When the mysteries are taken for reality, we get things like this..

Avro Manhattan

Avro Manhattan was the world’s foremost authority on Roman Catholicism in politics. A resident of London, during WW II he operated a radio station called “Radio Freedom” broadcasting to occupied Europe. He was the author of over 20 books including the best-seller The Vatican in World Politics, twice Book-of-the-Month and going through 57 editions. He was a Great Briton who risked his life daily to expose some of the darkest secrets of the Papacy.

Available online, free to read for all, is his sensational account of the most horrifying religious massacre of the 20th century. Including pictures, names, dates and evidence. Startling revelations of forced conversions, mass murder of non-Catholics, Catholic extermination camps, disclosures of Catholic clergy as commanders of concentration camps; documented with names, dates, places, pictures and eyewitness testimony.

In the camp of Jasenovic and Stara Gradiska about 8000 children died. By caustic soda in their water..

His books were #1 on the Forbidden Index for the past 50 years. Indeed, by the fruits shall ye know the tree. Read the whole book here:

• http://www.reformation.org/holocaus.html

Also online for the world to read and see, the book that was #1 on the Vatican “forbidden books” list:

• The Vatican in the world of politics, by Avro Manhattan

Chiar mă deranjează atenţia care i se dă acestui profesoraş de istorie de la Tulcea, pe numele său Crin Antonescu. Măcar nea Traian avea o meserie – era Căpitan de vas, om încercat pe valurile oceanelor lumii… Ce este Crin? O paiaţă a celor care strigau ca nişte descreieraţi JOS ILIESCU în Bucureştii imunzi ai anilor ‘90… Iar propunerea Sasului Klaus Johannis mi se pare strigătoare la Cer şi jignitoare pentru mine ca Român în Ţara Românească. Dacă ajunge Sasul Prim Ministru, repudiez ideologic alianţa socio-liberală…

De unde şi până unde a ajuns Crinache Arbiter Elegantiarum în politikia dâmboviţeană?! Voi credeţi că poate Crinul să dicteze ce şi cum pot vota cei care i-au acordat încrederea în turul 1? Mai degrabă dreapta liberală va vota Traian Băsescu, care a înfierat cu mânie proletară comunismul pe vremea celebrului Tismeniţki…

Eu cred că Domnul Crin este victima răzbunării Grecului Tăriceanu… Călin nu l-a iertat niciodată pe acest impostor că i-a luat locul care i se cuvenea, prin Naştere, Tradiţie, Nobleţe, Educaţie şi Prestanţă – acela de Lider al Opoziţiei Autentice de Dreapta. Cred că l-a pus la înaintare în cadrul acestei alianţe stânga-dreapta PSD-PNL, pentru al compromite în ochii dreptacilor autentici şi a pregăti debarcarea lui în maxim 6 luni… Istoria va dovedi dacă am sau nu dreptate.

Nu întinează oare Crin idealurile Dreptei aliându-se cu urmaşii ideologici lui Ion Iliescu?

S-ar putea ca Românii să nu fie chiar atât de naivi cum ar dori Crin şi să respingă ideea străină a unui Prim Ministru sas şi să voteze pentru Traian Băsescu în mare număr în Turul Doi…

Un Prim Ministru minoritar! O greşeală de imagine pe care un Strateg Desăvârşit ca Ion Iliescu sau un Genial Bărbat de Stat ca Adrian Năstase nu şi-ar fi permis-o! Cred că Mircea Geoană se află în aceeaşi poziţie în PSD ca şi Crin în PNL – şi după ce vor pierde alegerile vom vedea cine conduce cu adevărat şi PSD-ul şi PNL-ul, pentru că aceştia doi sunt doar imagini ale Puterii, nu substanţa ei, neavând cum să fie, din punct de vedere ontologic, în primul rând.

O dedicaţie pentru Clasa Politică Românească –  Las Mañanitas, i. e. Mica Diminineaţă, The Little Morning… un fel de La Mulţi Ani mexiacan!

VIDEO (640×480; 52 mb; 1′59”; Xvid; ac3)

Mer av det gamla vanliga

Tyvärr var inte detta någonting revolutionerande, men å andra sidan, vad hade man förväntat sig eg? Saw VI fortsätter där femman slutade. Sexan har precis som de senare filmerna en hel hög med tillbakablickar i sig, och tyvärr är det mycket tack vare dem som man inser hurpass avtrubbad man blivit av att se de förra fem.

Saw VI är inte nyskapande på något vis, den följer precis samma stil som de andra. Man blir inte överraskad av något längre tyvärr, det känns som om de tappat all magi som fanns i de första 3. Framförallt jämfört med den första filmen som eg är den enda av de nu 6 filmerna som verkligen är något att ha. Men trots all negativitet som man nu kan tycka att jag lyckats förmedla i denna korta text är Saw filmerna fortfarande Saw, de äcklar en konstant i sjuka spel som får en att fundera på vem som eg sitter och kommer på alla groteska spel deltagarna tvingas genomföra.

