The Accusation Agenda … Removing Kind Men from the World

“Give me six lines written by
the most honourable of men,
and I will find excuse enough in them,

to hang him.”

Vicious People do not care Who ELSE they hurt:
as long as they get their vengeance.

Modern Mob Mentality

It used to be that,
if you had a grievance with someone,

you went to them personally,
and attempted to reason with them.

If they were an aggressive personality,
you took an acquaintance to act as ‘witness’.

You did Not make your personal grievance
a Public Vendetta where you sought to humiliate
someone in front of as much of the entire world
as possible.

You also had the maturity to recognise
your own poor judgment:

If I … Willingly … walk into a Den of Thieves,

and choose to be plied with their food and drink,

I do not present myself as the blameless victim
when I discover later, that my pocket watch
has been stolen.

I certainly Do Not align myself with a crusade
which intimates that ANY Man
who might pay me a compliment

… is doing so because he is a thief,
looking for an opportunity to rob me.

“Let’s end Fear … by Generating Fear.”

Using Evil as an Excuse

to Commit Evil

… is Evil.

The Sadist who is determined
to beat an animal,
will ALWAYS find a stick.

Even without owning a television, we were aware that,
in 1990, the American President had used television
to proclaim the arrival of the “New World Order”.

It would be a “New World” which would encourage Vanity,
ridicule those who questioned, enforce subjection to authority,
broadcast fear of everything … and ensure that Self
was the only god that is worshipped.

It is a New World in which barely literate multitudes
cannot distinguish between “there” and “their”,
or “your” and “you’re” –

YET can spew filthy profanities
while being “offended” if anyone attempts to
help them by correcting their error.

Lacking the humility to learn,
or the decency to say ‘Thank You’ –

bereft of any sense of responsibility
or the mental self discipline
to even check basic spelling,

such individuals arrogantly imagine that their
undisciplined opinion should be regarded as ‘wisdom’
by others.

It was the Age of the “Instant Expert” in which
ignorant youths imagine themselves qualified
to teach others.

In this New world, ‘Boys’ and ‘Girls’, and ‘Men’ and ‘Women’,
were quickly reduced to animal status
when those exclusively human nouns were discarded,
and replaced with the adjectives … “male” and female”.

Twenty five years later, even basic biology
has been so successfully obliterated
that a child will soon not be certain whether he or she
is looking at a boy or girl –

or even if he or she … is … a boy or a girl.

But even this mass chaos and confusion is not enough
for this New humanity — NOW,
ANY conscientious man with a kind disposition,

is presumed to be a Perverted Predator.


Increasing legions of smirking, ‘macho’ savages
will never be deterred from their abuse, contempt,
and degradation … of Women.

BUT genuinely kind men
who would – in the past, freely hand out an heartfelt
compliment to a woman about

her appearance, or
new hairstyle, or
happy demeanour,

will now be afraid to so much as Encourage or extend
a KIND comment to Any Woman,

for fear of “offending” a vitriolic narcissist,

and being labelled as some form of ‘predator’.

It is a situation that is evidently wanted
by women who indiscriminately bludgeon kind
and complimentary men with the weapon
now evidently known as

… “me too”.

Intelligent human society has long BEEN eradicated.

Congenial human society is Now BEING eradicated.

Infested with vanity and self-worship,
society is now so fragmented
that any cohesiveness is nigh-on impossible.

Those who hate men;

and those who are too lazy to make any personal
effort that might merit a compliment,

are going to make sure that NO ONE

will receive a personal Compliment …
or dare to offer one.

Their downright sullenness
is going to be standard practice in the workplace
… in public … Everywhere.

These vitriolic instigators are hate-mongers:
figurative mass-murderers who are determined
to destroy the character of men in general.




And in a world where mature Discernment
and Moderation … have not existed
for over thirty years – anyone
who does not jump to the extremes of
instantly agreeing with this Degradation of
All Men,

is decreed to be supporting rapists.

NO WOMAN – Anywhere – exceeds me in
believing that men, generally, are loud, obnoxious,
slovenly, arrogant narcissists who want to
dominate every one they meet.

IF that is how you view the bulk of men –
I do as well.
I may well be more ‘feminine’ than you are.

BUT what is going on today reeks of Hatred:

Vengeance – for a Few, and Mob Mentality
viciousness for a Multitude of malicious

Any Reader of my work will Know that I am
completely in favour of any Rationale
that will remove the stupid, pathetic, swaggering,
testosterone-posturing viciousness that typifies
‘macho’ bullies, punks, and thugs the world over.

Every … Genuine … victim of malice Should
seek redress from the physical assaults of violent,
evil men.

But there is no need to take part in a Mass Movement
that is populated in large measure by those whose
perverse Conceit decrees

any attempt at a handshake …
a sympathetic touch on the shoulder …
a welcoming or congratulatory hug …

as attempted … “physical intimacy”.

A woman violated by some savage brute,
SHOULD pursue the matter, at the time, privately.

But this method of ‘bandwagon-jumping’
multitudes crying “Me too” … while recounting
an occasion from twenty, thirty, and forty years ago,
across the unrestricted world of television
and the Internet –
is serving quite another purpose.

It is creating a public mind-set where any Good Man
attempting to express Camaraderie,
Compassion, or Congratulations …

is a malicious pervert.

In this situation, Kind Men
are NOT the ones
who are displaying Predatory Malevolence.

The effect of this tribal bloodlust
will not be merely to dominate men,
BUT to make kind men … cower

… before women.

This about power: subjugating those who –
traditionally – were seen to ‘hold’ power.

A rash of 1980’s and 90’s American “TV Talk Shows”
placed every manner of low-grade humanity on a stage;
and garnered “ratings” by having viewers
vent bestial outrage on some slovenly thug
who abused his wife.

The modern mentality of instantly believing Anything
that degrades another person, is appealing
to the Conceit of the Vicious and Self-centred –

Because it makes them “feel superior’.

Scatter enough of these vitriolic individuals
throughout a population,

and you add to the calculated fear culture

that now guarantees hypochondria
in disgracefully increasing numbers
of neurotic narcissists.

A pregnant yuppie mummy cannot shake hands
in case her baby catches an “infection”.

This New World is now characterised by
ignorant Opinion, appalling A-literacy, Immorality
Error, Vulgarity, and Bullying,

which successfully keeps those who are ABLE
to think, consider, and question,
derided, intimidated, and submissive.

“Let’s end violence by being Violent.”

“I can destroy the reputation – the life –
of any man who has so much as
tapped me on the shoulder,

offered to carry a heavy suitcase, or
asked if I would like to join him
for a Mocha at a cafe.”

