUCTCD3yrba1oY74xyiDs5_I9ahMYaDM5kQVAYaAReRgDp9vDv18h5prYJtdBixR43vVZwY01POg9vcrvWhh5A/w313-h400/027c).jpg" width="313" /></a></div><br /><p align="JUSTIFY" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 0.64cm; margin-right: 0.54cm;"><br /></p>
<p align="JUSTIFY" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 0.64cm; margin-right: 0.54cm;"><br /></p><p align="JUSTIFY" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 0.64cm; margin-right: 0.54cm;">This is titled: 'Nei Tenemakin. the "Old Queen" </p><p align="JUSTIFY" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 0.64cm; margin-right: 0.54cm;">of Banaba. </p><p align="JUSTIFY" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 0.64cm; margin-right: 0.54cm;"><br /></p><p align="JUSTIFY" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 0.64cm; margin-right: 0.54cm;"><br /></p><p align="JUSTIFY" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 0.64cm; margin-right: 0.54cm;"><br /></p><p align="JUSTIFY" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 0.64cm; margin-right: 0.54cm;"><br /></p><p align="JUSTIFY" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 0.64cm; margin-right: 0.54cm;"><br /></p><p align="JUSTIFY" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 0.64cm; margin-right: 0.54cm;"><br /></p><p align="JUSTIFY" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 0.64cm; margin-right: 0.54cm;"><br /></p><p align="JUSTIFY" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 0.64cm; margin-right: 0.54cm;"><br /></p><p align="JUSTIFY" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 0.64cm; margin-right: 0.54cm;">Here is a link to a shortish video by the scholar Katerina Teaiwa who has put on the exhibition of the history of Banaba etc <a href="https://www.bing.com/videos/search?q=Banaba+-+Ocean+Island&docid=608016298252582905&mid=8867BC1CC45E5CC463718867BC1CC45E5CC46371&view=detail&FORM=VIRE" style="text-align: left;">Paradise Lost - Bing video</a></p><p align="JUSTIFY" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 0.64cm; margin-right: 0.54cm;"><br /></p><p align="JUSTIFY" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 0.64cm; margin-right: 0.54cm;">
This will be explained later (some has already) but first I need to
show some images. Rather than pre-writing a long spiel then adding
images I will do that piece by piece. So now I will load this or
similar and then add images of Banaba. These images I will add I hope
will be of value to Banaban people and others. (In particular my
family and my cousins in Australia, the daughters of Frank Miller and
perhaps their descendants). In particular I will see if I can get
them to Stacey King who runs the Banaba site. I will give links.
There is quite a lot written on Banaba, but I will add some more
information. I have a tendency to write too much so I will try to be
less wordy in this post.
</p>
<p align="JUSTIFY" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 0.64cm; margin-right: 0.54cm;"><span style="text-align: left;">The photographs were taken by my grandfather Captain Robert Miller.* He emigrated from England to New Zealand in about 1906 and then went
to Australia, then found out about the Phosphate Commission (this was
a NZ, Australian and British Company that exploited Nauru and Banaba.
The story is told partly by Albert Ellis in Ocean Island and Nauru -
Their Story (Angus & Robertson, Australia 1935. This book tells
of his starting the exploitation of phosphate (guanaco) which was
used in fertilizer by the Phosphate Commissions of Britain,
Australia, and NZ. My grandfather knew Ellis. It is true that over
time the net result of the British, NZ and Australian mining on
Banaba did destroy that place. But like the decline of Rome it took
place 'imperceptibly'. Most of those involved did not see this total
process.</span></p>
<p align="JUSTIFY" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 0.64cm; margin-right: 0.54cm;"> *Actually he was made a temp. Captain. During WWI he fought in Egypt, was wounded then later in Europe where he was hit in the leg by 'machine gun bullets'. This is a brief summary of the NZ Army report which is much longer. I should type it up and add it to the file of the Taylor-Millers. I think my grandfather was given leave around then. My mother was born in 1917. A letter from my grandmother refers to this 'lousy war' which is coincidentally the words my father used in the letters. He was not in action though but was re-drawing things for the CAC (the Colonial Ammunition Company) which was moved during the war to Hamilton. But this is an aside as he is, of course, not related to the Millers except by marraige.</p>
<p align="JUSTIFY" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 0.64cm; margin-right: 0.54cm;">
Some of these photographs may have been used already, but I am not
sure all. There is another album which I had overlooked so there are
other images I will add.
</p>
<p align="JUSTIFY" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 0.64cm; margin-right: 0.54cm;">
<br />
</p>
<p align="JUSTIFY" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 0.64cm; margin-right: 0.54cm;">
<br />
</p>
<p align="JUSTIFY" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 0.64cm; margin-right: 0.54cm;">
The entire process led to, once the Banabans had been forced off
their Island, to the loss of their land and language. They are now
mostly on Rabi. There Stacey King, who married a Banaban, and lives
in Australia, keeps up to date with events to do with Banaba and not
just the past but the future.
</p>
<p align="JUSTIFY" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 0.64cm; margin-right: 0.54cm;">
<span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> More Images from Ellis's book.</span><br />
</p><p align="JUSTIFY" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 0.64cm; margin-right: 0.54cm;"> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEisamprsCHK3I6rIsRGTCfbvI4rZqccEmsKZfbLp-ZEgPbbq1xG9GaMxvQJvft6jF8KhVr30697fVzbCJveQrx0uvB_XGzFUoVhMS31h5sZp53JhQI6J7F3J4dXa9ZxrmiZb2a-1Y08aFrl-sokDZjrFIpQij15uaMzHXkufKvQia9Kf7IwRH9rJoxhDQ/s1069/033b).jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="855" data-original-width="1069" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEisamprsCHK3I6rIsRGTCfbvI4rZqccEmsKZfbLp-ZEgPbbq1xG9GaMxvQJvft6jF8KhVr30697fVzbCJveQrx0uvB_XGzFUoVhMS31h5sZp53JhQI6J7F3J4dXa9ZxrmiZb2a-1Y08aFrl-sokDZjrFIpQij15uaMzHXkufKvQia9Kf7IwRH9rJoxhDQ/w400-h320/033b).jpg" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_xhfkKFwZkEtVq99gWhMh0ZOpa_3ZXuzPQ2Y7ErLf8EzY-hIaCtHE82imUKZFjnvoCWjacjP1iuyidDUssmM71XKMctGSAdTwcg8Y5BDcleTZEyOut6E7j893OdkNj7kLEWIaxpR3ciaoVFE3qRc5uYETtfJDKjga7lrsvoyPrUbO_3g7rLWIUNbfBA/s638/029c).jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="638" data-original-width="466" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_xhfkKFwZkEtVq99gWhMh0ZOpa_3ZXuzPQ2Y7ErLf8EzY-hIaCtHE82imUKZFjnvoCWjacjP1iuyidDUssmM71XKMctGSAdTwcg8Y5BDcleTZEyOut6E7j893OdkNj7kLEWIaxpR3ciaoVFE3qRc5uYETtfJDKjga7lrsvoyPrUbO_3g7rLWIUNbfBA/s320/029c).jpg" width="234" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">My Grandfather's book inscribed by J R Miller, then by my mother possibly after 'Jack's death in 1975 at the age of 92. My sister pointed out the differences in writing which I noticed also then forgot, or was</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">confused thinking again that it was a gift from him. Bu I recall my grandfather had a lot of books. He had a book called 'The Titan' that fascinated me, and Dr. Zhivago, but he also was interested in things such as the books of Velikovsky (my father told me re this after his death). As well as a range of books on the Pacific I a as a teenager loved reading Thor Heyerdahl. His theories have been discredited but his books are fascinating. Writers such as the academic Campbell and so on are great and my friend Scott Hamilton is very informed but there is room for all kinds of fascinating permutations in the vast Pacific.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3ERqyWVEJ0pt_kmSWSUj2e2IHtz3f0W0HqgkCUhRpqu8Vf4Ktnzdb889KaX-sH7Wl6pWXmDYDp6M-aaLvXdUId8ghdkP2hieo5SwykelDBENwFrqJK0TSItitG-ZNYPpOgCnHVm-ityEA0riMntCReDNsc1TbLLTJCOofuHWCKNq4lkahLtpT3DbCPg/s1898/031b).jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1898" data-original-width="1298" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3ERqyWVEJ0pt_kmSWSUj2e2IHtz3f0W0HqgkCUhRpqu8Vf4Ktnzdb889KaX-sH7Wl6pWXmDYDp6M-aaLvXdUId8ghdkP2hieo5SwykelDBENwFrqJK0TSItitG-ZNYPpOgCnHVm-ityEA0riMntCReDNsc1TbLLTJCOofuHWCKNq4lkahLtpT3DbCPg/w438-h640/031b).jpg" width="438" /></a></div><p align="JUSTIFY" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 0.64cm; margin-right: 0.54cm;"><br /></p>A map of the area of the Pacific where Banaba lies. It is now in the Kiribati group but the Banabans were forced in the 70s to leave for Rabi Island in Fiji. Despite a massive legal suit in the 70s, possibly the longest such in British legal history, the Judge, who stopped the case to travel to Banaba, could not find a figure of sum of payment to recompense the Banabans for the loss of their homeland. All the villages that my mother knew were destroyed in the "lust for phosphate gold".... But this story of colonial greed and expansion is as old as the Greeks and happened all over the Pacific with the help of many nations such as Britain, France, the US, Germany, Holland, New Zealand, Australia and others. Britain, the US, France and Australia used either Australia or various Islands to test nuclear weapons. In Vltchek's book (below), a graphic picture is shown. However, not all is bad news, a lot is, but there are other good books about the Pacific region. Scott Hamilton has written a lot on his Blog and in books on Tonga and Oceania in general. In Tonga Futa Helu founded an alternative university and through it or via it have come some fascinating developments. Hamilton has written on the history of Tonga and also of the writers and artists (his <i>Letters to Sio</i> is to the Artist Vessesio Siasau, who has won awards for his fascinating art). There are many younger students from Banaba who are engaged in studies of various kinds. And the "ordinary" people of Oceania are also the interest of Scott and other writers, as it is 'the people' who count (given some individual examples such as that of Albert Wendt the NZ-Samoan writer who humorously and cleverly critiques post-Colonialism and absurdity of Palangi and his own people in his great stories and books. As above, Epeli Hau' Ofa also wrote, as well as witty stories a bit like Wendt's, a book of essays and ideas <i>We Are the Ocean. Hau' Ofa </i>was a legendary satiric writer and a great philosopher of the region. <p></p><p align="JUSTIFY" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 0.64cm; margin-right: 0.54cm;"><span style="text-align: left;">Ellis doesn't fit a naive picture of a "bad" colonist.
Colonization which is currently blamed for every thing bad about the
Pacific (a lot of destruction of the way of life of the Pacific has
taken place, but people throughout the world have colonised places
for thousands of years -- recently I read a poetry book by a part Polynesian writer accusing Captain Cook (one of the greatest
explorers and sea Captains ever) to be someone terrible. As if he,
and more to the point -- the writer missed this -- the aristocratic
Banks who got on very well with local natives in the first expedition
which he organized and financed -- all of this is written about
brilliantly in Richard Holmes book </span><i style="text-align: left;">The Age of Wonder. </i><span style="text-align: left;">This book for example connects the Shelley of the angry, radical poem </span><i style="text-align: left;">The Mask of Anarchy </i><span style="text-align: left;">re a massacre which took place in England against working class people wanting more democratic freedoms and protesting at Peterborough, Manchester c. 1918, as well as Coleridge, scientists and scientist poets, Coleridge the philosopher turning from Idealism to Romanticism but always interested in the new science and Davey who wrote poems as well as invent the safety lamp. It is worth a read also.</span></p>
<p align="JUSTIFY" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 0.64cm; margin-right: 0.54cm;"><span style="text-align: left;">It is true that this field is new for me, but I read and continue,
time permitting to read as much as I can re this and related issues.
How I got to this per se is seen in my last Blog post but later I
will go into it in more detail. It began with my search among my
parents photographs and things for some letters sent by my father. He
had written to my mother during the war, before they got married.
Rarely did my father say emotional things directly to me but this isn't the whole story as</span></p><p align="JUSTIFY" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 0.64cm; margin-right: 0.54cm;"><span style="text-align: left;">we children were loved and lived well. We had a great upbringing in a great place. All was good as Marcus Aurelius says of all his relatives and influencers. My father had a good job and we kids played in the very street, in Panmure, and house, I live in now. The origins of my own father are obscure. I cannot find any connection. Theories differ from being simply English, and the English are various. My grandfather's name was Samuel Aaron, this was later changed to Taylor (but perhaps the record is wrong? Perhaps my father's appearance and etc meant some Celtic or other origin, or he was Jewish in origin, but we are all ultimately human and England was his homeland). Do these origins matter? A part of me, trained in biology etc, sees us all as simply descendants from the Big Bang and we then descended via semi-random evolution etc etc. Sometimes it is good though, to have a mystery of some sort.... </span></p>
<p align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 0.64cm; margin-right: 0.54cm;"><span style="text-align: left;">There is more to be said about this. Indirectly it links to Banaba.
Of interest also was this book:</span></p>
<p align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 0.64cm; margin-right: 0.54cm;">
<br />
</p>
<p align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 0.64cm; margin-right: 0.54cm;">
<span style="color: red;"><i><b>Oceania, Neocolonialism, Nukes and Bones</b></i><i> </i>by
Andre Vltchek,</span><i> </i>with a forward by Noam Chomsky. I read this and
another book about the history of the Pacific and spent time reading
my parents', my mother's, and my uncles's letters (he, Frank Miller
was born on Banaba --which my mother always called Ocean Island*</p><p align="JUSTIFY" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 0.64cm; margin-right: 0.54cm;"><span style="font-style: normal;">I'm not sure if this video continues in the one above so here is a link. Katerina Teaiwa talks of her book </span><i>Consuming Banaba</i>. Why is phosphate important? Phosphates are in human bones but also in the energy systems of virtually all living things and in nucleotides. In soil they aid in fertilizing the land and increasing agricultural production. This is as important as say nitrogen fixation or the addition of nitrates. Clover, does this, but so does the Haber process (developed by a German Chemist). But what can be a good thing can be overused or misused. A lot of this is unnecessary, nowadays, as there are alternatives. </p><p align="JUSTIFY" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 0.64cm; margin-right: 0.54cm;">Teaiwa is aware of these things. These videos, and I have seen various and a lot, are sobering. It gives on pause. What, we humans -- are we? </p><p align="JUSTIFY" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 0.64cm; margin-right: 0.54cm;"><br /></p><p align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 0.64cm; margin-right: 0.54cm;"> <a href="https://www.bing.com/videos/search?q=Banaba+-+Ocean+Island&&view=detail&mid=A526B7E93530BDEC926AA526B7E93530BDEC926A&rvsmid=8867BC1CC45E5CC463718867BC1CC45E5CC46371&FORM=VDQVAP" style="text-align: left;">Consuming Ocean Island - Bing video</a><span style="text-align: left;"> </span></p>
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<br />
</p>
<p align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 0.64cm; margin-right: 0.54cm;">
Currently there is an exhibition called <b>Project Banaba</b>,
organised by Katerina Teaiwa. Here is the advert for it in Canvas (a
small mag. associated with the NZ Herald, it is quite good and
appears on Saturdays):
</p>
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<br />
</p>
<p align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 0.64cm; margin-right: 0.54cm;">
<b><span style="color: #ff00fe;">Katerina Teaiwa at Te Uru</span></b></p>
<p align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 0.64cm; margin-right: 0.54cm;">
<br />
</p>
<p align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 0.64cm; margin-right: 0.54cm;">
<b>Opening today at Te Uru is Katerina Teaiwa's exhibition </b><i><b>Project
Banaba: The untold mining history of Banaba Ocean Island.</b></i>
Teaiwa is a Banaban scholar and artist and this multimedia
installation commemorates the history of Banaba (Ocean Island), which
was destroyed by phosphate mining that resulted in the entire
population being relocated in 1945. Complementing Teaiwa'js work is
<i>Te Kaneati, </i>a community-led exhibition celebrating Tamaki
Makaurau's thriving Banaban community, If you're not aware of this
devastating story of humanity's ability to destroy things that don't
belong to it, or the beautiful tale of the reslience of the Banaban
people, then take a trip to Te Urua and find out.
</p>
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<br />
</p>
<p align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 0.64cm; margin-right: 0.54cm;">
Today [Saturday, March the 5th, 2022] until May 29, 10am-4.30pm. Te
Uru, 420 Titirangi Rd, Titirangi.
</p>
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<br />
</p>
<p align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 0.64cm; margin-right: 0.54cm;">
Coincidentally May the 29th of May was or is my mother's birthday.
She died in 1998. She was born in 1917 in England and soon
accompanied her parents from England (my maternal relatives lived
around Bedford and later in Northamptonshire) to Banaba where my
mother lived as a child. Her brother Frank was born there in 1921.
They all went to England about 1922 or 23 or so. I can check these
details, but the gist is she stayed and was a pupil eventually of
Firbank. She had loved Banaba it was a shock to have to go to school.
My uncle stayed in England, was in the RAF in WWII, then became an
architect and moved to Port Moresby in Papua New Guinea and then
settled in England. My mother finished her schooling in Australia,
going on 'breaks' to Banaba where my grandparents lived until they
eventually moved to NZ.
</p>
<p align="JUSTIFY" style="break-before: auto; margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 0.76cm; margin-right: 0.52cm; page-break-before: auto;"><b>This started as part of the 'Letters, memoirs and journals.'
post </b>-- part of of my <i>The Infinite Project which, </i><span style="font-style: normal;">although
it began as</span><i> The Infinite Poem, </i><span style="font-style: normal;">transformed
into a project that de facto, in theory if not in practice,
encompasses all human knowledge and activities, all media. The theory
of it I have written about. For many that complex description is
tedious and I seem, I know, to repeat myself. </span>
</p>
<p align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 0.76cm; margin-right: 0.52cm;"><span style="text-align: left;">However it is in the tradition of
long American poems perhaps starting from Eliot and Pound and leading
right through a gamut of 'projects' including those of the Language
Poets. It, The Infinite Poem, was influenced by an essay by Charles
Bernstein in </span><i style="text-align: left;">In the America Tree </i><span style="text-align: left;">by
Ron Silliman et al.</span></p>
<p align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 0.76cm; margin-right: 0.52cm;"><span style="text-align: left;">But there are many other influences
and things that need to be discussed and or addressed by myself and
others as it is NZ's most radical literary or lit-intellectual
project. There are other such but no one has persisted as I have in
this aspect (I began with </span><i style="text-align: left;">The Infinite Poem</i><span style="text-align: left;">
in 1992 when studying American Poetry in Stage III English with
Roger Horrocks, Wystan Curnow and Michelle Leggott -- all writers and
thinkers I admire and was influenced greatly by at Auckland
University.</span></p>
<p align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 0.76cm; margin-right: 0.52cm;"><b style="text-align: left;">It is NZ's and possibly the world's most innovative and original
work in the area of ideas and the attempt to bring a social and
philosophical change.</b><span style="text-align: left;"> Perhaps Leigh Davis, John Geraets and
others might have gone further and I admire these and many others but
my work is NOT A POEM. Like Leigh Davis I don't like poetry per se. I
would like to see poetry re-named. I tried, at one stage, to call
myself a Neomakker. A 'new-maker'. Of course I still write individual
poems. These tend to be of a wide range of styles and modes. Somewhat
like Christopher Middleton I keep shifting the ground. Much as almost
every poem, including his early 'experimental poems' are different in
a modal sense (almost, in his case it is the internal process of the
poem that shifts. There are many examples and influences I could give
and have done. But it is de facto The Internet (my project, written
at first by hand had links in it which prefigured or pre-empted the Internet, or,
indeed, I had never used the internet so I had not seen hyperlinks.
So I invented or reinvented them (of course I had no idea that the Internet would arrive an in some ways pre-empt my ideas. The Internet is a kind of vast poem. Alan Sondheim of NY, some of whose work I have used (he gives permission to anyone as long as they acknowledge his authorship so he is the only author whose work I acknowledge. (After all this is the age of intertextuality and so on....</span></p>
<p align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 0.76cm; margin-right: 0.52cm;"><span style="text-align: left;">A writer who also inspired me was Leicester Kyle, a priest and later
a poet, who became my friend. He dedicated his (always subtly
ironic) 'project' on Anzac Day to me. I had in fact influenced him by
introducing him to John Ashbery, Luis Zukofsky and thus Lorine
Niedecker etc and of course we circle back to Michelle Leggott.
Conceptual art has been important but all art is important for me.
And all modes. I will create an extensive discussion of the whole
concept of The Infinite Project with many bibliographical references
and also many of my primary influences, as well as the innovations
and ideas tried. Also Dr. Jack Ross, in e.g. EMO, has essayed
something of a similar kind by spreading his work onto the Internet.
That work has sadly gone too unnoticed. Ross in that and other works
is one of the courageous and original innovators (but not a direct
collaborator of myself, although we have both exchanged ideas for
some time, and I suspect it is I who have learnt far more from Jack's
writings than he from mine. I admit to a certain 'fixation' on this
which makes it, to many, even those who like EYELIGHT, rather
tedious. It doesn't fit and it seems repetitive.</span></p>
<p align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 0.76cm; margin-right: 0.52cm;">
<br />
</p>
<p align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 0.76cm; margin-right: 0.52cm;">
I know that people like things short these days. But this is
something I oppose. I oppose those unprepared to work hard at reading
and writing (well, I am very laid back, working hard at writing for
me entails a lot of fascinating reading that is enjoyable and the
'work'). But in a way, one needs to read slowly and closely. There is a place for the endlessly moving images and events that leave people baffled, and obsessed with their small screens as they perhaps listen to music and someone gabbling. But I avoid cell phones, never listen to the radio, and even very rarely listen even to any music. I do watch some lectures on various subjects: Linear Algebra, Virology etc. I also play chess and follow analysis of great chess games. A few other things. But I avoid 'apps' or that endless stream of trivia that tries to bombard me. </p><p align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 0.76cm; margin-right: 0.52cm;"><span style="text-align: left;">But my way of operating includes me doing nothing for months, except to think, or to read, write the
odd poem etc etc. But I feel writers or workers in my mode need to
be readers, good readers, and re-readers. And I am against the
superficiality seen now on the internet.</span></p>
<p align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 0.76cm; margin-right: 0.52cm;"><span style="text-align: left;">I am against cell phones. Yes, of
course, I have a computer, but I spend a lot of time hand writing
things out of books. Roland Barthes is important to me....(as in, say
</span><i style="text-align: left;">Writing Degree Zero</i><span style="text-align: left;">). I like writing things out by hand. I would like to write every book I have, in a beautiful hand written script. I write my 'Endless Book' which probably be read by no one. It has no purpose. It is limited only in that I use no capitals at the start, no full stops of question marks, and I avoid connections of concern about what what I am writing means. And I am not concerned if anyone ever reads it. It is designed like a kind of endless stream except it goes one way -- from left to right....One notebook I wrote in took me several years to complete. </span></p>
<p align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 0.76cm; margin-right: 0.52cm;"><span style="text-align: left;"><span style="color: #fcff01;">__________________________ ____________________
_______________________</span></span></p>
<p align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 0.76cm; margin-right: 0.52cm;"><b style="text-align: left;">Back to the Banaban project.</b><span style="text-align: left;"> My plan is to number the
photographs taken by my grandfather etc. These I will copy to another
file. I will then down load them. The photographs are black and
white.After loading these photographs -- each of which I have
digitally enhanced as much as I can -- I will list the images and
write about them so as to speed up -- I hope as Blogger is terribly
slow -- the upload of the texts. Thus Banaban people and others [it
must be understood that The Infinite Project is exclusive, or
intellectual, much as it may seem so -- in essence it is not
difficult -- but for perhaps phenomenological reasons (read
psychological or quirky perhaps!) for some reason, the process is
'modified' as I 'push' things through the media -- which is as if I
was an artist, which I am inter alia (as much as I am a plumber or a
farmer or a labourer or a poet or a scientist or a photographer or a
buffoon or whatever you name me...I become my many selves...perhaps
Whitmanesque...)...for some reason this process of pushing via the
media as say an artist does using paint or not and say using an
installation or writes 'This Is Art' in the manner of Kosuth...in
these ways, perhaps following Duchamp and Beuys etc I am really
saying -- everyone can be involved. Everyone! Everyone matters, or doesn't matter. If
anyone matters, then so do all human beings. My project rejects
hierarchies, competitions, awards, fame, even money, and Freudian
'immortality' -- it looks to Banaban history as it does to English
history, to Chemistry as it does to quilt making or film making or
playing chess, or eating or whatever, you name it. We are all about
equal. Banaba is symbolic for me of the 'failure' of human beings to
ever progress. Progress for me, and indeed many such abstractions,
are something that is an anathema to me.</span></p>
<p align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 0.76cm; margin-right: 0.52cm;">
I cant "prove" any of this and Time has a way of dealing the death blow to such human-centred ideas. But it is a model for now....</p>
<p align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 0.76cm; margin-right: 0.52cm;">
But as I do this post the pushing through the media, like a farmer
planting crops in different soils etc or an artist using a limited
frame, limited also by his paint, his or her struggle to create
something -- is enmixed with a part of me that subverts what I myself
do....the Swiftean me. Perhaps not as directed as Swift or as intense
as Rabelais, but the Imp in me is always there, undermining with
various degrees of success.
</p>
<p align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 0.76cm; margin-right: 0.52cm;"><span style="text-align: left;">But my aim, the elimination of the
Author, as in Barthes' </span><i style="text-align: left;">Death of the Author</i><span style="text-align: left;">
and so on.</span></p>
<p align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 0.76cm; margin-right: 0.52cm;"><span style="text-align: left;">But we are all a part of this earth. We are all fallible. We all
feel. The human is not abandoned. The Project is not exclusive, it is
inclusive. Inclusive, in principle, of everything and anything. (So
it includes itself?) Aha! We are leading to the Russellian paradox,
all those paradoxes that fascinate the human mind....</span></p>
<p align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 0.76cm; margin-right: 0.52cm;"><span style="text-align: left;">___________________________ ___________________________________</span></p>
<p align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 0.76cm; margin-right: 0.52cm;">
<br />
</p>
<p align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 0.76cm; margin-right: 0.52cm;">
</p>
<p align="JUSTIFY" style="break-before: auto; margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 0.76cm; margin-right: 0.5cm; page-break-before: auto;">
Note that, now I return to posts and add to them. So if anyone looks
at this at all. (I expect nothing.) Then if you wish, return to it
from time to time. I wont have it completed. I may split it into more
than one post. But I have other 'jobs' to do which includes some
reviews and writing etc.</p>
<p align="JUSTIFY" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
_________________________________________
</p>
<p align="JUSTIFY" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</p>
<p align="JUSTIFY" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<span style="font-size: medium;"><b>BANABAN POST -- MAIN POST ONE - PHOTOGRAPHS etc</b></span></p>
<p align="JUSTIFY" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</p>
<p align="JUSTIFY" style="break-before: auto; margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 0.71cm; margin-right: 0.47cm; page-break-before: auto;">
The photographs will all be numbered and notes will be elsewhere
from the photographs to facilitate getting this done. Banaba for me
is absolutely central as an image of the complex and often tragic
process of colonialization and history not only of Banaba and indeed
Nauru but of all of the Pacific of 'Great Ocean' region, but of human
history. And that history has its origins more than 40,000 years ago.
And we can go back many thousands of years.
</p>
<p align="JUSTIFY" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 0.71cm; margin-right: 0.47cm;">
<br />
</p>
<p align="JUSTIFY" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 0.71cm; margin-right: 0.47cm;">
But here, re the Pacific, Banaba is symbolic of the 'illness' that
has beset the Pacific (and the world sadly) and it is powerful, being
an almost overlooked aspect of Imperialistic expoitation that began
by private enterprise. By a man (Ellis in Banaba and Nauru in the
main) whose intentions were not as things developed. Gradually, as in
India (where my maternal grandmother was born to a soldier of the by
now very oppressive and persistent Raj who started de facto in the
time of Queen Elizabeth the I when she initiated the East India
Company, which she didn't see develop but it was at a turning point.
Britain had started to gain sea power over the Spanish and others.
But in most places Capitalism came first, fishing for financial game,
then came the official Government stamp. The destruction by the
European powers, as they emerged thus, was slow but more devastating
in its effects even than the more obviously dramatic actions of the
Japanese.
</p>
<p align="JUSTIFY" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 0.71cm; margin-right: 0.47cm;">
<br />
</p>
<p align="JUSTIFY" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 0.71cm; margin-right: 0.47cm;">
But the lesson should be that it is even now not necessarily China or
'other' nations we should fear (why should we, because the CIA say we
should?), but the insidious and continued incursions of various
powers: British, US, French, Australian NZ (a power to small Island
nations), Indonesia and others. But any animal that senses weakness
and a meal will move slowly or quickly toward a weaker prey.
</p>
<p align="JUSTIFY" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 0.71cm; margin-right: 0.47cm;">
<br />
</p>
<p align="JUSTIFY" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 0.71cm; margin-right: 0.47cm;">
But what of history? We do need to know history as well as we can,
that of the Pacific nations and those 'Western or Westernized'
nations such as Japan, Australia, the US, Australia, NZ and other
nations. So as we look to any future we have to go back in history to
see how things developed.
</p>
<p align="JUSTIFY" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 0.71cm; margin-right: 0.47cm;">
<br />
</p>
<p align="JUSTIFY" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 0.71cm; margin-right: 0.47cm;">
As we 'go back' data if data is anywhere reliable, is less and less
reliable. Still the fascination of Banaba is its almost <i>complete
destruction. </i>
</p>
<p align="JUSTIFY" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 0.71cm; margin-right: 0.47cm;">
<br />
</p>
<p align="JUSTIFY" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 0.71cm; margin-right: 0.47cm;">
<i>If we get to the 19th Century we are in the full process of
Capital. Capital and massive industrial exploitation is happening in
Europe and in those countries who have and or will colonialize. </i>
</p>
<p align="JUSTIFY" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 0.71cm; margin-right: 0.47cm;">
<br />
</p>
<p align="JUSTIFY" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 0.71cm; margin-right: 0.47cm;">
<i>This is not greed or human stupidity or a 'tragedy of history'
it is indeed the resultant of human beings being </i><span style="font-style: normal;">too
intelligent</span><i>. </i>
</p>
<p align="JUSTIFY" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 0.71cm; margin-right: 0.47cm;">
<br />
</p>
<p align="JUSTIFY" style="break-before: auto; margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 0.68cm; margin-right: 0.45cm; page-break-before: auto;">
<span style="font-style: normal;">But I shall leave that for now. This
Baudrillardian certainty.</span><i> [But I or we will put that
aside.] </i><span style="font-style: normal;">Let us suppose something
better might have been done. Note that after the Banabans through one
courageous young man who travelled to England (I think in the 60s),
he managed to find a lawyer. Thus began the longest legal trial of
its kind in the history of British law. </span>
</p>
<p align="JUSTIFY" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 0.68cm; margin-right: 0.45cm;">
<br />
</p>
<p align="JUSTIFY" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 0.68cm; margin-right: 0.45cm;">
<i>It seems the Judge was convinced of a wrong done by those
Capitalists who had torn out the phosphate, sold it, and failed to
reconstitute the land or vegetation, and in particular, the coconut
trees. </i><span style="font-style: normal;">He adjourned the trial
and went to Banaba! But a decision on compensation was not made. In
so far as</span><i> </i><span style="font-style: normal;">Capital </span><i>can
do "wrong", </i><span style="font-style: normal;">it seems
that it was inevitable that </span><i>no 'just' compensation was
made. </i>
</p>
<p align="JUSTIFY" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</p>
<p align="JUSTIFY" style="break-before: auto; margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 0.61cm; margin-right: 0.45cm; page-break-before: auto;">
But there is a symbolic power in this story. We want to believe
in a 'better world' in justice and so on (even if these might forever
remain illusory)....
</p>
<p align="JUSTIFY" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 0.61cm; margin-right: 0.45cm;">
<br />
</p>
<p align="JUSTIFY" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 0.61cm; margin-right: 0.45cm;">
Is there Justice in the World? No one can say as we are immediately
dealing with abstractions or what is called 'nominalism' versus
general statements. We can talk about a just person or good result
and a free bird etc and many other particulars (nominals of names)
but in general these fatal shouts of Freedom, Equality, Justice,
Love, Goodness, Truth....these (don't believe me) fall on the 'dull
cold ear of death'....</p>
<p align="JUSTIFY" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 0.61cm; margin-right: 0.45cm;">
<br />
</p>
<p align="JUSTIFY" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 0.61cm; margin-right: 0.45cm;">
But I hand you over to my mother's 'take' on Banaba as <i>this is not
about what I think....</i></p>
<p align="JUSTIFY" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 0.61cm; margin-right: 0.45cm;">
<i>If the Project is to 'work' it needs a clamour of voices. It is
multi-headed, polyvocal, and moves between questions. If there are
answers there are no doubt more questions. </i><span style="font-style: normal;">As
with Wittgenstein, say of his</span><i> Philosophical Investigations
-- </i><span style="font-style: normal;">it is created from hundreds
of never-solved questions whose probing and delving leads us merely
toward or through a fascinating speculational world...it is beautiful
and fascinating this capacity of the mind to question and even solve
some puzzles, but it is not what we want, only a part of it....</span></p>
<p align="JUSTIFY" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 0.61cm; margin-right: 0.45cm;"><i style="text-align: left;">Let us listen to the people of the earth, says the Wind, let us be
humble. We know nothing. Let us try. Let us keep on....despite
all...let us feel joyful...perhaps at least we can learn to pray, or
at the slightest, not to bomb or kill each other on this earth....If
it seems we can only sink, then let us learn kindness and gentleness,
let us have no part of war....Let us try...</i></p>
<p align="JUSTIFY" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 0.61cm; margin-right: 0.45cm;">
<br />
</p>
<p align="JUSTIFY" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"> <b>BANABA
Symbol of the Pacific</b></p>
<p align="JUSTIFY" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</p>
<p align="JUSTIFY" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"> * The island was
'discovered' by a vessel of that name. At the time, a little before
the 19th
</p>
<p align="JUSTIFY" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"> Century, people,
white and other, of dubious character were inhabiting the Islands
often they
</p>
<p align="JUSTIFY" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"> were criminals, or
'unfortunates', but they were a mixed lot. Theirs I suppose is
another story.</p>
<p align="JUSTIFY" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"> </p>
<p align="JUSTIFY" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="font-size: small;"><b><br /></b></span></p><p align="JUSTIFY" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="font-size: small;"><b>_<span style="color: #2b00fe;">_________________________________ ________________________________________</span></b></span></p><p align="JUSTIFY" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="color: #2b00fe; font-size: small;"><b>__________________________________________ ________________________________ </b></span></p><p align="JUSTIFY" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"> <span style="font-size: large;"><b>MY
MOTHER'S MEMOIRS OF BANABA AND ENGLAND </b></span></p>
<p align="JUSTIFY" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="text-align: left;">Here is my mother's
memoir of Banaba (which she called Ocean Island). I n part it will
refer to her time in England.</span></p>
<p align="JUSTIFY" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
</p>
<p style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="font-size: small;">[ N.B. Details of Miller
family in Family Tree were compiled by Frank Miller [and John Gray
who started with the Gray family.] ... and as a John Gray was a keen
researcher of his own family tree, it included ours as my
grandmother's name was Gray, and thus we were related to him. His
details were extensive but I don't have a copy. I recall seeing it.]</span></p>
<p style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="color: #01ffff; font-family: arial;">_________________________________________________ ________________________ _______________________________ _________________________________________ _</span></p>
<p style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"> <span style="font-size: small;"><b>My Grandfather
Miller, Robert Miller,</b> had six brothers [needs edit]: James, George,
Benjamin, and one sister, Esther. I do not know their order, in age,
nor where they lived or were born [some details in the Miller-Gray
family tree]. Believe it to be Northamptonshire or Huntingdonshire –
Midlands anyway. </span>
</p>
<p style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"> <span style="font-size: small;">I believe James and
George went to London eventually but am vague about their occupations
or whether they married or had families. John settled in Kettering &
owned and operated a mineral water factory, co partner with [one of
the] a Child's.</span></p>
<p style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"> <span style="font-size: small;">John married Ruth
Childs, sister of Alf & they had no children.</span></p>
<p style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"> <span style="font-size: small;">I well remember
Benjamin. He started in the printing business but when we were
children. He was </span>Editor of the Times of
India (in Calcutta). He came to England in various “long leaves”
& visited us then. He always had gifts for my brother & I, &
sent lovely books at Xmas. “Uncle Ben” (though really Great-Uncle
seemed a gentle man, very brown from the tropical sun – and by no
means handsome – but very interesting to us all.</p>
<p style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"> <span style="font-size: small;">My Grandfather Robert
became an engine driver on the L.M.S. (London, North Eastern
Railways) [this crossed out]. He married Elizabeth Gale Childs, my
grandmother, who was the sister of Ruth (John's wife). They moved to
various cities to suit his work. Their eldest child, Maud Ruth, was
born in Nottingham, my father John Robert, was born in Leicester. The
other children of the marriage were Gertrude, Frank, & Mary Ann,
known as Polly.</span></p>
<p style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"> <span style="font-size: small;">My father was born in
1883 & diseases were rife in those days, especially TB or its
various forms, & fevers – Scarlet fever, Diptheria, Typhoid
etc. My grandfather, Robert died of typhoid fever about 1897. </span>
</p>
<p style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"> <span style="font-size: small;">My father had started
at a science /engineering school at Rugby but at about 14 had to
leave & go to work. Grandmother worked as a matron at a poor old
peoples home at Cambridge. Here eldest daughter, Maud, at 16 started
as a pupil/teacher – at Kettering Primary School. The two youngest
of the family, Frank and Polly were adopted by Ruth and John.
Gertrude, I belive, did some nursing. [I remember my mother telling
me she had received letters from her Auntie Maud and Gertrude. They
sent me 10 shillings from time to time and it was banked. Now I
realise more about these people I am more grateful and thoughtful of
them all. R.T. 2019]</span></p>
<p style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"> <span style="font-size: small;">My father also
contracted typhoid at about 13 or 14. Luckily he recovered, though he
blamed his being shorter than most of the Miller men on that illness
in his growing years.</span></p>
<p style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"> <span style="font-size: small;">Father (known to family
& friends as Jack) had to leave Rugby Secondary School on the
death of his father and find work. He had work at a sewing machine
factory, and also – in the Railways Telegraph Office – so learnt
a few skills – on his way to eventually becoming a builder &
carpenter</span></p>
<p style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"> <span style="font-size: small;">He came to New Zealand
at the age of 21 [1904] & joined his friend Cath Adams working as
a builder for Cath's father C. Adams senior. Working mostly in
Tauranga, & Waihi was then a thriving Gold mining town. At some
stage also he worked in Auckland also as a builder. Then he went to
Australia – visiting some relatives in the Hunter River Valley
N.S.W., & eventually joined the British Phosphate Commission
(Melbourne) as a builder / carpenter for Ocean Island [Banaba], in
1908 aged 24 or 25. </span>
</p>
<p style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"> <span style="font-size: small;">Then in 1915 Jack left
the Island to enlist in the armed forces & chose to join with his
friend Cath Adams in the N.Z. Rifle Brigade.</span></p>
<p style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"> <span style="font-size: small;">From Sydney he had
written a proposal of marriage to my Mother. They had met &
become friendly during his long leave from the Island, & they
married on August 26<sup>th</sup> , 1916 during army leave. </span>
</p>
<p style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"> <span style="font-size: small;">My mother was Beatrice
Amy Gray. (Details of the Gray family are on a family tree compiled
by John Gray, Sidney.)</span></p>
<p style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"> <span style="font-size: small;">Mother and her younger
sister Bara lived together in Bedford while their menfolk were away
at war; Bara already had a small boy, Alan. I was born on the 29<sup>th</sup>
May 1917, and 6 weeks later Bara's second son Derek arrived. </span>
</p>
<p style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"> <span style="font-size: small;">My grandfather Gray
died about the time of my mother's marriage. He had retired from his
army life with the Royal Welsh Fusiliers. He had married in India &
they [his wife was Emma Jane Joy and his name was b. 9<sup>th</sup>
March 1851, died 29 August 1916. Lived mainly India and Bedford.] had
13 children while there [in India]. Some died very young and 7
survived to adulthood. I was called after my grandmother Gray – her
maiden name was Joy, & she was Emma Jane Joy, so I got the Joy. </span>
</p>
<p style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"> <span style="font-size: small;">When the war was over
father had to return to New Zealand for his army discharge.Then our
family proceeded to Sydney, & Newcastle, where we boarded ship
for Ocean Island. I was about 20 months old then.</span></p>
<p style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</p>
<p style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"> <u> <span style="font-size: small;">Childhood on a
tropical island was a delightful time – there are only odd flashes
of memory of the very young years. I played in the beach behind the
house – we (other children & I) hunted for lizard eggs. The
lizards seemed to choose the curled mid point of dead palm leaves
which litter the ground under the palms. When we found the tiny eggs
we broke the heavy one to see the babies streak away to hide. Cruel:
we also broke some which were not ready! </span></u>
</p>
<p style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><u> <span style="font-size: small;">Earlier I had a
wooden horse on wheels (made by my father) & used to make a
mixture of coloured flower petals in soggy water to feed it. There
were one or two boys about my age and we got up to mischief. My worst
crime was pulling up a young palm tree to eat the centre – so
delicious – Millionnaire Salad. All the palms belonged to the
Banabans & that particular owner came to my father with his
complaint and Dad had to pay for the tree. I will not forget how
angry he was with me! My brother Frank arrived on 28<sup>th</sup> of
November 1921. We only had tinned milk so with a weaned baby my
father got some goats and he was fed on goats milk for quite a while.
</span></u>
</p>
<p style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><u> <span style="font-size: small;">A little kid arrived
and that was my pet – I loved him but he disappeared – I expect
they sold him. I also had kittens from time to time. When Frank
arrived they got a Banaban lady Oreba to look afer him (both of us).
She was a dear & we all loved her. When they went to Sydney on
leave Oreba went too. But she was not happy at all! – Too cold and
she had to wear large shoes. So did we and [also] hated it! Mother
made us some flat shoes to arrive in.</span></u></p>
<p style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><u> <span style="font-size: small;">The Banabans were
divided into 4 villages: Ooma – & near Ooma were all the
phosphate driers [?], the machine & the carpentary shop [looking
at a recent YouTube by some Ham Radio enthusiasts, who visited Banaba
about 2015 I think, [2019] all those including the Power Plant, the
machine and carpentary shop, a hospital (possibly the one mum
mentions in this memoir), and a dentists, are in a state of
destruction and decay: it is a kind of tragic scene, dark & eerie
with only 300 Banabans there. Desolate with all the activity and life
gone. And of course the lives of the Banaban people radically changed
if not destroyed. Despite this they seem an amazing people. Mostly
they are quite healthy looking and often happy, but most now live on
an Island near Fiji. Operations stopped I think about 1989 or so.].
….</span></u></p>
<p style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><u> <span style="font-size: small;">[To
continue.]...carpentry and machine shop, offices, stores, and up the
hill a way houses for the white workers, mostly Australians. Yabwebwa
was near where we lived – the village a little way further inland &
up the hill. </span></u>
</p>
<p style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><u> <span style="font-size: small;">Our house was close
to the sea (Western outlook) and there was a way down to the shore
between the pinnacles – we called it 'Miller's Beach'</span></u></p>
<p style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><u> <span style="font-size: small;">Puakonikau was near
the highest part of the Island North of Tabwebwa – & Tabiang
was about midway between Tabwebwa and Ooma – lower ground. There
was a Post Office & later a small school for white children; and
several of the Government officials lived near there.</span></u></p>
<p style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><u> <span style="font-size: small;">In the meantime
Mother taught me & a few others to read and write and do simple
sums. (She had been a kindergarten teacher.)</span></u></p>
<p style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><u> <span style="font-size: small;">Connecting the
villages were roads – dirt and lined with lumps of coral. Lower
down on the flat there was a narrow-gage railway line between
Tabwebwa & Ooma.</span></u></p>
<p style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="font-size: small;"><u>We sat on a seat on a
flat car, poled by two natives. When I cut my foot badly the houseboy
called the polers and they got us to Ooma, then one of the polers
carried me up the hill to where the hospital was located. So I had 7
stitches!</u></span></p>
<p style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><u> <span style="font-size: small;">The B.P.C [the
British Phosphate Commission] employees got 3 months every 2 years
and English people could have 5 months leave after 2 years to visit
England if they wished.</span></u></p>
<p style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><u> <span style="font-size: small;">All our relatives
were in England, so in 1926 we set off on that journey. It took two
weeks – about – to get to Australia – and we then boarded a
liner in Sydney & I think about six weeks later arrived at [the]
Tilbury docks. [The Thames, near London.] </span></u>
</p>
<p style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><u> <span style="font-size: small;">On board there were
lots of children & activities were arranged for them by the
stewards and stewardesses to look after us. Just as well as my
Mother, as soon as she boarded a boat, was always sick. </span></u>
</p>
<p style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><u><span style="font-size: small;">From Tilbury we went
by train to Kettering, Northamptonshire – the home of my auntie
Maud, (father's older sister), her husband & granny Miller (then
called Shrives).</span></u></p>
<p style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">Granny was tiny –
white haired, rosy cheeks. She always wore black frocks tight
waisted, with white inset at neck and high collars, usually white
lace. She spent her days doing the mending, darning socks etc, and
always had time for a hug with us especially Frank, who was about to
be 5. [Joy was then 9<span style="font-family: Times New Roman, serif;">½].</span></p>
<p style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"> <span style="font-family: Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">There
were two horrors ahead for us: Frank and I were to be left here when
Mother and Dad returned to the Island. Number 2 was school!</span></span></p>
<p style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"> <span style="font-family: Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">School
was a tall brick building with a paved yard for a playground. Frank
was with the beginners, but of course I was with my age group, and
amongst so many children – I was completely bewildered and soon
made such a fuss that at home, absolutely refusing to go to school. </span></span>
</p>
<p style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"> <span style="font-family: Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Eventually
I was put in a small private school with just a few girls and managed
to settle down quite happily. This was run by two sisters, the Miss
Butchers & was a preparatory school for the high school which we
started at 11 years.</span></span></p>
<p style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"> <span style="font-family: Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Soon
we started having piano lessons. Our teacher was Miss Longmate, a
friend of Auntie's who lived nearby. Frank* did not go on for long
but I loved it & rapidly progressed. </span></span>
</p>
<p style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"> <span style="font-family: Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Our
uncle bought a car & that was a great excitement. All Summer long
on fine Saturdays or Sundays we went for drives and picnics &
found all the lovely country side around. The further afield for a
day outing to Felixstowe & the beach. </span></span>
</p>
<p style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"> <span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman, serif;">The
waters were and the snow were strange to us at first, and then the
dark coming at 3 pm on some days. Somedays it was too bad to go to
school, but we soon found the pleasure out of it with slides &
snow balls etc. </span> </span>
</p>
<p style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"> <span style="font-size: small;">Holidays staying with
various Aunts & cousins (mother's sisters & their children),
were a delight. Three of her sisters: Mary, Totte & Daisy lived
at Weymouth on the South Coast and we spent many wonderful weeks
there with [many] days at the beach. How we got there I cant
remember. Probably taken by car by the Andrews family who lived near
us and were friends of Auntie Tottie. Mother's younger sister Bara &
her husband were sole teachers at a village school not far from
Kettering & I enjoyed staying there with all those cousins (5 of
them). Country rambles & picking blackberries was the main
attraction there. </span>
</p>
<p style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"> <span style="font-size: small;">Mother's brother Rowley
lived at Woburn, a small village near Bedford. He lived with his wife
and children. These were: Molly, about 3 or 4 years older than me, &
Teddy, a bit older still. Rowley lost a leg through wounds in the
Boer War & travelled about on a motor bike side-car. I enjoyed
staying week-ends with them, or a few days in Winter holidays.</span></p>
<p style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">…<span style="font-size: small;">.....................................................................................................................................</span></p>
<p style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="font-size: small;">.................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................</span></p>
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<p style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="font-size: small;">........................................................................................................................................….....................................................................................................................................</span></p>
<p style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="font-size: small;">.................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................</span></p>
<p style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="font-size: small;">.........................................................................................................................................</span></p>
<p style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="font-size: small;">........................................................................................................................................….....................................................................................................................................</span></p>
<p style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="font-size: small;">*My uncle Frank later
stayed in England when my mother returned to Melbourne [Firbank High
School] and Ocean Island, and he was in the RAF flying, inter alia,
bombers, more or less near the end of the war. He told me that this
was really a terrible time and most of his mates were killed. He also
told me the anecdote of the bombs jettisoning. Flying from Africa to
bomb German-French targets they were all due for leave. Over the
intercom as they headed out he suggested that they head straight for
the Atlantic, drop the bombs, then head straight to England. They did
so. </span>
</p>
<p align="JUSTIFY" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="font-size: small;">.......................................................................................................................................</span></p>
<p align="JUSTIFY" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</p>
<p align="JUSTIFY" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
</p>
<p align="JUSTIFY" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"> <span style="font-size: small;">Above I
have underlined the time most relevant to my mother's time in Banaba.
There were also many times, quite a few years, from about 1932 to
1935. She continued to go to Banaba on the Phosphate ships in the
school holidays. Firbank was a high school in Melbourne. I think it
still exists: </span>
</p>
<p align="JUSTIFY" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</p>
<p align="JUSTIFY" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"> <span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><b>PHOTOGRAPHS
OF BANABA AND RELATED THINGS:</b></span></span></p>
<p align="JUSTIFY" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">I will number each, not in any relevant order but so I can then comment on each below. </p><p align="JUSTIFY" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br /></p><p align="JUSTIFY" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"> 1.<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6A62A4IZ1eoeI4npLG1TpR4oyZT5i88nuyXi9phoTysyrxgMII3j02bFGgufrW519yzroZCx-dzLrmrmFpAbkANvKOc9iYAi0v6JX1IBVagmIRxXkrIj0Y-rNGsdquHaTGGY5LDfQB8lQqs2j7eslmEK5vY1Jj1vCjiH25zejDeap-D6XPutB-pkBBQ/s2558/New%20--%20Family%20Album%20Millers%20Grays%20Ocean%20Island%20jan%202020%20001ba.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1891" data-original-width="2558" height="296" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6A62A4IZ1eoeI4npLG1TpR4oyZT5i88nuyXi9phoTysyrxgMII3j02bFGgufrW519yzroZCx-dzLrmrmFpAbkANvKOc9iYAi0v6JX1IBVagmIRxXkrIj0Y-rNGsdquHaTGGY5LDfQB8lQqs2j7eslmEK5vY1Jj1vCjiH25zejDeap-D6XPutB-pkBBQ/w400-h296/New%20--%20Family%20Album%20Millers%20Grays%20Ocean%20Island%20jan%202020%20001ba.jpg" width="400" /></a> </p><p align="JUSTIFY" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br /></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">2.<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMr49f9nvNFINA4gsfPrJvJ2KGz3tI8svjmBAsXL-pxWV0lc30oGCpg2tRS_L7xNmv2MsnvTD49-xRFaBIiYx8YQHnzoXTmZVoGgRg4Ap1Q3r2dv1kgIMnu3thQwBWGwP2MIc7ZxKKUeES9_CGEuJs0E4LAIhyACQqmcFPVdN4KxfnjkEmFFay9Ne8pw/s1838/New%20--%20Family%20Album%20Millers%20Grays%20Ocean%20Island%20jan%202020%20002bd.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1838" data-original-width="1618" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMr49f9nvNFINA4gsfPrJvJ2KGz3tI8svjmBAsXL-pxWV0lc30oGCpg2tRS_L7xNmv2MsnvTD49-xRFaBIiYx8YQHnzoXTmZVoGgRg4Ap1Q3r2dv1kgIMnu3thQwBWGwP2MIc7ZxKKUeES9_CGEuJs0E4LAIhyACQqmcFPVdN4KxfnjkEmFFay9Ne8pw/w353-h400/New%20--%20Family%20Album%20Millers%20Grays%20Ocean%20Island%20jan%202020%20002bd.jpg" width="353" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5kEURQ9WIxBDsAxCIGqOmgTB7VOpPwDeJN3YzHmRukiHTNTPNfz5Chs-PjnRNXNJf_4k7H6lEHSpWL75sqYNqNxizev71idFhGXZQVP9Xiokv6BFQQBdsr-ILkagQrhxc2tisB77UhB_IgUjtGa-vAJhSJezrO9VDK-lXv86XwBskA-fn1J3ohu-S_g/s5060/New%20--%20Family%20Album%20Millers%20Grays%20Ocean%20Island%20jan%202020%20004b.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><br /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5kEURQ9WIxBDsAxCIGqOmgTB7VOpPwDeJN3YzHmRukiHTNTPNfz5Chs-PjnRNXNJf_4k7H6lEHSpWL75sqYNqNxizev71idFhGXZQVP9Xiokv6BFQQBdsr-ILkagQrhxc2tisB77UhB_IgUjtGa-vAJhSJezrO9VDK-lXv86XwBskA-fn1J3ohu-S_g/s5060/New%20--%20Family%20Album%20Millers%20Grays%20Ocean%20Island%20jan%202020%20004b.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><br /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5kEURQ9WIxBDsAxCIGqOmgTB7VOpPwDeJN3YzHmRukiHTNTPNfz5Chs-PjnRNXNJf_4k7H6lEHSpWL75sqYNqNxizev71idFhGXZQVP9Xiokv6BFQQBdsr-ILkagQrhxc2tisB77UhB_IgUjtGa-vAJhSJezrO9VDK-lXv86XwBskA-fn1J3ohu-S_g/s5060/New%20--%20Family%20Album%20Millers%20Grays%20Ocean%20Island%20jan%202020%20004b.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><br /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5kEURQ9WIxBDsAxCIGqOmgTB7VOpPwDeJN3YzHmRukiHTNTPNfz5Chs-PjnRNXNJf_4k7H6lEHSpWL75sqYNqNxizev71idFhGXZQVP9Xiokv6BFQQBdsr-ILkagQrhxc2tisB77UhB_IgUjtGa-vAJhSJezrO9VDK-lXv86XwBskA-fn1J3ohu-S_g/s5060/New%20--%20Family%20Album%20Millers%20Grays%20Ocean%20Island%20jan%202020%20004b.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><br /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5kEURQ9WIxBDsAxCIGqOmgTB7VOpPwDeJN3YzHmRukiHTNTPNfz5Chs-PjnRNXNJf_4k7H6lEHSpWL75sqYNqNxizev71idFhGXZQVP9Xiokv6BFQQBdsr-ILkagQrhxc2tisB77UhB_IgUjtGa-vAJhSJezrO9VDK-lXv86XwBskA-fn1J3ohu-S_g/s5060/New%20--%20Family%20Album%20Millers%20Grays%20Ocean%20Island%20jan%202020%20004b.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><br /></a>3<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5kEURQ9WIxBDsAxCIGqOmgTB7VOpPwDeJN3YzHmRukiHTNTPNfz5Chs-PjnRNXNJf_4k7H6lEHSpWL75sqYNqNxizev71idFhGXZQVP9Xiokv6BFQQBdsr-ILkagQrhxc2tisB77UhB_IgUjtGa-vAJhSJezrO9VDK-lXv86XwBskA-fn1J3ohu-S_g/s5060/New%20--%20Family%20Album%20Millers%20Grays%20Ocean%20Island%20jan%202020%20004b.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="5060" data-original-width="3795" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5kEURQ9WIxBDsAxCIGqOmgTB7VOpPwDeJN3YzHmRukiHTNTPNfz5Chs-PjnRNXNJf_4k7H6lEHSpWL75sqYNqNxizev71idFhGXZQVP9Xiokv6BFQQBdsr-ILkagQrhxc2tisB77UhB_IgUjtGa-vAJhSJezrO9VDK-lXv86XwBskA-fn1J3ohu-S_g/w403-h640/New%20--%20Family%20Album%20Millers%20Grays%20Ocean%20Island%20jan%202020%20004b.jpg" width="403" /></a></div><p align="JUSTIFY" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span> </span><span> </span></p><p align="JUSTIFY" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span></p><p align="JUSTIFY" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjF9JBWUe4UCnzXOrabt7xnrR_3Wkhiu7q6WY6JAzQj0cbP3IWCgRslZ0Y-GucjETmhijcOvYyJwX88tDuwX0z6BDGYaLqN9KDSTZ0v5931gfyZKned1bT_vSY18m1lVXIrCHc0_MqZPQ7Eh__V6It4sbNDMspC4NPqvJk2YRk7Ui29g88Z9bJs6g67g/s2468/New%20--%20Family%20Album%20Millers%20Grays%20Ocean%20Island%20jan%202020%20005b.jpg" style="clear: left; display: inline; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1574" data-original-width="2468" height="408" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjF9JBWUe4UCnzXOrabt7xnrR_3Wkhiu7q6WY6JAzQj0cbP3IWCgRslZ0Y-GucjETmhijcOvYyJwX88tDuwX0z6BDGYaLqN9KDSTZ0v5931gfyZKned1bT_vSY18m1lVXIrCHc0_MqZPQ7Eh__V6It4sbNDMspC4NPqvJk2YRk7Ui29g88Z9bJs6g67g/w640-h408/New%20--%20Family%20Album%20Millers%20Grays%20Ocean%20Island%20jan%202020%20005b.jpg" width="640" /></a></p><p align="JUSTIFY" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span>4</span></p><p align="JUSTIFY" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="text-align: left;"> </span><span style="text-align: left;"> </span><span style="text-align: left;"> </span><span style="text-align: left;"> </span><span style="text-align: left;"> </span><span style="text-align: left;"> </span></p><p align="JUSTIFY" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span> </span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihvqIPtRbKbZZPnz0i46d40W4usgrnClb61-_yZRW6BoiwoVIRbqI2gDeFxMirWIZcgxcGTr8G3d8qD1wTACxjpB9SP3hCSxQN4x6sKjTNks2eaDUxtk3UbYwRyH5wDfQX6hTd-FgFoEjdKH87afKx-5DA0HdmfbYmf1aGghJuGvyz4qf9O5tGxDbesA/s2462/New%20--%20Family%20Album%20Millers%20Grays%20Ocean%20Island%20jan%202020%20008b.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1876" data-original-width="2462" height="305" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihvqIPtRbKbZZPnz0i46d40W4usgrnClb61-_yZRW6BoiwoVIRbqI2gDeFxMirWIZcgxcGTr8G3d8qD1wTACxjpB9SP3hCSxQN4x6sKjTNks2eaDUxtk3UbYwRyH5wDfQX6hTd-FgFoEjdKH87afKx-5DA0HdmfbYmf1aGghJuGvyz4qf9O5tGxDbesA/w400-h305/New%20--%20Family%20Album%20Millers%20Grays%20Ocean%20Island%20jan%202020%20008b.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><p align="JUSTIFY" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br /></p><p align="JUSTIFY" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br /></p><p align="JUSTIFY" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br /></p><p align="JUSTIFY" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br /></p><p align="JUSTIFY" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br /></p><p align="JUSTIFY" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br /></p><p align="JUSTIFY" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br /></p><p align="JUSTIFY" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br /></p><p align="JUSTIFY" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br /></p><p align="JUSTIFY" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">5</p><p align="JUSTIFY" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span>6</span><br /></p><p align="JUSTIFY" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><br /></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOS2EtEkkbt6s8So3Qb8dHC2W7WsrCoWR76Znejbq5qV79NPsojvTcxIR1Gc2PW9OVNJBhPVhzI4WD84E8RN3Yf3Tc1vKMN0I7PHV_3G6fjPjxTsHusyK_vs8hqmGw4dzS0Mh0poePNV3qNaQY6HcCLwPIwqu3PgSHyJvvTUgzJjBF-Qe0BZshaU5K3w/s2560/New%20--%20Family%20Album%20Millers%20Grays%20Ocean%20Island%20jan%202020%20024.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1920" data-original-width="2560" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOS2EtEkkbt6s8So3Qb8dHC2W7WsrCoWR76Znejbq5qV79NPsojvTcxIR1Gc2PW9OVNJBhPVhzI4WD84E8RN3Yf3Tc1vKMN0I7PHV_3G6fjPjxTsHusyK_vs8hqmGw4dzS0Mh0poePNV3qNaQY6HcCLwPIwqu3PgSHyJvvTUgzJjBF-Qe0BZshaU5K3w/w400-h300/New%20--%20Family%20Album%20Millers%20Grays%20Ocean%20Island%20jan%202020%20024.JPG" width="400" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><p align="JUSTIFY" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><br /></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhE_PkHLeR_a0kdQxAFXT1l-zxPqy3xaaRVlBsHOFvhi2Avs9oRkDaDkP7u1AbaomhpkbrBseH-_WRrfnXgj4t2_j2Q7OYdzx0kNUsfaIM1zoUgMlbZNF_Q1MMLHcnEh6PgZP56uYwVYSmvIdgihlK2nWrN0KmW1stTDj2yVeHtjOLdTYkHHiXLntI-pg/s2560/New%20--%20Family%20Album%20Millers%20Grays%20Ocean%20Island%20jan%202020%20023.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1920" data-original-width="2560" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhE_PkHLeR_a0kdQxAFXT1l-zxPqy3xaaRVlBsHOFvhi2Avs9oRkDaDkP7u1AbaomhpkbrBseH-_WRrfnXgj4t2_j2Q7OYdzx0kNUsfaIM1zoUgMlbZNF_Q1MMLHcnEh6PgZP56uYwVYSmvIdgihlK2nWrN0KmW1stTDj2yVeHtjOLdTYkHHiXLntI-pg/s320/New%20--%20Family%20Album%20Millers%20Grays%20Ocean%20Island%20jan%202020%20023.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br /><p align="JUSTIFY" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br /></p><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgIA5piAEL24Y5ODxcWlYRu-Zll-JDYoNbpVo7ob9Fz4-BXXgZOF2_wBNN_4CM6ltFnH38R6DAoXJn5yF2QR6CxPqH9guGshBE6yqicADPAWcSKjoddecyG97eYnvYjRViZ9bzImSznGfb9HeRJ3g_rrI33gPF1rEqSNNZlT1onuV1K8CHCMbR8jv6mPA/s2560/New%20--%20Family%20Album%20Millers%20Grays%20Ocean%20Island%20jan%202020%20022.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1920" data-original-width="2560" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgIA5piAEL24Y5ODxcWlYRu-Zll-JDYoNbpVo7ob9Fz4-BXXgZOF2_wBNN_4CM6ltFnH38R6DAoXJn5yF2QR6CxPqH9guGshBE6yqicADPAWcSKjoddecyG97eYnvYjRViZ9bzImSznGfb9HeRJ3g_rrI33gPF1rEqSNNZlT1onuV1K8CHCMbR8jv6mPA/w400-h300/New%20--%20Family%20Album%20Millers%20Grays%20Ocean%20Island%20jan%202020%20022.JPG" width="400" /></a></div><p align="JUSTIFY" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br /></p><p align="JUSTIFY" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj67OAea0GqjYUEXKPTD67M0k7oFus4bXlRk2ys3ST1DwYTdhGAySW6-iM6UCyfpCGZP_p6MKa_vQm3MkQa_IK5kEDtLhBbTUezZlDQ-9AXwD1F6oYy3h0i7DK8n97jRHRgv0iP79QmGZ8Q9RbOnOsLY5xLVeeCLykeq6tgXNr1JDCAL-PuyKuYgsIH0g/s2560/New%20--%20Family%20Album%20Millers%20Grays%20Ocean%20Island%20jan%202020%20021.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1920" data-original-width="2560" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj67OAea0GqjYUEXKPTD67M0k7oFus4bXlRk2ys3ST1DwYTdhGAySW6-iM6UCyfpCGZP_p6MKa_vQm3MkQa_IK5kEDtLhBbTUezZlDQ-9AXwD1F6oYy3h0i7DK8n97jRHRgv0iP79QmGZ8Q9RbOnOsLY5xLVeeCLykeq6tgXNr1JDCAL-PuyKuYgsIH0g/s320/New%20--%20Family%20Album%20Millers%20Grays%20Ocean%20Island%20jan%202020%20021.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><p style="margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 0.96cm; text-indent: -0.53cm;"> 6 (Four images). My great maternal great grandfather Captain William Gray. Born
9/3/1841 at Titchmarsh, Northants (Northamptonshire) and died
28/9/1916 at Kettering, Northants. He served in India where my
maternal grandmother, Amy Beatrice Gray, was born at Agra, on the
13th of November, 1885. She died at Auckland, NZ (lived last at - I
think Takuranga Rd, first off Cheltenham Rd (cnr. closest to the Rd
to Devenport centre).</p>
<p style="margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 0.96cm; text-indent: -0.53cm;"><span style="text-indent: -0.53cm;">The next picture is my maternal great grandmother Emma Jane Gray
(nee Joy), wife of William Gray and mother of Beatrice Amy Gray. (We
used to visit her and her husband J R Miller in the 1950s to 60s
mostly by vehiclular ferry as the Harbour Bridge was not built until
1959. We had great holidays there. We had great English roast dinners
when we went on a Sunday and then 'high tea brought in on a trolley.
We would go to the beach or play at the Domain across the road,
always rushing to a tree on the edge we used to climb down. Grandma
made great scones! She would say things like: 'Be off with you!' or
'A penny for your thoughts', sometimes that we would miss here when
she was 'Dead and gone.')</span></p>
<p style="margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 0.96cm; text-indent: -0.53cm;"><span style="text-indent: -0.53cm;">As to my great grand mother whose name was Emma Jane Joy, I am
not sure if it was she my mother met, she died on the 29/11/1924. And
J R Miller's mother was alive. The memoirs of my mother tell which
one she met. Perhaps she met both. J R Miller's mother, Edna Shrine
(she had re-married after J R Miller's father Robert (the train
engine driver) died. She was born Elizbeth Gale Childs. Confused? I
am I have seen the Gray line as one John Gray researched the Grays,
later I believe Frank Miller, my mother's brother, researched the
Grays also. What happened to John Gray? Also some stuff written by my
Grandfather Miller has faded but I have another document that is
better.</span></p>
<p style="margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 0.96cm; text-indent: -0.53cm;"><span style="text-indent: -0.53cm;">It was only about 2018, getting obsessed with Banaba after
looking for a letter by my father, that I started to see (somewhat)
why people want to know their ancestors. To Maori who had</span></p>
<p style="margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 0.96cm; text-indent: -0.53cm;">
a more oral culture (although so did the English and their fore
people presumably Celtic peoples and even the Anglo Saxons and others
up to the 18th Century and more were mostly
</p>
<p style="margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 0.96cm; text-indent: -0.53cm;">
illiterate. The Moslems, the Ubayyads, invading Hispania with
the Berbers saw much of Europe as relatively uncivilised, or
barbaric. The Roman Empire had ceased as such around 475 CE.) their
'writing' were their carvings and oral retellings as had been those
of the Anglo Saxons and others of Europe and elsewhere. We have
somewhat lost that oral way, and that 'group' way of living. I
digress but these reflections come when I wonder why I or say Maori
take and interest in our ancestors and they their whakapapa as they
call it. But we cant trace all of it, of course. The history of just
humans is enormous. Is our record-keeping in vain? All our books? But
we love to record, to classify, to attempt some order. In doing so we
add a <span style="text-indent: -0.53cm;">kind of depth. Does it help us?</span></p>
<p style="margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 0.96cm; text-indent: -0.53cm;"><span style="text-indent: -0.53cm;">To the Banaban people, who have lost their unique language and
their land, and have been</span></p>
<p style="margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 0.96cm; text-indent: -0.53cm;">
caught in history's holocaust (although we "English"
have lost our languages several times).</p>
<p style="margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 0.96cm; text-indent: -0.53cm;">
At one stage we were probably Germanic-Celtic or some resultant
and Ireland, Scotland and Wales etc became more strongly Celtic. Have
we lost our language or has it been enriched via</p>
<p style="margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 0.96cm; text-indent: -0.53cm;">
the British Empire, the Norman invasion in 1066, the Viking and
other barbarian incursions and so on?* It is more cogent to Banaba as
the situation in the Pacific is quite different. The people on
Britannia never were displaced entirely from their lands as the
Banabans have been.</p>
<p style="margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 0.96cm; text-indent: -0.53cm;">
Few nations have.
</p>
<p style="margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 0.96cm; text-indent: -0.53cm;"><br /></p>
<p style="margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 0.96cm; text-indent: -0.53cm;">
* Talking with an academic recently, he pointed out that the English
language de facto really only formed ca. 1300 or so, perhaps earlier
but it has never been anything other than 'Old English' which is not
Celtic. From there there is a transformation similar to the way Latin
is seen in various forms in countries such as Italy or Spain. Various
indigenous languages and even whole peoples have disappeared. But
this is not universal.
</p>
<p style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</p></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /> <span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span>7<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiIGcO4Mg-LHq06kwjyW9aZy1CH6uFq1R-KYPpUa3B5IKjFv8md7vT3UjF75VC7ngK0h3zNXvku82f0vrUei7YUh0lsGYUe4HLHyCRFZEWABGBkZR2snLOeHZRr0T0TgqAIqstHC9w2zLbTOGAv4G10oNBZqR5zcPv5WFqMpRF5XHhpOEaTn7AfnBtEOg/s1612/New%20--%20Family%20Album%20Millers%20Grays%20Ocean%20Island%20jan%202020%20027b.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1612" data-original-width="946" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiIGcO4Mg-LHq06kwjyW9aZy1CH6uFq1R-KYPpUa3B5IKjFv8md7vT3UjF75VC7ngK0h3zNXvku82f0vrUei7YUh0lsGYUe4HLHyCRFZEWABGBkZR2snLOeHZRr0T0TgqAIqstHC9w2zLbTOGAv4G10oNBZqR5zcPv5WFqMpRF5XHhpOEaTn7AfnBtEOg/w376-h640/New%20--%20Family%20Album%20Millers%20Grays%20Ocean%20Island%20jan%202020%20027b.jpg" width="376" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><p style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"> 7 There were rail tracks that ran
hand or foot propelled small trains to move people and some
</p>
<p style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"> goods around Banaba. The
Banabans or others poled them along the rails.</p>
<p style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br /></p></div><span> <span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span>8</span><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgql8XM-qPAZyTAecgTt8QZlVdQP_w0nYJdpBRMyWLs4HZoRaodrl6f1ZZY8p0CglGDjsHGgZnRvJZcj0qnjiDdejVcXOlM0JQWMoybN0OBdso1V-O2bAaNOWNhzCnGP6yv-guXGgqmjf_r3uxhjcaFC2EooQpJbpDYJJkCstI8RUltB_IaNG3N0DRumQ/s2515/New%20--%20Family%20Album%20Millers%20Grays%20Ocean%20Island%20jan%202020%20026b.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1863" data-original-width="2515" height="474" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgql8XM-qPAZyTAecgTt8QZlVdQP_w0nYJdpBRMyWLs4HZoRaodrl6f1ZZY8p0CglGDjsHGgZnRvJZcj0qnjiDdejVcXOlM0JQWMoybN0OBdso1V-O2bAaNOWNhzCnGP6yv-guXGgqmjf_r3uxhjcaFC2EooQpJbpDYJJkCstI8RUltB_IaNG3N0DRumQ/w640-h474/New%20--%20Family%20Album%20Millers%20Grays%20Ocean%20Island%20jan%202020%20026b.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><p style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"> 8 This looks like what they called
the 'house boy' who worked as a servant aide to the English,
</p>
<p style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"> Australians, New Zealanders or
others there. Then it may be two school friends of my mother,
</p>
<p style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"> my mother and my grandmother.</p>
<p style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</p></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span>9<br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-DQYsKikweFNWBR5oT6wOQCQkpwtkQlZ4I_VL-XqdRK4anY1E9DXer6Um0YvmA_g2xqSgEFhPg8yH6dyPF9bM1ej5vQyA-8ISODdrXpwnNeaQ_BaWuGjuJXz5D2Hwwbo0Bg88nAJzzBEgOrqYaAjfzpoggC1dsj-csCcIVOlHtUCPY67mSVzZ0_OgQQ/s1487/New%20--%20Family%20Album%20Millers%20Grays%20Ocean%20Island%20jan%202020%20025%20cd.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1487" data-original-width="1212" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-DQYsKikweFNWBR5oT6wOQCQkpwtkQlZ4I_VL-XqdRK4anY1E9DXer6Um0YvmA_g2xqSgEFhPg8yH6dyPF9bM1ej5vQyA-8ISODdrXpwnNeaQ_BaWuGjuJXz5D2Hwwbo0Bg88nAJzzBEgOrqYaAjfzpoggC1dsj-csCcIVOlHtUCPY67mSVzZ0_OgQQ/w326-h400/New%20--%20Family%20Album%20Millers%20Grays%20Ocean%20Island%20jan%202020%20025%20cd.jpg" width="326" /></a></div><p align="JUSTIFY" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span></span></p><p align="JUSTIFY" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 0.91cm; margin-right: 0.29cm;">Oreba. "<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;"><span style="font-size: 13pt;"><i>When
Frank arrived they got a Banaban lady Oreba to look after him (both of
us). She was a dear & we all loved her. When they went to Sydney
on leave Oreba went too. But she was not happy at all! – Too cold
and she had to wear large shoes. So did we and [also] hated it!
