When science fiction attempts to get serious about how to best represent the human colonisation of the solar system, films like Ad Astra (2019) establish free enterprise as the plot devises for the story. With commercial flights to the moon, a Luna base that looks like an airport on Earth, fast food facilities, piracy, and private space laboratories…
…The future of space travel is business.
No human society is going to get off-Earth and colonise the solar system without a powerful driver propelling it. Scientific curiosity can raise billions of dollars to send robots out there to learn things, but inducement is a far greater and more effective driver known to mankind. I’m not talking about a business proposal that sends humans to Mars for a reality TV program, space-faring humans require more of a legal framework, or better, the lack of one, to get it going.
One doesn’t simply just go to Mars.
Japanese space startup, iSpace, has long-term plans to send humans to the moon. To get to that point, the company aims to make the endeavour profitable by launching basic small-scale missions to the moon’s surface to collect regolith samples… and sell them.
But NASA paying just $5000 for the samples is not the end game.
iSpace is also planning to launch satellites around the moon’s orbit to provide high-resolution images of the surface. To achieve any of this, the Japanese government passed a law granting iSpace a licence to prospect for, extract and use various space resources on the Moon. Why do companies need permission to exploit space?
Well, there’s a whole bunch of Space Treaties that block any determination about who owns the Moon, or any other space resource, and stifle any entity, corporate or otherwise from exploiting it. According to The United Nations Office for Outer Space Affairs (UNOOSA) webpage…
Each of the treaties stresses the notion that outer space, the activities carried out in outer space and whatever benefits might be accrued from outer space should be devoted to enhancing the well-being of all countries and humankind, with an emphasis on promoting international cooperationUNOOSA
The 1966 Outer Space Treaty states that “outer space is not subject to national appropriation by claim of sovereignty, by means of use or occupation, or by any other means”.
Another is the 1979 Moon Treaty, which states “the orderly and safe use of the natural lunar resources with an equitable sharing by all state parties in the benefits derived from those resources”.
Here is a summary of what The United Nations has signed up most countries for.
Treaty on Principles Governing the Activities of States in the Exploration and Use of Outer Space, including the Moon and Other Celestial Bodies
Article 1.
Essentially puts forth egalitarian access to all celestial bodies. Everyone is free to explore unhindered for the benefit of all nations. You are allowed to go to any celestial body and do whatever you want, but it’s still vague whether you can capitalise on anything you find.
Article 2
You can not claim sovereignty on any celestial territory.
Outer space, including the Moon and other celestial bodies, is not subject to national appropriation by claim of sovereignty, by means of use or occupation, or by any other means.UNOOSA
There is no ambiguity here. I wonder what trouble in the future this will cause.
Article 3
Determines that you are bound to international laws and to the promotion of peace and cooperation.
Article 4
No weapons in orbit or on the moon or anywhere. Sure, you can be military personnel, but no weapons.
Article 5
Astronauts are to be protected and afforded help and assistance in the event of an accident. Astronauts must help other astronauts in space. And, astronauts must report any “phenomena they discover in outer space, which could constitute a danger.”
Article 6
Governments are responsible for what their national corporations do in outer space and whether or not they are compliant.
Article 7
Get liability insurance. If you launch or attempt to land a spacecraft, and it crashes in an other another country, you are liable.
Article 8
You have legal jurisdiction over whatever you launch into space.
Article 9
Do not bring back “extraterrestrial matter” that can contaminate the Earth, and do not pollute space with experiments that can harm other space farers.
Article 10
“Promote international cooperation” by letting less techy countries come and observe your endeavours.
Article 11
If you’re planning a mission into space, you have to tell everybody what you are doing.
Article 12
“Reciprocity” You have to allow rivals into your base, craft or any installation you have in space. They have to do the same.
Article 13
If you have an issue with another astronaut from another country; or countries, take it up with the “appropriate” authorities, or complain to other member nations of the treaty, and get them to gang up on the offending party.
In other words, doesn’t look like OOSA is able to intervene.
Articles 14 to 17 deal with the how and who can amend, and other housekeeping rules.
There are five U.N. accords with the addition of the “1968 Rescue Agreement”, The “1972 Liability Convention” and the “1975 Registration Convention”.
The Artemis Accords
The United States via NASA has recently set up a separate non-binding multilateral arrangement with the space agencies of 21 other countries. The Artemis program aims to return humans to the Moon by 2025, and then to Mars. The countries who have signed up to this accord pledge to enable laws that endorse and enable their public and private agencies to extract and use space resources.
The US has introduced laws giving American companies the right to the resources they extract in space, the moon or any other celestial body. Britain, Luxembourg and the United Arab Emirates have since passed similar legislation, same as Japan.