Power. Bullying. Domination.

In the workplace, we talk about work –

Just work.
Only work.

Sociable compliments – basic human decency –
are now outlawed by miserable creatures
who want to force their resentment
and contempt

upon everyone around them.

Men now (evidently) come in two sorts:

1. vulgar, profanity-spewing, aggressive,
beer-swilling, tattoo-covered mimics
of depraved Hollywood ‘he-men’ ;


2. “successful” men in positions of power,
celebrity, or just being my equal at work …

… who are rapists and paedophiles

because they dared
to extend a compliment to me.

Having embraced the bodily mutilation
of tattoos and piercings
to regard clean-cut’, conscientious,
sober-minded professionals with contempt;

and thrown away maturity, responsibility,
conscience, and the ability to think,

re-engineered humanity now not only
spends every possible waking moment
connected TO a machine:

they have BECOME callous, ruthless,
self-serving machines.

Kind, Considerate, Articulate, and
Complimentary people are a rarity
that is being expunged from this world.

Vicious people make a vicious world
when those with a moral conscience
just sit there

and let it happen.


How Much Lower … ? Persuading Populations to Become Drug Users

Multitudes whose Irresponsibility, Immorality,
or lack of Personal Integrity
was previously held at bay

by the law of the land –

Now have no reason
to exercise Integrity at all.

When men and women defend and
delight in what should cause them shame,
it is a certain sign that they have obliterated
every trace of a moral conscience.

J.R.R. Tolkien

Since 2008, the CALMING Effect of tobacco
has been vilified through the use of personal-opinion,
guess-work questionnaires being passed off
as “scientific research”.

Having successfully used Hollywood to get people
‘hooked’ on tobacco, the same method of
programming human minds,
now has its audiences despising tobacco
as a threat to human life.

It even gave hypochondriac masses
a NEW, replacement habit:

sucked through a slit in the plastic lid
of a paper cup.

And everyone was ‘doing it’.

Coffee. The New ‘tobacco’.

In TV-Land, “Friends” met at a Coffee House;
‘sit-coms’, hospital dramas – all the TV heroes
were shown clutching the cardboard cup
with the plastic lid.

Group Dynamics: Present the behaviour
of the majority … and every individual with
a television set, and a mind ruled by vanity
(the desire to be popular or ‘liked’) – WILL

often to the extent of mocking those who have
the moral capacity for Independent Thought.

The mind that considers the exhaust pipes
of a dozen cars jetting sulphur dioxide, benzene,
and carbon monoxide, parked six feet away
from the tables of popular coffee house franchises,

to be a “Smoke Free Environment”,
will never apply itself to actually Think …

For how many Years would some old Countryman
have to smoke his little briar pipe, before he would
put the same amount of smoke and toxins into the air
as your family automobile puts out
… in just five Minutes ?

Automobiles are successfully used by people
to commit Suicide:

And you and I both know that you
do not think twice about walking your children
past dozens of idling car exhausts
in the parking lot of the Shopping Mall.

You and your children inhale more poison
from your family barbeque
than that old man could ever produce
from a briar pipe.

ALCOHOL – the product responsible for

heightening aggression,
diminishing moral conscience;
removing ethical inhibitions;

the stupefied depravity that goes on
at house “parties”,

street violence, vandalism, and intimidation
on a Saturday night in so-called “civilised”

THE fixture in wife abuse, child abuse,
animal abuse, neglect of care and attention,
drunken rages, and drunken driving,

But No one calls for the banning of alcohol.

People pour liquor down their own throat,
stupefy their minds and their mouths;
make public fools of themselves
and experience – not infrequently, I am told,

the following morning, nausea, vomiting,
sensitivity to light, and dizziness, amongst other
symptoms – having utterly wasted their money
to get into that condition …

Only to do it all again the following weekend.

And if ruining their lives and reputations
as a result of alcohol use, have the impertinence
to call their ‘alcoholism’ a … “disease”.

The Willing, Intentional, Self inflicted Abuse
of their own body … is now a “disease”.

ANY Excuse under the sun … EXCEPT
Personal Responsibility.

Legislate that the tobacconist must
cover his shop windows in order to
“Protect the Children” …

But keep the liquor flowing, and ‘casual
drinking’ displayed as a prominent feature
that accompanies the sadism, torture,
glorified violence, copulation, and ‘partying’,
of Hollywood ‘entertainment’ that children
flock to and imitate.

“Protect the Children.”

Teach Children By Example to discern
objective, moral Right from Wrong;
to have respect for their elders and neighbours;
and the maturity to exercise
Self Control and Personal Responsibility.

Tobacco is evil.

This in a society that ‘pops’ Pills,
swills Liquor, and Guzzles Coffee

while shovelling the fluffed lard, salt,
and grease of modern “foods”
down their collective throats,

in a ‘western world’ that knows nothing of
moderation, the responsible use … of anything,
or even basic common sense.

When I was growing up

Common Courtesy,
Proper Spelling, Speaking, Writing,
Basic Morality,
even Human Gender,

but the most depraved elements
of vulgar humanity.

Now obliterated from society,
the ONLY “Morality” today, is:

“Well, It’s legal.”

And if it is “legal” then … it is Good,
and Right, and Acceptable.

Right and Wrong is now determined
by political decree.

But even bureaucrats recognise
the pitiful state of modern mankind:

Seat Belts, Life Jackets, and Bicycle Helmets –
(I remember a world without any of those things)

– are enforced because human beings
are no longer capable of exercising Consideration,
Discretion, or Personal Responsibility.

Multitudes mutilate their bodies with tattoos
and ‘piercings’ to “express themselves”
by Imitating (!!!) ‘everyone else’ –

they connect themselves to machines
at every possible opportunity –

How long, one wonders,
before they are queuing to have vanity gadgets
installed in their own bodies ?

And these are the “adults”.

What chance have little children, who look up
to see Drug Use as the role model
for their own lives ?

It is beyond Disgraceful.

“War” on Drugs ???

In just one example,
Government-built “safe injection site” parlours
opened to provide addicts with comfortable lounges
and free paraphernalia in 2006.

By 2016, the free heroin prescriptions being
handed out in Vancouver, had already been
“… available for years in Britain, Denmark,
Germany, the Netherlands and Switzerland.”
[ New York Times, D Levin, 21 April, 2016 ]

FREE Heroin for current Drug Users.

LEGAL Marijuana
to Encourage all who
want to … BECOME … a Drug User.

But Pipe Tobacco is banned
as a bad example

… “to the children”.