Mother made us some flat shoes to arrive in...." </i></span></span></span><span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;"><span style="font-size: 13pt;">From
my mother's memoirs (above).</span></span></span><span style="font-size: 13pt;">
There are some descendants and relatives of Oreba on Rabi, Fiji. </span></p><br /><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span>10<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjlS_whN-XT4GPavbcrnIIaXlgrvEBcfNr5Z7_-SKP8gCz3-zCkhm1tl-liMTeNTgbNgyoAjrxCz1paY9ICyoH9PxcuAodMN2zMMAuxnGo4DbgxgKC1wI-IipilbanDoReAfHLawX4OjCaossES8oGYQNu7DDLEIPKGp055bFK8eer_TepTvUtYQvTQ4Q/s2467/New%20--%20Family%20Album%20Millers%20Grays%20Ocean%20Island%20jan%202020%20070b.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1572" data-original-width="2467" height="255" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjlS_whN-XT4GPavbcrnIIaXlgrvEBcfNr5Z7_-SKP8gCz3-zCkhm1tl-liMTeNTgbNgyoAjrxCz1paY9ICyoH9PxcuAodMN2zMMAuxnGo4DbgxgKC1wI-IipilbanDoReAfHLawX4OjCaossES8oGYQNu7DDLEIPKGp055bFK8eer_TepTvUtYQvTQ4Q/w400-h255/New%20--%20Family%20Album%20Millers%20Grays%20Ocean%20Island%20jan%202020%20070b.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><p align="JUSTIFY" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">This is the large meeting house for 'refuge' in many Kiribati places. Like the villages it is gone now. Known in Kiribati as a Maneaba</p><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span>11<br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhClcpCPkj4W2NezeTZaaxzwxJsLkh0bKhs4NG1EqzDqLpyBMfUI2qYRodYU-u6__wHPTDu29Q8aR7HhNw8U43VLqXAhHP_cKoHshvn-lxDqkx0slxSRGGM8wCaq1hQnLshru0Gx0VY6prQioV18qt7mr-QSQ5KeHs3eIQE8_JoVmUNvncucLhRt697fQ/s2430/New%20--%20Family%20Album%20Millers%20Grays%20Ocean%20Island%20jan%202020%20069b.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1618" data-original-width="2430" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhClcpCPkj4W2NezeTZaaxzwxJsLkh0bKhs4NG1EqzDqLpyBMfUI2qYRodYU-u6__wHPTDu29Q8aR7HhNw8U43VLqXAhHP_cKoHshvn-lxDqkx0slxSRGGM8wCaq1hQnLshru0Gx0VY6prQioV18qt7mr-QSQ5KeHs3eIQE8_JoVmUNvncucLhRt697fQ/w400-h266/New%20--%20Family%20Album%20Millers%20Grays%20Ocean%20Island%20jan%202020%20069b.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><span> </span><div>More village houses on Banaba, These are mostly destroyed as the villages and the people were forced to go to Rabi, Fiji. </div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /><p align="JUSTIFY" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span> </span><span> 12 </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><br /></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhiVAcBLnA7M3TiLKLubtHs6uRvQTbb4m8fi9zd4V0HRqgBxLw-HZpv6oY4yY-8WUwQ2HKuylbZ3Syg-fB837fDQp6zcVJCbtqmbDR_Bfqa7kEzY_ymx-tjbfxJYWVov_M0QnUi-BNU9VFYt_A1_Bc7FRcq2TkOSjZ55dlGFxWIMdKKsiLaeitp6XuFdQ/s2528/New%20--%20Family%20Album%20Millers%20Grays%20Ocean%20Island%20jan%202020%20068b.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1713" data-original-width="2528" height="434" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhiVAcBLnA7M3TiLKLubtHs6uRvQTbb4m8fi9zd4V0HRqgBxLw-HZpv6oY4yY-8WUwQ2HKuylbZ3Syg-fB837fDQp6zcVJCbtqmbDR_Bfqa7kEzY_ymx-tjbfxJYWVov_M0QnUi-BNU9VFYt_A1_Bc7FRcq2TkOSjZ55dlGFxWIMdKKsiLaeitp6XuFdQ/w640-h434/New%20--%20Family%20Album%20Millers%20Grays%20Ocean%20Island%20jan%202020%20068b.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">The above is Ooma village. Many of the coconut trees were destroyed by phosphate farming. Even in black and white the beauty of Banaba can be seen,</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><p></p><p align="JUSTIFY" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span>13<br /></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiA-jiWqQOFLzm6L7hvwpYAob-stve3rFfujkPlfd3Mft3teKecxJpShoTiM-Hc6po69Bn28cRS_UgixVq-49UhcAYWz-KN71jiHXeKUL59jDKIRa4eKfpfe-tQng1ZcxZ269xxUIJeWAo2IYOf5XQWAxOwIyP0WD35WCLz4MMxZ7NJ77xMEy8gHBg1vQ/s1755/New%20--%20Family%20Album%20Millers%20Grays%20Ocean%20Island%20jan%202020%20067b.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1755" data-original-width="1183" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiA-jiWqQOFLzm6L7hvwpYAob-stve3rFfujkPlfd3Mft3teKecxJpShoTiM-Hc6po69Bn28cRS_UgixVq-49UhcAYWz-KN71jiHXeKUL59jDKIRa4eKfpfe-tQng1ZcxZ269xxUIJeWAo2IYOf5XQWAxOwIyP0WD35WCLz4MMxZ7NJ77xMEy8gHBg1vQ/w270-h400/New%20--%20Family%20Album%20Millers%20Grays%20Ocean%20Island%20jan%202020%20067b.jpg" width="270" /></a></div><span> Limestone peaks associated with limestone and guano deposits.</span><p align="JUSTIFY" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span></p><p align="JUSTIFY" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span><br /></span></p><p align="JUSTIFY" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span> </span><span> <span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> 14</span></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7n8W8-YlO8Nu21aazy1btHgCQVdaH2PppNUK3SpRiHN-EmX5lCc8GB-NPrcRSNkRahys1kopSTm_Xe8q8M5WkC7Y6eIM85uOR61VUtZuMfN8Yapb8NmMq8109Uu_xGh89VWu0KLofdX58oLe7b_EqiBmDdONhAKlMZqkRqsdmGIsJETy7azCqpG_dzA/s2436/New%20--%20Family%20Album%20Millers%20Grays%20Ocean%20Island%20jan%202020%20066b.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1466" data-original-width="2436" height="386" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7n8W8-YlO8Nu21aazy1btHgCQVdaH2PppNUK3SpRiHN-EmX5lCc8GB-NPrcRSNkRahys1kopSTm_Xe8q8M5WkC7Y6eIM85uOR61VUtZuMfN8Yapb8NmMq8109Uu_xGh89VWu0KLofdX58oLe7b_EqiBmDdONhAKlMZqkRqsdmGIsJETy7azCqpG_dzA/w640-h386/New%20--%20Family%20Album%20Millers%20Grays%20Ocean%20Island%20jan%202020%20066b.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><p align="JUSTIFY" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span> This is a dramatically beautiful photograph. I will check the relevant photo album to see if there</span></p><p align="JUSTIFY" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span> are any extra comments about this photograph, its location etc. I possess a map done ca. the mid 1930s. More of the next photograph album has comments written on it. </span></p><p align="JUSTIFY" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span><span><br /></span></span></p><p align="JUSTIFY" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span><span><br /></span></span></p><p align="JUSTIFY" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span></span><span style="text-align: left;"> </span><span style="text-align: left;">15</span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEguM1AJyH7eyxnYDfZeMOAMcvJXl9lBrFYI3Gn8283NUWinVHSgVBtTwSeKPljUtYYPc7wUNv4fKwS2MjYbQNvGL0JGYYTQQOjWnRKfFpWSbxF9RzBcScyZJ82yfgbyUTie20t6PYD44ClyRK8JBKBKvazG0kGDo4qtpWGSUiNIH4ojcqfgfuxLPAO33w/s2386/New%20--%20Family%20Album%20Millers%20Grays%20Ocean%20Island%20jan%202020%20065b.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1477" data-original-width="2386" height="248" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEguM1AJyH7eyxnYDfZeMOAMcvJXl9lBrFYI3Gn8283NUWinVHSgVBtTwSeKPljUtYYPc7wUNv4fKwS2MjYbQNvGL0JGYYTQQOjWnRKfFpWSbxF9RzBcScyZJ82yfgbyUTie20t6PYD44ClyRK8JBKBKvazG0kGDo4qtpWGSUiNIH4ojcqfgfuxLPAO33w/w400-h248/New%20--%20Family%20Album%20Millers%20Grays%20Ocean%20Island%20jan%202020%20065b.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span></div><div> The caption here is; 'Loading from No 4 Jetty.</div><div><br /><p></p><p align="JUSTIFY" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span> </span><span> </span>16</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh93EuYNYH3Wzj4RpWfgmQZuY10SF_o6vckOHvy-Odc10tvlouxcueqtuEotBbxQQy3HK42iaEoDM0FnX5mn3GIk8CSb4KnB9Jpc8Ya7rLiD2DwEVil5nB68bOdKeRLrWQvswla3yUQ_EWmQi2RdS62sHZlzh9jTPhGOO4mBlkI0GT_pR_-jZcdKiWmmg/s2536/New%20--%20Family%20Album%20Millers%20Grays%20Ocean%20Island%20jan%202020%20060b.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1612" data-original-width="2536" height="406" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh93EuYNYH3Wzj4RpWfgmQZuY10SF_o6vckOHvy-Odc10tvlouxcueqtuEotBbxQQy3HK42iaEoDM0FnX5mn3GIk8CSb4KnB9Jpc8Ya7rLiD2DwEVil5nB68bOdKeRLrWQvswla3yUQ_EWmQi2RdS62sHZlzh9jTPhGOO4mBlkI0GT_pR_-jZcdKiWmmg/w640-h406/New%20--%20Family%20Album%20Millers%20Grays%20Ocean%20Island%20jan%202020%20060b.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">These are Banaban people not dressed as they dressed before the advent of missionaries etc. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Christian missionaries influenced this change in clothing. The wearing of 'mother hubbards' is</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">commented on in <i>Kiribati - Aspects of History by Gilbertese (Kiribati) people with various views.</i> It includes Banaba and the early disputes, as let us face it European capitalists set out with de facto, the</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">great aid in demoralizing the people of these islands, and the insidious and sometimes cynical destruction of their lands, customs, culture and eventually their descent into poverty and corruption. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">The motivation: greed for money and "advancement". That same greed that is leading us now, all of us</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">toward economic and ecological disaster, disease and war. Perhaps religion is one major disease in the Pacific, Imperialism another. Documents (using freedom of information powers) obtained by Vltchek gives a view that overall Pacific Island people felt better treated by the Germans and the Japanese than the New Zealanders, Australians, British, French and others. </div><p align="JUSTIFY" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br /></p><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span>17<br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgcstc9N8Dn0Pz1c4JLQ9YSfToZ74EfCkvbHT1ihYhUTRaTDxBTKr4qJlFHMGm7rhnARr9EuCBjdV8AR-4RcHRFczUiFpUvKL8yW9m5El8M8VFKhJSXBW4VWm7oe_SMAIbAKjt3vniwAOFUC_jIiZ22WSyVk5CNR0ghG5l0B94wiG6XmVi4gN-A7iCX4w/s2449/New%20--%20Family%20Album%20Millers%20Grays%20Ocean%20Island%20jan%202020%20059b.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2449" data-original-width="1646" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgcstc9N8Dn0Pz1c4JLQ9YSfToZ74EfCkvbHT1ihYhUTRaTDxBTKr4qJlFHMGm7rhnARr9EuCBjdV8AR-4RcHRFczUiFpUvKL8yW9m5El8M8VFKhJSXBW4VWm7oe_SMAIbAKjt3vniwAOFUC_jIiZ22WSyVk5CNR0ghG5l0B94wiG6XmVi4gN-A7iCX4w/w269-h400/New%20--%20Family%20Album%20Millers%20Grays%20Ocean%20Island%20jan%202020%20059b.jpg" width="269" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">A pathway near a Banaban village.</div><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><p></p><p align="JUSTIFY" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span><span> 18 </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span></span><br /></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgW4EWV3AZjXv0-yjFuQqWKCvZGpy-mrHQywXYuVOORBwIQQKqnx78onuQPHWMZcXJpsdek8aOiIg_DTBhUydRiS2mLHL7rqO6tsRp-mu5tOI2qewPIG_GgnHze-tN1DG-XSvMhQuiFFzEBK9wltHnVc2qvxKf-ryqJgajEH1H1VAfqEmaNEo-PJ17OYQ/s2373/New%20--%20Family%20Album%20Millers%20Grays%20Ocean%20Island%20jan%202020%20058b.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1442" data-original-width="2373" height="389" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgW4EWV3AZjXv0-yjFuQqWKCvZGpy-mrHQywXYuVOORBwIQQKqnx78onuQPHWMZcXJpsdek8aOiIg_DTBhUydRiS2mLHL7rqO6tsRp-mu5tOI2qewPIG_GgnHze-tN1DG-XSvMhQuiFFzEBK9wltHnVc2qvxKf-ryqJgajEH1H1VAfqEmaNEo-PJ17OYQ/w640-h389/New%20--%20Family%20Album%20Millers%20Grays%20Ocean%20Island%20jan%202020%20058b.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><p align="JUSTIFY" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> 18. Banaban children in the 1930s.</span></p><p align="JUSTIFY" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span><br /></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">19</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjonEqnbn2UEz4niZ0s50KJUnX8zBfZJv-p3-hT9zPkR3bJ7nHsAmzazuRVzJHqlYnKfdcHWR35MmCwZ3DKeLQtTihzEognfIoPUpBHS8olBFSjIs-qQ2bqJwLYGv6Age9QN8hwpuApVbrY1FrgpBK1ZRr_whIavFUKrv9LMEJVqStyl7Dxbq2RiflwDw/s2497/New%20--%20Family%20Album%20Millers%20Grays%20Ocean%20Island%20jan%202020%20057b.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1459" data-original-width="2497" height="374" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjonEqnbn2UEz4niZ0s50KJUnX8zBfZJv-p3-hT9zPkR3bJ7nHsAmzazuRVzJHqlYnKfdcHWR35MmCwZ3DKeLQtTihzEognfIoPUpBHS8olBFSjIs-qQ2bqJwLYGv6Age9QN8hwpuApVbrY1FrgpBK1ZRr_whIavFUKrv9LMEJVqStyl7Dxbq2RiflwDw/w640-h374/New%20--%20Family%20Album%20Millers%20Grays%20Ocean%20Island%20jan%202020%20057b.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Banaban fishermen.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">20</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjaLDNah2UPdm11L7xPM3oSyo_NApKl62r5LOPZ5N7OiVEfq6lwlYaS4WQnzq_GbYEUDhB3MawMOAHL6w1Rj5xpgs3KCMAmmv58uW1wGoBNcLK-pnZZ-soVpc5EU4bL11EaR2DV0UrVQ5lqgCsZO5Jn6c4a3eH6UsAf1g1oyyTOvTBGH6VLixR6EUTJQQ/s2560/New%20--%20Family%20Album%20Millers%20Grays%20Ocean%20Island%20jan%202020%20056b.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2560" data-original-width="1920" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjaLDNah2UPdm11L7xPM3oSyo_NApKl62r5LOPZ5N7OiVEfq6lwlYaS4WQnzq_GbYEUDhB3MawMOAHL6w1Rj5xpgs3KCMAmmv58uW1wGoBNcLK-pnZZ-soVpc5EU4bL11EaR2DV0UrVQ5lqgCsZO5Jn6c4a3eH6UsAf1g1oyyTOvTBGH6VLixR6EUTJQQ/w480-h640/New%20--%20Family%20Album%20Millers%20Grays%20Ocean%20Island%20jan%202020%20056b.jpg" width="480" /></a></div><div><br /></div><div> Police? On Banaba. </div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">21</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhokwTa3h_EkHVlDyM0zR2u4N3FxBXC7_oIGE6cqfkhBR8TFc0RFjkcNvo_tIlL2ecoU58EBFoNGw4QcI6oGfHwCgfVUJly6yRkLQi3F9nfpfUGJ8ay0lWDaVERvQQTEzu9nJI4ZZ1Vj-rC065SLFh4ag6xv7UxL6mc9tgxm7B0pomqdwFfJRVDWZ1Nmw/s2497/New%20--%20Family%20Album%20Millers%20Grays%20Ocean%20Island%20jan%202020%20055b.jpg" style="clear: left; display: inline; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1745" data-original-width="2497" height="448" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhokwTa3h_EkHVlDyM0zR2u4N3FxBXC7_oIGE6cqfkhBR8TFc0RFjkcNvo_tIlL2ecoU58EBFoNGw4QcI6oGfHwCgfVUJly6yRkLQi3F9nfpfUGJ8ay0lWDaVERvQQTEzu9nJI4ZZ1Vj-rC065SLFh4ag6xv7UxL6mc9tgxm7B0pomqdwFfJRVDWZ1Nmw/w640-h448/New%20--%20Family%20Album%20Millers%20Grays%20Ocean%20Island%20jan%202020%20055b.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"> A wedding of baptism of Europeans around the same time. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">22</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGQgXRhFZVc5LflRVZH3qyv6s_eM52T3uiVAT6cOpnL7esdLBZmfaqPvG5qAIC-kMLspOKoZk4-uOsmZN9GONWSxPk2QXNufCxwKDtoEwO0Hau9Z4xEOhZarTkpPYH5dxOVLEr_ahimyFWedJyV-NLLYvva06p2QsauoDpA7kMWMrYEw3uiVBod3xWSQ/s1774/New%20--%20Family%20Album%20Millers%20Grays%20Ocean%20Island%20jan%202020%20054e.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1774" data-original-width="1155" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGQgXRhFZVc5LflRVZH3qyv6s_eM52T3uiVAT6cOpnL7esdLBZmfaqPvG5qAIC-kMLspOKoZk4-uOsmZN9GONWSxPk2QXNufCxwKDtoEwO0Hau9Z4xEOhZarTkpPYH5dxOVLEr_ahimyFWedJyV-NLLYvva06p2QsauoDpA7kMWMrYEw3uiVBod3xWSQ/w416-h640/New%20--%20Family%20Album%20Millers%20Grays%20Ocean%20Island%20jan%202020%20054e.jpg" width="416" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"> I will check if there is any comment on this. Looks like a Banaban 'craftsman'.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"> 23</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEil4-UFQ7uLnrH6-ojUzlzixVLrk7p7AyfMmmge_Yp-h8Sxtz0PcWOwtk6-Gyb16lldmU_7GzjJrMqrAUEN04EaxO-AU7ceCuhKllYSSQhDaS05x1KtEy0_DXSrAZo6kN0pH732ICiZUSqkUseFTAUgZNSJBDFUf_VSB3hgumct0_j3UUj5Od4t6msxUg/s1791/New%20--%20Family%20Album%20Millers%20Grays%20Ocean%20Island%20jan%202020%20054d.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1791" data-original-width="1224" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEil4-UFQ7uLnrH6-ojUzlzixVLrk7p7AyfMmmge_Yp-h8Sxtz0PcWOwtk6-Gyb16lldmU_7GzjJrMqrAUEN04EaxO-AU7ceCuhKllYSSQhDaS05x1KtEy0_DXSrAZo6kN0pH732ICiZUSqkUseFTAUgZNSJBDFUf_VSB3hgumct0_j3UUj5Od4t6msxUg/w274-h400/New%20--%20Family%20Album%20Millers%20Grays%20Ocean%20Island%20jan%202020%20054d.jpg" width="274" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Banaban people by a boiler. Poss. abandoned.</div><div><br /></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span> </span>24<span> </span><span> </span><span> </span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqckVncer_T5yJoHa5ELIz3I2SK8br1VmMbyzTficCYjgoA3nJGbQW2mRbkdXiKqOci0HHy3BhLxBn_LpBPLNhylmPsI51dESmJz2op6-vzFu34FL50dGOEgFLu82Xg1d0t1uFGuFvWzxKXh2JcjbArgXAB8oOTCkvPCqf-prd3OJBfmG6b4OYq2YZJA/s2489/New%20--%20Family%20Album%20Millers%20Grays%20Ocean%20Island%20jan%202020%20053b.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1810" data-original-width="2489" height="466" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqckVncer_T5yJoHa5ELIz3I2SK8br1VmMbyzTficCYjgoA3nJGbQW2mRbkdXiKqOci0HHy3BhLxBn_LpBPLNhylmPsI51dESmJz2op6-vzFu34FL50dGOEgFLu82Xg1d0t1uFGuFvWzxKXh2JcjbArgXAB8oOTCkvPCqf-prd3OJBfmG6b4OYq2YZJA/w640-h466/New%20--%20Family%20Album%20Millers%20Grays%20Ocean%20Island%20jan%202020%20053b.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><span>British Australian NZ and other tradesmen worked along side Banabans. My mother always called them 'natives'. How well did the Europeans get on with the people? Many young men, called 'boys' worked </span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><span>as servants. Tradesmen such as my grandfather could live almost as the British did in India. My grandmother was born in India to a soldier of the Raj. 'The jewel in Queen Victoria's crown.' </span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><span><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><span><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><span> </span><span> </span><span>25</span><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxBzgAP16PkUOgrrTDMVB1S1lL7bZvgsGj1nUPbDTRSn9_x5eKl0E0pibu3xlnMNv2CPrq3atuGxU7Zt38XJu5qArm3xNB6u0jQN4DILUUcG9-Pm5t_kbNSUZbgo2rhx7ctg-PnKPSycJoaaAsBe1q_G10cN4iyjkRQ-nbzwZXz_eg9f9F-M5H-TZl3g/s2541/New%20--%20Family%20Album%20Millers%20Grays%20Ocean%20Island%20jan%202020%20052b.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1723" data-original-width="2541" height="434" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxBzgAP16PkUOgrrTDMVB1S1lL7bZvgsGj1nUPbDTRSn9_x5eKl0E0pibu3xlnMNv2CPrq3atuGxU7Zt38XJu5qArm3xNB6u0jQN4DILUUcG9-Pm5t_kbNSUZbgo2rhx7ctg-PnKPSycJoaaAsBe1q_G10cN4iyjkRQ-nbzwZXz_eg9f9F-M5H-TZl3g/w640-h434/New%20--%20Family%20Album%20Millers%20Grays%20Ocean%20Island%20jan%202020%20052b.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Europeans in the houses built for them. </div><div><br /></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> 26</span><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7b-FGWXgDeUPITqA_jLYYskA9G8V6sY45yNy3MlC5s_XAdnyH3bUSDmsPMz7c2JOHX615OB3anjMaUvf5_1qOig9wGtP1qiO2PVaK_4NNrBNLE5ri3uEMQZ5-xBFjisjowNJX3prARdPgi4RHYco182CInJmurMwkAgapqv7bxp8aEvf3iYbEpjfu9g/s1918/New%20--%20Family%20Album%20Millers%20Grays%20Ocean%20Island%20jan%202020%20051b.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1918" data-original-width="1529" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7b-FGWXgDeUPITqA_jLYYskA9G8V6sY45yNy3MlC5s_XAdnyH3bUSDmsPMz7c2JOHX615OB3anjMaUvf5_1qOig9wGtP1qiO2PVaK_4NNrBNLE5ri3uEMQZ5-xBFjisjowNJX3prARdPgi4RHYco182CInJmurMwkAgapqv7bxp8aEvf3iYbEpjfu9g/w319-h400/New%20--%20Family%20Album%20Millers%20Grays%20Ocean%20Island%20jan%202020%20051b.jpg" width="319" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">My grandfather and my mother. Ca. 1918.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><span> </span><span>27</span><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLskNgZVRu9DDQ9LNJR6iDcNyBoSL0sEfswNowe75ISntL04I-MiK_I3z4r1dn9GHzzEcmBP2B-UKl-h5T0w17rE5tWzJeEgs3wB51r1IHqQdHNHf1GEgWWdXpVFjM5MHZWj2KIxCZ2krl9xhhrkxFlu2cIYLC5ZNZWE3HG0QnpLsLhCvTznJQfawZ8A/s3607/New%20--%20Family%20Album%20Millers%20Grays%20Ocean%20Island%20jan%202020%20050b.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3607" data-original-width="2307" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLskNgZVRu9DDQ9LNJR6iDcNyBoSL0sEfswNowe75ISntL04I-MiK_I3z4r1dn9GHzzEcmBP2B-UKl-h5T0w17rE5tWzJeEgs3wB51r1IHqQdHNHf1GEgWWdXpVFjM5MHZWj2KIxCZ2krl9xhhrkxFlu2cIYLC5ZNZWE3HG0QnpLsLhCvTznJQfawZ8A/w410-h640/New%20--%20Family%20Album%20Millers%20Grays%20Ocean%20Island%20jan%202020%20050b.jpg" width="410" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><span>A Banaban girl. In some ways my mother and uncle had known no other life than</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><span>that on this 'Ocean Paradise'. The girl is in traditional clothes. </span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><span><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><span><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> 28</span><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhdb6cQyapfGm9HTCvfRlHPDXh0tpYyXJWRQGKpuMwX12YSoSgeQt24B-NetMN5-AfqZLpH0L0eCHdCTh4ZYG9FsHTw55AO7tRr8JZrtkQxMcDgayRY4FOmy3VkC2giZOgbtkZxa5rj2r8UlwQTNENYaHoRHhHlsFfZ6ziP3Ryk_msfqWmf35sACESFSA/s1885/New%20--%20Family%20Album%20Millers%20Grays%20Ocean%20Island%20jan%202020%20050%20de).jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1885" data-original-width="1245" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhdb6cQyapfGm9HTCvfRlHPDXh0tpYyXJWRQGKpuMwX12YSoSgeQt24B-NetMN5-AfqZLpH0L0eCHdCTh4ZYG9FsHTw55AO7tRr8JZrtkQxMcDgayRY4FOmy3VkC2giZOgbtkZxa5rj2r8UlwQTNENYaHoRHhHlsFfZ6ziP3Ryk_msfqWmf35sACESFSA/w422-h640/New%20--%20Family%20Album%20Millers%20Grays%20Ocean%20Island%20jan%202020%20050%20de).jpg" width="422" /></a></div><p align="JUSTIFY" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">The caption says: Joy (my mother Joy Miller) and Frank Miller (my uncle). 1926 is the year. So Frank was 6 or seven, and my mother about 9 years. </p><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span><span><br /></span></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span><span>29</span></span><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgyxVwRHUu_f36A2lNdigyZCXbIHorVjeP8KPOigA9rk7VxROIwmkYqR6_ePqo5hHK5vZ9gk4UDMndOWdCSctQbh1LqxA4h9WixaQVQ3bZc3cljEWGuaA3WbsTx_6IMGK-A--o6WynANOQ1x647bBGtRYXmGXkSpZyY4TCjSXlh0QEgIqkReb0u6BHzkA/s1108/New%20--%20Family%20Album%20Millers%20Grays%20Ocean%20Island%20jan%202020%20038b.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1108" data-original-width="700" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgyxVwRHUu_f36A2lNdigyZCXbIHorVjeP8KPOigA9rk7VxROIwmkYqR6_ePqo5hHK5vZ9gk4UDMndOWdCSctQbh1LqxA4h9WixaQVQ3bZc3cljEWGuaA3WbsTx_6IMGK-A--o6WynANOQ1x647bBGtRYXmGXkSpZyY4TCjSXlh0QEgIqkReb0u6BHzkA/w253-h400/New%20--%20Family%20Album%20Millers%20Grays%20Ocean%20Island%20jan%202020%20038b.jpg" width="253" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><span>The caption I have typed: "My mother on Banaba ca. 1935. This would make </span>her possibly 17 or 18. She finished High School in Kettering High School, England by 1931, when she was 14. The returned to Australia (holidays mostly at the end of year) and entered Firbank -- The Church of England Girls' Grammar School, Brighton, Melbourne, Australia. By or in 1935 she had left Firbank. She told me when she was ill, in fact on her 80th birthday -- I asked her why she was sad -- there had been an argument with our helper, who had 'scolded' her, saying she was lucky to be as old as she was, or something. True. But she had had a stroke and was confined to home. I had to help her. She also hired other help. She told me of her regret she had not been able to get into a Music School. She had done well in music like her cousin John Hawes. My grandfather refused this. She was to learn to do secretarial work and other such things. My mother played the piano beautifully (as it seemed to me as a boy) and had played even Chopin, who specialized in writing for the piano, although she said his music was almost the hardest to play. How did all this play out? </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;">I have spent a lot of time on this, but there is an issue here that Banaban people and others will recognize. Of the Banaban photos my knowledge of those and indeed of Banaba is still not good enough to give longer 'reports', and some of these photographs may go back to 1918 or so. They are from 104 to about 86 years old. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><span><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><span><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><span> </span><span> </span><span> 30</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjyITSsvqX2GrtPA3rsAJrGXdj5-9PVPyzCMhHxPf_c9sLrCJ1sBRmhRfTeGP0S4BoR8x1Tpi3g8uvvJ3sV1w1Eo7EFSuP1znEyn73s_Vx5fT3tab1L0bXP2WFxNSh5X1rhHAufalq15tvVQoffwBv7StIsqofOoQ_SBMKLuXDYhAjfRyNWCx_MCXKHjA/s2560/New%20--%20Family%20Album%20Millers%20Grays%20Ocean%20Island%20jan%202020%20034.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1920" data-original-width="2560" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjyITSsvqX2GrtPA3rsAJrGXdj5-9PVPyzCMhHxPf_c9sLrCJ1sBRmhRfTeGP0S4BoR8x1Tpi3g8uvvJ3sV1w1Eo7EFSuP1znEyn73s_Vx5fT3tab1L0bXP2WFxNSh5X1rhHAufalq15tvVQoffwBv7StIsqofOoQ_SBMKLuXDYhAjfRyNWCx_MCXKHjA/w400-h300/New%20--%20Family%20Album%20Millers%20Grays%20Ocean%20Island%20jan%202020%20034.JPG" width="400" /></a></div><p align="JUSTIFY" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">Happier days with friends for my mother, probably summer about 1936 or so on Banaba.</p><p align="JUSTIFY" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br /></p><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span>31</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhlBu6aD2B5FSJoydnS3MvI90X7cdmWIVO6krOlEcr6pt8_5ZVXU13a7QYh1hS4nJQoYS1LMH8VenmTXL6QzUezrnBLL7Bk120FNPVAhGCokRyauNB7_OdCWWfBNLBLRBMbJLBAm5Tj8sGmUqiu41U80JlEpokpl-oPflZs9e5X5sbTJgOyrl9lTRsaig/s1569/New%20--%20Family%20Album%20Millers%20Grays%20Ocean%20Island%20jan%202020%20029b.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1569" data-original-width="1059" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhlBu6aD2B5FSJoydnS3MvI90X7cdmWIVO6krOlEcr6pt8_5ZVXU13a7QYh1hS4nJQoYS1LMH8VenmTXL6QzUezrnBLL7Bk120FNPVAhGCokRyauNB7_OdCWWfBNLBLRBMbJLBAm5Tj8sGmUqiu41U80JlEpokpl-oPflZs9e5X5sbTJgOyrl9lTRsaig/w270-h400/New%20--%20Family%20Album%20Millers%20Grays%20Ocean%20Island%20jan%202020%20029b.jpg" width="270" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">My mother and friends on Banaba.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">32</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgApOo3qnaZYv3jI384ZHpGDVMy-9vC3D1XYHdZzG5pDkqSBnklUCHaMnM0e5w-a0-kCE_T994GdRlwH2dREjCqwgmw0WHnU5N6QxkAacdeAcMXQkQtah78JJB98C9X6hM-nNNztVEvyo9zFYhRvlAJ4BjPTylsHOD8IFvNQwSt7ykeJpXjGho7XEoWog/s1679/New%20--%20Family%20Album%20Millers%20Grays%20Ocean%20Island%20jan%202020%20029a.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1679" data-original-width="1191" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgApOo3qnaZYv3jI384ZHpGDVMy-9vC3D1XYHdZzG5pDkqSBnklUCHaMnM0e5w-a0-kCE_T994GdRlwH2dREjCqwgmw0WHnU5N6QxkAacdeAcMXQkQtah78JJB98C9X6hM-nNNztVEvyo9zFYhRvlAJ4BjPTylsHOD8IFvNQwSt7ykeJpXjGho7XEoWog/w454-h640/New%20--%20Family%20Album%20Millers%20Grays%20Ocean%20Island%20jan%202020%20029a.jpg" width="454" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">As in 31 above. Here some of the Europeans are being 'driven' about Banaba.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">33.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhiLkX5YsVq41Y_WOSQS656GZtz3G41w_mSxNzv0ajIi194Q0uxgFVySdbOny1lubGiQPT_c1z1I1UgG0bAbuCJkACHYTMRlvSjQaGuUc6DYte5lMABtARTzKd67FhrxQT8oqV3vK2EOSibmlBQRbdVrZsfaNqtOU772K1KozT-T73hCyHYayk8j224fA/s1705/New%20--%20Family%20Album%20Millers%20Grays%20Ocean%20Island%20jan%202020%20028ab.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1705" data-original-width="1189" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhiLkX5YsVq41Y_WOSQS656GZtz3G41w_mSxNzv0ajIi194Q0uxgFVySdbOny1lubGiQPT_c1z1I1UgG0bAbuCJkACHYTMRlvSjQaGuUc6DYte5lMABtARTzKd67FhrxQT8oqV3vK2EOSibmlBQRbdVrZsfaNqtOU772K1KozT-T73hCyHYayk8j224fA/w446-h640/New%20--%20Family%20Album%20Millers%20Grays%20Ocean%20Island%20jan%202020%20028ab.jpg" width="446" /></a></div>Banabans and Europeans seem here "connected" amiably together. <br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /> ------------------------------------------------- ----------------------------------------- -------------------------<br /><br />BECAUSE the MILLER and TAYLOR FAMILIES were 'involved' the DRAMA or the STORY of the<p></p><p align="JUSTIFY" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">ISLAND, the tiny island near NAURU which Ellis also had an interest in I will sample the Taylor</p><p align="JUSTIFY" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">and Miller and some photographs by Ellis himself. Ellis was one of those self-made men, that say US</p><p align="JUSTIFY" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">Capitalism etc admires. But he wasn't without inherent qualities. His books and those of Maude who was more of an anthropologist are worth looking into as are various books on the Pacific and NZ etc. And indeed it all starts to widen. We cannot separate European or African or.....you name it....history, from that of that of the Pacific. At school I had a choice between science and history and geography but I cant see why that was the case (of course if I had put my mind to it I would have just plowed on studying things -- nevertheless -- it has happened that world (and personal) history has come to interest me more and more. Nevertheless I feel that all possible areas of learning have potential value even if they do no more than open up interesting events. Also the history of say Europe, Asia and NZ is connected in complex but also surprising ways.</p><p align="JUSTIFY" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">Margaret Mead, studying Samoa and and New Guinea added insights as did Apirana Buck and other Maori and Polynesian scholars and writers. Futa Helu of Tonga is one. There are academics from Banaba. But also we have the NZ-Samoan writer such as Albert Wendt. There are many writers of the Pacific and NZ. But understanding the world and history also requires knowledge of European, American, Russian and Chinese histories...and many others. Also my study of biology, mathematics (not to a high level as such) and other subjects has aided me. I see big gaps even in my knowldege of European history. But history I have come to see increasingly is increasingly important in at least understanding something of what happened in history. I believe my uncle Frank Miller was searching for some of those things adn indeed part of his own past. He was, somewhat like my mother, in a unique case: born in Banaba (Ocean Island he knew it as and I did for years altho occasionally I heard 'Banabans') he was also educated in England. Somehow Frank Miller epitomizes the complex historical paradox of what is too glibly called 'Colonialism' (although that process occurred throughout the world). But it also points to the paradoxes of human 'development' and the way societies change and grow or not with different ethnicities. NZ has two languages as does Fiji, now I am not sure. I think the official or unofficial official languages of Fiji could be English, Fijian and Hindi but there are Moslem Indian descendants and others in Fiji. The world is becoming rapidly multi-ethnic and we merge also. How do we 'steer the future'. (It is clear that the war in Europe is strange and tragic war, but in some ways it seems a 'war of nostalgia' of an antiquated almost quaint -- albeit terrible and savage -- war that mimics the old British and even the early Russian Empire's (pre-the 1918 Revolution) endless and often desultory desire for expansion. The Russian soldiers always knew there was never to be any permanent situation. This is drawn attention to in stories by Tolstoy of wars in the Caucasus, or by Lermontov and wider issues were covered by the Ukrainian born Gogol. The (frequently as brilliant as those of Conrad) stories of Kipling, despite that "Imperialist's" prejudices and quirks, makes one aware that the British were always only temporary in India. Now the US sit in The Marshall islands, the French in Tahiti. NZ's rather absurd military makes gestures (mostly futile) to Afghanistan or earlier Vietnam etc and Samoa (where they mucked things up badly). Banabans have survived the destruction of their land which is, for them, like that experienced by many other indigenous peoples and indeed Europeans or Chinese or Africans.....ad infinitem. But Banaba (and also somewhat Nauru and Kiribati in general and the Pacific in general) epitomizes the survival of a kind of slow holocaust caused almost absent-mindedly by Capitalism or is it the 'spirit of adventure and enterprise'. Nevertheless, we need to take note of the Pacific as my friend Dr. Scott Hamilton has done, firstly with his focus on Tonga and the university their built by Futa Hellu, Called Atienisi. </p><p align="JUSTIFY" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"> And we Pakeha or Palangi of NZ and elsewhere need, if we need anything, to know our and others history and that of NZ, Australia and the Pacific. We need to try to understand the world.</p><p align="JUSTIFY" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"> And what is called Whanau or family or common group of people working and living together -- has become a powerful term used more and more in NZ. And that includes my own: that of the Taylors, Millers, Joys, Grays and others. Indeed we are of the human family....</p><p align="JUSTIFY" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"> <span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> MILLER-TAYLORS (more or less random & limited selection, I will compile a more extensive one from more of the Albums later). [I'LL POST THIS NOW BUT ADD THESE AND SOME MORE BANABA ETC POSTS BELOW BUT THIS CAN BE CONSIDERED PART ONE, SO THEY WILL BE IN ANOTHER POST OR OR I WILL ADD TO THIS POST]</span></p><p align="JUSTIFY" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span>[There are more images from Banaba I need to process and add back into here.]</span></p><p align="JUSTIFY" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span> _____________________________________________________________________ </span></p><p align="JUSTIFY" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span> FOR NOW I REALISE THERE IS A LOT OF WORK TO INCLUDE THE OTHER PHOTOGRAPHS SO I WILL PUBLISH THIS AND EDIT IT AND ADD THINGS OR DO A FEW OTHER POSTS. I ALSO WANT TO DO SOME REVIEWS ETC ON THIS BLOG. NOW I WILL PUT THE NUMBERING ABOVE THIS. </span></p><p align="JUSTIFY" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span> </span></p><p align="JUSTIFY" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span><br /></span></p><p align="JUSTIFY" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br /><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><br /></p></div>Richardhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10272507198753290435noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4271780116609645495.post-3393619411486258782021-02-20T02:56:00.101-08:002021-12-25T04:50:30.072-08:00Mrs Fowler, Dick Fowler or Rewi Kemp & the PYM in the 'DAYS OF PROTEST' 1969-70 onto 1981 and on ... <p><span style="font-size: x-large;"> <span>This Post is the first since, I think 2014 when I stopped selling books. I also set up my own library of </span></span><span style="font-size: xx-large;"> </span><span style="font-size: large;">approx. 3000 books. This deals with "the personal", an arbitrary section of The Infinite Project. I'll publish the text, see how it looks and add images. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: x-large;">This Blog is part of EYELIGHT and also part of the Infinite Project but here I am talking to people</span></p><p><span style="font-size: x-large;">in the normal way of Blogs which will either give the theory of what I do overall with EYELIGHT and hence the Infinite Project. Important for example is "The Personal". This was one of the fairly arbitrary categories I took via Bernstein (an essay of his) and the practice of Zukofsky and many others. Here I think of both his 80 Flowers and "A". But there are many other contributing factors here. Barthes' 'Death of the Author" essay and his books and much else. (One interest I have is in inter-textuality, deliberate plagiarism and also say Kenneth Goldsmith's "Uncreative Writing". The poet Fitterman is also interesting to me as is Reznikoff (of, say, 'Testimony') and there is much that can feed into my work). Much else. I assume nothing. Anything can happen. I don't have to have a reason. Nor am I trying for "stardom" or to "save the planet" etc (not that I am callous about various social-political environmental issues, but it is all more complex than any simplistic approach. Philosophy is involved which implies both ethics and metaphysics and much else. These ideas I will expand on. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: x-large;">But first I have to catch up on some "news" which has become also a memoir. Also I want to do some more reviews and other things here. Philosophic comments. If people do comment on here, when I get to it, (I can eliminate spam), then I will reply and I don't mind criticism. Preferably friendly criticism. And comments, with permission could theoretically be incorporated into the text. One person who used to comment on my other EYELIGHT Blog, who I know (or knew?), in that person's case the comments were interesting so I have incorporated them. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: x-large;">_____________________________________ _____________________________________________</span></p><p style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><b>Mrs. Fowler and 'Rewi Kemp'. The
Protest Days:</b></span></p>
<p style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><b> To be a or not to be a Communist? The
Struggle.</b></span></p>
<p style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br />
</span></p><p style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh70KzJCcc2uhZMz-NDfmqQg4shjVBj7uGoPQwRIr3JrM8Vq6u9geSywIBH5wUIq63PMj97j5MeZxT2xJciUr_kJcaB3IuiJFBUDjgnotYBbKtPRELTbngjTqYND1QREAFaV1hcLyx4IvL3/s2048/Personal+-+Mrs+Fowler+the+70s+Dick+Jim+Me+etc+001b%2529.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1363" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh70KzJCcc2uhZMz-NDfmqQg4shjVBj7uGoPQwRIr3JrM8Vq6u9geSywIBH5wUIq63PMj97j5MeZxT2xJciUr_kJcaB3IuiJFBUDjgnotYBbKtPRELTbngjTqYND1QREAFaV1hcLyx4IvL3/w266-h400/Personal+-+Mrs+Fowler+the+70s+Dick+Jim+Me+etc+001b%2529.jpg" width="266" /></span></a></div><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /> <span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> <span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span>Cecil Fowler</span></span></span><p></p><p style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> 29 June 1921 -- 18 July 2014</span><span> </span> </span><span> </span><br /></span></p>
<p style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">I was thinking around 2014 as I looked
at my address book that probably, as in many cases, Mrs. Fowler (people called her
Cecil) was surely dead. I was wrong but not too long after a notice
came from Barry Lee and his wife concerning the recent death (18th
July 2014) of this much loved and very caring, extraordinary,
courageous and intelligent woman, which came from the daughter of
Cecil Fowler. Her daughter was the brother of my friend Dick Fowler
c.1969 and on. I and others called him Dick Fowler. He introduced
himself by this name. Later he changed his name to Rewi Kemp.</span></p>
<p style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><br /></span></p><div style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhKfdF14uda8lhJH8kblIejNOdDuRI9xg2eIEkAK70KhB-2bmsLgQ1EnGbCMzKm6rizNzZlm14WH2uS_1HSuFP_feaP467n6z3aaVuDamu2MtMigZkqNEV0WVXBhZVM4ksVTtblSlyrMoa/s2048/Personal+-+Mrs+Fowler+the+70s+Dick+Jim+Me+etc+003.JPG"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" height="262" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhKfdF14uda8lhJH8kblIejNOdDuRI9xg2eIEkAK70KhB-2bmsLgQ1EnGbCMzKm6rizNzZlm14WH2uS_1HSuFP_feaP467n6z3aaVuDamu2MtMigZkqNEV0WVXBhZVM4ksVTtblSlyrMoa/w320-h262/Personal+-+Mrs+Fowler+the+70s+Dick+Jim+Me+etc+003.JPG" width="320" /></span></a></div><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhR_-cSv6wwOzJthcAi3T9s67SkOZO1dUN7CzWcpie9SCZdTE9qTIQ5Zx-9kIhV4gmbAWYHzCAlHJz8i6yGkqC9LdyWQJ0X2yazuPT42Upg1y129CT-Go0E5v6cIS_xxg1GGdKX4_epm_D/s2048/Personal+-+Mrs+Fowler+the+70s+Dick+Jim+Me+etc+002d%2529.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1674" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhR_-cSv6wwOzJthcAi3T9s67SkOZO1dUN7CzWcpie9SCZdTE9qTIQ5Zx-9kIhV4gmbAWYHzCAlHJz8i6yGkqC9LdyWQJ0X2yazuPT42Upg1y129CT-Go0E5v6cIS_xxg1GGdKX4_epm_D/w525-h640/Personal+-+Mrs+Fowler+the+70s+Dick+Jim+Me+etc+002d%2529.jpg" width="525" /></span></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">I have got more information about Mrs Fowler which adds to this which I know very much</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">is 'about' myself and Rewi Kemp or Dick Fowler and the 'protest days'. Here I want to add again</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">the funeral notice. If I haven't said, there were many many people at her celebration. I saw many I </span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">recognised from many sides of the coin so to speak. Cecil affected many people from many</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">places and in many activities. Some perhaps shared an interest in China and perhaps protest or just social justice or ideas. One was a well known artist-artisan others I recognised from my days reading</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">poetry at Poetry Live. That came later, as in these days while I wrote poetry I gave them away or</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">I took little interest in what I had written. All was focused on the dream of a 'better World'.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">And many just liked her for her humour and interest. Here are some notices that show some</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">aspects of Mrs Fowler:</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjbO1wJsLNE7j8dVpzp-YONXGJyu2r8gJ3xsnJaUDQA3Bta0JYmYMmjwgZ_DRxf1jXl6hkFF0a2OkoNlCNdAbDF0XmFvgGod9ZnpNOac9KHdX-P2JOFEHVjiCeJD2mdTJ_fTClEkGknKykX/s1576/Personal+--+Protest+days+Mrs+Fowler+%2526+Jenny+etc+016b.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1182" data-original-width="1576" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjbO1wJsLNE7j8dVpzp-YONXGJyu2r8gJ3xsnJaUDQA3Bta0JYmYMmjwgZ_DRxf1jXl6hkFF0a2OkoNlCNdAbDF0XmFvgGod9ZnpNOac9KHdX-P2JOFEHVjiCeJD2mdTJ_fTClEkGknKykX/w640-h480/Personal+--+Protest+days+Mrs+Fowler+%2526+Jenny+etc+016b.jpg" width="640" /></span></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">This was the letter telling me of the sad news from Mrs Fowler's son in law and her daughter Anna. Rewi Alley, a New Zealander who lived much of his life in China and was involved in assisting the development of that nation, wrote on his experiences in China. The school where donations could be made was in his honour. Here is a newspaper notice: </span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"> <span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhu7yawV4ACWhLy1sg2lx7d8plhnIGJWmuz9FFPzOXMiIwJ6miLhg66V6iO5f8CFSZMkhJhB6jN7fdu0dOpWQ3VFGp-Wjj4G33l0hbObKninumpLUGl0phyWqzsj4akDisWF2cQNmnZDaOg/s1646/Personal+--+Protest+days+Mrs+Fowler+%2526+Jenny+etc+007a.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1646" data-original-width="1070" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhu7yawV4ACWhLy1sg2lx7d8plhnIGJWmuz9FFPzOXMiIwJ6miLhg66V6iO5f8CFSZMkhJhB6jN7fdu0dOpWQ3VFGp-Wjj4G33l0hbObKninumpLUGl0phyWqzsj4akDisWF2cQNmnZDaOg/w416-h640/Personal+--+Protest+days+Mrs+Fowler+%2526+Jenny+etc+007a.jpg" width="416" /></a></div><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> Of her it says that she was '...a leader of social change and lover of people, during her lifetime </span></span><span style="font-size: xx-large;">she worked tirelessly in Trade Aid, the Council for Civil Liberties, the NZ China Friendship Society, and the Women's International League for Peace and Freedom. She campaigned for peace, racial equality, and a "first class library" for Mt. Roskill among other causes. </span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"> '....[she was] ahead of her time and lived life to the fullest as a teacher, gardener, world backpacker, news addict, social advocate and generous dinner party host. She loved mixing with the </span><span style="font-size: xx-large;">young and young at heart, and discussing the world and society....' </span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"> Born in 1921 (as far as I can ascertain), Cecil would have been 18 at the start of WWII. She was English and thus not far from the Nazis and their terrible threat. The possibility they could have overwhelmed England and indeed much of the World was not impossible. Many in those days shifted</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">politically to the left (it seems that for intellectuals and others following or around WWI many chose either a move towards, Socialism or to Fascism and there were variations in between) ... but for many Marxism seemed to offer hope against militarism. Later by the 50s anti-Communism (for which for those who watch Kennedy's deranged speeches leading up to his own assassination, will know became a fanatical obsession for especially the ruling classes of the United States and other nations. I recall how the US Reader's Digest and other magazines and our newsmedia and even once a NZ Military man (Maori as it happened) told us how the Chinese could or would take over the world step by step. In the Herald, always -- and even now -- a very conservative paper, always wrote about or depicted China as red and evil, in the Digest they were doing terrible things to missionaries and at the movies we saw air </span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">battles between -- always -- evil looking Chinese (we thought they were, then I had not heard of Korea), flying Migs -- the good looking and kind and heroic Americans always won and we cheered. The world was being brainwashed that China was evil, the US the land of the Free and so on. This was nonsense, but the US, the then major Capitalist (Imperialist in Marxist technical terms) nation, was gripped by a fanatical anti-Communist movement. Senator McCarthy headed this and it did a lot of damage. The US world policies, and that propaganda against Communism --- for this read the people of the world and the working class --- this remains. The fear of Communism is as strong as ever. This is why unions have been hugely weakened or eliminated and even in NZ people are convinced that private companies are better than public. It is the opposite. There have been no real [essential] positive changes in NZ since 1960. And neither Labour nor National have achieved much. Throughout the world we can nod to Rousseau's introduction to his 'Social Contract'....' Man is born free, but everywhere is in chains.' Written before the French Revolution which Rousseau didn't live to see (and much of Rousseau's writings, while important overall, are like those of Plato, full of holes -- in both cases ridiculous contradictions and rhetoric. Nevertheless he initiated much to do with modern philosophy and some good ideas in social thinking. In his day 'Man' excluded women. But de facto it means 'All People'. </span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><span> For Mrs Fowler to place herself on the left, to oppose racism in South Africa and New Zealand and other places, to work for peace in a world that was almost always in some kind of war leading up to the Vietnam War and beyond; and in a world where Capitalism still runs virtually all, and people believe they have an actual 'democracy' (there is no such thing in the world) -- this was a courageous person. And thus I knew her. <span> </span><span> </span><span> </span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span> </span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></div><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQ1AL4HSuJ0e0RCDWNKbSxNl1wc_mSkL4MMyWMGXFaUKxIffcs6HdqU0kMsgyFC8ch4PZji7cZouvRMJ-HbSCL1z2q_Qp_m1INx1nRg6c_M8iayqkxO0xvzQ4GOE5nXHEUbUzVnkodZnn6/s2048/Personal+-+Mrs+Fowler+the+70s+Dick+Jim+Me+etc+002c%2529.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1392" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQ1AL4HSuJ0e0RCDWNKbSxNl1wc_mSkL4MMyWMGXFaUKxIffcs6HdqU0kMsgyFC8ch4PZji7cZouvRMJ-HbSCL1z2q_Qp_m1INx1nRg6c_M8iayqkxO0xvzQ4GOE5nXHEUbUzVnkodZnn6/s320/Personal+-+Mrs+Fowler+the+70s+Dick+Jim+Me+etc+002c%2529.jpg" /></span></a></div><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span><p style="margin-bottom: 0cm; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"> I met Dick (Cecil's son who helped with his sister Anna and others to start the PYM in 1969 -- here I have acknowledge some things re Dick or Rewi. Dick had deep problems I think, I guess here, in that for reasons I have no knowledge of, his father and mother separated. I don't know but some of the difficulties his father (a scientist) had was brought about by inquitous actions by the Security sevices -- I forget whether this was NZ or Australia where I think they both were. But at a memorial for Mrs Fowler this was revealed. It shocked people who perhaps were not very political. Dick spoke well at that memorial at Eden gardens, many came there -- she affected people of all views [my own views and feelings are complex and conflicted even torn inside -- either toward the passion for "progress" and so on I felt in what I call 'the protest days' -- I almost feel that in some basic sense my change to a more complex way of looking at things is a retreat, or a greater and deeper view of the world via epistemology and philosophy I studied in general in the 90s -- and yet some of those questions echo perhaps Dick Fowler's ambiguities and uncertainties -- I knew him as some one extraordinary, but I knew his faults, in fact they echoed some I had.]</span></p><p style="margin-bottom: 0cm; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></p><p style="margin-bottom: 0cm; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"> In my case while I always worked in those days I also began to have complex fears and doubts -- mine come from my focus on death. This has been my central fascination or horror in my life -- which is why, as well as my political "side" there is this ambiguous being who believes in nothing. {I will write about my severe mental collapse that occurred in 1967 in another Blog Post} ..... believes, in a deep sense nothing. Who knows nothing and can, in a deep sense, never know anything. How does this help me evaluate Dick? Later he was involved in some dubious activities. As far as I know about that, I did know that Dick had been in jail -- he indicated how awful jail was by one statement and gesture -- as far as I know of that episode in some ways it reflects possibly back to some kind of psychological issues of an almost Freudian nature. In simple terms Dick Fowler I feel had a passion for knowledge and politics and much else, but something in his early years or maybe something inherent led him into a state of doubt, to a state of procrastination and an ability to dupe himself. Barry Lee has apprised me of more aspects of this side of Dick. I take his points. But I saw Dick in a time when I thought more strongly about injustice etc etc and when I was kind of "new to the world" and I did see, contrasting with those negations, many great qualities, a sense of humour, and indeed a deep concern for what he felt was right. More of this I have written already, this is a kind of interjection. But explains one of the puzzles I have -- for me there can be a God, however I know -- in so far as I can know -- which paradoxically I cant in an absolute sense -- that this leads to a kind of, well something analogous to Hegel's dialectic where Being against Nothingness is not an example of an exclusive OR -- (Hegel's ideas, his logic etc, and his belief in an Absolute Geist say of History or of Nature etc influenced Karl Marx to develop his dialectical Materialism --- but I cannot escape a sense, and at the funeral -- I disagree with "celebrations of life" (a funeral is a funeral) -- it was a funeral; I disagree with a kind of Stoicism that ignores or is ignored by those who completely reject the possible existence of what I call the Mystery. I have read Marcus Aurelius, and great is his philosophic diary, but I have read many of complex essays of Montaigne who influenced Shakespeare -- Montaigne was of Keat's view, via his (Keat's) famous 'Negative Capability' re Shakespeare of the power of being in a state of doubt and uncertainty. In fact that subjunctive is a great creative power. So what wasn't spoken of (and which thus via a kind of Derrridean absence/presence complex, in a real sense, at Cecil's funeral - was Death. Death is that which nothing can overcome -- it is all obliterating and there is nothing -- for human beings....there is nothing more terrible. This, in some psychological-metaphysical way is ignored by those who, believing in human Progress (there is none, there is only change), omit that great Significance in our lives. It seems, not only at a funeral of "radicals" but almost by all "modern" humans, to be a great Absence left unspoken. The life is celebrated or be-grieved but we are observing an absurdity, an impossibility -- and we need to mourn to wail to scream -- for death, even in the fact of a soul or some afterlife or not -- remains the Great Enigma before which all those positive acts and actions disappear. The being is gone - to mourn and to celebrate are equally empty -- we each know or should that thousands of Empires hundreds of Marxian or Hegelian or Islamic or Atheistic years may pass but as in Boethius on Fame, it is as a point, a punctum -- a nothing. And no one can deal with the immense horror of non-existence, or of some terrible after-exist; for the Nothing, even coupled with Being, stands smiling cynically -- perhaps like a dark Fortunatus and watching what is Futility. Boethius talking to himself, talking de facto to and through Philosophy Herself was in the captivity of the vital but barbarous Gothic-Roman Emperor Theodoric, who eventually, suspecting his Christian-Stoic yet ambiguous, and perhaps to him magus-like ideas, had him garotted as a sudden solution. We cannot thus 'venerate' Boethius, and surely even less Socrates, oppposed to democracy, his arguments dubious....but his significance in some kind of chain of 'thinkers' we value as seeming to enhance our culture, whatever that is..... Thoughts of this nature occur to me at all funerals -- but especially at one that claims some 'Progress' and avoids the reality and mystery and awfulness of death. This Thing obliterates all done by humans. Or it can be thus thought about.] [[And, indeed, I digress.]]</span></p><p style="margin-bottom: 0cm; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">To return from this, my (partly) experience (internal) at the funeral. As I say there is or was a kind of deep divide in myself and Dick. Dick's resolution of it was through activity in life, in politics etc but these are connected to psychology. Perhaps something related to a kind of Freudian thing. Freud still stands in history -- his influence is still complex and puzzling. He started something -- re this see<i> The Denial of Death</i> by Ernest Becker (Pulitzer Prize c. 1976) ---------</span></p><p style="margin-bottom: 0cm; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Denial_of_Death">The Denial of Death - Wikipedia</a> </span></p><p style="margin-bottom: 0cm; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"> I knew Bill Lee
(Leader of PYM (Progressive Youth Movement)) and his brother Barry.
(Barry is the husband of Rewi's sister Anna.) Mrs Fowler was called
'Cecil', but I never addressed her with that name. (In my youth -- especially perhaps my self with all relatives English -- apart from my siblings: it was not the right thing to address people or refer to them by their first names. Friends yes, but not a child of her or her parents): I used the term
'Mrs.' Both Barry and Bill Lee were at my High School, Tamaki
College. Around 1960 Deidre Kirton organised the Tamaki Junior Chess
Club. There was already a Senior Chess Club that met at Tamaki
College. Deirdre later became the wife of Greer Twiss, the sculptor,
who taught with at Tamaki Intermediate School, as did Greer Twiss.
Greer Twiss was our art teacher. The boys in our class used to call
him 'Mr Twisted' and I recall thinking that he had to become someone
'great' with his pale features and strange shock of red hair.</span></p><p style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVfifPglQXbxuCUokhzNTfLyzyudLbfJWt0KBIZIBWUYRFwdR9kGDM12k31HC6ZcU975qs5KaQjaPLoxUGZbuHZuguOETfbU-HzRdeAMQAMu2h4IOB3adKz75lf8AyKazyeS7n949sPEKw/s240/Greer+Twiss+-+Sculptor+2+NZ.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><img border="0" data-original-height="240" data-original-width="180" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVfifPglQXbxuCUokhzNTfLyzyudLbfJWt0KBIZIBWUYRFwdR9kGDM12k31HC6ZcU975qs5KaQjaPLoxUGZbuHZuguOETfbU-HzRdeAMQAMu2h4IOB3adKz75lf8AyKazyeS7n949sPEKw/w240-h320/Greer+Twiss+-+Sculptor+2+NZ.jpg" width="240" /></span></a></div><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> Greer Twiss a great NZ Sculptor was my a</span>rt teacher in about 1960 at Tamaki Int.</span><div><span style="font-size: x-large;"><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span>His wife Deirdre (Kirton) started the junior </span>Chess Club at that school. Also </span></div><div><span style="font-size: x-large;"><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span>Mrs A S Hollis, the Headmistress of Tamaki Intermediate School, was also a keen chess player. </span></div><div><p></p><p style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0Ar_mlMqMOuRP0ZzxhzwneoGTjCFWDAJ7Qt723RL6O4kQBq6UnSa2olOSUxaJ9LPKbyCM9e4i-TMlCNqpMVxK-ETRY78Nq75tUqJC2OL78Jfv5Yp2k2vrKn_BJ0xxlN40RgfF4xOmzKf3/s263/Sculpture+-+by+Greer+Twiss+K%2527Road+NZ.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><img border="0" data-original-height="192" data-original-width="263" height="467" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0Ar_mlMqMOuRP0ZzxhzwneoGTjCFWDAJ7Qt723RL6O4kQBq6UnSa2olOSUxaJ9LPKbyCM9e4i-TMlCNqpMVxK-ETRY78Nq75tUqJC2OL78Jfv5Yp2k2vrKn_BJ0xxlN40RgfF4xOmzKf3/w640-h467/Sculpture+-+by+Greer+Twiss+K%2527Road+NZ.jpg" width="640" /></span></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">I have always liked this by Greer. It was meant to be </span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"> accompanied with a fountain but this proved difficult</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"> to do. It is at the corner of Symonds Street and K'Road </span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><span>near </span>a cemetery. I think of Giacometti. But it has its own strength. </span></div><p></p><p style="margin-bottom: 0cm; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">In the meantime the Tamaki School
junior club was where I first came to know the Lee brothers as they
were interested in playing also. My friend Glen Turner, also of the
Glenn Innes-Panmure area, won at the "senior" Tamaki Chess
Club against adults. When his opponent, a Mr Gallagher (in those
days, men were Mr this and women Mrs, young men were Master or by
first name, women were Mrs or Miss. First names were not used.) lost a game to the teenage Glen, my father said, he looked at the lost end position and said: "Bulllshit!" Gallagher, who had been the Tamaki Club Champion, disgusted at his loss to a child, got up and walked off , never to play chess again as far as I know. </span></p><p style="margin-bottom: 0cm; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: xx-large;">Unkown to me Glen, like me, had been studying chess voraciously and
almost obsessively. Later I won the Tamaki Club Championships. I still have the Cup, I had studied tactics etc in books we had borrowed or bought on the game. I
recall some of the names there. I had discovered chess reading </span><i style="font-size: xx-large;">Alice
Through the Looking Glass</i><span style="font-size: xx-large;"> by Lewis Carroll who was a logician,
mathematician and interested in chess. I was fascinated, absolutely,
by the Alice books, and the Red Queen racing across the chess
squares. I didn't know what chess was.</span></p>
<p style="margin-bottom: 0cm; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"> When my father came home one day I
asked him what chess was. He was surprised. He didn't know, he knew
of it. From there we found the rules, and went into the Auckland
Public library looking for chess books. We both learned Chess. I will
digress here and say that in many ways that was the most exciting
time of all regarding chess. Learning about the pieces, reading about
the history of World Champions and of the great chess players. The
chess pieces excited me, even their images on the chess books. There
was a mysterious new world. My brother was immediately much better at
chess and had he continued might well have become a master of chess FM, IM or GM, But he preferred soccer.
</span></p>
<p style="margin-bottom: 0cm; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"> Meanwhile I loved going down to the
Tamaki junior club and playing. And the biscuits and tea when we had
a break! There is a photograph of me about 10 or so playing Bill Lee.
</span></p><p style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"> </span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhSksu6H59gRfbf_PM28WauOgurzXDABq8YCAxCN5rGRvkJAKwWcFPjLUwJd2noa8fHLMHZZRFK8UZq4_MtBaQWMkZVEnQq63uzJ_UDDy1vYdwONJBHP8YFQceykCEGFlkhP-59NXZtebnD/s2048/Protest+days+Bill+Lee+PYM+Agnew+demo+Shadbolt+Feb+2021+014b.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1292" data-original-width="2048" height="405" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhSksu6H59gRfbf_PM28WauOgurzXDABq8YCAxCN5rGRvkJAKwWcFPjLUwJd2noa8fHLMHZZRFK8UZq4_MtBaQWMkZVEnQq63uzJ_UDDy1vYdwONJBHP8YFQceykCEGFlkhP-59NXZtebnD/w640-h405/Protest+days+Bill+Lee+PYM+Agnew+demo+Shadbolt+Feb+2021+014b.jpg" width="640" /></span></a></div><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span><p></p><p style="margin-bottom: 0cm; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"> Bill Lee at the right playing chess with me at Tamaki Primary school. Noel Eyre is watching. [Tim Shadbolt -- who is not there! --- was at Rutherford High and lived nearer Henderson and up toward Kumeu but while Shadbolt was not a member of the PYM just of the general group of activists who opposed war and wanted peace, I mention him here as Bill Lee became the leader of the (theoretically) more militant PYM....] this interrupt or sentence came about as, somehow, while making this post -- I jumped from Bill to Tim.....[he <span>is currently the Mayor of Lyttleton]. I can see in that Noel Eyre is just behind </span><span> Bill. From all these days I recall the way he held his hands outwards. Noel </span><span>joined the Airforce in radio etc, retired and then studied philosophy etc. I also saw on the</span><span> peripheries of the "protest scene". I still play chess, played at the ACC </span><span><span><span><span>last year, Also in the Seniors where I beat ex NZ Champion and FIDE master </span></span></span></span><span>Bob Smith. It involved a beautiful attack, if thematic, by myself (with the IQP as </span><span>White against a Caro Khan).</span> But during the 'protest years' both literature and chess stopped.</span></p><p style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHfRrYnmtCF5lkQLrQ0zr91uiJHmQUX-cS2LkLxbiuFHfz4f_NYCoqXlRCyaHK9ovTdKGegihzjhG9RoeDdPHwPD1KnO6Wi6HTKUxRIFssRV222Y09098c0WMmgqMrO6FLx5QBhDOi71xf/s615/Protest+days+Bill+Lee+PYM+Agnew+demo+Shadbolt+Feb+2021+017b.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><img border="0" data-original-height="422" data-original-width="615" height="274" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHfRrYnmtCF5lkQLrQ0zr91uiJHmQUX-cS2LkLxbiuFHfz4f_NYCoqXlRCyaHK9ovTdKGegihzjhG9RoeDdPHwPD1KnO6Wi6HTKUxRIFssRV222Y09098c0WMmgqMrO6FLx5QBhDOi71xf/w400-h274/Protest+days+Bill+Lee+PYM+Agnew+demo+Shadbolt+Feb+2021+017b.jpg" width="400" /></span></a></div><span style="font-size: x-large;"> </span><div><span style="font-size: x-large;"><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> Bill Lee about 1969 making a point at a conference. Once a conference of youth</span><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-size: x-large;"><span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> of different view points was organised. I think I spoke, it was at the YMCA. I think </span></span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span>this photograph was taken by me there. Bill worked at the Railway workshops, became interested in Marxism and Joined the PYM and became the Auckland leader. </span><span style="font-size: xx-large;"> </span><span style="font-size: xx-large;"> </span><span style="font-size: xx-large;"> </span><span style="font-size: xx-large;"> </span></div><p style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></p><p style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">But when one is young time seems
immense and from 1966 when I left school to 1971 and perhaps into
1981, it seems several lifetimes happened. By 1981 I had three
children and was living in South Auckland in my own house (at 21
Maytime Street, Clover Park a little South of Otara and Papatoetoe).
In 1966 I left school to study Biology (which was then divided into
Zoology and Botany), and Chemistry. I had my highest marks in
Biology. But at University, although the subjects interested me very
much, I couldn't manage the labs. I was in strange state. I left and
used to visit the Glenn Innes library where I read (as a teenager I
seemed to read everything, at home or from libraries) even the
Reader's Digest) books on psychology by e.g. Eysenck, and others, and
studied books of photography and books on sculpture and art. I was in
that difficult transition stage. I didn't know what to do. I knew
that I was never going to be a scientist. However I had worked at the
Freezing works and done already a number of labouring jobs. I applied
to Bitumix as Road Test Tech. Bitumix off Lunn Ave were a subsidiary
of Winstone's and built roads: stabilising country roads, or
stabilising and paving with bitumen and aggregate and also they had a
Colfix Company (they used liquid bitumen for road repairs).
</span></p>
<p style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"> My job was fairly easy. I tested the
breaking strength of road cores. We found that the compressive
strength of a properly made road (stabilized using lime), without
bitumen, was, in this parameter, stronger than concrete. It was
interesting, there is a science and almost a lore, not only of Chess,
but of roads and roading. Most interesting at Bitumix were the
'characters'. But I will go into that later. At the time I decided to
rent to buy a television. We had never had a t.v. as my father said
it was 'unsociable' but we rarely socialised. He had a point though.
Television had been introduced in 1960. The basis of the system
installed had been worked out in my street, Court Crescent, by my
school friend, Peter Hunter's father, Les Hunter whose laboratory was
a few houses from where I live now, in his garage: he worked on valve
radio and electronic systems. Peter Hunter is now a bio-engineer who
leads the Physiome Project. I met up with him again after many years
in 2013. He combined Engineering (I think e.g. hydraulic) knowledge
with Biology and Medicine and studies the heart. The Hunters also
figured in the adventure of my growing up.
</span></p>
<p style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"> But it wasn't 'till I hired a
television that we got one. The Newspaper, (we got the NZ Herald,
with its completely gothic-scripted title, the Star came in the
afternoons) still seemed very powerful in its impact, the Kennedy
Assassination seemed from memory, to have more impact than anything I
have seen since including the showing of 9/11. [In fact, as
Baudrillard says, 'The Gulf War never happened' and talks of
hyperreality and the simulacrum, and indeed, the destruction of the
Twin Towers seemed like a movie, or a dream. Repeated hundreds of
times it becomes more a fascination of images than an event, its
“reality” slowly fades, Kennedy, J G Ballard's <i>The Atrocity
Exhibition</i> or not, also weakens to an increasingly doubtful
event. But there was, perhaps a naive, belief that the news via a
Newspaper was all true. People were affected by the NZ Herald. But
people were swayed by a powerful propaganda machine. One that would
distort, possibly hopelessly, the “reality” of the Vietnam war,
the situations in Algeria or Palestine, and the events of the
Protest, say, of a day in January 1970 when New Zealand police
brutally attacked and savaged peaceful people for revenge and a kind
of blood lust; and this was, deliberately, distorted by the same
Herald, supposedly telling the “truth”. More honest was the
tabloid on Sundays with a sexy young woman on page 3 or so, that was
distorting the truth, and everyone believed or wanted to believe
these distortions, but no one was fooled by the Newspaper's name. The
age, NOT of the loss of truth, but of the deep problem of knowledge,
unanalysed by people not versed in the philosophic tradition, had
begun. But it had no doubt begun probably as soon as humans began to
communicate]. Nevertheless that avenue of news had a surprisingly
strong and even “immediate” impact. Television news slowly
degenerated into a machine for hysterical misinformation and general
ordure called news or entertainment.</span></p><p style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">(This is not to diminish the tragedy of 9/11. The issue is of course more complex, this is an example of the philosophic and indeed in a way ethical issue of The Problem of Knowledge which is part of any good university study, and which scientists, everyone, should understand or consider.)</span></p><p style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">I wanted to watch a real war on
Television, this new invention (albeit in black and white). Like many
young men, war fascinated me, and the idea of watching it as it
happened interested me. I recall being puzzled about Vietnam. Where
was it? I hadn't studied much history and geography something I did
more as time went by in my life. I had heard of Indo China and
Burma. When I told my boss Basil Dempsey (an ex Chief Chemist of
Shell) he was concerned: “You should be there fighting, other men
are dying over there against the Communists.” or things to that
effect. I liked Basil but we disagreed. It hadn't occurred to me that
I would ever be in a real war. Real wars happened in movies. Like <i>The
Battle of the River Plate</i>, which we all watched at Mission Bay.</span></p>
<p style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"> In any case, others could risk
death, I just wanted to enjoy watching a real war I argued. He said I
could potentially be called up (Holyoake's Government's system, which
I was somewhat aware of, involved picking men for military training
by lot (selected by birth date), and then they and the regular army
would be asked to “volunteer”; this never happened to me. I was
not very 'political' at this time so it seemed absurd that I would
fight in any war, as I insisted, other people could die, war was too
dangerous.) [Now I think of it at age 73 my 19 year old self probably
saw war something like a simulacrum, something that happened on
movies. This was the same as physical fighting. I was terrified of
boys who threatened me or 'wanted a fight'. I never had any desire
for physical, or real physical conflict. War, revolution, came for
me, later, especially when I used anti-depressants, something that
was "elsewhere", although in theory I was a "great
revolutionary" or dedicated to struggle for the working class.
But that was to come a bit later and was a bit like a kind of
religion for me. But, yes, I meant it. And science with Marxism
(later I thought) would solve human problems, such as war,
inequality. Perhaps a part of me yearns for that time when for while
I believed intensely in a better world, a world that would evolve to
a more humane, happier place, and where Capitalists and "stars"
would be removed, as well as competition instead of games and endless
play for its own sake. A part of me still believes in some of these
ideas. But more anon.
</span></p><p style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgu1GdkCDWTFBR2qmor_JfPqqUUwN93jO-zy9Yvph2jJiJlWe0mV8qeaIYaqcrrnNfKnpssIcrUj1itSsLA3EHAhlPse48tRHV8KwsHX3bj-rL1e4K53zPoGQwDOWu04woC580Px06yzdIe/s400/Bitumix+tanker+1966++4%252C500+gallons+from+Shell+to+Lunn+Ave++June+2021.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><img border="0" data-original-height="322" data-original-width="400" height="323" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgu1GdkCDWTFBR2qmor_JfPqqUUwN93jO-zy9Yvph2jJiJlWe0mV8qeaIYaqcrrnNfKnpssIcrUj1itSsLA3EHAhlPse48tRHV8KwsHX3bj-rL1e4K53zPoGQwDOWu04woC580Px06yzdIe/w400-h323/Bitumix+tanker+1966++4%252C500+gallons+from+Shell+to+Lunn+Ave++June+2021.jpg" width="400" /></span></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">I joined Bitumix in 1966 and worked testing roading materials.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">This is a tanker with either Bitumen or gas in it - 4,500 gallons. </span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">I read books on roading and looked at the "flashpoint" charts. I had some</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">idea of probability but Basil Dempsey (had been the Chief Chemist of Shell</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">told me about the idea of flash points. It showed a probability distribution. In</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">theory any liquid can explode at any temperature, but for bitumen there was a </span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">more highly probable "flash point". I had see diagrams of atoms showing</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">the fuzzing "probabilistic" images of electron shells. Chemistry fascinated</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">me but I couldn't handle practical University work, the same applied to Biology.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></div><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjlzespgCkJ0_BZa_bDVGgvPzjBg8Zf-tFAaj154vq9MmSYLj6PwOXUMG-HONexhEMMt1rOhyphenhyphenr-ZoVyenHZJ7SSvlVMKYBEt7ipanwc_nNvowgBWO4KHKqW7N2zXFOyoMxkC0Gma59PLEpJ/s400/Bitumix+Paving+a+road+ca+1970+June+2021.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><img border="0" data-original-height="326" data-original-width="400" height="326" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjlzespgCkJ0_BZa_bDVGgvPzjBg8Zf-tFAaj154vq9MmSYLj6PwOXUMG-HONexhEMMt1rOhyphenhyphenr-ZoVyenHZJ7SSvlVMKYBEt7ipanwc_nNvowgBWO4KHKqW7N2zXFOyoMxkC0Gma59PLEpJ/w400-h326/Bitumix+Paving+a+road+ca+1970+June+2021.jpg" width="400" /></span></a></div><div><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></div><span style="font-size: x-large;"> Basil and I would drive all over the place keeping an eye on road works. This is</span></div><div><span style="font-size: x-large;">the southern motorway. But we looked at stabilisation of roads (mixing lime and the right soil</span></div><div><span style="font-size: x-large;">and aggregate). Testing these with a compression test gave stronger resistance than concrete. Another</span></div><div><span style="font-size: x-large;">factor was the temperature of the bitumen laid. Exceeding a certain temp. meant weakening viscosity.</span></div><div><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-size: x-large;">Another test was a long v shaped thing with size marks on it. Samples of aggregate, once the soil or </span></div><div><span style="font-size: x-large;">bitumen was dissolved could be slid down and I would make a list and then a graph of the aggregate</span></div><div><span style="font-size: x-large;">sizes (the idea was for the aggregate to fit in like a complex jig saw, interlocking so a good size range was needed). Soil for stabilizing a metal road needed to not be too organic or too clayey. We tested with different ranges. There were already British and ASA standards. I also used to sit there and reading about roads and sometimes alone listening to the tins of white spirits or kerosene suddenly crack, giving me a fright. We or I never did a viscosity test. At one stage we had the Ministry of Works testing our roards. Some of the young techs I got on quite well with. I asked one what it was like where he worked at the Ministry lab. Alright, pretty laid back, he said. There's some hard cases there though. One bloke sits there all day morosely looking gloomily at the work table until every now and then he cries out: "Fuck!" </span></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiULGKHddMlibtStVbhNJC6qdj1OEFv2RAwFylEVGfN2Boh-2x8zMZhih3kIYmyLBwctpEpcMUehFnVt6WTYFykapVbL1Zifjr-nqqmvOvgTPYRAPJ0c3yQnEXkn1bSW5xjoG9HuM7RjajL/s800/Bitumix+plant+Lunn+Ave+1960s+June+2021.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><img border="0" data-original-height="581" data-original-width="800" height="290" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiULGKHddMlibtStVbhNJC6qdj1OEFv2RAwFylEVGfN2Boh-2x8zMZhih3kIYmyLBwctpEpcMUehFnVt6WTYFykapVbL1Zifjr-nqqmvOvgTPYRAPJ0c3yQnEXkn1bSW5xjoG9HuM7RjajL/w400-h290/Bitumix+plant+Lunn+Ave+1960s+June+2021.jpg" width="400" /></span></a></div><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span><p style="margin-bottom: 0cm; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">Shows part of the Lunn Ave depot. Bitumix I was told, when I joined was a subsidiary of Winstones.I liked it there for a while. But I didn't want to do Cert. of Engineering in Civil Eng. It was a good idea but I had no idea what I wanted to do. The most interesting thing about the job were the characters working there. Gordon Hall used to come in to the lab and talk about oil engines and systems, e.g. as applied to Colfix which plant was run by Alan Palmer (I think that was his name) -- he and Basil talked for long times about their golfing adventures and wins and losses. Gordon was always in overalls and was outwardly "rough". Basil said that the way to deal with him, as Gordon was one of those people almost indispensible for their experience and knowledge of Colfix and Bitumix, was to subtly put an idea to him. Gordon would later likely come up with this plan as his own. Basil would be amazed and what he wanted or pressed for would get done. But Gordon was full of know how. Suits contacting Bitumix would seek out a Mr. Gordon Hall. Gordon, who they assumed was a labourer would reach out his hand and shake theirs: "That's me -- how the hell are yah?!" The startled suit would soon start listening. </span></p><p style="margin-bottom: 0cm; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">Basil Dempsey came up with, for some reason one day: </span></p><p style="margin-bottom: 0cm; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">'Double double toil and trouble / fire burn and cauldron bubble.' </span></p><p style="margin-bottom: 0cm; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">I hadn't studied Macbeth at that time. Later I did. Even later in about 1964, to Leicester Kyle I said: 'Something wicked this way comes.' He added: 'From the pricking of my thumbs, something wicked this way comes.' (Later I played with that and had somewhere: 'Something this way wicked comes.' (Inter alia). A poor old bloke (about 45 years old or so I suppose, so he seemed old to me then) would come up and want to go through a lot of stuff and writing about concrete testing with Basil. I asked about it. Basil had been very patient. This repeated a few times. As the Chief Engineer of Chemist of the Cement Co. down the road he was always confused about what he was meant to do. I hope he managed but I understood his dilemma as practical Chem. and Zoology and Botany labs at uni had baffled me into a standstill. I had needed to work with others. But much as these things fascinated me I had no confidence, like the poor fellow of the Cement works. </span></p><p style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">___________________________________________ _______________________________________</span></p><p style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><span style="color: #04ff00;"><b>In any case I would have been exempt
from the NZ Army, as in 1967, still at Bitumix</b></span> I suffered a quite
severe nervous collapse. I will expand on this later. I got medical
help and recovered enough to consider taking a course in English and
Economics. I did well in my essays in English, my tutor was
Smithyman, but I “failed” the exam. Details of all that I might
give later. However I learnt a lot on that course. All my essays got
high marks and if sometimes gauche, were written well. Smithyman was
an interesting tutor, who said he was proud of his <i>Buller's Book of
Birds</i>, asked us if we were interested in Heidegger (I hadn't heard of
him and did not until I studied philosophy in the 90s when I did
English and Philosophy etc for a B.A. which I passed in 1994.)</span></p>
<p style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"> I published a story (which started
as a kind of “prose poem” description of the freezing works where
I had worked for several seasons...it was the first thing I had
submitted and the editor, Tom McWilliams, asked me to expand it to a
story). It was published in Mate 18, 1970.
</span></p>
<p style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"> But I wanted to write poetry having
read T S Eliot and others.
</span></p>
<p style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"> For various reasons this didn't
happen (more later perhaps on these things).
</span></p>
<p style="margin-bottom: 0cm; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"> By 1969 I was working at the Railway
Workshops. I had already been thinking about being in politics or
becoming involved or interested as I thought that that was, in a sense,
everything. If death annihilated all of us, then we could at least do
something significant in between. I went to see my old teacher Bob
Tizard. He was very kind. I didn't really understand politics or
economics in those days; I did a short course (extra mural) on the
Soviet Union and one of our books was <i>Russia Hopes and Fears </i>which
I still have. I was starting to think about the Chinese Revolution
also.</span></p>
<p style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
</p>
<p style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"> Then I met Steve Boreham, (of whom
much more later – but I will say that Steve was a very interesting
and quite educated fellow who introduced me to Faulkner and also
Mallarm<span style="font-family: Times New Roman, serif;">è</span> I was also
deeply interested (he had been diagnosed Schizophrenic) in a vision
of God that Steve said he had had): so it was around now that I also
met some communists, and other characters, and a man who I hoped very
much, by the way, had 'seen' God, I was fascinated by this vision,
which he insisted on and which tied in for me with certain views I
had that mixed with say Wordsworth's view of nature, and my reading
around those days of Nietzsche's <i>Thus Spoke Zarathrustra</i>, and <i>Ethics</i>
by Spinoza, which like Thomas Aquinas talks of an initial
self-causing cause. I had found a kind of comfort in both books.
Spinoza in his Ethics worked by premises etc like Euclid. And
Euclidean geometry is so beautiful! The wonderful and deceptive
simplicity of his theorems! ( Yes, there are more complex theorems,
but they aren't needed, and of course we also now have Riemenian
Geometry etc. But the inexpressible beauty of circle touched by a
tangent! The wonderful logic showing the values of angles. The
cleverness of the human mind...).
