Cual fue la ley anterior a 1929?

1) La Marcha de los indignados, 2) Carlismo de izquierda comunismo o no?, 3) Uno como otro no es malo como solución en algunos casos ..., 4) Respuesta de un Carlista sobre Propriedad Privada y Montejurra '76, 5) Despenalizar las relaciones sexuales entre adolescentes?, 6) Enfrente a un defensor de maraconías ..., 7) Cual fue la ley anterior a 1929?, 8) Quienes fueron los enemigos de los gitanos?, 9) Cuando Matteotti fue matado, Mussolini a condenado a los asesinos ...., 10) Mercado, estudios y otras cosas (entre carlistas en FB), 11) La tradición carlista como yo - un sueco - la conozco y honro., 12) A transmeter a Esteban Morillo, 13) Hé leido que el video le inocenta!, 14) Contra el Maniqueismo


Parece que hay diferentes problemas que se augmentan los unos a los otros por las personas expulsadas.

Una parece ser la ley sobre hipotecas de 1929. Quisiera saber si la ley anterior fue más favorable al deudor o menos.

Otro problema: en 1929 más gente vivieron en pequeñitas casas sin alquiler y menos alquilaban su domicilio. Entonces hay hoy más deudas que antes para solo vivir en casa.

El padre de Sor Eusebia hacía la manga para comer, cuando no hubo trabajo campesino. Quien puede imaginar que entonces él pudía pagar un alquiler también? Clara que tenían una casita, como no hay hoy tantas.

Peró eso solo es el económico. Hoy hay suicidios entre expulsados. Porqué? Porqué la gente de España ha dejado en gran parte la religión cristiana. La fé - quien obliga a la esperanza y a la caridad. La fé quien dice que el hecho de suicidarse conduce al infierno. La esperanza quien dice que la Providenza de Dios dará una solución - al menos al cielo - a los que esperan y mantienen la caridad, hasta Dios, hasta la propria alma, hasta el prójimo y hasta el proprio cuerpo. En ese órden. Una expulsación es un malo para el cuerpo del expulsado, no siempre para su prójimo, no para su alma, y Dios mismo dió el ejemplo cuando su madre y su padre adoptivo buscaban un cuartel muy improvisado para Navidad.

Hé sobrevecido yo a dos expulsaciones. Non hé comiso suicidio. Yo soy Cristiano.

Hans-Georg Lundahl
Bpi, Georges Pompidou, París
En Vísperas de San Tomás Apóstol
20-XII-2012

And There Were Other Mourners

A smallish bus arrived close to the place of events.

Out stepped a few people who seemed to have prepared themselves for the sight of the worst: the death of their near and dear ones. They wept with tears, but did not cry loud.

As they each stepped closer to diverse dead bodies, one of them started to sing "safely gathered in". A few of them, but not all joined in.

Somehow Susan felt that was true about the Seven.

When they had finished, another man started "dies ire, dies illa, solvet secla in favilla, teste david et sibilla". The others joined in.

And, for a moment, Susan felt perfectly at peace in her heart.

Why she recalled a Stone Table, where she had cried with Lucy - who now lay dead herself - over a dead lion, when she heard the words "tantus labor non sit cassus" she knew not. She did not know Latin. But she did recall a morning breeze that ended mourning and a Stone Table with Aslan gone.

Tre temata francesi

Parigi è una città di quale l'abitante si chiama un parigio o un parigo

I parigi prefiérono il singulare parigo italiano, scrivendolo "parigot" e pronunciandolo parigò. Con un erre genovese, si piace!

Si dice "de la Nut" en francese!

Signorina Piloquet, la Nutella no solo finisce con un a, anche è una pasta della nocciola. Se la pasta de la nocciola può essere considerata como una piccola nocciola, fu possibile chiamarla noccioletta, mai visto che il inglese "nut" significa tanto nocciola (hazel nut) quanto noce (walnut), e per far breve, si ha imposto al signor Ferrero la possibilità di dicere "nutella", lo che chiamano effectivamente questa pasta di nocciola.

Su gusto è perfetto.

Purtroppo, non è il caso col gusto literario di su collega Alano Sanders.

Colla Odisea faltava far miglio che il Ulysse di Giacobo Joyce!

C. S. Lewis e J. R. R. Tolkien avévano a scrivere sulle classice di Omero.*

Il uno aveva il diritto, che mi sembra e sembrava quasi un privilegio, di leggere la Iliade nella casa del istitutore Kirkpatrick. En greco antiquo. Quando nella prima Guerra Mondiale sentió il suono dei balli dei fucili, pensó "this is war, this is what Homer wrote about".

Il altro troveva nella stessa Odissea una dimensione quasi evangélica. Il ritorno di Ulisse è una "eucatastrofe", como la resurrezione.

Pensate un poco alla detressa di Penélope, tutto giorno minacciata e intimidata per gli spasimanti. Pensate alla sua speranza contra la speranza, a uni momenti ridutta ad un affetto senza chiara speranza razionale. Ed un giorno il marito riviene ed i spasimanti sono necati. Che insperata delivranza!

Il matrimonio è un grande misterio in Cristo e la Chiesa. Il matrimonio è un grande misterio di Cristo e la Chiesa. È vero anche per il matrimonio puramente naturale di Ulisse e Penélope, inquanto per misterio si intende símbolo.

Di questo puó farsi miglio che lo che ho letto del Ulisse di Joyce. E senza nomarlo, le opere dei Inklings fanno miglio, anche coll'inspirazione classica.

Hans-Georg Lundahl
Biblioteca di
Giorgio Pompidou
San Gregorio Thaumaturgo
17-XI-2012

*L'autobiografía Surprised by Joy del uno ed il saggio On Fairy-Stories del altro.

Enfrente a un defensor de maraconías ...

1) La Marcha de los indignados, 2) Carlismo de izquierda comunismo o no?, 3) Uno como otro no es malo como solución en algunos casos ..., 4) Respuesta de un Carlista sobre Propriedad Privada y Montejurra '76, 5) Despenalizar las relaciones sexuales entre adolescentes?, 6) Enfrente a un defensor de maraconías ..., 7) Cual fue la ley anterior a 1929?, 8) Quienes fueron los enemigos de los gitanos?, 9) Cuando Matteotti fue matado, Mussolini a condenado a los asesinos ...., 10) Mercado, estudios y otras cosas (entre carlistas en FB), 11) La tradición carlista como yo - un sueco - la conozco y honro., 12) A transmeter a Esteban Morillo, 13) Hé leido que el video le inocenta!, 14) Contra el Maniqueismo

Un "carlista de izquierda" me ha dicho o escrito sobre FB algunas cosas, hé respuesto.

"Jesucristo no condenó nunca la homosexualidad."

Es o no es el Dios quien destroyó a Sodom, quien habló a Moyse, y cuyo es apostol San Pablo?

"la unión entre iguales no se llama matrimonio, pero que tienen que tener obviamente los mismos derechos"

la unión entre iguales no se llama matrimonio y tal unión es pecado y no tiene los mismos derechos, peró las personas con homosexualidad puramente afectiva tienen el mismo derecho de preferir el matrimonio a la sodomía que los demás

"Si todo lo visible y lo invisible es creación divina, y el comportamiento homosexual se observa también en los animales, es porque es una forma natural de limitar la procreación de las especies y del ser humano."

No. La homosexualidad se observa también en animales unicamente bajo condiciones sin dignidad, como el hecho que perros sodomizan machos más jovenes para dominar o en ausencia de hembras etc.

Limitar la procreación de la especie humana (tanto que sea necesario) se hace con abstinencia y no con maraconías.

"Si una persona hace daño a otra persona, sea de la condición que sea, y si además hay un menor de edad, ya es en este último caso pederastia, con lo cual, no sería legítimo, ni consentido, porque habría violación."

Por el matrimonio, la edad para consentir es tradicionalmente 14/12 según el sexo. Te parece una edad para consentir a se hacer sodomizar? O te parece HOY demasiado jóven para el matrimonio también, a pesar que no lo fue siglos y siglos del Cristianismo?

"Algunos jerarcas de la Iglesia Católica están más preocupados por atacar a los homosexuales, que al sistema capitalista y a las injusticias sociales derivadas de este sistema económico."

Tradicionalmente es a la vez la usuria y la maraconía que son consideradas como contro la natura.

"Personas condenadas a no poder realizar su 'Unión Civil', veían claro su futuro dentro de la Iglesia Católica, donde serían respetados por el resto de la población tradicionalmente homofoba."

Hypotesi puramente cathophoba!

1) Prueba que tal vocación quería una unión civil y prendió la vocación por no poder hacer lo que quería?

2) No sabe que la Iglesia ensayaba muy energicamente de excluir las vocaciones por motivo de homosexualidad, visto que ligeres señales de maraconía fueron antes de Vatican II una condena a dejar el monasterio o el clérigo o los dos!

"No se trata tanto de si es o no es una posición política de un partido político determinado"

Para mi, si!

Un rey quien sostiene la unión entre iguales no es católico y por consecuencia no es legitimo. Y Partido Carlista es ligado a un de los pretendientes carlistas a exclusión de su tío.

"Hans confunde al "Dios vengativo" de los Judios del Antiguo Testamento con Jesucristo quien nos dijo: "Amaos los unos a los otros"."

- Es el mismo Dios. Poner una diferencia o una oposición es héréjía, por ejemplo esa de los Albigenses.

"Un Dios perfecto bueno y justo jamás destruiría nada, ni lanza maldiciones ni hechizos malignos. Eso sólo puede provenir del mismos Satanás!"

- Y por supuesto el mismo Satanás destruyó al ejercito del Pharaón para liberar a Israel también? Nonono!

[digolo a tal mismo y amigo suyo] ... sois herejes albigenses, no sois católicos, lo siento.

[otro:]"homosexuales la mitad de la sociedad????"