The last thirty years of
systematic, sanctioned depravity ,

now make perfect sense:

I have been watching
the Methodical Destruction

of the human race.


The Lighthouse …


The Lighthouse

The lighthouse shines and sends its light
on darkest seas, through blackest night;
though none pause from their crass delight
to think of reefs just out of sight.

While many hasten to their doom,
that light shines on amidst the gloom;
in raging seas or hidden moon,
the lighthouse shines where dangers loom.

So many sank … who thought they knew
a selfish course would see them through;
they foundered, sank, perished too:
that lighthouse guides a Cautious Few.

A lighthouse lights though none will heed,
and most sail past at hurried speed;
the light guides those who will concede:
and have the sense to see their need.

This place attempts to light the way
of some who from the path might stray;
and should one read – its thoughts to weigh,
these ‘Old Paths’ will not betray.

– PL

“Bitter” ? … Just an Old Path, Along a Narrow way

An Open Reply to the Claim of Being … “Bitter”.

One of the alleys used to avoid the deluge of tourists when living
and working in Venezia: an Old Path … a Narrow Way … where one is obliged
to walk alone.

And hence it is come to pass, that
wherever there have been complaints of faults,
miscarriages, errors …
their counsels have only been
how to destroy the complainers – not in the least,
how they should reform themselves.

[ John Owen, 1616-1683 ]

Worldly men cannot endure to be outshone;
and because they have no mind to be
as good as others,

they would fain make others
to be as bad and vile as themselves:

therefore, they are full of hard thoughts
and hard speeches against good men.

[ Thomas Manton, 1620-1677 ]

I was born shortly after the start of the 1960’s.
That fact is the foundation for everything that appears
on this Internet site.

When I first began looking around the Internet in 2012,
it became readily apparent, that I could not –
watch the average video, read the average “blog”, or
be part of any ‘social site’ WITHOUT encountering
the disgusting obscenity … “f**k”.


I have previously mentioned the video that was
‘posted’ on YouTube by the mother of an autistic child;
and the obscene “comment” below it, telling that mother
that she should have “put your retard down” because she
was a “drain on society”.

Once I quelled the feelings of nausea that
actually sent me kneeling in front of the toilet
(yes, shows how ‘out of touch’ I am, doesn’t it?),

I had to contend with the fact that the Owners
of these YouTube pages Do Not Even POSSESS
the Common Moral Decency to Remove every trace
of These Vicious Creatures from Their YouTube Page.

So now this Sadistic Degradation is on TWO levels:
the malignant beings who make these statements, and,
the conscienceless creatures who see nothing wrong
with them.

BUT THEN, I looked for the plethora of comments
from the rest of the YouTube audience,
who voiced their disgust and loathing at the type of
malignant beings who made comments like that.

And you know ???

There was none. No one said a word.
No one voiced their disgust. Not one.

Now this Sadistic Degradation is on THREE levels:
the reprobate who makes it … the degenerate
who allow it on their YouTube pages … AND
the hordes on YouTube who see it – and do Nothing.

You see, THAT is the Difference between the 1960’s
and the sewer of today – People. The “general public”
then, would have voiced their moral outrage.

If ANY child had uttered an obscenity ANYWHERE
on our street in Northern Ireland, he would have received
a ‘clip on the ear’ or a ruddy good shaking
from whatever mother or wife happened to run past
her garden gate and get to him first.

But what is the conduct of humanity 50 years later
when surrounded by the depravity of vicious people?

Join him ? Encourage him ? Tell others so that
they can perhaps consider the thoughts that he presents ?


When finding a man who ventures onto the Internet
to challenge evil in the world … denigrate him;
attempt to invalidate everything that appears
on his Internet site by insisting that he is … “Bitter”.

I simply despise the laziness, apathy, and self-centredness
of those whose allow depravity to run rampant.

I am disgusted beyond description at people who were
raised in the type of moral society in which I was raised;

yet have spent the past forty years FACILITATING this
perverted society that is now standard in the world
… by doing and saying NOTHING.

And yet, when a man possessing Integrity,
makes an effort to do what they will not,
they quell the guilt that pricks them, by deriding
his efforts and dismissing him as … “Bitter”.

Because if he was Not “bitter”, then he would
obviously see that the modern world
is just wonderful.

What makes me wonder if it is worth the time and effort
is understanding all too well that, the world is now so debased,
that my even replying to this insult
will be dismissed

as a … “Rant”.

People want to be popular … and entertained.

Anything else is “uncomfortable” and unwanted.

“Bitter” (harsh, sour) – is an adjective that
does not apply to people who are attempting
to Sweeten the world … by espousing
Self-LESS-ness in an Age that is characterised
by Self-ISH-ness.

“Bitter” (resentful) – far from feeling resentment
at a world that has ‘let me down’ … this world
is so far BELOW my most crude instincts,
that I have no expectations that it could
possibly disappoint.

It has to do with an active Moral Conscience.

Having One.

When you See Nothing Wrong with the conduct
of modern humanity – on the Internet, or in ‘Life’,

Yes … all you WILL see is a “Bitter” man.

Along with “The Farce of Animal Rescue”,
the essay on this site that SHOULD stir
moral indignation in anyone who reads it is
“A Blind Man, A Dog, and Modern Humanity”.

Neither has merited comment. Ever.

HOW do you read the personal account
of a Blind Man being left to crawl
on a crowded city street … AND NOT
have one thing to say ???

WHAT KIND of Moral CORPSE do you have
to be, to read that account – and just move on
to your next bit of entertainment?

Unless it affects their Vanity, Lethargy,
or Bank Account, people, it seems, Can Not be
“moved” to Righteous Indignation any more.

Degeneracy is ignored or excused,
but never withstood.

What is “normal” to the bulk of humanity,
is depraved, to me … and I am simply asking
people to consider the narcissistic-to-vicious
conduct of modern human beings,

and ask themselves whether that is the example
that they want their 3-year old daughter
or grand-daughter to imitate.

Provide standards of moral decency.
Or do nothing, and make excuses for depravity.

I was shocked by the account of a mother
who was trying to dismiss the shock of taking
her teenaged daughter to her first “party”:

“Oh well, they are under such pressure now that
we never had: it’s hard for them to say “No”.

Pressure? … “We” … ???

The woman related how she her husband
had driven their daughter to a ‘party’ where,
at 7:00pm, they actually saw youths screaming
and swilling liquor in the front lawn of a house
– and left her there to be part of it.

“Under such pressure … that we never had” ???

I told her honestly that, as a teen, no amount of
reward would have enticed me to keep company
with vulgar, drunken louts.