</span></p><p style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"> ________________________ ___________________ _________________________________</span></p><p style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"> <b><span style="color: red;"> Some more photographs of the PYM and The Big Pink in then Working Class Ponsonby and places in 'The Protest Days':</span></b></span></p><p style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><b><span style="font-size: x-large;"><span style="color: red;"> </span><span style="color: red;"> </span><span style="color: red;"> </span><span style="color: red;"> </span><span style="color: red;"> </span><span style="color: red;"> </span><span style="color: red;"> </span><span style="color: red;"> </span><span style="color: red;"> </span><span style="color: red;"> </span><span style="color: red;"> </span><span style="color: red;"> </span></span></b></p><p style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><b><span style="color: red; font-size: x-large;"><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><br /></span></b></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><b><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjKbJi4Xmqbk6TVR7-zK_EuUTcbJnc7UJnrMLre8DFxn9ZkNxogn8ttRvrnluHzGlBti8DKvkQJe-xq5tZQDpPBjZLxyw_wx9eJ4E3TDaBMoGE3Xhh4hh3U8CX5ECjI9J4D6yZX6wcVNic/s1012/Personal+-+slides+from+69+to+70s+Protest+Days+poss+for+IP+June+2021+007b.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><img border="0" data-original-height="725" data-original-width="1012" height="229" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjKbJi4Xmqbk6TVR7-zK_EuUTcbJnc7UJnrMLre8DFxn9ZkNxogn8ttRvrnluHzGlBti8DKvkQJe-xq5tZQDpPBjZLxyw_wx9eJ4E3TDaBMoGE3Xhh4hh3U8CX5ECjI9J4D6yZX6wcVNic/s320/Personal+-+slides+from+69+to+70s+Protest+Days+poss+for+IP+June+2021+007b.jpg" width="320" /></span></a></b></div><b><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNgG9wxJE8h4i3WmdkaE7TLbpBD2ziR-j1t4fkj4o2GrsQrogvPPHp0pQsX-8hD-Qj5XgAhn2m9weODtt7Il5rniU7wWCIKARQROphd0a-UwmEoNTMoT-_FypkyLLS1lCuxc0oueCOUW3q/s890/Personal+-+slides+from+69+to+70s+Protest+Days+poss+for+IP+June+2021+003b.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="650" data-original-width="890" height="234" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNgG9wxJE8h4i3WmdkaE7TLbpBD2ziR-j1t4fkj4o2GrsQrogvPPHp0pQsX-8hD-Qj5XgAhn2m9weODtt7Il5rniU7wWCIKARQROphd0a-UwmEoNTMoT-_FypkyLLS1lCuxc0oueCOUW3q/s320/Personal+-+slides+from+69+to+70s+Protest+Days+poss+for+IP+June+2021+003b.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhsxPTiTsbGf9JOidNgi15aONBY1XfCmuXjLUCqXHW8yzCdqOiSsh6dChqKuGTFhwBvWFo8zUQhQcSCvbXG94Fs0AzlvQ6iXZ7_GOjjBNG8pvw0lCbe9br-qKXWj_3jx3xKyjpyqPBH9FwM/s1952/Personal+-+slides+from+69+to+70s+Protest+Days+poss+for+IP+June+2021+023a.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1349" data-original-width="1952" height="221" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhsxPTiTsbGf9JOidNgi15aONBY1XfCmuXjLUCqXHW8yzCdqOiSsh6dChqKuGTFhwBvWFo8zUQhQcSCvbXG94Fs0AzlvQ6iXZ7_GOjjBNG8pvw0lCbe9br-qKXWj_3jx3xKyjpyqPBH9FwM/s320/Personal+-+slides+from+69+to+70s+Protest+Days+poss+for+IP+June+2021+023a.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgT-ukyXqVwnjw2oePNLAVyS7DCVGgltACzInQlHNeddF_TXXtoWzFsUCJA4zwZ5QOG4hDYAP1K1l93HT47cqX1RbwG9NmgCKOtBSUGIGiTGiz5_vQX9LO9YUVVcXgeeGfMi7F9rMb0krfW/s640/Personal+-+slides+from+69+to+70s+Protest+Days+poss+for+IP+June+2021+008.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="480" data-original-width="640" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgT-ukyXqVwnjw2oePNLAVyS7DCVGgltACzInQlHNeddF_TXXtoWzFsUCJA4zwZ5QOG4hDYAP1K1l93HT47cqX1RbwG9NmgCKOtBSUGIGiTGiz5_vQX9LO9YUVVcXgeeGfMi7F9rMb0krfW/s320/Personal+-+slides+from+69+to+70s+Protest+Days+poss+for+IP+June+2021+008.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTEglJc5Aupkv2ro2HhFDOd6cmFSicGhjdnd81hltCaD1wqBhALLd6ucXYTg3FX9IE9MdJ-j1VUCdNKJBtrunb0lBCpYKEuq_wHXXCgG-pEheCYgPD70lDxniOBYolKq-mkBj-0rHCkXkJ/s1452/Personal+-+slides+from+69+to+70s+Protest+Days+poss+for+IP+June+2021+010b.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="995" data-original-width="1452" height="274" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTEglJc5Aupkv2ro2HhFDOd6cmFSicGhjdnd81hltCaD1wqBhALLd6ucXYTg3FX9IE9MdJ-j1VUCdNKJBtrunb0lBCpYKEuq_wHXXCgG-pEheCYgPD70lDxniOBYolKq-mkBj-0rHCkXkJ/w400-h274/Personal+-+slides+from+69+to+70s+Protest+Days+poss+for+IP+June+2021+010b.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNEi38asuwYgL22gTlZK8a7ODB4A_JnsE4WHgYUftMlj9mcX-2993CVaccERJG0VakA_csUKMbGWx9-WNw650iFSWzb7xidyEhRVOaS7znifqfVS_60evenkNzwMoHiMQJ4egPnCWBUdlw/s2048/Personal+-+slides+from+69+to+70s+Protest+Days+poss+for+IP+June+2021+014b.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1329" data-original-width="2048" height="208" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNEi38asuwYgL22gTlZK8a7ODB4A_JnsE4WHgYUftMlj9mcX-2993CVaccERJG0VakA_csUKMbGWx9-WNw650iFSWzb7xidyEhRVOaS7znifqfVS_60evenkNzwMoHiMQJ4egPnCWBUdlw/s320/Personal+-+slides+from+69+to+70s+Protest+Days+poss+for+IP+June+2021+014b.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Rewi (Dick Fowler) and James "Ant" Dollimore.</div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgX7JLo1EzjKdWVjD8I8cG56hugXTYQ_ETxQMuhiVRgig_u6P5MFaz4FEuKw3MuEuNZHb1Q6KlI4u7OR3L2q_ip_g8mS4RYhjH0y1tVJWwDR9Lu6HPXXnyO2vreX_S0g9CqjCYPCIoVN7Pd/s1716/Personal+-+slides+from+69+to+70s+Protest+Days+poss+for+IP+June+2021+011b.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1287" data-original-width="1716" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgX7JLo1EzjKdWVjD8I8cG56hugXTYQ_ETxQMuhiVRgig_u6P5MFaz4FEuKw3MuEuNZHb1Q6KlI4u7OR3L2q_ip_g8mS4RYhjH0y1tVJWwDR9Lu6HPXXnyO2vreX_S0g9CqjCYPCIoVN7Pd/s320/Personal+-+slides+from+69+to+70s+Protest+Days+poss+for+IP+June+2021+011b.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjLO90h8DbY2RmiOx55w4Xx5erV4vDHLXkGXUY1UxJqcSppb38GIDLir19uqSz79zRL0xZFj-jInbdnts12h1wH2_DHLqi2ayBQpwdi1RaOR08glF3ddJMP-K5gjUGb8JrFQO5x6AwuD3Tu/s2048/Personal+-+slides+from+69+to+70s+Protest+Days+poss+for+IP+June+2021+012b.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1416" data-original-width="2048" height="276" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjLO90h8DbY2RmiOx55w4Xx5erV4vDHLXkGXUY1UxJqcSppb38GIDLir19uqSz79zRL0xZFj-jInbdnts12h1wH2_DHLqi2ayBQpwdi1RaOR08glF3ddJMP-K5gjUGb8JrFQO5x6AwuD3Tu/w400-h276/Personal+-+slides+from+69+to+70s+Protest+Days+poss+for+IP+June+2021+012b.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Somewhere north of Wellington.</div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBHWMhJDAVr33fWQjDQr1sj1aVRZEZkrlzv-pyf0cRmsWgplTt-wk-7muSoPtsn0Xi1TPcECmg_6U66KmMs6FvWWADLLY_Svl3UU4kZKJS1GWKP-ueAineSejC5kE9LDLJytSAS6Ds6AzH/s1751/Personal+-+slides+from+69+to+70s+Protest+Days+poss+for+IP+June+2021+019b.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1172" data-original-width="1751" height="214" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBHWMhJDAVr33fWQjDQr1sj1aVRZEZkrlzv-pyf0cRmsWgplTt-wk-7muSoPtsn0Xi1TPcECmg_6U66KmMs6FvWWADLLY_Svl3UU4kZKJS1GWKP-ueAineSejC5kE9LDLJytSAS6Ds6AzH/s320/Personal+-+slides+from+69+to+70s+Protest+Days+poss+for+IP+June+2021+019b.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div><b><br /></b></div><div><b><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> The street protests meant increasing people opposed the American War.</span><br /></b></div><div><b><br /></b></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgD0A3Do6hmJjjzumE-jbYtu2KRW9nL60RS26OHCSr0k684uJleK2MqvqsAvpTQjWNgd42RlnUfzzbgAQAawCB5lQ5VdE0ulahLxkQCEOMv_KFIFjlIR9JO9tcYOHe1BJ8vAfTfeDusuWOx/s1278/Personal+-+slides+from+69+to+70s+Protest+Days+poss+for+IP+June+2021+020abc.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="888" data-original-width="1278" height="445" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgD0A3Do6hmJjjzumE-jbYtu2KRW9nL60RS26OHCSr0k684uJleK2MqvqsAvpTQjWNgd42RlnUfzzbgAQAawCB5lQ5VdE0ulahLxkQCEOMv_KFIFjlIR9JO9tcYOHe1BJ8vAfTfeDusuWOx/w640-h445/Personal+-+slides+from+69+to+70s+Protest+Days+poss+for+IP+June+2021+020abc.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span></span></b></div><div><b><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></b></div><div><b><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSgC6LAG0hRXWBGti3V2jTlOezWXyWn3JBVV18dQvvrdSs3UrDYnVhH4mgKD8UWDj4IlOrQF0ueydNiAUkvnBESblafelmtJSmFUXvNXOGTfWibjAztdpb5Yern1zxEF3e0pSGHobvvS6L/s2048/Personal+-+slides+from+69+to+70s+Protest+Days+poss+for+IP+June+2021+013b.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1455" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSgC6LAG0hRXWBGti3V2jTlOezWXyWn3JBVV18dQvvrdSs3UrDYnVhH4mgKD8UWDj4IlOrQF0ueydNiAUkvnBESblafelmtJSmFUXvNXOGTfWibjAztdpb5Yern1zxEF3e0pSGHobvvS6L/s320/Personal+-+slides+from+69+to+70s+Protest+Days+poss+for+IP+June+2021+013b.jpg" width="227" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">A student radical gathering. I forget this fellows name but he arrived</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">about the same time as Fred Fenton. He was a character. People would</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">arrive at our flat at different times, even climbing in windows. We</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">never paid any rent in the several months we were there. One day,</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">in a crisis of conscience, we all put cash on the kitchen bench. Later out</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">the back Dick and others organized a bonfire, and we burnt things we</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">didn't need, but then it was discovered that the money was missing.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">It had either, we surmised, been accidentally swept into the paper</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">rubbish bag beside the bench or stolen. We were a bit upset but money</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">id only money and life went on. I think we were all amused and to this</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">day no one knows what happened to the money. Not that the chap here</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">had anything to do with any of this. It was his method or way of</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">arriving which was typical. Bill Lee had a place, two, but one was in</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Bannerman Road. Being the 'headquarters' of the PYM they were</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">attacked and invaded one day by right wing pro war and others. A</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">great battle ensued. Dick made himself a hero of the event. I was</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">at the time, only a few months ago, quite uninterested in 'politics'.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">In 1968 I had little knowledge of where Vietnam was.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4JTzGmIDkiup5hNOxtg4_fNKHK4DCD3EUmkT0RWriqJUQQ_1-17mLFGgu-Dr7O5hObpJN9mgMjvqtzYdjJ0P9XigQpBN09PfeKdcUTTfs6x7exBCYB799f5cs_e_nlHo80SYo_w50Qj1h/s1283/Personal+-+slides+from+69+to+70s+Protest+Days+poss+for+IP+June+2021+021b.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="898" data-original-width="1283" height="448" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4JTzGmIDkiup5hNOxtg4_fNKHK4DCD3EUmkT0RWriqJUQQ_1-17mLFGgu-Dr7O5hObpJN9mgMjvqtzYdjJ0P9XigQpBN09PfeKdcUTTfs6x7exBCYB799f5cs_e_nlHo80SYo_w50Qj1h/w640-h448/Personal+-+slides+from+69+to+70s+Protest+Days+poss+for+IP+June+2021+021b.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">This was probably at the US Consulship where protestors</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">frequently burnt the US flag. It was in or near the ASB </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">head office in Queen Street probably 1969/70.</div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXzF0jSqatvP6B2lIXdeACdTtfVb2eySqgHlFqr_g0q86eWzyI-so486CAjFh7VEFu2UZQs06iwVR4Y7XdZ64acT-VNma0rfkZWaIZQktVxryiZLs8GqSGTUO4IBMmRqTs38CgOQYcAVKY/s2048/Personal+-+Mrs+Fowler+the+70s+Dick+Jim+Me+etc+053b.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1424" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXzF0jSqatvP6B2lIXdeACdTtfVb2eySqgHlFqr_g0q86eWzyI-so486CAjFh7VEFu2UZQs06iwVR4Y7XdZ64acT-VNma0rfkZWaIZQktVxryiZLs8GqSGTUO4IBMmRqTs38CgOQYcAVKY/w446-h640/Personal+-+Mrs+Fowler+the+70s+Dick+Jim+Me+etc+053b.jpg" width="446" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">I met Mary at the PYM. We would walk</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">the streets at night and I would look for</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">interesting photographs.</div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOdB0DdOYfI6nW28BMlAajWrPD4iJLK1sy5osZ009KYD_g3YPoKxCzVNX-K51ON1WYpWnxvxJxBZx6g8EX8N8JuxT1PWzfryH16RDiR9Wn1jd-j3qTlZ_IzAzG0kDLNPZIG414rDKPoa8x/s2048/Personal+-+Mrs+Fowler+the+70s+Dick+Jim+Me+etc+052b.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOdB0DdOYfI6nW28BMlAajWrPD4iJLK1sy5osZ009KYD_g3YPoKxCzVNX-K51ON1WYpWnxvxJxBZx6g8EX8N8JuxT1PWzfryH16RDiR9Wn1jd-j3qTlZ_IzAzG0kDLNPZIG414rDKPoa8x/s320/Personal+-+Mrs+Fowler+the+70s+Dick+Jim+Me+etc+052b.jpg" width="240" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">This strange thing caught my eye in a shop, </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">probably a second hand shop on Ponsonby Road.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Later we lived at 123 Ponsonby Road where</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Frank Lane started a bookshop then a poster shop</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">and showed current and or 'radical' movies.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjj2ycmZqClDlQg1sgRfyBwqrN4tBY8Awq5uttdXQ1r-ICDtMAJVTae5GlS26sKF4Q9RSctzNWu453QrsnT8gOZ3lLA1qQcrg3hEgyaogSK8uABce2nq9I-K0-rO473SpwWKd9ZNJScB2bO/s2048/Personal+-+Mrs+Fowler+the+70s+Dick+Jim+Me+etc+125b.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1476" data-original-width="2048" height="462" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjj2ycmZqClDlQg1sgRfyBwqrN4tBY8Awq5uttdXQ1r-ICDtMAJVTae5GlS26sKF4Q9RSctzNWu453QrsnT8gOZ3lLA1qQcrg3hEgyaogSK8uABce2nq9I-K0-rO473SpwWKd9ZNJScB2bO/w640-h462/Personal+-+Mrs+Fowler+the+70s+Dick+Jim+Me+etc+125b.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br /></span></b><p></p><p style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><b><span style="color: red; font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></b></p><p style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><b><span style="color: red; font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></b></p><p style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></p><p style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></p><p style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></p><p style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></p><p style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></p><p style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></p><p style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">Two old codgers circa 1969 having a yarn.</span></p><p style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">____________________________________________________________________________</span></p><p style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"> Some of the Places I worked in During these days. I cant get images</span></p><p style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> from the Railway Workshops although somewhere I have images but</span><br /></span></p><p style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> some are from the Freezing works. I do have some images on slides</span><br /></span></p><p style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> that are from those days, but except for a few they are undeveloped. </span><br /></span></p><p style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> Looking at these images I realise that I had no real or sufficient knowledge</span></span></p><p style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span><span style="font-size: x-large;"><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> of the technology of photography. I needed more training and better equipment.</span></span></span></p><p style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span><span style="font-size: x-large;"> Sadly none of Ray Gough, Charlie Baker or others. </span></span></p><p style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><span><span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span></span></span> <span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhurxpNAXqInDBWrbwKl5MKkHEmJ8RHPnBehfWj0jQOpdtF2lLFMvoLR-YnCwfeMGOp_7GH_0L7RXSPZapCbkpWd6zAddG5uPa95OF1ujIajyqr66Fqkp-OuC64m8l0BBGFfuXs4XM70DYS/s2048/Personal+-+Mrs+Fowler+the+70s+Dick+Jim+Me+etc+015b.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1337" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhurxpNAXqInDBWrbwKl5MKkHEmJ8RHPnBehfWj0jQOpdtF2lLFMvoLR-YnCwfeMGOp_7GH_0L7RXSPZapCbkpWd6zAddG5uPa95OF1ujIajyqr66Fqkp-OuC64m8l0BBGFfuXs4XM70DYS/w261-h400/Personal+-+Mrs+Fowler+the+70s+Dick+Jim+Me+etc+015b.jpg" width="261" /></span></a></div><span style="font-size: x-large;">These were taken when I worked at Hellabys Meat company. I had or may have others. While there I showed images of the effects of the Vietnam war. British and some NZ medics were in North and other parts of Vietnam.</span></div><div><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-size: x-large;">I even gave a speech when there was a strike on. These issues, the slaughter of men women and children -- who were just villagers and not involved in the war as combatants, if they were this didn't matter, they were killed raped etc night after night. </span></div><div><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-size: x-large;">This can be shown. Of course it has happened in all wars. But even in WWII the Germans and others mostly now obeyed or worked with the new United Nations rules of War. Where these were kept to, the United States ignored all rules of war. In fact the entire war was illegal. It was a genocidal war. An attempt to push up through to China. When the French were being defeated at Dien Bien Phu in 1954, they asked the advice of the US Govt., (the combatants were already a US-French Command, and many of the French were ex-Nazis or had been in the army in WWII and had joined the French Foreign Legion -- when they asked for help they were offered two atomic bombs to drop on Vietnam and 4 for China North of Vietnam. (H G Slingsby <i>Rape of Vietnam</i>). In the book on the Air War in Vietnam it is documented how the US continued their policy of fire bombing and the use of chemicals. This use of fire had been prepared in Utah in WWII where the US airforce practiced on wooden structures with napalm etc. Blanket bombing burning thousands of civilians was then used in Japan.) But it had been hoped war might lessen with the weakening of the Major Imperialist powers. In some ways it did. But the Vietnam war was a terrible "slaughter house". So, while I worked mainly in the Offal Dept. I wasn't ever far from the sad death of thousands of animals. </span></div><div><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrlomgxxlB5s9fenEImMUv6ok7ozUhF3aeMdsvv3lCjMmnjyNNP6Xqw_LwEfBAzNtgwT4PwHLr9cDK6pDxznJ4QQbeauizZF64rXDfMtmVpIHGqxr6oh4FPn0cxwSjcfC9VhRrALfF6gKn/s2048/Personal+-+Mrs+Fowler+the+70s+Dick+Jim+Me+etc+020bc.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1456" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrlomgxxlB5s9fenEImMUv6ok7ozUhF3aeMdsvv3lCjMmnjyNNP6Xqw_LwEfBAzNtgwT4PwHLr9cDK6pDxznJ4QQbeauizZF64rXDfMtmVpIHGqxr6oh4FPn0cxwSjcfC9VhRrALfF6gKn/w285-h400/Personal+-+Mrs+Fowler+the+70s+Dick+Jim+Me+etc+020bc.jpg" width="285" /></span></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">This slaughter house, seeing it now, reminds me of what we were protesting and "fighting for", and why Dick or Rewi Kemp was so committed to the struggle against such terrible wars. Some were against all wars. This is not a bad position, Although we thought of ourselves as 'militants' and these injustices (some images of what I showed are below), we, most of us, would hesitate to take violent action. But we knew that we might one day have to fight. But nowadays I believe that wars are begun by those who pull the triggers. Even more there is a terrible possibility that no one can be held accountable. And it seems that nation after nation throughout the world still conduct illegal wars for profit or power.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">This becomes a deep, even disturbing existential, ethical and general philosophic question or issue.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">This is what I we were struggling against: the enormous force of modern states. Many of us were Marxists. I, in later years, have concluded we were not wrong in all things. But I am much less</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">hopeful of human progress, of any good in science. The same people who cure diseases make atomic bombs. Our problem I see it now is simply that we are TOO CLEVER. We invent things and then more things such as cars and endless gadgets and devices but cars transport us, but we get lack exercise, we</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">(and I mean humans in general, we are all capable, potentially of anything), drop bombs, carry out massacres, create terrible pollution with our marvellous ingenuity. Intelligence is knowing that we will all get ill, and that we die. We may always have been restless or "born free, and every where is in chains" to more or less quote Rousseau. We are only flukes of nature. It is likely we will pass. We have too many who are too well paid. We are obsessed with "winners" and making money. We are "driven". We cannot love ourselves or others. Some almost can. Some are at peace. All neglect or deny death.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">Death and the mystery of life is the central thing of what we are. And how to be happy. We have sacrificed this ability to live creatively and well in the world for competition and things promoting people with enormous wealth. Millions are still in poverty or displaced. There are perhaps too many of us. We are thus too clever, too successful. We have fallen into civilization. We could well be in the ending stages. However, this I cannot know. I cannot really, in a deep sense, know anything.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">But then I cared. (Our minds on things change, we get complacent, or "old" or we look at things new ways, but a part of me still does care.) I, many young (and old) people, believed we could change the world for the better. That humans would all become involved in the nations of the world. That science would be used for good. That the great ideas of Mao-tse-Tung and revolution would eventually after long struggle lead to the victory of the working people or the world. That Capitalism and Imperialism would die. That we would build a truly alive, creative, people. We would work against war and oppression. We would oppose racism. (I studied Samoan and some Maori, Dick learnt Chinese, Mrs Fowler made trips to China and befriended people of many ethnicities. We all hoped for a better world. To persuade my fellow workers (I saw my self only as a worker, I did not want to rise in rank. I wanted to stay among the working people to be with them and help change, to bring about world revolution and real, living democracy. These were my dreams. If those in power opposed us we had, ultimately, to bring this about by force of arms. Then we would transform the world. This came close to happening in China in the 50s to 60s after the victory of the Chinese Communists against the Kuomintang, the Japanese, and the local Western "comprador" classes. Meanwhile we opposed the oppression against Palestine by the Zionists (who continue with US support to oppress the Palestinians), we opposed Apartheid, racism, we were in favour of feminist ideals, we were for civil rights, and the better conditions of people, indigenous and other working class, and we supported progress. We were young and believed in things. Enormous cynical forces, however were at work.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">_________________________________________ _______________________________________</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjf_Kr7zRITVr4e0GHwv8249tfurElS30sn6n3InN26C0k6uClcrXY4fawMMxeZtL_EzLTLTfqRHauVRGhk-qG5SQCTUljWsj5TEiOwjn0ularzz3TE_1dSo6yyrZK1wuGsnktvT0BmibK/s883/Vietnam+War+Medical+issues+%2526+PYM+days+March+1st+2021+013b.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><img border="0" data-original-height="745" data-original-width="883" height="338" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjf_Kr7zRITVr4e0GHwv8249tfurElS30sn6n3InN26C0k6uClcrXY4fawMMxeZtL_EzLTLTfqRHauVRGhk-qG5SQCTUljWsj5TEiOwjn0ularzz3TE_1dSo6yyrZK1wuGsnktvT0BmibK/w400-h338/Vietnam+War+Medical+issues+%2526+PYM+days+March+1st+2021+013b.jpg" width="400" /></span></a></div><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgyq5tfvw5l7aqnsyPmLhPonqanhMDV_UFrTH-A0mQW650K9A1he1kN5rxLzefaE2IPHs2wzIfOliU2F1rixyFkUcPJIiplNSMoevkQipN7rFPVEUxK8aHp5_bvD-01fXHm96rlkyNSDzGt/s1352/Vietnam+War+Medical+issues+%2526+PYM+days+March+1st+2021+007b.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1066" data-original-width="1352" height="504" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgyq5tfvw5l7aqnsyPmLhPonqanhMDV_UFrTH-A0mQW650K9A1he1kN5rxLzefaE2IPHs2wzIfOliU2F1rixyFkUcPJIiplNSMoevkQipN7rFPVEUxK8aHp5_bvD-01fXHm96rlkyNSDzGt/w640-h504/Vietnam+War+Medical+issues+%2526+PYM+days+March+1st+2021+007b.jpg" width="640" /></span></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></div><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMzWpNiVCwqHaCpjCyiS2PU3v-bmM-9-vtzivt2pjLHe-9T7AV2aAaVp6suo9RkUDU1Cs9ZXEJBn6juR9rd4GBPOLbbrhcQ0pT272VZywp5tAMLZweJVnF0XJLGpOZ9Ygti2HCPZKAEjWb/s1345/Vietnam+War+Medical+issues+%2526+PYM+days+March+1st+2021+006b.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><img border="0" data-original-height="877" data-original-width="1345" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMzWpNiVCwqHaCpjCyiS2PU3v-bmM-9-vtzivt2pjLHe-9T7AV2aAaVp6suo9RkUDU1Cs9ZXEJBn6juR9rd4GBPOLbbrhcQ0pT272VZywp5tAMLZweJVnF0XJLGpOZ9Ygti2HCPZKAEjWb/s320/Vietnam+War+Medical+issues+%2526+PYM+days+March+1st+2021+006b.jpg" width="320" /></span></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">Hospitals and buildings like the one seen here were targeted deliberately in both the Korean War</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">and the Vietnam War. The US also dropped millions of tons of bombs, including napalm, lethal pellet bombs and bombs to trap children, with lethal pellets. British medical teams and other journalists</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">and observers saw the devastation caused.</span></div><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUcC-YTj3RkFa0kKyLi_2HoyimfOG-AjsIY5EB3mtGywCMdKBDqX5PKe-QHkxv60xIRhyZ4wqo-FRazjf9S3r68tmr4g8rs7A3ENAnF1dzxpSLuTwoVrxPfvGBHex-uSy4yvqZLUIl82gt/s1129/Vietnam+War+Medical+issues+%2526+PYM+days+March+1st+2021+004b.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1129" data-original-width="755" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUcC-YTj3RkFa0kKyLi_2HoyimfOG-AjsIY5EB3mtGywCMdKBDqX5PKe-QHkxv60xIRhyZ4wqo-FRazjf9S3r68tmr4g8rs7A3ENAnF1dzxpSLuTwoVrxPfvGBHex-uSy4yvqZLUIl82gt/w268-h400/Vietnam+War+Medical+issues+%2526+PYM+days+March+1st+2021+004b.jpg" width="268" /></span></a></div><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5PpzA6ZlEBJ1DjznT9H0V15cZOoxsH5UYx0ACXzhI9BGbB5L-jnDTjOkS-e5qdb72CkAuXywBoWl989PswtAWgSW1Vgb1WOVPiDDaGgMtlIILsegiQWziJjN0bo89Beh50qdPoem83jhj/s885/Vietnam+War+Medical+issues+%2526+PYM+days+March+1st+2021+003b.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><img border="0" data-original-height="638" data-original-width="885" height="289" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5PpzA6ZlEBJ1DjznT9H0V15cZOoxsH5UYx0ACXzhI9BGbB5L-jnDTjOkS-e5qdb72CkAuXywBoWl989PswtAWgSW1Vgb1WOVPiDDaGgMtlIILsegiQWziJjN0bo89Beh50qdPoem83jhj/w400-h289/Vietnam+War+Medical+issues+%2526+PYM+days+March+1st+2021+003b.jpg" width="400" /></span></a></div><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMwVqb9RcwGvsc18ECUAdHdiiDm2va6NMqBN09ZQNTaIe_giqCIwHQ3Cz_qqp3Kh3zEaOnrmSdFK5lJVGxINBxK-wTd-yeaAcpSr_yMXJFfTFLzFTigANigTjIyIVRnLLwu9rPC8PnsExP/s839/Vietnam+War+Medical+issues+%2526+PYM+days+March+1st+2021+002b.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><img border="0" data-original-height="839" data-original-width="625" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMwVqb9RcwGvsc18ECUAdHdiiDm2va6NMqBN09ZQNTaIe_giqCIwHQ3Cz_qqp3Kh3zEaOnrmSdFK5lJVGxINBxK-wTd-yeaAcpSr_yMXJFfTFLzFTigANigTjIyIVRnLLwu9rPC8PnsExP/w477-h640/Vietnam+War+Medical+issues+%2526+PYM+days+March+1st+2021+002b.jpg" width="477" /></span></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">Despite US propaganda the Vietnamese had set up highly progressive schools and facilities, and despite their own heroic resistance which included the ability to fire rockets at high flying bombers, it can be seen that children were killed by bombs. The child at the bottom right has pellets from a lethal bomb which hit a pregnant mother. Skilled Vietnamese surgeons removed the pellets and saved the child's life but her young mother died. However it can be seen how happy and healthy the children are in the two </span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">photographs above. </span></div><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYJ0VBlgBXuJiPO6oVyWM0CYZ1ofmOgbRsko8Nb9EC4bgGPu3fHbdLL-IgpgI0z_wSyR8qNlYLnCPfcbtvn_xhk1XQseZIQGuIbD0se4j9rcmoR9mNYo3dlE5D9mYdkhyphenhyphentD909UVDRl-SE/s569/Vietnam+War+Medical+issues+%2526+PYM+days+March+1st+2021+001b.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><img border="0" data-original-height="569" data-original-width="405" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYJ0VBlgBXuJiPO6oVyWM0CYZ1ofmOgbRsko8Nb9EC4bgGPu3fHbdLL-IgpgI0z_wSyR8qNlYLnCPfcbtvn_xhk1XQseZIQGuIbD0se4j9rcmoR9mNYo3dlE5D9mYdkhyphenhyphentD909UVDRl-SE/w456-h640/Vietnam+War+Medical+issues+%2526+PYM+days+March+1st+2021+001b.jpg" width="456" /></span></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">This is the magazine I showed workers at the Freezing works. It was published by the British Medical Aid Committee for Vietnam. ca.1968.</span></div><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEii_cctL1hWd5F6dlPEhpzMpzoemwBmqK5mKFpw98RZPEsQkuptqv5mXEt1_VTh01xhSPTbRoYY1UAoya-t265pmIhIVivqrD36WJCfJc3fF30wjB1OAJBKhRt7QA15Aef8bNhnnWp-L_FB/s883/Vietnam+War+Medical+issues+%2526+PYM+days+March+1st+2021+013b.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><img border="0" data-original-height="745" data-original-width="883" height="338" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEii_cctL1hWd5F6dlPEhpzMpzoemwBmqK5mKFpw98RZPEsQkuptqv5mXEt1_VTh01xhSPTbRoYY1UAoya-t265pmIhIVivqrD36WJCfJc3fF30wjB1OAJBKhRt7QA15Aef8bNhnnWp-L_FB/w400-h338/Vietnam+War+Medical+issues+%2526+PYM+days+March+1st+2021+013b.jpg" width="400" /></span></a></div><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">Devastation as seen here might give the feeling that the US were close to winning but the Vietnamese</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">over time defeated the Chinese, the French, then in WWII they defeated the Japanese, putting Japanese</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">soldiers into jail, the British, working with the French, invaded Indo China and released the Japanese, armed them, and sent them to fight the "rebels" who dangerously sought freedom and real democracy. </span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">However these were defeated by the experienced Vietnamese. Then the French re-established. After prolonged fighting they too were defeated a Dien Bien Phu in 1954. The leaders of the Vietnamese freedom fighters wanted free elections. This was opposed by the US who invaded Vietnam (creating a myth that others were threatening them, and that there was a distinct North and South Vietnam. In the end, as all know, the Vietnamese freedom fighters defeated the clearly demoralised US forces. </span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">_____________________________________________________________ _____________________</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><span><b style="background-color: #fff2cc;">How can I pay homage to Cecil and her son Rewi Kemp (Dick Fowler as I knew him)?</b></span> These atrocities by the US, worse than any the Nazis even began to contemplate were the thing he would have fought to the death to oppose. We know that opposition to War is much more common since WWII. We do have a United Nations. Never before in human times have we got so far to unite all humans. But the US vetoed the efforts of others at the United Nations to allow the Vietnamese free elections to create a truly democratic state. The US, and other Imperialist forces, are not keen on democracy in reality. Their own is hopeless sham. At least Putin, for example, is not hypocritical enough to believe in, or even pretend that such naive and basically weak a system can work, after all, Hitler, Trump and many other have used Bourgeois democracies to lever themselves into power. The US people are brainwashed with anti-Communism. Hence they "know" that the working people can never run the state, that whites and blacks can never work together. They "know" that as they swear allegiance to a rag, a flag, they are supporting a "great system". It is no such thing. Corruption penetrates the entire world, and all of the Americas. We see, in Brazil, Bolsonaro, but he is a typical "American". He supports the super rich. The US also have always supported nations with strategic or resource power. An example now is Saudi Arabia. Instead of working for democracy, they bomb places and the people they put in power, as happened in Vietnam, Panama, Chile (where Allende was killed by US backed forces and replaced by a fascist murderer (thousands of Chileans were murdered by the new regime supported by the US, that wonderful beacon of democracy)) -- and is happening now in Afghanistan, and will happen in Africa and other places. Nor can we expect much, in essence to change under Biden. (The recent withdrawal shows the futility of Imperialist policies and victory of the rightful peoples' rulers of that ancient land). Big Money drives these things and people are still every where ether "in chains" or divided by wage levels and social positions. Still in the US black and Hispanic people are either murdered by police and treated badly. They, all of them, need to unite to overthrow the corrupt Capitalist state. First they need to know their own histories, and know they are working class. </span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"> </span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhl_NmuvologbUkdrKybYt9Pfm0ASDyFq3MFJeYFVmz3evFNNYB_zxyVsbEIntiS1VtqlcIx_Mp74yx8S_1GeZHHOjAIydFybYmVWPsbi-gn_GG9gWUNIoKSLteqVPYVw8KY8VLJlonVBF/s271/Vietnam+War+image+4.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><img border="0" data-original-height="186" data-original-width="271" height="440" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhl_NmuvologbUkdrKybYt9Pfm0ASDyFq3MFJeYFVmz3evFNNYB_zxyVsbEIntiS1VtqlcIx_Mp74yx8S_1GeZHHOjAIydFybYmVWPsbi-gn_GG9gWUNIoKSLteqVPYVw8KY8VLJlonVBF/w640-h440/Vietnam+War+image+4.jpg" width="640" /></span></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="background-color: #eeeeee; color: #ffa400; font-size: x-large;"><b>More bombs were dropped on Vietnam by the US Air Force in one day in many days</b></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="background-color: #eeeeee; color: #ffa400; font-size: x-large;"><b>than had been dropped in the entire time or WWII. </b></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">At the freezing works at times, especially when there was a strike, I would talk to workers, showing them the images of the terrible consequences of Napalm on Vietnam. What wasn't known were the almost continuous massacres, of men women and children, and the rapes of them. Going out on patrol with orders to "search and destroy" became "rape parties". Here I will quote Joanna Bourke from her book<i> An Illustrated History of Killing</i>.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">_____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"> <i> An Illustrated History of Killing</i> by Joanna Bourke.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"> The My Lai massacre is only one terrible example, and it has to be noted that Bourke took her examples from Allied or from British, American, Australian and New Zealand records. But almost no nation has been free of such massacres or in some cases simply examples of bizarre reactions to war. There are many books on war. In such things, there are no "good guys". Nevertheless this is what she demonstrates. It can be argued that war in recent times have become less terrible. But we turn our attention to some we are now aware of in ways people were not leading up to the First War. </span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"> In our so-called Civilization, or as Shadbolt called it, our 'Syphilisation' in his Albert Park speeches, we now have some rules of war. And it is true that attention to war atrocities is a new thing in the 'recent' history of human conflicts.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"> And these examples (she also includes phenomena such as that in the Second World War, the amount of trauma from them was enormous, (whoever we are talking about) and even many not even "in" the war, in clerical positions, suffered severe psychological trauma. </span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"> Most of the protestors were just anti War. They were aware of the political issues but the main impulse was simply against war of any kind. Later I will add some quotes from Bourke's book...</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"> <span style="color: #2b00fe;">_________________________ ______ ________</span></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><span style="color: #2b00fe;"><br /></span></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><span style="color: #2b00fe;"><br /></span></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: xx-large;"> important that people realise I know that this should not become a 'witch-hunt' against Americans (or French or anyone), as if the US people any more than the British or French or even the Japanese people, were criminals. People go to war for complex reasons. It might he shown that we were wrong, as war is said to be necessary by some. Many young people and older consider war necessary. And the US nowadays consists of 350 million people. Many thousands of victims died during the Vietnam war and other Imperialist wars. But as I say these wars are not a new phenomena. And at the time, as I said, I began thinking that war was exciting, despite the fact that I know almost nothing about guns, and nowadays I hate wars. But the anti-Communist propaganda in the 60s was very strong. (One source was </span><i style="font-size: xx-large;">The Reader's Digest,</i><span style="font-size: xx-large;"> which I read as a teenager, as well as</span><i style="font-size: xx-large;"> Time </i><span style="font-size: xx-large;">and sometimes the</span><i style="font-size: xx-large;"> Geographic,</i><span style="font-size: xx-large;"> and</span><i style="font-size: xx-large;"> Life </i><span style="font-size: xx-large;">magazine</span><i style="font-size: xx-large;">. </i><span style="font-size: xx-large;">I found a lot of interesting and often useful information in all of these. I read a lot until I was 20 (1968) then not so much or as widely until about1988 when I started reading very widely and into literature, philosophy and much else. We were reading the "Bourgeois Main or Establishment news, which were tainted, but these had insights and information. I was interested in Science developments such as DNA and cell biology as well as general science but also art, literature and poetry. Also the amusing travel writer of the zoologist Gerald Durrell and his adventures.) I have given some reasons I think the war happened. But sometimes we are just looking at a process of history. In</span><i style="font-size: xx-large;"> The Pursuit of Loneliness</i><span style="font-size: xx-large;"> by Philip Slater (an American whose books sold thousands), Slater sees US society as complex and similarly the phenomena of protest. It is paradoxical that one of the strangest, yet perhaps in many ways most colourful US Presidents, Donald Trump, negotiated very well with the Korean leader, and did not initiate any large military action. Many other Presidents did. Kennedy, who was a brave man, was a fanatically anti-Communist. But some -- such as those of his religion -- Catholicism, or indeed some Moslems -- see this as right. As Communism is and was seen to destroy religion. (In my own view it is not necessary for Marxists to oppose a peoples' choice to practice their faith, nor was the murder of the Russian royal family necessary. It is true that as Mao wrote: "A Revolution is not a tea party." But there were complex psychological and social issues that all the major revolutions from the English to the 1968 Paris uprising and say the Socialist revolution in Chile, missed the need to involve </span><i style="font-size: xx-large;">all</i><span style="font-size: xx-large;"> the people, or a wider base than was reached. Then things tend to settle down and transform into what we knew as Revisionism and just slow change toward new hierarchies etc). This is a complex area and suffice it so say, that my opposition is so that we try to make sure that such wars as Second World War the Vietnam War are not repeated. This may not happen. (It seems that major wars are less likely and that the opposition to the Vietnam War had a deeper and more lasting effect than many realise.) Many young Americans died. Not all were like those Joanna Bourke describes in her book </span><i style="font-size: xx-large;">An Intimate History of Killing. </i><span style="font-size: xx-large;">And the examples she gives imply that whoever is 'left out' could indeed, potentially, have done or not done the same. Terrible as some of the things she reports, they reflect certain brutal realities of ALL WARS, and ALL PEOPLE. Had things been different, I might have been like the great poet Keith Douglas. Douglas's father was a soldier. He left home and Douglas became a devotee of things military and poetry and literature. He broke ranks to get into a tank battle, to join the excitement. Human beings are complex, but in the days I was protesting I was pretty sure of my ground. We were angry, but we didn't hate Americans (perhaps Indians around the time of their large Mutiny of 1857 would not necessarily "hate" the English. The relationship between colonized and colonizers is complex. And this can be seen by a good study of NZ history. The New Zealand Wars need study, but we cant take simplistic "sides". But it is good to study as much as we can, history, and always be ready to re-evaluate our positions.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">But I do think that the working people, the ordinary mostly good people of the world, need to reject this now immense and in many ways while fascinating, deeply divisive and 'empty' world we are now in. We perhaps have to be like doctors who treat everyone regardless of their own or their patients political, religious or other views, or their past actions. The world we are in remains complex. People are complex. </span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">Rewi (Dick) and many of the "left" I knew, knew these things. We hoped for better things in Communist China but we were aware of the dangers of the decline of this away from a strong, real democratic state to a revisionist state that slide back towards Capitalism. Simply put this is what happens. To keep to my subject, Rewi was deeply angered at various unjust (as we saw them then a do so still, but I perhaps with a more complex, or maybe too complex, view) wars & world events but he was well educated and understood many of these complexities. He retained his passion (despite some vicissitudes and "errors" in his own life, and his humanity and courage were not in doubt. He remained more focused in this way than I. I have always doubted and questioned things. I still do.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">But Rewi, at heart remained always angered through sadness at world wide and NZ national injustices. He cared, he had faults, but he deeply cared.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">_______________________________________ _________________________________________</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"> <span style="color: #ffa400;"><span style="font-family: arial;"> </span><span style="font-family: arial;"><b><u>The British in Vietnam</u></b></span></span></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><span> The role of the British in Vietnam just after WWII is not often known. Here are some images. The </span></span><span style="font-size: xx-large;">book </span><i style="font-size: xx-large;">The British in Vietnam - How the twenty-five year war began.</i><span style="font-size: xx-large;"> By George Rosie.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgW1sVIlZv7sEbQ-1H5hKcO8sHsR8T6xvLeBjG5hpe-N1lYeORb9VjxY9GZOFBsXkaBdMui_jRGAIwZiaqPgyTQfQZBaWODspOHVrx6lSS1R3_U8GwINAtM8RgOidYCVnLR17Woq6VXvDJw/s614/British+in+Vietnam+March+2nd+2021+001b.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><img border="0" data-original-height="614" data-original-width="396" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgW1sVIlZv7sEbQ-1H5hKcO8sHsR8T6xvLeBjG5hpe-N1lYeORb9VjxY9GZOFBsXkaBdMui_jRGAIwZiaqPgyTQfQZBaWODspOHVrx6lSS1R3_U8GwINAtM8RgOidYCVnLR17Woq6VXvDJw/w258-h400/British+in+Vietnam+March+2nd+2021+001b.jpg" width="258" /></span></a></div><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"> </span><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj44wk-l82qNa69fmR060Fh2g9tUtBxVkVrE_U978djCoSOeKaoC3AUgN1phuD0I2ClDFEc6rWNYr606-6LF0WzuA_9QDkaQfYemsZoiXrTvubSgbhX8pRzvU8YecYXte5QdOQgdMl7xOUQ/s612/British+in+Vietnam+March+2nd+2021+003b.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><img border="0" data-original-height="612" data-original-width="393" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj44wk-l82qNa69fmR060Fh2g9tUtBxVkVrE_U978djCoSOeKaoC3AUgN1phuD0I2ClDFEc6rWNYr606-6LF0WzuA_9QDkaQfYemsZoiXrTvubSgbhX8pRzvU8YecYXte5QdOQgdMl7xOUQ/s320/British+in+Vietnam+March+2nd+2021+003b.jpg" /></span></a></div><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhuqpsj0mhkWCFrPDLTxC5BxoLIfMPPuNInokGrILq1DSALt92B75AFmOOwlmusnR4zbA9Fxb7v_YHOq65raGVwjXOF0iSSPOdxBEQaZykrqCrNrfW1oNg2bomLc78BiiFvFCkdZxMVr5hq/s2036/British+in+Vietnam+March+2nd+2021+007b.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2036" data-original-width="1341" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhuqpsj0mhkWCFrPDLTxC5BxoLIfMPPuNInokGrILq1DSALt92B75AFmOOwlmusnR4zbA9Fxb7v_YHOq65raGVwjXOF0iSSPOdxBEQaZykrqCrNrfW1oNg2bomLc78BiiFvFCkdZxMVr5hq/w264-h400/British+in+Vietnam+March+2nd+2021+007b.jpg" width="264" /></span></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></div><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhgghCgzQqE_Wpq-JyVkMsqRA_nAA8umME7KusHDiJZDds5MrBoNgU2xYhzLIG6mgJ63WA5VGgw469eLwof-yK6NO6RCve-tzJ1Pp7-WeRFoGQapW6BQQIATqvtYblBhlqWxiH6PBQAsGrn/s1206/British+in+Vietnam+March+2nd+2021+006b.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1206" data-original-width="831" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhgghCgzQqE_Wpq-JyVkMsqRA_nAA8umME7KusHDiJZDds5MrBoNgU2xYhzLIG6mgJ63WA5VGgw469eLwof-yK6NO6RCve-tzJ1Pp7-WeRFoGQapW6BQQIATqvtYblBhlqWxiH6PBQAsGrn/s320/British+in+Vietnam+March+2nd+2021+006b.jpg" /></span></a></div><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBvFsl2osUm0koPaMIiZb8dreFBo6aELQ5MR9gCMxkli7AmJ7_HvzFl8kmEX3MWz1e2tXWNFNBFlAtNhjONg__NJf-vzUEhhdgSeWjLDvwXaH_JZodwkah2MFrlwBu0m-V3blOYSngYQm-/s1267/British+in+Vietnam+March+2nd+2021+002b.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1267" data-original-width="919" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBvFsl2osUm0koPaMIiZb8dreFBo6aELQ5MR9gCMxkli7AmJ7_HvzFl8kmEX3MWz1e2tXWNFNBFlAtNhjONg__NJf-vzUEhhdgSeWjLDvwXaH_JZodwkah2MFrlwBu0m-V3blOYSngYQm-/s320/British+in+Vietnam+March+2nd+2021+002b.jpg" /></span></a></div><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4vaUq9OV288Ab0ej0aHnCMZgvJHw2f0SwyqBOv-V6hoMjFC5ImK-fB7wkAoY4CjrDGOyU0MO2VO9ktWWpDHS9xoZ7AMPF2ucrbrOTWPSyJVdP9b9hjmxX8ZrTXH9S9nU-qFDGWTQlPaNg/s1419/British+in+Vietnam+March+2nd+2021+009b.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><img border="0" data-original-height="855" data-original-width="1419" height="241" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4vaUq9OV288Ab0ej0aHnCMZgvJHw2f0SwyqBOv-V6hoMjFC5ImK-fB7wkAoY4CjrDGOyU0MO2VO9ktWWpDHS9xoZ7AMPF2ucrbrOTWPSyJVdP9b9hjmxX8ZrTXH9S9nU-qFDGWTQlPaNg/w400-h241/British+in+Vietnam+March+2nd+2021+009b.jpg" width="400" /></span></a></div><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /> "<span style="font-family: arial;">Following the collapse of the Japanese in South-east Asia in 1945, British troops occupied the south area of Vietnam. Their mission: to disarm the Japanese forces, arrange for their repatriation -- and establish order in a country ravaged first by ruthless French colonialism and then by a brutal, confused war between the Japanese and their French Vichy allies on one side and guerrilla resistance</span> fighters and opportunist gangsters on the other. Far from restoring order, the British embarked on a violent suppression of the Vietnamese liberation movement (allies in the war against the Japanese until a couple of months previously.) How they did it -- thus setting the scene for decades of bloodshed in a country that has become the flashpoint of the world's tensions -- is revealed in detail in this startling book. The carefully authenticated story it has to tell of political cynicism and military brutality is one that successive governments have kept very quiet about. The revelations in <i>The British in Vietnam</i> should shatter this conspiracy of silence." Comment on reverse of the book.<br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">_______________ _________________________________ __________________________________</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="color: red; font-size: x-large;"><u><b>War in Vietnam</b></u></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">Some images of the effects of war on mostly North Vietnamese hospitals. This "freedom" by bombing the method of the so-called "free" and advanced nations, was really a continuation of the Imperialism of the 19th Century. This also went back to the Spanish invasions of South America, the French and British incursions into Africa, India, China, as well as depredations done to indigenous peoples throughout the world. Indeed Cecil Fowler was also outspoken against these things, including nuclear weapons and US anti-Communism (anti-working class, a way of thinking that has and still pervades so-called "advanced" nations. But we knew well that the USSR had failed in getting Socialism to adhere so to speak, but there were many successes. Today China has fallen victim to 'sugar-coated bullets'. And slavery and Imperialism goes back possibly 5000 years to the first civilizations. Imperialism and war, atrocities and genocide are not new. It has figured largely. Even the Old Testament has God urging men to go back to places and kill men women and children, and indeed, God urges the Israelites in some cases to rape the women. But it all depends on who writes the history. At the time the US was the main Imperialist Power with rivalry from the USSR. </span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"> So I took the British Medical journal's report on Vietnam to show my fellow workers at the freezing works. I may have convinced or influenced some. I gave a short speech about the Vietnam war. I recall Sony Waru, a well known worker at Hellabys, gave a speech. He is pictured in Stock in Trade by Dick Scott. </span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">---------------------------------------------------------- ----------------------------------------------- -----------------</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjbB4Hcr7WRt_hUe_s5F2BEllCVNQYF8BhPcOdBjkbW_GyNPjQ2y_94tlcVk7j0X-k9LPGbmfSqr4Gd7WWKG7ty_OLeTS8D_OBVsA1Qr3sYJwpTSeterTT6gMc0mnCHh-ddPyzC7PEgelCK/s1185/Vietnam+War+Medical+issues+%2526+PYM+days+March+1st+2021+015b.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><img border="0" data-original-height="909" data-original-width="1185" height="308" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjbB4Hcr7WRt_hUe_s5F2BEllCVNQYF8BhPcOdBjkbW_GyNPjQ2y_94tlcVk7j0X-k9LPGbmfSqr4Gd7WWKG7ty_OLeTS8D_OBVsA1Qr3sYJwpTSeterTT6gMc0mnCHh-ddPyzC7PEgelCK/w400-h308/Vietnam+War+Medical+issues+%2526+PYM+days+March+1st+2021+015b.jpg" width="400" /></span></a></div><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"> The baby shown 'has lost his leg in a bombing raid and has just been released from hospital. He will receive all possible aid and will be fitted with a makeshift limb as proper prosthetic devices are not yet available in North Vietnam'. (In 1968). Top right are: 'Underground cradles in a kindergarten'. And bottom right: 'Schoolchildren of Vinh Linh province, whose schoolrooms are also underground, are pointing to new supplies in an underground bookshop.' </span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhEjzFjodco3hr7cSaQPQSYf7vXm2I7tPHjllm3x1q513NNggQ7ExWb5KYc1o5KlM-Q1o1pv7KtdY3UQNjfIffrjwGxEbbatZlLcU0WWzvrzfe33HCeA9yWHuDmDu5S_mCkgGlE-uzjkytj/s1086/Vietnam+War+Medical+issues+%2526+PYM+days+March+1st+2021+005b.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><img border="0" data-original-height="795" data-original-width="1086" height="293" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhEjzFjodco3hr7cSaQPQSYf7vXm2I7tPHjllm3x1q513NNggQ7ExWb5KYc1o5KlM-Q1o1pv7KtdY3UQNjfIffrjwGxEbbatZlLcU0WWzvrzfe33HCeA9yWHuDmDu5S_mCkgGlE-uzjkytj/w400-h293/Vietnam+War+Medical+issues+%2526+PYM+days+March+1st+2021+005b.jpg" width="400" /></span></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">These beautiful children of Vietnam were in a nation</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">bombed in to this: </span></div><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"> </span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_iFuYUEYZPreA88xr25qDcweBoMVRwWdzSAhMt2JsTCUClyk9sPkYkitqgcAkpfhf4kgRGS62zqXFN_jk58ZJofR_r7WVPUqEVPNlMlu_pkdG02ePs1xxDt5G8LrLTYi6_URFQIW870ou/s1339/Vietnam+War+Medical+issues+%2526+PYM+days+March+1st+2021+018b.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1009" data-original-width="1339" height="301" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_iFuYUEYZPreA88xr25qDcweBoMVRwWdzSAhMt2JsTCUClyk9sPkYkitqgcAkpfhf4kgRGS62zqXFN_jk58ZJofR_r7WVPUqEVPNlMlu_pkdG02ePs1xxDt5G8LrLTYi6_URFQIW870ou/w400-h301/Vietnam+War+Medical+issues+%2526+PYM+days+March+1st+2021+018b.jpg" width="400" /></span></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">'Death, destruction, hunger and pestilence are reflected in the faces of this wounded </span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">Vietnamese woman and her children, watching in horror as American planes continue</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">to bomb NLF forces.'</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></div><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3MG_0kOMez7vUcmLc5Pd-Hre0WF6GwuqgGIkahrh2ertsJhxqJcZReyBGKW7elJiKKwFJT30Z2wLao7MYEbzwm2t_Lv7_RGrkQk152DThercuZogDvnpcXn7RXkAjl42fFwKPFTEjJnmP/s1551/Vietnam+War+Medical+issues+%2526+PYM+days+March+1st+2021+017b.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1049" data-original-width="1551" height="270" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3MG_0kOMez7vUcmLc5Pd-Hre0WF6GwuqgGIkahrh2ertsJhxqJcZReyBGKW7elJiKKwFJT30Z2wLao7MYEbzwm2t_Lv7_RGrkQk152DThercuZogDvnpcXn7RXkAjl42fFwKPFTEjJnmP/w400-h270/Vietnam+War+Medical+issues+%2526+PYM+days+March+1st+2021+017b.jpg" width="400" /></span></a></div><div><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></div><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZFcC5Tq4izINTV8_YeSCw9kJgADgCI1bKEdLVJak6FoNtwEjSxZ4dhAb-SyaGxp2g2CBH-5q3zvGZWlXiSomeKJNX0xJYmfmCACQfMnB_hL8Ff7u7qGWGrBT4TVeUlGAwGr4C3iqNQWMN/s1143/Vietnam+War+Medical+issues+%2526+PYM+days+March+1st+2021+016b.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><img border="0" data-original-height="898" data-original-width="1143" height="314" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZFcC5Tq4izINTV8_YeSCw9kJgADgCI1bKEdLVJak6FoNtwEjSxZ4dhAb-SyaGxp2g2CBH-5q3zvGZWlXiSomeKJNX0xJYmfmCACQfMnB_hL8Ff7u7qGWGrBT4TVeUlGAwGr4C3iqNQWMN/w400-h314/Vietnam+War+Medical+issues+%2526+PYM+days+March+1st+2021+016b.jpg" width="400" /></span></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">'Victims of toxic gas used in US air raids.' Gas use in war had</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">been outlawed in world law and not even used by the Nazis. But</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">the US had not declared war. They, thousands of miles from </span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">these people who never looked remotely like attacking the US: they</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">the US were "on defence". They had to defend themselves against</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">Communism. But communism never came. The Vietnamese had </span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">no way of attacking the US, no huge ships, no great land army,</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">no missiles or airforce. What they had wanted was to be left in</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">peace, and to make their own lives. They wanted their country</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">back from the brutal French colonialist (whose record their and in</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">Algeria was atrocious). They had defeated them, and the Japanese </span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"> but were betrayed by the British, and had to defeat the French again.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">They built hospitals and underground shelters, and secret anti-</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">aircraft missile bases. Their scientists did research into mosquito </span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">problems, they enabled real equality between men and women,</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">they distributed polio vaccines. They defeated the so-called</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">most powerful nation in the world. They won despite these terrible</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">crimes perpetrated on them.</span></div><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFkuA8I3un2uiXPdgdtlFuo8VUzbbSE3FZM69U3t18eppblt-Ht2Fb08tCl-HU32HbP7jHHV4GZ5_-a2xVpD3yoape0XY55T5u9FDJu8DRvWykWnBS5LK3ZunW0rUb0TfwArkyV628pL89/s1185/Vietnam+War+Medical+issues+%2526+PYM+days+March+1st+2021+015b.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><img border="0" data-original-height="909" data-original-width="1185" height="492" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFkuA8I3un2uiXPdgdtlFuo8VUzbbSE3FZM69U3t18eppblt-Ht2Fb08tCl-HU32HbP7jHHV4GZ5_-a2xVpD3yoape0XY55T5u9FDJu8DRvWykWnBS5LK3ZunW0rUb0TfwArkyV628pL89/w640-h492/Vietnam+War+Medical+issues+%2526+PYM+days+March+1st+2021+015b.jpg" width="640" /></span></a></div><div><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></div><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhOgZC7zLJDmG4COpBLcwziGoPYuOoFN3h6pT4C5pBijEsI7x3jNKc1H_JOTmqX9Q_QRnH21WnFsearc9O5Nlk81SDilfkOpIBAbcdMgcd0_nBlSAUMVPUs-_ISvosQg0N9wY_9TSRZQr1s/s891/Vietnam+War+Medical+issues+%2526+PYM+days+March+1st+2021+014b.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><img border="0" data-original-height="722" data-original-width="891" height="518" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhOgZC7zLJDmG4COpBLcwziGoPYuOoFN3h6pT4C5pBijEsI7x3jNKc1H_JOTmqX9Q_QRnH21WnFsearc9O5Nlk81SDilfkOpIBAbcdMgcd0_nBlSAUMVPUs-_ISvosQg0N9wY_9TSRZQr1s/w640-h518/Vietnam+War+Medical+issues+%2526+PYM+days+March+1st+2021+014b.jpg" width="640" /></span></a></div><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">'Newly evacuated children (facing camera) meet those previously</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">evacuated from the city to a village kindergarten. </span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"> </span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQ6SA-t_73afdXuQs8RnY5tchPceQngJUe9CDTZApRc9BrmVrvydbuEg0p1w1gwUWgRnXeBhipYwx3BvgrnbWcEBlUyTGGfp6tUpFAldycWhWxFhRDYYgUVO6WSCjcfS8IfaHax7EgAUvI/s1014/Vietnam+War+Medical+issues+%2526+PYM+days+March+1st+2021+020b.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><img border="0" data-original-height="671" data-original-width="1014" height="265" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQ6SA-t_73afdXuQs8RnY5tchPceQngJUe9CDTZApRc9BrmVrvydbuEg0p1w1gwUWgRnXeBhipYwx3BvgrnbWcEBlUyTGGfp6tUpFAldycWhWxFhRDYYgUVO6WSCjcfS8IfaHax7EgAUvI/w400-h265/Vietnam+War+Medical+issues+%2526+PYM+days+March+1st+2021+020b.jpg" width="400" /></span></a></div><div><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><span> </span><span> </span><span>The US Airforce dropped terrible pellet bombs, gas, defoliants, diseases, and napalm. This </span>is a form jellied petrol that causes terrible burns that kill or they dis figure people for life. At the time the Vietnamese had insufficient medical resources -- as well as fighting a defensive war -- to treat these effects. And there is almost no way to reverse this scarring and tissue damage. </span></div><div><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></div><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEglZDessNWT2GHGE39hVFiHTyt4NDkMJaQ2Cw_p345pEDG4KIayHBcSK8mgFE1oB3Gky0ohyN0HyqF6iqZaRBXMksDyXTtDKtekt9CHLKzmuwd_p1G2XF2Gl1lqlU_t5EkqfGwIqeGitnxD/s2048/Vietnam+War+Medical+issues+%2526+PYM+days+March+1st+2021+019b.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1309" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEglZDessNWT2GHGE39hVFiHTyt4NDkMJaQ2Cw_p345pEDG4KIayHBcSK8mgFE1oB3Gky0ohyN0HyqF6iqZaRBXMksDyXTtDKtekt9CHLKzmuwd_p1G2XF2Gl1lqlU_t5EkqfGwIqeGitnxD/w410-h640/Vietnam+War+Medical+issues+%2526+PYM+days+March+1st+2021+019b.jpg" width="410" /></span></a></div><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">'Ho Van Bot, aged 13, was one of the victims of napalm, with burns on his cheeks, both hands and knees, and parts of his body. Interviewed after hospitalization, he said:</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"> "I felt fire burning all over my face and body. The heat was terrible and it seemed to burn right into my bones. My body was a living torch. My younger brother was less severely burned than I was. But </span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">because he was younger and the (mortar) shells burst close to him, he became deaf and mentally confused....Most of the 160 students at our school were burnt or wounded and some were killed on the spot... Of those seriously burned like me only 62 survived. My teacher died. So did 32 friends."</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"> </span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-large; text-align: left;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="color: red; font-size: x-large; text-align: left;"><b>This was the achievement of the heroic war against Vietnam. </b></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-large; text-align: left;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><span style="text-align: left;">The late New Zealand poet David Mitchell wrote some great poems.(I didn't know him in the 70s or until about 1991 or so.) Once at University when I </span><span style="text-align: left;">returned in the 90s to study English Lit and Philosophy I met him there and also at poetry readings </span><span style="text-align: left;">he appeared at the Shakespeare once to a great attendance. He died sadly in 2011. I know his daughter Genevieve McLean, who is herself a great poet and performer. As an essay I had compared a poem by Alan Curnow with one by Mitchell and my conclusion was </span><span style="text-align: left;">that re these two poems Mitchell's was the best for me. The My Lai massacre tormented him, and </span><span style="text-align: left;">like many in NZ and the world he opposed the Vietnam war. He </span><span style="text-align: left;">re is one of his poems of that kind. I recall when the soldiers returned. Holyoake, the long time Prime Minister tried to speak. He started: 'I am not aware...' to great laughter. The soldiers were not popular. They had become murderers in many peoples minds.</span></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: x-large; text-align: left;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><span style="text-align: left;"> </span><span style="text-align: left;">ponsonby/
remuera/ my lai</span></span></div>
<p style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br />
</span></p>
<p style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"> <span style="font-size: x-large;"><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span>th warrior's come home</span></p>
<p style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"> <span style="font-size: x-large;"><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span>there he goes!</span></p>
<p style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"> <span style="font-size: x-large;"><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span>right</span></p>
<p style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"> <span style="font-size: x-large;"><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span>here</span></p>
<p style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"> <span style="font-size: x-large;"><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span>& now</span></p>
<p style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"> </p>
<p style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"> <span style="font-size: x-large;"><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span></span></p><p style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span>up queen street</span></p>
<p style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"> <span style="font-size: x-large;"><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span>a gun carrier</span></p>
<p style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></p><p style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"> palm to th clear brow</span></p>
<p style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"> <span style="font-size: x-large;"><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span>in th oldest, most obscene</span></p>
<p style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"> <span style="font-size: x-large;"><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span>salute</span></p>
<p style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"> <span style="font-size: x-large;"><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span>& in the eyes</span></p>
<p style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"> <span style="font-size: x-large;"><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span>th mandrake root–
</span></p>
<p style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br />
</span></p>
<p style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"> <span style="font-size: x-large;"><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span>th blackened bone.</span></p>
<p style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br />
</span></p>
<p style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"> <span style="font-size: x-large;"><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span>2 million years</span></p>
<p style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"> <span style="font-size: x-large;"><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span>have proved nothing</span></p>
<p style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"> <span style="font-size: x-large;"><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span>he did not already know</span></p>
<p style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"> <span style="font-size: x-large;"><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span>ah ! there he goes !
</span></p>
<p style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"> </p>
<p style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"> <span style="font-size: x-large;"><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span>th kiwi's come home,</span></p>
<p style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br />
</span></p>
<p style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"> <span style="font-size: x-large;"><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span>he sits in the barber's chair</span></p>
<p style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"> <span style="font-size: x-large;"><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span>'short back & sides'</span></p>
<p style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"> <span style="font-size: x-large;"><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span>& he
</span></p>
<p style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"> <span style="font-size: x-large;"><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span>lingers in the chemist</span></p>
<p style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"> <span style="font-size: x-large;"><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span>buying coloured slides</span></p>
<p style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"> <span style="font-size: x-large;"><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span>& he</span></p>
<p style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"> <span style="font-size: x-large;"><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span>ponders on time / yeah. &
</span></p>
<p style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"> <span style="font-size: x-large;"><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span>destiny; /
</span></p>
<p style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"> <span style="font-size: x-large;"><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span>also the fates. . .</span></p>
<p style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br />
</span></p>
<p style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"> <span style="font-size: x-large;"><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span>& he
</span></p>
<p style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"> <span style="font-size: x-large;"><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span>sits in th kitchen</span></p>
<p style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"> <span style="font-size: x-large;"><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span>playing poker with his mates</span></p>
<p style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"> <span style="font-size: x-large;"><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span>& he</span></p>
<p style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"> <span style="font-size: x-large;"><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span>contemplates his hand</span></p>
<p style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"> <span style="font-size: x-large;"><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span>& he
</span></p>
<p style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"> <span style="font-size: x-large;"><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span>holds a king</span></p>
<p style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"> <span style="font-size: x-large;"><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span>to each soft lip</span></p>
<p style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"> <span style="font-size: x-large;"><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span>in turn</span></p>
<p style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br />
</span></p>
<p style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"> <span style="font-size: x-large;"><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span>& the other's pass</span></p>
<p style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"> <span style="font-size: x-large;"><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span>( and he waits his turn )</span></p>
<p style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br />
</span></p>
<p style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"> <span style="font-size: x-large;"><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span>& 30 seconds pass</span></p>
<p style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"> <span style="font-size: x-large;"><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span>and he </span></p>
<p style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"> <span style="font-size: x-large;"><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span>plays his hand</span></p>
<p style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br />
</span></p>
<p style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"> <span style="font-size: x-large;"><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span>&</span></p>
<p style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"> <span style="font-size: x-large;"><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span>children burn. </span></p>
<p style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><span style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"> </span></span></div><p style="margin-bottom: 0cm; text-align: justify;"><span><span><span><span><span style="font-size: x-large;"> <b>David Mitchell</b> had a great ability to read these poems. Unfortunately the My Lai massacre was</span></span></span></span></span></p><p style="margin-bottom: 0cm; text-align: justify;"><span><span><span><span><span style="font-size: x-large;">only one of many such: these are outlined in some books I will show and give references. The </span></span></span></span></span></p><p style="margin-bottom: 0cm; text-align: justify;"><span><span><span><span><span style="font-size: x-large;">issues of war and wars are complex. In simple terms Vietnam and Communism weren't really the</span></span></span></span></span></p><p style="margin-bottom: 0cm; text-align: justify;"><span><span><span><span><span style="font-size: x-large;">main US targets (although the US is strongly anti-Communist, and they (many) seem to lack, overall (as do throughout the world), an in depth understanding of history in general and indeed, even of their own country. The main object was of course to either invade and take China or encircle it. They got bogged</span></span></span></span></span></p><p style="margin-bottom: 0cm; text-align: justify;"><span><span><span><span><span style="font-size: x-large;">down in Vietnam. But as I want to say more about those days and Mrs Fowler and Rewi I will continue having shown one of our concerns, and something of what motivated us. </span></span></span></span></span></p><p style="margin-bottom: 0cm; text-align: justify;"><span><span><span><span><span style="font-size: x-large;">I liked working at the Freezing Works and the paradox was that, when I started their, in the holidays at the end of 1965/66 I was considered a good worker. I liked people there. The Pacific Island people, the others working on the slaughter house. My father had designed the beef house (copied from an Australian works and automated (e.g. hides were removed using hydraulic "hands"). I must put some images from Dick Scott's book. </span></span></span></span></span></p><p style="margin-bottom: 0cm; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">Dick Scott is important as, along with the issues of the Vietnam war, colonialism throughout the world including NZ was another point of disaffection and protest by the NZ Black Panthers and Nga Tamatoa, and in theory the PYM allied itself with them. I actually arranged a meeting with Pat Hohepa trying to convince him that a united front was important. It could even, I proposed lead to a positive revolution. He thought that in that (imagined) case, Maori might be "sacrificed" or words to that effect. Actually I had thought of his objection. I knew that the theory of those behind the PYM, The People's Voice had a kind of naivety. Rhetoric was used (this is always used by humans esp. in politics). There were not enough concrete examples. Later Socialist and other parties developed and they became sometimes more complex, more aware of the political subtleties. But Dick Scott wrote a very significant book called Ask that Mountain about the tragic but heroic (mostly passive) resistance of Maori against the general push by the settlers and the British Army (urged on by Governor Gray) in the NZ Wars. In the process Maori, who had been supplying Auckland with produce, lost huge areas of land not only in the Waikato and the South Island, but in Parihaka and the rich areas of Taranaki. Many of those in the "broad front" of protests and political actions at that time (Helen Clark, later to become NZ's first woman protestor, was a protestor in those days) were concerned about these issues and the general land issues and issues connected to teh Treaty of Waitangi remain important today. Cecil Fowler was very much involved in this as Betty Wark, a Maori woman I and my then girlfriend, Mary Manoah, (later to become my wife until about 1994), met a lot. She and Cecil Fowler was involved with these issues of poor people in the local area and Maori and Pasifika issues in general. The issues weren't just male orientated or Eurocentric. (But more of this.)</span></p><p style="margin-bottom: 0cm; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">But now I shall tell also of the day Dick and Cecil turned up to take me to court. I had been arrested by a Detective in Ponsonby where there was a pool shop. Young men played there. </span></p><p style="margin-bottom: 0cm; text-align: justify;"><span><span><span><span><span style="font-size: x-large;">In our fervour we "witnessed" the harassment of these young Pacific or Maori men. I had been arrested b</span></span></span></span></span><span style="font-size: xx-large;">y a detective, as I had told a young man he didn't need to necessarily reveal his name to police unless he had been charged. I taken to Auckland Central Police Station and finger printed. A court appearance had been arranged. One of the things Cecil did was so keep tabs on those in the PYM or 'the left' who were charged. She and Dick turned up one day. I had to explain, I had forgotten. We went in. I was dismissed with virtually no charge. Mrs Fowler was amused at my forgetfulness. </span></p><p style="margin-bottom: 0cm; text-align: justify;"><span><span><span><span><span style="font-size: x-large;"> </span></span></span></span></span></p><p style="margin-bottom: 0cm; text-align: justify;"><span><span><span><span style="font-size: x-large;"><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span></span></span></span></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span><span><span style="font-size: x-large;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEju8b6tjApSn8jXPpttGVMcrVomAPYnL4DdLVOUyUFOb1ON7qB9aCL6crCx2bCJVTthFmJb5JANOxFlRHtfyuJJmX3fLhLqgowH-qEqQz9N9xKGNw1JsT-slNiF1_z5uEeK8FCM8gZ4ptI_/s2048/Protest+days+Bill+Lee+PYM+Agnew+demo+Shadbolt+Feb+2021+005b.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1920" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEju8b6tjApSn8jXPpttGVMcrVomAPYnL4DdLVOUyUFOb1ON7qB9aCL6crCx2bCJVTthFmJb5JANOxFlRHtfyuJJmX3fLhLqgowH-qEqQz9N9xKGNw1JsT-slNiF1_z5uEeK8FCM8gZ4ptI_/w375-h400/Protest+days+Bill+Lee+PYM+Agnew+demo+Shadbolt+Feb+2021+005b.jpg" width="375" /></a></span></span></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span><span><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></span></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span><span><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></span></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span><span><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></span></span></div><span><span style="font-size: x-large;"><span><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh41HmYJSDqJ6stCt6-a_Ba9RycqgzPKMbA3EJPOqeaOzmPpJNgW4rj_lYBk8A-25Aq-SBDfERDC-kOiOaDFxWfZ3MRl4swJ93kQOerU7M170EDDZkvYIZGn0ErwaCa5Xns2YjYVQG8_wI1/s2048/Protest+days+Bill+Lee+PYM+Agnew+demo+Shadbolt+Feb+2021+004b.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1862" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh41HmYJSDqJ6stCt6-a_Ba9RycqgzPKMbA3EJPOqeaOzmPpJNgW4rj_lYBk8A-25Aq-SBDfERDC-kOiOaDFxWfZ3MRl4swJ93kQOerU7M170EDDZkvYIZGn0ErwaCa5Xns2YjYVQG8_wI1/w364-h400/Protest+days+Bill+Lee+PYM+Agnew+demo+Shadbolt+Feb+2021+004b.jpg" width="364" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">____________________________________________ __________________________</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">A time before the Protest. Here Roger Fowler (not related to Dick) is</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">playing in his group that played "jolly" music at Albert Park that</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">had been liberated by the PYM and others who all rushed up from</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Myer's Park. These were exciting times to be alive, and even more to</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">be young...to paraphrase Wordsworth on the French Revolution. Roger Fowler also </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">became involved in helping the people -- the working class -- especially</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">of Ponsonby. He and others by 1971 or so had begun food banks for </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">working class people in Ponsonby (we, my wife to be, lived for a while in Lincoln Street</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">in Ponsonby and I worked in various factories around that area).</div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTX0bjPObbpVs3Qe5erLmL57m68gx0SaPG3LsevFIxYd-NYoXJZfRAEVHLcE646lWzV1LluVSipT_rfhotHeR1eH2mv0HcDZiZe1avCwaZo70FhOVsR80X2BR6x6GUu5phrMLAXzPtSMIe/s2048/Protest+days+Bill+Lee+PYM+Agnew+demo+Shadbolt+Feb+2021+002b.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2007" data-original-width="2048" height="393" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTX0bjPObbpVs3Qe5erLmL57m68gx0SaPG3LsevFIxYd-NYoXJZfRAEVHLcE646lWzV1LluVSipT_rfhotHeR1eH2mv0HcDZiZe1avCwaZo70FhOVsR80X2BR6x6GUu5phrMLAXzPtSMIe/w400-h393/Protest+days+Bill+Lee+PYM+Agnew+demo+Shadbolt+Feb+2021+002b.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><p style="margin-bottom: 0cm; text-align: justify;"><span><span><span><span><span>_________________________ ____________________________ __________________________</span></span></span></span></span></p><p style="margin-bottom: 0cm; text-align: justify;"><span><span><span><span><span><br /></span></span></span></span></span></p><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmmUQJtwA9MfslOhmI9k7tcSyrn7cE4uElQ34Umt3U_iYje5TXIjbRwcw026-4EwTIWIqIDCn5TsubBa6mfvF-UjIVFD9fxn3WHZTKMInG9w2XU4p5hSA30jc-FARFqcKCnlC1oULVayRA/s2048/Protest+days+Bill+Lee+PYM+Agnew+demo+Shadbolt+Feb+2021+001b.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1865" data-original-width="2048" height="582" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmmUQJtwA9MfslOhmI9k7tcSyrn7cE4uElQ34Umt3U_iYje5TXIjbRwcw026-4EwTIWIqIDCn5TsubBa6mfvF-UjIVFD9fxn3WHZTKMInG9w2XU4p5hSA30jc-FARFqcKCnlC1oULVayRA/w640-h582/Protest+days+Bill+Lee+PYM+Agnew+demo+Shadbolt+Feb+2021+001b.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br /></span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span> This is Shadbolt's 'Masterpiece'? It shows a lot of what was going on.</span></span></div><div><span style="font-size: x-large;">Shadbolt was then and I presume still is, a remarkable man. A great orator who drew crowds simply by</span></div><div><span style="font-size: x-large;">his presence, his wit, his humour, his passion in his speeches at Albert Park. Later he became Mayor of</span></div><div><span style="font-size: x-large;">West Auckland, and is now as of writing the Mayor of Invercargill. In protests he was fearless.<br /></span><p></p><p style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><span><span><span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span> </span></span></span><span><span><span> </span><span> </span> </span> </span><span> </span><span> </span></span></p><p style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><span style="color: red;">___________________________________ _____ _____________________________________</span>___</span></p>
<p style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"> I had already met<b> Charlie Baker</b>.
Charlie Baker had been born in Glasgow. He was short, dark
complexioned like my father: but he had been a soldier before the
Second World War and during it. He was virtually the unofficial
'theoretician' of the NZ Communist Party. I used to live then in
Georgina Street, Ponsonby with members of various disparate groups
and of various types. I was one of the few who always worked
somewhere. At wool stores, factories, the freezing works, and then
the Railway Workshops. There I met Ray Gogh, Charlie Baker, Steve
Boreham and others. (More of these later). Charlie would meet me on
the train at the Glenn Innes station. He was always reading. He had,
he told me, a photographic mind, he read somehow by paragraphs rather
than words of sentences: he read <i>The Arms of Krupps</i>, a large
book, and various other things including a book about Jean-Paul
Sartre, who he told me, was an 'existentialist' Marxist. I was only
learning about Marxism then. Charlie talked and talked. He could talk
for hours (so can I these days) and the information and ideas and
memories he had from his reading, his experiences in the British
Army, where he became a Sergeant; and also became a Marxist-Leninist.
Later he added Mao Tse Tung (now the name has changed). Also going back and forth on that train
was the Republican enthusiast and theorist Bruce Jesson reading
various political books. Some were Marxist. The time lines of these
events get mixed but at the time I mentioned it to Frank Lane, who
said: 'Why would he be reading such things?' Perhaps ironically.
Frank read Jesson's magazine or broadsheet. </span></p><p style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">We would get out at the
Otahuhu Workshops and have breakfast. This meal I looked forward to.</span></p>
<p style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"> Meanwhile Bill Lee had trained at
the<b> Railway Workshops</b> as a fitter, he had become a Communist and
organised a strike of trainees to get shorter training time. He
became the <b>Leader of the PYM</b> (the Progressive Youth Movement). His
brother Barry Lee who I also knew from school had joined the Police
Force. But handing out<i> The People's Voice*</i>, which I started to
read in those days he was considered not of the 'right' way of thinking to be a police
man and was sacked. I was by this time attending PYM meetings every
week. They took place in a room upstairs at St.Kevin's Arcade, K'
Road, Auckland. As the general political protest movement grew in the
60s and even while I was there it grew hugely, Bill Lee and others
ran the 'militant' group. </span></p>
<p style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"> In the City, not too far from the
Town Hall, across the road, was a place called <b>'Resistance'</b> where
students and 'hippies' and others met and lived. They were a general
group who planned protest marches. There I met others including one
of the Bower brothers, who I knew had used bombs to blow doors to
Army recruitment offices etc as a protest to the Vietnam War (it has
been and perhaps should now be called 'The American War'). Because we
hated the forces of "justice" we sat there one day
discussing how to tunnel under the Central Police Station and destroy
it. For me this was a kind of insane pipe dream I believed in. For
the other young man it was a real possibility. In general though such
direct violent actions were not encouraged or condoned by anyone I
knew in the PYM of the Communist Party. But had this crisis of the
world continued it was a definite possibility. (I see now that someone
(one of the Bower brothers?) started tunnelling from Constitution
Hill, at in an effort to set explosives under the Supreme Court.</span></p>
<p style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br />
</span></p>
<p style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"> Meanwhile I met<b> Rewi Kemp</b>. I knew
him, as I said, as Dick Fowler. So he was Richard Fowler. I never
thought of him as a Richard. We always called him Dick. He later
changed his name to Rewi Kemp. He died in 2015. I met him and <b>Jim
Dolimore</b> at the PYM. In the days I joined the numbers of young
people joining the protest movement was increasing exponentially. Up
'till then protests were relatively small, but by 1970 they
escalated, as people realised both the horror of the various Wars by
the United States, other Imperialist wars and such as the iniquity
of Apartheid, the destruction of Palestine by the Zionists in Israel,
the Algerian struggle against France. Quite a lot became interested
in Communism and or alternative or "hippy" ways of life. I
was not interested in the hippy thing or even in "60s music".
My musical interest had always been in classical music. And gradually
I have become, over time, less and less interested in any music --
except for the <i>ideas</i> of certain avant-garde and experimental
music. These days I cannot easily concentrate on music and prefer
silence.
</span></p>
<p style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">_________________________________________ <span style="color: #f1c232;"><b>//////////////////////////////\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\</b></span> _______________ _____________________ ____ </span></p><p style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> <span> </span><span> </span><span> </span> Marxism and Other Ideas</span><br /></span></p><p style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><a href="https://www.dw.com/en/marx-continues-to-influence-125-years-after-his-death/a-3190306">Marxism - Significance of</a> (A link to a short essay on Marx)<br /></span></p><p style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><b>Marxism is important</b>. If it was, as some might say: it remains so. But these days we might pay attention to many other thinkers and also Trotsky, Bahkunin, and the issues of today. The phenomena of fascism arising out of democracy in Germany and the State being or acting as though more oppressive than -- as Lenin said of a failed Bolshevik Revolution. Also there was the fate of the Russian intellectuals and the strange existential dilemma of present day China. This is to a large extent due to what is known as Revisionism. But also due to the desire of humans to form systems. To make of "great men" gods, and to be human. So we have to look wider. Around the time of the Russian Revolution Futurism and many art and cultural movements were extant Akmatova survived the suppression of Bourgeois intellectuals, others were murdered by the paranoid Stalin. Effectively this happened to Mandelstam. The Revolutions of the Russia and later Cuba led to many vital movements in the arts and even science. Mayakovsky, also in, it seems, a possible deep dilemma over his mix of Futurism and support of the USSR and Lenin etc committed suicide. Later in Cuba Che Guevara and Castro implemented a mostly successful revolution ridding that nation of US and Capitalist corruption. Hemmingway, another great writer, befriended and admired Castro. </span></p><p style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"> <span style="color: #cc0000; font-family: arial;"><b> Some interesting poets of the Russian revolutionary times: </b></span></span></p><p style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiP847OpLjl_FR0vFWQJjVHZ7FYOuTVrFOSbPNSTU4fvPBTN3KeFcF4-3nVRQhO25PAMWrlDN-GXea0eTUDa4HzYrHWR24iC7AnrwGps0byacuwHkYAxRQR8S10cNiGFkim9z6h6ycYKBd2/s500/Russian+poet+Anna+Ahmatova.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><img border="0" data-original-height="500" data-original-width="370" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiP847OpLjl_FR0vFWQJjVHZ7FYOuTVrFOSbPNSTU4fvPBTN3KeFcF4-3nVRQhO25PAMWrlDN-GXea0eTUDa4HzYrHWR24iC7AnrwGps0byacuwHkYAxRQR8S10cNiGFkim9z6h6ycYKBd2/w474-h640/Russian+poet+Anna+Ahmatova.jpg" width="474" /></span></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">Ahkamatova </span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">Her husband was murdered many died or committed suicide (Mandelstam, Tsvetaeva and others).</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">Her poetry is definitely worth reading. She wrote some of the great poems of the time.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">Her influences from outside Russia were large. D M Thomas who translated Pushkin also translates her. She was at least twice nominated for the Nobel Prize.</span></div><div><br /></div><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqhaTyeWcxflVPw5m_zusOUzKh-3-C7kaYiiKuidfVkfolwT4bJgqLBwywD3WRuD17sJVTINeAIZbnoApA8XQ3kgk6p7F1M3-PZGvrmh1hUD0gA3PxsfvTTxCfH4Pr2v426VByAepm-An1/s360/Russian+Poet+Osip++Mandelstam.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><img border="0" data-original-height="225" data-original-width="360" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqhaTyeWcxflVPw5m_zusOUzKh-3-C7kaYiiKuidfVkfolwT4bJgqLBwywD3WRuD17sJVTINeAIZbnoApA8XQ3kgk6p7F1M3-PZGvrmh1hUD0gA3PxsfvTTxCfH4Pr2v426VByAepm-An1/w640-h400/Russian+Poet+Osip++Mandelstam.jpg" width="640" /></span></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">Mandelstam</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">He died probably due to the stress of exile. One of the great poets.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">Like Pasternak and others he was of great import. Celan the German-Jewish</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">modernist was affected greatly by his work.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjajqolZj9DRUSqczhpsNvszzxHR01gUQWtuK3IZSyE6rQOTZkUPgKuAhwPRnJNlEIbsnT041ryKVvKgbQbASnJrYDnymdgZ4eby1jLLuwUmX6IiW40ydEzX_3xWapDVnBIEMBUqeDj-iP4/s260/Russian+poet+Mayakovsky.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><img border="0" data-original-height="260" data-original-width="193" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjajqolZj9DRUSqczhpsNvszzxHR01gUQWtuK3IZSyE6rQOTZkUPgKuAhwPRnJNlEIbsnT041ryKVvKgbQbASnJrYDnymdgZ4eby1jLLuwUmX6IiW40ydEzX_3xWapDVnBIEMBUqeDj-iP4/w475-h640/Russian+poet+Mayakovsky.jpg" width="475" /></span></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">Mayakovsky</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">Maykovsky was a communist before the Revolution. He continued to believe</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">in it. Or did he? His motivation for suicide may also have been problems with a love affair.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">Flamboyant, in the days leading to the revolution he read with others, sometimes "futurists"</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">or perhaps ACMEists. He may have been one of the most structurally innovative of the</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">poets. Around 1918 to 1924 there was much activity in art, poetry, music and much else.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"> </span></div><span style="font-size: x-large;"> ___________________________________ <span style="color: #fcff01;">_____________________________________________</span></span><p style="margin-bottom: 0cm; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">But it should be said that most were
not strong on Communism. Some were interested in it or Anarchism or
other systems, as an alternative to a 'system' that had failed.
Clearly the defeat of the Axis Powers was irrelevant. The same “evil”
continued in other guises and manifested itself in various iniquities
– the testing of atomic bombs, the massive amount spent by European
nations on war machines & materials and biological weapons, the
routine backing of corrupt governments by so-called “democracies”.
Democracy had become a dirty word, as had “freedom” another
dubious bromide that had died in its name's repetition.