Denna var dessutom inte alls lika magstark som förra filmen, kan vara jag som är lite avtrubbad som sagt, men ändå. Saw är ändå Saw och man känner igen sig snabbt. Det är ändå det som är filmernas styrka.

GP säger det ändå bäst, “För varje ny Saw-film slår det mig hur serien förvandlats från psykologiska moralthrillers till ett sadistiskt Fångarna på fortet”, och jag är ämnad att hålla med.

Saw VI: 5/10

MediaSverige: Aftonbladet 0/5, Expressen 1/5, GP 3/6, SvD

Filmen är godkänd men inte så mycket mer, knappt det om jag skall vara ärlig.

“If a man does not keep pace with his companions, perhaps it is because he hears a different drummer. Let him step to the music which he hears, however measured or far away.” ~Henry David Thoreau

For The Watchers …

+x+x+x+

It’s old news now, considering the film has been out on DVD for many, many months, but I just recently decided to watch – ‘The Watchmen.’ While it held a curious message, it also tried my patience – and so, I squirmed and fidgeted, due to exasperation, but mostly because the movie seemed to crawl at an unbearably slow pace in those last 30-45 minutes. I wanted to turn it off, go to sleep, deny and bury what was creeping under my skin and into my thoughts.

At the time, I wasn’t entirely certain as to why Rorschachs words – the ones below, in particular – became such an explosive trigger.

I do now.

But, this isn’t about that. This is about more than words. And it is all about words. Words that get to me. Got to me. Words that snaked their insipid way inside of me. Words that evoked in me – images, ripe with the need to express themselves in sketches that have the potential to send the less enlightened scurrying for cover.

Words which became triggers …

Words that prompted me to remember: things long-buried; disinterred.

And red.

Words: setting me off, of course, on a yo-yo-roller-coaster-tangent. It’s just that one memory leads to another, then another – and still another. I scarcely think I have the energy to keep up. And I feel drained. I want to go numb, or put the pain somewhere else.

I almost fear what will surface next.

Why now? is the question I ask, but I already know the answers.

It is all actually a bit disorienting; perplexing.

Crying, straight out-of-the-blue is not my idea of a good time.

Auto-react: Lack of control = scary. Not acceptable.

Intolerable, specifically.

And they have no sound: These silent outbursts that my fingers tell you of, hesitantly. My voice grows fixed and quiet in the real world. So, I write in journals, and maybe here … typing, typing, falling, crying, typing, sensing, raging, typing, telling, typing, revealing, typing of things long gone, and not – still, and so, here I am.

Please – it is enough.

It is a strange feeling to relive all the things you barely survived when they were happening to you.

A hot mess, I am, and I don’t like it. I am unsettled. I am frustrated … terribly frustrated, sometimes confused and ocassionally overwhelmed by it all. So many scattered pieces.

This ‘punishing isolation’ hasn’t helped. I thought I could do this alone, without anyone, without encouragement from outside my own head, without moral support from outside this dungeonous pit – I can’t. I talk to myself – and You. Look there, pain is spilled all over your monitor. Make it go away. You can.

When my throat closes, telling my fingers no – I bury myself in books, music and other people’s pain – so I can forget my own.

I believed that if I removed myself for awhile; isolated, removed triggers, guarded buttons and concentrated on the progress, however slight, instead of my dismal failures, that it would be sufficient to succeed, but it still wasn’t enough. Something was missing. A lot is missing.

Something is always missing.

I do everything in my power to distract myself, from confrontation with myself; with my feelings.

And then someone, or some-thing comes along and pushes a button, or pulls the trigger.

Anyhow, this is what set me off …

***

This piece is called – The Birth of Rorschach, as narrated by Alan Moore:

Stood in Firelight.
Sweltering bloodstain on chest, like map of
violent new continent.
Felt cleansed
felt dark planet turn under my feet
and knew what cats know that makes them
scream like babies in the night.
Looked at sky through smoke heavy with human fat,
and God was not there.
The cold, suffocating dark goes on forever
and we are alone.
This rudderless world is not shaped by vague
metaphysical forces.
It is not God who kills the children, not fate
that butchers them, or destiny that feeds
them to the dogs.
It’s us
Only us …

Thrown to the wolves. Mother; many wear the name of ‘monster.’ A shell of a being with no conscience, no remorse, no guilt – no heart.

And – It is everywhere.

This is our world – a very ‘real’ world.

The world so many would prefer, or pretend doesn’t exist, or turn a ‘blind eye’ to.

But, it -is- real. I’ve seen it. I’ve lived it.

And I hate this place. And love it.

I despise and embrace it. Will not be sad to see it go.

Am revulsed by these feelings, while searching my soul for the lessons.

But, when the deluge comes – I hope I’m under it.

+++

Then we have the Ivory Towers … condemning the damaged from their high-rises, in the sky.

They plug their ears and cover their eyes.

+++

Ignore it and it will go away, right … for who?

Not for the ones who are forced to live through it, or die because of it.

And, just so you know, and we don’t misunderstand one another: I am a pro-choice kinda girl, as I realize there are exceptions, and plausible reasons to terminate a pregnancy – it is sometimes a necessary act of mercy and logic. If not for the mother, for the child.