[respuesta:] "Al parecer según un estudio el 40% de la población lo es"

No crees la Santa Biblia, peró crees estudios quienes registran como "homosexuales" gente que una vez o dos se han sentido attrahidos por una persona del mismo sexo - o algo.

Yvetotiade, index

Mon "ticket" vers Bayeux:
Avis d'infraction n°4487700785 identité M. Lundahl Hansgeorg Né le 06/09/1968 Vienne Autriche Chez ESI St Martin 27 ter Bd de St Martin 75003 Paris France La personne faisant l'objet de ce procès verbal confirme l'exactitude de son identité et de son adresse. Infraction: Voyage sans billet de: Paris St Lazare à: Bayeux le 15/10/2012 à 21:45 train 003323 Transaction:
Insuffisance de perception:	37,40€
Indemnité forfaitaire:	25,00€
Frais de dossier:	30,00€
Total à regler:	92,40€
Les choses se passaient de manière parfaitement civilisée entre moi et le contrôleur.
	lundi 15/X/2012, Ste Thérèse: j'étais à Paris lundi/mardi 16/X: je suis parti pour Bayeux mardi soir: pour écouter une conférence, nuit à mercredi 17/X mercredi: et ensuite je voulais en faire un résumé mercredi soir/jeudi matin 18/X jeudi: La connexion internet se passe mal les jeudis à Bayeux, je fais le stop vers Caen. jeudi/vendredi 19/X vendredi samedi matin 20/X: Il se passe mal à Caen, j'essaie de faire le stop vers Paris. samedi: Je marche sur l'autoroute (la filière de côté où les voitures ne peuvent pas conduire sauf pour s'arrêter en cas de nécessité grave), samedi: les gendarmes m'arrêtent mon marche et me déposent pas du tout dans le bon sens, mais à Pont-l'Évêque. samedi: J'essaie de faire le stop vers Paris pendant des heures, j'échoue, samedi: j'essaie de prendre le train vers Lisieux, je réussis à le prendre dans l'autre sens, à Deauville-Trouville. samedi/dimanche 21/X dimanche: J'essaie de faire le stop de là, je m'arrête à Touques, lundi matin 22/X: je continue à faire le stop vers Honfleur, je me fais embarquer même jusqu'Au Havre, lundi lundi / mardi 23/X mardi mardi / mercredi 24/X, St Raphaël mercredi soir: et la veille les conditions là-bas s'étaient dégradés entre moi et quelques Musulmans, donc j'ai quitté la ville, essayé de faire le stop vers Paris, et pourquoi pas pris l'autoroute mais la route verte? Parce que je voulais éviter d'être encore une fois embarqué par les gendarmes. Quatre personnes me prennent, et c'est comme ça que je suis arrivé chez vous. mercredi/jeudi 25/X: intro jeudi matin: Il me souhaite une bonne journée et bonne route, je lui souhaite également une bonne journée. - Yvetôt - Ste Marie des Champs - vers Rouen jeudi midi: à Rouen jeudi/vendredi 26/X vendredi vendredi/samedi 27/X samedi samedi/dimanche 28/X dimanche St Sever dimanche Petit Quivilly dimanche Grand Quevilly vers les Couronne vers Paris arrivée à Paris rencontre loupe le repas en marchant vers toilettes graffiti un peu de calme le soir
Les courriers de SNCF, pour Deauville aussi. M. l'administrateur de SNCF devrait savoir que Hans-Georg est la forme allemande pour Jean-Georges, donc masculin, donc Monsieur. Il note pourtant Madame/Monsieur. Peut-être bochophobie administrative, mais non seulement la guerre est finie, aussi les Autrichiens étaient des Malgré-Nous (comme mainte Alsacien), et les Suédois qui utilisent aussi des formes allemandes de certains pré-noms n'étaient pas dans la guerre.
Ceux-là sont correctes. Par contre, le suivant p v est le premier au train vers Deauville-Trouville. Le contrôleur avait présumé sans preuve que j'étais parti de Paris ce jour, tandis que je l'étais déjà sur le voyage de Bayeux. Le parcours était donc uniquement de Pont-l'Évêque, est le p v suivant est basé sur le malentendu initial du contrôleur:
Et j'aurais évidemment été moins démuni si je n'avais pas trouvé des blocages à propos les republications de mes essais, voir article: Triviū, Quadriviū, 7 cætera : Enlevons un doute juridique s'il y en a qui en sont tracassés à propos de moi! triv7quadriv.blogspot.com/2012/11/enlevons-un-doute-juridique-sil-y-en.html

Yvetotiade, intro

Tard le soir de la fête de St Raphaël, je pense arriver à Yvetot. J'essaie de demander quelque chose à manger avant de me coucher dans la première maison, où c'est allumé. Ils n'ouvrent pas. Je passe quelques maisons et prend la troisième entrée et un coin un peu abrité du bruit. Je me couche sans rien demander.

Un peu plus tard un homme m'apperçoit dans mes sacs de couchage et dans la hoodie autour de ma tête et de mes épaules. Je le salue.

Il me demande de partir, parce que j'aurais froid, je chopperais la crève, je réponds que je ne puis plus continuer (Yvetot étant 2 km plus loin). Je demande par contre d'avoir un café le matin avant de partir, il se fâche et me dit que si je ne suis pas parti avant six heures du matin, "ça va chauffer". Je lui dis "merci".

Le matin venu, il ne me maltraite pas pour y être resté, bien au contraire, quand je sonne (c'est déjà allumé et les oies des voisins font déjà leur bruit), il me donne effectivement un café et des madeleines. On cause. Ais-je eu trop froid? Non (mais il paraît que j'aurais eu moins froid sous un hangar juste un peu plus loin). Où suis-je venu?

Là je raconte l'histoire qui, résumée ici et continuée après ce rencontre va constituer l'Yvetotiade.

Je vis à Paris dans la rue, j'y ai une adresse postale, j'étais à Paris, je suis parti pour Bayeux pour écouter une conférence, et ensuite je voulais en faire un résumé. La connexion internet se passe mal les jeudis à Bayeux, je fais le stop vers Caen. Il se passe mal à Caen, j'essaie de faire le stop vers Paris. Je marche sur l'autoroute (la filière de côté où les voitures ne peuvent pas conduire sauf pour s'arrêter en cas de nécessité grave), les gendarmes m'arrêtent mon marche et me déposent pas du tout dans le bon sens, mais à Pont-l'Évêque. J'essaie de faire le stop vers Paris pendant des heures, j'échoue, j'essaie de prendre le train vers Lisieux, je réussis à le prendre dans l'autre sens, à Deauville-Trouville. J'essaie de faire le stop de là, je m'arrête à Touques, je continue à faire le stop vers Honfleur, je me fais embarquer même jusqu'Au Havre, et la veille les conditions là-bas s'étaient dégradés entre moi et quelques Musulmans, donc j'ai quitté la ville, essayé de faire le stop vers Paris, et pourquoi pas pris l'autoroute mais la route verte? Parce que je voulais éviter d'être encore une fois embarqué par les gendarmes. Quatre personnes me prennent, et c'est comme ça que je suis arrivé chez vous. - Il me souhaite une bonne journée et bonne route, je lui souhaite également une bonne journée./HGL

A Centaur and Some Egyptologists

Oh bother, the Archeology team was getting off. Susan had cried out, she was desolate to realise they had believed the lies (of course, from their point of view it was no lies, they thought of her as mad, and Aïsha was in a way a kind of sister to her). It angered her, as did the physical discomfort. A hand over your mouth and being held hands behind your back is not comfortable.

"Oh dear ..." said Mrs Dinkley. "Shall we really trust them?"

"What else can we do, dear?" said Mr Dinkley. "We are not the police."

And off they went. With the rest.

The mouth was left free. "Dear Virgin Mary, pray for me: I am at a loss!"

She heard a thunder of hoofs. It came closer. She felt some more air, she felt they were letting go of her, and ... suddenly she saw everyone else was running away. She looked after them. Only Aïsha was standing there.

"Allah is great, you got what you wanted."

"But who is riding to us?"

"Look behind."

A Centaur was running towards them and it was stopping. If you do not know what a Centaur is, it is the head and arms and body of a man down to the waist - on top of where the neck of a horse would begin.

Even if Susan had seen quite a few Centaur's in Narnia, she was a bit afraid and made a sign of the cross. The Centaur kneeled down, and as his words in a strange outlandish accent meant nothing to her (she had not the gift of tongues), he pointed to his back as if beckoning her to take a seat.

"Aïsha, can I really leave you here alone?"

"Go, sister! Allah has granted your wish and maybe heard your prayers, mine will be back when the monster is gone with you."

And Susan mounted the Centaur, in this world. She put her hands on his shoulders, he rose and ran. As she saw Pyramids far off she wondered if that was where the Dinkleys and the rest of them were going. But soon the Centaur frightened the Egyptologists, except the Dinkleys.

"Who is that on the horse?"

"A girl behind a man, but I cannot make out the head of the horse."

"That's because you are shortsighted dear."

And the Centaur knelt down again so as to let Susan descend, and off it went with a swift flight across the plain of sand spreading out in every direction, and yet he soon seemed to reach the horizon, because no more of him was to be seen. The thumping of hooves was strong at first and quickly subsided.

"Susan, is that you?"

"You have your glasses on your forehead, take them on and take a look!"

Mrs Dinkley did so.

"It is you. Jinkies, I never thought I'd see you again."

"What date is it?"

"You have been away from people? It is the Sixth of December, so it is still 1953. Sunday."

She looked back at all those weeks she had been in the caravan and before at Aïsha's home, back in Tunisia. It was really quite a long time since they had met.

"Mr Dinkley, Mrs Dinkley, it is so good to see you again. I have been for months with some Arabs, and in the end I was worried they were taking me to Mecka to force me to be a Moslem!"

"How awful. Dreadful, with those people you never quite know where you are. Nine times of ten, they are ..."

"Nine times of ten they are wonderfully nice to you, but the tenth time it may be better not to be around them."