</span></p>
<p style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">But, that aside, around 1969, I moved
into a flat with Dick and Jim. We met at the PYM meetings and got
talking and decided at first (my suggestion), that as Mao-tse-Tung
advocated that workers should integrate with 'the people', we would
move into a house in Otahuhu. That was a working class area, we would
be cadres mixing with the people. His phrase was fish in the sea of
people. (Mao like many such, had a poetic way, some of his metaphors
were possibly borrowed from ancient Chinese sources). We set up
there. It was exciting. Here I was venturing out into the world as a
young man. It seems naive now. My life, leading up to there had been,
well, difficult to describe. But I had lived in good conditions with
good parents. In any case, now I was venturing out. I had been quite
introverted, so aided by anti-depressants, I changed, somewhat.</span></p>
<p style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"> <span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhd7wJBn2U2klIY-ntuG1SZN2rIt6nrpYW1q1JrWHguMZc5uM1ZM-MxRy-QJKrkojlhXBHMpPBVrtXpttg8GziyFyd_EzMCpKSO47lVdgBLyfLl4LUzLCqLHKXkdwpgsQAD0kcxqAJ3M52W/s2048/Personal+-+Mrs+Fowler+the+70s+Dick+Jim+Me+etc+078b.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1393" data-original-width="2048" height="435" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhd7wJBn2U2klIY-ntuG1SZN2rIt6nrpYW1q1JrWHguMZc5uM1ZM-MxRy-QJKrkojlhXBHMpPBVrtXpttg8GziyFyd_EzMCpKSO47lVdgBLyfLl4LUzLCqLHKXkdwpgsQAD0kcxqAJ3M52W/w640-h435/Personal+-+Mrs+Fowler+the+70s+Dick+Jim+Me+etc+078b.jpg" width="640" /></span></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">Here I (Richard Taylor) am many years ago. Dick took the shot.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">We found a stone working place and I liked the texture. Dick (Rewi)</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">understood photography among much else. I was photography the</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">rock shapes as art had always and still does (in fact almost everything does)</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">fascinate me. Dick asked why I didn't photograph people more. So we</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">took photographs of each other by the stone. Dick had helped me</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">get the camera.</span></div><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEheHCJtBQmcYYXwWTt2CYG0JUficXXRrtc0PifSpQeg2mRtQ-_qZE-wjNSH0pq3Vv8JabeiNXr4qspOXa0xmV5_PB3kFBMOofFg2KbajOyTfWTqeLfEBgLwvV9fgvTF8ez3wBTgtJ3hlwP7/s2048/Personal+-+Mrs+Fowler+the+70s+Dick+Jim+Me+etc+070b.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1405" data-original-width="2048" height="275" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEheHCJtBQmcYYXwWTt2CYG0JUficXXRrtc0PifSpQeg2mRtQ-_qZE-wjNSH0pq3Vv8JabeiNXr4qspOXa0xmV5_PB3kFBMOofFg2KbajOyTfWTqeLfEBgLwvV9fgvTF8ez3wBTgtJ3hlwP7/w400-h275/Personal+-+Mrs+Fowler+the+70s+Dick+Jim+Me+etc+070b.jpg" width="400" /></span></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">Earlier at our flat in Otahuhu. We came to like the mouse. Dick</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">pretends to shoot it with a plastic gun. He was not someone</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">who liked killing animals. Among other things (many) he knew about</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">guns and even railway gauges and so on.</span></div><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZI9DswxUYDbjouueGXfbMB54O4UE2v6CUCbWBhjyktT3hj0-TVpG5VWJOUOHYGXBD89p45V3SopYUputVCJMgnkpvwYsVopicO3biRUnNBB9REmkec2RIGkHMgcpvnfVthgUDk6Fkhi4_/s2048/Personal+-+Mrs+Fowler+the+70s+Dick+Jim+Me+etc+068b.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZI9DswxUYDbjouueGXfbMB54O4UE2v6CUCbWBhjyktT3hj0-TVpG5VWJOUOHYGXBD89p45V3SopYUputVCJMgnkpvwYsVopicO3biRUnNBB9REmkec2RIGkHMgcpvnfVthgUDk6Fkhi4_/w400-h300/Personal+-+Mrs+Fowler+the+70s+Dick+Jim+Me+etc+068b.jpg" width="400" /></span></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">Gary Teale was with us for a while at Otahuhu. He lived near me and I used to take him & sometimes his brother to the PYM meetings which were in St Kevin's arcade, upstairs, in a smallish room. I think it was the headquarters of the Communist Party. We always (strongly suspected) that undercover police or </span><span style="font-size: xx-large;">the SIS were probably either listening to things said and or had members there. One day there was a violent turmoil as someone identified as an undercover police agent (how could one be for sure?) was thrown out. Gary had been badly beaten up by the police at the Auckland Central Police Station.</span></div><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZHKUyy6GMEa7_Vb4Y1-bKCA6FmyIjt1qf4x0cAT2DHhXQ10RU1tR_Ikr_UIjES99EAp2n-Pbdnle-tpePLOBFCuZ-wzXI07zmojB8XpQGi4f32HsI-2_Q1fT0XB6xe-hwfW9UIiZqpt_P/s2048/Personal+-+Mrs+Fowler+the+70s+Dick+Jim+Me+etc+067b.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1490" data-original-width="2048" height="291" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZHKUyy6GMEa7_Vb4Y1-bKCA6FmyIjt1qf4x0cAT2DHhXQ10RU1tR_Ikr_UIjES99EAp2n-Pbdnle-tpePLOBFCuZ-wzXI07zmojB8XpQGi4f32HsI-2_Q1fT0XB6xe-hwfW9UIiZqpt_P/w400-h291/Personal+-+Mrs+Fowler+the+70s+Dick+Jim+Me+etc+067b.jpg" width="400" /></span></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">Why not? Feet are important!</span></div><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjbgjVyFUC-AE9PGy1PGLaKOk3GrwCM0UjJSez2CUvVhWUyFuFwg2R8V_9IVCQuoPsuKIqr9_Dg0peEN7qp08jb5YALRjR8MDEpEMAT1t-vFcgmO5WgBwLSXtRE2cOPTiiPoi-7ne9trEyF/s2048/Personal+-+Mrs+Fowler+the+70s+Dick+Jim+Me+etc+090b.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjbgjVyFUC-AE9PGy1PGLaKOk3GrwCM0UjJSez2CUvVhWUyFuFwg2R8V_9IVCQuoPsuKIqr9_Dg0peEN7qp08jb5YALRjR8MDEpEMAT1t-vFcgmO5WgBwLSXtRE2cOPTiiPoi-7ne9trEyF/w400-h300/Personal+-+Mrs+Fowler+the+70s+Dick+Jim+Me+etc+090b.jpg" width="400" /></span></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">Jim Dollimore, on one of our long hitch hiking walks to Wellington etc. After he later brought back the Dudley Moore and Peter Cook "Derek and Clive" skits including the famous battle of an ant with "Squatter" in Bahrein he became "the Ant". He is still going, in Gisborne now. He was at Otahuhu and later at the more chaotic and certainly more interesting "Big Pink" at Georgina Street in Ponsonby. Ponsonby was then a working class area. Many of the poor lived there.</span></div><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDq7w7zfIYKhUe2E0EcbViBwM_wka-K1DdxvrH4VpLQR29GVUYfXa_pPU5vdRo_CwOAexYzAINPVb3ITOwrHT36G47JQzlzRuW4bSPCMMnKVTL98Tgx7SCmAmbqLQnDsFoRQMWhVRXmoIX/s2048/Personal+-+Mrs+Fowler+the+70s+Dick+Jim+Me+etc+073b.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1405" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDq7w7zfIYKhUe2E0EcbViBwM_wka-K1DdxvrH4VpLQR29GVUYfXa_pPU5vdRo_CwOAexYzAINPVb3ITOwrHT36G47JQzlzRuW4bSPCMMnKVTL98Tgx7SCmAmbqLQnDsFoRQMWhVRXmoIX/w275-h400/Personal+-+Mrs+Fowler+the+70s+Dick+Jim+Me+etc+073b.jpg" width="275" /></span></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">Dick acting as my "model". None of us at that time</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">had any "expertise" in women. We liked them but</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">meanwhile in Ponsonby we were mostly young men.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">Gradually more young women arrived. This posture</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">is something of Dick. He was often pointing things </span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">out or in fact in some cases giving commands.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">But he had a sense of humour, as we all did.</span></div><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZe2HRBuhtLbmXjHiYsGhZLWHfBHEGKspZ5XuM5t7V6pTkbVmfkAjfOmRkvXWi-eosNiUwCZ85IaNwe1c7cPo01RNJiAq_k5etived3bYVleAmP0FxtBtxEg8LYo9HJrMH9rlaSUF0yaZg/s2048/Personal+-+Mrs+Fowler+the+70s+Dick+Jim+Me+etc+059b.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1367" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZe2HRBuhtLbmXjHiYsGhZLWHfBHEGKspZ5XuM5t7V6pTkbVmfkAjfOmRkvXWi-eosNiUwCZ85IaNwe1c7cPo01RNJiAq_k5etived3bYVleAmP0FxtBtxEg8LYo9HJrMH9rlaSUF0yaZg/w429-h640/Personal+-+Mrs+Fowler+the+70s+Dick+Jim+Me+etc+059b.jpg" width="429" /></span></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">A villa somewhere in Ponsonby or Jervois Road. Jim is showing</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">his "revolutionary defiance" at the evil Bourgoeis. </span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">[It has not been generally known that Jim "Ant" Dollimore, was in fact</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">the man organizer of all subversive activities against the </span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">'hated Bougoies police and other scum elements' as he</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">termed them. His ferocity mean that, despite belief that he was</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">a weak moderate he has and is still planning enormous 'disruptions'</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">to the Capitalist governments world wide. He is dangerous as, as</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">in 'The Secret Agent' by Conrad he always carries a devastating bomb.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">His absolute fearlessness of anything has led him to traverse the globe</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">where he organized many of the underground communo-terrorist and revolutionary </span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">movements. He is said, perhaps, jokingly, to have Hitlerian powers</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">of charisma of the sort we have lately only seen in such remarkable</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">politicians as Donald Trump.</span><span style="font-size: xx-large;">]</span></div><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYi2MuZduXlUZzJkYMyvFeGD0dFXqCpL6ec0PfBytJZQt_o51pCs7XRKlUt_lw1Sy0V4olgbkaRaHMy991H16XDcF7YJHcAvIUwCPjv3WsSYF2o0iIsvijR7cjEhU6feTHpx49q0c6vilI/s2048/Personal+-+Mrs+Fowler+the+70s+Dick+Jim+Me+etc+057bc.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1438" data-original-width="2048" height="450" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYi2MuZduXlUZzJkYMyvFeGD0dFXqCpL6ec0PfBytJZQt_o51pCs7XRKlUt_lw1Sy0V4olgbkaRaHMy991H16XDcF7YJHcAvIUwCPjv3WsSYF2o0iIsvijR7cjEhU6feTHpx49q0c6vilI/w640-h450/Personal+-+Mrs+Fowler+the+70s+Dick+Jim+Me+etc+057bc.jpg" width="640" /></span></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">I may have had a talent for photography but I took so many "on the run" so to speak that I needed training. This isn't a bad shot into the sun. I did learn some techniques. I had a quite wide angle 85mm, and the main lens was 55mm, but I always intended to get a 35mm lens. Some of the photographs have been partly burned. There was a fire in my mother's garage which my father had built. It was rebuilt. A lot of my pictures were damaged. Surprisingly the fire, which was quite ferocious and threatened my mother's house (this was some years later ~ 1991), didn't obliterate everything. It was upsetting for my mother. I came to live in the home I was brought up in in the 50s and 60s in 1990. I attended University.</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGifSiXXNdEt620veIHWD_GduRDb1cRfkoxdPiBRCut7HvopLlzP0PM5rIPOaDZsA16RvyWecqFeeTBJzR7vKhKXQSk3LBbQvYvGawy8BgwQmgvB8WUE2Mb9uF3dtoV_tpnzcPZM45zeDe/s2048/Personal+-+Mrs+Fowler+the+70s+Dick+Jim+Me+etc+054b.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1404" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGifSiXXNdEt620veIHWD_GduRDb1cRfkoxdPiBRCut7HvopLlzP0PM5rIPOaDZsA16RvyWecqFeeTBJzR7vKhKXQSk3LBbQvYvGawy8BgwQmgvB8WUE2Mb9uF3dtoV_tpnzcPZM45zeDe/w438-h640/Personal+-+Mrs+Fowler+the+70s+Dick+Jim+Me+etc+054b.jpg" width="438" /></span></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">All kinds of crazy and other people at the "Big Pink" in Ponsonby. I had the idea of taking a picture from the floor. I forget who was on the table.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></div><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2E5lxQ4-xeuAtCB4cuevbCnT0mpRPVNpIfmSbhQFrQyq2MT9gcV-hgBWjBR_92zlOA-TpjxJxz3qB-tfLBPL_8_N73SI1e6OS0zZ7UpX_bkgBBPIpnYdv6oyxQS_583DlM48_XBhCzKEg/s2048/Personal+-+Mrs+Fowler+the+70s+Dick+Jim+Me+etc+018b.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1487" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2E5lxQ4-xeuAtCB4cuevbCnT0mpRPVNpIfmSbhQFrQyq2MT9gcV-hgBWjBR_92zlOA-TpjxJxz3qB-tfLBPL_8_N73SI1e6OS0zZ7UpX_bkgBBPIpnYdv6oyxQS_583DlM48_XBhCzKEg/w464-h640/Personal+-+Mrs+Fowler+the+70s+Dick+Jim+Me+etc+018b.jpg" width="464" /></span></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">This bloke we called 'the droog' (thinking of the movie 'A Clockwork Orange' which was popular around those times): he was no fool. He climbed in a window on night and we now had another flat member. People were always turning up. Two Maori blokes, one with a large Afro who with Fred, who was almost always spaced out on drugs (I avoided any illegal drugs and I didn't drink very much if ever in those days), once we, Dick, myself and Jim and went to a "posh" restaurant. None of us -- except Dick -- had been to one. My parents, while not poor, brought up 4 children and mum stayed home. This is something I believe in. Women should stay at home looking after children. This is what my mother did. I think other women in Panmure worked but I feel that is sad, as the care and development of children is of the greatest importance. At least one parent should always be present where there were children. We did go out to the pictures, the speedway (Mauger etc), athletics, swimming. We had no television. My father had a good income as an architect, but the habit of eating in meant that, as a family, we didn't "eat out". And rarely did anyone visit for dinner. My father didn't drink. My mother had sherry later in life but they weren't people for parties or boozing. So at this restaurant Dick taught Jim and I how to 'sip' no guzzle as Jim "Ant" Dollimore was doing, I believe.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><span style="color: #2b00fe; font-size: x-large;">_________________________________________ ________________________________________</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">Some More images from slides I used. Rewi Kemp -- it must be remembered the connection to Mrs</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">Fowler and Barry and Anna (Rewi or Dick's sister) are also important and so is the recent PhD by</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">Barry Lee on the PYM. I perhaps need to concentrate more closely on that but the entire era requires </span><span style="font-size: xx-large;">a book. A lot was not seen as I did from the working class. I always worked in those days. I didn't drink and nor did I take drugs. I am opposed to illegal and illicit drugs and alcohol. Any more toward a "progressive" world needs the elimination these things. Nevertheless we had other ways of having fun.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"> The protests and a certain idealism that only the young can have was mine and to some extent Dick's and that of others. But, while Rewi kept his passion -- he was in full flight at his mother's funeral and later at her memorial -- he spoke passionately to me about an International Treaty. By this time it had become clear to me that while I can "protest" etc, now, in a deep sense, I believe in nothing. "What are your beliefs, why don't you take a lot of interest in world affairs these days." "It is as if there are several, perhaps an infinite number, of myselves. I seem as if fragmented. Hence people (whoever if anyone cares -- I don't -- but it is pleasing if someone is interested in my "work" of the Infinite Project) might be confused. Who or which Richard Taylor are we talking about? I care, but not in any fixed way.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">Perhaps I am a Nihilist, perhaps a Relativist -- who can disprove Relativism, define Free Will, or even Reality, or the nature of Nothingness (absolute) versus, say usable infinity (as in most calculus) versus an absolute Calculus that uses Actual Infinities. </span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">However this post is only one of many that makes up a kind of 'greater' or at least a larger thing. It tries to involve every one. There are only practical limitations to that. Meanwhile this gives some indications of the complex ambiguities associated with questions of human knowledge and associated metaphysics, as well as ethical-moral questions. But it also tries to answer some of the complex questions of Art. Also the problematic of hierarchies.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">@@@@@@-----@@@@@@@@@ ------@@@@@@@@@-----@@@@@@@@@@@ </span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><span style="color: #ff00fe;"><b>But at this part of the post I will put most of the last of those images from our days mostly in Ponsonby </b></span><b style="color: #ff00fe;">-- Georgina Street at the top of the hill -- and people there or at protests in town etc. It was Dick Fowler's suggestion that I use Ektachrome slides as he had found they were better that colour film.</b></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"> </span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">----------------- ------------------------------------------ --<span style="color: red;">-------------------------------------------------------------</span></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><span style="color: red;">============================== =========================================== </span> ====================================== ============ =======================</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">============= ================================ ============================</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4Z5-yFNyLx_ZcdogfGzaC2xw_LuXMZSfgtWCh53kqmZaK7xheAdXrLRE4AC79qHobQVKjLshL3UDU6IVOjfgM91cIrIYqqDb9zxPShwflanpv195VKkcZVCSSRFHAUTt_b1dQmFYjWeif/s614/Personal+-+slides+from+69+to+70s+Protest+Days+poss+for+IP+June+2021+049b.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><img border="0" data-original-height="614" data-original-width="448" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4Z5-yFNyLx_ZcdogfGzaC2xw_LuXMZSfgtWCh53kqmZaK7xheAdXrLRE4AC79qHobQVKjLshL3UDU6IVOjfgM91cIrIYqqDb9zxPShwflanpv195VKkcZVCSSRFHAUTt_b1dQmFYjWeif/s320/Personal+-+slides+from+69+to+70s+Protest+Days+poss+for+IP+June+2021+049b.jpg" width="233" /></span></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">Fred Fenton who like most of us lived basically rent free in Georgina Street, which was in those</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">days a working class area. Fred played his LPs -Hendrix and other - all day and went to parties and boozed and</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">smoked pot. Once I walked with him to student party few streets away where a man with a</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">blanket over him and his girlfriend was having sexual intercourse. Fred got increasingly out</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">of it and after a while I 'steered' him home, turning him at the appropriate corners. One of the characters.</span></div><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGL3c7ytG-mQ5_PMSqpCTiCtKWMdZd05Ex3rpFtDp2CmC8Am91ur8jxvLKBWXRI9Tc2dzdzUWsInsG2ltlZgxdn3MZLhXcvjo-wuO8CoBPm1_Wl0erKv_fGOJ4ejZWeotpfIjQKGIhlN9V/s1830/Personal+-+slides+from+69+to+70s+Protest+Days+poss+for+IP+June+2021+067b.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1251" data-original-width="1830" height="219" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGL3c7ytG-mQ5_PMSqpCTiCtKWMdZd05Ex3rpFtDp2CmC8Am91ur8jxvLKBWXRI9Tc2dzdzUWsInsG2ltlZgxdn3MZLhXcvjo-wuO8CoBPm1_Wl0erKv_fGOJ4ejZWeotpfIjQKGIhlN9V/s320/Personal+-+slides+from+69+to+70s+Protest+Days+poss+for+IP+June+2021+067b.jpg" width="320" /></span></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">This was when we hitc-hiked to Wellington. I think we somehow made our way to an Island and had a barbecue. I recall it but not who we connected with to get there.</span></div><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9FQ74HPxER-q5MsPNAO9Ra5G2zNtcF67_Rg7UCpH5iJLci5X8c1MSDlDPNva6B6zCAU1f4soSsWgq9n2o3KEgdbv4sAyheppz_TlxomWkZamFQG5W8Wov-zetTfjJ4ArkxnSTJRZ0AkeS/s2048/Personal+-+slides+from+69+to+70s+Protest+Days+poss+for+IP+June+2021+066b.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1397" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9FQ74HPxER-q5MsPNAO9Ra5G2zNtcF67_Rg7UCpH5iJLci5X8c1MSDlDPNva6B6zCAU1f4soSsWgq9n2o3KEgdbv4sAyheppz_TlxomWkZamFQG5W8Wov-zetTfjJ4ArkxnSTJRZ0AkeS/w273-h400/Personal+-+slides+from+69+to+70s+Protest+Days+poss+for+IP+June+2021+066b.jpg" width="273" /></span></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><span> </span><span>Nixon - or 'Tricky Dicky' as he became known. I</span>t was obvious that none of the US Presidents were any good. They were all paranoid about "communism". all had had or had designs not only to replace the French in Vietnam, Laos, Cambodia --- for drugs and other goodies as well as oil. Their main target was China. Previous to that their propaganda convinced many people that they had gone to "save" Korea. However that war was as terrible as Vietnam. The reactionary Southern forces, as in Vietnam, manufactured lies. Meanwhile the bombing and atrocities committed by Imperialist forces on Korea was comparable to that of similar devastations in Vietnam etc. Pyongyang was --- if the photograph before the US air attack can be seen, is seen after bombing -- completely as devastated as if an atomic bomb had hit the place. </span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><span><span><span><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></span></span></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></div><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOVexYxppO7qf-uuVih7zL62Pdg_2EEKGI44Ndq4kXqPKazwjkF0AYNg961GxQQZQoNu0J_Q9nTCOgew9zq9PYug2-YizWQiUutbrrrCykLZ42skwB6xItlFCSl_-UILvRME98fQphcmOc/s2048/Personal+-+slides+from+69+to+70s+Protest+Days+poss+for+IP+June+2021+064b.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1296" data-original-width="2048" height="406" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOVexYxppO7qf-uuVih7zL62Pdg_2EEKGI44Ndq4kXqPKazwjkF0AYNg961GxQQZQoNu0J_Q9nTCOgew9zq9PYug2-YizWQiUutbrrrCykLZ42skwB6xItlFCSl_-UILvRME98fQphcmOc/w640-h406/Personal+-+slides+from+69+to+70s+Protest+Days+poss+for+IP+June+2021+064b.jpg" width="640" /></span></a></div><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">Working class people of Ponsonby in the early 70s. </span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpHg6eFQxMPii3Ily4oPFBXOZQG5CeH-0x5ys1O8iDrAhv9PvYmi2407cxzAf_FkrgcoKj5omW_nckGg6ZTfQLONa1KRXtoo3S9NqkVXAv4gI82biDag-i12mfWvErDBvcwLclTaW6kQBV/s2048/Personal+-+slides+from+69+to+70s+Protest+Days+poss+for+IP+June+2021+061b.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1415" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpHg6eFQxMPii3Ily4oPFBXOZQG5CeH-0x5ys1O8iDrAhv9PvYmi2407cxzAf_FkrgcoKj5omW_nckGg6ZTfQLONa1KRXtoo3S9NqkVXAv4gI82biDag-i12mfWvErDBvcwLclTaW6kQBV/w442-h640/Personal+-+slides+from+69+to+70s+Protest+Days+poss+for+IP+June+2021+061b.jpg" width="442" /></span></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">Ponsonby, then a working-class area</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">with many Polynesian people. This is probably in 1969 and near Ponsonby viewed from College Hill</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">It is one of the night scenes. I think my photography would have gained from</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">serious training. It might seem surprising to some but I was, except for</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">a time my father helped me when I was 9 or so to do water colours and mix paints,</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">and to do perspective, with words such as perspective and his noting that as distance</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">increased in general things got bluer. The words opaque and translucent and other</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">things. All that and I did some art but as soon as he stopped setting things up for me</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">I just stopped. I felt I had no ideas. At high school I would just sit there. What could</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">I do. And the same went for writing it wasn't until many years of reading I gained</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">much confidence to write poetry and some stories. I had difficulty thinking of stories.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">But I feel with training and help many more -- not just myself -- can create art work.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">Some of these are good but in addition to other things I needed training in photography.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">But this one was a good shot. Night scenes are hard but here I managed a good one. I </span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">think that this was on College Hill and possibly the night I wrote a poem with one</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">of the large chalks I had borrowed from the Railway Workshops. I used to quickly</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">innovate poems and write them, one night Jim and others and I were walking back</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">to Geogina street and I wrote a poem straight down in chalk on the road. I would</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">write poems and give them to people, not caring what happened to them</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></div><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5oQ2GBrqWt8aqybKEthCEZQI6eu74tmSz0aSoG1qNLXEr5aJyFvdj5-sTLqinqKqijv8FCxLXBorOBZUdsHcREJ19YAGH8XQSN8D9nzvRn24yu25lBr9NXNGbnGJFU3ayGZfvXiYCzxwn/s1799/Personal+-+slides+from+69+to+70s+Protest+Days+poss+for+IP+June+2021+055b.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1799" data-original-width="1230" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5oQ2GBrqWt8aqybKEthCEZQI6eu74tmSz0aSoG1qNLXEr5aJyFvdj5-sTLqinqKqijv8FCxLXBorOBZUdsHcREJ19YAGH8XQSN8D9nzvRn24yu25lBr9NXNGbnGJFU3ayGZfvXiYCzxwn/w274-h400/Personal+-+slides+from+69+to+70s+Protest+Days+poss+for+IP+June+2021+055b.jpg" width="274" /></span></a></div><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">We had a cat at the house in Ponsonby. Rewi liked animals. One of the rare times </span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">I got angry <span style="text-align: center;">was when I felt that we needed to get cats out of flat as it seemed fleas </span></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: x-large; text-align: center;">targeted me. This is I think a successful shot.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9lmBKBujczf3fSszU0VAUaHAylIDhNQxR-X2c4SEjytZPfiTOuKmWOTzLB7dgxOBQHOfuCzinz4M_paG_lSCBO3p1mzpAsRoFUjuB0e1t2Hpmhq_r3zAfh-nItI96Vxi9gbYhfLrhJk6_/s2048/Personal+-+slides+from+69+to+70s+Protest+Days+poss+for+IP+June+2021+051b.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1492" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9lmBKBujczf3fSszU0VAUaHAylIDhNQxR-X2c4SEjytZPfiTOuKmWOTzLB7dgxOBQHOfuCzinz4M_paG_lSCBO3p1mzpAsRoFUjuB0e1t2Hpmhq_r3zAfh-nItI96Vxi9gbYhfLrhJk6_/w466-h640/Personal+-+slides+from+69+to+70s+Protest+Days+poss+for+IP+June+2021+051b.jpg" width="466" /></span></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">Fred Fenton</span></div><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiaKvT7_5asMPAaJrDgBU4TnBscY5KTUjTymQ0shU3X7PUwvrcL-aJ6IJzyGO7D-Aebs67saSd1DONwF8psHaFjOyZkFMI6K6JZ0uy6uD012Yvh75FkPdEdirVEMilTwy5JFZoSIBsJDfBt/s640/Personal+-+slides+from+69+to+70s+Protest+Days+poss+for+IP+June+2021+050.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><img border="0" data-original-height="480" data-original-width="640" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiaKvT7_5asMPAaJrDgBU4TnBscY5KTUjTymQ0shU3X7PUwvrcL-aJ6IJzyGO7D-Aebs67saSd1DONwF8psHaFjOyZkFMI6K6JZ0uy6uD012Yvh75FkPdEdirVEMilTwy5JFZoSIBsJDfBt/s320/Personal+-+slides+from+69+to+70s+Protest+Days+poss+for+IP+June+2021+050.JPG" width="320" /></span></a></div><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1fPd0164cPEkJSbZadRNvgANSh3OEPMPus_FGc3GzpdRr6tEywagQS3B26vCNUaK3MP8ZSMH30hiZttbNQtH7ep9IuFXh8jGjOwampVldOKKPalkwZKYcAkESI-HKaowR2HpGHz187syH/s2048/Personal+-+slides+from+69+to+70s+Protest+Days+poss+for+IP+June+2021+045b.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1365" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1fPd0164cPEkJSbZadRNvgANSh3OEPMPus_FGc3GzpdRr6tEywagQS3B26vCNUaK3MP8ZSMH30hiZttbNQtH7ep9IuFXh8jGjOwampVldOKKPalkwZKYcAkESI-HKaowR2HpGHz187syH/s320/Personal+-+slides+from+69+to+70s+Protest+Days+poss+for+IP+June+2021+045b.jpg" width="213" /></span></a></div><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiiRDs65FkIZNPMifTgkkmAcNw3mz3I4Rq0eLjId6vJslKSScEF1iEICIp7vaMbgDet3tIUxGopHV9m893PyEM2SW9ys4jN0y2K3-qfmhFxvP-3bsvqYZ_Yf7PQqIncw5TsFBkKwp2SOaDE/s1534/Personal+-+slides+from+69+to+70s+Protest+Days+poss+for+IP+June+2021+040b.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1534" data-original-width="1161" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiiRDs65FkIZNPMifTgkkmAcNw3mz3I4Rq0eLjId6vJslKSScEF1iEICIp7vaMbgDet3tIUxGopHV9m893PyEM2SW9ys4jN0y2K3-qfmhFxvP-3bsvqYZ_Yf7PQqIncw5TsFBkKwp2SOaDE/w303-h400/Personal+-+slides+from+69+to+70s+Protest+Days+poss+for+IP+June+2021+040b.jpg" width="303" /></span></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">This is 123 Ponsonby Road where in 1970 I lived. Something went wrong. Halation perhaps</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">or some other thing has dulled the picture.</span></div><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKHLh3sthtAKvJG2sjThh8Y1bsir7PZfykEJFFQnkNeK-Lgj2ghXkWZFhp2em2SEk5KFhHDsF9q-sUTfBXxSHHHjT5W3WWKeiPgz4e_Fsap4JAcElHnAsDnJMPf1vIcp5gdTzbAkRjQUZH/s1562/Personal+-+slides+from+69+to+70s+Protest+Days+poss+for+IP+June+2021+036b.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1562" data-original-width="1227" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKHLh3sthtAKvJG2sjThh8Y1bsir7PZfykEJFFQnkNeK-Lgj2ghXkWZFhp2em2SEk5KFhHDsF9q-sUTfBXxSHHHjT5W3WWKeiPgz4e_Fsap4JAcElHnAsDnJMPf1vIcp5gdTzbAkRjQUZH/w314-h400/Personal+-+slides+from+69+to+70s+Protest+Days+poss+for+IP+June+2021+036b.jpg" width="314" /></span></a></div><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">This chap might have been with another young man who had all kinds of physical</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">problems, including heart issues. We were a motley crew.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjoiYgQnu3AisHdcoEooNdBSluxA-25yitVkR-60jkYejhHIhAhc7LMqdcO0U4Ue-YXTi7V85XgEFhZlcRLGlsQShlv7an-MbxzVjHUne-KXWLW53UmUdgcil_FCtfoD_6lksLS6xLAdJMA/s1825/Personal+-+slides+from+69+to+70s+Protest+Days+poss+for+IP+June+2021+035b.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1369" data-original-width="1825" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjoiYgQnu3AisHdcoEooNdBSluxA-25yitVkR-60jkYejhHIhAhc7LMqdcO0U4Ue-YXTi7V85XgEFhZlcRLGlsQShlv7an-MbxzVjHUne-KXWLW53UmUdgcil_FCtfoD_6lksLS6xLAdJMA/s320/Personal+-+slides+from+69+to+70s+Protest+Days+poss+for+IP+June+2021+035b.jpg" width="320" /></span></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhu8O3zinC05-4SZTKlMQ0Z_KATFkoTUhBTZYMA4ESO5BTVO6XP3a7QJNKQ6uZwk4oGD5Rgp9nyk36BIbEIVr7cB4hR8yIvD3gtE6eDbT6nOwFUhuBCaHgAcIPBa7UTKUs3GtsWu7FAJ7sD-vb1EIJ6BaKX-Id-tD_0ph62Xyspa0S70Me6Lcic7ghe4g=s1921" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1921" data-original-width="1449" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhu8O3zinC05-4SZTKlMQ0Z_KATFkoTUhBTZYMA4ESO5BTVO6XP3a7QJNKQ6uZwk4oGD5Rgp9nyk36BIbEIVr7cB4hR8yIvD3gtE6eDbT6nOwFUhuBCaHgAcIPBa7UTKUs3GtsWu7FAJ7sD-vb1EIJ6BaKX-Id-tD_0ph62Xyspa0S70Me6Lcic7ghe4g=w482-h640" width="482" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Mary Manoah and Jim Dollimore.</div><br /><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><br /></div><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgktbibB9Z1WlwO-5cVC8XX34GQ2LKup04Zep0Xj27FHLPqKyBvfBdfObzMzpUpgNctR7wtHHNiIlqMY5uhBYglP_oWIo6RSw1H8F_8Ppg_x5NfXpwF4DO9Gcee-_j6L9084FVzEo30unNf/s1127/Personal+-+slides+from+69+to+70s+Protest+Days+poss+for+IP+June+2021+034b.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><img border="0" data-original-height="845" data-original-width="1127" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgktbibB9Z1WlwO-5cVC8XX34GQ2LKup04Zep0Xj27FHLPqKyBvfBdfObzMzpUpgNctR7wtHHNiIlqMY5uhBYglP_oWIo6RSw1H8F_8Ppg_x5NfXpwF4DO9Gcee-_j6L9084FVzEo30unNf/w640-h480/Personal+-+slides+from+69+to+70s+Protest+Days+poss+for+IP+June+2021+034b.jpg" width="640" /></span></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">The man in the middle, whose name evades me, I recall well. As I write I think he was called Malcom. He was at various meetings and protests. Then he stayed with Mary and myself and others at Frank Lane's Poster shop. We also organised local protests from there. We met such as Betty Wark, I studied Maori and Samoan at the WEA. We were idealistic. Frank's idea via Mao was to be with the people and thus influence them, as well as to continue protests on larger themes. The cost of living, rent rates, poverty, racism, and the issue of Mrs Martinac we protested. We spent time with local people and organised a defence to an elderly Yugoslav woman, Mrs Martinac -- whose house was the last standing. We had meetings and this attracted quite a large support. Eventually the well known lawyer, Peter Williams did a deal with the ACC and got her a better house than she would have.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">As well we even suspected him (the SIS were watching members of the PYM and others such as the Bower brothers; and as Barry Lee tells me they had some notes about myself and others at 123 Ponsonby Road. Although it seems names are missing but Barry, doing his thesis, found a lot of information that police informers and others had had been redacted. Perhaps this is illegal. In the meantime Malcolm seemed o.k. but strangely detached and I thought somewhat a lonely individual. Perhaps he was a lonely SIS agent. I felt for him. One day I had to confront him as he had tinia, which then (despite my biology studies) was due to bad hygience. It isn't, it kind of is, it can happen if one doesn't dry oneself and so on. There are good anti-fungals that deal with it. But he took my telling him of his "tinia" quietly. He was quiet. Perhaps he was just a quiet, gentle soul. An agent? Well there was not much information really. Most protests were peaceful. Later things got violent but it was if normal</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">channels failed. Our primary metho was not violent. But there were many groups. </span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"> One group of three young men were the Bower brothers. before Mary, my girlfriend and wife to be, met myself -- she knew many at Resistance which was located near the bottom of Airedale Street more or less opposite the Town Hall. Resistance was a loose organisation of those opposed to war. (But other issues such as some cited above and women's issues, and other socio-political issues were important.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"> One afternoon I sat at Resistance idly discussing with one of the Bowers (they had exploded bombs at army recruiting places, but took the chance that no one should be hurt, this activity excited Mary who perhaps would be less keen now -- certainly our 'line' was not that method. We weren't quite at that extreme. We needed a wider base of people. Nevertheless, we could always see the huge police station and we -- well most of us hated the police. So our plan -- mine -- was to build a tunnel under that building, plant sufficient explosives and bring it down. The idea excited me. It still does. I think he and others later turned their attention to burrowing under the Auckland (Supreme?) Court not too far from the University. As far as I recall the Bowers go 5 years jail. I limited my radical anger to things such as making a point of pissing on the statue of Queen Victoria.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></div><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXAvrp7zik1J4bHHNSfEMkE_KvSyOs8YmhDUoNVRmJyKGTqWUtJuBHHAXubg0cESi1FjRabfWVZuJcqWzgnKHKVYBIr8XmQ4ElOHjJRGeYNfF4oUQ0ar_g9bNloACdv1vC-YzwreqyPsLR/s2048/Personal+-+slides+from+69+to+70s+Protest+Days+poss+for+IP+June+2021+033b.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1410" data-original-width="2048" height="440" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXAvrp7zik1J4bHHNSfEMkE_KvSyOs8YmhDUoNVRmJyKGTqWUtJuBHHAXubg0cESi1FjRabfWVZuJcqWzgnKHKVYBIr8XmQ4ElOHjJRGeYNfF4oUQ0ar_g9bNloACdv1vC-YzwreqyPsLR/w640-h440/Personal+-+slides+from+69+to+70s+Protest+Days+poss+for+IP+June+2021+033b.jpg" width="640" /></span></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"> The houses in central Ponsonby were beautiful. After I got married I could have bought a house for</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">$10, 000, but my father, an architect pointed out it would need reblocking. I had no such cash resources</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">so later when I trained to be a Lineman for the New Zealand Post Office, I borrowed money to buy a house in Clover Park. This was about 1975/76. </span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></div><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxTpozuucvQebxb1mharfocce2MERKX4kKXjS8DM5weqjrxfleTn0e21QNKcuU_veuzQ1CbF0vy-oXLXQoZd-igJEK0KKcEyjzj7CdCL92MceWdL9H_4jVJpb3x2XMQKVqVNjTBemhDXCw/s1770/Personal+-+slides+from+69+to+70s+Protest+Days+poss+for+IP+June+2021+030b.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1211" data-original-width="1770" height="438" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxTpozuucvQebxb1mharfocce2MERKX4kKXjS8DM5weqjrxfleTn0e21QNKcuU_veuzQ1CbF0vy-oXLXQoZd-igJEK0KKcEyjzj7CdCL92MceWdL9H_4jVJpb3x2XMQKVqVNjTBemhDXCw/w640-h438/Personal+-+slides+from+69+to+70s+Protest+Days+poss+for+IP+June+2021+030b.jpg" width="640" /></span></a></div><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">Local Ponsonby kids.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEifJjlHbKin2_nMeozWL4SFjemFc_6WHvbkfa7sdlofnGGkcNERKUK1PFtkJkBgyRqBZHwYNjEMq8KnVVLTNngxxlpriC84gTv_jdEqfRITsGgW0Tf6BKZN1ziFaWosepmZuva3h1V_PLpB_i8cGUfmdCiHmGwp_93AONgih9ueFIEBkHgcHqMPwVAE8w=s2048" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1403" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEifJjlHbKin2_nMeozWL4SFjemFc_6WHvbkfa7sdlofnGGkcNERKUK1PFtkJkBgyRqBZHwYNjEMq8KnVVLTNngxxlpriC84gTv_jdEqfRITsGgW0Tf6BKZN1ziFaWosepmZuva3h1V_PLpB_i8cGUfmdCiHmGwp_93AONgih9ueFIEBkHgcHqMPwVAE8w=w274-h400" width="274" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjaznZgCnjYMV8aA0GmOsaKGlYo-dGzatfUCWe20eBefw-2x_PFWCSFEaFSipNa8enpZ9t3-jiCk0KRQ6vqz_uEmuHE8-fbjmw4CD6bG93_szFMv2efS5nvuNqh1jTf_B7rLBFlk-3QbNOrjRdqUeYWP13qHqem1OIm52gxwZVNM-ECrN2rFeKeRHmAtg=s2048" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1463" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjaznZgCnjYMV8aA0GmOsaKGlYo-dGzatfUCWe20eBefw-2x_PFWCSFEaFSipNa8enpZ9t3-jiCk0KRQ6vqz_uEmuHE8-fbjmw4CD6bG93_szFMv2efS5nvuNqh1jTf_B7rLBFlk-3QbNOrjRdqUeYWP13qHqem1OIm52gxwZVNM-ECrN2rFeKeRHmAtg=w286-h400" width="286" /></a></div><br /><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjY15ahHTkqtN9_J1-sVzIfjNGdNgoKkJNAGtwEFvThRIc2sH9gOOJMYFTjpqptaNk8zk6pN7ITaM5WxhMNYGZ4DJQp-dw6qJKTJGKEYMNfMrCBomoTNgNN0yY53hH2vWLjgNJIp0Fa6T3qTALYz17TBpEVSRmT0TCkKoQmNRPMGk4u5VJ-kVeYQMVumQ=s640" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="480" data-original-width="640" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjY15ahHTkqtN9_J1-sVzIfjNGdNgoKkJNAGtwEFvThRIc2sH9gOOJMYFTjpqptaNk8zk6pN7ITaM5WxhMNYGZ4DJQp-dw6qJKTJGKEYMNfMrCBomoTNgNN0yY53hH2vWLjgNJIp0Fa6T3qTALYz17TBpEVSRmT0TCkKoQmNRPMGk4u5VJ-kVeYQMVumQ=s320" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">A new flat mate? No one cared: we took everyone in as long as there was room - which there probably always was.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEixqteFQxEJbMcJvBMIbjUwHG11yFb67HBdoFs39KRmvsIudr3Yfug9RPyOB4USfd4ZhDvVsLWXvvuoXfmXmiUy1wS7LVlGDLYiKYA_x4RcKeY5CARjvZecshaAkhHnCmq3FMso-4GI0DLqL9qXUMi5Otd2pUgRw2G5HD4KwMGqsypEo7BUWuCMJJoLXw=s1580" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1580" data-original-width="1185" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEixqteFQxEJbMcJvBMIbjUwHG11yFb67HBdoFs39KRmvsIudr3Yfug9RPyOB4USfd4ZhDvVsLWXvvuoXfmXmiUy1wS7LVlGDLYiKYA_x4RcKeY5CARjvZecshaAkhHnCmq3FMso-4GI0DLqL9qXUMi5Otd2pUgRw2G5HD4KwMGqsypEo7BUWuCMJJoLXw=s320" width="240" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgKMABg1BlucFsgYQD-wO3rIM2WuRM8Eu7VDE9DQmQ0tvdM2HTeoisNr7thWxkXMF8UYhvKf1vis5aWBq6xYF0LGYaYRo_yH3AlpKFI96gzAMGHdZ0qYLFi4GZXeon3zjoFSH2Xg_iPl4Td5HGmEeQLl9hmtIqqj2zy5lofMo5--pRAFDf48GEhEvnqfA=s640" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="640" data-original-width="480" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgKMABg1BlucFsgYQD-wO3rIM2WuRM8Eu7VDE9DQmQ0tvdM2HTeoisNr7thWxkXMF8UYhvKf1vis5aWBq6xYF0LGYaYRo_yH3AlpKFI96gzAMGHdZ0qYLFi4GZXeon3zjoFSH2Xg_iPl4Td5HGmEeQLl9hmtIqqj2zy5lofMo5--pRAFDf48GEhEvnqfA=w480-h640" width="480" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Robin Blackburn</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Blackburn is protected by a "minder" who was Bill Lynn or someone, Blackburn as far as I know is still writing on political and historical issues. Unless my memory is wrong on this. I may have the wrong name and or the wrong Blackburn. He gave a speech that was somewhat more 'theoretical than the main PYM or say Shadbolt would have given. It was good to see someone, and academic commit to speaking at Albert Park rather that only inside academia.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgQKG-jKhAJFkn46cyJYNOTNUuPGLMPmFsYIikVh7AsGJmwtEmSAbSTjTeNDyBkJyjgy1omj_zk3-Yw0ESklMn4VW2m8LPn2v9YHTESTwVTS7-NcemPWxv7W4wc_7a1IgJjpZidcAme8dkUrCWydC0A7V89x42m2BC32fftzad3XTRV72fqRISKakUoxA=s640" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="480" data-original-width="640" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgQKG-jKhAJFkn46cyJYNOTNUuPGLMPmFsYIikVh7AsGJmwtEmSAbSTjTeNDyBkJyjgy1omj_zk3-Yw0ESklMn4VW2m8LPn2v9YHTESTwVTS7-NcemPWxv7W4wc_7a1IgJjpZidcAme8dkUrCWydC0A7V89x42m2BC32fftzad3XTRV72fqRISKakUoxA=s320" width="320" /></a></div><br /><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; 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text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></div><br /></span><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjrHifr9v8Scu6BUtm1jHQkrG06U6mtCdHIX__TZqb4dIVEJ9Nzhfw72m9tXfTeCHKd2BJUzluuVVF2S6Zzn9TOUxrmJ6Uwoy55_qe8PRT_oyX8h2dhrRHv3rw_0AUR5nYk58d5uLPVxJbd/s1559/Personal+-+slides+from+69+to+70s+Protest+Days+poss+for+IP+June+2021+026bc.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1078" data-original-width="1559" height="221" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjrHifr9v8Scu6BUtm1jHQkrG06U6mtCdHIX__TZqb4dIVEJ9Nzhfw72m9tXfTeCHKd2BJUzluuVVF2S6Zzn9TOUxrmJ6Uwoy55_qe8PRT_oyX8h2dhrRHv3rw_0AUR5nYk58d5uLPVxJbd/s320/Personal+-+slides+from+69+to+70s+Protest+Days+poss+for+IP+June+2021+026bc.jpg" width="320" /></span></a></div><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJ_cm9rg_jpEJAFHImk4-TOD91Pbda-T21gL7kaIhBOZTXJ3gjNgwG7K7hdrkFdVZCQJzJKBoC5phXwxfpfzO20_ae9HOlq3Bzb7rKhMuXy-SgWZ097FdqWLgF3MS841KhKIVHYjV169y3/s1641/Personal+-+slides+from+69+to+70s+Protest+Days+poss+for+IP+June+2021+026b.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1158" data-original-width="1641" height="283" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJ_cm9rg_jpEJAFHImk4-TOD91Pbda-T21gL7kaIhBOZTXJ3gjNgwG7K7hdrkFdVZCQJzJKBoC5phXwxfpfzO20_ae9HOlq3Bzb7rKhMuXy-SgWZ097FdqWLgF3MS841KhKIVHYjV169y3/w400-h283/Personal+-+slides+from+69+to+70s+Protest+Days+poss+for+IP+June+2021+026b.jpg" width="400" /></span></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">Young students marching against the War.</span></div><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span><div class="separator" style="clear: both; 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text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirOoU7K7joq5axzLG65p-Rmcp4a-4ZwyXtBtIr2CHbehClLfWhLe8xWoUB7L2EvC4pDUpkfH4c-hlIDp0HoOQ5fzr_-Tsk1nwPVHKhe6x1kvUNlhOV0_h4szblRaXdcZc0_z9xmIVFvvBc/s1521/Personal+-+slides+from+69+to+70s+Protest+Days+poss+for+IP+June+2021+017b.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1035" data-original-width="1521" height="218" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirOoU7K7joq5axzLG65p-Rmcp4a-4ZwyXtBtIr2CHbehClLfWhLe8xWoUB7L2EvC4pDUpkfH4c-hlIDp0HoOQ5fzr_-Tsk1nwPVHKhe6x1kvUNlhOV0_h4szblRaXdcZc0_z9xmIVFvvBc/s320/Personal+-+slides+from+69+to+70s+Protest+Days+poss+for+IP+June+2021+017b.jpg" width="320" /></span></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; 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text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">The scene where we lived on Georgina Street. Local Pacific people mixed even then with a number of ethnicities. Dick on a bus, as he told me, overheard some Chinese talking. He commented as he had learnt Chinese a University. (I don't know whether passed any papers but I feel he should have persisted. Nevertheless I walked away from Biological Science and Chemistry and also failed to 'get anywhere with English Literature and Economics. Ponsonby was a working class place. Because housing there was cheap until about the mid 80s, Polynesian people, working class white people, and students and others, lived there. Later under Roger Douglas and Prebble who both with Lange's blessing ripped NZ back to the dark ages --- many corrupt whites and corrupt Real Estate speculators, working with the eternally corrupt Auckland City Council, destroyed much of that cultural and social phenomena. </span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJdfYnRgnzbHX78vkSYohsN0UmFe-t7-mPTCobnA9BJpzpbUjGBN5L-j-QW4GIYBl9Gyh5YKQAHIuBpgT7En03rZ4WvBug78jMmHRJFAQjJm28Hk9uJ6HjlJrKGq8QZYDY3FcYAt5A-P4f/s2048/Personal+-+slides+from+69+to+70s+Protest+Days+poss+for+IP+June+2021+090b.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1375" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJdfYnRgnzbHX78vkSYohsN0UmFe-t7-mPTCobnA9BJpzpbUjGBN5L-j-QW4GIYBl9Gyh5YKQAHIuBpgT7En03rZ4WvBug78jMmHRJFAQjJm28Hk9uJ6HjlJrKGq8QZYDY3FcYAt5A-P4f/w430-h640/Personal+-+slides+from+69+to+70s+Protest+Days+poss+for+IP+June+2021+090b.jpg" width="430" /></span></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">'The Ant' pondering his next move. Dollimore's mind was so extraordinary, and his ideas so daring and relentless (it is said that many 'disappearances' of reactionaries and 'backsliders' came from his orders) .... in their intent and indeed their actuation; while he worked always subtlety behind the scenes as it is commonly referred to that few knew that he, not Shadbolt or Barry and Bill Lee or others, but he, mastered minded most of the protest actions. In fact, with subtle manouevres he egged the Black Panthers into being...But the details of his complex involvement must be left to an enormous biography.</span></div><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3-x9MI8CJc3mZU6Ak7vWzQ51nb8dz4ik5gND_MKnZqrlysEwvVPlHz-jnyOVXqMCuUgXfhboE-HhcsgEpKgWbsv_YRjRRaMg8N7P_EOPeGPamt8QsekMmV37kHtpK2KmDqEOD7qpRf70x/s2048/Personal+-+slides+from+69+to+70s+Protest+Days+poss+for+IP+June+2021+092b.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1449" data-original-width="2048" height="452" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3-x9MI8CJc3mZU6Ak7vWzQ51nb8dz4ik5gND_MKnZqrlysEwvVPlHz-jnyOVXqMCuUgXfhboE-HhcsgEpKgWbsv_YRjRRaMg8N7P_EOPeGPamt8QsekMmV37kHtpK2KmDqEOD7qpRf70x/w640-h452/Personal+-+slides+from+69+to+70s+Protest+Days+poss+for+IP+June+2021+092b.jpg" width="640" /></span></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; 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text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">The mysterious man -- again.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></div><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjIXJpW9Oe5GmVUlQQxUm-nQPL0RgSTJ9F1NznWBwHc1n1o1YO3h2efnNcu82vBVO_LUfMS0YwOZ_DM42DrTQrLand90AbI__J-l9IQ1adiBxZ_Sf6Lp_HqtiWS4FXbrodwnReA-F4-cT_r/s640/Personal+-+slides+from+69+to+70s+Protest+Days+poss+for+IP+June+2021+094.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><img border="0" data-original-height="480" data-original-width="640" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjIXJpW9Oe5GmVUlQQxUm-nQPL0RgSTJ9F1NznWBwHc1n1o1YO3h2efnNcu82vBVO_LUfMS0YwOZ_DM42DrTQrLand90AbI__J-l9IQ1adiBxZ_Sf6Lp_HqtiWS4FXbrodwnReA-F4-cT_r/s320/Personal+-+slides+from+69+to+70s+Protest+Days+poss+for+IP+June+2021+094.JPG" width="320" /></span></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; 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text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">The power emanates from this man.</span></div><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiCPDnF1aL4JLigPipj1iNciRTmHBMfC4EjzCIihD3a_3HiNqCch8PEWNrkLGLSh-CS-vlNe-yyUg3hyphenhyphenmzAa9nQ2vbpzI6VHuyCd8dnzUUWdvhrQUTd273BS5uob_lo0qz8-aXkIkIWqR8Y/s640/Personal+-+slides+from+69+to+70s+Protest+Days+poss+for+IP+June+2021+118.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><img border="0" data-original-height="640" data-original-width="480" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiCPDnF1aL4JLigPipj1iNciRTmHBMfC4EjzCIihD3a_3HiNqCch8PEWNrkLGLSh-CS-vlNe-yyUg3hyphenhyphenmzAa9nQ2vbpzI6VHuyCd8dnzUUWdvhrQUTd273BS5uob_lo0qz8-aXkIkIWqR8Y/s320/Personal+-+slides+from+69+to+70s+Protest+Days+poss+for+IP+June+2021+118.JPG" width="240" /></span></a></div><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span><div class="separator" style="clear: both; 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text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjot60gDwMCiXa_qoCRlt4P-MZ7bZzFUgChzOls36aC-hNhAr3pn6GiW1AMcreahiwCy-yIgKzacl4Dc3GrwbjdEZlbYE9Lb1SoZC6i5-pJyWE8k4CzVDSFau1CEjA4ud8OEHadpW9VwZHm/s640/Personal+-+slides+from+69+to+70s+Protest+Days+poss+for+IP+June+2021+128.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><img border="0" data-original-height="480" data-original-width="640" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjot60gDwMCiXa_qoCRlt4P-MZ7bZzFUgChzOls36aC-hNhAr3pn6GiW1AMcreahiwCy-yIgKzacl4Dc3GrwbjdEZlbYE9Lb1SoZC6i5-pJyWE8k4CzVDSFau1CEjA4ud8OEHadpW9VwZHm/s320/Personal+-+slides+from+69+to+70s+Protest+Days+poss+for+IP+June+2021+128.JPG" width="320" /></span></a></div><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></div></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -- - -- - - - -- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - </span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><b><br /></b></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><span><b>Fred Fenton, the Maori fellow, had his Jimi Hendrix music going all day, and there was other 60s music, such as Janis Joplin and perhaps The Doors, as well as long plays of such as Bob Dylan.</b></span> I had considered only classical music to be of interest. I did acknowledge that there was something in Joplin and Hendrix, as well as liking Heavy Rock as I associated the density of the music with Beethoven's 9th. But as a teenager I had decided that Brahms was the greatest composer. But I knew about certain contemporary composers and others. My father used to sing me songs as a child, he had a beautiful voice. Dick and Jim, and myself, driving around, probably in my A40 Devon, sang very well. Dick could sing. He at least knew Mahler. He also knew some poems such as some of those by Gerald Manley Hopkins. I had read a lot from say 10 to 20, and had my Scientific Book Club Books, some political books (did read some great books of the Chinese Revolution, but I also had stories, and some poetry books, but my reading was restricted somewhat. Despite having recovered from severe nervous break down, and requiring anti-depressants and sedatives, I some times felt an uneasiness. I felt I had to devote myself to some great work for humanity, for the Revolution, and this didn't require a "good job". I needed to be an" ordinary worker" and be a "fish in water"....to sacrifice myself if need be for positive change. Some of this intense idealism and hope etc and belief in "progress" has stayed with me, but, that charged, almost religious fervour, has gone. The music I heard at our flat in Ponsonby I mostly stopped listening to. I did write poems, I gave them to people. I wrote them quickly and they said they were good. But I lost interest in whether they were good or not. I did read, also, Edmund Wilson's great work 'To the Finland Station' about many things including the Russian Revolution. I kept my interest in science and art and later revived my poetic & other interests to do this Blog.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">========================================================================</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjpmPxBUAKViVnjyAtRqOyycyJBGtur7XSg4BKmz2R0FUnUCKHpnzCBFhejhgXMUM0e9s9LnBbVhw6nU2xp9n3Gt7yH8384gFfAHxnAtOTZ6_kh_yLJJImrWhNAYVS0yDRkcPO0MTuXhL9F/s2048/Personal+-+Mrs+Fowler+the+70s+Dick+Jim+Me+etc+017b.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1409" data-original-width="2048" height="440" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjpmPxBUAKViVnjyAtRqOyycyJBGtur7XSg4BKmz2R0FUnUCKHpnzCBFhejhgXMUM0e9s9LnBbVhw6nU2xp9n3Gt7yH8384gFfAHxnAtOTZ6_kh_yLJJImrWhNAYVS0yDRkcPO0MTuXhL9F/w640-h440/Personal+-+Mrs+Fowler+the+70s+Dick+Jim+Me+etc+017b.jpg" width="640" /></span></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">Tim Shadbolt at Albert Park. Albert Park had been "liberated". Meetings I was told by Jim took place at Myers Park in Queen Street, closer to K' Road. They had all rushed up to Albert Park and started the</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">"Jumping Sundays". All kinds congregated there, speeches were made, Tim Shadbolt was a great orator. He would start talking and soon he had an audience of hundreds. He warned people to "never trust anyone over 30", (time has caught him out on that one. </span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwcsxfJMeqbFjlZXbFlJ_j3Itzc6D_fnqSAANynvO3dvwa83YT0YGh4ixo4USA24duWjkTxMgpQEatx6Y_IoGpoKR0QMFqDYYunMsonVGNSTMPuScf4u3jobGvz6LaS9OvVeKAt8UoG00H/s2048/Personal+-+Mrs+Fowler+the+70s+Dick+Jim+Me+etc+076b.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1372" data-original-width="2048" height="429" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwcsxfJMeqbFjlZXbFlJ_j3Itzc6D_fnqSAANynvO3dvwa83YT0YGh4ixo4USA24duWjkTxMgpQEatx6Y_IoGpoKR0QMFqDYYunMsonVGNSTMPuScf4u3jobGvz6LaS9OvVeKAt8UoG00H/w640-h429/Personal+-+Mrs+Fowler+the+70s+Dick+Jim+Me+etc+076b.jpg" width="640" /></span></a></div><span style="font-size: x-large;"><span> </span><span> </span><span> Dick in a dramatic pose. As I said, we found these rocks at a masonry works in Freeman's Bay somewhere. </span><br /></span><p></p>
<p style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">At this time I had joined and was still
working at the Railway Workshops. I didn't drink virtually at all or
take illicit drugs but we sometimes opened a bottle of wine and did
some crazy (but mostly harmless) things. (This was later in
Ponsonby). While at Otahuhu we were walking (in West Auckland for
some reason) when we decided, I think we were sober but in a crazy
mood, that our revolutionary act would be to steal some gnomes! We
saw some on a verandah and grabbed them, laughing like we were crazy.
We set them up in Otahuhu on our 'stoop'. I continued to work and
partake in protests etc. One day we came home to find our gnomes had
been stolen! Had someone worked out where their poor gnomes had gone?
A tip off? Or was gnome stealing all the thing. It didn't occur to us
that stealing gnomes was possibly a crime, it seemed too crazy for
that, and we found this immensely funny.
</span></p>
<p style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"> We also had a 'pet mouse'.
</span></p>
<p style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
</p>
<p style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"> At that time Dick was usually doing
nothing and Jim was training as a gardener. Dick was a polymath. He
was tallish, slim, fair skinned and with whitish-blond hair: from a
kind of upper class English family. His mother (Cecil Fowler) and
father (a scientist -- I could never find much out about him from
Dick) had been in political protests or actions for some years. Why
he separated I don't know. Mrs Fowler died in 2014. She was born in
1921, so she was 93. I met her when Dick took me to his place in
Frost Road, Mt Roskill. She was a teacher, a member of the China
Society and a Communist. I think she was one of the founding members
of the Labour Party. She was highly well read and very nice. But she
had a kind of 'toughness'. More of this. Dick had been to University
and learnt Chinese, Anthropology and many other things. His range of
interests was vast, almost too much. Dick was a natural leader, but a
procrastinator. He had helped to start the PYM.
</span></p><p style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></p><p style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">Some more images of protest events and events in those days: </span></p><p style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></p><p style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1386" data-original-width="2048" height="434" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGd-mjBzVdB03_S1G36jV0mMJBE7Av_Kgur3eZ7XSuy7sFgSMcSuO4v2fZ8ttBWzzFIR_2Mo5ybMZhZ70YCMU8aRifzN5QPn-m0NpqZR4wffJryQZ_QnqnPim5YIuRywFyG22ZsFEtVYG2/w640-h434/Personal+-+Mrs+Fowler+the+70s+Dick+Jim+Me+etc+010c.jpg" width="640" /><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">Bill Lee on the right. We were clearing a property I think owned by one of the Communist Party</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">leaders, possibly Vic Wilox.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></div><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0ezZKE9_gJe_wlheGFHDiEUYvCkc4BMZ3JvCS9qq03qeQE9P4yJwoy6uohWLIEUBiA5bbyWKPh9WSj4-IM9mIGyu8TWyNGS3WZRC8_l4ESt1yC3ZRtbcETc_Na9PFsIEV4skGIGphBH6E/s2048/Personal+-+Mrs+Fowler+the+70s+Dick+Jim+Me+etc+009b%2529.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1407" data-original-width="2048" height="275" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0ezZKE9_gJe_wlheGFHDiEUYvCkc4BMZ3JvCS9qq03qeQE9P4yJwoy6uohWLIEUBiA5bbyWKPh9WSj4-IM9mIGyu8TWyNGS3WZRC8_l4ESt1yC3ZRtbcETc_Na9PFsIEV4skGIGphBH6E/w400-h275/Personal+-+Mrs+Fowler+the+70s+Dick+Jim+Me+etc+009b%2529.jpg" width="400" /></span></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">PYM people. The PYM was a rather loose group of idealistic young people, some of whom were "executive" members most were interested but mainly protests were aimed against the Vietnam war, working class issues such as strikes, various Imperialist devastations etc. as well as race-related issues in NZ and also Apartheid in South Africa. Whatever our politics it was good to be young. Jenny is on the RHS. As of course I am not tall, my attraction to her and taking her home on my Lambretta led to nothing. But it was all part of the adventure of those strange but significant days of my life.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj20Uq8Q306JqXL0fl_rzDC7ojTbQpOu5U6D9D48f2SQSo5Ykzfu9tUvRABBW6XOKivu33Z7bZufOeCx8Vhp9JY51aDK3gYVkmC2ibQpysbwHv5gO6a5kyP1OlzILjvquuhPEQ7PfOB8pRG/s2048/Personal+-+Mrs+Fowler+the+70s+Dick+Jim+Me+etc+008b.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1314" data-original-width="2048" height="205" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj20Uq8Q306JqXL0fl_rzDC7ojTbQpOu5U6D9D48f2SQSo5Ykzfu9tUvRABBW6XOKivu33Z7bZufOeCx8Vhp9JY51aDK3gYVkmC2ibQpysbwHv5gO6a5kyP1OlzILjvquuhPEQ7PfOB8pRG/s320/Personal+-+Mrs+Fowler+the+70s+Dick+Jim+Me+etc+008b.jpg" width="320" /></span></a></div><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjIXFf-5DR3RK2SssiC0u2Gw3DeKeL-BTRvpv-j74csOcSwnNd3U0No9vrOzPlirsBBDSE3SaCvadkrm7K_EzLy3kVSXhNNAVTAKx2pylqpTi6FKLH_JpLANjvSPIy1OWh1BQbHRJlz1TsW/s640/Protest+days+Bill+Lee+PYM+Agnew+demo+Shadbolt+Feb+2021+019b.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><img border="0" data-original-height="424" data-original-width="640" height="424" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjIXFf-5DR3RK2SssiC0u2Gw3DeKeL-BTRvpv-j74csOcSwnNd3U0No9vrOzPlirsBBDSE3SaCvadkrm7K_EzLy3kVSXhNNAVTAKx2pylqpTi6FKLH_JpLANjvSPIy1OWh1BQbHRJlz1TsW/w640-h424/Protest+days+Bill+Lee+PYM+Agnew+demo+Shadbolt+Feb+2021+019b.jpg" width="640" /></span></a></div><p style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">We were not connected (see Barry Lee's PhD on the Movement) to Wellington but we were on the same side and this photograph is good.</span></p><p style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></p><p style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><br /></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgORgNn0H2V8TLTcg14RaC0r335dAFNd3xA5wbmSSwLQEleO1lPJRpCokhyz6ncJguhhGTmiT96YCKaSzINjvVi1BYu8ucbSvptaqxzyRnbVTKjs_0MIi5es6E1kmCiwMawZ7JX3QSvjptc/s2048/Personal+-+Mrs+Fowler+the+70s+Dick+Jim+Me+etc+028b.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1401" data-original-width="2048" height="438" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgORgNn0H2V8TLTcg14RaC0r335dAFNd3xA5wbmSSwLQEleO1lPJRpCokhyz6ncJguhhGTmiT96YCKaSzINjvVi1BYu8ucbSvptaqxzyRnbVTKjs_0MIi5es6E1kmCiwMawZ7JX3QSvjptc/w640-h438/Personal+-+Mrs+Fowler+the+70s+Dick+Jim+Me+etc+028b.jpg" width="640" /></span></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">Vanishing Point was on -- I saw it at least twice.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></div><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgr6Toa-YuUy7Db1r5ZazkmDQ96UvZ2W1wh8HKIPYRKT1tFW3zI9Dy4HIjaqD2NaVpEonwlNhOgsODVYe5UnQtJyYRBCTI7hQ5Yj7PBuNksyd65GzeNiWo4pXwetY9f67JygZ7vYhCoSzmE/s2048/Personal+-+Mrs+Fowler+the+70s+Dick+Jim+Me+etc+026b.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgr6Toa-YuUy7Db1r5ZazkmDQ96UvZ2W1wh8HKIPYRKT1tFW3zI9Dy4HIjaqD2NaVpEonwlNhOgsODVYe5UnQtJyYRBCTI7hQ5Yj7PBuNksyd65GzeNiWo4pXwetY9f67JygZ7vYhCoSzmE/w400-h300/Personal+-+Mrs+Fowler+the+70s+Dick+Jim+Me+etc+026b.jpg" width="400" /></span></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">Anti-apartheid demonstration Queen Street about 1969.</span></div><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTf6zJNof3H7wVIJ9sLf9ybAjOWGibjudulMnWGnjYDy2fbDf1MXNNfK4W6sGfCOri0Fafr6CUXzleO6ibj13zX-2CtC5zoT5ggcscZRJKqdu2Dj4Q0ebMDPolWpPxQT8QYw661Gvkj7vY/s2048/Personal+-+Mrs+Fowler+the+70s+Dick+Jim+Me+etc+024b.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1477" data-original-width="2048" height="231" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTf6zJNof3H7wVIJ9sLf9ybAjOWGibjudulMnWGnjYDy2fbDf1MXNNfK4W6sGfCOri0Fafr6CUXzleO6ibj13zX-2CtC5zoT5ggcscZRJKqdu2Dj4Q0ebMDPolWpPxQT8QYw661Gvkj7vY/s320/Personal+-+Mrs+Fowler+the+70s+Dick+Jim+Me+etc+024b.jpg" width="320" /></span></a></div><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPIw2gROcOfId_9AbIK8U_wDLtc8uRx0igNqIT04yU4ZUrmSr2R8p3kTlj2Ybw3Oh9ycTSAQ2mggNV7YPhtdboHssMWdyBXT2Cx9tWOPb7qRAISxXKPkQDDHUu1kB6InizNeUpL5vn01ti/s2048/Personal+-+Mrs+Fowler+the+70s+Dick+Jim+Me+etc+023b.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPIw2gROcOfId_9AbIK8U_wDLtc8uRx0igNqIT04yU4ZUrmSr2R8p3kTlj2Ybw3Oh9ycTSAQ2mggNV7YPhtdboHssMWdyBXT2Cx9tWOPb7qRAISxXKPkQDDHUu1kB6InizNeUpL5vn01ti/w400-h300/Personal+-+Mrs+Fowler+the+70s+Dick+Jim+Me+etc+023b.jpg" width="400" /></span></a></div><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjpqPWozRQh6xZZiwYCi2AmUCtkRjXUZmRqmXnA6HPsRk4CfD41cIMY0ZSRigVzED1ui9KP-tfnH5MkrjmhFTEIY081_hLiGQICYD532ZgYSn5liGtaHlFLi7CDs5M3UESjm2aLBWTyZ3U9/s2048/Personal+-+Mrs+Fowler+the+70s+Dick+Jim+Me+etc+022b.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjpqPWozRQh6xZZiwYCi2AmUCtkRjXUZmRqmXnA6HPsRk4CfD41cIMY0ZSRigVzED1ui9KP-tfnH5MkrjmhFTEIY081_hLiGQICYD532ZgYSn5liGtaHlFLi7CDs5M3UESjm2aLBWTyZ3U9/s320/Personal+-+Mrs+Fowler+the+70s+Dick+Jim+Me+etc+022b.jpg" width="320" /></span></a></div><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3nicWCJUPL9rzo2d4gWUG4i9kjMkzFMrgQTiSvTDFk_cEt1wEZGvtrYbMHIrzyCuciBBicDTGlgY8FeEybEkv516dZLVxvv39d60LUScF7NdAmLKh3H70WGEYYQdWdOWAdhSnjpdaTqzt/s2048/Personal+-+Mrs+Fowler+the+70s+Dick+Jim+Me+etc+021b.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3nicWCJUPL9rzo2d4gWUG4i9kjMkzFMrgQTiSvTDFk_cEt1wEZGvtrYbMHIrzyCuciBBicDTGlgY8FeEybEkv516dZLVxvv39d60LUScF7NdAmLKh3H70WGEYYQdWdOWAdhSnjpdaTqzt/w640-h480/Personal+-+Mrs+Fowler+the+70s+Dick+Jim+Me+etc+021b.jpg" width="640" /></span></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">At Kent State University in the US students were gunned down by US right wing</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">military. It is not for nothing the US is considered by the Left even today</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">as the greatest and most terrible terrorist nations on the Earth. China is a good</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">progressive, cultured and peaceful nation. The Chinese led by Mao tse Tung brought</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">about a great and positive transformation of that ancient nation. Students here on capping</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">day I think re-enact the Kent State US Military atrocity and remind people of the</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">inhuman bombing of the US Imperialists.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></div><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1JCTXg5Xq3EiHPakF_JGXB5h4bt1spZeY1Byxs00iUpht8ZUcuif9V5wrUgHqbgJ10kroPSAugwtBfB7QrmffGLYZsZFPHPoxtnJMKTBfnAhQBP8i6wHs4uJrXb9E5A3j4l2X4xROQOo3/s2048/Personal+-+Mrs+Fowler+the+70s+Dick+Jim+Me+etc+019d.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1487" data-original-width="2048" height="290" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1JCTXg5Xq3EiHPakF_JGXB5h4bt1spZeY1Byxs00iUpht8ZUcuif9V5wrUgHqbgJ10kroPSAugwtBfB7QrmffGLYZsZFPHPoxtnJMKTBfnAhQBP8i6wHs4uJrXb9E5A3j4l2X4xROQOo3/w400-h290/Personal+-+Mrs+Fowler+the+70s+Dick+Jim+Me+etc+019d.jpg" width="400" /></span></a></div><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhttnY2dlO1YzbySeM_AGjHVpgWsPD_6vzxuqRmTHj6KgruDexZ5uAjlsL7GjNarJBtfQFZgVqlx82UwyxyCVeUfyCiVA3QHsMd4BQSDJUpJnz0axmVkj2oxr8ijO88Pan4Qz1TPd1FoUFa/s2048/Personal+-+Mrs+Fowler+the+70s+Dick+Jim+Me+etc+019b.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1761" data-original-width="2048" height="550" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhttnY2dlO1YzbySeM_AGjHVpgWsPD_6vzxuqRmTHj6KgruDexZ5uAjlsL7GjNarJBtfQFZgVqlx82UwyxyCVeUfyCiVA3QHsMd4BQSDJUpJnz0axmVkj2oxr8ijO88Pan4Qz1TPd1FoUFa/w640-h550/Personal+-+Mrs+Fowler+the+70s+Dick+Jim+Me+etc+019b.jpg" width="640" /></span></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">I perhaps should have studied photography -- it was suggested to me by a photographer we all called 'Ruffo' -- but while I was interested and Dick helped me I didn't get as many good shots as I might have. This was on Quay St. one night. I was fascinated here by the lights. Trains from the wharf used to take goods down Quay Street and I think they unloaded where the railway station was in those days, closer to Parnell. It had originally been where it is now. The Railways were being deliberately down graded</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">and made to look bad -- this meant that almost no one from the say mid 50s to then and indeed now in 2021 are in NZ without a car, no matter how "poor" they are. Later Robbie the Mayor's concept of Rapid Rail, in the mid 70s, was rejected. Rarely was the environment discussed -- Manapouri was a topic but we felt that the politics of revolution came first and cars we accepted. I mostly had 'bombs'. </span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">I bought cars over the years for $50, $80, $800, but rarely for more than $1000. (I later lived beside a mechanic -- in South Auckland and he helped me repair my cars or got me cheap ones.)</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: x-large; text-align: left;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">R</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1490" data-original-width="2048" height="466" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhIZ8C3QnFlmBmL-77451ft63pjHDcmCZ0a1OZlaRsFkJeipWvJIAk3RphpKMsTXFSNpQAO4OQ16KJi1O3ckY9k4SdPM4B_icKJ9f8nzlFFFWy6hkR-FNJhSM5o7bm6XgNdcSq4wRc3WYRw/w640-h466/Personal+-+Mrs+Fowler+the+70s+Dick+Jim+Me+etc+033b.jpg" width="640" /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">As the forces of the PYM and the Students of Resistance and many other working class people including the NZ Communist Party (the Labour Party and of course National as always supported</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">reactionary wars and massacres as long as trade could continue and the Bourgeois politicians got</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">their kick-backs and their mates their places or positions of their "advancement" -- they cooperated</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">in all Imperialist Wars and earlier the same sent soldiers and war ships into the Waikato to take over Maori Land. Many of these people are now hugely rich. But here is seen the great movement against</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">futile wars (something that should have been seen in the days of WWI -- that savage and futile war); here they turn out in great numbers to oppose the American military adventures.</div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgCIHI12ukY3cQoYW30vkWNI-5RZVM0oLJk1JW4scXwUbL3RlD0n-H06Vm8XYrcWNuve8oK3fedq-O4Q79NUiY3QB3OUIXQEh2Phw7RKUWho5Y2MRnILi-mX2xlVOaGMCXW9q5w_fDISuRq/s2048/Personal+-+Mrs+Fowler+the+70s+Dick+Jim+Me+etc+036b.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgCIHI12ukY3cQoYW30vkWNI-5RZVM0oLJk1JW4scXwUbL3RlD0n-H06Vm8XYrcWNuve8oK3fedq-O4Q79NUiY3QB3OUIXQEh2Phw7RKUWho5Y2MRnILi-mX2xlVOaGMCXW9q5w_fDISuRq/s320/Personal+-+Mrs+Fowler+the+70s+Dick+Jim+Me+etc+036b.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiShpw0NtHV0U2xkQ1kJT1wyUL4KGndUCYB2yLQyeJsO6CiVmO5aI_srqulimWZCaLn9UufvCEQKaE2TvnaAL6xaPtGoqxffaiWXVbHIrA-d_EPBV_8uuh3a54ore4n61BpfaIEKoKVq02S/s2048/Personal+-+Mrs+Fowler+the+70s+Dick+Jim+Me+etc+047b.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1399" data-original-width="2048" height="219" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiShpw0NtHV0U2xkQ1kJT1wyUL4KGndUCYB2yLQyeJsO6CiVmO5aI_srqulimWZCaLn9UufvCEQKaE2TvnaAL6xaPtGoqxffaiWXVbHIrA-d_EPBV_8uuh3a54ore4n61BpfaIEKoKVq02S/s320/Personal+-+Mrs+Fowler+the+70s+Dick+Jim+Me+etc+047b.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKmAwBA5qwhOFiks1Leg_WRckBO-w92CJo3_MDPCWvrflr69UYbVoqizdjuGRZLF_9hAo8PsXuM4vW9uhwm9YnkIPxtRpcED4naNc-6uPqmDJ0vtC3kUN0NNZO1MRPzOaa1ikOtqwrpO3s/s2048/Personal+-+Mrs+Fowler+the+70s+Dick+Jim+Me+etc+055b.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1419" data-original-width="2048" height="278" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKmAwBA5qwhOFiks1Leg_WRckBO-w92CJo3_MDPCWvrflr69UYbVoqizdjuGRZLF_9hAo8PsXuM4vW9uhwm9YnkIPxtRpcED4naNc-6uPqmDJ0vtC3kUN0NNZO1MRPzOaa1ikOtqwrpO3s/w400-h278/Personal+-+Mrs+Fowler+the+70s+Dick+Jim+Me+etc+055b.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">I followed 'Rusty' around taking shots of him spreading good will. There were many</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">ways people acted in those days. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh53rf_K25qdTmNxaDvQc6fvFnqtScBv9vyIpk49dmRlySvzTeYmqNN4_Ayp681-IQ2wrNhM8JFGRllyiFqDvlWF3NeT1PMlxEJ5alZaJDH3OKxOK7hRSluolzoVOSklkfDqI7qET8KgFYT/s320/Personal+-+Mrs+Fowler+the+70s+Dick+Jim+Me+etc+037cd.jpg" width="320" /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9xGM4UIQnga4Dk5V172lrGYzLhpkPhbk3W60m-kPHIjMAMmkIeBnLitxWgZgXbUhSLTPBXhkPM5a2Z82y8hsD38ipxofJoCfc2ledpEwsoHHHdsTWqQgTZMoHIs6XFe5n-zHUXfAXNEBM/s2048/Personal+-+Mrs+Fowler+the+70s+Dick+Jim+Me+etc+044b.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9xGM4UIQnga4Dk5V172lrGYzLhpkPhbk3W60m-kPHIjMAMmkIeBnLitxWgZgXbUhSLTPBXhkPM5a2Z82y8hsD38ipxofJoCfc2ledpEwsoHHHdsTWqQgTZMoHIs6XFe5n-zHUXfAXNEBM/w480-h640/Personal+-+Mrs+Fowler+the+70s+Dick+Jim+Me+etc+044b.jpg" width="480" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;">Another protest. The bombing spread from Vietnam to Cambodia and Laos. As in Japan, civilians were targeted. More were killed by fire bombs in Japan than were by the atomic bombs. And which 'free' and 'enlightened' nation has ever used the terrible atomic bomb and tested hydrogen bombs in the Marshalls, and now sees China as a threat. China who have invaded and bombed no one. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"> <span style="text-align: left;">________________________________________ _________________________________________</span></div></span></div><p></p><p></p><p style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">More of where I worked -- Hellaby's Freezing Works. </span></p><p style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHDSTcbimkeVTvlemb9biTE5kX2adI91B0sAF3R_mU3OG5zQh3tv8j2Vm_GCtNYKpVwMDvKZXqW1BPc_A-ol1Vpn_Kk0mYQdJOiL7JC7wZBtnIK93QgCMPkne7lQxElbDAHe3tV2cPg6Fa/s1571/Eyelight+-+Hellabys+Dick+Scott+April+2021+002b.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1571" data-original-width="1321" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHDSTcbimkeVTvlemb9biTE5kX2adI91B0sAF3R_mU3OG5zQh3tv8j2Vm_GCtNYKpVwMDvKZXqW1BPc_A-ol1Vpn_Kk0mYQdJOiL7JC7wZBtnIK93QgCMPkne7lQxElbDAHe3tV2cPg6Fa/w538-h640/Eyelight+-+Hellabys+Dick+Scott+April+2021+002b.jpg" width="538" /></span></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVMqXnkfgUbPVzOtNPLGNArnyAw_JAgwgykxsfbPCEL5vqHpylMIvz8Kx4sVibwrTg4oVIZL3OxhSMyy0XMjEcm0rMSuXyH4meVH98AyyyPihUJvcOO3vrJvUmF6r0rVRNkO8cEDN7nJO2/s709/Eyelight+-+Hellabys+Dick+Scott+April+2021+003b.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><img border="0" data-original-height="709" data-original-width="692" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVMqXnkfgUbPVzOtNPLGNArnyAw_JAgwgykxsfbPCEL5vqHpylMIvz8Kx4sVibwrTg4oVIZL3OxhSMyy0XMjEcm0rMSuXyH4meVH98AyyyPihUJvcOO3vrJvUmF6r0rVRNkO8cEDN7nJO2/s320/Eyelight+-+Hellabys+Dick+Scott+April+2021+003b.jpg" /></span></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">Richard Hellaby, 1898.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></div><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgeMOfu7Ykw7I0i0fsKwi3StOTI_znavFUrssqdXo4D3LJQanvsCa24ioyS3BND7pF-K0GcPA4dj3WTLnPBP83La1uaElXAj4eeio6YahCZ1wwdXIBaaIN9FYY8RMg2dj4fVFm22Lf_sSrN/s1389/Eyelight+-+Hellabys+Dick+Scott+April+2021+005b.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1389" data-original-width="1131" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgeMOfu7Ykw7I0i0fsKwi3StOTI_znavFUrssqdXo4D3LJQanvsCa24ioyS3BND7pF-K0GcPA4dj3WTLnPBP83La1uaElXAj4eeio6YahCZ1wwdXIBaaIN9FYY8RMg2dj4fVFm22Lf_sSrN/w522-h640/Eyelight+-+Hellabys+Dick+Scott+April+2021+005b.jpg" width="522" /></span></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></div><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1R420Gi12wE7RDmieenCdqoVVB7bvj4NcmjSR6qMu9-G5FnGCwajQoUBT4nItaVNOiFzMWNfdM60Ik12-INoIFu38bRVVeHC3Y7sTAECq76g5OLnGwhmtE4uj_uwEdTHwaeinJwvD4a0c/s1062/Eyelight+-+Hellabys+Dick+Scott+April+2021+006b.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><img border="0" data-original-height="597" data-original-width="1062" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1R420Gi12wE7RDmieenCdqoVVB7bvj4NcmjSR6qMu9-G5FnGCwajQoUBT4nItaVNOiFzMWNfdM60Ik12-INoIFu38bRVVeHC3Y7sTAECq76g5OLnGwhmtE4uj_uwEdTHwaeinJwvD4a0c/w400-h225/Eyelight+-+Hellabys+Dick+Scott+April+2021+006b.jpg" width="400" /></span></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></div><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXHbW7cAJ4IjY8IRLPmJaR3orX3e6EJRIlMeycg_2Z798XsyL7dIgMkaoRHBYqLGyfqH0OuJ70I4SrK-ib2DxtzXIHhUnh9oIKxY8GbfIYu-kOWpR8_nLGpSsxSV_SZkGom0RmnN4-Xzan/s903/Eyelight+-+Hellabys+Dick+Scott+April+2021+007b.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><img border="0" data-original-height="814" data-original-width="903" height="576" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXHbW7cAJ4IjY8IRLPmJaR3orX3e6EJRIlMeycg_2Z798XsyL7dIgMkaoRHBYqLGyfqH0OuJ70I4SrK-ib2DxtzXIHhUnh9oIKxY8GbfIYu-kOWpR8_nLGpSsxSV_SZkGom0RmnN4-Xzan/w640-h576/Eyelight+-+Hellabys+Dick+Scott+April+2021+007b.jpg" width="640" /></span></a></div><div><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">Sony Waru who I recall as a dignified Maori and a kind of leader. He had a great mane of white hair. Here he greets Sir Bernard Fergusson with a 'hongi'. Sony once spoke when there was a strike organised by the workers, not the Union. We on the left, more or less extreme, suspected that the Unions in general were basically in the pocket of Big Money. Muldoons "Communist strikes" we suspected were organized by Skinner and Muldoon. This meant that Skinner gained in his power and financial status and Muldoon got mileage with his "reds under the beds" scare tactics. Seeing it all now I realise it was all more complex and even then we saw the Unions as important. Nevertheless the theory was probably not totally wrong. At the strike meeting Jack Duncan urged us all back to work. But at other times we were "ordered out on strike". Perhaps it was not so simple. At the strike meeting, in any case I spoke about the ongoing Vietnam war and how we workers needed unity whatever our ethnicity. I showed some of the photographs seen here on this Blog. Yes, as some said, war was always like that. Nowadays I cannot understand how anyone would want to kill any other being. Sure we were all involved in killing animals. These workmen were good men overall. Good working class men. The conundrum of what humans do to animals, the complexity of what we are, these things I was aware of but times were different. </span></div><div><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-size: x-large;"> <span> <span style="color: red; font-family: arial;"><b>The people, and the people alone, are the motive force <span> </span><span> </span>in the making <span>of </span></b></span></span><b><span style="color: red; font-family: arial;">world history. </span></b>("On Coalition Government", </span></div><div><span style="font-size: x-large;"><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span>Mao Tse Tung, 1945.) </span></div><div><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></div><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqoB9H0sa4FDCmhzBmjAH21vdUvXBaGQxsGStjvVm4Cblfp-PXa-I4Sjz1lD2B6MhOn7PmUmmCk0CtZXX_rH3WK3HGCqiptopIV9R3kGoBSnn52ccmHr2wp4pDAwFOIkuaPZUVSPlYx1vC/s1011/Eyelight+-+Hellabys+Dick+Scott+April+2021+008b.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1011" data-original-width="956" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqoB9H0sa4FDCmhzBmjAH21vdUvXBaGQxsGStjvVm4Cblfp-PXa-I4Sjz1lD2B6MhOn7PmUmmCk0CtZXX_rH3WK3HGCqiptopIV9R3kGoBSnn52ccmHr2wp4pDAwFOIkuaPZUVSPlYx1vC/w606-h640/Eyelight+-+Hellabys+Dick+Scott+April+2021+008b.jpg" width="606" /></span></a></div><div><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-size: x-large;">The man standing behind the Maori in a cloak was my foreman when I worked on the Slaughterhouse.</span></div><div><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></div><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-hGY29Q7uAmjszcBnhpG89M4Fo6FhmMBzSgO23mgVIBO1gQmHOWJVWvSXWdGipQH21wz1C3VXkvE_uV5hbJrbxYM9h1j-Q5RqsCJ8nqxr1NYTXQFAbnAjmtTJ8xo_C3sO1Xj657xtcDZP/s977/Eyelight+-+Hellabys+Dick+Scott+April+2021+004b.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><img border="0" data-original-height="788" data-original-width="977" height="517" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-hGY29Q7uAmjszcBnhpG89M4Fo6FhmMBzSgO23mgVIBO1gQmHOWJVWvSXWdGipQH21wz1C3VXkvE_uV5hbJrbxYM9h1j-Q5RqsCJ8nqxr1NYTXQFAbnAjmtTJ8xo_C3sO1Xj657xtcDZP/w640-h517/Eyelight+-+Hellabys+Dick+Scott+April+2021+004b.jpg" width="640" /></span></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">The Hellabies were significant people in NZ. We have to see</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><span> </span><br /></span></div><span style="font-size: x-large;"> qualities in all kinds of people. <br /></span><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></div><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqthMdZLGyCu3b2KNQtz_QCOLHQjGq_e-FN3QKDctOjFi5uCj0tkTKPR8YcKJMSoBX68PTAwW1I1sKl5Zw0p9-iht2EgAShizR3qQ6Nf0SFeQsx9OzYTtSp9WVRLyDvs74ic4qgPzA0OYU/s895/Eyelight+-+Hellabys+Dick+Scott+April+2021+009b.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><img border="0" data-original-height="821" data-original-width="895" height="588" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqthMdZLGyCu3b2KNQtz_QCOLHQjGq_e-FN3QKDctOjFi5uCj0tkTKPR8YcKJMSoBX68PTAwW1I1sKl5Zw0p9-iht2EgAShizR3qQ6Nf0SFeQsx9OzYTtSp9WVRLyDvs74ic4qgPzA0OYU/w640-h588/Eyelight+-+Hellabys+Dick+Scott+April+2021+009b.jpg" width="640" /></span></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">When I was 9 or 10 or so my father would take me in to King's Wharf, or the 'Head Office' or to a work place where he was supervising renovations or work done. He was proud of having risen from being a</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">fitter's mate, farm labourer etc. He had come from England ca. 1927 after my uncle Geoff who became a plant disease scientist. He worked with the Chinese marketers in Auckland and Mangere.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: xx-large;"> </span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></div><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6LigBTn-MX9G-xvx3AqQNbf565aCOj9OJreCjAnJlO_m1CLlJl8XyFo8FcEJvvn5EUXoFYWbgf02wU6X55IKGb3Arm23byfCpBZaqv6ykQBmwS40LAK0c1udQF8eGGxfMuZMJXyVfSUY4/s965/Eyelight+-+Hellabys+Dick+Scott+April+2021+011b.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><img border="0" data-original-height="760" data-original-width="965" height="504" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6LigBTn-MX9G-xvx3AqQNbf565aCOj9OJreCjAnJlO_m1CLlJl8XyFo8FcEJvvn5EUXoFYWbgf02wU6X55IKGb3Arm23byfCpBZaqv6ykQBmwS40LAK0c1udQF8eGGxfMuZMJXyVfSUY4/w640-h504/Eyelight+-+Hellabys+Dick+Scott+April+2021+011b.jpg" width="640" /></span></a></div><div><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-size: x-large;">Even without Scott's book I can name many of these and to this day recognise quite few. Here is the</span></div><div><span style="font-size: x-large;">caption: Works committee of management and union representatives formed in 1969 [they were trying</span></div><div><span style="font-size: x-large;">to bring in time and motion restrictions etc] From left: Wynn Inger, freezer supervisor; Arthur Peach, industrial relations manager; Tom Graham, works manager; (I recall him); 'Bricky' Wilson, cutting room delegate; (I remember him); Dick Ryman, administration manager (I thought he was the engineer who my father worked with as I recognise him also); Ray Herring, stockmen's delegate; Morry Jenkins, assistant to the production manager (I also recall him); Gerry Monaghan, personnel officer (he hired me but later when I 'got radical' they stopped me from getting a job there); Jack Duncan, works union president (I recall him 'calling us out' but when we workers went 'out' he wasn't so keen, but he was good); Bill Bourne, works union secretary (recall him); Bill Bourne, works union secretary (idem); Norm Blackman, men's cannery delegate. </span></div><div><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-size: x-large;">Around this time I was a "deputy delegate" on the Offal Floor. The delegate had one eye and sometimes</span></div><div><span style="font-size: x-large;">would simply point at an ammonia pipe. This would cause a "white coat" boss to rush out. He would talks about a strike because of leaking pipe. He was called 'The gunner'. I quite liked him and around this time became the 'deputy dawg'. For reasons I will leave out I came to not like him. He doesn't appear here. Most of the workers were good. </span></div><div><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></div><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="color: #6aa84f; font-family: helvetica; font-size: x-large;"><b>Slaughter House</b></span></div><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgd0VIo2P69GVNNiwo_4sFNKSZ0FgoKPkV-ac7lufAXEuJupxVH2L83sw5DUMNs02isgoUE7_QB_M2LByRVPYj0mLcpPX5YLrwkwyj_Hyeg958dTFFIeAi9UpF9eIOQQH5l18O85tGR87C0/s1028/Eyelight+-+Hellabys+Dick+Scott+April+2021+010b.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1028" data-original-width="998" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgd0VIo2P69GVNNiwo_4sFNKSZ0FgoKPkV-ac7lufAXEuJupxVH2L83sw5DUMNs02isgoUE7_QB_M2LByRVPYj0mLcpPX5YLrwkwyj_Hyeg958dTFFIeAi9UpF9eIOQQH5l18O85tGR87C0/w622-h640/Eyelight+-+Hellabys+Dick+Scott+April+2021+010b.jpg" width="622" /></span></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">Some people are opposed to meat companies. I had mixed feelings about working there, but</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">I liked it in many ways. Meat works in NZ are mostly very clean. The workers were not </span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">arrogant or "complex" people I later met. I wrote a story that shows my ambiguity. But I love</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">meat and I would be a hypocrite not to support freezing works as my parents' income</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">was from my father's occupation as an architect-engineer, reorganizing the works, and also</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">he did the design work for 'Peach Products' (his name is left out of Dick Scott's book). Was he away?