I never, ever wish to be in those shoes, ever again, facing that decision, under any circumstances.

I still couldn’t make the choice to terminate, even after a panel of Drs. recommended a ‘Therapeutic Abortion.’ It was selfish – so very selfish, on my part.

Damned whether I do, or don’t.

In the long run, my failure to make the logical and informed choice, caused both myself and my baby son, a lot of suffering and pain, but I would do it again. It pains me to think of his pain and what he endured for my inability to let him go; my selfishness. What I put him through because I wanted him so. Because I believed he would live. I knew in my heart he would. I believed in him. I fought for him. I had faith. I had to know. He deserved every opportunity.

And, he did live … for only a short time, but it was the only choice I could live with.

Did I really do it for him, or was it because I desperately needed someone to put my heart and soul into? Someone to put my love into – give him the opportunities I was robbed of? Start all over; fresh, with a new soul, created in my womb, to nurture and be a reflection of who I might have become, if only.

To be faced with, or forced to make that choice is one of the most haunting, conflicting, life-altering, guilt-inducing, heart-rending and traumatic decisions any woman ever has to make, as far as I’m concerned.

But, to utilize abortion as a means of birth control? Or send your child into the world to die at the hands of true evil?

THAT, people, has to be the most selfish kind of greed and cowardice – a mothers sacrifice to save herself.

Forgiveness is for … what it’s worth.

I reserve mine.

***

Then I got derailed with this …

FADE IN:

I watched my mother be viciously, mercilessly beaten by my step-father, when she was eight months pregnant with their first child. The fetus – a baby boy – was so bruised (as she would later explain), that he was the deepest shade of purple; blackened: Born Dead.

Everywhere; Like an abstract painting – random strokes created in splashes, streaks, splatters, splotches, and smears of my mother’s blood. My dead mother’s blood. She was robbed too.

Abstract Reality …

… Sacrifices.

And at what cost?

And yet, she stayed – controlled by fear.

The cost of anything is only what we are willing to pay.

That was her world; my world. Until I ‘RAN’ away from it. I run still, but I’m slowing.

They say that childhood is over the moment you realize you are going to die …

I too, was only 5.

Yes, I know evil. Its name was Daddy.

:FADE OUT.

***

There -most assuredly- is a storm brewing.