“Why”, I asked the woman, “would ANY
responsible boy or girl even WANT to be
in the company of riotous, liquor-swilling yobs
like that?”

I wondered if it was she who later ‘downloaded’
52 articles from this site that evening.

I was incredulous, in 2008, when staying overnight
at the home of a fellow teacher, who told me
not to worry if I heard a noise in the night
… it would just be his 19 year old daughter
returning home from a date with her boyfriend.
“Sometimes the stairs creak” he said.

I gave him a dismissive wave: “If I hear
anything, I’ll remember that it’s her”.

“Usually, they’re quiet” my colleague said
as he bid me Good Night, and turned
to leave me in the spare room.

It was involuntary: “Sorry – What ???” I said.
He turned.
I continued, bemused … “You said, ‘they’re’ “

“Oh yeah”, he replied, they’ll go up
to my daughter’s bed; in her room.”

My face must have said it all. He added:

“Well, they’ll ‘do it’ anyway;
we’d rather it be here.”

He paused; then asked me what I would do.

I told him he would not want to know.
He said that he did. And so, I answered:

“I had a girlfriend when I was a teen; there
was nothing wrong with my hormones,
but I had limits that I would not cross.

What would I do ?

I would teach her to have enough respect for her
parents, and enough self control for her own dignity,
by not laying out a ‘Red Carpet’ to facilitate some
lust-driven punk, by turning our home
into a cheap hotel, with her mother and me
in the next room.”

The Blank Look.

I might as well speak in Anglo Saxon
with people today –

“Wreclástas wunian sorhcearig
þeáh-hwæðere þéos is min ænetlíf “

– for all the good it does.

“Parents” in the modern world, become acquainted
with EVERY form of Debauched, Immoral Perversion
under the sun …

And willingly SACRIFICE

their Teenaged DAUGHTERS to it.

Yes, I realise that the bulk of humanity now,
HAVE no moral centre … that THEY are
their only God, whose “morality” stops at ME,
but it is those who are older … those who COULD
HAVE Spoken Up, that raise my ire.

Those who, like me, were brought up in a world where
decorum, personal responsibility, and professionalism
were not merely expected, but demanded –

and who have sat there for years, allowing the steady,
suppurating cess-pool of modern degradation
to overflow onto their own grandchildren.

‘Bitter’? No. If I was THAT selfish, I would have
walked away from the Internet after the first year,
read books in my garden,

and let humanity continue on its demented course
of transforming themselves into human machines
incapable of original thought.

I care enough to be disgusted at “adults”
who have facilitated depravity in this world
by Saying … Nothing ;

by letting their children run at all hours of the night;

by installing ‘big screen TV’s’ so they could get
a better view of the violence and promiscuity …
and speakers, so that the filthy obscenities
could be heard more clearly.

I am trying to represent – on the Internet,
the standards of human decency that those people
have abandoned,

have clearly refused to insist upon from their
own children,

and have downright HIDDEN
from their grandchildren.

There is a reason why I have been ‘harping on’
over the past two years – begging people
to leave a word of greeting here, on this site:

I DO NOT WANT to believe that the human race
truly IS the way it appears to be.

But when observable Conduct and Conversation
declares that 21st century human beings have
(with very rare exception) degenerated into

apathetic, lazy, self-deifying, wilfully ignorant,
hedonistic, immoral, degenerate barbarians
whose entire purpose for existing on a daily basis
is to stare at a screen to gratify their Vanity,
and seek constantly to be Entertained,

forgive me,

if I find myself Compelled to accept –
without fear of intelligent contradiction
– that what I SEE, and what I HEAR

must Be True.

If YOU believe that a worldwide society
which cannot communicate or “entertain”
without the filthy obscenity “f—k”,

provides a healthy example for your 5 year old
grand-daughter to imitate, then yes –
you dismiss me as selfish, resentful, and ‘bitter’.

BUT if you KNOW – somewhere deep in your soul,
that the filth that has been the Entertainment Industry
for the past 30 years, has done nothing
but turn celluloid-imitating human beings
into brute beasts;

if you KNOW, deep down, that this feeding frenzy
of Self Worship … “Selfies”, Selfie Sticks,
‘Cell Phone’ obsession, and Social Media … has
created an entire race of Luciferian, self-deifying

then why not leave a word of encouragement –
rather than dismissing me

as a cantankerous old fool ?

I was told in 2012, by a woman from Australia,
that there “is not another site like this on the whole
Internet” – “nothing” she clarified, that offers moral
decency without a personal agenda” of join me,
join my club, join my denomination”.

I thought she was exaggerating to be kind – appreciative
of what she had read. But that had been her assessment
of this Internet site.

If she is wrong, and I truly am … “bitterly” … over-reacting
to the displays of putrid filth that SATURATE Internet
comments, popular “entertainment”, ‘TV’, and the
mouths and keyboards of millions of souls,

then you show me what YOU are doing to return Integrity,
and Self Control, and Discernment, and Moderation –
in an effort to make a moral difference in this world.

And if after all this explanation, you still want to insist
that I am … “Bitter” –

Very well …

I am “bitter” that people who were raised
in the same British schools
in which I was raised;
with the same courtesy, and etiquette, and humility,

have let all that civility, and decency, and self discipline
run through their figurative fingers,

so that they can use those fingers to text
and press buttons that allow them to stare at a screen
at every available moment of their waking existence.

I am ‘bitter’ that they have abandoned every example
they have ever had of femininity in women,
and decorum in men … and given their approval to
the depraved example that they have allowed to
“raise” their children and their grandchildren,
for the past 30 years.

I am ‘bitter’ that the type of lovely ladies – lovely
in dress, bearing, conversation and deportment
– who used to read bedtime stories to me as a little boy
whenever they happened to be visiting my parents’
house …

may never be known by any little boy or girl today.

How can I say such a thing ?

Because such women seem So manifestly Rare
in this world of aggressive, “break free”, “liberated”,
bestial, testosterone posturing,

that one might be forgiven for believing
that they have all but vanished from the face of the earth.

Malignant individuals figuratively murder articulate,
conscientious, morally upright, or even elderly, people
right, left, and centre in their vicious YouTube comments.

I have not so much as seen a television screen in 15 years;
and I would not degrade my mind by sitting in a cinema,
but even I know from taking pains to look at ‘trailers’
and ‘movie reviews’ that,

after 20 years of featuring graphic human torture,
people being sawn alive, contests where people
kill each other, and ‘zombies’ ripping people apart,
Hollywood is now making films featuring Witchcraft
as “freedom”, and Cannibalism as a way to success.