</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">We don't know why. One day, years after starting, my father opened up about the Hellabys.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">Many of them and those associated were, at the least, strange. One painter, who fell from a scaffold was so badly injured his legs had to be shortened. The place, the meat works, was a chaos. There was a </span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">constant threat of ammonia leaks. But one of the Hellabies, Alan I think, hearing I was doing some art </span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">(I was about 9 being coached by my father) gave me a 'how to' book which I was pleased to get. I </span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">read it and appreciated it. I still have it. I don't privilege of judge individuals. All these people are men or women, struggling in life. Richard Hellaby who died much earlier than this photo was taken I think, started as a butcher. I think about these men here, before my time there (ca. 1966,1967 and 1969 usually in 'the season'. I also remember enjoying the works' Xmas parties where we got lollies and games were played (at Richmond reserve, Hellabys used the water tower on there).</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhCSnAqiXur7yG0CGVj2f5eewTaxfC6uPLhkAv1Is6SaUWw58hYIP408oSLufLSCN1wUECpyjLBVlUH9ziie9sBB9ZRmZvtDbMcKc-IqzOfZFdDlGAr83vJgoTpo4rzRmFgMTUTtJUqKLVy/s1014/Eyelight+-+Hellabys+Dick+Scott+April+2021+012b.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><img border="0" data-original-height="732" data-original-width="1014" height="462" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhCSnAqiXur7yG0CGVj2f5eewTaxfC6uPLhkAv1Is6SaUWw58hYIP408oSLufLSCN1wUECpyjLBVlUH9ziie9sBB9ZRmZvtDbMcKc-IqzOfZFdDlGAr83vJgoTpo4rzRmFgMTUTtJUqKLVy/w640-h462/Eyelight+-+Hellabys+Dick+Scott+April+2021+012b.jpg" width="640" /></span></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">Bert Plant and Jack McMahon (left). Two old working men.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></div><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEij5GV172hxADTuaZW7GvK7Uonp-LwoFSLqcquDpp9ykDiHlwrWt7WWMs6zp2aFKVugYl9Pwps9dELcZmhpVxxeK3L3erkdnruekHbrqxAUVdXWwEuEpLZLTT0TFLq4rvDhnXYsJWN6DtHH/s1117/Eyelight+-+Hellabys+Dick+Scott+April+2021+014b.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><img border="0" data-original-height="905" data-original-width="1117" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEij5GV172hxADTuaZW7GvK7Uonp-LwoFSLqcquDpp9ykDiHlwrWt7WWMs6zp2aFKVugYl9Pwps9dELcZmhpVxxeK3L3erkdnruekHbrqxAUVdXWwEuEpLZLTT0TFLq4rvDhnXYsJWN6DtHH/s320/Eyelight+-+Hellabys+Dick+Scott+April+2021+014b.jpg" width="320" /></span></a></div><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span><p style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">_</span></p><p style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">______________________________________________________ ________________________</span></p><p style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"> <span style="font-family: helvetica;"><u> <b><span style="color: red;"><span> </span><span>Cecil Fowler and Ray Gough and Books.</span></span></b></u></span></span></p><p style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">At Cecil Fowler's place there were many interesting books, of NZ history, and world history as well as books of political significance, and literature of various countries. There I recall seeing books by John A Lee, and many others. I started a kind of journey reading about Chu Teh in <i>The Great Road - the Life and Times of Chu Teh </i>(The Chinese Revolution and war against the Japanese) by Agnes Smedley. This led me to read Edgar Snow's epic about the this great revolution and Jack Belden's <i>China Shakes the World. </i>I also read Edmund Wilson's<i> To the Finland Station re the Russian Revolution. </i>Ray Gough, a fitter who tested axles with a radar like electronic connected to an oscilloscope (crack testing), asked me one day if I wanted to read a book about the Vietnam War. Ray was a fairly quiet thoughtful man who I saw later in demonstrations and at the 1981 Springbok protests at Eden Park. He brought in <i>Rape of Vietnam</i> by H.G.Slingsby. At the "Big Pink" I copied most of it out. Then I returned it to him. I more recently acquired that and Vietnam fights Back by Slingsby from overseas. </span></p><p style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><br /></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3jlF-OyonQ0sKJsrfuY2Z9v1ShHZRnh2O5kjlh8uRlNWYEJm5YdYoCQSL2T-8nSspjmybgyZdYBGXoxAVylj1J11MTm03obuSKkL3r-oifvjL3N1zkWZ0ti6Rx1IUPzgm26nmb4IJh0P8/s1585/Vietnam+%2526+other+War+Books+Project+March+2021+015b.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1585" data-original-width="1037" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3jlF-OyonQ0sKJsrfuY2Z9v1ShHZRnh2O5kjlh8uRlNWYEJm5YdYoCQSL2T-8nSspjmybgyZdYBGXoxAVylj1J11MTm03obuSKkL3r-oifvjL3N1zkWZ0ti6Rx1IUPzgm26nmb4IJh0P8/w418-h640/Vietnam+%2526+other+War+Books+Project+March+2021+015b.jpg" width="418" /></span></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">This was the book that Ray Gough gave me at the Railway Workshops. I read it, fascinated and horrified. The world I had lived in, sure I lived in a working class area in Panmure (mostly European); but my father had was an Architect and received a good salary. Life was good for most people, but we got free meat and apples were bought by the box load. These were beautiful apples each individually wrapped up. It is true we weren't rich, but we had plenty. My father bought the State House (where I live now) in 1956 and payed it off. He always voted National. We believed in Britain, the law, the greatness of the US and so on, as well as the "wonderful" nature of NZ. I did know of the horrors of the wars and we had read Anne Frank's story via her diary at school, as well as poems such as 'Anthem for Doomed Youth' by Wilfred Owen (although later I came to know the strange and beautiful poetry of Keith Douglas, who, for biographical reasons, like the military and war, but wrote some eerily great poems on and during WWII. However, in general I am still deeply opposed to wars). I was sceptical -- more and more -- of for example the stupid military training we did (I have come to hate armies of any kind, this hatred of standing armies was something many common and middle people shared in England in times leading up to and including the reign of Elizabeth the First (<i>English Social History</i> by G M Trevelyan). </span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"> Hitler etc weren't popular per se. By and large we believed that we were part of a good world where the English had laid the foundations, NZ had benefited, and we looked, perhaps not uncritically, but with a lot of hope, to the United States (it is of course all a lot more complex, as indeed I elide the Cuban "missile crisis" and the threat of Nuclear war, but I will go back to earlier times in another, later "instalment" of these memories). </span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"> But reading the above book shook me. This was an entirely different world. In it was revealed a world that I might have expected, but here was effectively what seemed a nightmare, a horror. This book and some of the others radically changed my life. I copied the book out by hand, I read it and re-read it. </span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"> </span></div><span style="font-size: x-large;"><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> <br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWC8uvSuwWZMxVWGVkMzM1PXnDbjV5fXwNTbbo_1fDGf2Vgg4Mf5MJ-j0bSsOJL0SRESr7cTQDZfqyRytItSqvMgcPn8ITretzDy3Z09xfcn_wkA3rEYOSbG3E6QGzyF18o855gsLQwEC4/s1314/Vietnam+%2526+other+War+Books+Project+March+2021+011b.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1314" data-original-width="854" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWC8uvSuwWZMxVWGVkMzM1PXnDbjV5fXwNTbbo_1fDGf2Vgg4Mf5MJ-j0bSsOJL0SRESr7cTQDZfqyRytItSqvMgcPn8ITretzDy3Z09xfcn_wkA3rEYOSbG3E6QGzyF18o855gsLQwEC4/w416-h640/Vietnam+%2526+other+War+Books+Project+March+2021+011b.jpg" width="416" /></a></div><br /> </span><span> </span><span>Edmund Wilson, I was to find years later, was a famous critic whose The Wound and the Bow and other critical books of great depth enjoyed many years later. This book fascinated me it dealt with the lead up to Lenin's move from Switzerland via Finland to Russia where he</span></span></div><div><span style="font-size: x-large;">became the leader of the great Bolshevic Revolution. This book I read later, it was the kind of book </span><span style="font-size: xx-large;">Dick Fowler and Cecil would have known. By the time I read this, fascinated, I had become convinced. </span><span style="font-size: xx-large;">I read other political books. Some I have read more recently such as </span><i style="font-size: xx-large;">Bury My Heart at Wounded Knee</i><span style="font-size: xx-large;"> but that book was known by then to millions of young people. </span></div><div><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-size: x-large;"> </span><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhaTxMAht5_TmyI8W-n1d_ISvU_VOQdSonsCBTexeFbSTemjcLjTnUDcguHgLRsgrVa7bFlKkUak044VqYIL957x63PbwG0FMzs_AvIKciLZiKIX-jwBztYAd3tV71ZHh35WYOi3zj4Dfzz/s621/Vietnam+%2526+other+War+Books+Project+March+2021+002b.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><img border="0" data-original-height="621" data-original-width="412" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhaTxMAht5_TmyI8W-n1d_ISvU_VOQdSonsCBTexeFbSTemjcLjTnUDcguHgLRsgrVa7bFlKkUak044VqYIL957x63PbwG0FMzs_AvIKciLZiKIX-jwBztYAd3tV71ZHh35WYOi3zj4Dfzz/w424-h640/Vietnam+%2526+other+War+Books+Project+March+2021+002b.jpg" width="424" /></span></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><u><span style="color: #f1c232;"><b>This (for me then) massive history of China and the Revolutionary War, the Great March, and the life and role of Chu Teh was a book I borrowed from Cecil Fowler.</b></span> </u>I would read other books on this topic.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">Chu Teh had been an opium addict and a member of a large gang who saw the need to rid himself of his addiction and to join with Mao's forces. Agnes Smedley, an American, had been in China: she also wrote a novel which I have. She was a great writer and a deeply involved radical. Here the great achievements of a man who became known to many people as "Chu Mao" (they sometimes confused Mao-tse-Tung and Chu Teh) are written of. But it is really the achievements of the Chinese people: the workers, the students and intellectuals, some business people, and the huge peasant population of China. This was the reason of the enormous success of the Chinese Revolution in bringing hope to a people exploited by rapacious landlords, European Capitalists (e.g the Opium Wars in which the British forced the Chinese to import opium and also to grow it, then it was exported to England where in the C18th it was cheaper to obtain than alcohol (hence, say Coleridge's addiction and his terrible nightmares, and the vicissitudes of Thomas De Quincey's fascinating but tragic C<i>onfessions of and English Opium-Eater</i> and some of the books of Charles Dickens (e.g.<i>The Mystery of Edwin Drood</i>) where opium addiction is a part of the novel. I have read all of these books (almost every book written by Dickens either more recently or in my years at Tamaki Intermediate school) and the works of Coleridge. As well as pushing out the Capitalists and the traitor Kuomintang who constantly, taking Chiang Kai Chek's lead, cooperated with the Japanese, despite being captured by the Communists several times, and agreeing to help them fight the Japanese. As it was the great leaders Mao and Chu Teh and the Chinese people, like the Vietnamese later, defeated the full strength of the Japanese Army. The relative ease of their victory showed the inferior and muddled tactics of the US who also, like the French colonists (who were also highly exploitative of the whole of Indo-China, and also quite brutal, as the British had been in India) before them, showed similar incompetence in Vietnam.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjsq6F1aEZeVQvXRSZJzcWuubjmafoY_ctg5KPdV2F0hRngPiADSjc1eS5r_iM6Fe6FKPrtS0FaWisGyflvktMyLMe8JsxR8QTdENno4T5dRDWyQqfWmBkm8ixZn89OgW3Cei0QLqxZEP9J/s918/Vietnam+%2526+other+War+Books+Project+March+2021+003b.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><img border="0" data-original-height="797" data-original-width="918" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjsq6F1aEZeVQvXRSZJzcWuubjmafoY_ctg5KPdV2F0hRngPiADSjc1eS5r_iM6Fe6FKPrtS0FaWisGyflvktMyLMe8JsxR8QTdENno4T5dRDWyQqfWmBkm8ixZn89OgW3Cei0QLqxZEP9J/s320/Vietnam+%2526+other+War+Books+Project+March+2021+003b.jpg" width="320" /></span></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">The map on the front end paper. The rest is shown on the back end papers. The route of the Great March can be seen. After regrouping the Chinese Army then proceeded to annihilate the Japanese fascists with not assistance from anyone else. The People had triumphed!</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></div><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjvvHreWyVlJ9oQWohGgvxizlttkewjUIHMCf1XxwOmcBkmweo9EgoyRkMzumK76IFy_EtTLKhkg1-Jdmk-zbi0xDmsYA0_rSHcbisCW8GB2O-fmb8Zdpqzv5fODL_uLM7DUEGzxadW2YcT/s1199/Vietnam+%2526+other+War+Books+Project+March+2021+004b.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1199" data-original-width="888" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjvvHreWyVlJ9oQWohGgvxizlttkewjUIHMCf1XxwOmcBkmweo9EgoyRkMzumK76IFy_EtTLKhkg1-Jdmk-zbi0xDmsYA0_rSHcbisCW8GB2O-fmb8Zdpqzv5fODL_uLM7DUEGzxadW2YcT/w296-h400/Vietnam+%2526+other+War+Books+Project+March+2021+004b.jpg" width="296" /></span></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="color: #fcff01; font-size: x-large;"><b><u style="background-color: #cfe2f3;">One of the most extraordinary military leaders in history, </u></b></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="color: #fcff01; font-size: x-large;"><u style="background-color: #cfe2f3;"><b>Chu Teh</b>.</u></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">Most important, as well as books of NZ politics and history were various books about China, theoretical books on Marxism, books on the struggle of the Palestinian people against the Zionist aggressors, </span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">Here are some of the relevant books. I wasn't, at this time, reading as much as it seems, but certainly I was not reading much in the way of literature. (More on the adventures perhaps in another "instalment, meanwhile some of the things I got often at the Progressive Book shop then run by Len Parker (in Darby street, another place to congregate and talk to Len and others, and to buy the odd book, as well as, more regularly, The People's Voice). </span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAWHx_utg-dQh7AqfQivnL4flm0dnCBrWEpvVpAt6YWz0Nsvc_vHx0SvyzfeMSTUzcr7pOkMqOVvrth0u7iaAHluPM7aCyNX09LM6yPLq2o655CizVBP6VCfDyn-JEElz2M0d_k5ZA8bug/s1442/Vietnam+%2526+other+War+Books+Project+March+2021+012b.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1442" data-original-width="907" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAWHx_utg-dQh7AqfQivnL4flm0dnCBrWEpvVpAt6YWz0Nsvc_vHx0SvyzfeMSTUzcr7pOkMqOVvrth0u7iaAHluPM7aCyNX09LM6yPLq2o655CizVBP6VCfDyn-JEElz2M0d_k5ZA8bug/w402-h640/Vietnam+%2526+other+War+Books+Project+March+2021+012b.jpg" width="402" /></span></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">Jack Belden was deeply interested in China. He could speak Chinese. He jumped ship and went into China to contact Mao and other revolutionaries. This is his deeply interesting and revealing book of the Chinese Revolution. Like Edgar Snow, he witnessed the great progress made by the Chinese revolution. He had a lot of courage like Peter Arnett (the NZ-born Pulitzer prize winning journalist who refused to say to Bush that a milk powder factory was a nuclear arms factory (thereby it showing the stupidity and criminal nature of the British-American invasion of Afghanistan and Iraq), and like him had a critical view, but & like Arnett he was always close to events (his leg was severely shattered at Salerno, as he was covering the Italian invasion by the Allies in WWII. </span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"> More recently I got my son to read this history.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></div><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJq7D-P6j869s0DloyITzSI_haTEcCqq1orGnuElupxHkrkR5yjddn0jSQnfNJZ6TF8zF9FThvkSH4HrTlfJ0FxCajgdaqpTyc5OmFFm2oEgFt6yAQES2-KquTjxVSpGivRkUVLgzYu2pa/s620/Vietnam+%2526+other+War+Books+Project+March+2021+010b.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><img border="0" data-original-height="620" data-original-width="432" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJq7D-P6j869s0DloyITzSI_haTEcCqq1orGnuElupxHkrkR5yjddn0jSQnfNJZ6TF8zF9FThvkSH4HrTlfJ0FxCajgdaqpTyc5OmFFm2oEgFt6yAQES2-KquTjxVSpGivRkUVLgzYu2pa/w279-h400/Vietnam+%2526+other+War+Books+Project+March+2021+010b.jpg" width="279" /></span></a></div><span style="font-size: x-large;">This was interesting. A lot of course is based on speculation, as we cannot know what humans were</span></div><div><span style="font-size: x-large;">like pre-history. But Marx and Engels' works are</span></div><div><span style="font-size: x-large;">still influential. Bertrand Russell cited them in an</span></div><div><span style="font-size: x-large;">interview as the most influential philosophers. </span></div><div><span style="font-size: x-large;">Much of it is also valid, or as valid as anything</span></div><div><span style="font-size: x-large;">can be thus shown to be. </span></div><div><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-size: x-large;">My own philosophy is nowadays more complex</span></div><div><span style="font-size: x-large;">and includes problems in epistemology etc. </span></div><div><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-size: x-large;">But the powerful idealism and compassion of Marx</span></div><div><span style="font-size: x-large;">and Engels was deeply important.</span></div><div><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-size: x-large;">I wouldn't separate Materialism from Idealism. </span></div><div><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-size: x-large;">Marx had begun studying Hegel etc but turned after</span></div><div><span style="font-size: x-large;">the extensive revolutions and civil disturbances and</span></div><div><span style="font-size: x-large;">violent actions in Europe around 1848 to writing his</span></div><div><span style="font-size: x-large;"><i>Das Kapital</i> and such as <i>The Communist Manifesto</i>.<br /></span><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirzAri0WBB62c4WrWVSB5Hu2MIMYeSy4dwqLU40YXbWJm_d8z10-gD921fieyim73l2rr6aNTUX1_RZh9htC96Qdebcs2G_f_-Z33O77-hMelb_sZyMvA0IaMzQqd0m8kdn3mitdxaCxMT/s998/Vietnam+%2526+other+War+Books+Project+March+2021+009b.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><img border="0" data-original-height="998" data-original-width="746" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirzAri0WBB62c4WrWVSB5Hu2MIMYeSy4dwqLU40YXbWJm_d8z10-gD921fieyim73l2rr6aNTUX1_RZh9htC96Qdebcs2G_f_-Z33O77-hMelb_sZyMvA0IaMzQqd0m8kdn3mitdxaCxMT/w478-h640/Vietnam+%2526+other+War+Books+Project+March+2021+009b.jpg" width="478" /></span></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">Said once by Scott Hamilton to be "modelled" on the form of Goethe's <i>Faust, </i>this dramatic work is worth reading and studying. I have read Marlowe's famous play of the same name, but only Part One of</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">Goethe's great book. An exaggeration by Scott? Regardless it might even be in someone's (Harold Bloom's) list of Great Books....</span></div><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUYykqz3E9n6WZepuuTw0DOSetGrNG0PEj_cd-V3uesEwCirg5MVpNi-0nleSh0rbI69Q7CrOU5kXGmk6P0gVQvwgPOKD9_iB4-XSTfaqASc5rX6OpaTvYALVEPusensFFL1ER_w_H1pCW/s604/Vietnam+%2526+other+War+Books+Project+March+2021+008b.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><img border="0" data-original-height="604" data-original-width="421" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUYykqz3E9n6WZepuuTw0DOSetGrNG0PEj_cd-V3uesEwCirg5MVpNi-0nleSh0rbI69Q7CrOU5kXGmk6P0gVQvwgPOKD9_iB4-XSTfaqASc5rX6OpaTvYALVEPusensFFL1ER_w_H1pCW/s320/Vietnam+%2526+other+War+Books+Project+March+2021+008b.jpg" /></span></a></div><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /><br /></span><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">A kind of summary of his large work <i>Capital </i>(I read volume 1) or <i>Das Kapital</i> in German.</span></div><span style="font-size: x-large;"> </span><div><span style="font-size: x-large;"><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXTuA3Y6Rjst6uUF_XqHLMZWtfIpSlZduRmlu0XWU7vJ7EuWtB9suzdYhQCm2v4BJDQI41ZWWVG2wjqwaYfS9W7cIwLN03XWf8hsN9lpznNsFxlZBJea6bHbjBU0cs-zOLFUb1CzHb8102/s1399/Vietnam+%2526+other+War+Books+Project+March+2021+014b.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1399" data-original-width="942" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXTuA3Y6Rjst6uUF_XqHLMZWtfIpSlZduRmlu0XWU7vJ7EuWtB9suzdYhQCm2v4BJDQI41ZWWVG2wjqwaYfS9W7cIwLN03XWf8hsN9lpznNsFxlZBJea6bHbjBU0cs-zOLFUb1CzHb8102/s320/Vietnam+%2526+other+War+Books+Project+March+2021+014b.jpg" /></span></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">Much has been written re this War but it needed an extensive work by those involved. This is less of a CIA-US view. It seems to me that, de facto, the CIA etc fuel Hollywood and subtly twist the realities of the horror of this war against the Vietnamese. The US has never apologised. No President for this war or say the barbarous massacres that happened when the Philipinos tried to establish their own nation --- no President, no one has been prosecuted for crimes that the SS would have been shocked by. In fact, ex-Nazis fought in the French Foreign Legion in Vietnam. The war was, inter alia, an attempt to control or invade China. Communism was a fear as Capitalism fears that working people might get a real democracy as was seen in many places in the world, including China until after Mao's death when it slowly corrupted under Western influence. But no great reparations were paid. No soldiers generals or Presidents were tried or jailed. The enormity of the War Crimes were ignored. Calley of the My Lai massacre fame was soon released from jail. (This detailed is in Bourke). </span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"> Today NZ still supports the US invaders of Iraq and Afghanistan and has enthusiastically supported extra (and completely unnecessary & ineffectual anti-terrorist laws). Already Biden is bombing a foreign country with the arrogance of a nation that has a "right", in foreign affairs, to do anything it wants to do. Trump, as he said, started no wars, and negotiated well with Korea. Bush has never been brought to trial. Capitalist exploitation continues apace.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgp-HTmrqAPcnNc9q7l0ktm_pmgBv6ZzISSxeRfpmOl0Eeo-uH39QAv6zduSyhNlwHG3oZKw1r9B-HewuF8ZpeXjcw_8u1IWGAFhyb895dQ2kl1ytWfiIkNoCj_GvRGZtmyv5_5NVQfKgZ-/s2048/Vietnam+%2526+other+War+Books+Project+March+2021+019b.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1261" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgp-HTmrqAPcnNc9q7l0ktm_pmgBv6ZzISSxeRfpmOl0Eeo-uH39QAv6zduSyhNlwHG3oZKw1r9B-HewuF8ZpeXjcw_8u1IWGAFhyb895dQ2kl1ytWfiIkNoCj_GvRGZtmyv5_5NVQfKgZ-/w394-h640/Vietnam+%2526+other+War+Books+Project+March+2021+019b.jpg" width="394" /></span></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">Cleaver was a black activist and member with Bobby Seale and Huey Newton and others of the Black Panther Party. They had been inspired by Malcolm X whose book I read along with such as (Black Like Me -- a white man, Howard Griffin, changed his skin colour as best he could and lived for some time among black people, there is a kind of parallel book of an Israeli who "disguised" himself as a Palestinian in Israel -- both met with a lot of vilification when they published their stories) and Huey Newton's book. A link to the Black Panthers' history: <a href="https://www.history.com/topics/civil-rights-movement/black-panthers" style="text-align: justify;">Black Panthers - History, Definition & Timeline - HISTORY</a></span></div><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /> </span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEglKJKkjt_nuZbyA2iYOY43c9n81xAWDc4etKCGceGsp4a_ESLgG1U3CBqfFDppThqQczax27nARI0r-esfrdUljJyiaMIBA9qO3UVZ2bxKImIfhnBO8fDUeHpMLePOpicPKYsNbLGDLb5g/s1405/Vietnam+%2526+other+War+Books+Project+March+2021+013b.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1405" data-original-width="904" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEglKJKkjt_nuZbyA2iYOY43c9n81xAWDc4etKCGceGsp4a_ESLgG1U3CBqfFDppThqQczax27nARI0r-esfrdUljJyiaMIBA9qO3UVZ2bxKImIfhnBO8fDUeHpMLePOpicPKYsNbLGDLb5g/w413-h640/Vietnam+%2526+other+War+Books+Project+March+2021+013b.jpg" width="413" /></span></a></div><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">Another great book on modern Chinese history. Edgar Snow met Mao-tse-Tung. His talks with that great leader are fascinating. Mao's life story is also very instructive. </span></div><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br />__<span style="color: #ff00fe;">______________________________________ _________________________________________</span></span></div><div><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">If you feel I am drifting into a certain determined history, or you miss the more 'quixotic' poetic Richard, I must digress and comment that there was always a sense of <i>irreality </i>mixed with reality mixed with anger. Later I came to see the enormous complexities, or perhaps the "simplicities" of bringing about complex change. There is almost as if there were more than one of me as in my poem-prose piece 'The Richard Taylors' in which many 'personas' of myself, numbered, argue with each other. As well as what might be called, and was by Roger Fox (Scott knew him, I had met him from time to time, he was a Trotskyite; but I liked him: I was called by him a "demoralized CP unit"! When I told this to Jim "Ant" Dollimore over the phone in one of our mammoth conversations -- sometimes all day! Jim agreed, a bit satirically. But I was never really a "CP unit". Sure I supported many of their ideas in those days, but we were not hostile to other groups: I myself at one time was tempted to join the Communist Party, it was a political idea, but my mind or my ethos had a kind of religious zeal. The idea was to sacrifice one's life, to merge with the masses, to bring about great change. But I had doubts, I wasn't sure that (to simplify) Revisionism could be avoided and stated this in some debates. And indeed the Communist Party moved to supporting Albania, seeing China move toward Capitalism and a kind of Soviet dictatorship (but much good had come via the Revolutions and we will see more, their resultant is hard to gauge...</span></div><div><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"> I see that I think it was Cleaver who became a Republican and slowly the Panthers lost their force. But the general push of young radicals of all kinds did achieve an awakening and a greater awareness of world affairs. It wasn't -- angry as one can get about various issues -- quite the "fault" of individuals, and indeed these things later merged with my thinking on philosophy and art. But many of the issues remain as can be seen by the 'Black Lives Matter' campaign, the protests against environmental destruction, social inequalities and remaining inequalities throughout the world. The major powers now are not only the US and USSR and we are seeing more such as the new China. </span></div><div><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-size: x-large;">Many of the ideals and ideas we struggled for at the international level and locally are still relevant. </span></div><div><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-size: x-large;">But there was a strangeness about those days, it could be frightening but it was exiting, and always interesting. We believed in things that possibly in that level of intensity only those under 30 (Tim Shadbolt's cut off) could believe in. </span></div><div><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-size: x-large;">I will show some more books then images of Dick, Jim and myself and our travels. </span></div><div><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">Mrs Fowler died in 2014, there was a large crowd at her funeral: obviously Dick (Rewi) his sister, Barry and there were many more I recognised (some I had seen at the Shakespeare in the days I read poetry there, possibly some were students of Cecil who took on teaching jobs other teachers were wary of), Ray Gough was there. I don't know if she knew Charley Baker but he had since died. </span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">I was glad Barry, who has done a PhD involving the history of the PYM, alerted me to the fact of Cecil's demise. After she died, there was a memorial where I saw Dick for the last time. This was in 2015. I didn't know but he was suffering, I assume now, from a terminal disease. Perhaps he might have recovered. I will look at this and my connecting up with his widow later on or in another post. </span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">I was deeply fond of Dick and his death was very painful for me. In some deep way I loved him. But more on Rewi Kemp, extraordinary human being, yacht designer, angry politico, & polymath, later. <span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-size: x-large;">____________________________________________ ______________ ________________________</span></div><div><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-size: x-large;">A few more images of some books (I also had a book about Che Guevara which I lost).</span></div><div><span style="font-size: x-large;"> </span></div><div><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-size: x-large;"><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><br /></span><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxaJydOIcznSIJIa0ZR1wBakXcSsQIjUWS1EnShLChWpLB44N8U6FdR39Ifa7eahWZNWMy7DnvEzj06BiwJjQD3TJPv5XJat3ZAeHfzMfs8pHx9ygpZCmD5GZbRRK4QGLAdQ8Yakksfcg3/s1447/Vietnam+%2526+other+War+Books+Project+March+2021+001b.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1447" data-original-width="901" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxaJydOIcznSIJIa0ZR1wBakXcSsQIjUWS1EnShLChWpLB44N8U6FdR39Ifa7eahWZNWMy7DnvEzj06BiwJjQD3TJPv5XJat3ZAeHfzMfs8pHx9ygpZCmD5GZbRRK4QGLAdQ8Yakksfcg3/w398-h640/Vietnam+%2526+other+War+Books+Project+March+2021+001b.jpg" width="398" /></span></a></div><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span><p style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></p><p style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></p><p style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></p><p style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></p><p style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></p><p style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></p><p style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></p><p style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></p><p style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></p><p style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></p><p style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></p><p style="margin-bottom: 0cm; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">This was an uprising that had a potential to transform France to Socialism but the leaders failed to get a wide enough support. Much of the protest revolved around the French involvement in Algeria. But it was also a strike against Capitalism. Coca Cola factories etc were put to manufacturing Molotov cocktails. It was a dramatic event. One of the many such uprisings in French history.</span></p><p style="margin-bottom: 0cm; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">It 'failed' for similar reasons to the betrayal of Allende by US and reactionary forces which led to the </span></p><p style="margin-bottom: 0cm; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">backing of the UK and the US of Pinochet the murderous dictator by those two corrupt ex Imperialist</span></p><p style="margin-bottom: 0cm; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">states who have transferred to 'war at a distance' and economic exploitation with the corruption of local rulers or in the pseudodemocracies such as we have in NZ.</span></p><p style="margin-bottom: 0cm; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgOCgaAl2UOe3x6nN8KXk8Ikxbmv224bLZTyrhtwggMO2yiii8Ssa1Ps6vuTLiOa1-RNnLV2fgbpOqunauBNXGkLebHaiOLSER7NTEKE-4JRZxSn2SpRZYuJo2PZe0x5ZNHDvwrea1H_tsv/s1882/Vietnam+%2526+other+War+Books+Project+March+2021+020b.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1882" data-original-width="1152" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgOCgaAl2UOe3x6nN8KXk8Ikxbmv224bLZTyrhtwggMO2yiii8Ssa1Ps6vuTLiOa1-RNnLV2fgbpOqunauBNXGkLebHaiOLSER7NTEKE-4JRZxSn2SpRZYuJo2PZe0x5ZNHDvwrea1H_tsv/w245-h400/Vietnam+%2526+other+War+Books+Project+March+2021+020b.jpg" width="245" /></span></a></div><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span><p style="margin-bottom: 0cm; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">Franz Fanon's book was was also insightful. Fanon was a black activist, philosopher, sociologist and much else. </span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhY_D4cQag-bisiWkUgYI3Hr3NH4-HKKoOnEq3s9w9Zs4ntvBqs1_VrZmQ9UQ35DrME0n34jwb_QyuLwNP2KJHc59x54BiXA74Jzz0GMo3W9rNpPex9obHcgKIB32f50ixHSrgXMFr2ck6/s1321/Vietnam+%2526+other+War+Books+Project+March+2021+005b.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1321" data-original-width="895" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhY_D4cQag-bisiWkUgYI3Hr3NH4-HKKoOnEq3s9w9Zs4ntvBqs1_VrZmQ9UQ35DrME0n34jwb_QyuLwNP2KJHc59x54BiXA74Jzz0GMo3W9rNpPex9obHcgKIB32f50ixHSrgXMFr2ck6/s320/Vietnam+%2526+other+War+Books+Project+March+2021+005b.jpg" /></span></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">This and many other books are on my shelf. (I haven't read this book but it looks interesting). Most of my books these days are not on war, although I have sections on war, the Holocaust and politics, more recent wars and political events; but I have de facto a library of ~ 4000 books which include many categories from biological science, chemistry mathematics, physics to sociology, psych., history, travel, philosophy, education, law issues, art, NZ, reference, literature, and literary criticism, poetry and poetics and much else such as books about books.</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQwJPdXkz13x6x5i37GMk3S-W-mF937gkviTnLLKvnPOUeVrUr0OwFP5f0x9nDcXx8Yx0HZc1jWeJvUi-vzMyf_OszMI5NpTSs4Mqx8pGAFHmv-Ql69N1Kxa59Gr4G-VHv7s1v4oLpYsQi/s1832/Vietnam+%2526+other+War+Books+Project+March+2021+017b.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1832" data-original-width="1237" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQwJPdXkz13x6x5i37GMk3S-W-mF937gkviTnLLKvnPOUeVrUr0OwFP5f0x9nDcXx8Yx0HZc1jWeJvUi-vzMyf_OszMI5NpTSs4Mqx8pGAFHmv-Ql69N1Kxa59Gr4G-VHv7s1v4oLpYsQi/w432-h640/Vietnam+%2526+other+War+Books+Project+March+2021+017b.jpg" width="432" /></span></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">This deals with the many aspects of war. It concentrates on 'the allies' but the implication is that war crimes or indeed the avoidance of combat in a war, and even trauma not only by combatants in wars but by those involved in admin or any aspect of war. The strange, often contradictory reactions to situations in war are documented as well as such a 'messy' thing as a war can be. Some people are sexually aroused seeing people burning to death, others traumatised, some cannot bring themselves to shoot another human being. There are many aspects covered. It has no political bias. The My Lai massacre though is revealed to be only one instance of such a massacre. It is clear that, if possible, a given about human survival on this planet is an international agreement to avoid all wars. Then other issues can be dealt with. But Bourke doesn't get to that.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvgbsf8KSEjj3O-oiPj_lmYjpAgdBOolYE2nDjTCzFFgS67upRZV52HI-7jU7gGEDCR7KXbIScK9vSF663q0DTZ385Wi_XTuW4pUf1N6us6QCHnxk538DvkGXgmYwVKQETTNSa32voRsH4/s2048/Vietnam+%2526+other+War+Books+Project+March+2021+031b.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1530" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvgbsf8KSEjj3O-oiPj_lmYjpAgdBOolYE2nDjTCzFFgS67upRZV52HI-7jU7gGEDCR7KXbIScK9vSF663q0DTZ385Wi_XTuW4pUf1N6us6QCHnxk538DvkGXgmYwVKQETTNSa32voRsH4/w299-h400/Vietnam+%2526+other+War+Books+Project+March+2021+031b.jpg" width="299" /></span></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">Scott Hamilton lent me Judith Binney's earlier book on Te Kooti which I agreed was virtually a kind of epic. I gave it back before finishing it. This book looks equally interesting. I read Sinclair's <i>History of NZ</i> some books by Paul Moon on the NZ Wars and also, one of the best, a long book by Peter Maxwell <i>Frontier. Belich's </i>book on the NZ Wars was good. Also excellent is<i> The Prophet and the Policeman </i>which goes right back to the Waihi strike and then deals with Rua the Prophet. There are many books. I've also noted some books by Dick Scott.</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></div><p style="margin-bottom: 0cm; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: x-large; text-align: left;">_________________________________________________ _______________________________</span></p>
<p style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><b><span style="color: red;"> Meanwhile we were still at Otahuhu.</span>
</b>We hadn't paid any rent. One day we found a note in the letter box.
"On, [I forget the day date] a large bulldozer will be
proceeding in an West-Easterly direction -- this will lead to the
demolition of your present accommodation. Yours....." Reading
this together, we were greatly amused! I even went to see the
landlord, a pretty laid back bloke who said to not worry about any
rent. We moved out of course. Where would we go? We had decided, or
Dick had urged (I never became a 'leader' in anything really, but I
had wanted to, so nominally the new flat would be run by the
triumverite: Richard, Dick and Jim: but Dick was quite a strong leader
of people and he basically 'took over' although this didn't mean much
overall.) We decided that Ponsonby, then a working class area with a
predominantly Polynesian and Maori population, mixed with various
others including working class Europeans -- that that was the place
as according to Dick it was central to where everything was going on.
It was a good move but away from the theory of working class struggle
advocated by Mao. We moved to a house in Georgina Street we called
'The Big Pink'.
</span></p>
<p style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"> It was on a hill and on the
Ponsonby Road side of that road.
</span></p>
<p style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"> A little from Georgina Street was
College Hill. We used to walk up from there after demos etc. One
night I carried the chalk (large) I had from the Railway Workshop. I
saw sign saying “Gold Bold” in light higher up near Ponsonby
Road. This lead to a spontaneous poem that I chalked on the road then
and there. It played with the words “bold gold” of the cigarette
advert. Jim recently recalled this and I recalled it. I felt I
suppose like more recent graffiti artists. I did write poems (some
good most probably pretty bad, I cant recall), and I used to hand
them to people. They would praise them. But whether flattery or not I
took little interest. Once done that was that. As to poets, I did
want to meet R A K Mason.</span></p>
<p style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"> At various times in those days I had
an Austin A40 (Devon). In 1968, having saved money at the Freezing
Works (Hellabys where my father was the Architect -- he worked with
the Engineer -- he doesn't appear in Dick Scott's book<i> Stock in
Trade</i> a history of Hellabys meat company, but I recognise the
photo taken about the time I was there, and a number I worked
with**), I went for a tour of the NI, going first up North. There I
first stopped at Kelvin McIntosh's father's house in Totara North
where his family worked with timber. When I arrived his father or
someone said: "There's smoke coming out of the back!" I had
driven probably 100 kms with the hand brake on! This led to,
eventually, the decline of my braking system. [Typing this I am not
sure if this was the time or I went twice as we went up in about 1973
or so after my son Victor was born, in Jim Manoah's, my ex-wife's
brother's Mini, which he lent us.] Nevertheless I continued to
Kaitaia (I stayed a Kaeo where I recall seeing a very dramatic movie,
with a beautiful blond and a fire). At Kaitaia I paid $10.00 for
petrol and went for a cup of tea and so on. The garage owner came in,
much concerned, with the change. In 1968 $10 must have been the
equivalent of nearly $100 today. I continued to travel down via
Dargaville. Then after a stop at home in Auckland down to Tauranga
and back through the Uruweras and home.
</span></p>
<p style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"> Later I first broke a crankshaft,
then an axle. Before I had moved out, perhaps even before I met Dick
and Jim, I had made the acquaintance of two (Teale) brothers in the
next street to us (Coates Crescent). I used to take them and
especially Gary Teale to the PYM meetings. Gary Teale had been
badly beaten up by the police in the then notorious 6th Floor of the
Central Police Station. He hated the police intensely.
</span></p>
<p style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br />
</span></p>
<p style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"> In those days, great revolutionary
that I was, I sometimes relied on financial help from my father,
although I was always working. I worked at all kinds of labouring
jobs and in 1967 for a year or so as a Lab Tech testing road
qualities for Bitumix which was in Lunn Avenue Mt Wellington. (I used
to walk there and I mentioned that was the time I got a television
set for the first time. As well as the Vietnam War (which soon bored
me at the time) I watched Dudley Moore and Peter Cook, a long program
about Ancient Egypt, which for reasons I will explain later,
terrified me, and The Avengers, as well as a fascinating program, one
of the best things I have seen: 'The Prisoner', also a program for
some reason about painting Chinese characters. This fascinated me.
Many things like this, including a deep desire to learn how to do
lettering, led me to think that maybe my real talent lay in art. My
problem re art was a fear of 'making a move'): but I digress, I was
fairly well looked after, my father had a good job, and in fact, even
though I had got the AA to check the car before I bought in 1968 for
$100.00, and they found a huge list of things wrong with it, I still
insisted on buying the car, against my father's discouragement. But
as I was emerging it was my way of getting free of a certain
psychological dependence. I am not sure I got free of this for many
years, or ever. But in any case I would get my father or he would
just do it, to take it to Seabrook and Fowlds, who were then in
Newmarket, and serviced Hellaby's vehicles, and they 'knitted' the
crankshaft together. After this they delivered it to my house in
Panmure (where I am now, I returned in 1990). They had not put oil in
it. When the car arrived Gary Teague turned up. I told him we mustn't
start the engine for this reason. But he did. It immediately caused
the motor to seize. Mr. Munro, who lived next door, and had been an
aircraft mechanic in the war (he hurt his leg jumping off a wing so
from memory I think he had a wooden leg, he was a nice man, who even
listened to Beethoven. He worked outside with no garage and people
came from all over. He went to 'the boozer' (my father though didn't
drink) and had lots of 'mates'. He was prepared to take the engine.
Meanwhile my father had paid for this repair of my car and all the
other ones. Dad loved us all, and was 'long suffering'. The only
problem for me was a tendency by him to do too much for us. But more of this later.
</span></p>
<p style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">Somehow, in between all this, I had
the engine at 'The Big Pink'. Dick and I went out and found a another
pretty battered car, that I drove for while, probably without a WOF.
The idea was (I think this was the broken axle) to swap the parts
into my other car, I am not sure, but there was a time I had two
cars). Dick had brought his own Triumph 'Square Four' motor bike. I
had had a motor scooter, and loved the idea of getting a motor bike,
my brother Dennis did, but I never managed to buy one. Dick talked
almost endlessly about his 'square four'. This lay in the wash house
for months . It was one of Dick's many projects that was never
finished. He never reassembled his powerful motor bike and I never
got my car together. Later I bought, for $50.00, Bill Lee's old
Triumph Renown. This car was old in 1969 and was a kind of poor man's
Rolls Royce. It was also falling to pieces. But later a lot of use
took it all the way to Gisborne and back.</span></p>
<p style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><b><span style="color: #ff00fe;">In 'The Big Pink' </span></b>in Georgina Street
Dick took command. But the place was pretty crazy. We were there
until 1970. Meanwhile as well as Jim Dollimore, all kinds of people
turned up. There were two Maori brothers. One was always stoned. I
think he was the one who played Jimmy Hendrix records all day. My ex
wife, Mary Manoah, who was, I was suddenly stunned the other day to
realise, when I first met her, sixteen going on seventeen, and who,
in the true romantic tradition, had run away from home; and lived at
first at Resistance. Like many young people at that time she had
learnt about the Vietnam war and other depredations by major powers
and indeed the power structure of our "syphilisation" as
Tim Shadbolt used to call it in his brilliant orations at Albert Park
(he was a natural and charismatic orator, but he was no slouch and
more than once it was he who, us hanging back, rushed in toward the
police (e.g. a demonstration against the NZ All Black's team leaving
Rongotai Airport, where only he and not I or Frank Lane, who looked
at each other, both thinking that 'discretion was the better part of
valour, and like other failed to climb the fence and charge like Tim
into the waiting police). But it was said, and I believe it was true,
that Tim Shadbolt (who lived near Henderson so went to Rangitoto
College as had Mary, so they knew each other), had been an amateur
boxer and hardly lost a bout. But we young people had come to realise
that our parents were 'living a lie', we didn't hate them, but there
were some cases of young women 'escaping' rich or other parents.
Young men or women would be dressed 'normally' and talk in favour of
the US Actions etc, then, some days or weeks later, we would see
them, the young men with long hair, their attitude quite different.</span></p>
<p style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">Recently in my 'reading projects',
one book I found in my collection was the intriguingly named 'The
Pursuit of Loneliness' by Philip E. Slater. I thought it was about
loneliness. Later, having read about the discovery in the 15th
Century of Lucretius's book <i>De Rerum Natura, </i><span>and
having read some books about it, and learning that his 'epicurean'
philosophy, borrowed from the Greeks, influenced such as Adams and
Jefferson, who took from it the phrase: 'The pursuit of happiness'.
This Slater turned into "...of Loneliness." It sold
thousands, but I cant recall seeing that book in those days. But in
it, he analyses the protest movement and the potential changes that
would and or might come. It wasn't so far off the mark. (Joan
Didion's </span><i>Slouching Towards Bethleham </i><span>which
references Yeat's famous poem</span><i> 'The Second Coming'</i><span>
is perhaps also reflective of the times (in the US) but is a bit
cynical, nevertheless, she is a superb writer. And there were many
other books that were influential in those days. I will get to them.</span></span></p>
<p style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">But turning up at the Big Pink were
all kinds of strange young men and sometimes women. One fellow we
called 'the Droog' (he was not fool) to get accommodation, climbed in
the window, so there he was the next day! There was a young man who
was often blue of face. Others used to appear. Later, after I met my
wife, we lived together there in a room.</span></p>
<p style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"> But before that we used to go on
demos as we called them. We would often go down town to a coffee
place run by a German who tolerated all these crazy 'revolutionaries'
arguing about politics and ideas. I had decided that I was 'working
class'. One of the places we went to was The Progressive Book Shop
where I bought some interesting books. Books whose messages I stand
by to a large extent now. In those days we placed a lot of hope in
China. I considered joining the Communist Party. Mary, before she
came from Kumeu to Auckland, had sent for information about Marxism
and Socialism to the NZ Communist Party. Her and many other peoples'
concern were those of war by Imperialist nations such as the UK, the
United States and others. Other general concerns were nuclear
armament, social issues, inequalities in the world, civil rights,
racial issues throughout the world and much else. Women's issues were
taken seriously. Women's Liberation was becoming more significant in
a newer, more militant form. The proprietor of Progressive Books,
then in Darby Street, Cental Aukcland, was Len Parker, who now in his 80s I met
again, in Ellerslie. He was still positive, still believing in
"Progress" and enthusiastic about the young people who were
still, he thought, concerned about social and political issues. I had
assisted in Len's protest against Council rent increases in 1999. He
refused to pay the increase and was eventually taken out by police
coming through the roof. But even that was a kind of triumph. The
police who arrested him actually said they were impressed by his
courage.
</span></p>
<p style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">I remember talking to Len in the old
days (these were really only about 3 years -1969,70,71 - but they
seemed enormously significant years. Time when one is young passes
much more slowly, or so it seems. But these times were significant,
we were doing some good work.</span></p>
<p style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">Dick Fowler, as I knew him then, turned
out to be a polymath. A list of his interests as I can recall:</span></p>
<p style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">History and politics
including that of China and Vietnam, as well as a knowledge of</span></p>
<p align="JUSTIFY" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"> geographical and
geological history, some languages (he had studied and could speak
</span></p>
<p align="JUSTIFY" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"> some Chinese); boats
(this included yachts and in particular his main passion: cata-</span></p>
<p align="JUSTIFY" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"> marans or
trimarans), and hence boat design and innovation; railways and
railway
</span></p>
<p align="JUSTIFY" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"> gauges; motor bikes
and engineering; some poetry and he could sing well; politics</span></p>
<p align="JUSTIFY" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"> particularly radical
politics; marshall arts; film and photography - (he had a cine <span style="text-align: left;">camera); </span></span></p><p align="JUSTIFY" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="font-size: x-large; text-align: left;">horse
racing; other.</span></p>
<p align="JUSTIFY" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br />
</span></p>
<p align="JUSTIFY" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><b> Dick had a great sense
of humour but could get angry at perceived wrongs, as we all did.</b> </span></p><p align="JUSTIFY" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">We w<span style="text-align: left;">ere all very idealistic
then. Born mostly in the 50s, before television or computers,
calculators, and when my family had a radio only with three stations.
Television, tested by a childhood friend's father (Les Hunter, father
of Peter Hunter who was then just down the road), television was
introduced in 1960. Our family didn't get one. As I said, I got one
in 1967. Television seemed a strange thing. Meanwhile we watched as
the Russians went into orbit, sending dogs and once a monkey I think,
and photographing the 'dark side of the moon' -- all this was very
exciting. Later in 1969 I didn't "watch" but listened to
the actual landing on the moon. At that time I was in the Railway
Workshops, Charlie Baker, the Communist ex-British Army Seargant, who
had fought in the war and was stationed in India at one stage (where
he himself was given 'search and destroy' orders), refused to watch.
He broke down in tears. The useless landing on a dead planet obscured
the terrible actions of Calley who was soon released from prison. His
massacre of men women and children was considered, by many, to be
"patriotic". According to Joanna Burke's </span><i style="text-align: left;">An Illustrated
History of Killing</i><span style="text-align: left;"> the massacres and the rape then brutal murder
of children and women and general killing of people continued almost
day after day, as did the the dropping of napalm. This is noted by
Slater in his book, which refers to </span><i style="text-align: left;">Air War - Vietnam </i><span style="text-align: left;">by Frank Harvey.</span></span></p>
<p align="JUSTIFY" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="font-size: x-large; text-align: left;"><b>Burke doesn't focus only
on Vietnam,</b> she does limit her survey to most of the "allied"
wars, but it is shown the general barbarity of wars and how, for
example, many combatants are actually sexually aroused at the sight of
people burning to death. But her book is general, and
contradictorily, many people go through wars without being able to
fire a shot at another human. One general result of participation in
any war, is severe psychological torment (glibly called 'shell
shock'): and this happens even to people in administration well back
from the actual war zone. The implication is that war, modern war
perhaps in particular (but perhaps older wars were more savage and
even more traumatic): these wars are deeply destructive of the
humanness of a person and involve, inevitably, a terrible toll, loss
of life as well as deep psychological trauma, and perhaps a general
'dehumanization' as some get used to killing.</span></p>
<p align="JUSTIFY" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="font-size: x-large; text-align: left;">I listened, fascinated to the moon landing in 1969 at the Railway workshops, (we wondered if the space module might sink into some kind of strange sand) to the radio
reports. But for me the space age had ended. I lost all my previous
interest in astronomy. Yes I retained some interest, but nowadays I
see all such "explorations" as futile. If humans cannot
live on this earth in peace, and also cannot stop destroying the
natural environment, there is no hope. I have come a long way. But
whatever, I have no interest in 'explorations', particularly of
space. Nor do I really value "great people", prodigies,
celebrities, Royalty, "leaders", Big Money business people.
If I have learnt anything it is that all humans have a place, a
value. Geniuses, for me, do not exist. Geniuses make atomic bombs and
napalm etc etc. Genius leads to death of others who are considered
less important. Our hope is only in a general consensus that ignores
nations, avoids wars etc.</span></p>
<p align="JUSTIFY" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br />
</span></p>
<p align="JUSTIFY" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">But at the time the moon
landing was exciting indeed. But I remember Charlie Baker (who had
trained as a carpenter and worked in what was called 'The Wood Wagon'
where I was nominally a "lifter". I and others, would
disconnect the buffers and yoke from carriages, then a crane (built
into the building) would lift bent buffers up to be taken to the
Blacksmiths, heated, and straightened by hydraulic or pneumatic
hammers. We did other things.
</span></p>
<p align="JUSTIFY" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br />
</span></p>
<p align="JUSTIFY" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><b>Dick was meant to work
there (the Railway Workshops) at one stage, but he never turned up</b>. In all the time I worked
there and at the freezing works, and a wheat store in down town (from
Parnell), and other places, I never knew Dick to work. Dick would
wake me by placing his hand on my shoulder and pushing it slowly. I also had an
alarm clock. Dick was a basically gentle being with a "fiery
streak". He and his family had come from England. In England he
had learned to sail P-Class Yachts (he taught himself from a book).
One day we: a young Maori fellow, Mary, Dick and myself (there may
have been one other, not sure) decided to hire a yacht. It was the
only time I did anything like this. We all contributed $10 I think it
was, and I think $100 gave us the use of the yacht. All of us relied
on Dick's knowledge of sailing. As we went, we learnt. He showed us
how to tie the sails around the side hooks, and we knew how to tack.
Did we have a radio, safety jackets etc? No, we had nothing! And all
of us except Dick knew nothing about boats and sailing. But we
learnt. We sailed off from (one of the bays, Mission Bay or some
other) into the Waitemata on a <span style="text-align: left;">pleasant day. We headed
out and enjoyed things. But then the wind got up, we turned into the
Hauraki Gulf, then we noticed that the wind was getting stronger and
stronger. Dick was confident (he would have made a great sea captain
in say WWII), he organised shifts, he said we had to use our alarm
clock, and if the wind was pushing the boat toward the shore, we
would wake the others. This worked, well, like clockwork. We got
through the night. At day break we started to tack our way out of the
gulf. We made quite good progress (but we had lost a day and were
overdue, unknown to us the yacht had been reported missing in heavy
weather, and our friend Frank had been contacted by police etc, I
think he wasn't sure we were at sea, but we at least must have signed
our names on the lease contract). We made progress, but the Maori
fellow was sick (I didn't feel too bad but I have experienced sea
sickness since); and Dick fired up the engine. We moved along a bit
faster trying to zig zag (we had been tacking) back to out starting
point: but then the engine failed. We were now struggling, perhaps
not in danger, but now we could only tack. We did a good job. (I
don't know about Dick, but I wasn't am still not, a very good
swimmer, and I don't know about the others). We zag and zigged back
to our berth. I forget what was said. Later Frank told us that the
air sea rescue had nearly been called out. I have never been in a
yacht or sailed a boat since (except a flat bottom floundering with
another mate, but that is another story). It is not that I was
terrified. I cant recall that. I think we were all too busy. We were
concerned. It is just that I didn't really get into sailing. Perhaps
I missed some great experiences thus. Nevertheless Dick maintained
his fascination with catamarans etc and later designed a new version
of a boat. When he showed me that, it was some years later, he was
living in Mangere, I took my son who was interested in computers, or
at least at that time in Amiga computers which I think Dick was
using. And he had a movie of his boat, which was quite impressive.</span></span></p>
<p align="JUSTIFY" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br />
</span></p><p align="JUSTIFY" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"> </span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQsXQ7nZxKXh8fyUI-NBIVtq5AysoKNTjK37H2QmJjGF-z08zBXxTmHwVAXEDZHYQXPLfsbGrfBqkGInX2GD6MdBG8Ka-j89fqwLLu-2owoBTCNdnpZFnMdcR5JzmeNPBkXMM1-CSstTcy/s282/Catamaran+--+June+2021.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><img border="0" data-original-height="179" data-original-width="282" height="406" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQsXQ7nZxKXh8fyUI-NBIVtq5AysoKNTjK37H2QmJjGF-z08zBXxTmHwVAXEDZHYQXPLfsbGrfBqkGInX2GD6MdBG8Ka-j89fqwLLu-2owoBTCNdnpZFnMdcR5JzmeNPBkXMM1-CSstTcy/w640-h406/Catamaran+--+June+2021.jpg" width="640" /></span></a></div><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span><p></p><p align="JUSTIFY" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> Yachts ships and boats of all kinds fascinated Rewi but Catamarans </span></span></p><p align="JUSTIFY" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span>were </span><span style="text-align: left;">his great interest if not love. </span></span></p><p align="JUSTIFY" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></p>
<p align="JUSTIFY" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">I'm not sure exactly when
Mary joined us at 'The Big Pink' but Dick, myself, and Jim Dollimore
first moved in. Also (Kevin?) Ryan (from whom, some years later, I
bought a MIII Zepher when I was then living in South Auckland). Ryan
worked with me at Hellabies. I was in the Offal Department. I had
worked a few seasons. Now I was returning, not as the good worker,
but as a "radical", I even spoke to workers about the
Vietnam war, showing pictures of people terribly maimed by that war.
I think I persauded some to oppose the war. Previously in early 1969
I had written a 'purple prose' description of my experience at the
Freezing Works (my course in English was useful, even though I failed
the exams as I had read a lot). I sent it to Mate magazine. They were
interested (the editor was Tom McWilliams) and I was asked to turn it
into a story. My interest at the time was poetry, I had dreamed of
writing a novel or a story, but I felt I didn't have enough
experience of people (I was very retiring before 1967, and my social
life was virtually zero, I lived almost as a hermit, often not even
answering the door if someone knocked; I spent my time mostly at home
reading or studying and dreaming: I had had no girlfriend, no deep
experience of life and also I felt I simply couldn't think of
anything to write about. But I had a natural ability with words:
honed by many hours of reading many kinds of books. I changed the
submission into a story. I was very excited. The first thing I had
ever submitted, was accepted! My mother typed up my story (I owe a
lot to my parents and indeed to my long-suffering mother, Joy Taylor,
nee Miller (her mother was a Gray, born in India)). The story 'The
Message' was published in Mate 18 in 1970. After that I sent some
poems but they were rejected. I should have persisted. But at that
time, 1969, I was re-evaluating my life, and what I should do with
it. Logically but strangely for me I decided that politics, involved
everything. (All this goes back to 1967 and the beginning of my
obssession with death after or during a severe nervous breakdown when
I was 19). I also started to get paranoid that people would read my
poems (some were not very good I suppose, I recall scraps of some),
and I destroyed all of them. I recall tearing the paper into small
pieces. No one was going to read these my most intimate thoughts.
Exactly why I did this I cant really ascertain or remember. I wasn't
angry. Perhaps already I was moving 'toward politics'. I felt that
all one could do, aknowledging the awful, devastating, anihilating
nature of Death, was to live as best as one could, and build a better
world. The irony of that was that I was not a social being as such. I
had spent years dreaming of becoming a new Hitler, who in some of my
'dreams' I imagined as too weak...but even in those days, at school
we read Wilfred Owen's poems of the horrors of WWI and we read Ann
Frank's diary. A book and if a film, a story that deeply disturbed
me.</span></p>
<p align="JUSTIFY" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br />
</span></p>
<p align="JUSTIFY" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">In any case, I had read
<i>The Rape of Vietnam</i> and other books by now was starting to
read Marxism, a book about Socialism and Communism, <i>The Road to
the Finland Station</i> by Edmund Wilson, Franz Fanon's <i>Wretched
of the Earth. </i><span style="font-style: normal;">I read variously
of political uprisings and also a lot of polemic, as well as books by
Lenin, and </span><i>The Great Road: the Life and Times of Chu Teh</i><span style="font-style: normal;">
which as a superb book written by a great revolutionary woman. I also
read Mao tse Tung's Red Book and a story of his life. I didn't read
much literature but we did read a literature and poetry series called
....... I did myself write poetry in those years, but the poems I
would just hand to people to read. I cant recall anything about them.
People said they were good. I recall being pleased, but not excited. </span>
</span></p>
<p align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br />
</span></p>
<p align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">Meanwhile
at 'The Big Pink' (Georgina Street Ponsonby), we never paid any rent!
Dick Fowler had a huge knowlege of things. He and I, feeling a
'revolutionary' urgency, would write out long lists of things to be
done. We meant well, Dick did also. But mostly he did nothing of what
we proposed. We did go to various meetings, the PYM meetings, and one
day I met with Pat Hohepa, proposing to him that the (radical Maori
group, not, I think, the Black Panthers, as from memory they were
Polynesian or Samoan and Tongan rather than Maori: in any case in
discussing that Hohepa's group join with the PYM he said, to the
effect, that when things 'got going', Europeans could well, in fear
or other reasons, abandon them. I had been thinking that this was an
issue. My thoughts were that racism was still strong and to unite
would be difficult. Already the idea of a United Front existed. This
would or could consist of people of many politial "levels"
or "positions", and bring in diverse people of different
viewpoints into a common struggle. I had started to learn some Maori
and Samoan at the WEA in Ponsonby Road. I learnt quite a lot of
phrases and words. I still have the books I used. We went out to
Otahuhu to meet with a gang member who was Samoan. Dick's comment
later that my ability to say hullo and some other things in Samoan
wasn't a lot of use there (but the idea to learn languages was good
in principle). We tried to convince the young man that rather than
being a more or less racially isolated gang, uniting with an
organization such as the PYM would mean a more productive group with
more power against the State. He was interested but it was not
something, I think, he could relate to.
</span></p>
<p align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">________________________________ ______________________________ ___________________</span></p><p align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="color: red; font-size: x-large;"><b>Photographs of people and scenes in the 60s/70s in Auckland and on our walks:</b> </span></p><p align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRopGKm0ZN3jTQFwiR9wyNMhBp720yIbppetZIkSbw3IfFCgHxJWmxWKB7QUCjTAnKCgwLdEWc_lva8uebhh-epOKPRepyvL51wH-scZUDU7MKxtbQtEtwIb7xh2hTHxMAslYiLwQ6t91E/s2048/Personal+-+Mrs+Fowler+the+70s+Dick+Jim+Me+etc+028b.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1401" data-original-width="2048" height="438" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRopGKm0ZN3jTQFwiR9wyNMhBp720yIbppetZIkSbw3IfFCgHxJWmxWKB7QUCjTAnKCgwLdEWc_lva8uebhh-epOKPRepyvL51wH-scZUDU7MKxtbQtEtwIb7xh2hTHxMAslYiLwQ6t91E/w640-h438/Personal+-+Mrs+Fowler+the+70s+Dick+Jim+Me+etc+028b.jpg" width="640" /></span></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">The Civic Theatre -- inside was or is? a peculiar almost beautiful scene of lions with lighted</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">eyes and I took some photos of it, letting them blur. I haven't processed those two. The </span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">movie Vanishing Point was on, it was then a favourite of mine as was Serpico. I watched</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">that a number of times. There was a memorable time we Dick (Rewi), the Ant, myself and Len Parker, who ran the Progressive Book shop in Derby street, a place that became a focus -- we all watched</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">War and Peace. Len muttered about its 'bourgeois' nature. True I said but it shows aspects of history</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">and the world. (To this day I haven't read the original book). Another time we went to see 'Tora! Tora! Tora!' about the Japanese attack on Pearl Harbour. Knowing the terrible destruction of Vietnam, seeing</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">the ships go down and US soldiers getting chopped down by the daring Japanese pilots caused us to cheer extatically each time a US ship exploded or the Japs scored a good hit....It is surprising we weren't thrown out of the theatre. I forget, but think it was also at the Civic.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"> </span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">Street Scene Quay Street at night when the trains from the Wharfs used to go down</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">that road to the Railway yards near Parnell. Looking toward the Ferry Building.</span></div><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVzwgGl61b_USanN7xWloKxV0f6A2jjxM0d2NR1rok9yZqpDY0ugrJIssLSNzsaSY6SQfVixJsk9o26BrTP20eLzwoen1AVhEsqxqHTdmRS4dSZ3XMz_nsMY_Lu0s3JCkwFnZu85XdHHJ0/s2048/Personal+-+Mrs+Fowler+the+70s+Dick+Jim+Me+etc+019b.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1761" data-original-width="2048" height="344" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVzwgGl61b_USanN7xWloKxV0f6A2jjxM0d2NR1rok9yZqpDY0ugrJIssLSNzsaSY6SQfVixJsk9o26BrTP20eLzwoen1AVhEsqxqHTdmRS4dSZ3XMz_nsMY_Lu0s3JCkwFnZu85XdHHJ0/w400-h344/Personal+-+Mrs+Fowler+the+70s+Dick+Jim+Me+etc+019b.jpg" width="400" /></span></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></div><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgeM_oXGX6s_CqTIZjP3kUIfO8Umj65f6tEX5L5x8jBPdOWlUwv5NrRfT9X0RS3cUaPKFssch6ms0XIEulhs2vXxg5bmWEUaorTMBNwF4FtEUAsjGoWAHsaax14PufY0p8gF2e1yfJn5X3W/s2048/Personal+-+Mrs+Fowler+the+70s+Dick+Jim+Me+etc+019d.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1487" data-original-width="2048" height="464" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgeM_oXGX6s_CqTIZjP3kUIfO8Umj65f6tEX5L5x8jBPdOWlUwv5NrRfT9X0RS3cUaPKFssch6ms0XIEulhs2vXxg5bmWEUaorTMBNwF4FtEUAsjGoWAHsaax14PufY0p8gF2e1yfJn5X3W/w640-h464/Personal+-+Mrs+Fowler+the+70s+Dick+Jim+Me+etc+019d.jpg" width="640" /></span></a></div><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtrDhPNXyb55LvLDSjEVtzsuvYcjqu-l3r-F3S7nXTaAcrEeC-etPmGy11RLfvkFS77d4tXusMkElBQ19enyRIejSZli-Ey0n7BZXGnHlPHB1Ab1bIi3ecdPOFwi6mRIKy4jhyphenhyphen4QSRc0de/s2048/Personal+-+Mrs+Fowler+the+70s+Dick+Jim+Me+etc+101b.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1465" data-original-width="2048" height="286" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtrDhPNXyb55LvLDSjEVtzsuvYcjqu-l3r-F3S7nXTaAcrEeC-etPmGy11RLfvkFS77d4tXusMkElBQ19enyRIejSZli-Ey0n7BZXGnHlPHB1Ab1bIi3ecdPOFwi6mRIKy4jhyphenhyphen4QSRc0de/w400-h286/Personal+-+Mrs+Fowler+the+70s+Dick+Jim+Me+etc+101b.jpg" width="400" /></span></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">Children watching us on one of our walks. </span></div><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span><p align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjaPIlIUKJEmkwl4DFa0PFRAIm318O77vYulHln5tMV6Ko6hkIDSzCvICWlCklnrh99d2LlCMtCf5XMEbFVDyq-WWPrKPM2USMFPj2aShXMJyWTLfVSiaSqFhA_Sp2w-1SwTSU9hg_2exs5/s2048/Personal+-+Mrs+Fowler+the+70s+Dick+Jim+Me+etc+055b.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1419" data-original-width="2048" height="278" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjaPIlIUKJEmkwl4DFa0PFRAIm318O77vYulHln5tMV6Ko6hkIDSzCvICWlCklnrh99d2LlCMtCf5XMEbFVDyq-WWPrKPM2USMFPj2aShXMJyWTLfVSiaSqFhA_Sp2w-1SwTSU9hg_2exs5/w400-h278/Personal+-+Mrs+Fowler+the+70s+Dick+Jim+Me+etc+055b.jpg" width="400" /></span></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">This fellow was a PYM fellow taveller he got excited by the idea of love</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">and went around shedding good will, shaking hands etc. I think his</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">name was Rusty. I followed him with my Pentax.</span></div><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgWvKBVS71OcE6MLnCanBQ1bxLHtw80lACUShIfGI98pT0-NpZK2woBuDh4jZ40Tjp79e_dqZLh18iDrzVIV5cv8dj8UOUaWYRyNezdVSjMTzmih1-x6rB1hK5kH1w776sw6tuuUst7yw76/s2048/Personal+-+Mrs+Fowler+the+70s+Dick+Jim+Me+etc+073b.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1405" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgWvKBVS71OcE6MLnCanBQ1bxLHtw80lACUShIfGI98pT0-NpZK2woBuDh4jZ40Tjp79e_dqZLh18iDrzVIV5cv8dj8UOUaWYRyNezdVSjMTzmih1-x6rB1hK5kH1w776sw6tuuUst7yw76/s320/Personal+-+Mrs+Fowler+the+70s+Dick+Jim+Me+etc+073b.jpg" /></span></a></div><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-tBCoJn7SY61d8Kg_h_jpjSXjO4TrolFhJ64a4sJ_nXAczxNIzHnc6nvjdxho3VirRUD0W1H7LOiBhG7EHrSv_a2QcHgqrviyNeCO_W99P8vmWYwFzoYBJWkGfYZiFVL0e5wadsLm3ATT/s2048/Personal+-+Mrs+Fowler+the+70s+Dick+Jim+Me+etc+074e.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-tBCoJn7SY61d8Kg_h_jpjSXjO4TrolFhJ64a4sJ_nXAczxNIzHnc6nvjdxho3VirRUD0W1H7LOiBhG7EHrSv_a2QcHgqrviyNeCO_W99P8vmWYwFzoYBJWkGfYZiFVL0e5wadsLm3ATT/w640-h480/Personal+-+Mrs+Fowler+the+70s+Dick+Jim+Me+etc+074e.jpg" width="640" /></span></a></div><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span><p align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">Rewi Kemp -- reacing out. Posed of course. About this times Rewi (Dick) had asked me why I didn't photograph more people. I took his point and took more photographs of people. We were also, in Auckland getting photographed by Marti Friedlander at various places. I didn't know her, but found out about her years later. I will put some of those on a re-do of this post. I also took shots of similar scenes but her shots are much better. I am not here interested in 'famous people'. It is the people I wanted to photograph. </span></p><p align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></p><p align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><span style="color: #ffe599;"> <span style="background-color: #ffe599;"><span> </span></span></span><span style="font-family: courier;"><u><span style="background-color: #ffe599;"> <span style="color: #2b00fe;">The Making of the Wellesly Street Connection to the Grafton Under Pass</span><span style="color: #04ff00;"> </span></span></u></span></span></p><p align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">(As children our whole family went for great and lovely walks in the bush under the Grafton Bridge where "Progress" has now put a motorway. I got these shots using 1000th of a second. Then I photographed some Maori workmen.)</span></p><p align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></p><p align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQJ7fnb4mV64GLOWccl9zERdu1RmARUAXuWfivZ6Djz8GLii9IIu3_jQVkDSsRrfSA7Y2FVglVSX-JhQYsGBgs-szGZYagN_EZlePbyM7uFzJ4LRUuQk1RZtnkOBEf0DXF7dpTDADOpjXq/s2048/Personal+-+Mrs+Fowler+the+70s+Dick+Jim+Me+etc+102b.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1402" data-original-width="2048" height="274" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQJ7fnb4mV64GLOWccl9zERdu1RmARUAXuWfivZ6Djz8GLii9IIu3_jQVkDSsRrfSA7Y2FVglVSX-JhQYsGBgs-szGZYagN_EZlePbyM7uFzJ4LRUuQk1RZtnkOBEf0DXF7dpTDADOpjXq/w400-h274/Personal+-+Mrs+Fowler+the+70s+Dick+Jim+Me+etc+102b.jpg" width="400" /></span></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></div><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiixCkVuQxIyfxxguhgmUpYZp6LBXRCFpJd3-mXjve0FClyOdqaxCrs_f8RZBbR1gTMs523ZmTrFl4IWlE3HkIfyy7zKrw0cEMN68_L1rnjcLCquXeOxiiRR85DTX2ySWi9ahz6kGe2htUr/s2048/Personal+-+Mrs+Fowler+the+70s+Dick+Jim+Me+etc+103b.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1410" data-original-width="2048" height="275" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiixCkVuQxIyfxxguhgmUpYZp6LBXRCFpJd3-mXjve0FClyOdqaxCrs_f8RZBbR1gTMs523ZmTrFl4IWlE3HkIfyy7zKrw0cEMN68_L1rnjcLCquXeOxiiRR85DTX2ySWi9ahz6kGe2htUr/w400-h275/Personal+-+Mrs+Fowler+the+70s+Dick+Jim+Me+etc+103b.jpg" width="400" /></span></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></div><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEibfjG1TCEf320rnU-gFtqMzA2lp81FcJvCUEsNq5XTLn3qlt9KEPP3p2hQzsvTDc_xXbvR6z9hdAbtjoorxhnLJ6Z88kTIdq8ZvkxauEZDSKPF1pX_OZX89le6qHOyar12v18_Jfb8PuvZ/s2048/Personal+-+Mrs+Fowler+the+70s+Dick+Jim+Me+etc+104b.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1375" data-original-width="2048" height="430" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEibfjG1TCEf320rnU-gFtqMzA2lp81FcJvCUEsNq5XTLn3qlt9KEPP3p2hQzsvTDc_xXbvR6z9hdAbtjoorxhnLJ6Z88kTIdq8ZvkxauEZDSKPF1pX_OZX89le6qHOyar12v18_Jfb8PuvZ/w640-h430/Personal+-+Mrs+Fowler+the+70s+Dick+Jim+Me+etc+104b.jpg" width="640" /></span></a></div><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /> </span><p></p><p align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"> <span> <span style="font-family: helvetica;"> D e s t r u c t i o n = P r o g r e s s</span></span><br /></span></p><p align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></span></p><p align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></span></p><p align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: x-large;"> ______________________ __________________________ </span></span></p><p align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></p><p align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"> </span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_EEQMl76orrPCgI-4z8mFOhlgy00Ajz92XtvSz4yGnk94DcglbmVZLfoOBZaT0Gcf698zWrx4ZP4IMIjtbUzq2u7PhUvYiR0HsPfJYiNP-N0lq0aNxPh9XgvdAM2SzfhJj5eo3Kij21ta/s2048/Personal+-+Mrs+Fowler+the+70s+Dick+Jim+Me+etc+106b.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_EEQMl76orrPCgI-4z8mFOhlgy00Ajz92XtvSz4yGnk94DcglbmVZLfoOBZaT0Gcf698zWrx4ZP4IMIjtbUzq2u7PhUvYiR0HsPfJYiNP-N0lq0aNxPh9XgvdAM2SzfhJj5eo3Kij21ta/w640-h480/Personal+-+Mrs+Fowler+the+70s+Dick+Jim+Me+etc+106b.jpg" width="640" /></span></a></div><p align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></p><p align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhHoJZwR1wRldAY_KsMPDAzriGsGEDJGQ1eSs3qDDy1QjkBaRCW2z4R0zMzOHArt1QegkGNgL2GywBuGjO2rrZEsgV5imLgdD1AuzVZjQ0h0V-A2aDu4eHVGwiIQ-muqPKHIUpDIzD4vSKA/s2048/Personal+-+Mrs+Fowler+the+70s+Dick+Jim+Me+etc+105b.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1419" data-original-width="2048" height="278" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhHoJZwR1wRldAY_KsMPDAzriGsGEDJGQ1eSs3qDDy1QjkBaRCW2z4R0zMzOHArt1QegkGNgL2GywBuGjO2rrZEsgV5imLgdD1AuzVZjQ0h0V-A2aDu4eHVGwiIQ-muqPKHIUpDIzD4vSKA/w400-h278/Personal+-+Mrs+Fowler+the+70s+Dick+Jim+Me+etc+105b.jpg" width="400" /></span></a></div><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /> </span><p></p><p align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></p><p align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></p><p align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></p><p align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></p><p align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></p><p align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></p><p align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></p><p align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"> W O R K E R S </span></p><p align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></p><p align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">______________________________________________ __________________________________</span></p><p align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></p><p align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></p><p align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></p><p align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="font-size: x-large; text-align: left;">Perhaps this was one of those things 'to do' that we crossed off. We
got to Otahuhu, talked it over, something was done at least. I was
trying as others were for a 'united front'. A lot of exciting events
happened in those days. To me the protests were among the most
exciting. From the Railway Workshops, I would often get a ride into
town with ..... and I would wear my "worker's overalls" and
march. Students would join us, and on Capping Day many floats had
barbed wire and evidence or war atrocities etc. Most dramatic of all
was the Agnew Demonstration, which has been down played in importance
but, in terms of the protest movement, it was a turning point, along
with more and more realist images on television (although we hardly
saw any of those as we didn't have a TV (for a short while we had one
I think at the Big Pink). I will show images of myself at the Ivan
Agnew protest. Agnew was Nixon's Vice President. It was said that
Nixon feared him. The American War -- called by some The Vietnam War,
was a terrible, futile war. More TNT amount of bombs were dropped on
Vietnam in a day on average that were dropped in the whole of WWII.
Napalm was dropped, men women and children were regularly either
raped and killed or just killed. They were often immolated or killed
in terrible ways. The US actually engaged in very little actual "War"
or fighting. Mostly they were flown into the bush by helicopters, or
attacked villagers, or aircraft destroyed hospitals or anything the
US Air Force could hit. Day after day the bombing continued.
Defoliants were dropped. The war was illegal. It had never been
declared. It was a continuation of British and Japanese Imperialism.
Like the US invasions of Korea, and earlier Cuba and such as the
Phillipines, and the consequent masssacres, again of men women and
children or anyone who got in the way, there when the people in that
country tried to set up a Government: the Vietnam War, The American
War, was one of the most terrible genocidal wars in history. It was a
culmination and almost but not quite, the end of Western Imperialism.
The US still have invaded Iraq, Afghanistan. They and their allies
have murdered millions of innocent people in countries throughout the
war since 1900. But even in the 60s they were losing ground to the
enormous power of China. Vietnam was backed by Soviet Advisers. In
the end the Vietnamese defeated the French, the Japanese, and the
United States. As Mao-tse-Tung predicted all the Imperialist and
fascist wars failed. However the various powers continue to blunder
along similar trails. The Allies of the various "predator
states" (almost all significant nations with a military and a
strong economy so this means obviously Russia, India and China as
well as even NZ etc); these allies are not generally interested in
the welfare of the people of those states or in "freedom"
or "democracy", these things are banded about as they
exploit various people and nations ad infinitum.</span></p>
<p align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br />
</span></p>
<p align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">When
I purchased a camera, Dick taught me a lot about photography. He
himself seemed to have a sense of what was a good photograph. I was
photographing things – sometimes machinery or interesting objects.
He asked why I didn't photograph people more. I carried my camera a
lot and used to meet up with “Ruffo” who suggested at one stage I
go meet R A K Mason. My father had known Mason before WWII and once
brought back a book of his poems.</span></p>
<p align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">I
read these over and over. As a teenager I read everything. And Mason
was someone who interested me. But I, for some reason, felt averse to
meeting him. Ruffo and I photographed each other. I had that photo of
Ruffo (and myself?) but it has disappeared.
</span></p>
<p align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhBKZCHGWTQNMWFEuGhQvsyA3HtXILg3ddcdvdP1YC5mZReY45uK4l6_MS9Tno0d6xLdWiBUKM4HKWnovTXP8zQEE685phWGe3TphwSWmkKj1ixmDRT_H9kQIqSDaQNa7sCOlw-I0HxNvPt71JpM5BowXQbKZfi0JHVPZ7f9WFupmNHhF7OCqipselJYQ=s259" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="259" data-original-width="195" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhBKZCHGWTQNMWFEuGhQvsyA3HtXILg3ddcdvdP1YC5mZReY45uK4l6_MS9Tno0d6xLdWiBUKM4HKWnovTXP8zQEE685phWGe3TphwSWmkKj1ixmDRT_H9kQIqSDaQNa7sCOlw-I0HxNvPt71JpM5BowXQbKZfi0JHVPZ7f9WFupmNHhF7OCqipselJYQ=w301-h400" width="301" /></a></span></div><span style="font-size: x-large;"> Mason -- a classics scholar, a Marxist, political activist and one of NZ 's greatest poets. My father knew him and I took the book and read it obsesssively, over a nd otver. References from it are "coded into" my own poetry.<br /><br />
</span><p></p>
<p align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">Dick
also had dreams of making a movie. I was then, no good at thinking of
ideas, or plots. I had some vague ideas for a movie but couldn't make
any sense of it. Dick talked to us of the early film maker Rudel
Haywood.