Donatien-Alphonse-François (abrégé D.A.F.) de Sade, plus connu dans ce temps-ci comme le marquis de Sade, est né le 2 juin, 1740 à Paris. Ses parents étaient Marie-Eléonore de Maillé de Carman et Comte Jean-Baptiste François Joseph de Sade. Il appartenait à une famille très importante du temps de Provence. Un de ses ancêtres était Laure de Noves, la femme qui a inspiré à Pétrarque, et il était apparenté par sa mère à la famille Bourbon. Son rapport avec ses parents était distant, son père le Comte étant toujours loin de la famille à cause des affaires et sa mère n’ayant pas simplement l’intérêt d’avoir une relation avec son fils. D’un âge très jeune, il paraît que de Sade était exposé aux choses qui ressembleraient le libertinisme radicale qui est surabondant dans ses œuvres. À l’âge de quatre ans, il a envoyé à Ebreuil au soin de son oncle, l’Abbé François de Sade, qui, selon Geoffrey Gorer, biographe de de Sade, « hardly bothered to disguise the fact that he had a mother and daughter as contemporary mistresses ».1 Il vivait ainsi jusqu’à 1750 quand, à l’âge de dix ans, il a commencé d’assister Louis-le-Grand, un lycée jésuite, à Paris. Au commencement de la guerre de Sept Ans en 1754, de Sade a joint la cavalerie, montant au rang de capitaine à l’âge de dix-neuf ans. Sa jeunesse n’était pas très extraordinaire ou diffèrent qu’un jeune homme né à la noblesse du XVIIIe siècle.
Cependant, ses mésaventures (lesquelles qui sont inscrites pour la postérité), et sa réputation de désordre, ont commencé quatre mois après son mariage à Claude-Renée Cordier de Launay, alias Renée-Pélagie de Montreuil,2 une femme avec qui de Sade avait une relation très distante. De Sade était un personnage très connu autour des maisons closes de Paris pour son patronage de prostituées, mais, après les plaintes de plusieurs d’eux envers sa conduite, il a incarcéré pour deux semaines en octobre 1763 pour « scandalous debauchery »3 et banni de Paris pour un an, une peine légère grâce à sa haute noblesse et les demandes de sa belle-mère, la Madame de Montreuil.4 En 1767, après la mort de son père, de Sade est devenu officiellement le Marquis de Sade.
Le matin de Pâques, 1768, l’affaire Keller s’est réalisée. Avant ce jour-là, la réputation du Marquis était quelque chose de discussion dans les salons, mais après, de Sade a transformé dans les yeux de société comme une sorte de diable blasphémateur cherchant les faibles pour les violer physiquement et spirituellement. Le vrai de cette situation peut-être perdu à l’histoire à cause d’une hystérie qui l’a suivie,5 mais il y a quelques choses qui sont certaines. Le matin de Pâques, de Sade s’est adressé à une veuve, qui s’est appelée Rose Keller, au sujet de quelques travaux ménagers avec l’intention de l’amener a sa maison d’Acreuil. En ce lieu, il l’est enfermée dans une chambre à coucher pour quelques heures et puis l’a fouettée, réalisant « small superficial circular skin abrasions ».6 Pour ça de Sade a incarcéré au château de Saumur et puis à Pierre-Scise pour six mois, encore grâce à la position de faveur de la Madame de Montreuil qui a voulu le rendre à la justice du roi et pas à la cour commune pour mieux supprimer le scandale. Après sa peine, de Sade a ressorti dans le soin de sa femme et ordonné de ne pas sortir de son château de La Coste. Les quatre années prochaines étaient vécues calmement. Pour la plupart, il suivait les souhaites de la cour et dépensait son temps à La Coste, réalisant les fêtes et suivant sa passion pour le théâtre amateur.
Puis en 1772, de Sade s’est impliqué dans l’affaire de Marseille. Là, il et son valet, Latour, cherchaient quatre prostituées. Après ayant actualisé une orgie avec eux et son valet, de Sade leur a offert aux filles des chocolats à la cantharide, un aphrodisiaque, mais aussi un irritant léger pour le ventre. Après elles se sont tombées malades, deux des filles se sont allées aux autorités disant qu’elles avaient été empoisonnées par de Sade. Le parlement de Provence a trouvé de Sade et Latour coupables pour l’empoisonnement et la sodomie et les a condamnés à mort. De Sade, Latour et la sœur de sa femme se sont enfuis à l’Italie. Cependant, même qu’ils se sont enfuis, l’exécution de Latour et de Sade s’est fait par effigie considérant leur absence. Encore, le public a exagéré les faits de l’affaire de Marseille, d’en parlant « as though it were a gigantic orgy, in the course of which Sade poisoned hundreds, including his own wife ».7
De cette escapade, de Sade était éventuellement rendu aux autorités et incarcéré au fort de Miolans à la fin de 1772. Madame de Sade lui a aidé d’échapper quatre moins prochains et c’est de ce moment-là que de Sade était libre, mais toujours caché, jusqu’à 1777. Son temps de liberté l’a rendu l’opportunité d’avoir les servants jeunes à La Coste desquels il abusait et un autre séjour à l’Italie où il a écrit Voyage d’Italie. En 1777, le père d’une servante est venu à La Coste pour sauver sa fille de la maltraitance du marquis, mais, quand il a essayé de fusiller de Sade, la pistole a fait long feu. Pendant ce temps, le cherche pour de Sade par les forces du roi continuait. C’était à la fin de 1777, quand de Sade s’est amené à voir sa mère mourant par la ruse de Madame de Montreuil qui, inconnu à lui, été déjà morte, que les forces royales l’a ramené enfin à château de Vincennes. Après un autre échappe et reprise, de Sade été envoyé à la Bastille en 1784 quand Vincennes été fermé. C’était ici à la Bastille où de Sade a pris son rôle dans la Révolution française quand, le 2 juillet 1789, il a crié de sa fenêtre qu’ils étaient tué les prisonniers dedans la Bastille et il fallait que les peuples allassent à leur secours. Pour ça il s’est emmené à l’asile de Charenton.
Après l’institution du gouvernement révolutionnaire, de Sade s’est libéré. Juste après sa libération, Madame de Sade l’a divorcé et il a rencontré à Marie-Constance Quesnet, qui restait avec lui la reste de sa vie. Pendant ce temps, il faisait partie de la Convention, écrivant les pamphlets, mais il s’est emprisonné encore en 1793 pendant la Terreur pour presque un an pour étant modéré. Après la Terreur, il s’est libéré encore pour le reste des temps du gouvernement révolutionnaire. C’était pendant la liberté d’expression partiale de la Révolution que la plupart de ses œuvres s’étaient publié quoique anonymat. Cependant, quand Bonaparte a mis contrôle, son dégoût de Justine et Juliette l’a mis dans prison encore une fois. De Sade vivait les restes de ses jours de 1801 jusqu’à sa mort en 1814 un prisonnier.
Pendant son emprisonnement de trente-deux ans de sa vie dans asiles et châteaux variés, de Sade écrivait profondément. Aux lecteurs modernes, cependant, il y a qu’une petite partie de ses œuvres qui survivent jusqu’aujourd’hui, la plupart desquelles incomplètes et compilées après sa mort. Il a écrit romans, pièces de théâtre, poésie, essais, pamphlets, contes philosophiques, et contes de fabliaux.8 Effectivement, c’est difficile à mentionner un genre duquel de Sade n’essayait pas à écrire aux degrés variés de réussi et considération. David Coward mentionne que de Sade « began to make his name as a playwright … he also plied his pen to pass the weary prison days … [et] after 1791, he wrote at least in part for money ».9 Presque ignoré dans sa vie comme écrivain de valoir, la littérature de Sade est toujours une chose de scandale même qu’il est considéré aujourd’hui comme un figure important dans l’histoire littéraire française, occupant la même stature de ses contemporaines Lumières comme Voltaire et Rousseau.10
Peut-être la raison pour le cloître de Sade est parce qu’il engendre une philosophie qui soutient la violence et dominance comme choses neutres dans un monde où Nature conduit tout. De Sade n’est pas très diffèrent aux autres matérialistes de la Lumière qui ont dit que « all life is molecular ».11 Divergeant de ses contemporaines matérialistes, cependant, de Sade utilise ce raisonnement pour justifier le détruit de toutes morales, les voyant comme une construction sociale fait de la nécessité d’arrêter la progression naturelle de l’avancement des forts sur les faibles. Ces idées « allowed Sade to defend sodomy, cannibalism, necrophilia, torture and every form of cruelty ».11 12 Sa philosophie est bien exemplifiée dans ces romans, essentiellement les histoires de Justine et Juliette où les protagonistes sont plusieurs fois violées, battues, fouettées et torturées d’autres manières pornographiques et toujours imaginatives. F. Gonzalez-Crussi argue que, dans ces histoires, l’intrigue ne vaut rien, mais qu’ils sont la « bold contention that all our noble impulses are a hoax, and cruelty the only abiding reality of the human condition ».13 Surtout, dans sa philosophie, de Sade fait l’argument encore et toujours que « the fundamental relationship between human being is not one subordinate to a higher, supra-individual value, but purely and simply this one : violence and cruelty ».13
Sa philosophie avilie pour la plupart aujourd’hui, de Sade continue d’être plus d’une force après sa mort que pendant sa vie. Les surréalistes dans les ans 1920 « took to him as an iconoclast » de leur art, Apollonaire disant de lui qu’il est « l’esprit le plus libre ». Avant ça, dans les ans 1840, il devinait « a uniquely chronicled case-history » des psycho-pathologistes et occupe « as much a place in the annals of psychopathology as in the history of litterature ». C’est grâce à ceux hommes-ci que nous avons le terme sadisme pour décrire la recherche de plaisir dans la souffrance des autres. En 1957, Jean-Jacques Pauvert a été trouvé coupable et pénalisé pour la publication d’une œuvre de Sade, et même en 1991, Moyra Bremmer a essayé à tirer la maison d’édition Arrow à la cour pour la publication d’une traduction de Juliette.14 Il y a même un groupe rock de France qui s’appelle « Marquis de Sade ». Tous une preuve que la vie, la philosophie et les œuvres du marquis de Sade sont toujours parties de la culture et cercles académiques d’aujourd’hui.