"Pretty much sums up what I was going to say, Miss Pevensie. Can I call you Susan? You can call me Angie if you like."

"Yes, Angie, I'd be honoured."

"So, it is nearly two months since we met, and meanwhile ..."

"Your child is born?"

"Come and meet our daughter Velma. Actually Velma Elisabeth."

And in they went to the tent, and there in the cradle lay a baby with ... well, as rose and white had not been available, they had taken orange and white for her clothes.

"Oh how sweet ..." Susan began saying hello to Velma babe ... as she did smile but not look very much at her or anyone, Susan turned around and said: "Angie, I bet she'll be just like you, she is already shortsighted."

"Oh no, don't say that. Just because I am Dale are, it doesn't mean ... oh dear, well, she'll look a darling in glasses too if you are right."

And Susan and Angie Dinkley were both right, as you may already know if you have seen the films about Velma Dinkley's friends and dog and herself. They are usually known by the name Scooby-Doo, which was to be the name of her future dog.

Dale (the father of Velma Dinkley, as we may now call him) chirped in: "was that you who was trying to shout along with those Arabs?"

"Yes, I was so close to you I could actually hear you saying 'we are not the police', but glad to be with you anyway!"

"And what decided them to let you go anyway? Was the rider one of them?"

"The rider?" she guffawed when she realised he meant the Centaur.

"Oh dear, we have woken little Velma ..." said Angie. And stepped in to take care of her crying daughter in one of those ways women know so well. And thus the info about the Centaur had to wait. Meanwhile another man of the team - tall, bearded, long nose - offered her a tea.

From a CSL Letter to Malcolm, stuffed out by me

"Who killed Suburbia?"
"Pride" said Superbia.
"When is it really dead?"
"When charity has fled."
"Is there nothing they can do?"
"See that beggar walking through:
"If they will give a penny
 "And he can buy a beer,
"They can go off to Heaven
 "To the Enemy we fear."
We won't gaze on Superbia
 Or devils any more
But the beggar in Suburbia
 And his plight shall be our lore.
At eventide the Capital
 The toil and noise he left
To find a spot in smaller towns
 Where sleeping is no theft
Where friendly people give you food
Where calm the night, though bed be crude.
He got a ticket as a gift
And from his hour made some thrift
But once arrived he paid a tea
 Sun being up but getting low
Wishing his toothache would let be
 But dentists with him make it slow
Pining he loved still to see
Sunset's glow with each tree.

...

Came a girl, brown eyed, blonde
 Brought some food for his cheer
Handsome was she and pretty
Winsome her ways and witty
The belle of any city
 But lived in the town right here.
When o'er apple and cheese-bread
Beggar crossed himself, she said:
"How is a man who's begging
 "And sleeps on stony bed
"Still can believe a fairy story
"Starting wars, many and gory?"
"Now, are you sure," beggar said
"Sleeping on stony bed
"Hurts the faith of monkish creed?
"And who was who started
 "The wars indeed?"
"OK, the Irish have
"Been had badly" - "Yes they have."
"But how about just getting along?
"Doesn't warfare prove you wrong?"
"Now getting along is good indeed,
"Spoilt by ambition, spoilt by greed
"By resenting you spoil it
 "You spoil it by hate
"By the giving and asking
 "Of pardon too late,
"Betimes of law or creed the quarrel
"Living without won't end the war all,
"Commies try, look how they do
 "Rail at crusaders for massacres done
  "At Torquemada for forcing a creed
"And do it more than Catholics do
 "For more than by sword died by gun
  "By men who see men as weeds."

....

"I have to do my job
"As sure as I'm called Job."
The Janitor however took
A cup of tea ere he shook
Shoulder of the beggar sleeping.
"Guv'nor, no use to howl or of weeping
"But if you like a tear of tea
"With milk and sugar that can be."
Beggar truly did no weeping
Slowly waking up from sleeping.
"Now tea sounds good, it is a deal,
"I'll go when I have had this meal."
"No problem I have yet a quarter
"Of an hour before I really ought ter
"Be showing off to early leavers
  "A porch without a stranger here."
  "That is enough! But oh, what cheer:
 "Not all the Janitors so far
   "Have done so to me, only some.
"Enjoy the tea before you leave us.
 "And oh, some biscuits from this jar ..."
   He said because his wife had come
Precisely with the jar of biscuits.
"I know this ain't no beer and whiskey
"But in the morning this is better."
"Agreed." the beggar said and let her
Deal out the biscuits in his hand
 The one that did not hold the cup.

...

"Now who killed Suburbia?"
Said Christ to Superbia.
"And is she really dead?"
"If charity had fled ..."
"But has it now? The beggar
 "Is taking cheese and beer
"With bread after his kippers,
 "Enjoying it with cheer."
"But what about the snubs
 "The beggar had to bear?
"Yes what about them?
 "If you accuse I hear.
"Now read your papers ..." - The devil looked
 But all the ink was blotted out
 Superbia then gave a shout:
"You don't mean it's forgiven??"
"The beggar's even shriven.
"Begone foul Satan, hold thy peace!"
Now Superbia had to cease
His accusations on the town
Which the beggar loved without a frown.
He fled to Hell, the Queen of Heaven
Said "thank you Son, that he is shriven."

Review of a Book I've Not Yet Read

To Owen the Grandson of Owen
Who I hope will be reading this Poem
The Novella your Grandfather wrote*
Was it really no recenter note
And not by yourself but your mentor?
For it seems to be made ex eventu
Like when Virgil wrote Eneid Six
On how Rome and the Punes came to kicks.
But again ... it was read by some Polak
Who thereafter could make the "Seks Misja"?
And the recently unburrowed Muslims
Of Russia have children like that.
For security living as Gollums
But in daylight as blind as a bat.
To the rest who don't know what I'm saying
It is hardly a matter of praying
For deeper and deeper profundity
That would really be quite a redundity.
It's a book Owen Barfield has written
By his grandson in copies now smitten
But still I would leave this a riddle
If I were to leave out here its title
Which is cleped Night Operation
Would you make a Russian translation?

* Referenced in Malcolm Guite on Owen Barfield (nearly at the end of the video)
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vWPaYqMYwbA

10.000 page views, since stats started

USA 1865	Frankrike 1576 1865 3441	Nederländerna 1252 3441 4693
Ryssland 1150 4693 5843	Tyskland x917 5843 6760	Ukraina x416 6760 7176
Storbritannien x248 7176 7424	Lettland x166 7424 7590	10000 -7861 =2139 other countries at least XVIII/XVIIII 2139 114 1019 -570 =449 -342 =107 table I - V: 114 228 342 456 570
Slovenien x157 7590 7747	Kina x114 7747 7861

Forgiveness Has Its Sides.

Susan had as you remember decided to forgive the attempt of rape that George White had committed back in 1949. And as a token of her real forgiveness, she did not take that up with the Gárda when questioned next morning.

"We cannot keep him if we cannot prove he had no criminal intent against you."

"But burglary?"

"You said nothing was missing, right?"

"No."

"Did you see him pick things?"

"No. I just caught him where he should not be."

"And the earlier bad behaviour was not bad enough for you to lodge a complaint against him either?"

"As said, it was ugly, but as I have forgiven him, I do not delve into it."

"He walks, then. Just one moment for you to change your mind."

"No, I won't."

"Then he walks."

And he went down the corridors, turned a corner and after a minute or two came back with - George White.

"He generously said he would not file a complaint against you for violence, since you were a bit hysterical."

They went out. The Gárda man came back and said:

"Now you may walk too."

And Susan left the office. George - as in Georgina this time - was waiting outside.

"Well, I am glad he did not file a complaint," said she, as they started walking. "As I hurt him most, and since this does not count as self-defense, I might have, if not gone to prison, since I 'took him for a burglar' (as if he weren't), at least paid some fines for excess in defense and for the mistake."

"But how could he explain it?"

"He had lived in the house before you. He wanted to get a few old chests out. He tried to ask you in a friendly manner, but after your old history (the nature of which you would not tell) ... well, he got off with a warning too."

"And what did he say about our old history?"

"He slandered you."

"What did he say?"

"That you had had the hots for him and been sudden shy when he tried to go about it."

"That is also a way of putting it. I went out with him, and I liked him in a friendly fashion as long as he showed no too personal interests in me."

And they rounded a corner ... and there he was.

"Ah, my lady, you do hurt me as you say that you know!" (wonderful how much more suave he was when George was around thought Susan). "No, do not scowl! I will admit I went too far, and should not have taken up any kind of contact with you ever again. But ... I was put under pressure."

"Under pressure?" said both girls.

"Well, can I offer you a drink while we talk?"

"Not for me, please!" said Susan.

"Not for me neither," said George (or Georgina as we will call her when George White is along) with some solidarity for Su.

"Then let us sit, next park."

They did. He started explaining. It seems his father was being held hostage, while everyone believed he was away in Israel, which was not true. A hostage by the policeman who had sat in the car when Susan was taken to the judge, a hostage by the shrink Coon, a hostage by the guy who had wanted to bomb Dresden ... and a few others. So, in order to free his father, who by the way would have to swear on the Torah not to speak about it, if and when he was released, he had to do another dirty trick on Susan.

"Namely?" said Susan with a bit sharpness.

"Arrange some oddity about the electric lights. Make you doubt your sanity. Make others doubt it if you wouldn't."

"What kind of oddity is that?"

"Well, turning it up and down and on and off ... especially when you were sleeping, so as to wake you."

"And if I had said it was most certainly not me who turned it on and off?"

"Well, in the eyes of some doctors that would seem a bit odd. They might conclude you did it to yourself out of some kind of attention seeking ..."

"But that would be a lie!"

"And they have always been able to tell lies from truth in your own experience?"

She was silent for a moment before saying: "no."

"You see, what a plan that was."

"Are you going to try carrying it out now?"

"When I told you?" He paused. Then he added with a gleam in his eyes: "that would be pretty diabolical."

