Thomson Park III

It’s a state of mind when you get to the third in the series and at the start you didn’t even know it was going to be a series.  Is this one any good? Does it suck?  Is there too much animation, cardboard plots and bad acting? What is it?  As a professional critic we get paid to get out to things otherwise we might not go.  We might do something else. But this one is pretty good.  It’s right up there with the others.

Thomson Park III is a hit!  Get down!  Get down there and get all over it!

By the strangest coincidence, the most bizarre concatenation of events all too common when you get right down to it, there’s an article in the current Saturna Scribbler about this selfsame patch of ground Thomson Park. Just when I’ve got another movie coming out.  That’s great.  Syncronicity is still out there.  I believe.

There it is in the distance, the “Thomson Park shelter structure” which needs to be improved, apparently, “so it better reflects the historic, social and even spiritual values of this place.”

I just wonder what that can possibly actually mean?  It’s looking like a bomb-proof heavy steel pavilion structure on a concrete pad with a bunch of big, solid picnic-type tables under a pyramidal green metal roof.  With barbecue. There’s no improving on that. But we understand that it’s all volunteer. That’s what we’re doing ourselves.

Thomson Park is a “site” apparently.  It has a “spacial configuration” and a “functionality over time” and a “broader context in which it played a role”.

I must pause to ask the author of the article what is meant by “deep history”?  Is there “shallow history”?  Is there “not too deep history”? There’s one kind of history.  But that’s enough of this.

Wild speculation that the population of the region may have been “one million” just sounds like bunk.  I’m sorry.  And on to the concept of “settler”.  I’ve seen this before.  This was invented, this idea of “settler” or “settler communities” by one person, somewhere, somehow, in a dark, bureaucratic hole of bureaucratic bs.

There is no “settler” and no “recent settler community” and never was. There are no “settlers” around here and never were.  It’s an academic invention with an agenda and time it was exposed.  It’s heartbreaking.

We need first of all better writing about “Thomson Park” and what it is and what it was before it was “Thomson Park”.  You can’t have lousy writing talking about a special place. It diminishes.  Everything is turned into highly unsanitary mush.  Let’s get with it.  My opinion.

That isn’t what we’re talking about here.


First Nations Logging Show III

Oh deer, what is happening to my habitat?  Make them stop, mother.

We left Bob Stanley in good shape at the foot of Fiddler Rd.  We said “hi” again and told him we had to head back to civilization.  Everybody laughs at that joke and Bob was no exception.  Practically overnight he’d become like a diplomat and a diplomat trying to stay warm standing around all day in this beautiful cool, clear skies week.

He’d had to interact with all sorts of wonderful people with different, wonderful opinions on what was going on here and he was getting through it.  He was okay. He seemed to be a man of many moods, all of them good and the feeling emerged he’d been exactly the man for the job. Good on him and good on good old Campbell River where Bob’s from. Woo woo!

Mad Micky Packs It July 26

Nobody called him that.  “Mad”.  Except my father-in-law whose mother, Amelia, was Edward “Mick” Mannock’s cousin.  “Micky” yes, but surely not “mad”.  I was re-reading ole father-in-law’s autobiography after 20 years, one of 37 books he published, and I didn’t recall him calling him that from the first read-through so it stuck out.  Everything’s twenty years.

Major Mannock 1918

But today, July 26, 1918, it’s “Major Mannock”.  But it’s still good ole “Mick” to friends unless they’re dead.  Dreary stuff, Eleanor.  I seem to have taken over 85 squadron at St. Omer, France.  Why would anyone want to do a thing like that?

It’s all getting a bit vieux chapeau, Gertrude.  Stupid war.  All this bloody killing. 1918 and we’re still bloody going at it. I’ve had it.

I’m not sure why a “Major.”  What else have I been wrong about?  He was too modest.  Staff sergeant Milliby said: “If you’ve been gazetted a major, Major, then you’re bloody well a major.”  So that’s the reason why.


Mick didn’t take a course in killing German airmen in WWI.  He was self-taught.  He killed with a ferocious efficiency.  Early on at 40 Sqd. returning from a patrol the right wing on his plane fell off at 700 feet.  Rather than die he managed to crash land.  After that nobody wanted to talk about how Mannock didn’t know what he was doing.

Gentlemen, always above, seldom on the same level; never underneath.”

And don’t follow your kill down.  You can get shot up from the ground.  Especially true for Mannock because he always attacked from the east and his combats were always over German-held ground.  He was the top “Ace” of the Great War.


I have my own theory about what happened to Mick Mannock that cheerful July morning over the lines under low cloudcover at five am.   After those two bastard enemies in the German flying contraption were killed.  The Kiwi, Inglis, was in on it.

“Both my guns were going full out, when suddenly the Hun’s tail shot up in front of me.  A chill ran through me as I pulled up, just missing his tail and wing by a fraction.  Looking back I saw my first Hun going down in a mass of flames.”


The Blue Flame

It was a special trip because the squadron usually didn’t open much before 8 a.m.  But Inglis needed a first Hun and the major, who by now wasn’t just a legend in his own mind but a greatly respected leader and teacher, and, sine qua non, survivor, wanted to help the Hun-less flyer out. Of course he did.