Des notes et citations :
1. Gorer, Geoffrey. The Life and Ideas of the Marquis de Sade. 1962. Norton. p.22.
2. Gorer, Geoffrey. The Life and Ideas of the Marquis de Sade. 1962.Norton. p.24. Gorer fait allusion à la femme du marquis de Sade comme « Claude-Renée Cordier de Launay », tandis que Love, Brenda. The Encyclopedia of Unusual Sex Practices. 2002. UK: Abacus. pp. p145. rend son nom « Renée-Pélagie de Montreuil ».
3. Gorer, Geoffrey. The Life and Ideas of the Marquis de Sade. 1962. Norton. p.24.
4. Mme. de Montreuil est une figure importante dans la vie du marquis de Sade, plusieurs fois conduisant ses emprisonnements et délivrances. Pour un aperçu plus clair de son rôle dans la vie du marquis de Sade, lire la première section de The Life and Ideas of the Marquis de Sade de Geoffrey Gorer.
5. On peut lire une lettre de Mme. du Deffand à Horace Walpole, daté le 12 avril 1768, comme exemple de ça à http://fr.wikipedia.org/wiki/Marquis_de_sade#cite_note-9
6. Gorer, Geoffrey. The Life and Ideas of the Marquis de Sade. 1962. Norton. p.29. Cette citation est la traduction des notes du médecin qui a examiné Rose Keller pour vérifier l’ampleur de ses blessures fait par le marquis de Sade.
7. Coward, David. “Down with Sade?” Paragraph. 23.1 (March 2000). p.9.
8. Pour une bibliographie complète des œuvres du marquis de Sade, voir http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Bibliography_of_the_Marquis_de_Sade
9. Coward, David. “Down with Sade?” Paragraph. 23.1 (March 2000). p.6.
10. Coward, David. “Down with Sade?” Paragraph. 23.1 (March 2000). p.10. Il fait allusion ici à la Bibliothèque de la Pléiade qui est une des collections majeures de l’édition française, publiée par Gallimard. Elle constitue une référence en matière de prestige, de qualité rédactionnelle, et de reconnaissance littéraire des auteurs. Être publié dans l’édition de la Pléiade représente une sorte d’intemporalité pour leurs auteurs.
11. Coward, David. “Down with Sade?” Paragraph. 23.1 (March 2000). p.7.
12. O’Neil, John C. “Sade’s Justine: A Response to the Englightenment’s Poetics of Confusion” Eighteenth-Century Fiction. 21.3 (Spring 2009). fait aussi des juxtapositions entre de Sade et les autres philosophes Lumières et puis décrit la philosophie du marquis de Sade dans une contexte des idées du temps.
13. F. Gonzalez-Crussi. “The Dangerous Marquis de Sade.” New York Times Book Review (1988): 1. Academic Search Complete. EBSCO. Web. 15 Nov. 2009.
14. Coward, David. “Down with Sade?” Paragraph. 23.1 (March 2000). pp.10-12.