Susan looked at him as if he was something the cat had brought in, some dead rodent, which, being no cat, she had no appetite for.

"No, I will not. Father may be killed for me not serving them, but on the day of judgement he shan't have to be ashamed also."

"Something we could do to help him?" Susan asked.

"Na, not likely."

"Are you aware who George here is?"

"You mean Georgina?"

From her he got a frown and fro Su a "don't call her that."

"No, we did not really catch her back in that day, she went to hiding with the tinkers or something. Odd, we usually get to know who most people are."

"Heard of Famous Five?"

"No ... not really."

Then he went on: "oh, you mean the four kids with a dog who were the terror of criminals not to mention of constable .... in the early forties? The ones who snooped around where police would not? Julian, Richard, Anne and a Georgina who insisted on being called George? Plus a Tim who was more of use through his clumsiness than through ... wait, are you that 'George'?"

"I am."

"And your cousins are still alive and well and ... could you do something for my pa, please?"

Forgiveness Is Serious Stuff

"Jack, may I disturb you please?"

"What is the matter? An older French gloss not in the dictionary would be a case for Warnie. Me it's rather 14th C. than le Grand Siècle, you know."

"You remember the night we met?"

"Of course. Some cad had tried to lay his hands on you and you had paddled across the Thames."

"Well, it seems his father wants me to forgive him."

"A father would want that, of course, but what are his arguments?"

"A car key. A handsome sum of money. And a somewhat phoney excuse."

"If you take these things after he wrote you explicitly he was asking you to forgive his son, I would try to forgive him. Or reject the offer."

"But if the excuse is too bad?"

"What excuse is that?"

"The man who tried to rape me grew up among men who thought if you are a young lady and walk out into the woods with someone, you are asking to be raped. How stupid is that?"

"If they are Jewish, it is not quite stupid."

"Right is right and wrong is wrong anywhere, right?"

"Sure, but rape is one thing among us and one thing among people where inviting a rape is the only way a girl has to get toused without getting stoned afterwards."

"Surely Jews don't stone people any more?"

"No, but it seems some reactions die hard with them. A Jewish girl - at least among conservatives - can consider getting raped (by a Jew of course if it is the one she likes), but would consider herself totally disgraced if she were to be seduced."

"Was it like that with Christians too?"

"Not really, since a girl was not stoned for getting seduced. Even married woman could count on some forgiveness and understanding."

"So rape was much worse among us than among Jews, then?"

"Yes ... or depends when and where, some places and times there were unwed maidens who had similar sensibilities to Jewesses. Like the one in St Thomas More's satire. I won't quote it."

"How do you know that?"

"Because I was doing some research on what reactions to seduction are in different times:

.... For to win love in sondry ages ...
... there sondry be usages.

"And in some cultures 'usages' are indeed very sondry."

"So you mean the excuse could be honest?"

"I would not bet on it. But if I took the offer, I would still try to forgive. And it could be, we cannot look into their hearts."

"I suppose you Christians go around forgiving people all the time?"

"Did you before you fell away?"

"No, not offended all that often. Oh, except by family and friends ... usually small stuff ... and there I forgave."

And she cried, because she thought of Edmund again. And - though she did not tell Jack Lewis - of her own sister forgiving her the betrayal.

"I'll go and get a tea for you." And he did. "Think it over when you are alone."

She did that. She considered she had had no untoward meetings with him or anyone else for some time. She considered she was going to visit Narnia in Umbria, where her family had been going. And she decided to take the offer and to try to forgive young Mr White.

Dialogus Temporibus Romanis

Vir malosus et nigris capillis advenit ad iuvenem ...

"Amicule, amicille ... optime te revideo!"

"Num homunculus factus sim? Bene venisti, sed unde?"

"Fui Lugduni proh dolor!"

"Quare proh dolor? Ut audivi optimas habent salsas carnes!"

"Et vina. Sed linguilla! Non est nominillum quod non diminuunt!"

"Ah, ideo illud 'amicille'!"

"Ideo, ut dicis."

"Bone Jacobe Villari, quae alia dicenda sunt de lingua Lugdunensium?"

"Barbarica verba! Romae dicunt: 'avis habet rostrum exiguum', nonne?"

"Mihi videtur illud et recte quidem! Et Lugduni?"

"Lugduni? 'Avicellus habet beccum finum'!"

"Bene capione: avicellus habet beccum finum?"

"Immo: 'avicellus haat beccum finum' si vis. Quare de barbarismatibus Lugdunesibus curas?"

"Quia narras. Praeterea et Romae dicunt interdum 'haat' pro 'habet'."

"Utinam Corsichae fussem! Vel et Sardiniae vel apud Siculus!"

"Insulis a Cartheginensibus captis abhinc septingentos annos ... verum est quod bene grammatice loquuntur."

"Grammatiche!"

"Grammatice."

"Tu quid dicis de grammatica? Immo curas de illud 'avicellus haat beccum exiguum'?"

"Finum, dixisti, non exiguum."

"Vere, vere."

"Mater mea Ripuaria fuit de Treveris. Ic pratu auc theudiscu talu!"

"Debuisses Lugdunum ire!"

"Et tu quidem Corsicam."

"Ubi de grammatichis nullum opus."

"Quot sunt Lugduni?"

"Lugdunu a longinguu fugiunt omnes, desperatum iam de causa!"

"Sed alii restant, salsarii inter alios?"

"Salsarii, inter alius ... laburusi sunt."

"Quod de Corsica nullus est qui diceret."

"Ah, vidi quidem servus patris! Laburusissimi fuerunt! Et sudor! Et honor!"

"Honor? Nonne dicunt 'improbus labor' ...?"

"Post Christum fabrum, qui est qui posset labures spernere? Videndu servus quasi oratiunem feci ..."

"Sed ipse non 'laburasti'?"

"Habui servus, nun?"

"Bene, forsitan ibo Lugdunum."

"Tu melius quam ego, Faramunde!"

Debate on Hypnosis (Incomplete Poem with Prose Comment)

"Where arms are floating in the air,

where fingertips are drawn to touch

each other or the nose, right there

hypnosis is the demon's clutch,"

quoth one. "Oh no," the other said.

"Don't fear that such hypnosis is.

Though reason rests it hath not fled,

but images sail on brisker breeze,

the flesh obeying what mind sees."

"But what," the first said, "if a lie

is in the image, when might flees

to lift an eyelid, as you try

or if a hand, you know not why

is glued to things that have no glue

or weighing down or floating high

beyond your might, although not true

the obstacles that fetter you,

or if some else's word shall gain

the power to make your voice a 'mooh'

hath Hell not shown its pomp again?"

"If demons use what men can use

man's use is not their vile abuse.

Also there is the right to play

and to enact is not astray

unless real thraldom is achieved

or other vile abuses made

in sins from which Our Lord relieved

mankind when on the Cross he bade

for Father's glory, devil's loss

for foes' forgiveness and for Church

for those reborn of ...

...

Comment:

Sometimes it does happen that I do come up with a brighter idea than just writing on a poem. As with asking myself what - if any - the Church has said about hypnosis.

It seems Pius XII pronounced himself twice, 1956 and 1957. A bit late on my scale of where to find reliable Romans. But any way, what he said was:

• may be used for medical purposes
• may be researched scientifically
• may not be used as pastime among laymen or even religious, or clergy.

Seeming to imply there is a danger but there is also a rightful use. And also to imply that science/medicine is the key to it./HGL

Further comment:

It seems the alpha state can be reached, at least approached, without using phrases like "you cannot" (or for autohypnosis "I cannot") "open the eyelids - try - you may stop trying". Or whatever the state implying unnatural impossibilities to the one undergoing someone else's or his own hypnosis.

Insofar there is a possibility of hypnosis without that particular kind of lie.

The problem is I risk becoming an addict to autohypnosis doing these experiments. And I think the ones who want me to try it are actually not my greatest friends. Like people who think I am hot-tempered because their proposal angered me, when it was in fact a bad proposal. Or who think I have an unforgiving side for my not forgiving, not what has been done once in the past but what people are still doing. Or who read an incapacity to forgive merely personal offenses offered by a system into my rejection of that system - like any of and all together of child welfare, compulsory school, psychiatry in its present extent and powers. Or who simply think I need a treat without a woman - though I would be better off married really - and also without chemicals they think or pretend to think I am using when I am not.

How much is prayer, how much is witchcraft, how much is merely depriving me of natural occurrence of alpha state when waking up slowly? Behind my craving for doses of it artificially procured by induction?

And what if a priest simply wanted me to admit this and prayed - and I fell because he prayed? I mean, he could have thought hypnosis or autohypnosis or meditation or yoga or something was behind something else I was doing or saying or writing or believing, or not doing, when in fact that was simply not the case./HGL

Una Storia che dovrebbero avuto scritta nel anno 1968

"Carissima, abbiamo peccato insieme." Il giovane chierico si tornava alla cortegiana.

"Si," diceva lei. "Abbiamo peccato insieme."

"E non possiamo farla penitenza insieme."

"Perchè?"

"Perchè gia sono sottodiacono. Gia ho fatto il passo che non permitte retrogresso. Mi vita è la castità, non è possibile il ritorno al mondo."

"Effectivamente, non possiamo far insieme la penitenza." Faceva una piccola pausa, e dopo: "Tu farài la penitenza ed andrài al cielo. Io peccarò ed andrò al diavolo ..."

"Non andrài al diavolo. Anche tu farài la penitenza."

"Sono peccatrice."

"Non lo sei per natura. Tutto uomo è creato al immàgine di Dio."

"Tutto uomo si. Tutta moglie, non."

"Scioccheze! Tutta moglie è un uomo."

La cortegiana si metò a ridere, e molto. Dopo diceva:

"Un uomo è un uomo ed una moglie è una moglie."

"Mai adori Giesù, al meno a veci?"

"Si, a veci."

"Sai che si chiama 'il figlio del uomo'?"

"Non sapevo. Essente tu chierico, dovrei sapere, e ti credo."