</span></p>
<p align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br />
</span></p>
<p align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">Around
this time we met Marcus. He was one of the many mysterious
characters. Wore a kind
</span></p>
<p align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">of
robe, and once accompanied us on a trip down towards Tauranga. Before
that he had been cohabiting with a woman they called “grandma”
but she was only 36 or so. One night under the light by the old
library in Wellesley Street, Marcus and I talked for hours. What
about I cant tell. In those days the police would patrol on foot. The
bell still rang in the clock there. Each time it rang we made to go
off, then talk began again. Probably abour revolution, the meaning of
life etc. Marcus was a kind of 'guru' figure, a semi-hippy. He could
have been a police agent. Who knows.
</span></p>
<p align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">__________________________________________ ________________________________________</span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTS77KkpaxQeEHVQj54APhKX_AP7BE5MHLGCLeWVhVCITqz0JO3y-HrXUx9xDRlDtAROjzHYuCwZgcDOQlbKEbzPX5T7BfEYajyo_vzJ81SPsZ5UY9gKnrx2QdaHT2ssXE5ZTGxyiXL7el/s2048/Personal+-+Mrs+Fowler+the+70s+Dick+Jim+Me+etc+107b.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1416" data-original-width="2048" height="276" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTS77KkpaxQeEHVQj54APhKX_AP7BE5MHLGCLeWVhVCITqz0JO3y-HrXUx9xDRlDtAROjzHYuCwZgcDOQlbKEbzPX5T7BfEYajyo_vzJ81SPsZ5UY9gKnrx2QdaHT2ssXE5ZTGxyiXL7el/w400-h276/Personal+-+Mrs+Fowler+the+70s+Dick+Jim+Me+etc+107b.jpg" width="400" /></span></a></div><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhn_c_JPcJI6B5tK8S1uxFdSmO7HXC3CDEX_M-ISUOAefvY-Pgv1ry97TDZyf8Zn_z9nck-TGpFGlEhliO4IIyTD3kCBVl0TG3xS-fKmK4hPW5oucofeuux7OD0s2FarIWWCF8PANe6F3Ym/s2048/Personal+-+Mrs+Fowler+the+70s+Dick+Jim+Me+etc+108b.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1408" data-original-width="2048" height="275" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhn_c_JPcJI6B5tK8S1uxFdSmO7HXC3CDEX_M-ISUOAefvY-Pgv1ry97TDZyf8Zn_z9nck-TGpFGlEhliO4IIyTD3kCBVl0TG3xS-fKmK4hPW5oucofeuux7OD0s2FarIWWCF8PANe6F3Ym/w400-h275/Personal+-+Mrs+Fowler+the+70s+Dick+Jim+Me+etc+108b.jpg" width="400" /></span></a></div><div><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></div><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi89hAD95SeJ3AnKEekGwBRMlEpExEwsb0BUpDSxfLrndG0hE5rYxbrgCVBcF5y-xwq03sC-NiweyAh3l3XnpGxbvHAtyEx5OaCvIv-ZYRbUZ3NgMtpKKnZZCoCN3WTV4TZ8qkj58EOGmz8/s2048/Personal+-+Mrs+Fowler+the+70s+Dick+Jim+Me+etc+109b.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1454" data-original-width="2048" height="454" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi89hAD95SeJ3AnKEekGwBRMlEpExEwsb0BUpDSxfLrndG0hE5rYxbrgCVBcF5y-xwq03sC-NiweyAh3l3XnpGxbvHAtyEx5OaCvIv-ZYRbUZ3NgMtpKKnZZCoCN3WTV4TZ8qkj58EOGmz8/w640-h454/Personal+-+Mrs+Fowler+the+70s+Dick+Jim+Me+etc+109b.jpg" width="640" /></span></a></div><div><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-size: x-large;">A beautiful old house in Ponsonby. </span></div><div><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></div><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpPl3mFVvI9_Zn5g-y8PNEtcZuhF2r8WmuV_R_wqXsGiyfxtzHI9yKDVEaSXjwSzTf6F12JhmCkXEqMx1UisEVIMfy1UMwQummLkze17dgDNsjAMs9LoZQ759B6NLS42xoMCpDiCpmv8T1/s2048/Personal+-+Mrs+Fowler+the+70s+Dick+Jim+Me+etc+110b.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpPl3mFVvI9_Zn5g-y8PNEtcZuhF2r8WmuV_R_wqXsGiyfxtzHI9yKDVEaSXjwSzTf6F12JhmCkXEqMx1UisEVIMfy1UMwQummLkze17dgDNsjAMs9LoZQ759B6NLS42xoMCpDiCpmv8T1/w640-h480/Personal+-+Mrs+Fowler+the+70s+Dick+Jim+Me+etc+110b.jpg" width="640" /></span></a></div><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span><p align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></p><p align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></p><p align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></p><p align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></p><p align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></p><p align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></p><p align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></p><p align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></p><p align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></p><p align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">Children at the corner of Dickens Street and Richmond Road. We lived at 8 Dickens street when my son Victor was born in 1972.</span></p><p align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></p><p align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghjlGVqB0DmnY9oddE6x-o36iGZ6mLwP0ZR1B7i5_Qo-AHDVcouCIP06Ge0C4RC43lCGSRE0-ViEyYq9PgaG02o7Fx2TgiGQ_Oj43610WL8p6uRWGsjN60phh33gWRxHch7EIL7fGefSID/s2048/Personal+-+Mrs+Fowler+the+70s+Dick+Jim+Me+etc+111b.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1476" data-original-width="2048" height="462" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghjlGVqB0DmnY9oddE6x-o36iGZ6mLwP0ZR1B7i5_Qo-AHDVcouCIP06Ge0C4RC43lCGSRE0-ViEyYq9PgaG02o7Fx2TgiGQ_Oj43610WL8p6uRWGsjN60phh33gWRxHch7EIL7fGefSID/w640-h462/Personal+-+Mrs+Fowler+the+70s+Dick+Jim+Me+etc+111b.jpg" width="640" /></span></a></div><div><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-size: x-large;"><span> The old man in K' Road. </span><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYNErJnA_O72_I66u-htPsM0aBwDDxQOUjYvBVeTHruH4TUMvu2d1GzxjuLEmWKdu6sEtu2el2Va8kvbjYsAG2CQQgFb3q7sfVNLx0YCl3WzIaeLbNP_iLidn9VkysV4KEPYAW2Yav9q7c/s2048/Personal+-+Mrs+Fowler+the+70s+Dick+Jim+Me+etc+125b.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1476" data-original-width="2048" height="462" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYNErJnA_O72_I66u-htPsM0aBwDDxQOUjYvBVeTHruH4TUMvu2d1GzxjuLEmWKdu6sEtu2el2Va8kvbjYsAG2CQQgFb3q7sfVNLx0YCl3WzIaeLbNP_iLidn9VkysV4KEPYAW2Yav9q7c/w640-h462/Personal+-+Mrs+Fowler+the+70s+Dick+Jim+Me+etc+125b.jpg" width="640" /></span></a></div><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /><span>He meets his mate -- they ponder some events and issues. </span></span></div><div><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></div><div><span><span style="font-size: x-large;">Working Class Children Playing in Victoria Park.</span></span></div><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></div><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjkfqYSALR4qI1AH-6MrmgQbuV3qEL9QhjeVOFXgRq8dChsOHvGTz9MnpaNm00MXN1v8iFkaneJu3GL0yI1z6DMTOC3A6tcznjTBnextP7w0CeR38_qcZ9Oem80OfIYfDaJ4FUPHqenkSi/s2048/Personal+-+Mrs+Fowler+the+70s+Dick+Jim+Me+etc+112b.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1397" data-original-width="2048" height="435" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjkfqYSALR4qI1AH-6MrmgQbuV3qEL9QhjeVOFXgRq8dChsOHvGTz9MnpaNm00MXN1v8iFkaneJu3GL0yI1z6DMTOC3A6tcznjTBnextP7w0CeR38_qcZ9Oem80OfIYfDaJ4FUPHqenkSi/w640-h435/Personal+-+Mrs+Fowler+the+70s+Dick+Jim+Me+etc+112b.jpg" width="640" /></span></a></div><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br />Shot I got of a Polynesian boy on a swing in Victoria Park.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></div><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgCoHhb_om-28_VAvFIJ2VB9oLBIm4LSeejyx6GmB52lXKQGpIIjHlBrdB-0dP2f3FXe8QaMVXhr_hst1pElnWzh3Al-6AqH62d4WywkCOzweyYoZYjD4a1LJpVQskwgTIKblw3d1LTHZ3H/s2048/Personal+-+Mrs+Fowler+the+70s+Dick+Jim+Me+etc+113b.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1409" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgCoHhb_om-28_VAvFIJ2VB9oLBIm4LSeejyx6GmB52lXKQGpIIjHlBrdB-0dP2f3FXe8QaMVXhr_hst1pElnWzh3Al-6AqH62d4WywkCOzweyYoZYjD4a1LJpVQskwgTIKblw3d1LTHZ3H/w440-h640/Personal+-+Mrs+Fowler+the+70s+Dick+Jim+Me+etc+113b.jpg" width="440" /></span></a></div><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjkHDqhS__S4lk13XcjxVAtK8wf1jJHJ24betN8BdxyRkeWzAqtapD1GFVqgPZX2x29SX1QmLmUdzggeE75ou8bKtA6GBkiQNDYPSMom3c9yns2AF4TzLOwFylrotpSDfIZ8g0bMqnUdupG/s5184/Personal+-+Mrs+Fowler+the+70s+Dick+Jim+Me+etc+114.JPG" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3888" data-original-width="5184" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjkHDqhS__S4lk13XcjxVAtK8wf1jJHJ24betN8BdxyRkeWzAqtapD1GFVqgPZX2x29SX1QmLmUdzggeE75ou8bKtA6GBkiQNDYPSMom3c9yns2AF4TzLOwFylrotpSDfIZ8g0bMqnUdupG/w400-h300/Personal+-+Mrs+Fowler+the+70s+Dick+Jim+Me+etc+114.JPG" width="400" /></span></a></div><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZUX6Ps70QlirTbGgoudZJKSqX0ZnHOURkS_SVT9arEnAjsCqwayY21RIibP7TjcfO_h-_qTcSCy_g0NfCwCxPhgAglaLSCbefBm8lVScpjY1vJPwoDTABy4RX3VNygpbqt9wNaAIgD220/s2048/Personal+-+Mrs+Fowler+the+70s+Dick+Jim+Me+etc+115b.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1343" data-original-width="2048" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZUX6Ps70QlirTbGgoudZJKSqX0ZnHOURkS_SVT9arEnAjsCqwayY21RIibP7TjcfO_h-_qTcSCy_g0NfCwCxPhgAglaLSCbefBm8lVScpjY1vJPwoDTABy4RX3VNygpbqt9wNaAIgD220/s320/Personal+-+Mrs+Fowler+the+70s+Dick+Jim+Me+etc+115b.jpg" width="320" /></span></a></div><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEipvcFVJoU88onzsDIc6ajV4dtjTVM2vvFCl4dIq6eVUN2ceg8SE6S9syqYHY-qFen0KXhFulZ7m6CQAH-B1itvAAaQ4hbJtGFGTKN3Pc1M0Q6Qga3SSWq13sUdJya1FonFCa_gv0fIhvga/s2048/Personal+-+Mrs+Fowler+the+70s+Dick+Jim+Me+etc+116b.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1451" data-original-width="2048" height="284" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEipvcFVJoU88onzsDIc6ajV4dtjTVM2vvFCl4dIq6eVUN2ceg8SE6S9syqYHY-qFen0KXhFulZ7m6CQAH-B1itvAAaQ4hbJtGFGTKN3Pc1M0Q6Qga3SSWq13sUdJya1FonFCa_gv0fIhvga/w400-h284/Personal+-+Mrs+Fowler+the+70s+Dick+Jim+Me+etc+116b.jpg" width="400" /></span></a></div><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfivnN-rdR_0ZRrAR1jM1qm6d1Jj7z-9X6ARIgsa58Tr1K6hkkkdudk5XZMUb-3hi95tu5FlKJB6oTNXpW19gzauW9FTRP-F0_7JZBw4MJnRPsEKAmmB8zLrDzop0IYBr2uzCyf1aD7Emz/s2048/Personal+-+Mrs+Fowler+the+70s+Dick+Jim+Me+etc+117b.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1417" data-original-width="2048" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfivnN-rdR_0ZRrAR1jM1qm6d1Jj7z-9X6ARIgsa58Tr1K6hkkkdudk5XZMUb-3hi95tu5FlKJB6oTNXpW19gzauW9FTRP-F0_7JZBw4MJnRPsEKAmmB8zLrDzop0IYBr2uzCyf1aD7Emz/s320/Personal+-+Mrs+Fowler+the+70s+Dick+Jim+Me+etc+117b.jpg" width="320" /></span></a></div><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></div><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTqW7Si1f4mCVJtjtu2Fx_yGo1sGb4j3OfoiQPi_qqfAZOXZNXyUGBfbQ_MnwLaHfz1uEdBBvjmSe-69ElivYs9XT9KIyyB-C_RnKvbjcgdmA1k671WOki7ze6ahYLgwyOSIRwHo7e2Z-q/s2048/Personal+-+Mrs+Fowler+the+70s+Dick+Jim+Me+etc+120bc.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1425" data-original-width="2048" height="446" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTqW7Si1f4mCVJtjtu2Fx_yGo1sGb4j3OfoiQPi_qqfAZOXZNXyUGBfbQ_MnwLaHfz1uEdBBvjmSe-69ElivYs9XT9KIyyB-C_RnKvbjcgdmA1k671WOki7ze6ahYLgwyOSIRwHo7e2Z-q/w640-h446/Personal+-+Mrs+Fowler+the+70s+Dick+Jim+Me+etc+120bc.jpg" width="640" /></span></a></div><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span><p align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></p><p align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"> <span> An explosion of joy and energy and aliveness. Of being. (Victoria Park).</span></span></p><p align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></p><p align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></p><p align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">Children playing at Victoria Park - I get them to run toward me. I love their immense love of being alive. I never saw any obese Pacific Island or Maori people with a few exceptions. Sadly this has changed as they eat an increasingly bad diet of American-type food. </span></p><p align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></p><p align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><span style="color: #ff00fe; text-align: left;">_________________________________________ _______________________________________</span><span style="text-align: left;">_</span></span></p>
<p align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">I and
Dick Fowler had our role in the Agnew demonstration. There are
photographs in Tim Shadbolt's <i>Bullshit and JellyBeans, </i>pub.
Alister Taylor, December 1971<i>. </i>I can be seen on page 122 in a
series of photographs. Dick Fowler had been filming the event, one of
his many interests being film and photography. There are 4 frames on
that page. I can be seen holding what was my Pentax. As time had gone
on, the demonstration was peaceful, it had got dark. I had got good
with my camera which had a 30 sec speed and various aperture
settings and a night flash. But I never mastered my night shots. I
took some, but in less dramatic situations. What I was trying to do,
was to show the police they were or could be witnessed. But by frame
4, 40 seconds or so I am go.
</span></p>
<p align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;">
</p>
<p align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">The
US sent Agnew to pressure NZ for more involvement and support in the
Vietnam War (The American War). Shadbolt gives a great description of
events leading up to it. The result of one of the most violent
protests in NZ history perhaps outside of those at Waihi in
.......(where there was a death, believed to this day to be a murder)
and during the unemployed strikes in the late 20s and others. So let
me restate it, anything about it -- and a lot online for example is
simplistic and naive -- almost all in fact, that downplay both the
importance of this protest in changing peoples' and the medias' minds
and in the extreme brutality of the police is to be ignored. The
protest itself took place outside what is now called The Pullman
Hotel, and was then called The Hyatt Hotel. Shadbolt had great
courage. He wasn't there but he had been in many violent actions, had
been jailed and much else. Many there stayed to oppose the police.
This is what they did. A sergeant came forward, asked us to move. We
didn't. As people argued the police moved forward. There was only
seconds between the warning to move and then the brutal attack of the
police. This was a ploy. People were terribly beaten, getting broken
jaws and repeated beatings. Women, young and old, anyone in the way
was attacked. I saw them kicking their way straight into the sitting
protestors. Soon after you can see I am gone. I crouched as waves of
police flooded like killers into the people. No one got any mercy. I
made my way through the crowd, and ran. I was full of absolute
terror. Never had I seen such terrible violence, and never will I
ever trust the police again.
</span></p>
<p align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br />
</span></p>
<p align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">In
the terrible savagery of the attack Dick Fowler kept filming. He saw
what he identified as a US Secret Service agent coming toward him. He
kept filming. The policeman struck him on the chin. Trained in Karate
etc, another of his 'hobbies', Dick did a backward roll, all the
while holding onto his super 8 camera. After he righted himself he
continued filming. This was fortunate.</span></p>
<p align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br />
</span></p>
<p align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">Meanwhile,
unlike many, or Dick, I was seized with an almost uncontrollable
terror. I ran and ran, all the way down through Albert Park to near
where the entrance to the Auckland Art Gallery was. It had been the
library. From there I waited. Somehow I had bought, with Dick,
another A40, to use to change the crank shaft, another of our things
'to do' never done by this method. But the A40 we had bought worked.
But when I got back to it, the police (who else) had torn out the
wiring. I cant recall how I got the car home. This all took place at
11.45 pm on January 16, 1970.
</span></p>
<p align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br />
</span></p>
<p align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">There
had been a picket and that was expected to last. Here is are some
short quotes from Bullshit and Jellybeans:
</span></p>
<p align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;">
</p>
<p align="JUSTIFY" style="break-before: auto; font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 0.41cm; margin-right: 0.69cm; page-break-before: auto;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">
...The Hotel looked like a medieval fortress. Steel posts were
embedded in three feet of
</span></p>
<p align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 0.41cm;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">
concrete and linked by by heavy chains. There were over 900
uniformed cops whoa had
</span></p>
<p align="JUSTIFY" style="break-before: auto; font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 0.87cm; margin-right: 0.63cm; page-break-before: auto;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">
poured in from all over the country, Four vanloads of airforce staff
were placed "in reserve" behind the hotel.The army had two
trucks full of men and a supply of battons and shields. A helicopter
armed with heavy machine guns hovered above the the hotel.</span></p>
<p align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 0.87cm; margin-right: 0.63cm;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">
Police vans full of dogs waited out of sight, scores of traffic
officers guarded all teh crossroads around the hotel. There were also
scores of plainsclothesmen with walkie-talkie radios,...[in the
hotel] ... every lift was occupied by armed American guards.</span></p>
<p align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 0.87cm; margin-right: 0.63cm;">
<span style="font-size: x-large;"><br />
</span></p>
<p align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 0.87cm; margin-right: 0.63cm;"><span style="font-size: x-large; text-align: left;">About seven to ten policemen continued pushing myself and four
or five others roughly down to the band stand [in Albert Park] and
there I was violently pushed across a green park bench, hitting my
head as I did so, my money spilling out of my pocket....I was
violently punched....another policeman came up and kicked me
violentely in the base of the spine. I then ran....By the bandstand I
saw a young man being violently punched in the stomach by a
policeman. He sank to the ground retching..." Timothy
Binnington, land agent and surveyor.</span></p>
<p align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 0.87cm; margin-right: 0.63cm;">
<span style="font-size: x-large;"><br />
</span></p>
<p align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 0.87cm; margin-right: 0.63cm;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">
"The police on Waterloo Quadrant rushed into the crowd without
any warning audible to us, and began shoving, punching and kicking
the demonstrators to clear the street. We had about two minues in
which to see several instances of bullying and downright brutality by
the police."</span></p>
<p align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 0.87cm; margin-right: 0.63cm;">
<span style="font-size: x-large;"><br />
</span></p>
<p align="JUSTIFY" style="break-before: auto; font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 0.04cm; margin-right: -0.04cm; page-break-before: auto;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">
There were many other incidents. Those who remained were very brave,
and some protested and tried to make a kind of stand. But the police
as can be seen in a pamphlet which shows much evidence from
bystanders, University people who could see the whole thing from
their grounds, and others, the police had a definite desire to 'teach
the protestors a lesson' and they ignored the law, savagely attacking
people regardless of age sex or any other factor. They had become
enraged like wild beasts.
</span></p>
<p align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 0.04cm; margin-right: -0.04cm;">
<span style="font-size: x-large;"><br />
</span></p>
<p align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 0.04cm; margin-right: -0.04cm;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">
They were protecting a system, that of Capitalism and Imperialism,
which still exists today. Where Dick was I have no idea. But because
of his bravery, and agility, a number of assorted PYM and other young
people were able to watch his movie of the entire event. Or at least
the first few minutes. A lot happened in that time. Terror was used
by the State, as it has for thousands of years to control people.
Civilization, which Tim Shadbolt in those days called Syphalization,
referring to the effects of disease on people other that Europeans in
the process of Coloniliasation (it has to be cautioned here that, in
a deep sense, we are all a part of this "process" called
Colonialization -- it would take a book as big as at least the
Encyclopedia Britannica to present a good study of this and other
phenomena of history, but we can, for now, refer thus to it);
civilization as we know it is propped up by the force of the State;
and indeed that includes military and physical force. Also of course
the more insidious political or social and psychological propaganda.
</span></p>
<p align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 0.04cm; margin-right: -0.04cm;">
<span style="font-size: x-large;"><br />
</span></p>
<p align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 0.04cm; margin-right: -0.04cm;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">
When we watched Dick's movie, we saw the lines advance (I cant recall
seeing myself) then a it was like sea wave of police, then the
kicking began, and then the brutality. People were beaten up almost
to death who had nothing to do with it. As we watched, suddenly it
blurred violently, and then returned to the scene of police savagery
and mayhem. All laughed, as we had heard Dick's story. The blurring
was when he did his backward roll, ignoring the cop or US Secret
Service man who'd punched him, and then he continued filming.
</span></p>
<p align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 0.04cm; margin-right: -0.04cm;">
<span style="font-size: x-large;"><br />
</span></p>
<p align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 0.04cm; margin-right: -0.04cm;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">
We laughed but what did we learn? We saw, and some had experienced,
on a smaller scale, what millions of people across the world had
experienced, either in the slow effects of oppression or in the
immediate attempts to fight against such oppression. It also showed
that to oppose such fascism can be done. The larger philosophical
political and other questions I shall leave for now. For example, the
question, regardless of the situation, of the nature and or cause or
even the definition of what is human courage. Also, at a deeper
level, what is the nature of things. Can we even stipulate a right
and or a wrong. We have a sense of it, no sureity. Mao tse Tung's
'political power comes out of the barrel of a gun' is more profound
than many people realise. However, whether we can ever build or have
a "better world" is asked, so to speak.
</span></p>
<p align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 0.04cm; margin-right: -0.04cm;">
<span style="font-size: x-large;"><br />
</span></p>
<p align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 0.04cm; margin-right: -0.04cm;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">
In my case it showed me something of Dick Fowler. Dick had helped to
initiate the PYM itself. I am not sure of all the details of that,
but around this time or earlier questions were raised re the
direction the political left should move. At the meetings Frank Lane
turned up, recently from Ausralia (his mother who was a power, as
well as his also passionately Marxist brother .... arrived, and there
others. Frank and I concurred on Revisionism (Dick Fowler, who was
also capable almost as well as Tim Shadbolt, to give spontaneous and
often profound speeches, and example being a long history of the
Vietnamese peoples' struggle against the Chinese, the French
colonists, the Japanese, the British, the French again, and then
talked of their victory over the French a Dien Bien Phu in 1956.
After which they were independent and desired a democratic state.
They wanted elections. The US, true to their political nature,
blocked this. Then these elections were cynically blocked by the US
(Dick, who gave this speech in Albert Park one day, I assumed had
learnt from e.g. the book <i>Rape of Vietnam</i> by Harold Slingsby,
the struggle began again against the US and their very right wing
allies in the South...one of whom claimed Hitler was his only hero.
People who loved Hitler the US or the CIA loved and love. The US
manufactured an incident in the Gulf of Tonkin (which itself was a
violation of international laws. So the Vietnamese responded to US
gunships with torpedo boats. This meant that in the late 50s the US
started the invasion and war on Vietnam. All of this I assume Dick
learnt from the same book, mine was borrowed from Ray Goff at the
Railway Workshops. Hearing that speech at Albert Park one day I was
very impressed. I once tried to speak but my rhetoric failed me and
people drifted away. At Albert Park on Sundays the 'jumping Sundays
were a great place to meet and learn even, and hear music played from
the band rotunda. By Roger Fowler.....and.....; Dick Fowler had given
a speech to us re Revisionism and had shown how even while Lenin was
alive, or at least after he died, a painting of him addressing the
people, had been changed, showing a sterner, less likeable Lenin, and
someone, perhaps Trotsky, had been removed: so the working class
revolution was turning into a new form of dictatorship, an irony of
this was that Lenin himself had warned that if a people's state
failed it would leave a regime more severe and repressive than that
of the Tsars)....</span></p>
<p align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 0.04cm; margin-right: -0.04cm;">
<span style="font-size: x-large;"><br />
</span></p>
<p align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 0.04cm; margin-right: -0.04cm;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">
But Frank Lane also gave speeches (not to large gatherings though as
far as I know) and emphasised the need of the PYM and others to
combine theory with practice. We felt more education, more things of
interest, history, culture etc should be in the PYM, and Frank urged
that as well as focusing on international issues, which were
important (and there were many aside from the Vietnam War), we needed
to work at the local level. For his theory he quoted from the little
Red Book. I still have copies of that book. In those days Frank and
I valued it as a treasury of wisdom. I still believe in the passion
and many of the ideas of Mao-tse-Tung.
</span></p>
<p align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 0.04cm; margin-right: -0.04cm;">
<span style="font-size: x-large;"><br />
</span></p>
<p align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 0.04cm; margin-right: -0.04cm;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">
The idea he proposed was to begin a shop in Ponsonby (after we had
discussed these issues for some time). Mao had urged that cadres of
the Marxist movement should be 'fish in water' among the people. This
idea was actually followed but for complex reasons, as in the USSR
gradually China became simply a significant, but basically a
Capitalist state. Inherently not much better than any other right
wing Imperialist State. Nevertheless, the achievement of the Chinese
people in throwing off the yoke of oppression (by landlords, the old
decadent systems of Government, and defeating the Japanese, as well
as teaching new ideas from the West to counter the conservatism and
often 'backwardness' and poverty of China was enormous.</span></p>
<p align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 0.04cm; margin-right: -0.04cm;">
<span style="font-size: x-large;"><br />
</span></p>
<p align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 0.04cm; margin-right: -0.04cm;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">
Meanwhile Frank set up his shop at 123 Ponsonby Road. He began with
books of all kinds that his mother or he and others had or ones he
had picked up. I liked books so I was interested in that. I think the
PYM people, and some at Resistance (the general student and broader
based political movement centre located in Central Queen Street, a
little further down from the Town Hall on the other side) were less
interested and saw Frank's attempt as a cynical attempt to make
money. He was studying Engineering and some Mathematics. (He later
became a Civil Engineer). We got on well. As time passed, Frank
began to set up posters in the shop. Many of the buildings in
Ponsonby were owned by Friedlander. Frank had got various posters
enlarged and hung up against a black background. These included, as
well as posters of Mao, Marx, Che Guevara and others such, of images
of the Black Panthers (Bobby Seale, whose book Frank was keen on, I
also read books about the Black Panthers and Malcom X etc), also Jane
Fonder, Jimmy Hendrix and other "radical" figures of the
culture at that time. Then he began showing movies. These were fairly
popular but quality or interesting movies from the US etc or they
were movies that had political and significant messages. He ran these
on Sundays for a small charge. They were pretty popular. (Later that
year I moved with my girlfriend who was to become my wife, Mary
Manoah, into 123. We lived upstairs, and when I had a car I parked it
around the back (there was and still is a small alleyway giving
access to the back of the shops).
</span></p>
<p align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 0.04cm; margin-right: -0.04cm;">
<span style="font-size: x-large;"><br />
</span></p>
<p align="JUSTIFY" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 0.04cm; margin-right: -0.04cm;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><span style="font-style: normal;">
It is worth emphasising that Ponsonby was a working class area in
those days, with Maori, Samoan, Tongan and working class European
people. There were many ethnicities. Now Ponsonby has changed. Where
I live, Panmure, and the surrounding has more and more people of a
much wider range of ethnic or cultural groups than there were in the
50s and 60s when I grew up. I knew little of Polynesian people. After
I joined the PYM and got interested in political issues, I decided I
should learn Samoan. So I took some lessons in Samoan and Maori at
the WEA (Worker's Education Institute -- my father, before he trained
as an architect, had joined these and taken courses run by R A K
Mason (the poet and classical scholar who was also a socialist, and
mentored Hone Tuwhare, virtually NZ's greatest Maori poet of his
time); but he also knew Bill Sutch the Economist, and Fairburn). I learnt
some words, as I have said, and tried to use them, but learning any
language is difficult. Still, I learnt something of the people living
with them or among them and working with many such at the Freezing
works etc, and the many factories I worked at. Those who came to
Frank's movies were working class people. His Sunday movies were
showed interesting movies. We watch things such as 'The Planet of the
Apes', and a film with Jane Fonda in, </span><i>A Clockwork Orange</i> and the
political movies, some set in WWII etc. Some were blatant propaganda
movies for the Soviet Union. But overall there were a lot of
interesting movies.
</span></p>
<p align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 0.04cm; margin-right: -0.04cm;">
<span style="font-size: x-large;"><br />
</span></p>
<p align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 0.04cm; margin-right: -0.04cm;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">
But what of Mrs. Fowler and Dick? I went to Mrs. Fowler's place, up a
driveway off Frost Road in Mt Roskill, and enjoyed tea and cakes
there and was in some awe of the large number of books she and
probably Dick had. I liked Mrs. Fowler. I hadn't met anyone quite
like her, and she was kind of "patrician". She had not an
exaggerated English upper class accent, but it was there. She was
intelligent and a good person. I dipped into some of the books. Some
were by A. E. Lee and others. I had read a lot in my teenage days,
but now I found books almost threatening (although I had read through
<i>The Rape of Vietnam</i>, and indeed I copied most of it by hand to
help me remember it). The book I borrowed from Cecil and Dick was <i>The
Great Road, the Life and Times of Chu Teh</i>, by Agnes Smedley.
This seemed to me a vast book and all histories of China I read
seemed to me of vast place and a huge history. The Chinese
revolution, opposed by the Russian Revisionists, was successful because
of the involvement of revolutionary Marxists and “liberal thinkers”,
peasants, students and intellectuals as well as many sections of
society and those who wanted, unlike the Kuomintang, who mainly
cooperated and even assisted the Japanese invaders, to create an
independent and “new” China based on democratic and Marxist
principles. Smedley was spoke Chinese and was deeply interested in
world socialist-communist revolution. Her life, like that of Chu
Teh's was remarkable. Chu Teh rid himself of an opium habit, and put
his large (almost army sized gang) to the services of the revolution.
This book seemed formidable. It was long and it went through much of
Chinese history. Also good was <i>China Shakes the World</i> by Jack
Belden (Belden also knew Chinese, he jumped ship and met Mao tse
Tung). I read other books about China. At that time circa 1969 the
revolution was largely successful and China was making great gains.
The Reader's Digest, which was one of the many things I read as a
teenager, often had propaganda depicting the terrible things China
had done to the world. But in those days I even met Chinese who
supported Mao and the new China. Also I meet Tom Newnham who worked
for CARE (the Citizens' Association for Racial Equality), a kindly
man, he knew Chinese and other languages, I asked him, was not
Chinese very difficult with thousands of characters, his reply was
that in all languages only a basic number of those semantic units are
used. (And my own experience with language and linguistic has shown
me that all languages are equally difficult to learn, especially for
an adult – but some show special difficulties, but otherwise his
words were true). He and Cecil Fowler were members of the China
Society.
</span></p>
<p align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 0.04cm; margin-right: -0.04cm;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><span style="text-align: left;"><span style="background-color: #fff2cc; color: #2b00fe;">Cecil, Dick, Tom Newnham</span><span style="background-color: #fff2cc; color: #fcff01;"> </span>and others were only some of the interesting
characters I met in those days. It was a fascinating time. Sometimes
terrifying but we yearned for a better world in those days. Much as
young people probably have done in previous generations, and indeed
people continue to do. I have moved into more cynical or skeptical
views of the world, but writing this revives for a moment 'a broken
Corialan'. (</span><i style="text-align: left;">Corialanus</i><span style="text-align: left;"> by Shakespeare was one of the plays we
studied in 1968). I said Frank Lane arrived from Australia but
others did and then (I forget the order and dates of these things)
Frank's mother, also Cecil, who we called Mrs. Lane, and Joe Lane
(who had married a part Aboriginal woman). Frank & Joe and sometimes
just Frank and his mother engaged in deep, and often enraged
arguments. Frank once accused me of agreeing with his attack on her
once, as he had been wrong. This complex relationship with his mother
remained. But I found the Lane family interesting.</span></span></p>
<p align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 0.04cm; margin-right: -0.04cm;"><span style="font-size: x-large; text-align: left;">Earlier I think than all this I, Dick and Jim Dollimore had decided
to go on a hitch-hike trip to Wellington. We set out and I have
photographs of Dick and Jim striding off. The first time we went to
Wellington, taking lifts, and stayed at Sally Lake's place. There and
on that trip I took some interesting photographs using slides and
film. Some of the slides I haven't developed. But Dick took
photographs of me in a “cave” on the side of a great hill in a
valley North West (I think) of Havelock North. Havelock North from
memory is North of Napier. It was here Dick and Jim started singing,
Dick was singing a theme from a famous symphony by Mahler which I
recalled (as in the mid 60s I spent a lot of time with my father
listening to classical music of all kinds, on a stereo he was very
proud to have). Whether it was Dick's strong singing or a farm hand
was moving them but all of a sudden, looking down the valley we saw
thousands (it seemed) of sheep running in mass down the valley. We
found this quite funny. We were all puzzled, amused that Mahler could
cause such an effect on sheep.</span></p>
<p align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 0.04cm; margin-right: -0.04cm;"><span style="font-size: x-large; text-align: left;"><br /></span></p><p align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 0.04cm; margin-right: -0.04cm;"><span style="font-size: x-large; text-align: left;">We then worked for a bit on a farm picking (tomatoes)? I forget, but
Dick and Jim were faster than me. I had this problem, always in such
things, of slowness. But we all made some money and returned to
Auckland. On the way I telegraphed my father, as we were so short of
money I though of robbing a dairy: but couldn't bring myself to do
it, and he sent money to the next town we went to. This was typical
of me. The theoretical revolutionary, I was still not quite
independent. Although in those days I always took work and was always
working somewhere. We went on other walking trips but I think it was
at the end of that one that Jim decided to not return to his
apprenticeship as a worker in the area of agriculture, gardening etc.
I think it was partly because, at some meeting earlier, Peter
Williams, who had been at my school Tamaki College had got onto his
case to the effect that he was in an effeminate trade (or something
to that effect). We tried to persuade him to stick at it.</span></p>
<p align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 0.04cm; margin-right: -0.04cm;"><span style="font-size: x-large; text-align: left;">We all enjoyed our trek to Wellington, and our move through Gisborne
and Napier where we saw the marine place where they had dolphins. We
got to Dick's auntie's place in Havelock North. She was very nice and
fed us. She asked us about our protesting etc and a small argument
ensued with Dick telling her that we were as concerned about the
world as she with her protest against the dam at Roxborough (this was
an issue as was Ti Wai Point, the dam meant more of the beautiful
land was taken for so-called “progress”, but ecological issues,
while there was an awareness of them, and population increases, were
not so, or seemed less important than they do now). Dick got the best
of his poor aunt but he was never vindictive. War and injustice were
always deeply wrong to Dick, and he could see the importance of
significance and need of strong struggle for a “better world” as
did the Lanes and many others. Both Dick and his Aunt meant well.</span></p>
<p align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 0.04cm; margin-right: -0.04cm;"><span style="font-size: x-large; text-align: left;">Meanwhile the rim round the bath incident happened. We all had a
bath. Dick then I and then Jim. When he had dressed Dick brought us
to the bathroom. Jim had failed to remove the distinct ring of dirt
from the bath. Last out he had failed. Dick balled him out and soon
Jim set to to clean it up. The small things one recalls! We proceeded
on.</span></p>
<p align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 0.04cm; margin-right: -0.04cm;"><span style="font-size: x-large; text-align: left;">Before all of this, probably in early 1969, I had started taking an
interest in Photography. My brother had had a dark room built in a
shed (power supplied through a conduit in a system my father devised,
probably technically illegal, but it allowed him to use a safe lamp –
I later used this and the enlarger he had to process a few
photographs). Dennis had lost interest and gave me his camera, or I
bought it, I forgot. I took some photographs. The first was in
Ellerslie of a long gone Macrocarpa tree, the bend of which 'echoed'
the arc of a foot bridge. It is still there although changed and the
tree is gone. I also took photographs of industrial places. Later
with Dick and Jim we decided to go to Queen Street and look at
cameras. Dick was to be a tutor re cameras and photography. We walked
into a shop and there was (Graham?) Knowles who had lived by the
Hunters, in the house with a very large Norfolk Pine. I looked
around. We admired the cameras looking for an SLR camera, the Nikons
were then some of the best. But Graham produced a Pentax. He named a
price that was, while expensive to us then, was good considering the
price of most of the new cameras. Asking him why, he said: “If fell
off a shelf.”I thought he meant that literally, maybe it had, it
was only later I thought that that was an 'expression'.</span></p>
<p align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 0.04cm; margin-right: -0.04cm;"><span style="font-size: x-large; text-align: left;">This is how I got my second camera. I took many photographs with it
then and over the years. In about 1991 my car was stolen with that
camera, the 55mm and wider angle 85mm lense, my close up lenses,
lense cap, carrying bag, cleaner. All was taken. It wasn't until I
started selling books about 1998 and when I joined got a computer
that I got digital cameras to show my books.</span></p>
<p align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 0.04cm; margin-right: -0.04cm;"><span style="font-size: x-large; text-align: left;">A lot happened in those years and the next time I resume this story I
will add more events around those days. But I must now jump to 2014
when I heard from Barry Lee and his wife (Cecil Fowler's daughter)
that Mrs Fowler had died.</span></p>
<p align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 0.04cm; margin-right: -0.04cm;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><span style="text-align: left;"><span style="color: red;"><b>There were many people at her funeral</b>,</span> including Ray Goff who had
lent me </span><i style="text-align: left;">Rape of Vietnam</i><span style="text-align: left;">, and many people I recognised from the
days I read at Poetry Live, at the Albion and the Shakespeare in 1989
to about 1991. But there were many others. Dick I talked to (I had
seen him and his mother at various times in the 80s, as Mrs Fowler
organized children's parties to which my children went. At this
funeral and her memorial in 2015, a lot of praise was given. She had
been active in many social areas, in politics, education (she was a
teacher). She had been a long time member of the China Society. I
will continue this and other memoirs in another post.</span></span></p>
<p align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 0.04cm; margin-right: -0.04cm;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><span style="text-align: left;">Mrs Fowler died on the 18</span><sup style="text-align: left;">th</sup><span style="text-align: left;"> of July, 2014. There was a
memorial (after the initial funeral) at Eden Gardens in Auckland City
in 2015. I talked there with people including Rewi. He became
passionate about a trade deal it seemed National were going to
proceed with. He was still passionate about politics. Ray Goff and
others were there I had known. Also Rewi's sister and Barry Lee and
others. I made a short speech recalling the good times at Mrs
Fowler's and how I had seen all those interesting books, how later my
children enjoyed her parties and also I her meetings with Chinese
people in the China Society (she had travelled I think more than once
to China). Dick gave a brilliant account of his experiences as a
child travelling around with his sister Anna and his young mother in
London. Also his mother's insistence that she had and would read
books an older relative told her a young woman such as her would not
be able to read. She was much loved by people from many
“directions”.</span></span></p>
<p align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 0.04cm; margin-right: -0.04cm;"><span style="font-size: x-large; text-align: left;">As I say, my talk with Dick was vehement. I had cooled somewhat in
my political certainties. But I admired his passion and continued
interest. (He also had designed a twin-hull yacht, or catamaran. He
showed me a video of it some years ago (about 1985 or so), where he
lived with his girl friend at the time, in Mangere. After his rage at
the proposals of Key and his Government he sat down, looking a bit
tired. Some months later that year he died from “a long term
illness”. It was a shock to me. In my own way I had in those short
“protest” years, I had loved Dick. I told my son about it, we
were in the local library. I broke down and cried.</span></p>
<p align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 0.04cm; margin-right: -0.04cm;"><span style="font-size: x-large; text-align: left;">There is more to tell. These posts on this particular subject act as
the Personal part of my Infinite Project and they could also be part
of a more extensive memoir. I realise they are not brilliantly
written but I needed to get these memories down. I needed to do this
and get the images sorted out. There is a lot more. I am aware that
this might be read by very few but my intention is to record, partly
for my own children and for myself, and in this case in honour or
Cecil Fowler and Dick, or Rewi Kemp.</span></p>
<p align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 0.04cm; margin-right: -0.04cm;"><span style="font-size: x-large; text-align: left;">In 2009, I read in news report after the event, Rewi had been sailing
a yacht from Fiji, and tried to make his way to Auckland through a
storm. He was thrown up on a rock. Was this an echo of our long ago
adventure on a yacht? In that previous adventure there was no harm.
In the later one he took a risk, relying on his own skill. The storm
that he ran into was ferocious. It was a near thing, his boat totally
smashed and Rewi washed to the shore. (His wife at this time, Janet,
was understandably alarmed. He would have been frightened. But he
was braver than I, and despite perhaps some errors, I admired Rewi in
many ways. I like indeed to think of that as a re-run. His passion,
or one, was boat design and obviously the sea. He was an
extraordinary being: he could be lax as I can be, and temporize as I
do, and not be certain quite what he wanted to do as I didn't much of
my life. But for me I am glad our lives intersected. It is true that
we did have arguments at some times but I still kept a strong memory
of Rewi – he could be irritating in a disturbing way – but he
could be and was generous and concerned. At our flat in Otahuhu he
allowed a mouse to live and let it run on him. I heard from a report
of his funeral or “life celebration” that he had even (later)
taken his trousers off in full view of passers by to make sure a
mouse escaped unharmed from his person. The witness at the event
commented on how, despite his 'militancy' and commitment to things,
he was very gentle. He was, he was and could be warm. Warm, very
intelligent, and gentle. And generous. But with a hidden and
sometimes evident strength.</span></p>
<p align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 0.04cm; margin-right: -0.04cm;"><span style="font-size: x-large; text-align: left;">I will add to this as in those days, while it was only a few years,
the time seemed to hold a great significance. I had come from a
severe nervous collapse, or “breakdown” (which effectively meant
I became dependent for a long time on anti-depressants and sedatives,
and then only sedatives) to my moving out of my own home and into the
world, so to speak. It was a kind of existential awakening, a
dawning. But there is much more to tell of those and the preceding
and following years. I will continue this on another post. </span></p>
<p align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 0.04cm; margin-right: -0.04cm;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">
_________________________________________________________________________________</span></p><p align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 0.04cm; margin-right: -0.04cm;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"> <span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> <b><span style="font-family: helvetica;"> <span>Barry Lee's Thesis for a PhD</span></span></b></span></span></p><p align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 0.04cm; margin-right: -0.04cm;"><span style="font-size: x-large; text-align: left;">Around the time I started working on this post (which is in quite a large part also a memoir of my own</span></p><p align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 0.04cm; margin-right: -0.04cm;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">life in these times, Barry Lee, who had asked me to participate in his Sociological Thesis for a PhD contacted me. He had sent questions to various of us who had been members of the PYM (Anna, Dick's sister and Barry's wife was included), including myself and others (my ex-wife Mary Manoah was included). As I was doing this post Barry contacted me re his thesis and sent a copy. This was good as it gave information on the, in fact, great effectiveness of the protests against the Vietnam War --his research showed that, bombing to total destruction was opposed by Kennedy, Lyndon Barnes Johnson, Nixon and etc as they privately indicated dislike of the mounting protests by the public. The use of atomic and indeed Teller's hydrogen bombs, was frequently advocated by scientists and military leaders (right back to General May's desire for a total nuclear destruction of the USSR immediately after WWII, and later such weapons in Korea and Vietnam (e.g. as a way out for the French when they were losing the war at Dien Bien Phu) and at other times). The force of the protest influenced millions of people to oppose war and war mongering. It is true that warmongers keep celebrating ANZAC, butmore people now oppose Imperialist Wars and indeed any wars. (This indeed began before the Vietnam War -- and indeed Bertrand Russell refused to fight in WWI, and in his 80s and older opposed the Vietnam War. Dr. Spock who advocated more kindness and commonsense with children also opposed the Vietnam war. Barry Lee's thesis goes into detail about many aspects of the PYM from 1965-1977. Apartheid and racism, women's issues, wars including the Vietnam War, and an interest in ideas of Marxism and even Anarchism etc as well as simply an awareness of history, is shown. I was able to find names I had forgotten (there are many others). I cannot due complete justice to the PhD thesis, but I feel it is very good. It uses objective research and anecdotal reports by ex PYM members at that time, including comments by myself. Dick was, with his sister Anna, and the Gabolinsky's. early founders of the PYM which developed from earlier peace movements. Dick died too soon to comment but the others did as did a lot I knew at the time. </span></p><p align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 0.04cm; margin-right: -0.04cm;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">Mrs Fowler's role in peace movements and in supporting positive political change was considerable. Her influence as a worker for these political issues and her dedication as a teacher. her interests in social justice and human rights were acknowledged at her funeral then also in 2015 at a memorial. Many people knew and loved her, and were inspired by her example.</span></p><p align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 0.04cm; margin-right: -0.04cm;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></p><p align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 0.04cm; margin-right: -0.04cm;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">Here is the title of the PhD thesis: </span></p><p align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 0.04cm; margin-right: -0.04cm;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><br /></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-fPcezvIHOveePQNT6KPckCll_9vV-HjIXh0WL_xWECgKYSxxukhOx7RVqicM6vNLuaKkY22aXVaWQK_ayleHi5YcqD0TLGsjEW1Odc9At26uVv26GrqXZ7sx3Hwrz1568O96i_zI0rWe/s1280/Eyelight+Blog+-+Barry+Lee%2527s+thesis+PYM+April+2021+003b.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><img border="0" data-original-height="947" data-original-width="1280" height="474" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-fPcezvIHOveePQNT6KPckCll_9vV-HjIXh0WL_xWECgKYSxxukhOx7RVqicM6vNLuaKkY22aXVaWQK_ayleHi5YcqD0TLGsjEW1Odc9At26uVv26GrqXZ7sx3Hwrz1568O96i_zI0rWe/w640-h474/Eyelight+Blog+-+Barry+Lee%2527s+thesis+PYM+April+2021+003b.jpg" width="640" /></span></a></div><div><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-size: x-large;">Barry Lee's thesis with comments from various ex PYM members. The thesis is good and uses people who wanted or agreed to be part of it, and various aspects of it were asked. Say: did you think the protests and the 'education' of being in those protests were good / important / still significant. Did we</span></div><div><span style="font-size: x-large;">achieve things. Most replies were in the positive although not all agreed on details. Each contributor</span></div><div><span style="font-size: x-large;">saw a different aspect of those days. </span></div><div><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-size: x-large;">[Cliff, I think, is Cliff Kelsall, who we knew -- he became, as protest widened, a kind of reporter for</span></div><div><span style="font-size: x-large;"> and promoter of the PYM and protest in general.]</span></div><div><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></div><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBV_QZ0zJC9obXR9rCgNx271p0QyyfInqt3cRUKQ_AGQXgAfKd7F-EgS0w93vLLNyovujp6dmY4pfaHFkIPZC2RGI-xRtdRsdY0a1Wv59zNRKcBW1Ec7PK1F48Ru9hATLnRwIcCTW30X7j/s1337/Eyelight+Blog+-+Barry+Lee%2527s+thesis+PYM+April+2021+004b.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><img border="0" data-original-height="892" data-original-width="1337" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBV_QZ0zJC9obXR9rCgNx271p0QyyfInqt3cRUKQ_AGQXgAfKd7F-EgS0w93vLLNyovujp6dmY4pfaHFkIPZC2RGI-xRtdRsdY0a1Wv59zNRKcBW1Ec7PK1F48Ru9hATLnRwIcCTW30X7j/w640-h426/Eyelight+Blog+-+Barry+Lee%2527s+thesis+PYM+April+2021+004b.jpg" width="640" /></span></a></div><div><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></div><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjinH8D2JZ8ODh38MXDU-ktJ7zjTeCcXrUlszn5dSKzYgVUSZU0e6rkPJlS2_vW3YQoHbnxabA934q0IawGR9VyyFYs1adynR8A8dz2nRtCyYYd-wyCMb0CK9hqLtkc1rwQ7-FhewVhuFnT/s1239/Eyelight+Blog+-+Barry+Lee%2527s+thesis+PYM+April+2021+005C.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><img border="0" data-original-height="637" data-original-width="1239" height="330" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjinH8D2JZ8ODh38MXDU-ktJ7zjTeCcXrUlszn5dSKzYgVUSZU0e6rkPJlS2_vW3YQoHbnxabA934q0IawGR9VyyFYs1adynR8A8dz2nRtCyYYd-wyCMb0CK9hqLtkc1rwQ7-FhewVhuFnT/w640-h330/Eyelight+Blog+-+Barry+Lee%2527s+thesis+PYM+April+2021+005C.jpg" width="640" /></span></a></div><div><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></div><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhOaI2p7tHGkhyphenhyphenNkTBARC4A64wdFqG9iFmbnZxNKn-x-hnVTLHQIB_2jCPLpfpIRX-nGOOhyQIAJi3E40G0OpCStyO72bEBnPHuKm-APcr7Ua3dLvjKGt2uXIUX7cBn_5y_vZ_hqSvE_ilB/s1337/Eyelight+Blog+-+Barry+Lee%2527s+thesis+PYM+April+2021+004b.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; 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margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 0.04cm; margin-right: -0.04cm;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><br /></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2S6lKOTXz-1U9QZGdki8PPLrnDqauzdafhoNbzeZUBSaVTgUlx6z_FnfVlUFQzacJoWYG6MynuizA1itI8IdrKgZwkbyv11xIcvim6-rPNlbFwd3y-iAK6clOYFG6b_KPn3XeF8zOdHvu/s1717/Eyelight+Blog+-+Barry+Lee%2527s+thesis+PYM+April+2021+010b.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1035" data-original-width="1717" height="386" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2S6lKOTXz-1U9QZGdki8PPLrnDqauzdafhoNbzeZUBSaVTgUlx6z_FnfVlUFQzacJoWYG6MynuizA1itI8IdrKgZwkbyv11xIcvim6-rPNlbFwd3y-iAK6clOYFG6b_KPn3XeF8zOdHvu/w640-h386/Eyelight+Blog+-+Barry+Lee%2527s+thesis+PYM+April+2021+010b.jpg" width="640" /></span></a></div><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span><div class="separator" style="clear: both; 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text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvAT-FDNiem0KRHGA8OeVaZE5bwol0hmEDTiHV5Nq2nIA0RE4Z9lDYXYeQObHXrzPKiuxzYSbgCYy1E0zQUYt5MyguWdUvl1SpbH35e5sZsJxC6selMipHq2cDBGYOgogvGF0jAKrr0g6z/s934/Eyelight+Blog+-+Barry+Lee%2527s+thesis+PYM+April+2021+009b.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><img border="0" data-original-height="787" data-original-width="934" height="541" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvAT-FDNiem0KRHGA8OeVaZE5bwol0hmEDTiHV5Nq2nIA0RE4Z9lDYXYeQObHXrzPKiuxzYSbgCYy1E0zQUYt5MyguWdUvl1SpbH35e5sZsJxC6selMipHq2cDBGYOgogvGF0jAKrr0g6z/w640-h541/Eyelight+Blog+-+Barry+Lee%2527s+thesis+PYM+April+2021+009b.jpg" width="640" /></span></a></div><p align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 0.04cm; margin-right: -0.04cm;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></p><p align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 0.04cm; margin-right: -0.04cm;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">People commented, as did my girlfriend then, who became my wife. Indeed the Protests Days were</span></p><p align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 0.04cm; margin-right: -0.04cm;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">when I met her -- a suggestion of Frank Lane. We also with Frank were involved in local issues --</span></p><p align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 0.04cm; margin-right: -0.04cm;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">housing, poverty, certain aspects of police racism. Also about then the Black Panthers had arisen. We</span></p><p align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 0.04cm; margin-right: -0.04cm;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">knew some of them and once I tried to connect to Nga Tamatoa (the Maori activists) and talked to Pat Hohepa. There I suggested that our working class fates or needs could come together. His objection was</span></p><p align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 0.04cm; margin-right: -0.04cm;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">that in any large insurrection or "revolution" Pakeha -- mostly being students and many of the radicals being 'intellectuals' sometimes from well to do homes -- would leave Maori etc when things heated up.</span></p><p align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 0.04cm; margin-right: -0.04cm;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">We weren't in Cuba. I admired Che Guevara but I knew that my "Idealism" had as much to do with the</span></p><p align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 0.04cm; margin-right: -0.04cm;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">change brought about by the amazingly effective medications (anti-depressants and tranquilizers) I was on (they had draw backs -- sometimes excessive nervous fatigue). So I agree. Generally the PYM, the Black Panthers, and Nga Tamatoa stayed separate. </span></p><p align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 0.04cm; margin-right: -0.04cm;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></p><p align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 0.04cm; margin-right: -0.04cm;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></p><p align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 0.04cm; margin-right: -0.04cm;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"> <span style="background-color: #cfe2f3;"><span><b><span style="color: #cc0000;">THE MISCONCEPTION THAT THE LABOUR <br /></span></b></span></span></span></p><p align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 0.04cm; margin-right: -0.04cm;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><span style="color: #cc0000;"><b style="background-color: #cfe2f3;"><span> IS A Real Democracy or that it is<span> "ENLIGH</span>TENED</span><span>"</span></b></span><br /></span></p><p align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 0.04cm; margin-right: -0.04cm;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></p><p align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 0.04cm; margin-right: -0.04cm;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgu4LHZ6Nwa2y-XlUI2B3eFskiwvGWOQfH7a-aPHN25lzITyHCq_an6tJV5FiNvJnXRodwLntoH0bFScwn-GVfl47uKP9iD0X3v4bHux7pTC0ithuEuoITLto7vfYsbuiUpC4v2ziphEPhy/s1855/Eyelight+Blog+-+Barry+Lee%2527s+thesis+PYM+April+2021+013b.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1392" data-original-width="1855" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgu4LHZ6Nwa2y-XlUI2B3eFskiwvGWOQfH7a-aPHN25lzITyHCq_an6tJV5FiNvJnXRodwLntoH0bFScwn-GVfl47uKP9iD0X3v4bHux7pTC0ithuEuoITLto7vfYsbuiUpC4v2ziphEPhy/w640-h480/Eyelight+Blog+-+Barry+Lee%2527s+thesis+PYM+April+2021+013b.jpg" width="640" /></span></a></div><div><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></div><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiG2Ug1s0cR0DR3GlpuwI04529yQK7CG5_YLHcN2-NevKm0pt3lxEsKReVMLepWUKf2s94JYdz2s_ACm9n-wN7ZXOouHVKQ2C6ypyH2bl58UQ6aKqDwdYLCmNX_rj_RHLYp6so2ALk0qzEx/s2648/Eyelight+Blog+-+Barry+Lee%2527s+thesis+PYM+April+2021+014b.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2648" data-original-width="1188" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiG2Ug1s0cR0DR3GlpuwI04529yQK7CG5_YLHcN2-NevKm0pt3lxEsKReVMLepWUKf2s94JYdz2s_ACm9n-wN7ZXOouHVKQ2C6ypyH2bl58UQ6aKqDwdYLCmNX_rj_RHLYp6so2ALk0qzEx/w288-h640/Eyelight+Blog+-+Barry+Lee%2527s+thesis+PYM+April+2021+014b.jpg" width="288" /></span></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><span> `<span> I knew many of these: John Croxford and is wife were a great couple full of news</span></span><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span><span style="font-size: x-large;">and ideas and enthusiasm. Steve Robertshaw was a hale and hearty fellow who would</span></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span><span style="font-size: x-large;">debate Socialism and other ideas at the Cafe we all went to in central Auckland ran by a</span></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span><span style="font-size: x-large;">German fellow. Gary Teale lived down the next street to me here in Panmure.</span></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span><span style="font-size: x-large;">In 1969 etc I would take him and his brother to the PYM meetings which I think were</span></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span><span style="font-size: x-large;">held on Wednesdays. They were at an upstairs room in St. Kevin's Arcade. There I met </span></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span><span style="font-size: x-large;">Frank Lane, Mary Manoah, James Dollimore and others. Meetings were strongly </span></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span><span style="font-size: x-large;">attended. A lot of incidents occurred. Those were the days.</span></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></div><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiALqmZUSp0GcRP6xZQdi51U4inf0Tj2eiSUOm2hNQ-65j-70Y0dddOfVtkxszmdTjf-8zT7tH9TCaSsfM5lYc03lDKzKgNXwrfrrclx3fOLGcyhQLgiquvEihdngUru8U42yHKIen1ITYt/s2048/Eyelight+Blog+-+Barry+Lee%2527s+thesis+PYM+April+2021+015b.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1947" data-original-width="2048" height="608" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiALqmZUSp0GcRP6xZQdi51U4inf0Tj2eiSUOm2hNQ-65j-70Y0dddOfVtkxszmdTjf-8zT7tH9TCaSsfM5lYc03lDKzKgNXwrfrrclx3fOLGcyhQLgiquvEihdngUru8U42yHKIen1ITYt/w640-h608/Eyelight+Blog+-+Barry+Lee%2527s+thesis+PYM+April+2021+015b.jpg" width="640" /></span></a></div><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEikjnhGa6zhqU6yt5Ot-4CEjfzWUsttpPgCcB6Fvlk4jQNlMrxEzTKD4pMLYXf7G6MuhtUQymfcnmiGIN7L7YO6WU6gmvPz34HJCG0mQ6BangNUcRVpgad9XKAhpLj3_FgY7Gz3VrKCJfOH/s1585/Eyelight+Blog+-+Barry+Lee%2527s+thesis+PYM+April+2021+016b.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1188" data-original-width="1585" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEikjnhGa6zhqU6yt5Ot-4CEjfzWUsttpPgCcB6Fvlk4jQNlMrxEzTKD4pMLYXf7G6MuhtUQymfcnmiGIN7L7YO6WU6gmvPz34HJCG0mQ6BangNUcRVpgad9XKAhpLj3_FgY7Gz3VrKCJfOH/w640-h480/Eyelight+Blog+-+Barry+Lee%2527s+thesis+PYM+April+2021+016b.jpg" width="640" /></span></a></div><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span><p align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 0.04cm; margin-right: -0.04cm;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></p><p align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 0.04cm; margin-right: -0.04cm;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></p><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDk2TNf2NjJ0V4dkHYV5DRjgxrvPk0uU2o1bFQ6X1Ii_1e3MXYTl9uJO_ccSju6EaMquTnY7UO_MojxN94kHHMmJjVK3zpYbsbAPLyRjn1PcrUas6HxvRF6Q-rRNqG0JnmFR9JOat3vB2T/s1449/Eyelight+Blog+-+Barry+Lee%2527s+thesis+PYM+April+2021+008b.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1050" data-original-width="1449" height="464" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDk2TNf2NjJ0V4dkHYV5DRjgxrvPk0uU2o1bFQ6X1Ii_1e3MXYTl9uJO_ccSju6EaMquTnY7UO_MojxN94kHHMmJjVK3zpYbsbAPLyRjn1PcrUas6HxvRF6Q-rRNqG0JnmFR9JOat3vB2T/w640-h464/Eyelight+Blog+-+Barry+Lee%2527s+thesis+PYM+April+2021+008b.jpg" width="640" /></span></a></div><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span><p></p><p align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 0.04cm; margin-right: -0.04cm;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><br /></span></p><p align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 0.04cm; margin-right: -0.04cm;"><span style="font-size: x-large; text-align: left;">___________________________________ ___________________________________ ____</span></p><p align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 0.04cm; margin-right: -0.04cm;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"> SOME IMAGES OF THE 1970 IVAN AGNEW ANTI-VIETNAM WAR PROTEST:</span></p><p align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 0.04cm; margin-right: -0.04cm;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></p><p align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 0.04cm; margin-right: -0.04cm;"><span style="font-size: x-large; text-align: left;"> </span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgENQqlpESn6vw-6AvnESQxeOXVhhX3SRTE0IDEdWFxV-ofY5BstaujZ67SEA9F0UKbJhXKbOvodmeWW6T_f-0YVlhoQm2z6ja1TR167IBCSU7mtb1eDpDELld9SrL5harA_xnqMShnciuV/s2048/Protest+days+Bill+Lee+PYM+Agnew+demo+Shadbolt+Feb+2021+001b.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1865" data-original-width="2048" height="582" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgENQqlpESn6vw-6AvnESQxeOXVhhX3SRTE0IDEdWFxV-ofY5BstaujZ67SEA9F0UKbJhXKbOvodmeWW6T_f-0YVlhoQm2z6ja1TR167IBCSU7mtb1eDpDELld9SrL5harA_xnqMShnciuV/w640-h582/Protest+days+Bill+Lee+PYM+Agnew+demo+Shadbolt+Feb+2021+001b.jpg" width="640" /></span></a></div><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span><p></p><p align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 0.04cm; margin-right: -0.04cm;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">In Bullshit and Jelly Beans, Tim Shadbolt gave a pretty good account of the protest days. In the images</span></p><p align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 0.04cm; margin-right: -0.04cm;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">of the Agnrew protest where Dic Fowler (Rewi Kemp) was filming I started to attempt to photograph the Police as they charged and brutally attacked anyone they could get their hands on. They even beat up journalists. They kicked and punched anyone: women, old people, young men. They were cursing and repeating pro American crap -- say how they had fought in the US initiated Korean War (which the press also lied about until people believed that Korea attacked itself, the Press, including the NZ Herald repeated US Propaganda about the Vietnam war, how terrible China was (it wasn't, it was and still is a great nation) -- a soldier had come to our school where we had (ridiculous) army "training": he said we needed skills for war against the spread of Communism). The Herald had pictures of countries falling to Communism -- this was their graphical depiction of the US theory of the domino effect. Countries would fall like Dominos. Meanwhile they had become and have remained the major terrrorist nation in the world. Going right back to the fanatical (Hitlerian) speeches of the virulently anti-Communist (because Catholic) President Kennedy who nearly precipitated a World War over missiles in Cuba. Kennedy's and the US and other Liberal-Bourgeois Capitalist nations were all anti-Communist --- this worked well for them as Revisionism in the USSR meant the corruption of the democratic and socialistic ideas and ideals of those who wanted positive changes, an end to wars. It was Dick who pointed out a re-done picture of Lenin standing addressing the Russian people. The painting had two versions. Already Socialism, the peoples' Republic, had begun to fail, and become a terrorist state and then simply another pseudo-Communist to Capitalist dictatorship. Kennedy had increased commitment to Vietnam and the US had missiles in Turkey (all described by Bertrand Russell in 'War Crimes in Vietnam'). Already under Eisenhower the US were working with the French in Vietnam. Agnew wanted more support for more bombing. But as Barry Lee's PhD on the PYM shows the result of the protest in 1970 (it was published by 'rogue' Herald journos who were sacked for telling truth (according to Len Parker who I met again fairly recently in Ellerslie. Len ran the then Progressive Book Shop.....It all backfired and after this protest the word spread of it and of the insane violence of the police, as well as the scenes of the war that had begun to be seen more and more on television, and because of world wide protests....numbers of people increased dramatically. People from all walks of life began huge marches in Auckland and elsewhere against the American War. Dick Fowler's film was like the series of shots seen here (it may be the same). Dick was punched in the jaw* but he did a backward roll and continued filming. We later saw the film of the police attack at The Big Pink and the big blur as he rolled and then the film continued. Courage by Dick, or as he later became, Rewi Kemp, was great. </span></p><p align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 0.04cm; margin-right: -0.04cm;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><span style="text-align: left;"> *True or not, I feel it is. Perhaps I can make a comparison to an essay by Steven Jay Gould (I read by chance recently), and the famous encounter between Wilberforce and Huxley as r</span><span style="text-align: left;">eported was shown to be dubious or 'too pat' as (Gould outs it in 'Bully for Brontosaurus') by Gould and others he quotes. But the gist of it </span><span style="text-align: left;">is perhaps 'true'. And Rewi / Dick's story is too good for me to care if it is "true". What is, in history? </span></span></p><p align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 0.04cm; margin-right: -0.04cm;"><span style="font-size: x-large; text-align: left;"><br /></span></p><p align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 0.04cm; margin-right: -0.04cm;"><span style="font-size: x-large; text-align: left;"> </span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZZ2YgND0sLlcNR1HE4sVC5JXko_LKpcKrths4YjOWwGgxZ0A50p4hq1v788NDtYDQdNNvyBQMu-lrU1sNOd5dbmVhNvmQ6mP55JC0FtYha1JlB6MmVIQ3GfwPJo7We3FMDyl832OZQTkI/s2048/Protest+days+Bill+Lee+PYM+Agnew+demo+Shadbolt+Feb+2021+005b.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1920" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZZ2YgND0sLlcNR1HE4sVC5JXko_LKpcKrths4YjOWwGgxZ0A50p4hq1v788NDtYDQdNNvyBQMu-lrU1sNOd5dbmVhNvmQ6mP55JC0FtYha1JlB6MmVIQ3GfwPJo7We3FMDyl832OZQTkI/s320/Protest+days+Bill+Lee+PYM+Agnew+demo+Shadbolt+Feb+2021+005b.jpg" /></span></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></div><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQt9EscmBNpzKeDOOvaUNFAMT3sVWZz7KRtwfM92Vuc-2wqdaUBuKJn6KVezEOaO5Q4T6T8l6alzSxO9NbVBi-1S_buG_60wk6fGYhX8r1gwQecYpscr94IrjtSrD8UQ6MIhty-vyUfVOm/s2048/Protest+days+Bill+Lee+PYM+Agnew+demo+Shadbolt+Feb+2021+006b.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1512" data-original-width="2048" height="295" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQt9EscmBNpzKeDOOvaUNFAMT3sVWZz7KRtwfM92Vuc-2wqdaUBuKJn6KVezEOaO5Q4T6T8l6alzSxO9NbVBi-1S_buG_60wk6fGYhX8r1gwQecYpscr94IrjtSrD8UQ6MIhty-vyUfVOm/w400-h295/Protest+days+Bill+Lee+PYM+Agnew+demo+Shadbolt+Feb+2021+006b.jpg" width="400" /></span></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></div><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2PL0Ex_IPo0fxg7KE1WsTj5Y6fu7eEZhaiIk2sZR-fENRv4EzsZh_oCR9Q5-fA4ohheZSY3zr-KVf8HJxLWJfZf4UGNtVB8iYj6BwmO_XQssTtLlTO_azNwIs4Hj4B9UvThUVw8T7UydZ/s2048/Protest+days+Bill+Lee+PYM+Agnew+demo+Shadbolt+Feb+2021+005b.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1920" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2PL0Ex_IPo0fxg7KE1WsTj5Y6fu7eEZhaiIk2sZR-fENRv4EzsZh_oCR9Q5-fA4ohheZSY3zr-KVf8HJxLWJfZf4UGNtVB8iYj6BwmO_XQssTtLlTO_azNwIs4Hj4B9UvThUVw8T7UydZ/s320/Protest+days+Bill+Lee+PYM+Agnew+demo+Shadbolt+Feb+2021+005b.jpg" /></span></a></div><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhj-ZE5YhlISOyO5Zg-Cuagzp5-XnmdVYxyzHkct0Ng80bG6aCEgWElEw1ckCXtJDynvwasL6UY-UmYhW_POKzpjIHNih2TVMfsyJFW7Fu2v04H2B70N9r-dPC24RdaRuDe8XC4-5CGSLZ4/s3888/Protest+days+Bill+Lee+PYM+Agnew+demo+Shadbolt+Feb+2021+003.JPG" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3888" data-original-width="3888" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhj-ZE5YhlISOyO5Zg-Cuagzp5-XnmdVYxyzHkct0Ng80bG6aCEgWElEw1ckCXtJDynvwasL6UY-UmYhW_POKzpjIHNih2TVMfsyJFW7Fu2v04H2B70N9r-dPC24RdaRuDe8XC4-5CGSLZ4/w400-h400/Protest+days+Bill+Lee+PYM+Agnew+demo+Shadbolt+Feb+2021+003.JPG" width="400" /></span></a></div><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhcuM1T14hyVIE7fEFvOrDL0c7GUskMSwulbUi7m0WssTvfxrpVXLv2P-_qRpXpLM0baTg0py1ko1N3Pk5ryFNOYC13XRkRuN43qS7F8-UBt-FnsYOBxPZ1USpZDG96w_KLA7K4qXfs5Uhv/s2048/Protest+days+Bill+Lee+PYM+Agnew+demo+Shadbolt+Feb+2021+004b.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; 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</span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjU1dxMlgQGWg2XMyhyktlHr8KBGzYjI-GPRWtA-8F4NqoLsoobhI88nL-B1SfT5wWPuTwFIwobIQGiC7pCt9qJigPnAWuVwnc7WZ8Pj-mFSRHjR348Slzey0GpC3GEW8teiIM1DP3s84Bq/s2048/Protest+days+Bill+Lee+PYM+Agnew+demo+Shadbolt+Feb+2021+010b.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1554" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjU1dxMlgQGWg2XMyhyktlHr8KBGzYjI-GPRWtA-8F4NqoLsoobhI88nL-B1SfT5wWPuTwFIwobIQGiC7pCt9qJigPnAWuVwnc7WZ8Pj-mFSRHjR348Slzey0GpC3GEW8teiIM1DP3s84Bq/s320/Protest+days+Bill+Lee+PYM+Agnew+demo+Shadbolt+Feb+2021+010b.jpg" /></span></a></div><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYgYiEvKe6GQQfcizZ-vAHKTSlYlrwbecF7ohpZDk1G3YkV6katPcFMMrjYVDRUmR-VmGQr3xMsXtPvs8EcQyUaiBH5WeN-5npZ4fy3auuMnqLdC6jYzzf2214CjDo92dEO4J-mhmTIzbK/s2048/Protest+days+Bill+Lee+PYM+Agnew+demo+Shadbolt+Feb+2021+009b.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1695" data-original-width="2048" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYgYiEvKe6GQQfcizZ-vAHKTSlYlrwbecF7ohpZDk1G3YkV6katPcFMMrjYVDRUmR-VmGQr3xMsXtPvs8EcQyUaiBH5WeN-5npZ4fy3auuMnqLdC6jYzzf2214CjDo92dEO4J-mhmTIzbK/s320/Protest+days+Bill+Lee+PYM+Agnew+demo+Shadbolt+Feb+2021+009b.jpg" width="320" /></span></a></div><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDhrDaPpneOS4amxYvim1ewxvua2R_GPZoxgQeD_1oTu_gPfGt78zO-ypYC7cUOK9sKf6STDu-NBTdXlnWKVVjMdVKZnDD_fcP1ovKyPgbpQwpzoQJ3roWyCuLayKuiZRdEaTnr0VYfRp9/s2048/Protest+days+Bill+Lee+PYM+Agnew+demo+Shadbolt+Feb+2021+008D.jpg" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1192" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDhrDaPpneOS4amxYvim1ewxvua2R_GPZoxgQeD_1oTu_gPfGt78zO-ypYC7cUOK9sKf6STDu-NBTdXlnWKVVjMdVKZnDD_fcP1ovKyPgbpQwpzoQJ3roWyCuLayKuiZRdEaTnr0VYfRp9/w372-h640/Protest+days+Bill+Lee+PYM+Agnew+demo+Shadbolt+Feb+2021+008D.jpg" width="372" /></span></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"></td></tr></tbody></table><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">I can be seen as I am standing at the front with my Pentax, which I felt was useless</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">but I continued to photograph to give an impression I was getting police IDs but</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">I never mastered night shots. In fact I never fully mastered photography. In the</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">pictures each frame is only a few seconds. This is the Agnew Protests at the corner</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">of Government House (edge of the Auckland University) opposite the then Hotel</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">Intercontinental. It is 11. am 1970 and the Police Seargent asked us to move,</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">then they started moving in, I protested that no time to communicate this order</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">had been given, but playing up for the US Secret Police and their "US Masters" the</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">Police, of which there were more than 1000, charged in. I am seen there for a few</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">seconds until I decide to adopt Falstaff's philosophy. </span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">I was unhurt, but many others were terribly injured and terrorised by the </span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">police. They were like rabid dogs. Running dogs as Mao would call them.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">Rewi was filming the entire event and refused to move.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3z3HiJUF9xXV5FWXWAm-AKEBRiED0ABou8fgO07zkCfxRzhfhTcWDKMCkvSJIzvq955qNF3uAXGwuew3bAJu9SeNRMnTJkVd4ejAjLd3lR6IWgmCy1anP9aAzKwU7zZN4p8mWru7yeegu/s2048/Protest+days+Bill+Lee+PYM+Agnew+demo+Shadbolt+Feb+2021+008b.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1192" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3z3HiJUF9xXV5FWXWAm-AKEBRiED0ABou8fgO07zkCfxRzhfhTcWDKMCkvSJIzvq955qNF3uAXGwuew3bAJu9SeNRMnTJkVd4ejAjLd3lR6IWgmCy1anP9aAzKwU7zZN4p8mWru7yeegu/w233-h400/Protest+days+Bill+Lee+PYM+Agnew+demo+Shadbolt+Feb+2021+008b.jpg" width="233" /></span></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">Images from 'Bullshit and Jelly Beans' by Tim Shadbolt.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghufgnRcVRsyinDTKYo2CKy-uGA6PzQhg0KolWcIe01ieopIANqdkBNkayxc424B9Da_0Eg4il7VzYxj4Aq2BE0UF8rMXmNGzL5kIixB6SUi6yo-N6ddcTSL2dnOe4tJHDGLvOK4F7tF1v/s2048/Protest+days+Bill+Lee+PYM+Agnew+demo+Shadbolt+Feb+2021+012b.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1642" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghufgnRcVRsyinDTKYo2CKy-uGA6PzQhg0KolWcIe01ieopIANqdkBNkayxc424B9Da_0Eg4il7VzYxj4Aq2BE0UF8rMXmNGzL5kIixB6SUi6yo-N6ddcTSL2dnOe4tJHDGLvOK4F7tF1v/w514-h640/Protest+days+Bill+Lee+PYM+Agnew+demo+Shadbolt+Feb+2021+012b.jpg" width="514" /></span></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></div><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiUKLtHHXw7RZSP7Runz_Lli_PE6sA4dFR1YQL36hkTbOgEZZw8l9pGa8tSg0ZCC5d5e8IggdjCx_SBi5HGc9l-qN2XlpU7ZraWK9aoM9tbfD5sZjrSg-TLGt8JK8hnTlxCBsYMKPqA5EG3/s2048/Protest+days+Bill+Lee+PYM+Agnew+demo+Shadbolt+Feb+2021+011c.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="2048" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiUKLtHHXw7RZSP7Runz_Lli_PE6sA4dFR1YQL36hkTbOgEZZw8l9pGa8tSg0ZCC5d5e8IggdjCx_SBi5HGc9l-qN2XlpU7ZraWK9aoM9tbfD5sZjrSg-TLGt8JK8hnTlxCBsYMKPqA5EG3/w400-h400/Protest+days+Bill+Lee+PYM+Agnew+demo+Shadbolt+Feb+2021+011c.jpg" width="400" /></span></a></div><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">We triumph. The forces of Reaction are beaten.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></div>
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<p align="JUSTIFY" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 0.04cm; margin-right: -0.04cm;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></p><p align="JUSTIFY" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 0.04cm; margin-right: -0.04cm;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></p><p align="JUSTIFY" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 0.04cm; margin-right: -0.04cm;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></p><p align="JUSTIFY" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 0.04cm; margin-right: -0.04cm;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></p><p align="JUSTIFY" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 0.04cm; margin-right: -0.04cm;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">The PYM is seen here stronger than ever. The fascist US-NZ and NZ-Police attempts to suppress and <span style="text-align: left;">terrorise the people of the World had failed. New Zealand's grovel to the United States had not ended but the Vietnamese beat the United States. Capitalism-Fascism had failed. Part of this was due to the world wide protest movements and the stupidity of police forces and of Capitalism itself. The rest was the immense courage and ingenuity of the great Vietnamese Liberation fighters who defeated the French twice, the Japanese, and the United States. Around the same time the French lost their Algerian colony. The British and French had already lost India, Egypt and many other colonies. Spain was still a fascist dictatorship. There were and still are very few democracies in the World. Nevertheless the American Wars against Korea, China and Vietnam had failed. </span></span></p><p align="JUSTIFY" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 0.04cm; margin-right: -0.04cm;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></p><p align="JUSTIFY" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 0.04cm; margin-right: -0.04cm;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">
KEMP, Rewi Died at home following a long term illness on Saturday
28th November 2015. Highly creative; Liked and designed aesthetically
attractive things that use less or no fuel; Designer of the Foilcat;
A foundation member of PYM. Rewi loved to help people and always
stood staunch for what he believed was right for self and others. He
inspired and thought provoked everyone with whom he came in contact,
with his quick intellect and quirky wit. He is loved and treasured in
Janet's heart for being her best friend, confidante and fellow
dreamer of projects and of a harmonious world. Friends and family are
warmly invited to celebrate Rewi's life at 11:30am on Saturday 5th
December at their new home in Whangarei.
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<p style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">
</span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirxl_Wt6Uaspjow7NBr8oMmNgqISUIHfeuBfxif4ArsBGQM3LPzQWLWyqEUqyAajBrHDvNoWaUvZATu1TIQMEZ6jVI0P8eR_wsKly3D8o_NglAY8v7Vt51p1GV0ZXk70za1e2MXjbgR1JU/s346/Rewi+Kemp+%2528Dick+Fowler%2529.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><img border="0" data-original-height="267" data-original-width="346" height="309" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirxl_Wt6Uaspjow7NBr8oMmNgqISUIHfeuBfxif4ArsBGQM3LPzQWLWyqEUqyAajBrHDvNoWaUvZATu1TIQMEZ6jVI0P8eR_wsKly3D8o_NglAY8v7Vt51p1GV0ZXk70za1e2MXjbgR1JU/w400-h309/Rewi+Kemp+%2528Dick+Fowler%2529.jpg" width="400" /></span></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">Rewi Kemp ca. 2008</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">Later in like I lost contact (to some extent) with Rewi and his mother.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">But we kept seeing Mrs Fowler and took our children to her parties for kids.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">Rewi had filled out and around 1986 had a girlfriend. He showed my son and I </span><span style="font-size: xx-large;">a video of his trimaran or what is called here a Foil Cat. Since learning to sail </span><span style="font-size: xx-large;">from a book in England and sailing P-Class Yachts he kept a passion for ships and</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">his sailing adventures were real. He got married to Janet Dougherty. I had </span><span style="font-size: xx-large;">seen him and his sister Anna and her husband Barry Lee at a memorial where</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">I also saw Jack Gabolinsky, a long time radical, and Ray Gough who I knew </span><span style="font-size: xx-large;">at the Railway Workshops. Ray lent me the book that changed my life (Rape</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">of Vietnam, by Harold Slingsby.) There is a video extant showing Rewi </span><span style="font-size: xx-large;">in his Foil Cat. At the Memorial Rewi seemed quite good, but he was very </span><span style="font-size: xx-large;">passionate against a law that was to be passed on trade and the implications </span><span style="font-size: xx-large;">of that. He was adamant it was wrong and spoke strongly to me then kind of </span><span style="font-size: xx-large;">retreated and sat down. There was no sign he was ill but he seemed a bit </span><span style="font-size: xx-large;">unsteady after his rage against (then John Key). He and his sister told amusing </span><span style="font-size: xx-large;">stories showing the courage of their own mother looking after two young </span><span style="font-size: xx-large;">children in England, and taking them around London in a pram -- but they </span><span style="font-size: xx-large;">had come from a relatively 'upper class' and educated family. Rewi told </span><span style="font-size: xx-large;">of his mother's "rebellion" against her uncle and how she read books he had </span><span style="font-size: xx-large;">told her she either couldn't as a woman or a child but she defied him.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><span style="background-color: #fff2cc; color: #2b00fe; font-size: x-large;"><b>Below is Rewi's Foil Cat. </b></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">As well as the 'militant' committed Rewi he was always gentle at base. He was not someone to hurt people. He hated injustice and war. He loved learning. Meeting Rewi and his mother Mrs Fowler (who was also much loved as a teacher and an activist in many things) had a profound effect on my life. After hearing of his death, not so long after his own mother's, in our local library, telling it to my son as we sat down to have our lunch after our daily walk, I told my son Victor who had met Rewi, and then it hit me and I cried. A great friend and a great time had passed. Victor was surprised. Informing Jim "Ant" Dolimore on the phone we agreed he was a remarkable being. </span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">There is more to come until I post this and then let people know. </span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEipcfOhogQbKNsxyL_6RW7tHtCWsoJfPgMNen9LGJ8eqFbEPdEbeUPpU1JPiAWcqhS9Mhq8sla5J8rX-6eEv-hnKNodqhmlclcmRMvWere2YfUgRt5t0OiWj1nYslOkoCMbDvQ5C3aUVZ5V/s350/Rewi+Kemp+FOIL+CAT.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><img border="0" data-original-height="192" data-original-width="350" height="352" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEipcfOhogQbKNsxyL_6RW7tHtCWsoJfPgMNen9LGJ8eqFbEPdEbeUPpU1JPiAWcqhS9Mhq8sla5J8rX-6eEv-hnKNodqhmlclcmRMvWere2YfUgRt5t0OiWj1nYslOkoCMbDvQ5C3aUVZ5V/w640-h352/Rewi+Kemp+FOIL+CAT.jpg" width="640" /></span></a></div><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">Rewi Kemp (Dick Fowler) was passionate about sailing and boat and yacht design. He was also something of an adventurer. This is the Foil Cat he designed and built.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">Whatever Rewi (Dick)'s faults, he loved these -- ships and the sea in general, and also</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">trimarans. In the "protest days", driving Bill Lee's 'Truimph Renown' we all went of I know not where, but when we came to a small marina with all kinds of yachts and boats, all of us had to stop</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">to admire the trimarans etc. Of all Rewi's wide interests he zeroeed into the sea. He got me my one</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">time actually sailing in a yacht, we all learnt fast. Later the NZ Navy took some interest.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">And he had his faults. Gradually as he got married he seemed, I hope, more settled. </span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">Around this time another extraordinary friend, one Kaio Rivers died. Kaiao was of course</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">Kaiao Awarau. His brother was accused of a brutal sex offense. But for all his faults, this</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">Moosbruger* character (who was also a fighter for workers and Maori rights</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">*A murderer in Robert Musil's three volume novel set in pre and through the war times. He is</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">symbolic of what? Something both terrible but true; (some 'moral emptiness' shall we say -- but so is all of European culture -- nay, all of Human culture .... </span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">and indeed the main character, Ulrich is eerily like myself or indeed like Kaio, Kaio's brother Mungu,</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">and Rewi (he was, like me of English parentage but perhaps having a great-grandfather (and probably a g-g-mother who was also Jewish, has some significance.....</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">but we cant escape into these simplistic interpretations of time and destiny - we are all</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">of the same human or animal stuff. We are or shouldn't be, such alien to ourselves or</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">others; we all suffer in many ways and we are all capable of immense joyfulness...</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">And as I read this I know many of my friends and acquaintances have died. It will indeed one day</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">be my turn as they say. Death and taxes. Ted Jenner, poet and classicist and friend I could talk of writing and poetry died this year in July. My friend, who got my books, my dear and kind friend</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">Gary Dudley, with his silly sense of humour, his absolute honesty and kindness, died suddenly </span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">a few years ago. I respected his belief in God. His goodness. Others have gone. But this is the way </span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">of life. Leicester Kyle, ex priest, poet, amateur biologist, and great friend, who could be very funny</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">but also had such deep insight, died in 2006, and Brett Lewis, book dealer, film critic, lover of wine and life, and travel, took his own life that year. Many others..... </span></div><p style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></p><p style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></p>
<p style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br />
</span></p>
<p style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><a name="ctl00_MainContentPlaceholder_PublishedLineOnline"></a>
Published in The New Zealand Herald on Dec. 1, 2015 <span style="font-style: normal;">
</span>
</span></p>
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</p>
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<span style="font-size: x-large;"><i> </i>
</span></p>
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</p>
<p style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br />
</span></p>
<p style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">*This was a regular magazine produced
by the NZ Communist Party.</span></p>
<p style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br />
</span></p>
<p style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">** I remarked on this book to Ron
Riddell's brother about 1995 when working at Ron's bookshop The Dead
Poet's Book Store, then in Balmoral -- I mentioned the complete
absence of any reference in his book, despite, with Hickman, who is
in, he had basically designed and engineered Peach Products, and set
up the Beef House, and worked to keep various pig farms in good
condition, as well as urged against destroying, for example, the
beautiful Parnell Butcher Shop. Alistair, a well known musician, and
brother of Ron -- was less than flattering about the energy and dedication of Scott who his father had financed to go
to Fiji, for example. It was found he was "living it up"
and not much had been done. Scott wrote some good books ('151 Days',
and 'Parihaka' which I have). How true this was I don't know. My
father retired from there about 1974. But he was a significant part
of things.</span></p>
<p><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /><br />
</span></p>
<p><span style="font-size: x-large;">Nota Bene -- make a list of significant names and maybe use
photographs of Scott's book, etc.