By: Le Fetiche Produções

]]> http://orriehitt.wordpress.com/2009/11/14/run-for-coverrace-with-lust-by-roger-normandie-key-publications-1956-7/ Sat, 14 Nov 2009 07:31:25 +0000 orriehittfan http://orriehitt.wordpress.com/2009/11/14/run-for-coverrace-with-lust-by-roger-normandie-key-publications-1956-7/

1957 was a busy year for Orrie Hitt (as were 1958-1962).  Not only did he publish nearly a dozen titles with Beacon, he released five hardcover novels that year with the short-lived and mysterious Key Publications, that put out a number of “risque” novels in cloth priced at $2-2.50 (ah the days when a hardcover cost that much!!!) — hell, that was like $20-25 today, what a typical hardcover will set you back nowadays.

But the five books Hitt did with Key were all under two pseudonyms names: three as Roger Normandie (Run for Cover, The Lion’s Den, The Web of Evil)  and two as Charles Verne (Mr. Hot Rod and The Wheel of Passion).  Why did he use these nom de plumes and not his own, when he didn’t have a problem putting his real name on “sleaze” and “sex” books ? (Although many a folk thought “Orrie Hitt” was a pen name, because it sounds like one. Who the hell is named Orrie?)

Previously, I speculated that perhaps he was under an exclusive contract with Beacon, which is not unusual to keep prolific writers from publishing competing books with other companies; from 1954-1959, ol’ Orrie published almost exclusively with Beacon Books, aside from these five hardbacks; and there was another 1957 title in cloth, Devil in the Flesh, with Valentine Books. From 1959 on, he published numerous books with Midwood, Kozy, Novel Books, Lancer/Domino, Chariot, and New Chariot Library, with one shots from Saber, Ember, and Gaslight.

Having now read one of the Key Normandies, Run for Cover, I am wondering if the assumed name was for protection.  This racy novel — reprinted in paperback by Kozy as Race with Lust — is far more explicit sexually than any of his other books.  S/M, rape, torture, blackmail and promiscuity are dealt with in greater detail than the usual Hitt novel, pretty bold in 1957 when in the early 1960s book much more tame were in court on obscenity charges.

A hardcover gave a book more validity as literature than a cheap paperback, although Lady Chatterly’s Lover, Lolita and Tropic of Cancer were in the courts at the time, Ulysses before that.

Maybe Hitt was under an exclusive deal with his real name, but it’s possible Key approached him and said, “We’ll let you push the legal envelope and piss off the censors and government, but for your own protection, use a pseudonym, otherwise you might get arrested.”

Perhaps why there is no address listed for Key Publications.  Since Kozy reprinted most of these, I wonder if there was a connection in ownership.  Hitt’s Kozys were also a tad more explicit than his Beacons.

I started with this one because it appears to be the first of the five Key novels published — the title page states “1956″ but the copyright page has “1957.”

Madelyne is young, blonde, “stacked,” from New Orleans, taking the train to Los Angeles to meet her husband, Bob Glynn; she has not seen in over two years — he was in Korea.  He’s just been released from the army but doesn’t know it was a dishonroable discharge from AWOL and insubordination — she finds that out later.

She’s excited — and she doesn’t even really know him; it was a quick whirlwind romance before he shipped off, and they married at the last minute, much to the chagrin of her southern family.

Bob has changed drastically, though, claiming war experiences — he’s a drunk who wakes up with the DTs each morning, so needs a shot to start the day.  He’s also developed a sadistic side, something he picked up from R&R in Japan: he’s into S/M.  He handcuffs Madelyne to the bed, ties her legs, and uses a cat-o-nine tails on her, fifty lashes to subdue her, leading her back and legs a bloody mess.  The scene goes on for pages, explicit in a way unlike Orrie Hitt’s other books.

For some reason, she stays with him. They get an apartment. Their money runs out, all he does is drink, so she gets a job at a car hop, where she wears a skimpy outfit.  The cover of the Kozy edition depicts a scene where two jackasses tear her uiform off and she stands naked in the car hop lot, lights on her, and then she quickly “runs for cover.”  Her boss, acting concerned for what happened, drugs and rapes her, and then wants her to be his mistress.

She refuses.

Like many Hitt women up against the wall, she starts to do modeling for nude photos to make fast cash.  She needs money to get a room and get away from her lousy husband,  who seems to have fallen in with a criminal element in Los Angeles, loosely connected to the war and some unsavory types he knows from Japan, like the evil Mr. Kim, a true Hollywood-esque stereotype of the Asian gangster.

On one modeling job, she meets a rich sculptor and later moves into an apartment he owns, rooming with another mistresses of his.  In a bar, Bob walks in and her new boyfriend and Bob get in a fight; Bob, beaten, vows revenge on his tramp wife.