"E sai che su Matre e Vérgine, sempre?"

"Si. Stessi i Musulmani lo sanno."

"Allora, sei di acordo che la Vérgine è una moglie?"

"Si."

"Allora, essente il figlio di una moglie sola, Nostro Signore è 'il Figlio del Uomo'?"

"Ed allora la moglie non è altra che un uomo?"

"La moglie non è catta, né tampoco cane, non è cavalla, né tampoco vacca."

"Né tampoco angelo?"

"Né angelo."

"Eppur mi chiamavi molte veci questa notte 'mi angela'."

"Nel calore del amore dicono molte scioccheze i uomini."

"Forse."

"Di tutta manierea, ciascun uomo e ciascuna moglie è la creatura e la proprietà del Buon Dio."

"Sicuro che non lo siamo del Allà, il Dio dei Mahometani?"

"Perchè? Credevo che fosti la cattiva e schiava di questa gente?"

"Fui. Portanto, le mani sono le stesse en ciascun, e nella scrittura arabica formano le lettere ..." Lei toccava la mano destra del chierico, al dorso della mano e non la palma, avendo chiusato la pollice en un quasi occhio col indice, e comminciando per il digito minimo. "Aalif, Laam, Laam, Haa" e formava la ultima lettera con indice e pollice del chierico. Dopo diceva: "Cioè: Allà."

"Mai i Christiani che parlano Arabe acnhe egli chiamano Allà al vero Buon Dio."

"Non sapevo."

"Purtanto, liberata dai Turchi fosti a Malta."

"Si. Ti ricordo bene."

"Ed a Malta tutti sono Christiani, tutti parlano Arabe - stesso scrivendolo en lettere latine - e tutti chiamavano il Buon Dio 'Allà'."

"Mai il Arabe è la lengua sacrata dei Mahometani."

"Certo."

"Como il Latino lo è di noi Christiani."

"Certo, al meno del rito latino."

"È un poco difficile trovare - como si chiama Dio en Latino? - nella mano, non?"

"Dio si chiama Deus en Latino."

"È quasi Portuguese."

"Quasi."

"Non trovi Deus nella mano."

"Certo non, mai trovo 'omo Dei' nella faccia."

"Dove?"

"Resta tranquilla." Tracciava un cerculo cerca il occhio destro di su cortegiana, dicendo "o", dopo secquiva le sopracciglia dicendo "emme", dopo un altro cerculo cerca il occhio sinestro, ridicendo "o". "O-emme-o, omo."

"Cioè uomo?"

"Si." Dopo secquiva il naso, al dorso ed all'ala destra, dicendo "di". Dopo il spazio cerca le narici, dicendo "e". Dopo lalinea della bocca chiusa, dicendo "i". Dopo diceva: "di - e - i, Dei." Cio fu la ultima vece che la toccava al corpo.

"Omo Dei? Mai dicisti che Dio en latino è Deus."

"Si, mai 'del Dio' si dice 'Dei'. Si chiama un genitivo."

"È complicata lingua, questo Latino?"

Rideva il chierico. "Si, un poco."

"Allora il Buon Dio mi ha scritto sui occhi, sul naso e sulla bocca chiusa che sono sua?"

"Si. Stesso con bocca aperta puoi significare un dovere. 'Omo Deo ...' apri la bocca per comunicare o per laudare. 'Deo' è como 'a Dio'."

"E chè vuole ch'io faccia?"

"Penitenza per il nostro peccato. Dovi cessare dal essere corteggiana."

"E como posso allora vivere? Nessun uomo mi prendrà, e tu non puoi, gia che gia sei sottodiacono."

"Se cerchi una soluzione per vivere una vita christiana, il Buon Dio darà."

"Allora cerco."

Quasi como post scriptum.

La storia non è finita. Avevano fatto un bambino. Si chiamava Giovanni Omodei. Essente nato fuora matrimonio non poteva essere stesso chierico como su patre. Mai fu un uomo divoto e pietoso. Nella famiglia che fondava saranno due cardinali. Più tarde hanno creduto - gia che non era tanto commune omettere il hacca en "homo Dei" - che Omodei era dialettale per Amadei, di un plurale di Amadeo. È vero che il uomo di Dio - e ciascun uomo è di Dio - è appelato ad amare Dio.

Questo non è una storia che trovevo nei libbri, né che mi hanno racontata, mai è una congettura sopra il origine della famiglia Omodei. Questa ha realmente esistato, è furono realmente due cardinali. E nel Medio Evo fu realmente la moda di tracciare nella faccia umana il "omo Dei" - mai lo restante è la mia invenzione.

È un poco anche per ringraziare Umberto Eco, che mi ha provocato alla conversione cattólica per il libbro Nel Nome della Rosa. Prima di leggerlo avevo creduto che le vittime dell'Inquisizione furono Christiani. Mai furono Albighesi e Valdesi eccetera. Nessuna eresia delle enumerate nel libbro mi sembrava Christianesimo coretto. Né mi sembra oggi.

Hans-Georg Lundahl
Bibblioteca pubblica d'Informazione
Giorgio Pompidou, Parigi
Giorno di Santa Giulietta
Trenta di Luglio, Due-Mila-Dodici.

George, Meet George!

George turned back. Susan would not yet be in bed, and she did not want to get out to the tent without a torch.

Oddly enough, as she was watching Susan's house across the square, in went a man who had a key.

"Susan never told me she had an acquaintance like that." And she did not find it very likely that Susan was hiding anything from her. So, probably this man had got the key in a wrongful way - unless it was merely a janitor. But was that likely when Susan rented the house?

Fortunately the balcony window was still open. George climbed up into the tree - not caring if people saw it or even preferring they did, since she was not the burglar - and let herself fall onto the balcony.

"Are you there Su? Are you all right?"

"Yes! Why?"

"There is a man who has a key, he entered here."

Susan came out of the bedroom. She was across the dining room.

"Where is he?"

"Have you got my torch?"

"I have. Here."

She lighted, but there was no man to be seen.

"Let's search the house together!"

They went downstairs, and found the staircase empty. Had they heard something? Nothing there either. Down the cellar? Well, there was one man huddling down there. "Sorry, I'm homeless!" he said in a muffled voice.

"How did you get into the cellar?" asked Susan.

"Door was open."

"You lie. I checked it just before George went away."

An advantage of living in detached houses is that every one knows it is his or her responsibility to check the cellar door, at least there are no neighbours who could do it as well as you can. And if you want to let some homeless guy in, you can do that too, since you need ask no neighbour for permission, you are the only one taking a risk, and you estimate if it is safe for you or not. In a case someone clearly lies, it is not.

"George? You have a man there?"

"He's got a gun too. Lie down, face to floor."

And the man lay down. "George, sit on him, we'll tie him up."

George preferred putting a foot on the neck. Susan got out and checked for ropes. She was not long, some electric cables not used would do well around his hands and feet. The torch was placed on the floor. She approached and thought there was something familiar with him. Once she had tied his hands and feet together she said: "George, you may take your foot off his neck."

She did so, they rolled him over and the surprise was double.

"Why, you're a girl! I'd have freed myself if I had known!"

"But you didn't know."

Meanwhile Susan was gasping too. "Mr ... White, right?"

He answered nothing.

"George, this is the man who would have raped me on that island in the Thames!"

People were ringing the bell furiously above. As grimly as George looked on the man, that was his luck.

"Alright, I'll open, neighbours!" And before going to fetch the key she asked: "What's your name, by the way?"

"My name is George."

Guffaw. Susan thought it odd her best friend alive and one of her worst enemies should have the same name. And George thought it odd she had the same name as this dishonest and despicable man.

"I have the extra key in the right pocket."

George digged it out of there, handed it to Susan, and she went up and opened to a worried crowd of Irish neighbours.

"It's alright, folks. We just caught a burglar."

They came down and witnessed the catch. The Gárda was called. They told the girls: "Well done, young ladies, now we take care of him."

Išvada

Gerajam gykui reikia žinoti Tolkyno ir Jurgio Luko. Aš pusgykas žinau Tolkyno. Bet Tolkynas nebuvo gykas. Nera gyko futbolininkas, nera gyko kavalerijos karininkas. Net jei išrado kalbų./HGL

(su nedidele pagalba iš Google Translate)

Sorcery Worketh Not

Midnight approached as the black cavern in the hillside was all that was not bathed in the silver light of the full moon. A pillar protruded on each side in front of the cave.

A man came along and started some funny preparations. Funny as in weird, not as in amusing really. George White had made up his black mind. He was going to do magic. Susan was going to be his.

The hairlock was there. The diverse magic items by which he was goin to invoke the dark forces were there. He knew the books of Kabbalah and similar lore. Now was the time.

He started drawing a diagram with chalk on the granite floor. One line, a corner, another line … the diagram was soon complete. He shouted out for triumph :

 « Susan, you'll be mine after all ! »

As he turned down again to draw the signs in the corners, a foot came out behind the pillar to the right. It was the foot that had kept him down in Dublin. Another one stepped out, trod on the diagram, smudged a corner. He looked up at Georgina. She waited until she had his eyes facing hers.

« Why are you so eager to damn your soul for Susan, when you can have me with no magic at all ? »

« What … what did you say, Georgina ? »

« I somehow knew I'd regret listening to that name, George. Came a warlock, called me Georgina, and hey presto, I'm … well, I'm an idiot. 

« Don't touch me yet ! You will abjure the devil and all his works and all his pomps before we are wed, or it's off. »

George White stared at her, gasped for a moment, then helped her efface the diagram.

« Guess I've been an idiot for most of my life. But I do guess I owe you that too. »

There was not a line left, just some chalk smudge, but he bowed down and swept as much off with his hand as he could. And a smile cracked across the face of Georgina.