Human beings are so close to becoming machines
that even the human sexes have been obliterated.


that there is something ‘wrong’, ‘narrow-minded’ ‘
and bitter’ … with a man who is espousing
Courtesy, Consideration, and Conscience?

You are the same age as me?

You remember what I remember?

You actually have the experience to compare
Ladies … and Gentle Men from 1968,
with the slovenly, belligerent hordes of 2018 ?

Call me ‘bitter’ if that eases the annoying twinge
that someone like me makes in your conscience:

there are some things worth being ‘bitter’ about.

Stop trying to deride and dismiss me for being
someone who is Making an Effort
to return discernment and decency to this world:

Develop a moral conscience,

and do something Meaningful, yourself.


A Study in Scarlet … (Part 2: Mr Sherlock Holmes)

In Part 1, I endeavoured to expose the Ignorance
and curtail the bewilderment that is so
evidently confounding the modern masses who
find it an easy thing to wonder what Doyle
“was doing” when he included a “Wild West” story
in A Study in Scarlet.

Multitudes now base their conceptions of Holmes
upon the perverse, vulgar trash of a disgraceful
BBC series in which “Holmes” (from what segments
I have endured) is portrayed as a smart-mouthed punk,

do a tremendous disservice to themselves, and insult
(as does the buffoonery of said television atrocity)
the work and memory of Conan Doyle and his
dignified, mature … pipe smoking … character.

In providing the historical background to this story,
I sincerely hope that there will be one or two folk
who will receive it with appreciation, and find
new reason to enjoy the company of … CONAN DOYLE’s
Sherlock Holmes.

A Study in Scarlet


In the year 1878 I took my degree of Doctor of Medicine
of the University of London,
and proceeded to Netley to go through the course
prescribed for surgeons in the army.

Having completed my studies there, I was duly attached
to the Fifth Northumberland Fusiliers as Assistant Surgeon.

The regiment was stationed in India at the time,
and before I could join it,
the second Afghan war had broken out. …

I was removed from my brigade and attached to
the Berkshires, with whom I served at the fatal battle
of Maiwand.

There I was struck on the shoulder by a Jezail bullet,
which shattered the bone and grazed the subclavian artery. …

For months my life was despaired of, and when
at last I came to myself and became convalescent,
I was so weak and emaciated that a medical board
determined that not a day should be lost in sending me
back to England. …

I had neither kith nor kin in England, and was therefore
as free as air – or as free as an income of eleven shillings
and sixpence a day will permit a man to be.

Under such circumstances, I naturally gravitated to London,
that great cesspool into which all the loungers and idlers
of the Empire are irresistibly drained.

There I stayed for some time at a private hotel in the Strand,
leading a comfortless, meaningless existence,
and spending such money as I had,
considerably more freely than I ought.

So alarming did the state of my finances become,
that I soon realised that I must either leave the metropolis
and rusticate somewhere in the country,

or that I must make a complete alteration
in my style of living.

Choosing the latter alternative, I began by making up
my mind to leave the hotel, and to take up my quarters
in some less pretentious and less expensive domicile.

On the very day that I had come to this conclusion,
I was standing at the Criterion Bar,
when some one tapped me on the shoulder, and
turning round I recognized young Stamford,
who had been a dresser under me at Barts.

The sight of a friendly face in the great wilderness of London
is a pleasant thing indeed to a lonely man.
In old days Stamford had never been a particular crony of mine,
but now I hailed him with enthusiasm, and he, in his turn,
appeared to be delighted to see me.

In the exuberance of my joy, I asked him to lunch with me
at the Holborn, and we started off together in a hansom.

“Whatever have you been doing with yourself, Watson?”
he asked in undisguised wonder, as we rattled through
the crowded London streets.
“You are as thin as a lath and as brown as a nut.”

I gave him a short sketch of my adventures, and had hardly
concluded it by the time that we reached our destination.

“Poor devil!” he said, commiseratingly,
after he had listened to my misfortunes.

“What are you up to now?”
“Looking for lodgings,” I answered.
“Trying to solve the problem as to whether it is possible
to get comfortable rooms at a reasonable price.”

“That’s a strange thing,” remarked my companion;
“you are the second man to-day
that has used that expression to me.”

“And who was the first?” I asked.

“A fellow who is working at the chemical laboratory
up at the hospital. He was bemoaning himself this morning
because he could not get someone to go halves with him
in some nice rooms which he had found,
and which were too much for his purse.”

“By Jove!” I cried, “if he really wants someone to share
the rooms and the expense, I am the very man for him.
I should prefer having a partner to being alone.”

Young Stamford looked rather strangely at me
over his wine-glass.

“You don’t know Sherlock Holmes yet,” he said; “perhaps
you would not care for him as a constant companion.”

“Why, what is there against him?”
“Oh, I didn’t say there was anything against him.

He is a little queer in his ideas –
an enthusiast in some branches of science.
As far as I know he is a decent fellow enough.”

“A medical student, I suppose?” said I.

“No – I have no idea what he intends to go in for.

I believe he is well up in anatomy, and he is a first-class
chemist; but, as far as I know, he has never taken out
any systematic medical classes.

His studies are very desultory and eccentric,
but he has amassed a lot of out-of-the way knowledge
which would astonish his professors.”

“Did you never ask him what he was going in for?” I asked.

“No; he is not a man that it is easy to draw out, though he
can be communicative enough when the fancy seizes him.”

“I should like to meet him,” I said.

“If I am to lodge with anyone, I should prefer a man of studious
and quiet habits. I am not strong enough yet to stand much noise
or excitement. I had enough of both in Afghanistan to last me
for the remainder of my natural existence.

How could I meet this friend of yours?” …

As he spoke, we turned down a narrow lane and passed through
a small side-door, which opened into a wing of the great hospital.

It was familiar ground to me, and I needed no guiding
as we ascended the bleak stone staircase
and made our way down the long corridor
with its vista of whitewashed wall and dun-coloured doors.

Near the further end a low arched passage branched away
from it and led to the chemical laboratory.

This was a lofty chamber, lined and littered with countless bottles.
Broad, low tables were scattered about,
which bristled with retorts, test-tubes, and little Bunsen lamps,
with their blue flickering flames.

There was only one student in the room,
who was bending over a distant table absorbed in his work.

At the sound of our steps he glanced round
and sprang to his feet with a cry of pleasure.
“I’ve found it! I’ve found it,” he shouted to my companion,
running towards us with a test-tube in his hand. …

“Dr. Watson, Mr. Sherlock Holmes,” said Stamford,
introducing us.