But not Russia.
They are sticking to the old U.N. rules, I’m guessing because they are not ready to compete in space with the likes of the West’s private sector companies. They call it a land grab, which in reality it is. Treaties, accords and agreements are a subterfuge for holding national and corporate powers back for as long as possible. Participants agree to these terms so they don’t get left behind. Just like in the case of the Antarctic Treaty, nobody wants a free for all. Space colonisation is very expensive, so if a free for all occurs, and you can’t afford it, you will miss out.
Once Russia feels confident with its public and private sectors, then Roscosmos will change its tune about any egalitarian notions of common heritage and of space belonging to everyone.
China and India too.
The conquest of space will be no different to the conquest of the new world.
Profits will drive the engines, whether this is powered by space tourism, reality TV programs, or mining resources. The Industrial Military Complex will also be a major player, no matter how hard these treaties try to avoid the militarization of space. Treaties are only worth the paper they’re printed on, or the PDF they’re documented on.
The future of space travel will be messy, ad-hoc and business as usual, just as human affairs have been for the past ten thousand years.
The goddess Hera, determined to destroy Heracles, had unleashed a monstrous lion she had raised and sent to terrorize the hills of Nemea. The offspring of Echidna and Typhon, and the brother of the dragon Ladon, this lion was officially trained and settled on Earth to be a menace to mankind. It had golden fur that was robust and impenetrable by human weapons, and sharper than mortal swords. This lion could destroy any strong armour making it invulnerable to attack and effectively unstoppable, a formidable opponent for anyone who dared to face it.
Heracles had faced another lion earlier in his life, killing the Lion of Cithaeron and taking its fur as a trophy, but Hera’s lion was a far more vicious monster. Setting up a fight with the Nemean lion by King Eurystheus as the first labour would be the best way to rid himself of Heracles and the threat to his reign he posed.
Herac took on the quest and headed for Nemea. He wandered the countryside until he came to the town of Cleonae. At the local tavern, Heracles met a youth who was excited to learn of his mission. He offered Heracles a tribute, that if Heracles slew the monster lion and returned alive within thirty days, the town would sacrifice a lion to Zeus, but if he did not return within that same amount of days or he got himself eaten by the lion, the boy would sacrifice himself to Zeus, purposely and selfishly placing an extra burden on Heracles, as a show of how desperate the villagers were in getting rid of this lion.
As Heracles trekked along the surrounding hills, he came across a shepherd, Molorchos. Molorchos recounted how he had recently lost his son to the lion. He too offered to sacrifice one of his rams to Zeus if Heracles returned alive with the dead carcass of the lion within thirty days. On the other hand, if he did not return at all, a ram would be sacrificed to the dead Heracles as a mourning offering. A much less selfish gesture, but Heracles shouldered that obligation as well.
While searching for the lion, Heracles prepared some arrows to use against it. On the tenth day, he had his first encounter with the lion, finding it resting on a giant outcrop overlooking the forest, glistening in the sun. He shot it with his arrows and discovered its golden fur was impenetrable, his arrows bouncing harmlessly off the creature’s thigh. After a day of stalking and hunting each other, Heracles discovered the lion’s lair and figured out how to use it as a trap. The cave had two entrances, one of which Heracles blocked. When the lion returned to his cave, Heracles went in after it. In the darkness and tight spaces, Heracles wrestled the beast and, with the help of an Earth-born Serpent, managed to stun the beast with his club, killing the disoriented lion by strangling it with his bare hands. Eager to help, and rub the victory in Hera’s face, Athena advised Heracles to use one of the lion’s own claws to skin the pelt.
On the thirtieth day of the quest, Heracles returned to Tiryns carrying the carcass of the lion on his shoulders. King Eurystheus was astonished and frightened, expecting Heracles to be eaten alive, and fearing the man’s supernatural strength. This fear prompted Eurystheus to forbid Heracles from ever again entering the city. Any future interactions would be held outside the city gates.
Eurystheus didn’t waste time sending Heracles off to complete his next labour, deciding on a task with increasing danger, which was to destroy the Lernaean Hydra. Heracles wasted no time setting off on the quest, wearing the Nemean lion’s pelt as a shield, impervious to the elements and all but the most powerful weapons.
The sandstorm above had been raging for three days with no end in sight. So intense, the winds toppled vehicles, trucks and all. They eroded away the road leading in and out of the mine, destroying the ramp, even the super trucks couldn’t scale the man-made canyon.
Workers have become sick. They had fallen weak; their skin had become yellow, not like jaundice, but splotchy yellow pigmentation. According to the doc, whatever this pestilence was, it wasn’t infectious.