« For how long were you standing there ? »

« Well, I had prayed a rosary all over three times before you arrived. »

« How long is that then ? »

« Ah, you won't know unless you learn to pray the rosary. »

« You might teach me ? »

« Yes, but not here and not now . » Then Georgina called back into the cave : « Julian, Dick, get out and see him burn the hairlock. »

They came out. Ann was not there, she would have thought this adventure even scarier than those she had when younger. Tim, of course was no more. But the three remaining of the Famous Five watched the hairlock take fire, burn with a flame, curdle up into burnt hair which is no longer hair. That was not the only reason : they also knew how he might have interpreted Georgina being there alone with him, so they took no risk about that.

A Letter from Remorseful Father of a Son Gone Bad

At All Hallows, Susan received a letter. It was from one Simon White "Esq." Her father who read Chesterton said these letters meant absolutely nothing, therein differing from squire which was a title lesser than knight and meant serving a knight with things like cleaning his arms or saddling his horse. Of course that is in United Kingdom, in US it is a kind of lawyer - he had added. She missed him. She missed Peter and Edmund. And of course she missed Lucy.

Most Honourable Miss Pevensie!

First of all, I would like to offer, somewhat late, my condoleances for your deceased family. I know many men and women who have lost theirs recently. Some have bourne it with courage like you ["hullo," thought Susan, "what does he know about that?"], others not.

But a greater grief to me than learning of yours was learning of the bad behaviour, indeed criminal folly of my son towards you.

He has been raised among some rude young men, who, when alone with a girl who knew they would be alone together, would think of that as an invitation to take advantage of her. ["Oh, that guy!" thought Susan.]

My son's head had a bump for a week, he told a lie about it, I just recently found out that that lie was a lie, so he had to tell me the real story.

Believe me, he told it with shame and remorse ["before his father he would have been an idiot not to"] and promised me never ever again to attempt such a thing towards you. I ask you, if at all possible, to forgive him.

Whether you do so or not, after what he tried to do to you, what I have to offer seems the very least I can do. Do not hesitate to contact me, if you should want some other service. I would be glad to wash away part of my son's guilt, and he promised he would do the same if ever you meet again.

The key is to a car which can be got at ... Car Service. The sum on the check is not so great ["we'll see about that" said Susan, as she viewed the five thousand pounds she said: "it's a small fortune"] but for the moment it was all I could do.

Do not hesitate to contact me later, should you need anything or want anything. Within reasonable limits of course.

Yours respectfully,
Simon White Esq.

She replied with some simplicity that Mr White really had not done much, and that she was for letting bygones be bygones. She thanked for the car and for the sum, which she considered handsome.

A Talk about Tolkien

"Have you heard that Tollers has published the Lord of the Rings, Audo?" This was the first time Su called Audoin Audo. And since that was the kind of familiarity she took, Audo would be sticking with that - he did not seem to mind.

"Of course. He started writing about that Sauron character and his pious adversaries in Numenor after hearing my story. Then after I had made a few abjurations in Church, he felt it was unconsiderate of him to use my story as such since it might land me into trouble with the Church."

"So then he wrote something else about that ... "

"Yes, about the horror who started out as a 'Lord of gifts', about the man or god like creature with technical solutions for everything - who contested the orthodox religion, who instituted depraved mystery cults, who finally after getting authorisation from the King started burning people to death as a sacrifice to ... another horror, as whose incarnation he posed."

"So, do you think what's in those books really happened?"

"Of course not. I am not really sure what I and pa experienced really happened, and there are some ways it theoretically could have happened according to some people which I have sworn on the Gospel not to believe. For instance, I do not believe that pa and I were Elendil and Herendil in a previous life. I do not believe we have lived previous lifetimes."

"So where did Tolkien get this story from?"

"He invented it. Just because Jack got the Narnia books so far published from Professor Kirke and much of it from you and your siblings, it does not mean every author gets every story from a true witness source."

"So, Numenor was part of your and your father's dream experience, it contained a kind of warning against the Antichrist, especially against how seductive he could be and how manipulative of people who refuse to be considered stupid because they are faithful ..." Susan paused, and resumed: "and since Tollers could not use that dream without hurting your standing with the Church ..."

"He wrote another story about it, with Numenor already sunken like the great Babylon was already fallen, and it ends in a kind of prehistoric Harmageddon, but only because he liked the morality of my dream or whatever it was, and wanted to write something on that moral theme."

"Could you read Namarië? I mean you did know Quenya 'back in Númenor'?"

"Some of it, but Tollers, once having decided not to use my story as such, started changing whatever he took from it according to his taste in either morality or - in this case - linguistics."

"So reading the Quenya of Lord of the Rings is like ..."

"Reading Braid Scots, or for a Portuguese to read Spanish or for a Dane to read Swedish."

"Don't you resent that?"

"Why? It means it is no more my story, it is as such not a story gotten through any esoteric experience, and it means I am again free to enjoy it as if I had never been upbraided by the Church for it. I did ask my confessor as soon as the Fellowship was published."

"Has he falsified your history?"

"Since I have been suspect of having received as a live experience it through demons, I would rather say he has rescued it from Hell. A made up story is better than one gotten from demons, any day."

[This author here - Hans-Georg Lundahl by the way - might like to make clear that he is in a position like John Ronald Reuel Tolkien's when writing, not in a position like Audoin Errol's if he had written the story. Still less in the position of that evil sham "lord of gifts" who poisoned every gift he gave with devil worship.]

Susan is Free, So are the Policemen

"Take us down!" The two policemen were struggling to get loose of the branches, but these were locked tight around them.

"I cannot," said Susan.

"We will not be trying to take you to asylum if you only take us down!"

"Nice, but as said I cannot. Seems the trees had a will of their own."

And on they went for hours and hours, sometimes stopping silent because their throats were dry. Most of the time Susan ignored them. She was freezing.

In the morning dawn was beginning to rise in the east. First it was slightly grey, then a bit of rose, soon it was even red. Then rose the sun. She looked over there, then on the road under the hill, and for a moment it looked like a lion, like Aslan had looked in Narnia. "Aslan!" she smiled. Inside her heart she heard him say "In this world I have another name." Then round the corner came walking a priest in cassock. "He's carrying the sacrament, he's carrying you my Lord!" she said. Which was true. He had spent the last hours with a dying parishioner. And he carried the sacrament in his cassock.

The priest was rather old, and walking slowly, but when he arrived he looked up and asked: "what is this?"

"The trees took us up in the branches and won't let us down!" bellowed the policeman.

"Can't have that." The priest started out for an exorcism, but he did not have to, as soon as he had said "In nomine + Patris et + Filii et + Spiritus Sancti" the trees obeyed his will and gently put the policemen down. He continued with a shorter exorcism, and the branches waved slightly in the wind as if the beech trees were enjoying it.

"And what were you up to when they did so?"

They pointed at Susan who was kneeling before the priest and awaiting a blessing. "We were taking this lady to asylum."

"Why?"

"Seems she is mad."

"Yes, believes in walking trees and things like that ..."

"And if you get her and tell them you had to wait a few hours because you were caught in trees?"

The two policemen looked at each other. They decided the less they said about this story the better. They did not look as if they were eager to take another try on Susan.

The priest looked at Susan who was waiting to kiss his hand a get a blessing. He blessed her. Then she said to the policemen: "she does not seem mad to me. You may have got the instructions wrong or the instructions may have been wrong to start with."

They went off. The priest asked Susan to accompany him to the Church in Warwick. It was called St Mary Immaculate.

"Now, you may wonder why I took that elfish thing so lightly, but ... you see, I had a parishioner who was suspect of believing he was reincarnated from someone else. He abjured that of course, but he gave a few indications that if that was not the case, he and his father had been doing some time travel. I cannot make out if their final destination was Nod East of Eden or if Atlantis had a separate and smaller flood, but ... he's honest and it seems a certain Lowdham gave independent evidence about the story."

"Time travel back to the flood or Atlantis? Sounds a bit exotic?"

"It seems you had some similar experience?"

"Not quite time travel, but in a way, yes. I came twice to another world, whatever its ontological status, whether it was another creation of God or a kind of vision. For me it was a year between the visits, but for people there it was a thousand years or more."

"I think you will enjoy the company of Mr. Errol."

They went on. As Susan and the priest walked by the Avon in the Mill Garden, three maidens rose up from it, very watery in appearance. As Susan had lived very long in Narnia, she knew they were Naiads. And they started clapping their hands, it sounded like when dolphins clap their forefins.

For a moment she wondered if they were honouring her as Queen of Naiads and "Narnian creatures" even here, but then she remembred she was walking by a priest and that he was keeping the Blessed Sacrament which he had been giving to a dying person the night before.

She bowed down before the priest and asked him "do you think the River Maidens want a Sacramental blessing too?"

And the priest took forth the little tin box in which he carried the Creator of Heaven and Earth, who took Manhood through the Virgin and who conquered Death on the Cross, and he lifted it high up to start a cruciform blessing.

And Susan bent down on her knees, and the Naiads bent themselves down to the waist before the priest or rather before God whom he was holding, and the priest made the sign of the cross over them, and the Naiads signed themselves, and then clapped hands again, and then dove down.

And he made another blessing over Susan as well. She also signed herself.

And I suppose certain readers would like to know whether the Naiads signed themselves from the left to the right or from the right to the left, but Susan did not tell.

Wedding in Cornwall

Audoin decided he wanted to accept the offer from Kirrin Island. And Susan of course had nothing against it.

In St Mary Immaculate three sundays on a row the announcement was made that on Saturday 31st of July Audoin Errol would marry Susan Pevensie in the Our Lady of the Seven Sorrows chapel in a little village on the coast of Cornwall.

And it was a beautiful wedding. Susan was a bride in white, Audoin had a white tail suit and bow tie. The choir was small but very musical, but above all, in that day and moment, two lonesome people (as Audoin was and as Susan had become after the railway accident) said farewell for ever to loneliness and to certain hardships that go along with it. They took Our Lord's Body after vowing fidelity, and they prayed. After the wedding the priest also placed the brown scapular on Susan's shoulders and on Audoin's.