“How are you?” he said cordially, gripping my hand
with a strength for which I should hardly have given him credit.

“You have been in Afghanistan, I perceive.”

“How on earth did you know that?” I asked in astonishment.

“Never mind,” said he, chuckling to himself. …

“We came here on business,” said Stamford,
sitting down on a high three-legged stool,
and pushing another one in my direction with his foot.

“My friend here wants to take diggings, and as you were
complaining that you could get no one to go halves with you,
I thought that I had better bring you together.”

Sherlock Holmes seemed delighted at the idea
of sharing his rooms with me.

“I have my eye on a suite in Baker Street,” he said,
“which would suit us down to the ground.

You don’t mind the smell of strong tobacco, I hope?”
“I always smoke ‘ship’s’ myself,” I answered. …

“Oh, that’s all right,” he cried, with a merry laugh.
“I think we may consider the thing as settled –
that is, if the rooms are agreeable to you.”

“When shall we see them?”

“Call for me here at noon to-morrow,
and we’ll go together and settle everything,” he answered.

“All right – noon exactly,” said I, shaking his hand.

We left him working among his chemicals,
and we walked together towards my hotel.


Holmes was certainly not a difficult man to live with.
He was quiet in his ways,
and his habits were regular.

It was rare for him to be up after ten at night,
and he had invariably breakfasted and gone out
before I rose in the morning.

It was upon the 4th of March, as I have good reason
to remember, that I rose somewhat earlier than usual,
and found that Sherlock Holmes had not yet finished
his breakfast.

… I picked up a magazine from the table
and attempted to while away the time with it,
while my companion munched silently at his toast.

One of the articles had a pencil mark at the heading,
and I naturally began to run my eye through it. …

The writer claimed by a momentary expression,
a twitch of a muscle or a glance of an eye,
to fathom a man’s inmost thoughts.

Deceit, according to him, was an impossibility
in the case of one trained to observation and analysis.

Before turning to those moral and mental aspects
of the matter which present the greatest difficulties,
let the enquirer begin by mastering more elementary problems.

Let him, on meeting a fellow-mortal,
learn at a glance to distinguish the history of the man,
and the trade or profession to which he belongs.

Puerile as such an exercise may seem,
it sharpens the faculties of observation,
and teaches one where to look and what to look for.

By a man’s finger nails, by his coat-sleeve, by his boot,
by his trouser knees, by the callosities of his forefinger
and thumb, by his expression, by his shirt cuffs –

by each of these things a man’s calling is plainly revealed.
That all united should fail to enlighten the competent enquirer
in any case is almost inconceivable.”

“What ineffable twaddle!” I cried,
slapping the magazine down on the table,
“I never read such rubbish in my life.”

“What is it?” asked Sherlock Holmes.

“Why, this article,” I said, pointing at it with my egg spoon
as I sat down to my breakfast.

“I see that you have read it since you have marked it.
I don’t deny that it is smartly written. It irritates me though.

It is evidently the theory of some arm-chair lounger
who evolves all these neat little paradoxes
in the seclusion of his own study.

It is not practical.

I should like to see him clapped down
in a third class carriage on the Underground,
and asked to give the trades of all his fellow-travellers.

I would lay a thousand to one against him.”

“You would lose your money,” Sherlock Holmes remarked calmly.

“As for the article I wrote it myself.”

As a boy … as a school-teacher in Italy …
and as a man past 55, I never lose that
thrill of anticipation upon opening one of Doyle’s
to re-live another adventure with Holmes,
and his friend and colleague, Dr Watson.

I hope that there might be one or two folk
who visit this page, who will feel the same way.

P Livingstone

Tom Crean: Tragic Epilogue of a Childhood Hero


After a peaceful stroll around the deserted harbour,
we walked the ten minutes distance
to our favourite second hand bookshop
for a bit of a root around.

There, in my regular haunt – the shelf of the European
History section, was the incredibly clean-looking spine
of a hardcover volume, whose title I recognised instantly.

Gently sliding it from the shelf, I even imagined that
I heard the slight crack of binding as I opened the cover
and looked at the frontispiece …

there, in the centre of the typescript, two words
that I would never have thought to see in any book
that would interest me, greeted my eyes.

First. Edition.

If the book had ever been read, it must
have been read only once. It was pristine.

The author being an American, this particular title
had been the only account of Shackleton
(or, rather, featuring a boyhood hero, Tom Crean)
that I had not read growing up in Northern Ireland.

From County Kildare … Ernest Shackleton

For me, as a boy in the 1960’s, Shackleton’s escape
from Antarctica was legendary.

Moderns can prate on all they care to about
“technological advances” …
in a world where human beings worship machines,
cannot exist for thirty minutes without being
somehow connected to one;
and enthuses about time-wasting, mind-liquefying toys:

we were adamantly assured, in the Royal Navy,

– apart from the exceptional 3500+ nm voyage
forced upon William Bligh as a result of the mutiny
on HMS Bounty –

Shackleton’s voyage in the James Caird rates
as the single greatest exhibition of seamanship
in historical record – not merely as relating to
pure nautical mileage, but for its appallingly
extreme conditions of endurance for human beings.

A wee while ago …

(Ship’s photographer, I am to the far right, in the front row.)

As a boy, the perseverance-in-adversity of those men
filled me with admiration.

But it was the Aftermath – the return to ‘daily life’
of Tom Crean, that affected me deeply.

It was a dreadful atrocity, I always thought,
to have realised that – after all his heroic efforts
with Scott, and later, Shackleton;

and upon his retirement in Ireland
as the landlord of his own ‘public house’,
The South Pole Inn, in Annascaul, County Kerry,

Tom Crean could never speak openly about his
life and adventures in the Antarctic.

Tom had, of course – during those adventures,
been with the Royal Navy: any reference
to that would be deemed to be admiration
of Britain by the type of stupid, sectarian mind
that blindly worships My Country and everything
to do with it.

Upon on his return to Ireland, Tom met with
this same brutal, mindless fervour from the low-grade,
scurrilous thugs of the Irish Republican movement.

In April, 1920, Tom’s beloved brother,
a member of the Royal Irish Constabulary,
had been ambushed and killed – shot four times –

by the same type of useless, vicious dregs of humanity
that run in ‘gangs’ because they are, in themselves
incapable of anything noble, heroic, or honourable.

And now, he was forbidden to speak
of his adventures and ‘daring do’,
by the same organisation of cut-throat thugs
who had murdered his brother …

“A three man RIC party based at Innishannon,
was ambushed while on patrol at Ballinspittal,
a village mid-way between Kinsale and Bandon,
by members of the Third West Cork Brigade
under the leadership of battalion adjutant Jim O’Mahony.