“The mine’s sitting atop a massive motherlode of rare-earth metals,” said Gillian as we both descended down the deep crevasse. “Erosion didn’t create this cave .”
I noticed no smooth surface, just jagged, sharp edges. “Then what made this?”
“It’s a fracture. A lot of energy caused it. Maybe the impact of a meteor hitting the Earth all those millions of years ago.”
“Meteor?”
“This mineral lode originated from space.”
“What? Are we dealing with alien forces?”
Gillian frowned and continued rappelling further down the dark rift. The cave system was discovered by workers as they were excavating the fourth parallel tunnel. They discovered a solid tungsten deposit, lots of artefacts…
…and the cave.
When we measured the chasm with the laser, we failed to hit a bottom, so Gillian suggested we go down seventy metres, the limit of our equipment. What she was looking for, down in the darkness, I couldn’t guess. Evidence? Something to explain the sequence of events that had occurred above ground and below.
The storm.
The sickness.
The loss of communication.
Everyone’s sleep is affected by demonic nightmares.
The miners had found artefacts. Tungsten skulls the size of one’s fist.
Supernatural?
Nothing made sense…
We reach the end of the line and dangled in the darkness for a moment.
“What now?” I asked her.
“I’m going to vomit,” she answered and did so.
I pointed the flashlight at her and waited for her to recover. “Everything okay?”
“Do you feel it?”
I did. Beyond my hyper-anxiety, my intense urge to panic, I felt…
…weightlessness.
What was vertical, now seemed horizontal. “What’s happening?”
Gillian swung to the side and placed her feet on the wall. She unfastened herself and stood, perpendicular to me.
I did the same. It took me longer to achieve balance, but when I did, up and down no longer existed. “Holy shit.”
The ability to walk lessened my phobia somewhat. It gave me a sense that I could escape. But the endless darkness, which not even the industrial flashlight could breach, hampered my enforced calmness.
“Let’s press on,” said Gillian.
“Are you sure?”
“More than ever. Something’s definitely down here. Enough to distort gravity.” She then looked at me. “Plus, what choice do we have?”
Trekking proved more difficult than the rope, due to the rough, uneven passage made of pure, solid wolframite. The further we progressed, the heavier our bodies became. The cave eventually evened out and widened, spilling into a cavern. As we walked through the darkness, it felt as if we were ascending.
“Hand me a flare,” ordered Gillian. She took the candle out of my hand and ignited it. The cavern lit up, the tungsten ore reflecting the brilliant purple glow. Gillian seemed stunned by what she saw. I really couldn’t blame her.
We were atop a hill at the centre of the cavern. A temple-like structure stood at the summit. Made of wolfram, its pillared design seemed organic – biomechanical. What struck me as more insane, was the other temple above, on the cavern’s ceiling, opposite our position, separated from us by a vast black void. A great cubical chain linked both temples. This time, the mineralogist in me, recognised the iron-ferrite.
“What the hell,” gasped Gillian.
We stood at the base of the chain and looked up at the other temple. “This is way above my pay grade.”
“We have to go up,” she insisted.
“And achieve what? Whatever this is, we are not equipped to deal with it. We should go back and tell the doc…”
“What? Tell him what?”
“When the storm subsides, we could get the word out.” I pointed to the chain. “THIS requires a multi-governmental response. Me and you can’t solve this.”
“The sickness causes cannibalism.”
“What?”
“The doc didn’t want everyone to know.”
“How does he know that?”
“The B Crew have eaten most of the engineers, so yeah, Doc may be onto something with his diagnosis.”
That’s when I felt a new kind of fear, something I’d never experienced before, enough to drive me up that cube-link chain. Halfway up, I expected gravity to shift again, but that didn’t eventuate. The anti-temple was, in fact, built upside down. Spiral stairs awaited us and we both ascended quietly, without uttering a word.
We exited into another, grander temple. Biomechanical sculptures adorned the hall, which opened out into a street.
An urban street.
The sky was black, broken only by slivers of red cloud. The air was cold and putrid. Even a chemical engineer like me couldn’t place the toxicity. But the urban landscape around us, even the soundscape, was unmistakable.
Home.
“Where is this?” spoke Gillian.
“Downtown, somewhere.”
“But where?” She walked across a street bordered by factory and apartment lots, lit by the garish light coming from the lamp posts and the neon glow of a late-night grocery store. Gillian stepped towards the entrance, intending to go inside. I rushed after her and followed as she pushed through the glass, sticker-riddled door.