</span></p></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></div><span style="font-size: x-large;">ADDENDUM --- <span style="color: #ff00fe; font-family: georgia;">On the Why of Protest. </span></span><div><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-size: x-large;"><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> Based among other things on</span></span></div><div><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-size: x-large;"> <i> <span style="color: red;"><b>An Intimate History of Killing</b></span></i><span style="color: red;"><b> by Joanna Bourke.</b></span></span></div><div><span style="color: red; font-size: x-large;"><b><br /></b></span></div><div><span style="color: red; font-size: x-large;"><b><br /></b></span></div><div><p style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"> </p>
<p style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"> Vietnam War (Killing in War) October
the 31<sup>st</sup> 2021</span></p>
<p style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br />
</span></p>
<p style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br />
</span></p>
<p style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"> From 'War Crimes' in An Illustrated
History of Killing by Joanna Burke.</span></p>
<p style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br />
</span></p>
<p align="JUSTIFY" style="break-before: auto; margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 0.44cm; margin-right: 0.33cm; page-break-before: auto;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">
'Rusty' Calley felt no remorse for slaughtering hundreds of old men,
women and children in one day in March 1968: after all, 'what the
hell else is war that killing people?' From the start, he just could
not understand why such a fuss was being made. When he was first
accused of mass murder, he incredulous:</span></p>
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<span style="font-size: x-large;"><br />
</span></p>
<p align="JUSTIFY" style="break-before: auto; margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 1.72cm; margin-right: 1.72cm; page-break-before: auto;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">
I couldn't understand it. I kept thinking though. I thought, <i>Could
it be I did somehing wrong?</i> I knew that war's wrong. Killing's
wrong: I realized that. I had gone to a war though. I had killed, but
I knew <i>So did a million others.</i> I sat there, and I couldn't
find the key. I pictured the people of My Lai: the bodiesm, and they
didn' bother me. I had found, I had closed with, I had destroyed the
VC: the mission that day, I thought, <i>It couldn't be wrong or I'd
have remorse about it.</i></span></p>
<p align="JUSTIFY" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 0.44cm; margin-right: 0.33cm;">
</p>
<p align="JUSTIFY" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 0.44cm; margin-right: 0.33cm;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">
But Lieutenant William L. Calley was tried by a jury if six combat
veterans, charged with violating Article 118, Murder, of the Uniform
Code of Military Justice. At the end of March 1971, after hearing the
testimony over a hundred witnesses, he was convicted and sentenced to
loss of all pay, dismissal from the army, and confinement with hard
labour for life for premeditated murder,
</span></p>
<p align="JUSTIFY" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 0.44cm; margin-right: 0.33cm;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">
The massacre had begun just after eight o'clock on the morning of
16 March 1968 when 105 soldiers of Charlie Company, 11<sup>th</sup>
Brigade of the American Division, entered the small village of My Son
(known to the Americans as My Lai and thought to be the base of the
48<sup>th</sup> Viet Cong Local Forces Battalian) in the San Tinh
District, Quang Ngai Province, on the north-eastern coast of South
Vietnam near the South China Sea. By the time Calley and his men had
sat down to lunch, they had rounded up and slaughtered around 500
unarmed civilians. Within those few hours, members of Charlie Company
had 'fooled around' and laughed as they sodomized and raped women,
ripped vaginas open with knives, bayoneted civilians, scalped corpses
and carved 'C Company' or the ace of spades on to their chests,
slaughtered animals and torched hooches. Other soldiers had wept
openly as they opened fire on unresisting old men, women, children
and babies. At no stage did these soldiers receive any enemy fire or
encoutner any form of resistance save fervent pleadings. Yet, they
were 'only' obeying orders, doing their duty, and – they reasoned –
even little babies could be Viet Cong ('I thought,' Paul Meadlo
testified, 'they had some sort of chain or a little string they had
to give a little pull and they blow us up'). After the massacre the
soldiers of C Company burned their way through a few other villages,
eventually reaching the seashore where they stripped and jumped into
the surf. A year later Private First Class Michael Bernhardt
remembered that there had been no sense of hangover in the company,
no brooding over rights and wrongs. If you told them a year ago that
they were going to be on trial, maybe for their lives, they wouldn't
have believed you. It would have been so fantastic.</span></p>
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<span style="font-size: x-large;"><br />
</span></p>
<p align="JUSTIFY" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 0.44cm; margin-right: 0.33cm;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">
This report into rape and murder in Vietnam echoes the terrible
acts of other wars and no men of any nation have been exempt from
these things. The 'breakdown' of any moral laws was seen in Vietnam
which eptitomized an inherent flaw in notions of 'nobility in war,
that we fight for freedom and justice, and many other platitudes'.
War is always terrible. But we cannot look at all war, we can
extrapolate. Some changes have come, and could come, via the UN rules
for war etc. The Vietnam war as seen in <i>Rape of Vietnam</i>, and
<i>Air War in Vietnam</i> and Jonna Bourke's analysis and other books
is revealing of something deeply horrific that makes it seem
</span></p>
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<span style="font-size: x-large;"><br />
</span></p>
<p align="JUSTIFY" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 0.44cm; margin-right: 0.33cm;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">
almost impossible to believe in, well, anything. This is a vast
subject but this reality, this butchery was only (not only in the
Vietnam War which some Vietnamese call The American War), but
potentially in all wars. It not only calls for protest but can shock
us into silence. There is felt a dark suspicion that humans are
inherently 'failed' things. These thoughts are mine now, many years
after the progress. One thing I cant claim to, and that is to have
actually been in a war. I have and never had any desire to take part
in war, I hate guns and even killing animals as people do for sport.
But I know that anyone is capable of anything.
</span></p>
<p align="JUSTIFY" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 0.44cm; margin-right: 0.33cm;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">
But in 'The Days of the Protests' I felt there was some hope in
rational progress, say of socialism, and saw this as some thing a
better political system might change. But here is a bit more on the
Calley incident:</span></p>
<p align="JUSTIFY" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 0.44cm; margin-right: 0.33cm;">
<span style="font-size: x-large;"><br />
</span></p>
<p align="JUSTIFY" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 0.44cm; margin-right: 0.33cm;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">
Bourke discusses the legal and ethical complexities of how to
define responsibility with chains of command. This is good. Her book
is worth reading.</span></p>
<p align="JUSTIFY" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 0.44cm; margin-right: 0.33cm;">
</p>
<p align="JUSTIFY" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 0.44cm; margin-right: 0.33cm;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">
But during the Vietnam war:
</span></p>
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</p>
<p align="JUSTIFY" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 0.44cm; margin-right: 0.33cm;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">
Rape, torture, and murder were frequently reported. By the late
1960s, when bitter disillusionment with the conflict was increasing,
numerous Vietnam veterans 'bore witness' to atrocities in mass public
rallies. In one such event – known as the 'Winter Soldier
Investigation' of January and February 1971 – over one hundred
veterans publically confessed to witnessing or taking part in
atrocities....</span></p>
<p align="JUSTIFY" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 0.44cm; margin-right: 0.33cm;">
<span style="font-size: x-large;"><br />
</span></p>
<p align="JUSTIFY" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 0.44cm; margin-right: 0.33cm;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">
Mostly it is men are the combatents in wars, but Bourke's large
book on war (many wars) shows that in all, atrocities occur, but that
many cannot or try not to take part. Some cannot fire at an enemy
regardless. Others go mad from guilt or trauma – and in Vietnam
undoubtedly the shock and trauma of war caused deep psychoses or long
lasting despair and indeed it seems that in both world wars, a huge
proportion of combatents (of whatever 'side' were deeply affected or
psychologically crippled for life.) Have we learnt from these wars?
It might be, we would like to believe it. But here is more on the
resultant of the Calley incident:
</span></p>
<p align="JUSTIFY" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 0.44cm; margin-right: 0.33cm;">
<span style="font-size: x-large;"><br />
</span></p>
<p align="JUSTIFY" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 0.44cm; margin-right: 0.33cm;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">
Rape, torture and murder were frequently reported. By the late
1960s....there were mass rallies. In one such event – known as the
'Winter Soldier Investigation' of January and February 1971 – over
one hundred veterans publically confessed to witnessing or taking
part in atrocities. Their message was clear: war crimes in Vietnam
did not start (or finish) with Charlie Company in March 1968 but were
common practice within other army and marine divisions as well.
Sociological studies attempted to quantify these statements,
confirming that all men who had been involved in 'heavy combat',
around a third of those who had been involved in 'moderate combat',
and 8 per cent of those who had seen 'light combat' had witnessed
atrocities or had helped murder non-combatents. Even senior military
officials were forced to admit to a failure to enforce the
regulations: a survey of 108 US Army general officers who had served
in Vietnam revealed that less that one fifth believed that the rules
of engagement had been 'carefully adhered to throughout the chain of
command'. Almost 15 per cent claimed that they were 'not particularly
considered in the day-to-day conduct of war'. Certain groups were
more liable to report seeing or participating in atrocities than
others. Striking differences emerge from a comparison between members
of Veterans of Foreign Wars (who tended to be conservative) and men
belonging to the Vietnam Veterans Against War (who were more anti-war
and left- wing). Veterans of Foreign Wars were undecided about how
frequently atrocities occurred, although 43 per cent claimed that the
My Lai atrocity was 'an isolated incident' compared with only 7 per
cent of Vietnam Veterans Against the War. Eighty-six per cent of
Vietnam Veterans Against the War believed that what happened at My
Lai was common of 'one of many similar incidents', while only 27 per
cent of the other group agreed. When asked if they had ever
</span></p>
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<span style="font-size: x-large;"><br />
</span></p>
<p align="JUSTIFY" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 0.44cm; margin-right: 0.33cm;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">
witnessed the shooting of civilians, twice as many (40 per cent) of
Vietnam Veterans Against the War replied 'yes'.
</span></p>
<p align="JUSTIFY" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 0.44cm; margin-right: 0.33cm;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">
Undeniably the Vietnam War was especially lawless, but nevertheless
one should not imagine that there was too wide a chasm between
'atrocious Vietnam', and other, 'more civilised' conflicts. There are
three reasons why the Vietnam War has been singled out as unusually
bloodthirsty. First, combatants who served in Vietnam were much more
willing to admit to atrocities, whether boastfully or humbly. The
fashionably self-conscious, psychoanalytical style of war memoirs
emering in the 1960s encouraged a more confessional rendering of
battle stories. In reminiscences, the wanton slaughter of
non-combatents during the two world wars could be treated as evidence
of the beastliness of war, best not dwelt upon: during the war in
Vietnam, it became an 'atrocity' committed by recognizable
consciences seeking relief. Secondly the chief difference between the
avid attention given to the killing of non-combatants in Vietnam
compared with the disinterested mention of atrocities committed
before 1945 was that the world wars could be portrayed as 'holy' or
'just' wars: in contrast, the widespread disenchantment with the
conduct of the war in Vietnam rendered the suffering caused by that
conflict painfully audible. Finally, many groups and institutions
[had a political or moral agenda in portraying the war as
extraordinarily terrible … and others could divert their own guilt
of war by this also]....For all commentators, 'the problem' became
Vietnam, rather than themselves.</span></p>
<p align="JUSTIFY" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 0.44cm; margin-right: 0.33cm;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">
It is clear, however that although Vietnam has come to represent
the 'atrocious' in warfare, massacres have a long history in each of
the three cultures examined in this book – particularly in the
context of conflict with indigenous peoples and in the colonial
empires. Even if we focus only on face-to-face atrocities.....[she
doesn't discuss the bombing of Europe by the Allies in 1942-5 or the
bombing of Vietnam which both have become, proleptically, to be
mooted as war crimes], it is not surprising that during the two world
wars [It is implied that these things are universal, hence the
Japanese, Germans and endless others are omitted, and the Holocaust
is not unique, not something special. [It could well be repeated even
by the Isaelis, despite their excuses for their enthusiasm for
gobbling up Palestinian land and their fear perhaps of 'another
Holocaust'. But that is in danger of becoming something almost
quaint, especially in the light of Bourke's revelations.] But that
(the actions of the Axis powers etc) is left out by Bourke I presume
in part as data was easier to collate from the Allied armies etc];
(during these wars) British, American, and Australian troops also
illegally and 'in cold blood' slaughtered unarmed people. As the
Vice-Chief of Staff of the US Army, 1968-73 ominously argued:
Americans did indeed commit war crimes in the course of the
protracted Vietnam War, but no more in proportion to the numbers of
people involved than have occurred in past wars.</span></p>
<p align="JUSTIFY" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 0.44cm; margin-right: 0.33cm;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">
The killing of prisoners has always been a part of military
expediency. During the First World War, it was agreed that the good
soldier was the one who did not take prisoners. The magazine of the
Young Citizens Volunteers, the <i>Incinerator</i>, offered this
advice:
</span></p>
<p align="JUSTIFY" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 0.44cm; margin-right: 0.33cm;">
<span style="font-size: x-large;"><br />
</span></p>
<p align="JUSTIFY" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 0.44cm; margin-right: 0.33cm;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">
If a fat juicy Hun cries 'Mercy'! and speaks of his wife and
nine children, give him the</span></p>
<p align="JUSTIFY" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 0.44cm; margin-right: 0.33cm;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">
point – two inches is enough – and finish him. He is the
kind of man to have another nine 'Hate' children
if you let him off. So run no risks. [Ref. Given by Bourke.
Everything</span></p>
<p align="JUSTIFY" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 0.44cm; margin-right: 0.33cm;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">
quoted is sourced.]</span></p>
<p align="JUSTIFY" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 0.44cm; margin-right: 0.33cm;">
<span style="font-size: x-large;"><br />
</span></p>
<p align="JUSTIFY" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 0.44cm; margin-right: 0.33cm;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">
In the words of Captain Guy Warneford Nightingale (of the Royal
Munster Fusiliers), writing to his sister on 4 May 1915 from
Galipoli: 'we took 300 prisoners and could have taken more but we
preferred shooting them'. There were many reasons that the killing of
prisoners was coutenanced. Robert Graves, who believed that the
killing of prisoners was the main form of atrocity perpetrated by the
Allies) emphasized revenge for the death of comrades, jealousy that
the prisoner would be given a comfortable prison camp in England,
martial enthusiasm, or (probably the most common reason) simply
because the combatants were too lazy or impatient to escort prisoners
to safety. Fear and greed were also issues (prisoners could overpower
the guards and they consumed scarce food and water) as was sympathy
(a severely wounded prisoner might be put out of his misery). The
most powerful motive, however, was revenge.
</span></p>
<p align="JUSTIFY" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 0.44cm; margin-right: 0.33cm;">
</p>
<p align="JUSTIFY" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 0.44cm; margin-right: 0.33cm;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">
----------------------------------- ------------------------------
------------------------------------------------</span></p>
<p align="JUSTIFY" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 0.44cm; margin-right: 0.33cm;">
<span style="font-size: x-large;"><br />
</span></p>
<p align="JUSTIFY" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 0.44cm; margin-right: 0.33cm;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">
Massacres and terrible are inhumane acts are terrible. And in war
there are no 'good' people. People do things under great stress. What
is a way 'out'. In the end it us, who hold the gun, push the trigger,
we have to learn to not enter into these almost always useless,
horrific and stupid wars. Charlie Baker, the Communist who had
learned his Marxism in the British Army, told me some interesting
stories. Some were dramatic and interesting. Marching across the
desert beside their British tanks (he knew all the military vehicles,
and the numbers, the details) there would some times be the long wail
or scream of a shell and a Britsh tank would disappear into a
fireball. Later, in Germany, when the Germans used boys as their last
resort his ideology meant that he grabbed these Hitler Youth and took
them around to a wall, and executed them then and there. When hearing
this it fitted my own thinking that WWII was somehow a 'just war'.
Yes, the Nazis had to be stopped. But, in a deep sense, the
differences are not significant. Wars simply should not happen, nor
should poverty or inequality. They do. Possibly they are diminishing
but at the time this account by Charlie excited me. It seemed this
was a terrible, evil force was our opposition.
</span></p>
<p align="JUSTIFY" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 0.44cm; margin-right: 0.33cm;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">
Perhaps a 'true revolutionary war' as a 'last resort' can be seen
as valid. The Chinese had to drive off the Japanese. In doing so they
tried, or the leaders tried, to limit slaughter. The Nazis, like the
US had aims and ideologies as do everyone in a war. They blot out the
horror.
</span></p>
<p align="JUSTIFY" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 0.44cm; margin-right: 0.33cm;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">
We were opposed to war, had some dreams of revolutionary war, but
in the end it seems that some kind of mass action or actions have
done more. And protests and positive mass actions, mostly non-violent
compared to wars, have brought changes and influenced political
leaders as was shown by reports released. Our opposition to the
Vietnam War and other large social and political injustices (some
local) were in principle good things. But how did the case of Calley
proceed?</span></p>
<p align="JUSTIFY" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 0.44cm; margin-right: 0.33cm;">
</p>
<p align="JUSTIFY" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 0.44cm; margin-right: 0.33cm;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">
-------------------
-------------------------------------------------------
---------------------------------------</span></p>
<p align="JUSTIFY" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 0.44cm; margin-right: 0.33cm;">
<span style="font-size: x-large;"><br />
</span></p>
<p align="JUSTIFY" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 0.44cm; margin-right: 0.33cm;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">
Because there was widespread endorsement of certain atrocities within
the armed forces, the conviction of Calley outraged the military
community. Senior officers bombarded him with supportive letters and
(the night after the conviction) one hundred GIs paraded outside the
stockade at Fort Benning, chanting: 'War is Hell! Free Calley!' The
national commander of the Veterans of Foreign Wars, Herbert
Rainwater, was appalled, informing journalists that 'there have been
My Lais in every war. Now for the first time in our history we have
tried a soldier for performing his duty.' Many believed that the
higher command should take responsibility [Bourke quotes the example
of a high ranked Japanese General who had been executed for
attrocities....because of which General Westmoreland (the US Army
Chief of Staff) in this case -- could be held liable for the war
crimes committed by his troops....[despite the horrors of My Lai, it
was argued that Calley should never have been prosecuted....]</span></p>
<p align="JUSTIFY" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 0.44cm; margin-right: 0.33cm;">
<span style="font-size: x-large;"><br />
</span></p>
<p align="JUSTIFY" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 0.44cm; margin-right: 0.33cm;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">
American and Australian civilians... tended to respond to news of the
slaughter of 'enemy' non-combatants....by denial or resignation. When
the My Lai atrocity hit the headlines, many people even refused to
countenance that there had been a massacre. 'Our boys wouldn't do
this. Something else is behind it,' declared one man, or, in the
words of the governor of Alabama, 'I cant believe an American
serviceman would purposely shoot any civilian.... Any atrocities of
this war were caused by the Communists.' Others accepted the news
with a show of moral neutrality. A Time poll in 1970 found that two
thirds of people questioned denied being upset when they heard the
grisly story of the My Lai massacre: 'incidents such as this are
bound to happen in war', most of them reasoned.....</span></p>
<p align="JUSTIFY" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 0.44cm; margin-right: 0.33cm;">
<span style="font-size: x-large;"><br />
</span></p>
<p align="JUSTIFY" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 0.44cm; margin-right: 0.33cm;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">
The conviction of Calley, for premeditated murder...provoked [a
different response than to say
</span></p>
<p align="JUSTIFY" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 0.44cm; margin-right: 0.33cm;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">
breaking a traffic rule might]...Denial and resignation gave way to
fury. Draft boards in Arkansas, Florida, Kansas, [and many others]
... resigned in protest: flags were flown at half- mast in state
capitals throughout the nation, and veterans
organizations...collected money to appeal against the
conviction...President Nixon received over 100,000 letters and
telegrams within twenty-four hours of the announcement, practically
all demanding that Calley be released. Hundreds of thousands of 'Free
Calley' stickers were stuck to car bumpers [a song for Calley] sold
200,000 copies on the day of its release...[wide and exhaustive
surveys] found a majority support for Calley, despite his and his
soldiers killing children and old people and the raping and killing
of women and children....</span></p>
<p align="JUSTIFY" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 0.44cm; margin-right: 0.33cm;">
<span style="font-size: x-large;"><br />
</span></p>
<p align="JUSTIFY" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 0.44cm; margin-right: 0.33cm;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">
More importantly, the rationale that a combatant accused of war
crimes was 'only obeying orders' was regarded by the vast majority of
civilians as perfectly sensible. [Most people supported the idea
that shooting everyone who is an 'enemy' even if they were possibly
'innocent' (as they were still linked to the enemy) was justifiable,
it was completly justified to most people when they were asked if
they would annihilate an entire village or unresisting people who
were old, or women of any age, and or children of any age]*</span></p>
<p align="JUSTIFY" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 0.44cm; margin-right: 0.33cm;">
<span style="font-size: x-large;"><br />
</span></p>
<p align="JUSTIFY" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 0.44cm; margin-right: 0.33cm;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">
[During the trial the a number of the soldiers defending themselves,
or commenting, clearly didn't consider the Vietnamese to be human
beings.]</span></p>
<p align="JUSTIFY" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 0.44cm; margin-right: 0.33cm;">
<span style="font-size: x-large;"><br />
</span></p>
<p align="JUSTIFY" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 0.44cm; margin-right: 0.33cm;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">
[The net result was that Calley was jailed for a short time then he
was pardoned. Calley and his company's actions were not unusual in
Vietnam and indeed it is clear in any war. Punishment for war crimes
was selective, and did not apply to many [such as allies].
</span></p>
<p align="JUSTIFY" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 0.44cm; margin-right: 0.33cm;">
<span style="font-size: x-large;"><br />
</span></p>
<p align="JUSTIFY" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 0.44cm; margin-right: 0.33cm;">
<span style="font-size: x-large;"><br />
</span></p>
<p align="JUSTIFY" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 0.44cm; margin-right: 0.33cm;">
<span style="font-size: x-large;"><br />
</span></p>
<p align="JUSTIFY" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 0.44cm; margin-right: 0.33cm;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">
*There was a smaller proportion who would refuse to shoot (in a
hypothetical situation). In a 'hypothetical My Lai, the majority
said they would kill all people as ordered.
</span></p>
<p align="JUSTIFY" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 0.44cm; margin-right: 0.33cm;">
<span style="font-size: x-large;"><br />
</span></p>
<p align="JUSTIFY" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 0.44cm; margin-right: 0.33cm;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">
______________________________ _________________________
____________________</span></p>
<p align="JUSTIFY" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 0.44cm; margin-right: 0.33cm;">
<span style="font-size: x-large;"><br />
</span></p>
<p align="JUSTIFY" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 0.44cm; margin-right: 0.33cm;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">
Joanna Bourke gives an almost exhaustive research, with massive
quotes and sources, from the major wars. It seems that in ALL wars,
such atrocities occur, almost inevitably -- and New Zealanders are
not exempt. Prisoners were shot out of hand by NZ and other Allied
soldiers.
</span></p>
<p align="JUSTIFY" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 0.44cm; margin-right: 0.33cm;">
<span style="font-size: x-large;"><br />
</span></p>
<p align="JUSTIFY" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 0.44cm; margin-right: 0.33cm;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">
At the time, most of us who were protestors, knew nothing of these
things (we did know of the My Lai massacre and the bombings and much
else, but no such analysis had yet been made to the extent of that by
Bourke (who studied in NZ and holds dual NZ and British citizenship).</span></p>
<p align="JUSTIFY" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 0.44cm; margin-right: 0.33cm;">
<span style="font-size: x-large;"><br />
</span></p>
<p align="JUSTIFY" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 0.44cm; margin-right: 0.33cm;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">
Her book <i>An Intimate History of Killing</i> is exhaustive. All
aspects of war are looked at, or at lesast very many. And strange
contradictions are found, despite such as Calley, there were people
who couldn't bring themselves to kill a single individual, and the
very wide effect of combat trauma, even on people not in the actual
battles, was interesting. It shows that to protest war if it is
protesting something 'natural' is to protest something 'natural'
which we are best to avoid. Our resistance to war was necessary and
we couldn't see these things in the light of later research.
</span></p>
<p align="JUSTIFY" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 0.44cm; margin-right: 0.33cm;">
<span style="font-size: x-large;"><br />
</span></p>
<p align="JUSTIFY" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 0.44cm; margin-right: 0.33cm;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">
But to be, in general, opposed to violent war, as against, say, a
negotiation of any international situation is always better. It has
been recently seen that nothing was acheived by the US invasion of
Afghanistan and Iraq. It is not even certain that the 'Allies' didn't
prepare the ground for these invasions by 'doing the Towers' or that
they aided and abetted terrorism, so called, to enable their war. But
this is speculation. This cannot be known but the picture of wars as
is revealed by Bourke and others even first hand reports, leaves many
deeply skeptical and deeply distrustful of ANY Government, and of ANY
use of armies or military of any kind. War mongers are maybe
everywhere, but they are not to be encouraged.</span></p>
<p align="JUSTIFY" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 0.44cm; margin-right: 0.33cm;">
<span style="font-size: x-large;"><br />
</span></p>
<p align="JUSTIFY" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 0.44cm; margin-right: 0.33cm;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">
Bourke's book is massive and I dont want to get bogged down in it --
Calley was released from jail. He apologised more recently.
</span></p>
<p align="JUSTIFY" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 0.44cm; margin-right: 0.33cm;">
<span style="font-size: x-large;"><br />
</span></p>
<p align="JUSTIFY" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 0.44cm; margin-right: 0.33cm;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">
In the book it becomes clear that it is difficult to focus on a few
people, we are looking at the tragic results of war.
</span></p>
<p align="JUSTIFY" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 0.44cm; margin-right: 0.33cm;">
<span style="font-size: x-large;"><br />
</span></p>
<p align="JUSTIFY" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 0.44cm; margin-right: 0.33cm;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">
This was something that Mrs. Fowler opposed. She had a positive view
overall of people and the world -- she believed in progress and had a
humanitarian view of the world. I've gone into this aspect of world
history to focus on the rationale we had in those days. This has led
me to these (potentially very pessimistic) speculations about human
beings. Nevertheless, Mrs. Fowler, Dick Fowler (Rewi Kemp) and many
others at least opposed war and injustice. There seemed, according to
research in Bary Lee's PHD submission that showed those protests had
strong effects on the decisions of politicians in regard to say,
increasing the bombing or not.
</span></p>
<p align="JUSTIFY" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 0.44cm; margin-right: 0.33cm;">
<span style="font-size: x-large;"><br />
</span></p>
<p align="JUSTIFY" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 0.44cm; margin-right: 0.33cm;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">
Protestors were seen as 'Communists' or 'Anarchists' or 'Hippies'
etc. This was a simplification. They were of a diverse group with
various backgrounds and aspirations, different world views.
</span></p>
<p align="JUSTIFY" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 0.44cm; margin-right: 0.33cm;">
<span style="font-size: x-large;"><br />
</span></p>
<p align="JUSTIFY" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 0.44cm; margin-right: 0.33cm;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">
Many continued, as I did somewhat, to protest the 1981 Springbok Tour
and to go on marches for Maori rights etc.
</span></p>
<p align="JUSTIFY" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 0.44cm; margin-right: 0.33cm;">
<span style="font-size: x-large;"><br />
</span></p>
<p align="JUSTIFY" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 0.44cm; margin-right: 0.33cm;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">
Now young people are looking at the many issues of the world,
including evironmental issues, population increase, social issues,
the impact of the new tech etc. One recent book of interest in that
is <i>Vertical </i>by Stephen Graham which looks at spy satellites,
skyscrapers, cell phones (their use and misuse), terrorism (whether
done by the major "powers" or others for religious reasons,
drones and architecture and much else. Religion I see, as well as
philosophy, to be as important as science in these issues. We haven't
seen the end of sufferings, wars, injustices, inequalities but
perhaps there is now a new revival of interest that goes beyond just
wanting to acquire money etc. Perhaps there is hope. Who knows.
Humans may survive, but nothing is guaranteed. Let's dream a bit.
Maybe all will work out. At least challenging war, something that we
know (at least) began in WWI, perhaps the idealism for "Progress",
whatever that is, perhaps some movement toward a better world
(however that is defined) has happened, is happening. Perhaps.</span></p>
<p align="JUSTIFY" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 0.44cm; margin-right: 0.33cm;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">
_________________________ _______________________
_____________________
</span></p>
<p align="JUSTIFY" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 0.44cm; margin-right: 0.33cm;">
<span style="font-size: x-large;"><br />
</span></p>
<p align="JUSTIFY" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 0.44cm; margin-right: 0.33cm;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">
For a more positive view, on P212 to 213 there is an account of
Officer Hugh C. Thompson who saved a number of Vietnamese people. Do
do so he landed his helicopter into the melee, and turned his guns
onto his fellow American soldiers. He stopped them from killing.
This was a brave and even heroic act. Bourke says it was rare. But he
intervened and stopped an ongoing massacre. Unfortunately -- if her
research, which is formidably intense in its scope and honesty -- is
right. This was, sadly, a rare case (although others didn't actively
participate in the 'killing sprees'). But nevertheless, it shows we
are not targeting US soldiers (or even pointing at 'Evil') as it is
all much more complex. Bourke couldn't survey the whole history of
war. But we know that war is inherently terrible.
</span></p>
<p align="JUSTIFY" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 0.44cm; margin-right: 0.33cm;">
<span style="font-size: x-large;"><br />
</span></p>
<p align="JUSTIFY" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 0.44cm; margin-right: 0.33cm;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">
Let us celebrate such men as Hugh C. Thompson. Bourke's book is
difficult to read, harrowing, but not all is terrible. There are also
positive and strange and contradictory aspects. My own feeling is
that one of the things humans have to avoid are wars and conflict.
</span></p>
<p align="JUSTIFY" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 0.44cm; margin-right: 0.33cm;">
<span style="font-size: x-large;"><br />
</span></p>
<p align="JUSTIFY" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 0.44cm; margin-right: 0.33cm;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">
Not that Auden and I are or were Christians per se, but W. H. Auden
wrote in a poem somewhere:</span></p>
<p align="JUSTIFY" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 0.44cm; margin-right: 0.33cm;">
<span style="font-size: x-large;"><br />
</span></p>
<p align="JUSTIFY" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 0.44cm; margin-right: 0.33cm;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">
'We must love one another or die.' Perhaps there is hope. Perhaps.</span></p><p align="JUSTIFY" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 0.44cm; margin-right: 0.33cm;"><span style="font-size: x-large; text-align: left;">__________________________________________________________ _________________________ ____________________________________ </span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></div><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></div><br /></div>Richardhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10272507198753290435noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4271780116609645495.post-42523589521562488292015-08-05T01:33:00.001-07:002015-08-05T01:33:14.372-07:00Short Post - Update of Things - an Explanation of Sorts<br />
<br />
I am still "blogging" but my priority lately has been various things at home such as my back<br />
garden, my fence needing repair and I was doing some reviews, one of which became quite<br />
a task and took me nearly 5 months to get into form. I have been writing poetry, strangely<br />
starting often in the middle of the night, when i wake, in a half awake state. It is interesting<br />
that the very book that I use for writing the poems in seems to influence them. I find it<br />
greatly onerous to write up as I started writing poetry (again in the 90s) when I only had a pen and<br />
a carbon paper, so that I wrote onto a sheet of paper by hand and then did some typing. It<br />
wasn't until about 2000 I got a computer, to sell books via. Now I did this for some time.<br />
Last year I stopped and another of my tasks has been to go through every single book<br />
(of about 3000 books) in many categories. In the process I also 'pulled' books for my own<br />
collections (poetry and literature of all kinds, lit. bios., literary criticism, science etc, art<br />
[small as art books are large, heavy and expensive], philosophy. I am also getting those<br />
books out of the room they are in. In addition I am organising my own book collection of<br />
many subjects also: but it has a large lit. component, and science and science bios, maths,<br />
art, poetry, philosophy, reference etc etc all kinds of books, many I will probably never read but<br />
useful as either reference or when I have read something that might lead me to that book.<br />
<br />
Thus I am doing those things and other things such as writing up the notes I take from<br />
the many books (again of a wide range of subject headings: one of which is, for example,<br />
the mathematics of infinity (the continuum and Cantor's sets, the Aleph Null etc fascinate<br />
me, as well as say, the difference between potential and actual infinity that Archimedes<br />
used to determine the formula for a sphere); but I hasten to add that I am not good at<br />
mathematics! One can read these things in popular maths books: I'm quite slow at solving<br />
puzzles etc I say this as when I am seen analyzing chess games or solving chess problems<br />
some people want me to solve logic or maths puzzles. Many of the very good chess players<br />
are indeed good at those kind of puzzles but chess is a game whose methods you can<br />
learn, and certain things in chess repeat (although it is a game that always surprises). It is<br />
as much as pyschological struggle as a 'precise' game. It is in fact a game that demonstrates<br />
the necessity of error. This connects me to my interest in knowledge criteria, which is part<br />
of philosophy that most interested me at University.<br />
<br />
However I am also reading the classics and modern writers. And keeping writings or frag-<br />
ments of them for my project and I have a number of notebooks to write up.<br />
<br />
I am also organizing a will. No, as far as I know I am in good health, but I need to get<br />
that organized, and it helps that my new lawyer is my nephew. The Blog plan here is still<br />
much the same and I have some things 'on the boil' so to speak for both Blogs.<br />
<br />
But first I want to organize those books I once had for sale online and get them out of<br />
a room I want to use for my son.<br />
<br />
My main focus is on 'What I or we have been reading' which I want to connect to<br />
my mothers book list (of about 1600 books she read) and other lists, and my own interests.<br />
I also started a couple of stories and, as I say am writing some poems, in somewhat diff-<br />
erent style. I have yet to get these into a proper form.<br />
<br />
What have I been reading? Well, just recently, I am part through Plato's Republic, I started<br />
a novel by Agnes Smedley (the US Socialist writer who went on the Long March and<br />
wrote a huge epic about Chu Teh who was the general in Mao tse Tung's army, and while<br />
he started as a gangster (like Stalin!) he cured himself of opium addiction and turned<br />
his 'soldiers' to the aid of the revolutionary and anti-Japanese forces of the Communists.<br />
This I began because of the death and memorial of Mrs Fowler (a socialist, a social worker,<br />
a member of the China society, and a great person) who I knew for many years.<br />
<br />
I will do an entry on her funeral etc<br />
<br />
I also read a strange, and very good book called <i>The Antiquarian </i>by Gustavo Faveron<br />
Patriau (which I got from the library on impulse, not knowing the author but it concerns<br />
a book collector and the tragic life of his sister and issues of moral choice as well as<br />
it is a book of 'codes' and mystery, and of literature itself;<i> </i>but I have also been reading the<br />
plays of Strindberg, I re-read 'The Tempest' (I was also reading Harold Bloom's recent book<br />
about 'influence' (<i>The Anatomy of Influence</i>) and the agon between and intra great and<br />
other writers. I know the objections to Bloom and his 'Canon' etc but he has an enormous<br />
enthusiasm for literature, and he writes in an almost poetic way about writers. It is rather<br />
like readingHelen Vendler as an antidote to say Marjorie Perloff or Charles Bernstein.<br />
I read them all!<br />
<br />
But I also just read Gide's <i>Strait is the Gate </i>the other day<i> </i>to see what he was like. It is quite poetic.<br />
Strange that he rejected early drafts or manuscripts of Proust's great novel (which I now<br />
have in a complete form and want to read, although I nearly bought a complete for $200.00,<br />
as it was the (about 1968 or so) Moncrieff edition [I had Vol. one from that year.] partly<br />
to collect but added to that the illustrations (in what is more or less a first British edition).<br />
Gide's short novella was interesting. But I also read and re-read in some cases stories of<br />
Gogol. The Ukranian stories and some of his more or less situated in Petersburg such as<br />
'The Nevsky Project'. All are innovative even for the present and especially then. He may<br />
have been influenced by Dickens as Kafka certainly was and he influenced Dostoevsky.<br />
Pushkin, whose poems (in English, unfortunately I can only read anything in English, as<br />
I have no real or even partial knowledge or 'fluency' in languages apart from English)...<br />
however it seems to me that writers such as the Russian writers, and others in Europe<br />
such as Strindberg, Ibsen, (and the poets such as Rilke and Georg Trakl, Transtromer etc)<br />
Hesse, Gunter Grass, du Maupassant, Balzac, Flaubert and others seem to translate well<br />
into English.<br />
<br />
I also recently read (and re-read) stories by Alice Munro who it seems to certainly des-<br />
erves her Nobel Prize. I would put her with Chekov, Mansfield, our own Owen Marshall,<br />
Peter Taylor, Joyce Carol Oates, Flannery O'Conner and John Cheever. Perhaps not in the<br />
same league in the mode of such as Donald Barthelme whose The Dead Father is, while<br />
surreal and 'postmodern', a strangely moving book concerning the break by children from<br />
the 'tyranny' of the father. Something Freudian or other like that. But Barthelme's books of<br />
stories are brilliant, like those of Borges. In one he interrogates a black square, another<br />
is one long sentence, another a series of questions. Like Sterne he has black pages and<br />
one is called 'The Tolstoy' museum.<br />
<br />
I also reviewed 'Celanie' by Jack Ross and Emma Smith etc, and 'Gold Leaves' by Ted<br />
Jenner (yes Ted is a friend but yes his book is good, non fiction about the ancient inscript-<br />
ions in gold the Greeks put with some of the dead as a kind of guide to the afterlife); yes<br />
I know Jack but I am interested in Celan (my review will leave out my comments both on<br />
the launch of that book and my own reactions to Celan who can be a difficult writer, so<br />
I went down the road of invoking Berryman and others as a kind of comparison, but Bill<br />
Direen cut much of that for space reasons and I did indeed repeat myself a bit...). I also<br />
reviewed K. M. Ross's The Blinding Walk which I may eventually put up here (possibly<br />
with other reviews I have done or will do). Reviews are hard and I didn't do well at first,<br />
but I think with Gold Leaves I had learned my lesson so to speak and did a more compact<br />
review so Jack Ross took it stet for PNZ.<br />
<br />
Coincidentally I picked up NZ Poets in Performance (by Ross and, which I read and heard<br />
the readers<br />
from Ann Kennedy to Liz Macassey. It was interesting to hear poets I knew some time<br />
ago such as Linda Earle who was in 'The Poetry Brats' organized by Raewyn Alexander<br />
in 1993. Also Sonja Yelich who was reading at Poetry Live at the Albion in 1989.<br />
There are many good poets. Those two (I got up to there and had to return the book and<br />
disc) and such as James Brown, John Pule (who was also around in the Albion days as was<br />
Robert Sullivan). I have a book also by Chris Price [is she a bit like Elizabeth Smither?]<br />
called Brief Lives but her poems on the disc were quite brilliant. I didn't get to Tracey<br />
Slaughter. All the poets I read up to having return it were very interesting. Some also who<br />
I hadn't previously liked.<br />
<br />
All grist to the mill.<br />
<br />
I am also reading other things but also processing the last of the books I had for sale at one<br />
stage. So that and a few other matters are occupying me. I will see when I can do more<br />
regular Blog Posts as they are more or less good for the soul. <br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
Richardhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10272507198753290435noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4271780116609645495.post-25195863764419926322014-09-16T02:01:00.000-07:002014-09-23T03:47:14.302-07:00<br />
<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixWTaJ6KcyIK02KDYbTqnDRRn0JokcK3K7WwCU-8LzWgaxZACzh1ENT_l0oYNPpf39z36R-Sp-Kw_k4JSfaMHDCfhyoLrKomthEOn9-ShN3-v1ZTbE6Rm_qeQ6cwyvTeqvrbJLoqFTmOPA/s1600/Personal+-+Eyelight+-+Do+I+know+you+2011+027.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixWTaJ6KcyIK02KDYbTqnDRRn0JokcK3K7WwCU-8LzWgaxZACzh1ENT_l0oYNPpf39z36R-Sp-Kw_k4JSfaMHDCfhyoLrKomthEOn9-ShN3-v1ZTbE6Rm_qeQ6cwyvTeqvrbJLoqFTmOPA/s1600/Personal+-+Eyelight+-+Do+I+know+you+2011+027.jpg" height="300" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Other Other Man</span></td></tr>
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<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
HOW I INVENTED HYPERLINKS, A KIND OF APOLOGY<br />
(AND IMAGES FROM ELLEN PORTCH'S AMAZING ART)<br />
<br />
<br />
<span style="color: magenta;">PART THE FIRST</span>:<br />
<br />
I want to apologise for delays posting on here and my other Blog. I am catching up with<br />
my "reading" project before I proceed. I have several books to write up. I write by hand.<br />
I did consider scanning or a 'tablet' or other but I find it is almost a necessity for me to write<br />
out 'by hand' passages or fragments from works I am reading.* I want to show in a forth<br />
coming post how this connects to my diary-keeping which was a feature of doing stage<br />
three English (in the US Poetry course) in 1992 where we all kept diaries. It was a great<br />
course, and in that year I discovered Gertrude Stein, many modern and postmodern<br />
writers, and much else. How this and other things lead me to starting my <i>The Infinite Poem </i><br />
and later EYELIGHT which developed long before I got a personal computer (I was<br />
copying information from books about NZ's geological and other history, things seen<br />
in my local area, and had developed, before I had ever heard of it, a kind of "hyperlink"<br />
system. It simply meant that I would put a rectangle around certain words in colour, this<br />
subject itself (potentially at least), to be continued later. This amounted to a potentially,<br />
infinite 'splay' of connections of one aspect of the project to another, but I re-started this<br />
later on the internet (in fact I started it almost by accident when I was trying to make a<br />
comment on a Blog somewhere).<br />
<br />
At the moment I am reading <i>The Age of Wonder</i>, a fascinating book by Richard Holmes<br />
about such as James Banks who, after travelling to Tahiti with Cook and working as a<br />
humane and very intelligent and energetic botanist and a collector and analyst of cultural<br />
and biological objects, as well as assisting Cook to negotiate with the Tahitians (he<br />
befriended the local people with great ease and as well as living with them, and having a<br />
great time basically fucking the Tahitian woman (but he had some alliances that were quite<br />
'deep') - the native women exchanged sexual favours for nails and such things that were not otherwise available in Tahiti - he came to understand them and appreciate the people in a way that<br />
later explorers, and even Cook, failed to do, and in some ways he was an early<br />
anthropologist who lived with those he studied, although his study was what he was living)<br />
became the President of the London Royal Academy.<br />
Here is a link to information about Joseph Banks:<br />
<br />
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Joseph_Banks<br />
<br />
Banks is the kind of lynch pin to Holmes's narrative, that deals with Herschel, the<br />
astronomer and musician, who discovered Uranus in 1781, hence Keats, in his famous<br />
poem about discovering the writing of Chapman:<br />
<br />
<b> ...The felt I like some watcher of the skies</b><br />
<b> when a new planet swims into his ken</b><br />
<b> Or like stout Cortez, who, with wondering eyes</b><br />
<b> stared at the Pacific, while all his men,</b><br />
<b> Looked at each other with a wild surmise:</b><br />
<b> Silent, upon a peak in Darien.</b><br />
<br />
Keats is of course wrong about Cortez (it was Balbao) but he is referring, as Holmes<br />
points out, to that great genius, Herschel, who discovered the planet Uranus only after<br />
spending hours and hours grinding his own lens for his own Newtonian or reflector<br />
telescopes, and then hours studying the sky, which he read much as he read an almost<br />
mystical musical score. (Note that this is Keat's first version, the most common version<br />
'with eagle eyes' rather than 'wondering' but Holmes prefers the sense of wonder invoked<br />
by the first draft's us of that work.)<br />
<br />
I had read about astronomy as teenager, but Holmes goes more deeply<br />
into the history and the drama of the events in those times, and shows the intersection<br />
of art, poetry, science and philosophy. Coleridge, for example, attended scientific<br />
lectures, as did Keats, and the revolutionary Shelley. As did his wife to be, Mary<br />
Godwin, who was to write what must one of the greatest and moving masterpieces<br />
of English literature, Frankenstein (the pathos and deep significance of which, still<br />
relevant today - she invented, de facto, the science fiction novel: but it was a<br />
deeply felt philosophic novel. The movies and even plays, in general, have destroyed<br />
the whole significance of that work (as Holmes, and Edward Mendelson - the literary executor of<br />
W. H. Auden - says in his book <i>The Things </i><i>That </i><i>Matter - </i>point out<i>)</i><br />
<br />
http://www.nytimes.com/2006/08/24/books/24eder.html?_r=0<br />
<br />
<br />
Mendelson is also relevant to my "reading project" as I either read for the first time, or<br />
re-read most of the books he talks about (I disagree that we ditch Joyce and Beckett in<br />
favour of the, in fact all women writers, including Mary Shelley, the Bronte's [<i>Wuthering</i><br />
<i>Heights</i> like <i>Frankenstein</i> was new to me, and is also an exciting and powerful work], and<br />
books by George Eliot (whose <i>Middlemarch</i>, <i>Silas Marner</i>, and T<i>he Mill on the Floss</i> I<br />
have read and greatly enjoyed) as well as <i>Jane Eyre</i>, which I revisited, recalling the power<br />
that work had on me as a teenager: and also three novels of Virginia Woolf, whose<br />
<i>To The Lighthouse</i> and <i>Mrs.Dalloway</i> I agree are also two of the greatest works, and<br />
indeed matter: but Beckett and Joyce also matter. I think that Mendelson, in pushing<br />
against the 'depersonalization' and perhaps also the problematic nature of the 'academic<br />
industry' surrounding Joyce and Beckett (although the women writers he uses for his 'thesis'<br />
are also much studied) possibly throws the baby out with the bath water: but his view is<br />
refreshing, and I emailed and thanked him for his book, and he kindly replied, mentioning<br />
that now he is working on epics - but I think that there are many ways the novel has and<br />
can go, seen in the Noveau Roman (and as well as the Brontes), the writing<br />
of Robbe-Grillet I found to be a wonderful experience of writing, and also that his work<br />
'mattered' (although that it does or why can be harder to explicate, despite or because of<br />
the huge "industries"around the various writers: an ideal reader may or may not care what<br />
matters, but the question is interesting. I liked the way he (effectively) points out the<br />
philosophic, dialogic nature of novels (novels are a way, not only of entertainment, but of<br />
stimulating and conveying philosophic ideas - as via <i>Nausea</i> by Sartre (another favourite<br />
novel of mine!)...<br />
<br />
But that is only a brief discussion of these things: suffice it to say, and I am up to<br />
Humphry Davy's exciting discovery and (very fast) invention and development of the<br />
miner's safety lamp (and also the dispute between him and others re Stephenson (an<br />
engineer famous for his development of 'The Rocket' steam train) as to 'who was first')...<br />
in fact great as Davy was as a chemist, in a competition with the French Chemist<br />
Guy-Lussac to discover a unique chemical in sea-weed (Iodine) - they both discovered<br />
it almost simultaneously and identified it as a new chemical; but Davies back-dated his<br />
discovery and thus secured (almost, the French rightly dispute his 'firstness') according<br />
to Banks (who was not always objective in English-French matters): and indeed the dispute<br />
continues re Stephenson and Davies. But they were different things. And there is no<br />
question of the genius of Davy***, who wrote poetry, and mused on the nature of the<br />
cosmos and consciousness, as did Coleridge and the Shelleys. Mary Shelley's book was<br />
informed by seeing the alarming (but fascinating) experiments by scientists using voltaic<br />
cells to activate dead corpses - something that affected her writing of <i>Frankenstein</i> - a book,<br />
I say, with Mendelson, that does, if any literature does, matter. And it seems to matter<br />
deeply as we are now (almost) in an age when 'corpses' may even come to life again. But<br />
it matters also as being problematic of the moral dilemma of science, and indeed of the<br />
issue of human love for others. The deep questions of empathy: it is, on this level, as<br />
well as it's 'gothic' provenance, a deeply moving book. Like Balzac's (great, and deeply<br />
moving, <i>The Atheist's Mass: </i>it caused me to weep. A very old fashioned and umanly thing<br />
to do I know, but I did.<br />
<br />
<br />
But it is not this great book by Richard Holmes that is (only) holding me up, but my<br />
need to write up my notes. (As well as my usual problems with procrastination and<br />
bad work habits.) That is proceeding quite well, so then some posts on various things,<br />
and some reviews etc<br />
<br />
Keats was also interested in science (medicine) here is my reference to <i>Lamia</i> that<br />
Holmes also talked about. it comes into a poem I read at the Titirangi Poets last Saturday<br />
with Jack Ross. It was a good turnout. Jack and I were the guests (organized by Ron Riddell)<br />
in addition to many local poets, Harry Cording, Michael Morrissey, Bill Leadbeater and<br />
Stu Bagby were in attendance: Rod Scott was there <i>en passant</i> as he works with the<br />
'Going West Festival'. Jack read from Celanie (I am still ruminating on this book, as for<br />
me, more study of Celan is, I feel required...) as well as his interesting 'J' poems which use<br />
a kind of alter ego, like say Berryman's 'Sonnets' etc or perhaps Vincent O'Sullivan's<br />
'Butcher Poems"...These were very good and well received, as were those of many others.<br />
<br />
Here is one poem I read:<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<b>Other</b><br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><br /></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b>thus you must banish from your skull’s geography</b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b>those red hot tongs that lie in some fault of fear —</b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b>fie fie on thee thou mumbling mushroom</b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b>stumbling under moon: be it thou’s Precious</b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b>to know that there are Things.</b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><br /></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b>perhaps you, from all day</b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b>staring at the sun</b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b>at those hells of conjunctions,</b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b>whose dissolving boat of heaven’s</b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b>genetic imperative,</b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b>argue thus themselves,</b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b>have long been unseen:</b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b>as a vacant vacuum</b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b>consumes to regrow the very lost ghosts</b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b>of your secret stone spine,</b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b>that has grown, groaned, and</b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b>trapped you with Lamia in The Palace of Tongues -</b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b>until you petrify in the staring blood of ginger grins...</b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><br /></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b>these days seem forever afterwards</b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b>since they found you: and sunrise</b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b>followeth sunrise in perpetual reflective surprise:</b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b>e’en more spat than ejaculate,</b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b>or real reels (did you?) at twice light,</b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b>and, because otherwise elsewise, you</b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b>are wise and ever other otherwhere -</b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b>so tunc. The machines go mad as wires — as did</b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b>that ancient electric hedge of nerves</b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b>when things were joyful, filamental and fine.</b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><br /></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b>these didn’t, but, consequent, we recall</b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b>The Conjunctions (larger now): and History’s Gigantic Slug</b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b>who forever lyeth bunk on a wooden beach.</b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b>it is enough to know ‘fur’, ein</b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b>and that somehow this shall ende, stan:</b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b>for example, those who most be most be glad be sad;</b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b>so you crouch, lean, and grip thy pen - Other Other Man.</b></div>
<br />
<br />
The references in there are,<i> inter alia</i>, to Henry Ford "History is bunk." and Lamia, another<br />
favourite poem of mine (by a favourite poet), which also Holmes talks about in<br />
<i>The Age of Wonder. </i>But I hadn't read <i>Frankenstein</i> when I wrote it. The poem is perhaps<br />
'Rimbaudian', and in one of my typical 'mannerist' styles (I came to a fascination with<br />
attempting near-impossible feats of lettristic mannerism or verbal or poetical 'balancing acts'<br />
in many of the poems I wrote in the mid 90s, and some later ones. This derived particularly<br />
via reading or reading about the poetry of John Ashbery** - in particular his extraordinary<br />
poem Self Portrait in a Convex Mirror (in the book of that name) which is a meditation on<br />
the equally mysterious and extraordinary mannerist tour de force, Pagianino's self-portrait<br />
in, of course, a convex mirror.<br />
<br />
Of course, such stuff is not fashionable, but I am such stuff as dreams and<br />
unfashionableness are made.<br />
<br />
Precious, is <b>not</b> a reference to the LOTRs (although I have seen and loved all three films<br />
of that book, but only after my son brought them here about 2006)...but like the Golem,<br />
I talk to myself, and have no problem with it. Why I used Precious I forget, but I developed<br />
the habit of using Capitals perhaps from seeing 18th Century books, and or maybe the<br />
manuscripts or works of Emily Dickinson (whose use of verbs etc as nouns, or maybe it is<br />
the other way around?) I found interesting, if many of her poems, are damnably but<br />
wonderfully obscure.<br />
<br />
<br />
And here, again, is that Keatsian 'reference':<br />
<br />
trapped you with Lamia in The Palace of Tongues -<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
until you petrify in the staring blood of ginger grins...</div>
<br />
<br />
*<br />
I have used scanning (and even simply copying an pasting complete articles on art or<br />
artists, or science or whatever, for the other 'strands of the I.P. / EYELIGHT of which<br />
this Blog is the kind of 'command nodule' of. For example I scanned a book I recently<br />
read (the first thing I had read by Queneau), that is, Exercises in Style, a brilliant and<br />
witty work that I recommend. In that case, as well as my own scanner, I found passages<br />
of that ingenious work on the internet, complete.<br />
Another example or relevant 'find' was a book of stories by Alice Munro I enjoyed<br />
called <i>Too Much Happiness. </i><br />
<i><br /></i><i>**</i>Rod Scott, a bibliophile, poet, and artist of great talent, has written a poem about<br />
John Ashbery, which he mentioned at the reading. I think he came to that via my<br />
interest in Ashbery, although his reading is very wide. However, I have to concede<br />
an inspirational debt to Ashbery ever since I "discovered' <i>House Boat Days</i> in<br />
the Howick library about 1988.<br />
<i><br /></i><i><span style="color: magenta;">*** </span>Davy, as well as being one of the most ingenious and brilliant chemists and </i><br />
<i>inventors had great literary skills, and Holmes describes his </i>Cosolations <i>in great</i><br />
<i>and fascinating detail showing how it is a mix of memories, philosophy (he uses the</i><br />
<i>- perhaps Berkleyian, or Platonic - form of the dialogue) [Shelley, who also greatly</i><br />
<i>admired Davy and Herschel, also wrote some fascinating prose notes to such poems</i><br />
<i>as 'Queen Mab' which I don't seem to have in my edition of </i>Keats and Shelley<i>, the </i>Shelley<br />
<i>is annotated by his wife, the author of </i>Frankenstein]<i> </i><i>science fiction, </i><i>poetic prose,</i><br />
<i>and this book had quite a powerful effect on younger and now Victorian scientists such</i><br />
<i>as Babbit (who made what was virtually the first computer, financed by Banks, as well</i><br />
<i>as a more complex mathematical computer with instructions like modern digital </i><br />
<i>computers. N.B. that calculus itself is a form of very rapid computing, so this </i><br />
<i>mechanical 'arithmetic' or calculus or calculating machine was (or was to be) a </i><br />
<i>combination of digital and analogic techniques (probably using mechanical relays</i><br />
<i>or differentials. One might imagine for example three fingers rotating 10 places, with </i><br />
<i>a hand </i><i>in a clockwise direction, causing another hand to move 30 places. Turn </i><br />
<i>that into a machine with some form of input and output system and controlled </i><br />
<i>sequence of operations...this is possibly the general form Babbit's computer took.)</i><br />
<i>But regardless of all this speculation! Suffice to say the book by </i>Holmes, <i>with his </i><br />
<i>fascinating mix of poetry, history, human struggles (joys and sufferings, meetings, </i><br />
<i>adventures, romances, love affairs, changes in status, adventure, travel and philosophy: </i><br />
<i>as well as much about art, literature and science) was </i><i>one </i><i>of the few of it's kind I </i><br />
<i>was almost literally </i><i>'unable to put down'....</i><br />
<i> </i><br />
<i><span style="color: magenta;"><br /></span></i>
<i><span style="color: magenta;"><br /></span></i>
<i><span style="color: magenta;">_____________________________________________________________________</span></i><br />
<i><span style="color: magenta;"><br /></span></i>
<i><span style="color: magenta;">PART SECOND</span>: PHOTOGRAPHS OF VICTOR AND GUY FAWKES CA 2012 FROM </i><br />
<i>PLACE: </i><br />
<i><br /></i>
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<i><br /></i>
<i><br /><span style="color: red;">PART THE THIRD:</span></i><br />
<i><br /></i>
SOME OF THE INGENIOUS AND AMAZING ART OF ELLEN PORTCH<br />
(MORE ANON - I intend to a longer - if belated "review" of her exhibition.)<br />
<br />
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<br />
<br />
<br />
THE LOCAL MERGES WITH THE 'COSMIC'<br />
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<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<span style="background-color: red;">AND SCENES</span><br />
<span style="background-color: red;">OUTSIDE THE GALLERY AT NIGHT</span><br />
<br />
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<i><br /></i><span style="color: lime;"><i>WE ARE LEFT WITH 'THE MYSTERY'</i>
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<br />Richardhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10272507198753290435noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4271780116609645495.post-88534350483445209642014-02-11T23:35:00.003-08:002014-02-12T00:03:44.239-08:00<span style="background-color: #fce5cd;"></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: 18.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>F</span><span style="font-size: 20.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">rom <u><span style="font-size: x-large;">CAMPANA to MONTALE </span></u></span></div>
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<i>From Campana to Montale: Versions from the Italian</i>,
by The Writers Group, Auckland, New Zealand. 2010 (with an introduction by
Marxo Sonzogni). <i>From Campana to Montale</i> is a book of Kendrick
Smithyman’s translations of a number of Italian poets. Jack Ross published this
after Smithyman’s death with an introduction by Marxo Sozogni.</div>
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I received a copy of this on the loose understanding I was
to mention it in some way on my Blog which I am now doing.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>(Yes, this is atrociously tardy, but I am,
shall we say wrestling with my problems of motivation etc and this critique or
notice is one of the results.)</div>
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Given the publication date, I have been late with this! But
better late than…</div>
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The book came out the same day of Smithyman’s (or Scott
Hamilton’s edited) book <i>Private Bestiary: selected unpublished poems, 1944 –
1993</i>, of a selection of unpublished Smithyman’s poems, also published
posthumously. </div>
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Both books are very good, excellent in fact, but my
concentration in this post is on the Smithyman-Ross-Sonzogni book. For Ross has
given an interesting introduction. Sonzogni compliments the book as a good
effort by a major New Zealand poet, who, while he was not trained in languages
(it is said that his lack of passing French or other language in his studies at
the Auckland Teacher’s College in the early 30s to 40s meant he failed to get
his BA (or was that his MA?)). The point however (and we have Pound as one fine
example) is that those poets who, though they may lack the extensive knowledge
of the language they are working with, can make in many cases more interesting
or possibly additional versions of translations by avoiding the literal etc. It
is more than that. Each translator adds his or her input and if we who (like
myself) have very little working knowledge of any language except English; we
can respond and (especially if there is the original Italian there, this
sometimes helps to see the layout, patterning of the poem etc) thus gain
insight into poets and poetry never seen before. Especially in NZ. </div>
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The book has translations from the Italian poetry of Campana
(I had not heard of him so this is an example of the virtues of Smithyman’s
(now posthumous) and Ross’s joint production – and indeed he is one of the poets
I “engaged with”, but more on that…), Sandro Penna, Nelo Risi, Ungaretti,
Leonardi Sinisaglli (another poet I found almost immediately engaging), Alfonso
Gatto, Vittorio Sereni, Camillo Sbarbaro, Luciano Erba, Mario Luzi, Giorgio
Orelli, Elio Pagliarani, Lucio Piccolo, and Quasimodo. </div>
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It was when studying this Ross-Smithyman book, and in
discussions with Ted Jenner, I recalled my difficulty engaging with the poetry
of Montale. But via Smithyman (who I am not sure translates Montale that well):
but this is part of the value of such a book as <i>From Campana to Montale</i>,
I found my way back to the George Kay translations I had read in 2008.</div>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhc9OiU67LpPvwfYq75ZkllrSOHed8NO2PR5DeliI2UKgT0Rii3wLOnZlgGlfIXT1eh3wayuX55KbArQVd2PHdL78HdQjsLEPu2LU5AAp66Bm2FAPOMk8M0rz4Xn1sX-yEiKylvQWtb0cQI/s1600/Personal+-+Smithyman%2527s+Book+Jan+2014+005.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhc9OiU67LpPvwfYq75ZkllrSOHed8NO2PR5DeliI2UKgT0Rii3wLOnZlgGlfIXT1eh3wayuX55KbArQVd2PHdL78HdQjsLEPu2LU5AAp66Bm2FAPOMk8M0rz4Xn1sX-yEiKylvQWtb0cQI/s1600/Personal+-+Smithyman%2527s+Book+Jan+2014+005.jpg" height="320" width="209" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The George Kay edited the 'Montale' edition I "struggled" with. </td></tr>
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I had tried to read his work traveling to and from the
Auckland CBD when playing in a Chess Tournament about 2008, but poetry and
chess don’t mix, and I just couldn’t “get” Montale. But after Ted pointed to
parts of my Montale in the European Modern series (ed. and translated by George
Kay). It was then, thinking about Smithyman’s mammoth and heroic effort – he
literally went through poem by poem using a dictionary, and I know how hard
that is as I once, looking at Robert Lowell’s translation of Rimbaud’s ‘The
Drunken Boat’ (and wrongly, I now think, thinking it was not as dramatic or
“mad” as I had thought it might or should be), I set about, with my mother’s
old school French-English dictionary to work for hours on what was kind of
manic and angular near “literal” translation: but it was such an exhausting,
and very time-consuming process, I abandoned that and have not attempted any or
much translation since: but in considering this massive work by Smithyman (who
typically wanted to outdo some other translator), I went, of course, to
Wikipedia, there I found someone extolling Montale’s ‘Motets’ (in <i>Occasions</i>),
I went back to Kay, and suddenly there was a moment of almost violent
illumination: suddenly I could read Montale with the same excitement I read T.
S. Eliot, Yeats, Auden, Geoffrey Hill: or say Schuyler or John Ashbery and even
some of such as Bishop or Stein. Is or was Montale as great a poet? </div>
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It is impossible to answer these things: and even more
difficult for me to say anything about the poets in Smithyman’s book (or even <i>The
FSG Book Of Twentieth-Century Italian Poetry</i> which, in fact, has one
translation by Smithyman of a poem by Gatto): for the main reason that my
Italian is virtually zero, and even if that didn’t matter, I have, but thanks
to this book of Jack and Smithyman, really only recently paid strong attention
to Italian poetry (apart from Dante, some Petrarch and such as D’Annunzio who I
do admire, and indeed some years ago I also tried but somehow got bogged down
in or diverted from Quasimodo). Clearly the Nobel Prize is not awarded lightly - although in discovering the poets of Italy I found another Italian poet who had also expected
to win and was rather bitter at Montale’s success over himself: something very
understandable. But let’s say, Montale was doing something right: and indeed
that is the luck or ill-luck of these things, even reading the FSG book, which
has younger and often more interesting and possibly more innovative younger
poets, I am aware that there are undoubtedly hundreds of other Italian poets
who “should” have been included. But this is the nature of anthologies…</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEje-8bGMY83ALqc67knuBWumjAyoyvmvGSsYYNg6gFERHgNzIgKryWmfP2zrXz5Bkkfs5xoipKvBerwkDpftSgr1B27mulpcUtkF0mKzffIcwL1HEE13G12bvnjOc1S5gR-AYihGGnqQDRR/s1600/Personal+-+Smithyman%2527s+Book+Jan+2014+006.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEje-8bGMY83ALqc67knuBWumjAyoyvmvGSsYYNg6gFERHgNzIgKryWmfP2zrXz5Bkkfs5xoipKvBerwkDpftSgr1B27mulpcUtkF0mKzffIcwL1HEE13G12bvnjOc1S5gR-AYihGGnqQDRR/s1600/Personal+-+Smithyman%2527s+Book+Jan+2014+006.jpg" height="400" width="290" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">My library copy of the beautifully produced and extensive edition of <i>The FSG Book of 20th Italian Poetry</i> Like all such books its very virtues guarantee it's limitations. But it is a good start.</td></tr>
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And, as anyone who knows me knows, it being impossible
guarantee’s I <i>will </i>inevitably make “answers” and comments etc about the poets, but my
limited knowledge here must be assumed even when I am launching into my grand
exegeses or narrations! </div>
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The <i>FSG</i> book includes one translation of Smithyman’s
and includes many poets he either did not know or left out for reasons of space
or time. However, my point re the value of a book such as Smithyman’s, is the
way it opens up rooms to other rooms: in this case my closer looking at Montale
and Quasimodo (still ongoing, hence some of my comments on these writers are
provisional), as well as the following very interesting younger poets including
such as Alda Merini, Antonio Porta, Amelia Rosselli, Annalisa Cima, and others
including one poem by Gabriele Frasca. And this looking at these poets must be
limited and the FSG book will have omitted many: but there is clearly opened
up, via Smithyman, a channel at least to some of the poets of (greater or
lesser) significance (if we can quantify this quality). </div>
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Good as the anthology (above) of 20th Century Italian Poets is it is
somewhat conservative, and limited, obviously to those who were young in the 20<sup>th</sup>
Century. I have no doubt there are some great poets engendered, or to be
created and discovered, in the coming years as the 21<sup>st</sup> Century
continues. This process or phenomena, of course, will continue throughout the
world. </div>
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<i>From Campana to Montale</i> is dedicated to, and in fact
partly made by, Margaret Edgecumbe who was Smithyman’s wife at the time of his
death, is really a joint effort. These are Smithyman’s translations but he had
assistance (particularly from librarians and Edgecumbe herself).</div>
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After the introduction by Marxo Sonzogni, Jack Ross has a
long and very interesting essay comparing Smithyman the poet and showing how in
many ways he had similarities more to Quasimodo than Montale. In addition
points are made in favour and some not of Smithyman’s translations. It is
mentioned that there was ‘no Nobel prize for Smithyman’ but while such a prize
wouldn’t come from these translations (which all in all seem pretty good to
me): there is no doubt that of New Zealand’s writers he would be, had he been
alive, a sure candidate for that prize. Despite the undoubted greatness of
Montale and Quasimodo neither of them, it seems to me, benefited from the
intensive study of the so-called Metaphysical writers and such as Laforge’s
ironic humour, that helped make T. S. Eliot one of the greatest poets ever.
Even at his best, Quasimodo seems too diffuse (the term is or was “hermetic”,
but to be fair Quasimodo is a different writer with a different life
experience. Smithyman’s experience was wide, and his interests were in the
things of the world but also the ideas of the world. (Of course many of these
things could well apply to Quasimodo and Montale etc). Smithyman’s erudition
was vast – his debt was to just about every modern poet in existence and
Shakespeare and all the others. His range and even his tone, while there is
always a certain constant here, is vast. He riddles, he puns, he is lyrical: he
deals in dreams (but they are vivid, amazing dreams): he moves from the
Particular to the Huge General in a flash. When he writes of a pond or place in
NZ he knows all the plants, the technical terms, but then he is suddenly in
England or Russia, then there is a reference from Traherne: or he talks of Te
Kooti, can’t sleep that night, and we are reminded of Bulgaria or novels by
Thomas Wolfe. Smithyman began with these amazingly ornate, complexly rhymed
poems with line lengths that were equal in stanza after stanza, in the manner
of Marianne Moore, but just as importantly, showing the way he (and Curnow
incidentally) were positively influenced by that other great poet – Dylan
Thomas. (And via him, pace Dr Ross, G. M. Hopkins: that extraordinary fellow innovator
and technician of language). Smithyman was New Zealand’s Shakespeare. He comes
in a close second to the great man: for he was not only one of NZ’s greatest
poets, he was one of the world’s greatest. He was unique in way that only great
innovators such as Stein are unique. He absorbed such as Yeats, Stevens, Eliot
and Williams Carlos Williams (who was no friend of T.S.): it seemed to
Smithyman-Reading-History hunters, who crept about the Auckland University
Library studying the library cards (on which, pre computers, the borrower’s
name was recorded); that Smithyman had read everyone and everything. He hadn’t,
but it was like that.</div>
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<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Montale and
Quasimodo are not on his level, great as they are. Smithyman moved from this
period of wonderful poems to the more ‘realist’ or ‘magic realist’ style. But
much as he is embedded in language and meaning and ideas, he never floats
about. It seems to me that Quasimodo and some of the other poets there do.
Smithyman realized that ‘no ideas except in things’ was a misquote of Williams.
He would know that this was taken from <i>Imaginations</i>, where W.C.Williams
gives a complex acknowledgement of the role of imagination and abstraction.
After all, Williams studied and talked to the abstract artists and other
modernists in NY etc (as well as studying and writing of works by such as
Breughal and he inspired the modernist artist Demuth with his ‘The Great
Figure’): his poems are deeply ‘real’ but they are of the mind, the senses, the
dreamed (as perhaps in his long poem <i>Patterson</i>, or his near surrealist
realizations of ‘reality’. This too, somewhat, is Smithyman’s approach. The
‘real’, the things and names intersect with dreams and ideas, as well as
complex, abstract games and ‘tricks’. Brunton, another genius, takes these
tricks further into the madness of the strange clown…</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQwrXiPb4nRwsGXP-CW2xU5GOsAIfZxm2vNanuPdaiwNhqXF2p2nOlyKE7j58HUEp2SiAX9N4eShAn7tTemzQ1RQE9ZmAcJRIuQf02gl_WTjAJhmR90-K_LG-HGogRHwxKUB634ilmwM18/s1600/Personal+-+Smithyman%2527s+Book+Jan+2014+010.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQwrXiPb4nRwsGXP-CW2xU5GOsAIfZxm2vNanuPdaiwNhqXF2p2nOlyKE7j58HUEp2SiAX9N4eShAn7tTemzQ1RQE9ZmAcJRIuQf02gl_WTjAJhmR90-K_LG-HGogRHwxKUB634ilmwM18/s1600/Personal+-+Smithyman%2527s+Book+Jan+2014+010.jpg" height="240" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Smithyman - the greatest poet? His translations are a titanic effort.</td></tr>
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But as I say, I cannot really judge these poets so well. (So
why am I making this judgment, or these claims? I reserve the right to stay
wrong, that’s why, and it’s NOT that I am, paradoxically, a great “fan” of
Smithyman: I have a fraught history re Smithyman. Like many, for along time I
simply thought him too difficult (and he himself, once in an interview,
disparaged his own ‘difficulty’, although it has been said that he used
difficulty as method).<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I even wrote a
poem, years before meeting Jack or Scott that talked about Smithyman’s
“difficulty”. His poetry, although I have come to see it’s unique brilliance,
was never really my cup of tea and even now I read him in small packets so to
speak. And he can be perplexing, puzzling: but like my failure initially to
appreciate Montale etc, it was more for me a temperamental or personal reaction
to his work than a sense it was “not good”. Scott Hamilton and later Jack, in
fact, were factors in bringing his work more to my attention. </div>
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So I end up with this book of Italian poems translated by
perhaps NZ’s greatest poet. So I evaluate, or try to.</div>
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But my Italian is virtually zero, so you can take pinches of
salt at this point... </div>
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Looking through the <i>FSG 20<sup>th</sup> Century Italian
Poetry</i> book (and again I cant see these writers’ works completely) I see
writers who in tone and their rather, in some cases, more direct, or in some
cases more ‘modern’ looking and sometimes almost riddling or language-based
style: some of these younger writers are closer to the kind of writer Smithyman
was. Some of them are in the list above of ‘younger poets’. Smithyman didn’t
translate any of the futurists (not, again a criticism) and another writer who
wrote poetry, Primo Levi comes to my mind: but perhaps like others it wasn’t
until seeing a large collection such as the FSG book I realized he had. This
side, the Holocaust and the war, of the European experience has interpenetrated
almost the world community of artists and thinkers. Quasimodo and others deal
with it more or less directly. Here in NZ we tend to forget that Italy, the
early Soviet Union, and perhaps France led the way in many of the major
innovative movements in art literature as they often added to the scientific
advances. Perhaps this, and the tradition going back to the Renaissance and
even earlier to Virgil, Ovid and the great Latin satirists reminded Smithyman
of his “mission”. It is a pity he had not lived longer to see his major works
fully through. </div>
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There is no question of the greatness of Smithyman as a
poet: but could he do well as a translator? These translations are not always
the ‘best’. The problem of translation though, echoes the general problem of
reading poetry (reading anything in fact), and hence these are called “versions
from the Italian”, which seems right. It seems to me that in reading a poem in
any language, even each time we read the same poem: we encounter a new
version.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>In many of the poems here
Smithyman ‘improves’ on one translation I see (I mean another translation of
the same poem) in some lines while weakening them in others. In some cases, as
with his translation in one case of Ungaretti, Kay’s version is better (for me)
because of its more “poetic” style. In others it is hard to say whether Smithyman’s
version is better. He tries too much to “ground” some of the poems with a kind
of NZ or “working class” phrase, but these are often just notes not played in
tune. In other cases it seems this works partly, in others it seems the best
version (for me at least), and at other times it fails. (If I can really say,
“fails”, it is not certain what this means.)</div>
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But taken as a whole, the translations are good, and it is
an achievement for any poet to do so many. He seems to me to translate such as
Dino Campana (whose poems I liked a lot) more appropriately (so that many of
these earlier –in his book –poets are more lyrical and goldeny it seems due to
a lyric touch Smithyman keeps more in check in his own work). His focus though
is largely on Montale and Quasimodo.</div>
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The book is well produced and Ross’s essay is full of
insight and depth. Jack Ross is a well published poet and has translated many many poems from
Italian and also other languages. Jack Ross, who knew Smithyman personally, has
also put out a number of books including the novel EMO which is an
extraordinary innovative work. </div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgaUPREQwJFbZ77ofRkj7YKAWb1iqZC0_vfRAXjtgoAQhKaU4qhmnFP1EbGGlf5t7Hfniz7mTJDkTArG8qqtE5xb8AjG0C7wP63GoeajuxlcoxZinidfTDqpPebYBkaOinL7eb-yuTWBftL/s1600/Personal+-+Smithyman%2527s+Book+Jan+2014+003.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgaUPREQwJFbZ77ofRkj7YKAWb1iqZC0_vfRAXjtgoAQhKaU4qhmnFP1EbGGlf5t7Hfniz7mTJDkTArG8qqtE5xb8AjG0C7wP63GoeajuxlcoxZinidfTDqpPebYBkaOinL7eb-yuTWBftL/s1600/Personal+-+Smithyman%2527s+Book+Jan+2014+003.jpg" height="320" width="238" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Jack Ross's EMO, a fascinating if disturbing and controversial work.Ross edited Smithyman's translations and has done many translations himself and also poetry and novels such as <i>EMO</i> shown here. The cover is from or is a painting by Emma Smith. </td></tr>
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This book of Smithyman must have extended the poet himself.
It adds, through Ross and Sonzogni to the huge life work of Smithyman, one of
the most prolific and consistently intense of all poets. There is also the huge
collected edition of his works on line. </div>
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Some minor grievances: the poet’s and poems are often hard
to locate (the huge FSG book solves this with the name of the poets on the
bottom of the page). Where poets are listed there are no page numbers
indicating where the poem is.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The book
also lacks an index. (So, famously, does Smithyman’s critical work <i>A Way of
Saying</i>, as he himself noted!)</div>
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This, the following, is not a criticism: it is a pity there
was not also an Italian version beside each poem, but clearly cost and space
were factors.</div>
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Given these small moans: <i>From Campana to Montale:
Versions from the Italian </i>is an excellent addition to the library of anyone
interested in Smithyman or contemporary (and other) Italian poetry, which has a
long and rich tradition: longer than that of the English or many other nations.
It is wonderful that a great New Zealand, and indeed world, poet, has made this
huge effort to translate these varied and often mysterious poets. I thank
Margaret Edgecumbe, Smithyman himself, Jack Ross and Sonzogi for this
production.*<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
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<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>*This book is also
part of a series called the Transference Series, directed by Erminia
Passannanti </div>
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<br />Richardhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10272507198753290435noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4271780116609645495.post-1758115595212653292013-09-12T03:41:00.002-07:002013-09-28T04:02:25.773-07:00<!--[if gte mso 9]><xml>
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<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="font-size: 18.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">The Reinvention of Beauty</span><span style="font-size: 16.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">. </span></div>
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<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="font-size: 16.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">From Mathematics, Ballard,
Isherwood,<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>and Much Else to A Review of
</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 16.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Michael Morrissey’s poetry book <i>Memory</i>
<i>Gene Pool</i>.</span></div>
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SHORT INTRO, REMINDER NOTE: This Blog is, as I have tried to
explain previously, kind of my ‘control Blog’ whereas EYELIGHT is – more or
less – a poem sui generis – this Blog becomes part, in theory at least of the
whole project, if project it can be said to be.</div>
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<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>So I want to
include, in a more direct and conventional approach, such things as events in
my own life, thoughts or comments on politics, poetics, literature and other
writers, Bloggers and other. So I need to finish some promised review of books
by some writers I know such as Jack Ross (who has put out so much), Scott Hamilton,
Bill Direen, Ted Jenner (and others of the “Titus” lot) as well as other
writers or artists or even books I have been reading – with no regard to
whether they are “current” or “relevant”; but they may be. </div>
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<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Recently I have
read a book on mathematics and ideas by John Stillwell and prior to that one of
those well done illustrated introductions to Lacan. The maths book got me
pulling out old books on calculus and studying my two volume <i>Men of
Mathematics</i> by E. T. Bell as well as actually watching YouTubes on (fairly
basic intro to) multivariable calculus, as well as a strange lecture by a young
man on the main ideas of Riemann. Riemann followed others in developing
non-Euclidean geometry, which begins with the questioning and in fact the
disproof of the parallel line theory.</div>
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<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>While reading this
I got into <i>Crash</i> by J. G. Ballard, a book I can admire, but perhaps,
having read it put aside rather gingerly! His shorter stories and <i>Super-Cannes,</i>
all almost as ‘disturbing’ or bizarre, yet often poetic or as nearly as
stimulating and amazing as the seemingly infinite stories by Borges: were
better. Better? Well, certainly less confronting or disturbing. (More so you
ask than savage and gory “What bloody man is that?!” <i>MacBeth</i> or near
nihilist <i>Lear</i>, or the more <i>Silence of the Lambs</i>**-ian gory <i>Titus
Andronicus</i> – the first play after the diabolically wonderful <i>Richard the
III</i> you read as a teenager Richard?)?</div>
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<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It was such as
Jack Ross and Scott Hamilton’s references to his writings (as well as other
critical comments) that led me to reading Ballard. But I had “encountered” him
earlier: his book <i>Empire of the Sun </i>was made into a film, which I saw
and was intrigued by some years ago.</div>
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<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><i>Crash</i> chimed
in ironically or appropriately with the rather strange theories of Lacan.