Sergeant Cornelius Crean
and Constable Patrick McGoldrick were killed outright,
while the other RIC man escaped uninjured.

Forty-eight year old Sergeant Crean, from Annascaul, Co. Kerry,
had twenty eight years police service,
having been a farmer before joining the RIC.

He was a brother of the famous explorer Tom Crean,
who had accompanied Ernest Shackleton
on his voyage to the South Pole in 1909.”

Tom, with Roger, Toby, Nell and Nelson

Obliged by sectarian thugs to ‘keep a low profile’,
Tom would outlive his brother by eighteen years.

Tom Crean died in July of 1938.


Self Esteem: Mass Rape and Murder … The Batavia Massacre

The following account must be, surely, a call
for modern-minded multitudes to start thinking
like mature adults (if such a concept has not been
bred out of humanity) once again.

For “fathers” to ‘grow up’ – dress, and talk, and
discipline and act like fathers who deserve the name;

for parents to teach their children to have consideration
for others; accountability for selfishness;
and instill in them the concept that they are NOT
the centre of the universe.

for “mothers” to be mothers and raise young ladies
with modesty, sobriety, and the moral fibre to say ‘No’
to every lecherous proposition they receive;

for school-teachers to ensure that students have the ability
to carry on an intelligent conversation; to read, and write
– like adults once did;

For adults to begin to act with sober-minded maturity
(And if they have none of their own – acquire it.

Humanity has lost its moral integrity.

Men dress, act, and speak like slobs.
Women pride themselves in being aggressive.

Bureaucrats take the extreme actions of the vicious, the vulgar;
the dangerously stupid, and the observably immature,
and ‘tar’ everyone in society – the diligent, the discrete,
and the responsible – with the absurdities of “Health and Safety”.

And while human beings have spent a decade merging
with machines – incapable of existing without being attached
to one – they have descended into self-deifying savages,
as the bulk of Internet comments and profanity-spewing
conduct of multitudes in public, clearly confirms.

It this Self Esteem madness does not stop, the horror
of the Batavia can only begin.

Travel back with me then, some 390 years, to consider

Practical Lessons from a particularly sadistic Massacre …

Francisco Pelsaert was a Company Man.

And in 1628, he had determined to rise high
in the Dutch East Indies Company.

Part of his strategy, was to take a position of
overseeing the transport of silver to the Island of Java.

As a company man, Pelsaert was in ultimate command
of the company-owned ship, Batavia.
Even the ship’s captain found himself subservient
to the decisions made by Pelsaert.

Second to Pelsaert, was another company employee –
a failed apothecary named Jeronimus Cornelisz,
whose Chemist’s Shop was forced out of business
due to economic hardship …

… and whose reputation was not helped
by the fact that he was a member of a depraved,
orgiastic cult whose leader, Johannes Torrentius,
had been tracked down and imprisoned by the
Dutch authorities.

The Dutch East Indies Company was Cornelisz’s
way out of bankruptcy, and a comparatively
miserable life.

Third in line of authority, the ship’s captain,
Ariaen Jacobsz, was a brilliant seaman;
and an even more accomplished drunkard.

Though accounts are varied, there were around 341
souls onboard Batavia, which included

Lucrezia van den Mylen, 27, (genuinely regarded as
the most beautiful woman in Holland) was one of
about 30 women women travelling,

in addition to an assortment of children, men, and
around a hundred soldiers.

Having tried to ingratiate his obnoxious self upon
Lucrezia, Jacobsz found himself thoroughly repulsed
by the woman. Arriving in (what would become)
Cape Town,

Pelsaert went ashore leaving Jacobsz
who set about not merely becoming outrageously drunk,
but rowing to neighbouring ships
from which, he was summarily forced to leave.

Upon Pelsaert’ return, Pelsaert humiliated Jacobsz
in from of the entire ship’s company.
Seething with rage, Jacobsz was approached by Cornelisz,
with the prospect of mutiny.

Eight mutineers captured Lucrezia, tore her clothes off,
smeared her with faeces, and dangled her over the side
of the ship – all in an effort to force retaliation from Pelsaert
which would, they imagined, provide an “excuse” for mutiny.

Pelsaert, however, knew that he dare not attempt to
punish these depraved creatures on a confined ship,
and elected to wait until reaching land.

Such was the ‘atmosphere’ on board the Batavia
in the first few days of June, 1629.

While under full sail, in the early morning
of the 4th of June, 1629,
bridge lookout Hans Bosschieter
alerted the captain that he saw a reef ahead.

It is utterly irrelevant whether any, or how many,
other ships struck this reef:
as a former Royal Navy man,
I know from experience that the ship’s care
is the responsibility of the officer of the watch.

In this instance, the captain WAS warned by the lookout
of possible danger ahead …

… and seemingly with that dismissive arrogance
which is frequently evident whenever
people of low character are placed in positions
of authority, scoffed and dismissed the warning
as merely moonlight glinting off the waves.

At just past 3:00 a.m. … Batavia hit the reef at full speed.

The grounding took place on Morning Reef in the Wallabi Group
which comprised two islands and a series of exposed cays
(reef, rock, and sand that, because of their small size, could not
reasonably be called ‘islands’) some 45 miles off the coast
of Western Australia.

This portion of the Wickham-Stokes, Royal Navy/Admiralty Chart
shows the relation of the Wallabi Group islands to the western coast of Australia, which appears on the extreme right.

While approximately 40 souls drowned the night of the grounding,
women, children and babies were rowed from the grounding site
to the invariably-described-as ‘womb-shaped’ Beacon Island, which was
situated across the shallows and to the north west of the stricken vessel.

Forty men set up camp on a rock called ‘Traitor’s Island’,
while the 70 sailors – now under “command” of Cornelisz,
remained on the grounded ship passing their time by throwing
silver bullion at each other, and swilling liquor from the ship’s stores.
Twenty of the drunken creatures managed not to be drowned
in the seas that bashed the foundered ship that night.

Pelsaert, the captain, and few ‘VIP’ guests remained on a rocky cay
until the decision was made that they would board a 25-foot longboat
and row for Batavia (Java). Leaving the 250-plus survivors,
Pelsaert and his 47-member company duly left in the longboat
on their voyage for help.

The ‘womb-shaped’ form of Beacon Island, just above and off-centre.
The reef which claimed the Batavia is visible at the bottom of the photograph.

With Pelsaert gone, Cornelisz was now officially in control.