We found nobody at the counter so we wandered the aisles, looking at the plethora of goods on the shelves, not one label was recognisable, and none of the writing was familiar. In the freezer section, somebody was busy stacking shelves. I should say ‘something’ because this clerk was far from human. With its orange-red flaky skin, duel tiny horns protruding from its temple, another pair from its jaw, and arcing shoulders, this ugly demon paused what it was doing and looked at us with yellow eyes.
Gillian shrieked and ran, pulling me along. Enduring the same terror as she felt, I complied. We ran out into the night and fled into the shadows. The one thing that struck me about this demon was, that it seemed surprised and afraid…
There are many benefits to writing short stories. Writers do it to practice and develop their style of storytelling, and it also allows them to explore singular ideas, concepts and themes. The narratives are easy to control, the outcomes have less room for error, and you can get your story out quickly.
THE pope is the bishop of Rome, and the traditions of the papacy delight in recalling the humble origin of his vast monarchy, at once spiritual and temporal, ecclesiastical and secular. If the poor Galiæan fisherman ever entered the Eternal City, it was as a stranger who had come to be the guide and friend of a small knot of men who saw and hated and wished to keep themselves aloof from the abominable corruption of Roman society.
But if Christianity itself, as we have seen, was, when it had once taken root in the West, modified by the popular feelings and old associations of the converts, the constitution of the church was in like manner insensibly modified by the political forms of the state with which it had at first to wage a terrible conflict.
Rome was not as other cities: and the bishop of Rome could not long remain like the presidents of other churches. He was dealing with the subjects, and he lived in the heart, of the empire. It was inevitable that the imperial tradition should fasten on the object of their worship; nor was it long before the exulting cry went up to heaven, Christ lives, Christ rules, Christ is emperor (Christus vivit, Christus regnat, Christus imperat).
A.D. 587-604
As the vicars of this invisible emperor, the popes gradually acquired a power which overshadowed that of mightiest sovereigns. It was exercised with monastic austerity by Gregory the Great; it was wielded with the ability of a consummate general by Gregory VII Hildebrand.
A.D. 1073-1085.
The first Gregory was a monk, therefore also a Manichean; in other words, one who believed in the essential impurity of all matter; but this philosophy, if it had any attractions for Gregory VII, was wholly subordinate to the one absorbing passion of ecclesiastical dominion. His aim was to subdue the world by a spiritual army: but the issue of his conquest was not to be confined to spiritual influence. It was to give him power over kingdoms, dictation over princes, the command of their weapons and their wealth. It was to humble civil polity under priestly autocracy; it was to prove, what Hildebrand scrupled not to assert, that the civil rule was in itself the mere development and working of the evil principle. The foundations had long been laid; but Hildebrand left to his successors not much to do towards completing the fabric of papal empire. His predecessors had learnt to avail themselves dexterously of popular feeling or the ambition of princes, to direct wide-spread movements, if not to create them.
It was the papal sanction which had aided to depose the degenerate Merovingian; it was the papal chrism which had anointed the first Carolingian king. It was the diadem of the ancient Cæsars, bestowed by the hand of Leo III., which rested on the head of Charles the Great. It was Hildebrand himself who, by the hands of his instrument, Alexander II., had transferred the crown of England from the son of Godwine to William the Bastard of Normandy. It has been well remarked, that although the name had not yet been heard, yet in truth it was now that the first crusade was preached, and it was preached by the voice of Rome against the liberties of England.
We may note further that the preacher was a pontiff who, when he found it convenient to thank the Sultan of Morocco for some indulgences granted to Christians in his territories, could assure that infidel ruler that both worshipped the same God and held the same faith, though their modes of worship and their expressions of devotion might be different.
Schemes and motives of Gregory VII
The popes had become capable of setting vast armies in motion, and of raising to a white heat the fire of a popular sentiment which had already been kindled. These two conditions were needed before the power of Europe could be precipitated on the infidel conquerors of Syria; and the inability of the pope’s to accomplish this end if they were not in accord with the prevalent feeling of the people is strikingly shown in the history of Gregory VII.
A. D. 1074. His circular letter to the faithful.
Eight years after he had helped to slay Harold at Hastings, Hildebrand addressed a letter to all who loved and cared to defend the Catholic faith, beseeching them to put aside all other tasks in favour of the great work of chasing the hordes of the Seljukian Turks beyond the bounds of the Eastern empire.