End of Part One, and then comes the strange Part Two that takes a 180 degree turn in style and storyline.  This section of the book feels written by someone else and I think that’s the case — why another writer was brought in who knows, maybe to spice it up.

Bob, somehow going from poor drunk to manager of a mysterious syndicate of kinky rich Hollywood people, blackmails Madelyne into “performing” at a party in the San Fernando Valley.  It’s a big orgy really, guarded by half naked men dressed as Greek slaves.  She is to put on a “show” as an Arabian slave up for auction.  We know that her husband is about to set her up into sexual slavery, that this is no show but an actual slave auction.

Say what?  It gets weirder — attending the party is a remnant Nazi from World War II, who talks about “the New Fueher,” and a rich Japanese business men; they seem to be a conglomerate of spies working to re-start the German and Japanese war machine and infiltrate America via Hollywood.

But the law is on to them and the five leaders of this outfit must escape by submarine off the Santa Monica coast; Madelyne is forced to go with them, to be their sex slave…she is tortured into submission (cigarettes burned into her breasts and vagina) by the evil Mr. Kim…and then used by the five men, passed back and forth…

This is Orrie Hittt?  No, this is Roger Normandie, a combo of Orrie and someone else — Jack Woodford maybe?  Hitt did a collaborative book with Woodford in 1954, Lease, later published as Trapped!, which seems to have a similar themes of a camera club model getting into a strange situation.

The strange second half completely ruins what was a prety good novel.  What’s also different for Hitt was the Los Angeles setting, instead of a small upper NY state town or Manhattan, just as the next book on this blog, Man-Hungry Woman, is set in Hollywood (seems The Web of Evil is also in California).

At first I couldn’t put this book down and was impressed, until the crazy second part…who knows what this publisher was thinking.  That tossing in spies, intrigue and sexual torture would make the book more commercial?

Odd.

Love thy naboer in action

On the 13′th of October 1307, king Phillip of France in bed with the Catholic Church burns Jaque de Molay on the steak charged with blasphemy. De Molay was the leader of the famous Knights Templar, whom (by pure coincidence) Phillip owed a huge sum of money.

According to legend the leader of the knights templar uttered the words “This day shall forever be cursed” before the flames engulfed him.

This day is reserved in his memory, and to the memory of all those who lost their lives on behalf of lying priests and their insane doctrines.

“I find giants. I hunt giants. I kill giants.”

nde: I have a test today.

prettyprophet: Guess we’re being pretty SADISTIC having you waste your time doing this post.

funny_bunny: I have a test too!

prettyprophet: Eh, masochist.

funny_bunny: MANLY MASOCHIST PRINCIPAL.

prettyprophet: Shame you guys won’t see him no more.

funny_bunny: BUT WHY EVER CAN THAT BE?

prettyprophet: “Sadomi” by pageratta is…

nde: Done.

prettyprophet: Hey, maybe he’ll do a sequel one day.

funny_bunny: But probably not! GOOD NIGHT EVERBODY!

prettyprophet: We’ll do a repack at some point.

nde: I think we need to study now.

funny_bunny: Nonsense! Oh let’s get sushi again.

prettyprophet: Fuck off, I’m going back to sleep.

funny_bunny: FIRST COMPLETED RABBIT SERIES EVER! RABBITS BLESS YOU SADOMI!

nde: And all the dead.

Additional links:

On ANIMEKRITIK ANNIVERSARY
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We’re getting into deep shit here.  It’s become a bit more personal in the first few days. Call me shallow, but i didn’t expect any of this half way through our little experiment. Candy, you’re a quick thinker aha.  Well, last post Candy told me that I am to ask her a question every day for the rest of the month- anything at all, and she would openly answer it as honestly as possible.  However, I better be listening and paying attention, because she wants me to take a test on each of her answers at the end of the month. we’ll see if THAT actually happens. heh.  anyways, today she told me that every question i give her, i must respond to the same question on this blog. So, as much as i’m finding out about her, she gets to (and you!) know a little more about myself!

Todays question was:

What is the ONE fetish you have that really turns you on. What is the one thing that really gets you HAWT!

MY ANSWER: We often associate dominant women with whips, chains and a pitiful man groveling at their feet while licking a pair of vinyl boots. This certainly occurs with some regularity, but I wasn’t the first to realize dominance doesn’t always translate into sadism. And sadism, for me, does not necessarily make me horny, yet I’ll admit, i do get shivers at the idea of 5 inch heels being pressed against my chest. Nonetheless, I’m hot for a girl who is dominant but not controlling- and tis’ a very fine line! I appreciate a girl who steps outside of boundries…when i can give her the authority to take control and something happens, triggering thoughts and ideas she wouldn’t dare during “normal” lovemaking. That turns my crank!

Compliment:

Are you an interior decorator? Why? Whenever you go on cam for me the room- my room- becomes SO much more beautiful. heh. Balence is key…and when you look at me with confusion in your eyes, and shake your head in disbelief from the things i say and do, I still appreciate your kindess, your compassion, your radience and smile! you’re still here and I love it! Love you. like you. like you a lot! heh.