“We circled once and started for home.  The realization came to me we were being shot at from the ground when I saw the major stop kicking his rudder.  Suddenly a small flame appeared on the right of Mick’s machine, and simultaneously he stopped kicking his rudder.  The plane went into a slow right-hand turn, the flame growing in intensity, and as the machine hit the ground it burst into a mass of flame.”

“I saw no one leave the machine and then started for the lines, climbing slightly and at about 150 feet there was a bang and I was smothered in petrol, my engine cut out so I switched off and made a landing 5 yards behind our front line.”

Nice Pants

That’s not Mick, of course.  He’s dead even if it is only five-thirty in the morning.  That’s the after action report of Inglis, who’d come all the way from the southern hemisphere to give battle, but hadn’t killed anybody before this morning.

It’s quite evident.  It’s never been precisely determined where the Germans buried the major’s body. It’s another one of those things that happened 100 years ago.  Birth, death, it’s all the same.  If things had gone a bit different, and Major M. had got through this morning, he could still be alive.


Quotes from “MANNOCK The Life and Death of Major Edward Mannock VC, DSO, MC, RAF.  By Norman Franks and Andy Saunders. Published 2008.

Kirk Douglas

A hundred doesn’t mean much, especially when you are.  I’ve no idea, but if you cross me in this deal I’ll see you hang.  I’d trade the bunch of you for a couple of campfire girls.

100 years old today.  Born 1916.  Kirk Douglas.  Incredible.  Mom, Dad.  You’re driving me insane.  Pop…  You better have something for me.  I got the bullets.

Kirk was the king of the Capital.  And the Orpheum too.  The Paramount.  The Vogue.  The Cascades.  The Hillcrest.  The Circle.  The Varsity.  The Palisades.  The Dominion.  The Studio.  The Bayview.  The Ridge.  The Belmont.  The Clova.  The Dunbar.  The Fraser.  The Strand.  The Stanley.  The Hollywood.  The Colonial.  The Lougheed Drive-in.

It doesn’t matter now.  You haven’t played straight with me for five minutes since I met you.  And keep that gunsel away from me.  I’ll kill him.  There ain’t but one way out of here and this here is it.

When you side with a man you stick with him.  If you can’t do that you’re like some animal.  You’re finished.  We’re finished.  Blast.  Madness.  Madness.  We were talking about a lot more money than this.  You gotta get your offer way up there in the air where it belongs.

Those are our troops, General.  Think it over.  You’ve got five minutes.  Then you’re either in or you’re out.  For keeps!  That’s right.  Joe couldn’t find a prayer in the bible.  Let’s go down to the bar.  We can cool off while we try to impress each other.  I hate surprises myself.

He was good in “Out of The Past.  He had moments in “Man With A Horn” and was good in “Paths of Glory”.  Then he really got famous.  Frank Gorshin used to do a great impression of Kirk Douglas.  And look what happened to Frank Gorshin.  He never got to act in “Spartacus”.

Just as a quick aside do you ever get fed up with predictive text?  I do.  Who started it and if we find that individual, as Jimmy Pattison says, “Send him to me.”  Or her.  Send her to me.

I won’t obey that order.  You make me sick with your heroics.  You’ve got the stench of death about you.  You carry it around in that packsack like the plague.  I stick my neck out for nobody.  Fasten your seat belts.  It’s going to be a bumpy night.

Of all the gin joints in all the world and she walks into mine.  High-ho Silver.  Only a sap’d head out on a caper with a dame and a dog.  You go down there, General.  You go down there.  Stellaaaaaa….

I don’t care if it short-dicks every cannibal on the Congo.  You will not like me.  I’m sorry, sir.  Those are the numbers.  Sucking the life outta real cops because you don’t have the guts to be one yourself.  Let’s go!

There’s no place like home.  I coulda been a contender.  If you’d come to me the people who ruined your daughter would be suffering this very day.  We want Angel.  We’re not hanging onto anything.  We are advancing constantly.  America loves a winner.  And will not tolerate a loser.

What are you rebelling against?  Whadya got?  My army of beggars, cutthroats and thieves is ready to march.  I’m not saying it’s gonna be easy, but it can be done.  Never get out of the boat.

And that’s just about all the old movie dialogue I can remember.  Some of it’s Kirk’s, some of it isn’t.  Doesn’t matter.  It’s what the man represents.  This is a tribute.  I am Spartacus.  It’s the dimple in the chin.  It’s a world unto itself.  Always.  They’re paying for it, you eat it.

Take the rest of the day off, man.  You’ve earned it.  100.  I salute you.  C’est incroyable.

kirkdouglas

 

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Americans traditionally love to fight.  All real Americans love the sting of battle.  You’re a mean one, Mr. Grinch.  You don’t think I’d go into battle with lose change in my  pocket, do you?  Feeding you, Jack.  Feeding you.  Ya sweat your guts out!  The great spirit moved in me and I decided to spare these villages.  I love the smell of napalm in the morning.  What happened to your mission, Captain?  Nha Trang forget all about you?  We don’t need no stinking badges.  May the force be with you.

Big thanks to CSNicol for additional old movie quote help