While the other went off to the feast, Audoin and Susan and the priest read the Vespers, Compline and Matins of the Little Office of Our Lady, than they went on to join the others. The priest gave them a dispensation to skip Matins this time.

George announced she was going to marry Mr White. Yes, the very same guy who had tried to ravish Susan and who had also helped her out of Mental Hospital.

"But he's Jewish?"

"Well, he is preparing for baptism."

"Oh, good for you."

Rose showed her a girl four years old now. "This is the girl you helped to save, back then. She is called Susan, obviously."

"And what about her father?"

"Well, the principal did not marry me, and I don't think I would have married him after he proposed abortion. But Nobby's cousin took extra good care of me - here he is by the way ..."

And there came a somewhat darker copy - and younger too - of Nobby out behind the corner of the inn, Susan had not noticed him in Church. He carried a boy on his arm. And another one toddled behind. "It is an honour for us to be present when she who saved our baby is getting married. I am Bobby and these are Peter and Paul."

"And I am pleased to meet you. Glad Rose made a good party."

"So am I," said Audoin.

A telegram of congratulations was also arriving from Setúbal in Portugal. Roy Campbell had moved there.

The port - which was a gift from Roy and his wife - was getting emptied in the glasses and they went in to the feast.

George's cousin Dick was the cook - and in Cornwall seafood was plenty. Flanders and Swann entertained at the piano. Dancing was done till late at night. Then people noticed that Susan and Audoin were gone. Off to Kirrin Island.

Just to make sure they were in the right place, a few girls from the tinker camp went on to the island too and went to the little hut. At some distance they sang a song which Donald Swann had composed, not quite the style of his comic songs with Flanders, but rather more romantic, and when Susan and Audoin showed their faces behind a linen sheet in the window, they clamoured for her garter.

She threw it out of the window, and the girl who caught the garter was sure to be married during the year. But then Susan and Audoin shut the shutters and the gipsy girls pretended to be disappointed - then went roaming off to the shore, left a few gifts, including not a little food, and Rose had given them Lucy's essay note book to leave Susan as a farewell gift from her, so they left that too and they took the boat and went back to the main land. It was a calm summer evening and full moon and it could be done without danger.

In the morning Susan and Audoin woke up late and after dressing, praying the minor hours of the Little Office of Our Lady - together and alone for the first time - and taking a cup of tea walked down the cliffs to the beach and thankfully noted the gifts of the giggling gipsy girls. Susan was glad to see the notebook again. And Audoin was curious about it too.

And How was Mental Hospital?

Susan was sitting in a chair when she got company. A fat man with a thick neck.

"My name is Jack."

"Nice to meet you."

"Jack the Ripper."

"Isn't he dead?"

"I'm Jack the Ripper in a new reincarnation."

"Whatever ..."

"I am here because I killed my fiancée and then cooked and ate her ..." (I will not print the word he used, but this shocked Susan).

"Don't be gross!"

"But I really did that."

"Why have they not hung you yet, then?"

The fat man started shouting:

"Boohoo, she wants to hang me ..."

Guards rushed to them, and surrounded her:

"Don't speak to him like that."

"Humour him."

"He's dangerous."

"He killed and ate his fiancée."

Susan looked around and then asked:

"If that is the case, why has he not been hung?"

They looked like grownups trying to calm a child in a tantrum, but they were not adressing the fat man:

"Now calm down."

"We all have condemning and judgemental moments."

"But we must not let that get the better of us."

"You see, he is ill, very ill. That is why he killed and ate his fiancée."

"To me that seems just like being evil."

"Ah, don't use that word! We do not use it here."

"And if I do use it? Evil, evil, evil ... that man is evil."

They drew closer.

"We'll have to treat you."

"No! Not her!" said a voice she knew. It was the man who had tried to rape her on that outing in the Thames. The man whose father was Simon White. "Not her, I know her. I will talk to her."

They withdrew a few yards, the fat man who thought he was an incarnation of Jack the Ripper was gone, and there was her nearly ravisher. "Sit down, you don't need to talk to me. And you don't need to be afraid of me either."

She did sit down again.

"Jack the Ripper, as we call him, is ill. So are you. Even worse than he. He thinks he is an incarnation of Jack the Ripper. You think you ARE the heroine of a children's story, Susan Pevensie gone to Narnia with her siblings. That is worse."

She said nothing.

"However, I owe you one. This once I will help you out. If you come back, I might remember that oar on my head."

"You deserved it."

"We don't use that word."

She realised the horrible truth that psychiatry was as hard a prison as any, or worse, but dealing with people not according to their merits and demerits, but is only concerned with how bad a doctor thinks one is. She shuddered. She "thought" she was Susan Pevensie, even if she had not actually said so. That made her more "ill" than a man who thought of himself merely as a reincarnation of Jack the Ripper, even if he acted accordingly.

"Now, here is how we do it ..."

The man had knowledge of a part of nurse Cecily's life that might land her as a patient there. So he had no problem doing some extortion to get her along with his plan. She and Susan exchanged clothes, she was locked up in a padded cell, Susan sat wearing her clothes and speaking in a friendly way to the patients until the evening came. She went out in company with Mr White.

"Be careful, and soon Cecily will be free and you will be on the run. Remember."

She paid the bus ticket with money in Cecily's hand bag. When she was gone, safe distance from the hospital, she started crying. If Mr. White had not been a criminal who had wronged her and if Cecily (the sweet girl) had not had some foible unknown to others which he could use to lock her up as a patient, then she, Susan, would still have been there. And not had any idea whatsoever of how she could get out from company like the "reincarnation of Jack the Ripper" or the people who thought herself about as ill or worse than he. She was glad she had not eaten, or she would have been sick.

Mr. Errol Proposes

"I can't believe you shot two policemen in the arms - shoulder and elbow's inside - like that. Archery like that is rare."

"I might have been better back then, or it may have been a moment of grace."

"There are some targets set up behind my house, and the distance would be daunting to a beginner."

Susan picked up her ears: " .. and bows and arrows?"

"Two bows, an abundance of arrows, try not to hit my arms, please."

"I will take the request into consideration."

Hundred and fifty feet to the targets was the distance. Two targets. Susan stood to the right, Audoin to the left. "Ladies first," said he. Susan put an arrow straight into the bull's eye of the right target. Audoin got his arrow onto the right target next to hers.

"You did that on purpose!"

"Ah no, I just missed my target."

"You just pretend to. Why, I think you are flirting with me!"

"Nonsense, I will try to do better next time."

Susan now got her arrow into the bull's eye of the left target and said "sorry". Audoin got his next to hers again, and as he had promised it was in his own target. Susan was straight after with an arrow between the two. Audoin put one between the two of the right hand target. A few arrows later on each side the bulls eyes looked like a pair of hedgehogs.

"If you are that good with bow and arrows, you ought to have children."

"Why?" Susan smiled blithely because the comment surprised her.

"Sicut sagitte in manu potentis, ita filii excussorum.

Beatus qui impleuit desiderium suum ex ipsis,

Non confundetur cum loquetur inimicis suis in porta."

"Consider my Latin to be non-existent. This means?"

"'As arrows in the hand of the mighty, thus are the children of the vanquished. Blessed who hath fulfilled his - or her - desire for them, he shall not be confounded when speaking to his enemies in court.' Basically. 'In porta' means 'at the city gates', because in old Israel city gates looked a bit like the lodge of a college in Oxford, and court proceedings were conducted in them."

"There is the slight problem of my knowing no man, and the Virgin Birth was once only. Mother and maiden was never none but she, remember."

"If lack of husband is all there is to that, I would be happy to change the situation. May I?"

She looked at the man, ten years older than herself for some moments. He did not flinch from the scrutiny, so she laughed out loud and said: "You may." Whereupon she gave him the hand, as for getting on the dance floor. They walked back hand in hand.

Four Bad Men Discussing Susan

Four men were discussing in some kind of club or lodge.

"What is Narnia?"

"According to my patient, it is all a game they made up when smaller."

"So what made Professor Kirke and Miss Plummer play along with it then?"

"That is why I said 'according to my patient' - because, the other patient, her sister, seems not to agree. Do you know what she said? 'It is real, and that is all I can tell you' she said."

"With that attitude she should have been staying longer?"

Now another man joined the conversation. One Susan knew somewhat well since yesterday night. The one who had envied the Dresden bombers, who had wanted to be one of the pilots of the bomb plane over Dresden. The fourth she knew also, it was the one who had plagiarised C. S. Lewis' story about captives giving themselves up to him, reusing it far less realistically of the newer war of 40-45. The one who had tried to ravish Susan. But best of all Susan knew the second of the two speakers: it was her thereapist. A married man and too moral to have affairs with her, though not too moral to push her into flirting on dances. A man who had daughters her own age. Nevertheless, as he had shown about Lucy: a traitor. A man who believed in betraying people for their own good. Susan could have described him on the spot if you had asked her: a kind, funny, generous man, five years younger than Professor Kirke, stodgy, round-faced, a few white hairs in the general brown curls, a somewhat big nose. A man named Nathan Coon, a doctor of medicine, specialised in psychiatry. Only the first speaker she did not know yet. He was a police officer and he was short and thin. He was - in their secretive context - a living idol to the other three, they were less afraid to displease God (if they were not downright atheists) than to displease him or even just not quite live up to his expectations. But Susan's inopportune suitor from yesterday, the man so eager to kill "Nazis" even if civilians, opened his mouth:

"It was impossible to keep Lucy. Her brother had a position inthe army, he was popular, he made a whole platoon excited about getting Lucy loose from the loony-bin!"

"And there was no military discipline to deal with him?"

"If Lucy was released, as she was, he agreed with his captain to take a longer vacation, despite the leave he had aleready enjoyed when going to the estate of the Ketterley-Kirke's. He had briefly been in military prison, but the platoon threatened mutiny to get him out."

Susan's other heavyhanded suitor said: "We'll have to deal with him."

The thin man said in a very dry and curt voice: "We did."