Ostensibly to search for water, Cornelisz had 20 soldiers
accompany a 21-year old corporal named Wiebbe Hayes
in being rowed to a larger, neighbouring island.

If they found water (which Cornelisz was confident they
would not), they were to signal the main party.

With Wiebbe and his twenty competent soldiers out of the way,
Cornelisz and his thugs proceeded to stave off boredom
through a course of systematic rape and murder of the passengers.

Outside of the butchery inflicted upon biblical Christians
for 1600 years by both Pagan and Papal Rome, some of the
most uncomfortable reading to be had is to be found

in the descriptions of the murder and rape of the 125 inhabitants
of that island, at the hands of Cornelisz, and the sadistic savages
who sided with him.

Once Cornelisz and his ‘men’ had sufficiently entertained
themselves by

stabbing and cutting the throats of those who fell sick …
drowning or strangling others …
and poisoning a baby in order to watch it bleed to death from
its mouth and rectum,

they would relieve daily monotony by whimsically selecting
who would be next to be murdered.

Wiebbe – who had discovered a natural well on the distant Island –
had sent a smoke signal as agreed; realised that they were being ignored,
and knew that their presence was not wanted.

But, he could never have had any concept of what was occurring
over on Beacon Island. Without weapons, they would have been
powerless to help against the muskets that were held by the mutineers.

Amidst that perversely drawn-out, reign of carnage, thirty men
had managed to escape on haphazard rafts, making their way
to Wiebbe and his men on West Wallabi Island.

It was from these escapees that Wiebbe learned of the systematic
rape and slaughter that was systematically claiming
the ever-diminishing survivors.

The ‘fortunate’ ones, who were allowed to live, consisted of
a few tolerated men (one a Calvinist preacher whose wife and daughters
were brutally murdered);

and five married women who were spared for … “natural use”.

Constant fear of being ‘next’ to be murdered, or brutally and
repeatedly raped, comprised the daily existence of those who were
‘spared’ by Cornelisz and his band of filth who used the survivors
to gratify every whim of their depraved minds.

It was a society in which men lived according to the own dictates
of Self Esteem and its unrestrained depravity.

“How can I believe in God,
when there is all this suffering and cruelty in the world?”

is the imbecile declaration that is spouted as self-righteous
vindication by those who blame God

for the conduct of depraved Men.

Men throw every notion of God out of their lives,
their homes, their schools, and their “churches”
in order to live their own way …

and then have the audacity to complain
because the very God that they so vehemently despise,
does not ‘take care’ of the world for them.

Men demand “the right” to do things their own way:
and when the tyranny and greed … Of Men … results in disease,
cruelty, crime, tyrannical wars, and injustice,

they are impudent enough to blame God for the treachery
of self-serving, conscienceless, and psychopathic … Men;

And use that perverse “logic” to assert that God cannot exist.

If I insist upon touching the flame
which is boiling a kettle of water,

and am painfully burned;

I do not blame my mother,
who has warned me not to do that.

Consider biblical morality, for instance:

1. People refuse to set objective rules that will make society safe.
2. They hate the source of those rules which would make society safe.
3. And then blame the Originator whose rules they reject
4. because he allows them the freedom to live under their own rules …
5. which result in human misery.

Truly, you just could not make this up!


Determined to be rid of Wiebbe and his men, Cornelisz and his thugs
took muskets and rowed for the Island …

… never imagining that they would be greeted with resistance
from Wiebbe and his soldiers brandishing (it may be presumed)
stones, slings, and any other form of weapon that Wiebbe’s men
could fashion from their rock-wall stronghold on the flat island.

On the 17th September, 1629 – during a third attempt to attack Wiebbe
Corneliesz saw – as did Wiebbe – a sail on the horizon.

Pelsaert was returning.

The battle forgotten, Corneliesz told his men to row towards
the approaching ship.

As did Wiebbe.

The race would be crucial:

If Cornelisz reached the rescuers first, he might carry out
his suspected intent to capture Pelsaert’s rescue ship.
If Wiebbe reached the ship first, he could warn Pelsaert
and inform him of what had taken place.

Looking overboard at the approach of Cornelisz’ boat,
Pelsaert’s suspicion was aroused when he noted that
the mutineers were armed with muskets.

Faced with a wall of musket barrels pointing down at them,
Cornielisz’s men quickly dropped their weapons.

Approaching the Island area with the rescue party from Java,
Pelsaert had noticed Corneliesz’s thugs rowing for the
one remaining island that held people: West Wallabi,
which he knew had been settled by Wiebbe Hayes
and those who went with him in search of water.

Now, with the arrival of Pelsaert and the rescue party,
the truth was quickly made evident.


Pelsaert – the authority on behalf of the company that
actually owned the Batavia – quickly held trial.

Although justice has been eradicated from the 21st century,
it still existed in the 17th.

And it was faithfully administered.

Unrepentant and defiant to the end, Jeronimus Cornelisz
was made to kneel before the executioner.

The woman, Lucretia, whom he had kept as a sexual toy,
was quite properly given opportunity to vent her righteous
rage at him.

Cornelisz’ hands were removed with a hammer and chisel.

With arms bound, he was pushed up a gallows ladder
where a noose was secured.

At the top of the ladder, Cornelisz was kicked into space.

And evil was removed from the world.

His murdering cronies followed, although some were spared
the torment of amputation.

Three were “dropped”.

(A punishment in which the arms are tied behind the back
with the end of a 40-foot rope;

the rope end being tied to the mast, they were pushed off
and ‘dropped’.

When the rope runs taught, the shoulders are utterly dislocated.

This is repeated twice more.

A flogging followed.)

Several mutineers were keel-hauled and flogged.

Two – Jan Pelgrom and Wouter Loos – were sentenced to be marooned
on the Australian coast, where disease, hunger, or natives may,
or may not, have dispensed temporal justice upon them.

One – who had enjoyed selecting the murder victims at will –
was “broken on the wheel”.

(A mode of execution where the condemned is tied, spread-eagled
on a large (usually wagon) wheel.

Beginning with his fingers and toes – and working inwards to the core,
every major bone in his body is systematically broken.)

Seven executed.
Two marooned.

If (in those who possess a conscience) accounts of moral fortitude
cannot but hearten; then – surely, accounts of moral atrocity cannot
but caution .

“The wicked walk on every side
when the vilest men are exalted.”

The savages of the Batavia disaster were vulgar, “partying”,
conscienceless … “ordinary” … men.

The account of the Batavia has always been a poignant reminder,
for me, of the treachery and duplicity of those

who serve no higher master than ‘Self’.

P Livingstone