“And now, friend-reader, you must prepare your heart and your mind for the most impure tale that has ever been told since our world began, a book the likes of which are met with neither amongst the ancients nor amongst us moderns. Fancy, now, that all pleasure-taking either sanctioned by good manners or enjoyned by that fool you speak of incessantly, of whom you know nothing and whom you call Nature; fancy, I say, that all these modes of taking pleasure will be expressly excluded from this anthology, of that whenever peradventure you do indeed encounter them here, they will always be accompanied by some crime or colored by some infamy.”

prettyprophet: Let me make something very clear: should you, reader of this site, download this release, don’t you fucking dare complain about the content. I’d complain myself since I had to fucking stare at it……but I ain’t gonna. But YOU…..here’s your fair warning. Read “Bradherley’s Coach”? Yeah? Go ahead and download if you want. No? Stay the FUCK away.

Title: Brute Love aka Hitodenashi no Koi
Artist: Hiroaki Samura
ISBN: 9784870766549
Publisher: Izumi Comics
First Published: December 2006
Format: Softcover
Language: English
Original Language: Japanese
Translated: Yes
Pages: 105
NSFW: JAWOHL!
Buy here: Yesasia

Download:
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On BakaBT

++++++

prettyprophet: One: we know, they titled it “The Love of the Brute”. ak advised “Brute Love”, everyone agreed. That’s simpler and sounds better. Two: the scans are partially scanned by Funny and partially scanned by the anonymous (we assume it’s Gurochan); downloaded from Flying Teapot. This was because half of the old raws were crap so Funny redid them. Funny, do you have anything to say on this fantastic project from Samura?

funny_bunny: Yes. FOR THE REPUBLIC!

prettyprophet: Well, I have a lot to say…..but fuck it, I think I’ll keep mum on it for now.

funny_bunny: HONOR SAMURA’S REQUEST!

prettyprophet: Right, Samura personally PLEADS you not to flaunt this artbook around. So why the fuck did we release it? Hey, we’re not flaunting “Brute Love” around. If you’re reading it, you WANT it. So that’s why I’m issuing warnings all over the place; I even used the ‘fucked up repugnant shit’ tag. Actually, I think this is the only time it’s been used.

funny_bunny: But it was surely inspired by a lovely post from the Rabbit Republic.

prettyprophet: Whatever, point is, Samura’s not stupid and neither are we. This isn’t some happy flowers and sunshine artbook; this ain’t even “Sweet Body”. A good number of people will NOT like this book. Christ, I don’t like this book.

funny_bunny: I do not NOT like this book. But that’s ok! RABBITS KEEP ROLLING.

prettyprophet: So don’t be an immature little prick wallowing around in this mess because you think that makes you hardcore. Samura’s telling you outright that this is not something ‘normal’. He recognizes it, you better fucking recognize it too. Goddammit, I’m getting angry; Lavie get the hell over here.

Lavie Rhap: Funny, do you think this project lives up to our Rabbit name?

funny_bunny: Yes. Yes I do. And then some!

Lavie Rhap: “Brute Love”, an erotic grotesque artbook endorsed…and not endorsed by the Rabbits.

prettyprophet: ak, you’re a good man for handling this.

funny_bunny: Blessings upon thee! Stay pure!

Lavie Rhap: I don’t believe we will touch upon the history of this release, will we?

prettyprophet: Nah, do it later.

Lavie Rhap: A retrospective will be written shortly…although that may possibly cover much more.

prettyprophet: Chea, it will.

Lavie Rhap: Happy anniversary to the Republican Era.

prettyprophet: Eat cake, kids.

funny_bunny: Good cake!

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(Disclaimer: I am no Freudian. Freud contributed greatly to complicating understandings of subjectivity and psychic structures.  Many subsequent thinkers have revisited and revised his theories, as well as rejected and modified many of these Freudian ideas.  I mention Freud here not to cite his ideas as psychological fact, but rather to highlight an important moment in intellectual history and theories of sexuality.)

Freud argued childhood psychosexual development followed three consecutive stages.  The first stage, the oral phase, characterizes the earliest phase of life, in which an infant’s pleasure consists in oral stimulation and especially in the act of breastfeeding.

The second stage in Freud’s schema is the anal phase, in which the child achieves bowel control and becomes fascinated with the erogenous zone of the anus.  The conflict among the interior psychic structures of id, ego, and superego as well as the conflict between child and parents around the act of toilet training.  This act of control of this fundamental bodily function served as the model for Freud’s understanding of sadism.  Freud understood sadism as a form of the anal retentive character, and indeed refers to such sadistic cravings as “anal sadism.”  Sadism, as a desire for, and the derivation of sexual pleasure from, control over bodies—one’s own body as well as the bodies of others—is an extension of the pleasure that the anal retentive character derives from withholding feces in the body and exercising control over defecation.  According to Freud, such an anal retentive personality is stubborn and a perfectionist and compulsively seeks order.

Therefore, one could argue that scat play entails a classic textbook act of sadism, in which the top controls her own bowels as well as, and as a means of, aggressively exercising control over another body and subject.