Yaletown Brewery, fluid draining, Ian Curtis, Durkee's Famous Sauce

Jon's sent us Sunday dinner info once again: this week might be too short notice to do one, there's a tentative one on the 12th, and the other two Sundays before this one have been booked with other dinners. (Joe's farewell and Vivian's birthday) Says we might do Yaletown Brewery for a dinner instead: their half-price pizza and beer are indeed both very good!


Today's Fluid Yet Truly Morbid Fact!

In 1549, the charnel chapel in St. Paul's churchyard was pulled down, and one thousand cartloads of bones were transported and deposited on "moorish ground" in Finsbury Field, London. The site become known as "Bunhill Fields." (most likely a corruption of "Bone Hill") Burials on the site did not commence until the mid-seventeenth century, but so popular did Bunhill become that by its closure in 1853... 120,000 interments had taken place.

Bunhill Fields is like no other burial ground in London. Sedate chest tombs, tightly packed headstones, and the virtual absence of angels / crosses / draped urns / broken columns set Bunhill apart. One famous inscription tells of the vicissitudes of Mary Page, who died in 1728 of a failing heart which necessitated fluid being drained from her abdomen:

In 67 months she was tap'd 66 times,
Had taken away 240 gallons of water,
Without ever repining at her case,
Or ever fearing the operation.

Culled from: Death: A History Of Man's Obsessions And Fears

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Loads of pictures of Bunhill Fields are available at UK Graves.

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Reflections From The Castle DeSpair

When I was a suicidal teenager, my favorite band was Joy Division. There was something so soothing about singing along to lyrics like, Directionless, so plain to see / A loaded gun won't set you free / So you say or Existence, well what does it matter? In fact, my entire teenage experience could be summed up by a couple of Ian Curtis verses:

Oh, how I realized how I wanted time
Put into perspective, tried so hard to find
Just for one moment thought I'd found my way
Destiny unfolded, I watched it slip away

Now that I've realized how it's all gone wrong
Gotta find some therapy, this treatment takes too long
Deep in the heart of where sympathy held sway
Gotta find my destiny before it gets too late

Luckily, I was able to find my destiny... er, is that what this is?... before it got too late. Ian Curtis was not as fortunate; he hung himself on May 18, 1980. That's a date that I know from memory; Ian's suicide was a signalpost of my youth. I knew somewhere in the back of my mind that it was probably not a good idea to worship a suicide, but I couldn't help myself. My doomed romanticism was at its most sharply tuned during those dark days in the 1980's and I spent my days cloistered in my room listening to Joy Division, reading Sylvia Plath and Anne Sexton, and writing my own gloomy (and piss-poor) poetry. It wasn't much of a life, but it was a living...

I've weathered a lot of rugged emotional terrain since those teenage years (yes, woe IS me!), and although the specific schoolyard scenarios that tormented me back in those days are now a distant memory, the painful emotions that accompanied them still ring true. However, one thing has definitely changed in my medicated mind: I'm not particularly impressed by suicide any longer. I am far more likely to feel sympathy for the loved ones left behind and forever scarred by the suicide than I am for the desperate individual who committed the act. I look back on my own nearly-successful suicide attempt with more embarrassment than pride these days, and I'm not nearly as likely to show off my abundant scars as I used to be 10 years ago. Is this what they call "maturity"... or am I just a boring old Comtesse? Who can say?

So, it is with this changed perspective that I read Touching From A Distance: Ian Curtis and Joy Division by Ian Curtis' widow Deborah. I'm not sure what I was expecting from this book, but I thought I would get some understanding of how Curtis' family and friends could just stand by and seemingly do nothing while his obvious suicidal tendencies went fatally unchecked. The book doesn't really answer that question - except to reinforce just how isolated Curtis had become in his final days, and how estranged he was from his family. If you believe Deborah's account, Ian was almost zombie-like during his last few months, as the strain of his personal problems (a broken marriage, a doomed love affair, and increasingly uncontrollable epilepsy) became unbearable. After reading this book, I understand why Curtis killed himself, and in some ways, I can't say that I blame him.

The book also presents Curtis as a very unlikeable personality. He is cold, controlling, uncaring, and indifferent towards his wife. I have to take that presentation with a grain of salt, since a lot of it smacks of 'Embittered Ex' syndrome. Deborah doesn't seem to have the slightest understanding of her husband, and doesn't offer any explanation of his motivations or his artistry. They don't communicate, don't seem to have anything in common, and they don't really seem to like each other either. It's a pretty depressing read, but not for obvious reasons.

There is one additional thing that I cannot forgive Deborah Curtis for - and that's refusing to publish Ian's suicide note in the book. She makes reference to it as being "deeply personal" - and I suppose this is her excuse for not printing it. But she sure had no problem in exploiting her personal life with Ian when writing this book! Yes, I know I'm being voyeuristic, but I can't help myself - I want to read the note! I want to know what his last thoughts were as he approached his "last fatal hour." Instead, I'm left with continued frustration.

My next read on this subject will be Mick Middles' book Torn Apart which presents the perspective of Curtis' girlfriend Annik Honoré. It's supposed to be much more enlightening than anything his wife could offer. I certainly hope so!

Touching From A Distance: Ian Curtis And Joy Division by Deborah Curtis

Rating: ** skulls (out of 5)

And there's always Anton Corbijn's movie Control to look forward to... It looks excellent!

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Morbid Site Du Jour!

It takes a certain type of deranged genius to create a site like Dead Diseased Baby. I am jealous I didn't think of it myself!

Thanks to KelShubert for the link.


Durkee's Famous Sauce

Recipe By:
Serving Size: 16 Preparation Time: 0:00
Categories: Sauces, Cheese / Eggs

Amount Measure Ingredient -- Preparation Method

1/2 cup Cold water
4 tablespoons Cornstarch
1/2 cup Plus 2 TABLESPOONS dark vinegar
2 tablespoons Salt
1/2 cup Sugar
1 Whole egg
4 tablespoons French's prepared mustard
4 tablespoons Margarine -- tiny bits

Place all ingredients as listed in blender on high speed until smooth (2 minutes). Transfer to top of double boiler and cook over gently boiling water, stirring often for 12 to 15 minutes or until thickened and smooth. Once more, put the mixture back through the blender for 30 seconds or till smooth, using high speed. Refrigerate in covered container 24 hours before using. Keep refrigerated 3 months.