"What do you mean?" said the therapist. "You have not put him in mental care, or I would have known."

"He's dead."

"The traincrash in Sevenoaks tonight?" He had paid little attention to the news in the radio. But he did know that train crashes kill people.

"Exactly."

"How do you know it was us?"

"Come on! You do not expect a thing like that from British Railways, if they have accidents they are arranged right?"

"Not even British Railways is fool proof."

"No, it is not," snapped the small one.

"You know who did it?"

"Of course not! I cannot say for certain even whether it was strictly speaking us or a rival faction.

"Then why so sure the accident was no accident?"

"Enough! I see you are a sceptic, Nathan. But you have a patient to see, her family is dead, she is mourning. Now is the time to get at her if we are to get to the bottom of the 'two battles of Beruna' that she won without killing non-combatants, remember?"

Dr Coon knew better than to contradict, he said farewell to the other three and went off. Once he was gone the short man continued, musing: "There are no accidents. Our enemy once said: 'not one sparrow falleth to the ground least it be the will of the father'. If it is not humanly us, it must have been the Almighty."

He said the last word with a certain shudder, all three went silent for a minute. As he had quoted the Sermon of the Mount as coming from what he called "our enemy" we can be certain none of the four were Christians, at least not believing and practising ones.

Despenalizar las relaciones sexuales entre adolescentes?

1) La Marcha de los indignados, 2) Carlismo de izquierda comunismo o no?, 3) Uno como otro no es malo como solución en algunos casos ..., 4) Respuesta de un Carlista sobre Propriedad Privada y Montejurra '76, 5) Despenalizar las relaciones sexuales entre adolescentes?, 6) Enfrente a un defensor de maraconías ..., 7) Cual fue la ley anterior a 1929?, 8) Quienes fueron los enemigos de los gitanos?, 9) Cuando Matteotti fue matado, Mussolini a condenado a los asesinos ...., 10) Mercado, estudios y otras cosas (entre carlistas en FB), 11) La tradición carlista como yo - un sueco - la conozco y honro., 12) A transmeter a Esteban Morillo, 13) Hé leido que el video le inocenta!, 14) Contra el Maniqueismo

En el matrimonio, cuando una o los dos de los casados son adolescentes espera que ne sea penalizado! La edad canónica es 12 para la mujer, 14 para el marido. Es por el menos dudoso si le Iglesia pudía, durante el XX sieglo alzar la edad canónica de dos años por cada uno de los dos sexos. Porqué es cierto que no pudía estar en error la Iglesia antes. Y porqué una ley universal de la Iglesia tiene que ser fundada en la natura humana y no en circunstancias de hoy y de ayer en los paises occidentales y industrializados.

En la sodomía fuese mejor penalizar no solo cuando uno o los dos son adolescentes, peró cuando los dos son grandes también.

Fuera del matrimonio, peró entre dos personas de dos sexos, es a distinguir:

• cuando la vírgen, adolescente o no, está seducida por un hombre quien puede casarse con ella, y la seducida o su padre quiere que él repara el daño casandose con ella, y él consiente, no tiene que ser penalizado;
• cuando el hombre no quiere casarse con la seducida quién fue virgen antes de ser seducida, o cuando es un hombre que no puede casarla porqué es sacerdote o casado con otra peró la vírgen no lo sabía, y la seducida o su padre lo quiere, tiene que ser penalizado, hasta por la muerte para un laico (ver el Alcalde de Zalamea) o la laicisación para un sacerdote;
• cuando está seguro que la vírgen y su padre son contientos con la dote y el culpable paga, por ejemplo cuando sabía que está un casado con otra o sacerdote no tiene que ser penalizado por el estado, peró un sacerdote puede que ser laicisado (si eso corresponde a la vieja ley canónica) por la Iglesia;
• cuando no quiere mismo pagar tiene que ser penalizado;
• cuando la seducida ya no fue vírgen, y no hubo violació, no hay crímen;
• abortamiente tiene que ser repenalizado también, en este caso: cárcel por una jóven y muerte por una grande que aborta y muerte por el doctor quien aborta (al menos que ciertas circunstancias rinden el crímen más excusable, por ejemplo cuando fue un verdadero riesgo para la vida del madre, peró eso tampoco sin pena), no hay que dejar un pseudo derecho a hacer y pues matar niños.

Eso es - volver a la legislación bajo los Reyes Católicos y bajo Felipe II.

Este paquete preso en globo no es malo. Peró solo despenalizar las relaciones sexuales con adolescentes y no volver a la vieja y buena legislación en otras cosas fuese muy malo. Es cosa mala a penalizar más el matrimonio que la fornicación por ejemplo. O permeter abortamiento peró no matrimonio por ejemplo.

Hans-Georg Lundahl
Biblioteca Georges Pompidou
París
El 5-VII-2012

Speaking to Dr Watson

After agreeing with her confessor she would ask medical though not psychiatric advice, Susan went to visit a Dr Watson living in Baker Street - in the room his father had rented along with Sherlock Holmes back in last century, after the Afghanistan War. They talked a bit to make sure they understood what the case was about, they ruled out common causes of hallucination like fever or drunkenness. Then she asked if she could have been hypnotised.

"If you were hypnotised by someone," said Dr Watson, "that means you would feel as if you awoke just the moment after getting into trance."

"Right. But would it explain living for years in a place, or even days, and then being sure from everyone else and everything else that it really was the next moment?"

"No. A minor epileptic seizure might do that."

"I am not epileptic. I have never woken up with saliva from my mouth lying on the floor."

"Oh, that is a major seizure. A minor seizure is not like that."

"And you think four persons would have the same epileptic seizures?"

"At the same moment, no. How do we know it was at the same moment?"

"We all got into the wardrobe when avoiding Mrs Macready."

"And you all came out of it ... besides four minor epileptic seizures all of them when entering a wardrobe. A bit thick."

"And it cannot be schizophrenia giving false memories? I mean that is what they wannted to treat Lucy and later me for?"

"Oh, no. Hallucinations from schizophrenia - I suppose that is what you mean by false memories - do occur more and more often, and during periods of emotional stress. You said that all the years you were on the run, you never 'were in Narnia' at all? Only remembered having been previously?"

"Absolutely."

"And that previously was during those two occasions: the wardrobe occasion in 1940, the railway station in 1941?"

"That's for me and Peter. Lucy and Edmund came back once more."

"You know that?"

"I read the essay Lucy wrote about some side issues when she, Ed and Eustace were telling the story to Peter, Professor Kirke and Polly."

"No, there is no known mental illness on record that would give such symptoms."

"Then I am sane?"

"And the others were too, unless we find it was over excitement to try to get to Narnia actively for the Narnian spook."

"Lucy didn't try. She only went along with the others, and she talked to father and mother on the train to Bristol, and then the train back."

"But if I really am not mentally ill, which I don't find all that likely anyway, that means something supernatural happened."

"So?"

"Aren't scientists supposed to leave out the supernatural in all explanations?"

"No, only in standard theoretic explanations. And as far as the science is concerned. Medicine deals with bacteria. It doesn't take sides in the further debate whether angels and demons influence bacteria."

Susan looked a bit attentive.

"You see, if we want to do something about the divine and diabolic factors involved in either healing or someone getting ill, you do not go to a doctor. That is why doctors can very safely leave all that out. There are priests - of diverse priesthoods - dealing with that. But first doctors do what we can about bacteria."

"So you mean you do not exclude that devils can bring on sickness, say by favouring bacteria, or that angels and God himself can kill bacteria off with no desinfectants or antibiotics, you just leave that to another profession like a Catholic priest in case it is a Catholic patient."

"A Catholic priest or a Catholic pilgrimage with miraculous healings. We make sure all that can be made by our rationality of medicine is applied first, but once that is done we don't stop them from going to a pilgrimage to Lourdes."

"Are people healed there?"

"Doctors there are well paid and loose their jobs if admitting one miracle. Why would some of them lie about unexplained - scientifically that is, leaving theological explanations to the Church - and sometimes unexplainable healings, unless they had seen them?"

"Examples?"

"Do you know what tubercular peritonitis is?"

"A bit, ma was a midwife. All through my childhood we might wake up for a telephone call even in the night and she would have to get and deliver a baby. Now, some cases of tubercular peritonitis are related to female genitalia. So, she has heard of it, since a relative of one she delivered a baby for died in it. She never described what it was very clearly, except that it would make us throw up if she did."

"I bet she was pretty right on that one." Dr Watson gave Susan an opened example of an old page of the Boston Medical and Surgical Journal, September 11, 1890. The article* was signed Leonard Wheeler, M.D. She read it and shuddered.

"So, both cases were operated, and yet both patients died?"

"Yes. Tissue was totally unrecognisable from what it should be. No chance of restoring a function by reorientation. No chance of merely removing a cause of sickness and be sure all would be well. But do you know what happened in Lourdes? A boy with this devilish disease had come to Lourdes and not been healed there. On the train he played with a girl who had been healed. Then he came back to his parents and told them: 'I am hungry.' I heard this when our friend J.R.R. Tolkien brought me to listen to a sermon on Lourdes, I know he wrote a letter to his son on the case.** Now, after reading that, what do you make of a phrase like 'I am hungry'?"

"A clear miracle. Ascitic fluid disappeared, stiff arteries restored to functional, holes filled and accretions removed from parietes, and those to restored from brittle ex-flesh to useful tissue. That would be a case where medicine cannot say anything except a miracle."

"Yes, a miracle. And that is another reason I cannot argue that you are mentally ill because you have seen a miraculous event. I need to go to the countryside for a few weeks, you may keep my room for as long as you need until I come back. Here are the kees, I will write the bishop and the medical association to have your psychiatrist from 1950 excluded from it. Have a good day, ma'am, I have a train to catch."



* Link to article is Vol. CXXIII, No. 11, p. 241:
http://www.nejm.org/doi/full/10.1056/NEJM189009111231101

** See Letters by Tolkien. Letter 99.