Ballard’s book is admirable, brilliant, but perhaps not ‘my cup of tea’. Sex
and death, injuries in automobiles<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>(and
detailed descriptions of the most horrific and anarchic of these) and sex,
bodily fluid, motorways, The Wound, perhaps Freudian or Lacanian and other
“theories of some sort about the world – unless Ballard was either unknowing or
completely indifferent to such philosophic or literary “theories”, or theories
of any such kind (which is quite possible, I know very little about Ballard the
man, as it happens), and much else interact in this charged and disturbing
novel in which a certain Vaughan pursues his own death (hoping simultaneously
to achieve a kind of sexual union with the actress Elizabeth Taylor). I’m
relatively new to Ballard so I will take a break from him for now – but
certainly some of his stories such as are in his (more or less fantasy,
apocalyptic – although his terminals, his stark endgames, seem to me not
frightening as such, there is sense to me that as a writer and a person he
reveled in it all his life, it seems that the boy-Ballard in the film <i>The
Empire of the Sun</i> is in his element in the anarchic world of
Japanese-occupied China, and at the end of that movie, living on his wits in a
POW camp, he is fascinated by the heroic Kamikaze pilots taking off into the
skies to fulfill their various Wagnerian or “Rising Sun” glories. The tone of
the movie is surreal. My guess is that Ballard was somehow “disconnected” by
these early experiences but I will report back, so to speak, after I’ve
actually read Empire of the Sun and perhaps Kindness of Women…</div>
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<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><i>Books I have read, or am trying to read, or am reading. </i> </span></div>
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<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> <table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiD4wgesW-ZHi804PqjiG1Y2NNNcm75Me68Q31K3NLXYzd0kh65cGWsV-5Dzwaflv01Td9J54Hzg6nOtE7clHuzIWmznAlPImhsM1Z3gaGafjBGUUItV0pKzvKT0L1BtPq1nXq2z2qVfKIG/s1600/Personal+-+Books+Poetry+etc+Sept+2013+004.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiD4wgesW-ZHi804PqjiG1Y2NNNcm75Me68Q31K3NLXYzd0kh65cGWsV-5Dzwaflv01Td9J54Hzg6nOtE7clHuzIWmznAlPImhsM1Z3gaGafjBGUUItV0pKzvKT0L1BtPq1nXq2z2qVfKIG/s400/Personal+-+Books+Poetry+etc+Sept+2013+004.jpg" width="260" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Christopher Isherwood's 'Goodbye to Berlin' can be very moving.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
</span></div>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtkL9wcPk8rUjt4cqRZdzL1Rc2bsSu0tDwJSTaJ0zyHa4CSlNO7m5xW2ylKpUBQDwf5BwxLyzIVvfc0RzO8F5IR5CQx701jdrI4Q1gKJvzN8I_bqBVMAfSMR9uW7XFtibqLZiZF3o7elgj/s1600/Personal+-+Books+Poetry+etc+Sept+2013+003.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="264" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtkL9wcPk8rUjt4cqRZdzL1Rc2bsSu0tDwJSTaJ0zyHa4CSlNO7m5xW2ylKpUBQDwf5BwxLyzIVvfc0RzO8F5IR5CQx701jdrI4Q1gKJvzN8I_bqBVMAfSMR9uW7XFtibqLZiZF3o7elgj/s320/Personal+-+Books+Poetry+etc+Sept+2013+003.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Books, among the many I am reading, or struggling with. 'Mrs. Dalloway' by Virginia Woolf (for me one of the greatest writers in the 20th Century) I am re-reading as also Conrad's great satire 'The Secret Agent'. Cheever has to be one of the great short story writers, and Flaubert takes out much or French writing 'His Penelope was Flaubert' (Pound). Stillwell's book on mathematics lurks above a book about Continental Philosophy, beside a "cheat book" about Lacan..and Elizabeth's ingenious and often mystifying poetry is inside the wonderfully illustrated 'Professor Musgrove's Canary...a coincidental nod to 'Falubert's Parrto by Julian Barnes which I also read recently?' I feel I am a "creative reader" rather than a creative writer...</td></tr>
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<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But prior to all
this I had read Isherwood’s <i>Goodbye to Berlin</i>, which in its way is a
masterpiece. Isherwood was the friend of fellow homosexual, and literary man,
W. H. Auden. His contrasts of his life with two families in pre-WW2 Germany,
one working class and the other, a family of very rich German-Jewish
businessmen: these and the other chapters form a thematic contrast. The mother
of the first family is sent to a Sanitarium – this visit to the old and young,
some who are clearly soon to die, in this place involves on of the most moving
(but I surmised, as Isherwood does this throughout: if not with a slightly
callous detachment that paradoxically enhances his encounter) part of the book,
in fact of any book I have read. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I copy things from
just about all the books I write (I find it almost more of a passion than
writing anything by myself, as I do this I feel that in some way I am
creating-recreating and thus there is no need for me to “invent” – although I
have to say I am not sure why I get pleasure from this, it is compulsive, and
the very act (typing it directly onto a computer would not feel the same, but I
am beginning to do that, as well as [like Kenneth Goldsmith of “uncreative
writing”, who by the way I am NOT (as far as I know) motivated by, but his
stuff is certainly interesting, who sees the Internet as one vast poem – and
indeed all writing is now either out there or on paper somewhere or somewhere
ready for our use or re-use: indeed one is reminded, of course by the many
collagists at least as far back as Duchamp] doing some copying and
pasting….Creative cheating…</div>
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<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>So here is the
passage from <i>Goodbye to Berlin </i>(set in Germany about 1936 where
Isherwood spent some pre-war years teaching, and living) after Christopher and
his friend Otto visit his mother (Frau Nowak) who is probably dying of
tuberculosis:</div>
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<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>After tea we sat
upstairs in the ward. Frau Nowak had borrowed a gramophone so that we could
dance. I danced with Erna. Erika danced with Otto. She was tomboyish and
clumsy, laughing loudly whenever she slipped or trod on his toes. Otto, sleekly
smiling, steered her backwards and forwards with skill, his shoulders
hunched…When I held Erna in my arms I felt her shivering all over. It was
almost dark now, but nobody suggested turning on the light.</div>
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<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>After a while we
stopped dancing and sat round a circle on the beds. Frau Nowak had begun to
talk about her childhood days, when she lived with her parents on a far, in
East Prussia…The ward was quite dark now. The windows were big pale rectangles
in the darkness. Erna, sitting beside me on the bed, felt down for my hand and
squeezed it; the she reached behind me and drew my hand around her body. </div>
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<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>…She was trembling
violently.’Christoph.’ she whispered in my ear.</div>
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<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>‘…and in the
summertime,’ Frau Nowak was saying, ‘we used to go dancing in the big barn down
by the river…’</div>
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<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>My mouth pressed
against Erna’s hot, dry lips. I had no particular sensation of contact…’I’m so
happy, this evening…’ Erna whispered.</div>
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<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>‘The postmaster’s
son used to play the fiddle,’ said Frau Nowak. ‘He played beautifully…it made
you want to cry…’</div>
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<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>…………</div>
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<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>*</div>
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<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Five minutes
later the sister came to tell us that the bus was ready to start.</div>
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<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>…….</div>
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<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Then we were
clambering onto the bus with the other passengers. The patients crowded round
to say goodbye. Wrapped and hooded in their blankets, they might have been
members of an aboriginal forest tribe.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
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<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Frau Nowak had
begun crying, though she tried hard to smile.</div>
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<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>‘Tell your father
I’ll be back soon…’</div>
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<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>‘Of course you
will, mother! You’ll soon be well now. You’ll soon be home.’</div>
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<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>‘It’s only a
short time sobbed Frau Nowak; the tears running down over her hideous frog-like
smile. And suddenly she started coughing – her body seemed to break in half
like a hinged doll. Clasping her hands over her breasts, she uttered short
yelping coughs like a desperate injured animal. The blanket slipped from her
head and shoulders: a wisp of hair, working loose from the knot, was getting
into her eyes – she shook her head blindly to avoid it. Two sisters gently
tried to lead her away, but at once she began to struggle furiously. She
wouldn’t go with them. </div>
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<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>‘Go in, mother,’
begged Otto. He was almost in tears himself. ‘Please go in! You’ll catch your
death of cold!’</div>
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<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>‘Write to me
sometimes, wont you, Christoph?’</div>
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Erba was clutching my hand as though she were drowning. Her
eyes looked with a terrifying intensity of unabashed despair. ‘It doesn’t
matter if it is only a post-card…just sign your name.’</div>
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<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>‘Of course I
will…’</div>
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<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>They all thronged
round us for a moment in a little circle of light from the panting bus, their
faces lit ghastly like ghosts against the black stems of the pines. This was
the climax of my dream: the instant of nightmare in which it would end. I had
an absurd pang of fear that they were going to attack us – a gang of terrifying
muffled shapes – in dead silence. But the moment passed. They drew back –
harmless, after all, as mere ghosts – into darkness, while our bus, with a
great churning of its wheels, lurched forward towards the city, through the
deep unseen snow.</div>
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<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
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<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I found this
excruciatingly sad. It is also beautifully and movingly written, but to
appreciate Isherwood’s writing the whole book, which was originally to be a
larger, perhaps a deeper work, should be read. Isherwood traveled a lot, in the
early years he went with Auden to Iceland and Spain, and they both famously
“absconded” to the US just prior to WWII. </div>
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<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The slight
indifference of Isherwood in the above passage is in fact the gap between the
slight evasion he always kept from a clear, unambiguous revelation, until his
later years, that he was homo-sexual: but nevertheless, the tragedies he
observed were real, and they were of real people of all classes in a Germany
whose history and the coming tragedy of war and the Holocaust to come we all
now know. </div>
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<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But by reading
these various books I am able to ‘travel’ in time and into or around ideas and
experiences I could never get to or near in my own life. Walking through
libraries is dangerous for me as I am constantly seeing a book on poetry or
poetics, literary criticism and or books of essays (Updike, Joyce Carol Oates,
Atwood, Cynthia Ozick, Susan Sontag, Daniel Mendelsohn, V.S. Pritchett are only
some of these); art, or photography, a novel, a book on mathematical ideas,
cosmology, history, philosophy, science (neurology and cellular biology are
only two of my interests), and well as books on books. But aside from some
books on practical or DIY subjects and chess, my main areas are the above: I
looked in and one of the several books on poetry I picked up was:</div>
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<i><span style="font-size: 18.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">Memory
Gene Pool</span></i><span style="font-size: 18.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">
by Michael Morrissey, </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 18.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">published
by ‘Cold Hub Press Governors Bay’ in 2012. </span></div>
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<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Michael Morrissey
has been on the NZ literary scene for some years now. When I re-entered poetry
and literature in 1988 I joined a course in short story writing he was holding
in Edgewater College Pakuranga, as there were no poetry courses. When I arrived
I met Morrissey and realized I had forgotten to bring a pen. His ironic: “A
writer without a pen?!” and a raised eyebrow as he supplied a pen were typical.
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<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Morrissey had an
ironic but not unpleasant manner. The course was very good. Afterwards I saw
him at poetry readings at the Albion where he was often the MC. In the meantime
I had been alerted to the advent of his book The New Fiction at a very good
bookshop in Howick, where I lived at the time. </div>
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<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>This was a
breakthrough for me, as in reading it: his essay on the state of NZ literature
covered writers throughout the world, including many names I had not heard of.
Morrissey was “searching out loud” for a way for NZ literature. Inside writers
were the writers: Russell Haley, Michael Harlow, Wystan Curnow, Morrissey
himself, Chris Else, Malcom Fraser, Ian Wedde, Ted Jenner, John Barnett, Gary
Langford, Keri Hulme, Francis Pound, Jennifer Crompton, Julia Allen, Alexandria
Chalmers, Simon Lewis, David Eggleton, Iain Sharp, Gregory O’Brien, Markman
Ellis, and Stephanie Johnson. All of these contributed an extraordinary high
level of interesting and innovative writing.</div>
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<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Morrissey’s
essay-introduction is one of the few significant polemics on writing trends and
like C. K. Stead’s book The New Poetic is one of NZ’s great contributions to
critical writing that is still valuable.</div>
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<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But good too are
his longish, ironic and postmodern or at least ‘metafictional’ poem-texts such
as <i>Paragraphs on Priscilla</i> and <i>Phosgene</i> are brilliant and add to the overall
quality of this book, which introduced me to such writers as Bartheleme,
Brautigan and many others (I hadn’t read hardly a single literary book for
about 20 years). </div>
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<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>At the course
Michael showed us the film of one of his short stories ‘Stalin’s Sickle’ which
won a prize. Morrissey, even by this time had produced a number of stories and
poetry collections, and won a number of awards.</div>
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<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He turned away
from “postmodernism” or the extremes of the writing of the L=A=U=N=G=A=G=E
writers (Charles Bernstein, Susan Howe, Lyn Heijinian, Silliman, and such as
Bruce Andrews). He announced this renunciation at the launch of his poetry
books <i>A Case of Briefs</i><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>(I bought a
copy): at that time I had no idea who they (the Langpos) were. His poetry is very much
influenced by Williams Carlos Williams (indeed a great Modernist poet) and
perhaps some of the New York poets and some NZ and perhaps British and European
writers.</div>
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<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>More recently he
has (rightly) pointed out to others, and myself his role as a dedicated writer
who chose to make his way as a writer outside of academia. He said to (an
academic who is also a writer but perhaps more in the above Langpo camp) that
his ritual of daily dedication to his craft of writing means he feels like a
priest about to fulfill his creative duties.</div>
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<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It is almost a
cliché re Michael that his marriage made him a more mellow personage, and he
himself has recently re-invented himself as a ‘mad poet’ – he has officially and
regally “gone mad” – of course I jest somewhat: but it means we are now seeing
a more rounded writer, and, let me move to it, a major poet-writer in NZ if we
take, with his previous works, and more recent autobiographical works (one is a sparkling and comical one about his own “haunted” house), together with a Documentary
called <i>Daytime Tiger</i> which his latest book’s blurb says “deals with
Morrissey’s experience of manic depression” and was (in book form) called <i>Taming
the Tigers</i>; if we take all these and more and include<i> Memory Gene Pool, </i>then,
indeed we are talking. Or Morrissey is. He and we are talking a very
significant body of writing. </div>
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<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And he talks in <i>Memory
Gene Pool</i>. It is rare for a poetic collection, even as short as this with
only 21 poems, to be of a consistently high quality of writing. </div>
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These poems are
not poems that try to blow the reader into shock and awe, nor are they
masterpieces of The Fragment. Morrissey here, unlike say in the days of <i>Phosgene</i>
(another gene!?) These poems are as sinuous and as crafted as anything by
Manhire of many of the other NZ “names”. On the face of it they are quiet. The
themes are memory, mental issues, and hence family.</div>
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<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>As to family the
title poem, possibly the best of the poems, is a <i>tour de force. </i>In great
lines we learn of his family, his irascible but kind and inventive father, his
mother who played Kreisler on the violin. But parents are an enigma to us all:</div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Enigmatic the lash of waves,</div>
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<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>like my father’s life, a puzzlement</div>
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<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>wrapped in mystery or history,</div>
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<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>the mouth the shape of the harbour,</div>
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<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
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<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>toothless and timeless like the old man,</div>
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But he acknowledges the mother who:</div>
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<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>[would] then from the linen cupboard fetch her violin</div>
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<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>and finger up a gypsy caprice by Kreisler</div>
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<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>music to smooth down torn lips of
wallpaper</div>
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<br /></div>
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And we here potentially the ‘voices’ of Churchill of the
Enigma, and lines from <i>Twelfth<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Night</i>.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We hear echoes and
allusions throughout this book but the poetry is Morrissey’s. Touches such as
“finger up” are just right for the poem and to thus describe the playing of the
gypsy music, and “caprice” catches the lightness and joy of that past moment even as the music “smooths
down torn lips’. Despite some possible hinted at dysfunction: we are not in a rich man’s house: but at best, echoed in Morrisey's very high-calibre, and often moving poetry: the reader senses a kind of living harmony
and growing and learning environment is in this house.</div>
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<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>There is also
often a clever complexity (without tortuous difficulty) and a near metaphysical
wit in (particularly the poems in this volume). Instead of sadness and or
depression the term we might expect from Donne, Hobbes, or Burton<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>- 'Melancholia' is employed to excellent
effect in <i>Appraisal.</i></div>
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<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><i>Appraisal</i></div>
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<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>The horizon’s at the end of the line.</div>
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<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Okay with that? Our last belief</div>
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<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>passed over like a rib of cloud.</div>
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<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Melancholia arrived beautiful </div>
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<span style="mso-tab-count: 2;"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>as a glamoured up vampire, …</div>
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And then:</div>
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<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>There is no kiss sweeter than </div>
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<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>the one that kills…..</div>
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<br /></div>
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Is weakened by my quotation and shortening of the poem: but
even that it is a little like a line from a pop song, is a clever move. The
entire poem requires itself. The reader will see this if he or she can get hold
of a copy of this book.</div>
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<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Morrissey deals
with love passion death and time and reconciliation, and belief (seen in the next extraordinarily
good poem <i>Between the Ears</i>); and themes of love and loss - in other words those things essential to any good or great
poetry. </div>
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<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But don’t fear,
there is still the slightly sardonic, somewhat dark, ambiguous writer here of
the earlier days as well as the (more or less minimalist compression of William
Carlos Williams*) and perhaps something of Reverdy, Wallace Stevens, Bishop, or
the shorter poems of John Ashbery. There is a necessary ambiguity and depth of
texture, and mystery: and a crafty use of words. There is also sheer beauty,
sheer emotion, and feeling and ideas, all compressed by subtle texture as in
the following ‘existential’ poem of near despair, perhaps clarifying to
hope.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>This poem, where complexity and
deftness of touch reinvent beauty, is called <i>Look at Us.</i> I <i>have</i>
to quote in full, it caught my mind and eye but on careful reading, and
re-reading <i>aloud</i> (yes, like the reader St. Augustine surprised reading
silently (or was it aloud?)) I (in my case sometimes) read poems and books
aloud, supposedly as was the common rule in the time of <i>The Confessions</i>
for the full effect:</div>
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<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span><i>Look at Us</i></div>
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<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Look at us. Are we not sweet as heaven?</div>
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<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Molten sunlight breaks up the edges,</div>
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<span style="mso-tab-count: 2;"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>whiskey glows like fool’s gold.</div>
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<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Begin with the alphabet, end</div>
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<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
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<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>with the language spoken by the wise.</div>
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<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Or the foolish. The cicadas have
rubbed</div>
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<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>up a middle way, science
fiction monster</div>
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<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>throbbing like a pulse. Not to be
feared,</div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>not to be beautiful but a blue</div>
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<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>region, uninhabited, yet habitable.</div>
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<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The garden, scarfed with weed</div>
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<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>is a slow dance through time.</div>
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<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
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<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Look at us. We are dying so slowly</div>
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<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>it seems we are alive, ever enduring</div>
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<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>until that arrived that cannot be</div>
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<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>endured. And yet. And yet. Yes. </div>
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<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><i><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span></i><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
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<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
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Find the echoes, find the allusions reader, be a bit bitter
that 'The Fragment' has departed for now: but I doubt anyone alive can go past
this. Revile it or, like me, get all “over the top” and talk of poetic genius”, but
here it is, undeniable.<br />
<br />
I rest my case. <span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
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________________________________________________________________________</div>
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*Williams has been misunderstood, especially his phrase re
poetry being a “small machine made of words” and his comment about there being
“no ideas but in things”. For these are taken out of Imaginations, a long work
including a long discussion regarding the role of the imagination in poetry.
Williams, the friend of Pound, Stevens, Moore and Ginsberg, as well as being
deeply interested in visual art and modernism, was doctor. But he was far from
a simplistic realist, any more than James Joyce or Virginia Woolf were.<br />
<br />
<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">**I read Harris's book, I thought it great, also I have seen both the films, and <i>Silence of the Lambs</i> more than once. His book is really worth reading if you have a spare few days. </span></div>
Richardhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10272507198753290435noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4271780116609645495.post-5002454042217222812013-08-07T01:20:00.001-07:002013-09-12T03:51:42.939-07:00Richardhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10272507198753290435noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4271780116609645495.post-68945700679969740082013-05-03T18:10:00.003-07:002013-05-03T18:26:59.365-07:00<br />
<br />
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<br />
<br />
<b> </b><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><b><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><span style="background-color: red;"> <span style="color: yellow;">My First Day at School </span> </span></span></b></span></span><br />
<b><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large; mso-spacerun: yes;"><span style="background-color: red;"> AND PRESSURE </span></span></span> </b><br />
<br />
<br />
<b>I have duplicated this post </b>[although this is not strictly true as the format is different here, hence some colours are changed (so the words can be seen), and so is the whole "feel of it", so thus it can be seen to be 'different but the same'. EYELIGHT or Blog 1 is also quite stark and "dramatic" compared to this Blog., i.e. Blog 2] as I feel it also belongs in this "more direct" or anecdotal Blog. That it is part of the component of The Personal or Knowledge Science etc (very broad categories of the various threads of EYELIGHT that either are self sufficient or come together or are fragmented etc( is problematic. But I believe in being consistent once I have defined a system.<br />
<br />
Some of the things placing it in EYELIGHT are (examples)<br />
<br />
a) The typically rather naive and "enthusiastic" use of colour and various fonts etc<br />
<br />
b) Leaving in accidents and using them.<br />
<br />
c) Provocative terminology. Of course "Mein Kampf" should ring bells! (But the idea of struggle came to me also via my reading as a teenager of 'Emanuel Lasker's Chess Manual'. Lasker was one of the greatest chess players ever, and the second official World Chess Champion. His chess book includes a lot of "philosophy". He was also a mathematician and a friend of Einstein's.<br />
<br />
d) Repetition of images (used extensively in EYELIGHT as "leitmotifs"). But the image repetition simply hasn't been removed in this case. But my description in <i>purple-coloured</i> writing (significance of that colour realized after the event (I love bright colours and contrasts etc) but left in now!) , of Rome etc connects back to Hitler via (by implication) Caesar (Kaisar) and to the seeming (or real?) celebration of the film Caligula (and hence Caligula et al?) which I saw, and the "of course everyone knows about Prokofiev..." which is ridiculous as I only discovered this by chance myself.<br />
The ominous music from Prokofiev's* opera IS used in the scene described.<br />
<br />
But by and large everything else is straight up, except perhaps my (partly because of laziness, aprtlyimpihens) deliberately naive pictures of the process of the pressure experiment. But there is no guile in my fascination with that. I watched the "barrel crush" on the link given about 20 times!<br />
The only guile perhaps is that of a writer who might want to be like or sound like a child re-experiencing or first-experiencing certain primal experiences in life.<br />
<br />
But all up this is anecdotal and as true as I can get it or recall it so it is thus now become a mitotic reproduction (almost except for these "instructions" that seem to have come from the Author ).<br />
<br />
Put another way I love systems, classifications and lists and systems of order (but of course entropy always wins out over order.) So to keep consistency this is now simultaneously in what I now call Blog 1 and Blog 2 .<br />
<br />
Repetition is truth? <br />
<br />
*Prokofiev, one of the great 20 Century Russian composers, was a keen and very good chess player. He describes in excited detail the day he got to play Capablanca (Lasker's successor as World Chess Champion), in a simul (that is the Master plays several chess players simultaneously, an example is Kasparov who sometimes played three Grandmasters at once! But usually, either with or without sight of the board the opposition are "wood-pushers".) <br />
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<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">Room 22 exp 3.3 </span></div>
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<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
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<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> <span style="background-color: red;"> <span style="font-size: large;"><span style="color: yellow; font-size: x-large;">My First Day at School </span> </span> </span> </span></div>
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<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
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<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> <span style="color: red;"><span style="background-color: yellow;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">THE MYSTERY OF PRESSURE </span></span> </span></span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgroNLXgqj0vcvpqXQDg5pa8V1ue5n1dcXmEbuWwne8xrkf0C1BENbIPi0idyCyI3Kfka7J1y3_fT9EeOSflKo2K_wcYbrb0Pzn4t7IeC_4GnX1JqBhWU9Y3l1od4Ctbe1aV0gXCO_7URc/s1600/Personal+-+Tamaki+Primary+Feb+2013+008.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgroNLXgqj0vcvpqXQDg5pa8V1ue5n1dcXmEbuWwne8xrkf0C1BENbIPi0idyCyI3Kfka7J1y3_fT9EeOSflKo2K_wcYbrb0Pzn4t7IeC_4GnX1JqBhWU9Y3l1od4Ctbe1aV0gXCO_7URc/s400/Personal+-+Tamaki+Primary+Feb+2013+008.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhlhh4NlnkZrK7hnl0BZlLx15EccSyYMxXeBDIZe5L8fPaVJ9jy7-3ao47zxO8ntrtPYmcznV5rxFvDKnq285EOPRFTpgjrWsdDezsqXwjbDdfYF0c89kajXIbxNC4hTxmohkhhlX4aNnQ/s1600/Personal+-+Tamaki+Primary+Feb+2013+009.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhlhh4NlnkZrK7hnl0BZlLx15EccSyYMxXeBDIZe5L8fPaVJ9jy7-3ao47zxO8ntrtPYmcznV5rxFvDKnq285EOPRFTpgjrWsdDezsqXwjbDdfYF0c89kajXIbxNC4hTxmohkhhlX4aNnQ/s320/Personal+-+Tamaki+Primary+Feb+2013+009.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjoKGnYpmh3Gs0FuO9hngeXCKR-1hdL1XbO1lfLw4OUzB3rEDGe7kt8aBPUldrMjSFmkCNiVuwbf5PPi5ms2xnwByXzijBrw5CsBAg6yHb83RlI4TWZnOGJytx38fRZ-4a2jFAIyTDxUbc/s1600/Personal+-+Tamaki+Primary+Feb+2013+010.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjoKGnYpmh3Gs0FuO9hngeXCKR-1hdL1XbO1lfLw4OUzB3rEDGe7kt8aBPUldrMjSFmkCNiVuwbf5PPi5ms2xnwByXzijBrw5CsBAg6yHb83RlI4TWZnOGJytx38fRZ-4a2jFAIyTDxUbc/s320/Personal+-+Tamaki+Primary+Feb+2013+010.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">==============================================================</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="color: red;"><span style="font-size: large;">‘Mein Kampf’
Part 0ne. </span></span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>There has
been a delay in my postings. Several things have occurred although nothing
awful or really problematic. Life seems good enough considering I am now 65.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
At such an age one tends (or at least I do) to continually
recall events at quite distinct times in one’s life. I am just now in the
middle of a project to paint my house and in discussing it or thinking about it
I recall that it was a state house (I remember painters coming her circa 1952
or so and my mother giving them tea). Then I recall my father working on what
is now the area where I have a dining table. I used to watch him hammering away
and mixing concrete etc. I was fascinated by the way he mixed concrete and indeed
mixing and laying concrete and the theory of concrete later became something of
quite some interest. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But as a young man
I was never much “good with my hands”. Partly this was an inherent confidence
thing and the other part was that, although we lived in a (mainly white
European) state housing area, my father had a very well paid job as an
architect-engineer. So, unlike many in the area (Panmure) in the 50s I didn’t
have to do anything. We were never asked to contribute to chores or anything. I
was in fact, myself, quite “coddled”, and what other boys would have called a
“Mummy’s boy… We children were never “poor” (but not hugely rich as there were
four of us including two older sister and one younger brother). My father
bought the house from the Holyoake Government (he was always a strong National
Party supporter) I moved back into in 1990 (I lived here from about 1948 to
1969 or so).<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>So we children were
not required to do anything. (None of this affected my brother who was very
bright, and flew through most of these difficulties I experienced. But I think
he was also affected by the rather overprotective way of our parents, and the
strangeness of my father, which more anon.) Our parents washed the dishes and
my father, while he was a very concerned and good man, erred in perhaps an
anxiety in keeping me largely from practical things. I recall once I wanted to
help paint the shed and he gave me a brush, but after a few seconds he took it
off me, saying, “you are just not practical”.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>I later incorporated those very words into a poem I read at Poetry Live.
There were many other instances of that. I was quite mothered. I was a nervous
child and had to have nerve tablets as old as 8 or so. Later I had a severe
nervous breakdown in 1967. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I had a deep lack
of confidence. But I can’t blame all that on my parents. (There was a
genotypical aspect as at about the age of 8 I had to have nerve pills, as did
my son when he was that age. And my father was very very “nervy”.)<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>By and large I had a very happy childhood.
Possibly my happiest years were from the age of 7 to 11 or so, although memory
tends to select out the bad memories.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The mind (at 65 as
I experience it) indeed tends to jump from time to time. From my childhood in
the 50s, to my life at school, to my life as a worker, my sudden deep interest
in “protest politics” and Marxism etc, and later my marriage and work as a
Lineman for the C&M Branch of the New Zealand Post Office. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I joined there in
1973 and did an apprenticeship (analogous to becoming an electrician). I
started in the Newmarket Depot, moved to Victoria Street (I was living in
Dickens street Ponsonby and sued to bicycle to Newmarket everyday until I moved
to the Vic Street Depot).<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The C&M
means Construction and Maintenance and basically it meant all work associated
with telecommunications outside of the Telephone exchanges and also aside from
the Radio section. We were Lineman and did basically what Chorus “technicians”
now do. Technicians in those days however worked on relays etc or they were
“Transmission techs”. But the work interconnected. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Recently to remind
me more of these things I have had a series of reunions. Tamaki College, Tamaki
Intermediate and the C&M Branch reunion on the 30<sup>th</sup> of March
this year. </div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I haven’t been to
a Tamaki Primary reunion but last year I caught up with my friend Peter Hunter
who was with me at that school and who lived down the road. He became an
engineer and is now a biomedical engineer. We used to play as kids and had
great times. We re-enacted the war “Westerns” and had a “club”. The Hunters
took me to the original <i>The Wonderful Wizard of Oz</i> (which I still recall
vividly as wonderful indeed), and to <i>Fantasia</i>.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I also recall my
first day at primary school.</div>
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<span style="font-size: x-large;"><b><span style="color: magenta;"><i>Escape!</i></span></b></span><br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxWgzwNJfShRhnj-QsLNlWRTKU8a9MUWhdjhyphenhyphenjdjIoaB7INNHkeTMwV6YkK_x883NEIJEVmxdZsuErv5qWTAOeuNvz5i60GmRveSSP9YlaE0Lp18lZF7nvVy0yZYv7JLrOSz1LVf7xyzU/s1600/Personal+-+Panmure+GI+etc+047.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxWgzwNJfShRhnj-QsLNlWRTKU8a9MUWhdjhyphenhyphenjdjIoaB7INNHkeTMwV6YkK_x883NEIJEVmxdZsuErv5qWTAOeuNvz5i60GmRveSSP9YlaE0Lp18lZF7nvVy0yZYv7JLrOSz1LVf7xyzU/s320/Personal+-+Panmure+GI+etc+047.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The very steps I "hodged" to and down about 58 years ago.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjvL4VE9ot-ha04heY21gUCq88QHJvwgvS3-qtQqjJbYHf4C_tB_yvWckbSi5Cs3eviXlK62uDxkIlTAFvri75L34-rks39VWwdCIMqmuDgXv8A-Ul5si2KOUoIKjOEaA7Cd1NtPASdqRk/s1600/Personal+-+Panmure+GI+etc+049.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjvL4VE9ot-ha04heY21gUCq88QHJvwgvS3-qtQqjJbYHf4C_tB_yvWckbSi5Cs3eviXlK62uDxkIlTAFvri75L34-rks39VWwdCIMqmuDgXv8A-Ul5si2KOUoIKjOEaA7Cd1NtPASdqRk/s320/Personal+-+Panmure+GI+etc+049.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Near the Principal's Office of Tamaki Primary today. It is much the same.</td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">But the demographic has changed.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I had been looking
forward to this (although I forget if I knew what it meant to be going to
school) and my mother took me. When we arrived I was enrolled and saw a rather
large, and to me then, formidable woman, smacking a girl child who was crying
quite vigorously. This was quite frightening. Then my mother said good-bye. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I was astounded!
Where was she going? Surely I wasn’t to be left here alone? I cried and created
a fuss, but my mother left (she was never “hard hearted” but she perhaps was
rather looking forward to a break!</div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Then I was placed in
the very end class. That is picture of me outside the very class (much older now ca 2011. I began school ca 1954. </div>
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<br /></div>
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A few more shots of the school as it is today:</div>
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<br /></div>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjoKGnYpmh3Gs0FuO9hngeXCKR-1hdL1XbO1lfLw4OUzB3rEDGe7kt8aBPUldrMjSFmkCNiVuwbf5PPi5ms2xnwByXzijBrw5CsBAg6yHb83RlI4TWZnOGJytx38fRZ-4a2jFAIyTDxUbc/s1600/Personal+-+Tamaki+Primary+Feb+2013+010.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjoKGnYpmh3Gs0FuO9hngeXCKR-1hdL1XbO1lfLw4OUzB3rEDGe7kt8aBPUldrMjSFmkCNiVuwbf5PPi5ms2xnwByXzijBrw5CsBAg6yHb83RlI4TWZnOGJytx38fRZ-4a2jFAIyTDxUbc/s320/Personal+-+Tamaki+Primary+Feb+2013+010.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Children playing much as we did in the 50s.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2Po24sbn07ywN6q0J1sJxElIwH6ZO_CK-5tvvzGt892SVuugYqF9fyD8y27IrpTTDbk2KE62smdMsFe_Ikp_wzAn5t209-res1Hej3w6nxVqxpXQazxt1E-3aVc2LJ4ITGuEet6RkwQ4/s1600/Personal+-+Tamaki+Primary+School+%2526+Trees+Feb+2013+009.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2Po24sbn07ywN6q0J1sJxElIwH6ZO_CK-5tvvzGt892SVuugYqF9fyD8y27IrpTTDbk2KE62smdMsFe_Ikp_wzAn5t209-res1Hej3w6nxVqxpXQazxt1E-3aVc2LJ4ITGuEet6RkwQ4/s320/Personal+-+Tamaki+Primary+School+%2526+Trees+Feb+2013+009.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The class at the extreme LHS is the one I "escaped" from.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgR8yA2YYz0k7zVal-FyonrnQQ_fpUW1vtTzrH0eE8eYi-inOCjVhTGatUBxh5AMAGOIBz3CeOJf0gNiCeRqvZct2lvepB1xxD9ShyphenhyphenNHXvV1C2XRAvTHyh7UHAzi9ivToeI-mzP8f70LdY/s1600/Personal+-+Panmure+GI+etc+046.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgR8yA2YYz0k7zVal-FyonrnQQ_fpUW1vtTzrH0eE8eYi-inOCjVhTGatUBxh5AMAGOIBz3CeOJf0gNiCeRqvZct2lvepB1xxD9ShyphenhyphenNHXvV1C2XRAvTHyh7UHAzi9ivToeI-mzP8f70LdY/s320/Personal+-+Panmure+GI+etc+046.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjR5uGWfWScVaz59oc7NKL3jUYwWrnxym72XV5nn0O1iJPnHW2KJkyD553dBVaSGRSV4j37JkQNMh-qKJNXVoNbLwFl5bag_Qn0m_Ut6uPYRHVybHh3u_5Mkd9XBVuP0-DXa3DD1G8UvPU/s1600/Personal+-+Panmure+GI+etc+048.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjR5uGWfWScVaz59oc7NKL3jUYwWrnxym72XV5nn0O1iJPnHW2KJkyD553dBVaSGRSV4j37JkQNMh-qKJNXVoNbLwFl5bag_Qn0m_Ut6uPYRHVybHh3u_5Mkd9XBVuP0-DXa3DD1G8UvPU/s320/Personal+-+Panmure+GI+etc+048.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjvL4VE9ot-ha04heY21gUCq88QHJvwgvS3-qtQqjJbYHf4C_tB_yvWckbSi5Cs3eviXlK62uDxkIlTAFvri75L34-rks39VWwdCIMqmuDgXv8A-Ul5si2KOUoIKjOEaA7Cd1NtPASdqRk/s1600/Personal+-+Panmure+GI+etc+049.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjvL4VE9ot-ha04heY21gUCq88QHJvwgvS3-qtQqjJbYHf4C_tB_yvWckbSi5Cs3eviXlK62uDxkIlTAFvri75L34-rks39VWwdCIMqmuDgXv8A-Ul5si2KOUoIKjOEaA7Cd1NtPASdqRk/s320/Personal+-+Panmure+GI+etc+049.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The Principal's Office</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I will digress here again. When I went to the Tamaki College
and the Tamaki Intermediate reunion what I wanted was not to see how it is now
or to see photographs of sports events etc but to see photographs and hopefully
at Tamaki Intermediate to meet Mrs. Marshall or Mr. Newman or Mrs. Rae. Other
men looked longingly at the sports teams (I was never in any, I hated sports).
Others were interested in old girlfriends and friends (I had almost none, I had
some friends, but it wasn’t till I left school that I had a girlfriend. I was
attracted to girls but deeply shy. I was in those days almost pathologically
introverted.<br />
<br />
=======================================================================<br />
<i><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="color: magenta;">There really had been a vast and powerful Roman Empire ruled by sane, or sapient, rulers [Hadrian (read the novel about him by Marguerite Yourcenar), Marcus Aurelius (one of the few philosopher-emperors) and the gloriously depraved such as Nero and Caligula (and we all remember Prokofiev's awesome music from his Romeo and Juliet as the killing wheels decapitate the Emperor's enemies buried up to their heads in that film). </span></span></i><br />
=================================================================</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But I was
interested in learning. I was not fast, but I was always interested. I was
interested in everything taught us and I came to very much enjoy studying. I
would study (at high school) Latin, Biology and Chemistry of read Shakespeare
etc for hours. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
At primary school I recall the magic of learning to read and
write and how to multiply numbers. I was not good at maths really, but adding a
3 thing to a 2 to make 5 seemed quite beautiful. Later I had an electricity set
and learnt about magnetism, voltage, current, “make and break switches”, and
transformers etc So I was the person in charge of that in Form 1. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But my great memory
was when Mrs. Marshall (who was an attractive but seemed to me a rather
frighteningly “efficient” woman), was when she demonstrated the existence of
air pressure. Air has pressure. How? How can something we cannot see have
pressure? It seemed impossible. Mrs. Marshall proceeded to demonstrate it:</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She had a small
electric cooker. On this she placed a 1gallon (we worked in gallons, Pounds
shillings and pence, and lbs per square inch etc) can with some water in it and
heated it. When it was boiling she placed the lid on and then, this was her
coup, she poured cold water on the can. The was a tremendous “Crack!” as the
can imploded with the force of, and I will never forget it so dramatic and
exciting was this, 14 lbs per square inch. Bang! The Universe was indeed a
place of mystery. Later I would think about space, and atoms and much else.</div>
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</div>
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</div>
<span style="color: lime;"><span style="font-size: large;">A dramatic and fascinating experiment showing that, external to us and matter, there exists an (more or less invisible) physical pressure of great force. This was shown us at Tamaki Intermediate school by Mrs. Marshall in 1961.</span></span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgrFAD07H9-9ZJ4gTVyl5XKZLKad5d2V2gGg8d7qkcKP_Kgoyldatx5ML4yhp1Z7UReURvhfTskP2Z7kijdKaT7QS0YR1bhxqMPJqO1bB1D7op-0-kyOtMBN2PLhIGqdSBXo_iujLPkKY/s1600/Personal+-+Mrs+Marshalls+Pressure+Exp+May+2013+009.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgrFAD07H9-9ZJ4gTVyl5XKZLKad5d2V2gGg8d7qkcKP_Kgoyldatx5ML4yhp1Z7UReURvhfTskP2Z7kijdKaT7QS0YR1bhxqMPJqO1bB1D7op-0-kyOtMBN2PLhIGqdSBXo_iujLPkKY/s320/Personal+-+Mrs+Marshalls+Pressure+Exp+May+2013+009.jpg" width="265" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A kerosene can is partly filled with water. It sits on a small electric cooker.</td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"> The water is heated to boiling pont (100 deg)</td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td></tr>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFYRmqQ2x9uQ02cEDsC_OcYyU5Jb9udzpcWi1g1aLRCFnMo6w8wPD7bLmp3gQ5Uq1vgU9VPQtfvOPU6-NvTGKj1asoilT2kLyqA5fKi1rHeTlMmVFoT_vP0anNRukveMa9ZQPKFAULwxM/s1600/Personal+-+Mrs+Marshalls+Pressure+Exp+May+2013+005.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFYRmqQ2x9uQ02cEDsC_OcYyU5Jb9udzpcWi1g1aLRCFnMo6w8wPD7bLmp3gQ5Uq1vgU9VPQtfvOPU6-NvTGKj1asoilT2kLyqA5fKi1rHeTlMmVFoT_vP0anNRukveMa9ZQPKFAULwxM/s400/Personal+-+Mrs+Marshalls+Pressure+Exp+May+2013+005.jpg" width="396" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFAxKww4DE8XyNn1QP9seq__gAE9cesYjNNqqGhB_HJwl0U3D1mrfgyIbwh-mVhtiwKHYFDekXXUMfw8lQqNmc2vPN-2y5V4K0ru9Bzk_jms_HH1Jxj2xEPRs5jiBvRSPwGdbaM4u6vsw/s1600/Personal+-+Mrs+Marshalls+Pressure+Exp+May+2013+003.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFAxKww4DE8XyNn1QP9seq__gAE9cesYjNNqqGhB_HJwl0U3D1mrfgyIbwh-mVhtiwKHYFDekXXUMfw8lQqNmc2vPN-2y5V4K0ru9Bzk_jms_HH1Jxj2xEPRs5jiBvRSPwGdbaM4u6vsw/s400/Personal+-+Mrs+Marshalls+Pressure+Exp+May+2013+003.jpg" width="382" /></a></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEih9FR2u4zj4sf-vUGTqAZ6xvzJmgX2oOKjMjNHSME0qCgoY4FKnoCxiozxa7JLFLhZDohAVi3W_mytzmN5ZlFJbz8o_BcVBiz7aVg_HCAIc9VPUGlisi7Y06LhokqWbunD5LbFhUrzWxE/s1600/Personal+-+Mrs+Marshalls+Pressure+Exp+May+2013+002.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEih9FR2u4zj4sf-vUGTqAZ6xvzJmgX2oOKjMjNHSME0qCgoY4FKnoCxiozxa7JLFLhZDohAVi3W_mytzmN5ZlFJbz8o_BcVBiz7aVg_HCAIc9VPUGlisi7Y06LhokqWbunD5LbFhUrzWxE/s400/Personal+-+Mrs+Marshalls+Pressure+Exp+May+2013+002.jpg" width="302" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="color: #cc0000;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><i>With the can full of water vapour (not steam) it drives out air and is at a high enough pressure as it is hot. Cold water suddenly reduced the pressure as the water vapour contracts - in the process "trying" to create vacuum. As Pascal knew "Nature abhors a vacuum" so the ~ 325 kPas (14 lbs /sq inch) crushes the can instantly with a massive bang! It is an unforgettable demonstration and in fact the large 44 gallon drums can be made to "explode" in wards (or implode) in the same way.</i></span></span></span></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="color: #cc0000;"> </span></span></td></tr>
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<br />
Another example of this on video at this link:<br />
<br />
<a href="http://www.physics.umn.edu/video.html?goback=/outreach/pforce/circus/&url=/media/outreach/pforce/circus/videos/AirPressure-CrushBarrel.flv&vidname=Physics%20Force:%20Barrel%20Crush" target="_blank">http://www.physics.umn.edu/video.html?goback=/outreach/pforce/circus/&url=/media/outreach/pforce/circus/videos/AirPressure-CrushBarrel.flv&vidname=Physics%20Force:%20Barrel%20Crush</a><br />
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<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But back to my
first day. We were all seated on the floor. Possibly listening to a story, but
somehow I just wanted to get home to my mother. I recall in the coming weeks a
deep feeling that it was wrong that I had been forced to go to school, that it
was the law.</div>
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As the teacher talked, somehow (I was 6 as I had been held back
a year by a severe illness, I am not sure what it was), I thought that if I
edged myself very very slowly towards the school door, I was then heading for
freedom and my mother. I had a kind of cunning. I did this imperceptibly until
I was about two steps down, still unnoticed. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The same red brick steps are there today (and the school is,
externally at least, much as it was in 1954).</div>
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<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Once there I
suddenly ran. I can’t recall running home but I went like the wind! </div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>My sisters were
sent to find me.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>They were frantic but
probably proud to be in charge of such an important mission! </div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>From that day for
(it seems now to have been weeks but it was probably only days): I would depart
for school with school bag, but stop on the porch. My mother would remonstrate
with me and I would cry and rant. The more she said the police would intervene
or I had to go to school the more I dug in. </div>
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<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Eventually I got
through school and got my University Entrance in 1965.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>School proved to be
of great value to me.</div>
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<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>At Tamaki College a
man from the days of the early 60s, said he hated classroom learning but liked
sports, meeting people and especially girls. </div>
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<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I hated sports,
mostly avoided people and loved studying Latin, Biology, Chemistry and English
Literature. </div>
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<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It was because of
the fascinating lessons in English literature by Mr. Newman, and Mrs. Rae (both
of whom I realize must be now dead, or very old) that meant it was THEM I
wanted to see and even speak to. (I also loved studying Biology, in which I was
once dux of the school - ironically getting a copy of Stevenson's <i><b>Dr Jekyll and Mr Hyde </b></i> as a prize.) Nor did I want the NOW. In a special space my memory
tantalizingly half held but to which I could (terribly?) never return, was
where I deeply wanted to be. I wanted to reach across time to them and Mr.
Watson my Latin teacher and Mrs. Rae who (mistakenly but flatteringly) called
me a “self-taught genius…and teased us boys when in The Merchant of Venice
there is reference to “the Jewess’s eyes” and then took us through that whole
play. (And Lear, and Romeo and Juliet…or was that Newman?) It was he, as we
came across: “What’s in a name? A rose by any other name would smell as sweet.”
(Juliet on the Capulets and the Montagues.) And we discussed the name of
‘Hitler’. Had he not been the ferocious leader of Germany, looking at him, even
with <i>that</i> name, he would appear like any other English (German) idiot!
(We laughed.)<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It was Mr. Newman who
talked of the inappropriateness of certain language. “A farmer meeting another
would be unlikely to say: ‘It’s very inclement weather today.’”! We laughed
then also. (Exultate! iuvenes dum sumus.) Mr. Caldwell urged us to read as much
as we could, as life was like moving down a corridor, with side rooms or side
passages leading off it – these were the “worlds” of novels and poems and much
else.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
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---------------------------------- ----------------------------------------- -----------------------------<br />
<span style="color: magenta;"><span style="font-size: large;">BIOLOGY CHEMISTRY ENGLISH LATIN</span></span><br />
<br />
<span style="color: red;"><span style="font-size: large;">The Mystery of Molecules, Life and the Power of the Roman Empire</span></span><br />
............................................. ........................................................................................<br />
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<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Then there were
Lamb, Hazlitt, and Huxley’s essays. Biology was protoplasm and mystery and the
new knowledge of cellular genetics. Chemistry (erotic and arousing for me as
the girls practiced “Phys Ed.” not far from the window where we were…) was the
strangeness, the beautiful fearfulness, of atoms and processes. Latin had a
pleasing certainty. The complex of language, the constructions. The safeness of
constructing and remaking. The Romans, the origins or words, Julius Caesars’
writings about the barbaric Germanic and Brittanic tribes (they made “twigs of
men” and burnt them alive I put many years later into a poem.) who used their
memory not books (the Druids).<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The long
long roads, the tortoise of shields as they once more attacked the Welsh.
Hannibal and his elephants charging toward Rome. Sextus going from his domus to
the magister to learn. The columns, ‘O tempores, O mores!’ ‘Quid novi’ What
news? </div>
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<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>There really <i>had
been</i> a vast and distant Roman Empire. </div>
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Richardhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10272507198753290435noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4271780116609645495.post-60298002477145496342013-01-27T19:12:00.003-08:002013-01-27T20:45:33.636-08:00<!--[if gte mso 9]><xml>
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<span style="font-size: x-large;"><u>HAPPY NEW YEAR!! </u></span></div>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLwzpVwtP9_C558Ez6DcyCO-d6CYil6mIxzyFMyxg_vNvFy4u2Qj7W-L9bOXqd8EU1C72p_pPacPKycLYouM_PvoI8TlN0IBCkqM5zOr1yUFquYk8pIh29qx-xhmcpVmeiNk1CHTs3B2FM/s1600/New+Years+Day+2013+Murder+B.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="265" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLwzpVwtP9_C558Ez6DcyCO-d6CYil6mIxzyFMyxg_vNvFy4u2Qj7W-L9bOXqd8EU1C72p_pPacPKycLYouM_PvoI8TlN0IBCkqM5zOr1yUFquYk8pIh29qx-xhmcpVmeiNk1CHTs3B2FM/s400/New+Years+Day+2013+Murder+B.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Murder scene (on Pilkington Road, Panmure) only a few hundred metres from my own house on New Year's Day</td></tr>
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New Year 2013 got off to a pretty dark start. Vic and I
(having really done nothing at all on New Year’s Eve, except I tuned to the TV
once to see if there was any indication of it being a significant time but
there was nothing. All there was were some fireworks. I recall as a boy and not
too long ago hearing ships’ horns on 12. But there was nothing so I continued
reading. The date is arbitrary in any case. Neither Vic nor I drink so, unlike
many or “Michael” the young drunk man I saw few days previous to Xmas, we had
no hangovers.</div>
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Xmas was good seeing my daughters and 2 new grandchildren
but I have to say that by and large for me the day is always an ordeal. I
reminded of past events, relationships, and emotions. </div>
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However, seeing everyone else is good – but I may leave Xmas
out in future. </div>
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( I enjoyed it as boy hugely. )</div>
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But before all this there was the incident of the young
drunk man. (To be related in another Blog post).</div>
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But the “big one” was New Year’s Day. We set out to walk,
intending to go up Mt Wellington, or Maungarei. But we only got about 200
yards. At the end of our street there was a police tape across the road. At
first we thought it might have been a major accident and that the Power Board*
were repairing broken poles etc. A security guard told me it had been murder.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgpoCaLC7JU7YoGan2Mc-K-nQaHSEk0JDjyzEtxAgfvr5FY3-PXqrjUucM-QlmhyUbAKctGfocF7k4f3gFXptVjypXSAP5SAx3X5f19HfqLf-vLe6QvTg53u4VPEkUQVM6b3c-diKXv4rY6/s1600/New+Years+Day+2013+Murder+2B.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="180" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgpoCaLC7JU7YoGan2Mc-K-nQaHSEk0JDjyzEtxAgfvr5FY3-PXqrjUucM-QlmhyUbAKctGfocF7k4f3gFXptVjypXSAP5SAx3X5f19HfqLf-vLe6QvTg53u4VPEkUQVM6b3c-diKXv4rY6/s320/New+Years+Day+2013+Murder+2B.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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A murder on day one! Happy New Year!! At least I didn’t have
hangover. But this was only one of the murders and acts of violence that
happened that day or the next.</div>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhyTiFLTXJTrA9zz2UM7lGU7384hRfQdIILZpDuvtnkkbsWYpIspHi2xesE0WP0XlkGKHnbfs5xMTfNPXAvEOjlWzNgohPi9LhWO0dV9JDDgA7-tanW9asVnXIAZGcjRtILr_7YRoWLlcrS/s1600/New+Years+Day+2013+Murder+3.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhyTiFLTXJTrA9zz2UM7lGU7384hRfQdIILZpDuvtnkkbsWYpIspHi2xesE0WP0XlkGKHnbfs5xMTfNPXAvEOjlWzNgohPi9LhWO0dV9JDDgA7-tanW9asVnXIAZGcjRtILr_7YRoWLlcrS/s320/New+Years+Day+2013+Murder+3.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Police looking like space men or actors in a postmodern drama - investigate the killing.</td></tr>
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[I took my own photographs, but they turned out to be unusable as I had accidentally "reset" my camera to a "macro setting" (I later leaned this term from a police photographer) - hence they were very blurred and useless)] </div>
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However, the Police, rather defensively assured me that they
had otherwise a relatively good night, but that they had been a bit short
staffed.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We diverted our walk through a
nearby park where we used to play in the 50s (Brian Mace, Bruce and the
others), and where in earlier days still my father and I tried to get kite
airborne (it did for some time and it was exciting). </div>
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On the return the police were still there (they would be
there taking measurements and interviewing for about 5 days or so.) [When, 25 days after the tragic incident, I rephotographed the "scene" - as my original picture were accidentally blurred - a police photographer was still taking extra photographs. We had brief discussion about cameras etc And some (useless) speculation of my own [on the event and various tragic issues, and, say Aeida or Hamlet or R&J, was added to the mix.] </div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEguwccur3A2C-S7NsCt5zMhvQLeiFunVy0khJh3PKlJ_ZFYcCZj-c5Gh9aCiMsi7D9ilrxYz9-VOPEHimDZ58_rmw6ImKnsuLf7E4T_DH0YUk_tNt2Hp5OHOpZMcvYsHG3CksCcJxidg1MB/s1600/New+Years+Day+Murder+2013+008.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEguwccur3A2C-S7NsCt5zMhvQLeiFunVy0khJh3PKlJ_ZFYcCZj-c5Gh9aCiMsi7D9ilrxYz9-VOPEHimDZ58_rmw6ImKnsuLf7E4T_DH0YUk_tNt2Hp5OHOpZMcvYsHG3CksCcJxidg1MB/s320/New+Years+Day+Murder+2013+008.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A police photographer (there have been surveyors, detectives, photographers - the works - for 20 or more days.) She showed me that what I had accidentally switched my camera setting to, on the 1st day of this year,was "macro" - close up - hence the blurring of all my pictures since 1st of Jan 2013 until the night before. Like most technicians (or ex techs) I read the technical manual only as a last resort! My old camera is easily put out of its setting. Need a new one.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhNwF1dTHZJx3NyCJJ7mKvqYj_ovxm_RNNVLf2gKwdE1XSlqJGEb8EP0u7gqT9pgtVh9hI2Dvxj5gtu4Be_z56Jl5xjclx1lud3X0jR4Hh1ZHdFXluVXNtIoXpidNIbsIv02Ui34pFekRzY/s1600/New+Years+Day+Murder+2013+005.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhNwF1dTHZJx3NyCJJ7mKvqYj_ovxm_RNNVLf2gKwdE1XSlqJGEb8EP0u7gqT9pgtVh9hI2Dvxj5gtu4Be_z56Jl5xjclx1lud3X0jR4Hh1ZHdFXluVXNtIoXpidNIbsIv02Ui34pFekRzY/s320/New+Years+Day+Murder+2013+005.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The blue marks are where blood has dropped.</td></tr>
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I’m not sure if things were “better” in NZ in the 50s but as
to murder, if one occurred, it was big news. </div>
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With total population increase and to some extent and
increase in various economic problems, and class issues, and various other causes
(perhaps there are no “causations" perhaps it is an inevitable function of the
development of technology and so on.) </div>
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Human beings are animals and perhaps the wonderful “success”
of our larger brains has caused our great excess and increased welfare (overall)
and this has lead to a state of complexity beyond analysis or repair. Not just
that we are “overpopulated” (what does “too many people” mean? But simply that
we are incapable of changing things in a way that enables all of us to live
well. </div>
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Who knows, rescue maybe at hand! But there are no
guarantees. We can step back and be as cold and objective as the Universe
itself. It doesn’t see humans as special or having a soul (perhaps in some
mysterious way we do have Aristotle's "animus", though, if we do, but
it is hard to see how or why that words, shall we say: but indeed there is a
Mystery, perhaps insoluble, to life) – it isn’t interested in our art or our
gadgets. Much as we fear death and oblivion, perhaps total extinction. Whether
or not that is our “fate”, and the cockroaches and rats (who are after all
beings also, with “rights” to live – much as we value ourselves and our loved
ones – the situation doesn’t look good!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span></div>
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Nor does the Universe or whatever is out there, in all
probability, while it “surpasseth our understanding”, have any interest (or
understanding?) in (or of) love (as we know it.) John Ashbery somewhere “all
that useless love”…(In 'These Lacustrine Cities' in <i>Rivers and Mountains</i> which includes ‘Civilization and its Discontents’ – named after Freud’s
drear book of that name, and in fact the only book by Freud I have ever
read.)<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><br />
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As Richard Dawkins points out in his excellent books**** (such as <i>The Greatest Show on Earth</i> - seen above, which I read in 2011); we not
at the top of the tree, we are merely accidents hanging off one of the many
branches. We have no special place. We are no more like angels (Shakespeare and
Hamlet are surely ironic in that famous soliloquy); than a lump of senseless
mud is. (Or so it seems. I believe, unlike Dawkins or Freud, that there is
SOMETHING. But what I don’t know. I am not convinced of anything…(and nor am I
as I once was of any “human progress” or Great Revolution to better human state
–we are probably in the best of ( a possibly less than ideal but while
sometimes terrible and perhaps depressing: sometimes an immensely exciting,
world.)<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgHK6MvDanE1wHpuhWsuNKYjyWup6jlgNKI4Uc96uvap0X6qOxKfF-vfGzLcaneIAoUr8fH902S-1lZ7caKz7wNl2_H-qFXrAWdhar7zmKl3L5x7Xv9MBJOU4T1BR2Z7HEAEjNjuw-i9SZY/s1600/New+Years+Day+Murder+2013+002.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgHK6MvDanE1wHpuhWsuNKYjyWup6jlgNKI4Uc96uvap0X6qOxKfF-vfGzLcaneIAoUr8fH902S-1lZ7caKz7wNl2_H-qFXrAWdhar7zmKl3L5x7Xv9MBJOU4T1BR2Z7HEAEjNjuw-i9SZY/s320/New+Years+Day+Murder+2013+002.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrAB4pvzSqEltyMtuZA54YskE65S5-4pCiNkLyaB8069Vy9BAGcm9sE6R45IoGeO2wNCPu5NC8RUSYmQGg1nZK7JBtlG_-D9RiJq619-mCsDa1_qUUJe_XrqU6swjP-rGd2aXkSDSpwv0m/s1600/New+Years+Day+Murder+2013+003.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrAB4pvzSqEltyMtuZA54YskE65S5-4pCiNkLyaB8069Vy9BAGcm9sE6R45IoGeO2wNCPu5NC8RUSYmQGg1nZK7JBtlG_-D9RiJq619-mCsDa1_qUUJe_XrqU6swjP-rGd2aXkSDSpwv0m/s320/New+Years+Day+Murder+2013+003.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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I really don’t know. It sometimes (regardless of murders or
whatever, after all such murder is the basis of Romeo and Juliet (or it could
be if there had been an argument over a woman) and so it is nothing new.</div>
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Nothing new for history: but terrible for the man who died.
If he was knifed he took a long time to die. It was obvious over the coming
days as we watched detectives and forensics peel studying, photographing the
graphic images shoeing movement and violence and scuffle and the body shapes.
It seemed as if the dying one had made his way despairingly, or in great anger
or fear or nth, and in agony (or drunken amazement at his failing powers?)
until he fell sprawled in death on the road, like a bloody and passionate but
no doubt despairing character from Borges’s <i>A Universal History of Infamy</i>,
about 30 or so metres from wherever he was stabbed or attacked with a bottle or
assaulted… </div>
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At first a cause for amazement and even excitement, like
9/11 that exhilarating spectacle on TV of the humiliation of the world’s major
warmongering and arrogant power – but unlike that, I had no reason to enjoy
this. The longer and the more we saw the images of the terrible struggle of a
dying man**, the more it seemed just that: terrible. And senseless.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>If I was going to believe in a Christian or
other God I was even less convinced. </div>
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Shakespeare, our greatest poet, holds out little hope in his
ultimately nihilist (but wonderfully written) plays and poetry, As in his
Macbeth (of life):</div>
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“It is a tale told by an idiot, full of sound and fury,
signifying nothing.”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgOWzzI8tG3FXKqzQOzTfi3Tnd0JlKatP4g2le393RcnRw6cjoa3mYWfRLRVZDjFq-u7zfJpyawUUBRuDwG_XUDJiMXVnXPMVDB6ipEr9hTm5gIw00DM9o9aGxxSOQXzEo_n6HJ6uxgzJ4T/s1600/New+Years+Day+Murder+2013+004.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgOWzzI8tG3FXKqzQOzTfi3Tnd0JlKatP4g2le393RcnRw6cjoa3mYWfRLRVZDjFq-u7zfJpyawUUBRuDwG_XUDJiMXVnXPMVDB6ipEr9hTm5gIw00DM9o9aGxxSOQXzEo_n6HJ6uxgzJ4T/s320/New+Years+Day+Murder+2013+004.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">This seems to be where a fight ended - possibly in a stabbing.</td></tr>
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*I know it’s changed but when I worked for the NZED as a
tech that’s what the local distributor was called…in fact I applied for job
with them in 1988. For me, it should never have been changed. For that we can
thank Gruppenfuhrer Lord Roger Douglas and the 1985 Labour Nazi Party.</div>
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**I have no idea what happened, or who died, or why. The
event shocked me. There have been some terrible murders not far from where I
live (one only about 200 yards up the road where a released inmate, who was
insane (or felt he had been wronged), murdered some workers at the local RSA.
There is plaque there in their memory, although I think that is being moved to
the new RSA in Queens Road.) New Zealand is not the non violent, non racist,
egalitarian society politicians or Travel Agents would have one believe it
is.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><br />
<br />
<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">****I just noticed, by chance, that my "chess friend" and ex NZ Chess Champion, Jonathan Safarti, who is also a scientist (but not a biologist), and who has sometimes commented on line on some of my own chess games (online on Chessgames.com), has written a book "debunking" Dawkins book! I have to say my reservations re Dawkins are his almost fanatical insistence that there is no God (clearly the argument from design, while being philosophically an old and very much questioned argument, cant really be used against evolution as living beings are designed - in comparison with some Great Creator - or perfect being, in very, and even unnecessarily, complex and often in inefficient ways that no human engineer would entertain doing...BUT that evolution is logically consistent [BTW this is different from being "true"] is for me without doubt. For those who believe in the Christian dogma and creation, it becomes more and more problematic to "believe" (why believe if you know?) - and indeed surely some version fo Kierkergaard's "leap of faith" might do the trick. But for me my dubiety re Christianity etc (or the total position of "nothing' taken by Freud, which I don't quite share...) is not a function of my conviction of the clear truth of evolution's reality as now being scientifically proven beyond any reasonable doubt [o.k. we have also to evoke the ~ empirical Humesian arguments vs. or with Locke and Berkley etc etc, but all that another time.] However, proof or not of evolution is NOT, for me, an argument for or against atheism. </span></div>
Richardhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10272507198753290435noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4271780116609645495.post-13457661475017816282012-11-08T00:59:00.000-08:002012-12-09T19:13:08.667-08:00<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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</span>Second Post<br />
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<span style="font-size: 18.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span><span style="font-family: Andy; font-size: 18.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">BIRTHS AND
REUNIONS</span></div>
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Dionne with Blake about 1 day old. <br />
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Dionne working hard. What do do with this new being? Now home, however, things are going well. <br />
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Blake<br />
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Beautiful child and mother, and grey and silly old grandfather.<br />
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I hold Blake. When he is 16 I'll be 80. But life is as it is.<br />
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<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Beverly Lyons – Mark’s mother
with Blake</div>
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The first two and the above photograph(s) were taken inside Waitakare hospital where
Blake, new to the world was delivered. [The pictures have been changed and most are with Blake at about 1 week at home.] It is my third (two in nearly as many
weeks!) and Beverley’s first grandchild.</div>
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Some of the lyrics mark wrote and sang deal with Beverley’s
difficult times working as a solo mother at sweet factory. Hard work and bad
conditions not well remunerated by Capital. Music from the Nudie Suits was
played at our “Taylor” family reunion on Saturday.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Blake is doing well! Dionne is now recovering well at home. (A great thanks to Beverly for her help in this difficult and stressful but good time.) </div>
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Dionne is tired but happy with Blake –her first child!! Mark
is now a father. I have probably already told them all the story ow how
the doctor asked me if I wanted anything when my first child (Victor) was about to
be delivered (suing an epidural etc etc) and I had to sign – and I said: ”Yes,
can you lend me $10?” That was lot as in those days I only earnt $50 a week at
Berger Paints in Panmure (gone now as has Dulux that used to be nearby) as a
Storeman-Labourer. The doctor, clearly a kind man, obliged immediately. Thanks,
I needed it for meals on the weekend (in Ponsonby in 1972). I think this is one
of the rare occasions I have ever asked anyone for money since I started
working.</div>
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Blake’s fingers are tiny beside Dionne’s. </div>
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As can be seen, my daughter Dionne and Mark now have baby
boy, I now have three grandchildren, all boys. That is: Sebastian, Finnegan
(born only about a month previously). Finnegan and Tamasin are also doing well
but leading into this time I was pretty stressed. There was also a reunion at
my old College, and there is to be a reunion –goodbye to Tamaki Intermediate
(as it is closing) and the Taylor family also had a reunion. </div>
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This was mostly those on the Taylor side of the
Miller-Taylor connection. All my relatives are English but I have never been
there. Both my father and his bother Geoff came to N.Z. before the war. My
uncle Geoff was a scientist at the DSIR then worked with local Chinese market
gardeners, and eventually managed a Chemical company in Nelson. He won many
gardening awards also. He also co-authored a book on plant diseases <i>Plant
Protection in New Zealand</i>. (None of this unscientific “organic” rubbish for
him the viri had to be zapped!)** He had 4 children, two boys and two girls.
The eldest, Allison, pointed out that I looked most like my grandfather how
lived most of his life in London. Samuel Aaron Taylor was a business man who
once had a dance studio, was involved at one time in boxing, was eventually a
professional photographer and took and developed methods of stereoscopic
photography for eth RAF during WWI . He was (said to be) a difficult man and I
don’t think well liked by his sons. But – reading between the lines – I think
he was well-meaning and lacked sensitivity. My uncle Geoff, who, for a
scientist (or because he was?), had some strange views: such as women were less
intelligent as they had smaller brains (this is true but untrue – the brain
size is not > to intelligence!), also opined that he was a Jew* (!!) as he
spent a lot of time speculating on the stock market and in fact was one of the
few people to profit from WWII as he bought up bombed houses in the East End,
and as they were rebuilt on Churchill’s orders “brick by brick”, was able to
then sell them at a big profit. He also got into insurance. As my father and he
ceased to communicate after about 1950 or so and there was a degree of
resentment that he had remarried (too soon I think for my father) soon after my
grandmother died (about 1923) from leukaemia; because of this rift my father
would have nothing to do with insurances. At his death in 1987 we found no
house or contents insurance and he had never insure any of his cars,
maintaining that he had “fast reactions” (he did when was you as he was light
weight boxer who accidentally killed the British amateur champion for that
weight.</div>
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By and large, once university educated, both brothers did
well in NZ. </div>
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I had not seen any of my cousins before as they lived in the
South Island. The reunion was great and well organized by my sisters Gillian
and Susan. </div>
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But I must get back to my daughter’s adventures with new
babies and I still haven’t finished my discourse on the Tamaki College reunion.
I’ll continue hat in “Part 3” and meantime see if I can get some images of
Finnegan (Tamasin’s son) up.</div>
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<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Finnegan
at a few days. His father is of Irish derivation so Finnegan it was.</div>
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<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The only
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<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>In that Finnegan is brought to life with
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</span>Two tired people. One, a happy and proud mother, the other busily
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Vic and Finn <br />
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<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Victor holds Finnegan as Sean
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I wonder if he will ever read Joyce’s huge book? If he does
he will have gone one more than me! I’ve got as far as listening to Joyce on
library tape. I have read a huge bio of JJ and his other main books. Sean is
also interested in Formula one so perhaps he has a choice of being a musician,
a prosperous bricklayer or building contractor, or another Fangio!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>God forefend he be poet or chess player,
but, hmm…stranger things have happened!</div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"> The Taylor Family. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">A preview of the Taylor family reunion - Left to Right - My cousins</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Roger Taylor, Alison and Barbara. My sisters Susan McIntosh, Gillian. My brother Dennis and myself. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">At the far right is my cousin John Taylor. </span></div>
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*Many Jewish people in Europe converted to Christianity but
as far as I know none of that branch of my family had professed or practiced
any religion as such. My uncle and dad tended to develop a dark tan and looked
rather “swarthy”, so I and others also speculated possible Spanish or Italian
derivation…but not all Englishmen have blue eyes or blond hair (fewer by % in
Germany have in fact, despite Hitler’s theories.) although my uncle Frank
Miller, on my mother’s side, who looked a bit like Jimmy Edwards, did and
looked like the ache typical war time RAF bomber pilot which he was…</div>
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**However in about 1959 I won a gardening competition (It
was easy as my father did all the work of planting etc which actually did me no
favours. I actually felt ashamed that other boys had not done well – their
gardens were very meager in comparison to mine, as my father used to bury the
food rubbish regularly, and indeed, I “cheated”. This also was one more of
those many things he “did for me” thus eroding my confidence. But I will deal
with this when I talk about my severe nervous breakdown and my subsequent
lifetime addiction to sedatives etc as well as my huge and continuing constant
preoccupation with death.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The problems
of my life were not that we were poor, but that we gad almost too much, and to
compensate for some psychological lack or (lack of love in his child hood?),
and indeed as a response to his own quite hyper-nervous state, my father and
mother to some extent) over compensated by letting us do more or less anything
we wanted.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>This further increased any
inherent neurasthenia I had. That is the genotype reacts with the environment
to produce an individual. As a child and teenager I was in general very “dark”,
quite self-centred, and extremely neurasthenic. </div>
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<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Now I was however
very excited by the garden, and amazed at how corn and pumpkins and much else
could grow so large from small seeds. Then I asked my father why the corn had
yellow leaves. My father suggested I write to uncle Geoff (“He’ll be tickled
pink…”), who was then in plant pathology, and he sent a letter and also a book
he just written. But while the blood and bone, and use of superphosphate,
recommendations were good, just about everything else was to be treated by
mixing DDT in the soil before planting (and also to be put in some cases
directly on the leaves). However, in 1959, Rachel Carson’s book The <i>Silent
Spring</i> had not yet been written. The ecological hysteria hadn’t begun.
After she wrote that Kennedy ordered an investigation and some evidence was
found that DDT can be harmful (mainly to marine life and it also caused
thinning of the shells of eagles etc). However chemicals such as DDT saved the
lives of millions of people in the meantime. However some controversial issues.
Copper oxychloride solutions, used on potatoes and tomatoes) could well have
saved the lives of millions of the Irish who otherwise died as result of the
potato blight – this was something my uncle worked on. But of course, the
misrule, exploitation, and mistreatment by the English rulers of Ireland etc
was a major factor in this and many other human disasters throughout the
world.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
Richardhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10272507198753290435noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4271780116609645495.post-52349531960494328242012-10-28T01:52:00.003-07:002013-09-12T03:51:42.942-07:00Richardhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10272507198753290435noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4271780116609645495.post-91108562677763832362012-10-28T01:52:00.001-07:002013-09-12T03:51:42.949-07:00Richardhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10272507198753290435noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4271780116609645495.post-44641885831199162382012-10-06T03:17:00.000-07:002012-10-28T03:55:39.899-07:00First Post of New 'Normative' Blog<br />
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NOTA BENE - <span style="color: red;">This is "in progress" but I decided to put it up in any case. But there is more to be done. Since I started this I went to school re-union and a family reunion is coming up (and also my other daughter is expecting a child in about 1 week): so I will be adding more to this and some more images of my earlier times. </span><br />
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This post is to test my new Blog "Richard, You MUST try to be more focused..." which takes a quote from the start of a "section" of my 'from "The Infinite Poem"' The "poem" takes off so to speak from a comment from a tutor I had when I did a BA degree in English and Philosophy in 1989 to 1994. There was nothing wrong with the tutor's criticism but it got me onto a "creative line" some years after I wrote the essay. I picked it up to study it (I do look at old essays and notes) and away I went. But its use here is a "crit." of my own tendency to divagate. Waffle might be a less kind word. <br />
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But my intention with this Blog is for a more direct approach. I want to comment on various matters, do reviews, essays,books I am reading, things I have done day by day etc and some personal recording etc Politics will probably not be high on the agenda but art, literature, and other things will be visited. Scott Hamilton (of Reading the Maps) and Jack Ross (The Imaginary Museum) are good models for me. But this can also be seen as another part of the general Work called EYELIGHT which has, running in the background so to speak, my The Infinite Poem.<br />
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But this can simultaneously be seen as autonomous, as will be my project "What we are Reading" which is more obviously a a part of EYELIGHT but can or will become a work on its own. In fact that could spawn more sub-Blogs! But those who know me know I move very slowly. I'm not concerned whether this medium of the Blog is out of date, or no one reads it, or more people are on Face Book etc I am doing this for the same reason I copy things from books as I read - because love doing it. (I use pen and sometimes add drawings etc [I intend for my "What we have been Reading" project to eventually sue the scan and the OCR facility but I don't do hat just yet, but for my own pleasure I may and probably will continue to copy by hand as well] into my note books, it is partly true I started as a part of a wider project but now it is self sufficiently something I just love doing!). I wont be doing much part from its value to me. (Therapeutic, "spiritual", fun? ! Who knows why we humans "soldier on" despite our inevitable and possibly total annihilation at death?* Or even if there is some kind of other thing beside this so-called material world. Big question...we eat because we are hungry and so on. We do because we want to do and gain pleasure from it. People say there is a "spiritual need": I think that is it but the word "spiritual has to be qualified, for like "communism" or "happiness" or "progress" or "work" it has many connotations - but it will do for now. We maybe shouldn't shy away from just taking pleasure in what we do. And in a sense we don't have to do anything! The social contract is an invention. Since humans became non-nomadic and developed civilization there has always been enough for everyone so it isn't necessary for everyone to "work". Work needs to be defined but to quote Milton (from memory!) from one of my favourite poems "On His Blindness (Milton went blind and had to dictate Paradise lost to his (poor!) daughters...which is not to say that that is not a great work either...<br />
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"They also serve who only stand and wait." <br />
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I have started with a selection of images more or less relevant showing some of my family and myself and places I go to and some of my art etc (my EYELIGHT project involves art and art techniques mixed with photography (and obviously manipulation and enhancement) etc and as I learn those techniques I create art (often "bad" ) but this is in line with my view and belief in the 'visibility of process'. I don't value one area of art or literature or poetry over another and the separation of art from life is quite problematic for me - I am not sure. Let's put hierarchies to one side and think about happiness. Happiness, in any case is good goal. <br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i><b>Sebastian and his Grandpa in my street on walk with me and Vic</b></i>.</td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td></tr>
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My grandson is about 10 now and as both my daughters are, at the time of writing, expecting, will soon have a brother or sister and a cousin. I want to write as if I don't know the genders involved. When my children were born we didn't know whether girl or boy until they emerged...<br />
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UPDATE - my youngest daughter gave birth to her second son on Oct 10th. He is called Finnegan.<br />
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I have seen him and he looks like a pixie! Of course he is the most wonderful person in the world. But we are all that. Extraordinary this coming into life from what seems to be nothingness. One ismoved to cliches only for now.<br />
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REUNION - There are two of my schools - one was at Tamaki College where I attended from 1962 - 1965. Then I tried to do Science (in those days, 1966, I took Chemistry, Botany and Zoology (but the last 2 are now called simply biological science - the once perceived wide difference between plant life and animal life is now seen to be problematic especially at the cellular level.)) I "failed" and eventually got work as a Lab Tech of Bitumix, a subsidiary of Winstones.<br />
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I went to the reunion [which was for the first 5 year from Tamaki's founding in 1957 to 1962] wanting really to either see or see images of or hear about some of my old teachers. The first year I had a Mr. Newman as our English teacher (he was English) and later a Mrs or Ms. (that term didn't exist then) Rae who was great. Via both teachers we covered various essays by Lamb, Hazlitt and Huxley (the famous one by Lamb about the discovery of roast meat, the walking one by Hazlitt and one about sounds - dripping taps by Huxley). We used a text by a Ridout. When we concurred on something in the text. Mrs Rae exhorted "You think so? You are all a bunch of prize Ridouts!" We laughed. We laughed also at when Newman, discussing names (we were studying Romeo and Juliet), asked if we though the man made then man or the other way - of course not we all agreed, and he commented on news reals of Hitler. .. a fearsome and "evil", but when you see him, if you didn't know his name, you would think he was just another English idiot." I, around that time, had a fascination with Hitler. he was one of those men of destiny I dreamed of becoming. In my boyhood and most of my teenage years, women simply didn't do anything: men forged foreward adn partook of great adventures, ro wrote great novels, ebcsom world chess champions, or flew aircraft etc But we also read Anne Frank's diary. I was deeply moved by this ad still am. Millions can disapear of die, but sopeakofoneperson;s existence closely and it becomes real...<br />
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But sports were not for me. Nor were "social" activities. In fact, unlike most of my contemporaries a Tamaki College, as I moved from 12 to nearly 20 I moved increasingly away from people. I wrote poetry or read books, studied Latin, English literature, Biology (I won first prize in that subject one year) and Chemistry. Gifford was my teacher. I saw him there in photographs. Chess and books and my own fantasy world were my escape from the terror of people. I couldn't talk to girls. It would be years before I had a girl friend. A complete nervous breakdown at age 19 was the trigger that enabled me to "come out of myself". Eventually I got involved in active politics and the anti Vietnam war protest movement, particularly the PYM (the Progressive Youth Movement who organized most of the political protest in the middle 60s to the middle 70s). Also involved were some (usually rather eccentric or dubious Trotskyites who were held in ridicule by most in those days); the Communist Party (Maoist, whose ideas I was most interested in in), and the Peaceniks and the many newly converted drug taking "hippies")<br />
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Where is all this leading - to Tamaki College and Panmure, GI and associated area in the 50s and the 60s). In those days, most of them before TV, computers or even calculators (we used base 10 log tables), and at a time when I discovered, at a friend's the magic of records on turntables, and when we had only 3 radio channels...in that time and place Panmure and GI was predominantly a white working class area. There were some Maori, and a few Polynesians, and others. I was in the top class (3AcA, 4AcA, and so on) and one of my friends at school, Graham Tatana, was Maori. I had "reunion meeting" at his house a few years ago. (It was pretty flash and made mine look like a hovel if anyone cares!) He went on to do accounting and later worked on the wharf then he made money from real estate. My other friends included Les Clarke (who seems to have disappeared, although in about 1969 or so he was a Lecturer in Economics at AU. Gordon Williams became a law lecturer. He had had some polio. Polio devastated many children and parents in those days, but it and many other diseases we all immunized against (which partly account for the relatively long life of most of those of that age group (eliminating self-inflicted mishaps and accidents etc).<br />
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At the reunion, which I enjoyed more than I thought I would, we were greeted by young Polynesian students (the demographic of Panmure etc has exploded, it is mostly Polynesian, but people of huge variety of ethnicity are here now (I think the deputy Principal who spoke to us was a black South African, but there are many either European or native's from there and Zimbabwe, and visible here quite a number of what I presume are Ethiopians or Sudanese, my local dentist is run by an Iraqi, Chinese are everywhere,as well as Arabic people and those from India an many other places...onelcal coffee shopis run by Hungarians, a Turk lives about 5 doors from where I am, Isadi god bye to Brazillian girl (woring at the local "kebab" place) who was returning... )<br />
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In that working class area, by and large, life was pretty good. Despite my own neurosis that developed from my deep introverted nature as child (until I was put on life changing medication); despite some "bad" things, by and large I had a very happy childhood. My parents by and large were very lenient and as my father was well paid professional architect, we had almost a super abundance of food and I got great presents, went on wonderful holidays, to the beaches, on Sundays by vehicular ferry to my English grand parent's place for Sunday high tea (all the scones jam tarts and tea and the sandwiches brought in on a moving trolley with two levels of silver trays "sitting" in it) and roast dinners (my grandmother Miller lit up like huge electric light when she saw me in particular (well that was my view of things!) ; and scones were fro us, and later lemonade was wonderful treat) and with the neighbour kids life was one long Golden Weather. In Panmure, in our street, we played endlessly. No one won anything. It was all an endless and an endlessly exciting game.<br />
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But there were 'dark' matters. <br />
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*I eventually want to discuss Montaigne, the inventor of the essay, and in particular his essay in which he writes how he thinks at all times about death. But cheers! More anon!<br />
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<span style="color: red;">THERE IS MORE T COME! FOR BETTER OR WORSE. I MAY CONTINUE IT IN MY NEXT POST. I'LL SEE HOW IT ALL FLOWS.</span><br />
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BIRDS! AND SKIES!<br />
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BIRDS AGAINST DRAMATIC AND BEAUTIFUL SKY SCENES<br />
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INDUSTRY & CREATIVITY<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i><b>A company near my place (Jellicoe Road) making things for gardens or other.</b></i></td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgenqBjWeU2wqBZvwLiOVTSoKjfJiMyh4dAw9Cfe0IUPpg4BuzlPxj6jcM75syFs8AwDGD6b4vJrvlmX5mYxo0p_9IM17b76SjE7cvSRxjzAQWFZvPV9ugxouzlj8b7GIw1t63yGNXHqoss/s1600/Personal+-+Art+-+Aug+2012+012.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgenqBjWeU2wqBZvwLiOVTSoKjfJiMyh4dAw9Cfe0IUPpg4BuzlPxj6jcM75syFs8AwDGD6b4vJrvlmX5mYxo0p_9IM17b76SjE7cvSRxjzAQWFZvPV9ugxouzlj8b7GIw1t63yGNXHqoss/s320/Personal+-+Art+-+Aug+2012+012.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A my mother's beautiful embordiery is on the cushion that is infront of my first attempt at a water colour for -hmm - since about 1957or so when my father helped me learn certain water colour techniques (some of my pictures I painted then are on EYELIGHT, and freeshias (loved by my mother and myself, whose scent is so excruciatingly beautiful), adn behind there si the cover of my small book of Picasso's works. Also the curves on the curtain design "flow" in a similar manner to that of the curtain. (Recently read the art critic Meyer's Shapiro's fascinating book-explication of Cezanne's art that reminds me of this.)</td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBUf-NbWN85psZSkNjY_qjEHUwg4XQ90W51FIh3tqU64cSaB3pZEiP7_sxMwTVy7kkC8Q5mK_2s-Tmz0yNePjdaimWRCPb92WezRajbhvz4ATtoZ2RkpoKkEo5zWVGq0uWqIrbt9thDlWM/s1600/Personal+-+Mt+Wellington+Sept+2010+005.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBUf-NbWN85psZSkNjY_qjEHUwg4XQ90W51FIh3tqU64cSaB3pZEiP7_sxMwTVy7kkC8Q5mK_2s-Tmz0yNePjdaimWRCPb92WezRajbhvz4ATtoZ2RkpoKkEo5zWVGq0uWqIrbt9thDlWM/s320/Personal+-+Mt+Wellington+Sept+2010+005.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Me near the Tamaki Yacht Club probably photographing Victor (my son). We walk most days and play over a chess game (perhaps by a great GM) or one of my defeats of victories. (As it happens I lose more games than I win! Chess (top class chess in any case) is for young men and women. But it is an addictive game...</td></tr>
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<br />Richardhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10272507198753290435noreply@blogger.com9