Constantinople, the new city of the Seven Hills, was even now threatened by these barbarians; nor could any say how soon the danger might not menace Rome itself. It could not be doubted that the faith, the energy, the warlike skill of Christendom would sweep away these undisciplined unbelievers; and the victory of the faithful would be followed by very solid gain to the popes. The price to be paid by the emperor for his deliverance from the Turks was his submission as a vassal to the see of Rome; in other words, the pope was to become absolute lorá both of East and West, and the claims of the Byzantine patriarch to a coordinate dignity with the successor of St. Peter should no longer be made with impunity. But although the scheme thus carefully drawn out was to promote the interests of a spiritual power, for the great mass of Latin Christians it was purely a political enterprise. The fears and die tresses of the Eastern emperor could excite no sympathy; the Cæsar of Constantinople was not a being who had exhibited the image of superhuman love or shed his blood for those who had taken delight in torturing him; and the excommunication which Hildebrand had imprudently hurled against the emperor Nicephorus (Nikephoros) III., had left behind it in the East a feeling not favourable to the designs of the Roman pontiff. The letter of Hildebrand appealed to no religious associations; it said nothing of abominations committed in the holy places, of terrible crimes wrought on the persons of faithful pilgrims; it was silent about the eternal reward which the bare act of pilgrimage would win for the believer. It was of little use to say in passing that more than 50,000 warriors longed to rise up under his guidance against the enemies of God and reach the sepulchre of their Lord. He had not struck the right chord, and Hildebrand failed to see the West gird itself for the great conflict with the enemies of the faith.
A.D. 1081. The Normans in Italy.
For a time he may have supposed that the great fire was already kindled, when with a fleet of 150 ships and an army of 30,000 men Robert Guiscard set sail from Brundusium (Brindisi). But the conqueror who had done so much in Italy was to do but little to the east of the Adriatic. While his army put forth its whole strength before the walls of Dyrrhachium (Durazzo), his fleet under the command of his son Bobemond was miserably defeated; and nothing but the wretched jealousy felt by the emperor Alexios for his general Paleologos saved the army of Guiscard from ruin and turned the threatened disaster into victory.
A.D. 1082.
When, being compelled to return to Italy, he left Bohemond to carry on his enterprise, the latter overran Epeiros and had well nigh succeeded in reducing the Thessalian Larissa, when he too was compelled to hasten to Italy for reinforcements both in men and money.
A. D. 1083
In his absence his deputy, Brienne, the constable of Apulia, was constrained to abandon the siege of Kastoria and to bind himself not to invade again the territories of the Byzantine emperor.
A.D. 1085.
Not many months later Robert Guiscard gathered an other armament for the conquest of the East. He raised the siege of Corfu (Korkyra), and had reached Cefalonia (Kephallenia), when his career was cut short by death and his scheme for the time seemed utterly brought to nought. The war which Hildebrand sought to stir up against the Mahometan powers was not less vigorously preached by his successor Victor III., who promised remission of sins to all who might engage in it; but his words called forth no bands of warriors for the recovery of Jerusalem
A.D. 1087.
The fleets of Genoa and Pisa swept the African coasts, and gained in the shape of booty a harvest which was to fall to the lot of few among the myriads who were soon to leave their homes for the Holy Land.
A.D. 1095
Ten years after the death of Hildebrand three or four thousand of the clergy and thirty thousand laymen were gathered to meet pope Urban II. at the council of Piacenza (Placentia). So vast a Council of throng could find standing ground in no Piacenza building, and the business of the council was transacted in the plain outside the city.
The envoys of the Eastern emperor, Alexios Comnenos, were there to plead his distresses and beseech the strenuous aid of the faithful. The policy of checking the progress of the Turks while they were still at a good distance from Italy may have influenced the more statesmanlike of their hearers; the more vehement and enthusiastic among them were moved to tears by the pathetic recital of the Byzantine ambassadors, and demanded loudly to be led against the enemy.
But Urban, with his heart more determinately set upon the enterprise than any man present, felt that the hour for the supreme decision had not yet come. He was in a country torn by intestine divisions, where his own claim to the papacy was disputed by an antipope whom with his adherents it was here his especial business to excommunicate. He had to deal with other matters also.
Some of the clergy still refused to abandon their wives; and the wife of the emperor Henry IV. was present to complain of treatment unimaginably monstrous, if her tale was true, on the part of her husband. Both emperor and clergy must be condemned, and brought into obedience; and Urban felt that after such business as this it would be well to reserve his eloquence for another scene. He therefore dismissed the envoys of Alexios with the assurance that when the hosts of Western Christendom advanced to the rescue of the Holy Sepulchre they would not forget that they had work to do near Constantinople.
A.D. 799
From Piacenza Urban made his way across the Alps to the realm of the great Charles, whose intercourse with the ambassadors of the Caliph Harun-al Reschid may have laid the foundation for the myth, expanded into a systematic fiction in the lying Chronicle of Turpin, that he had himself smitten down the unbelievers under the shadow of the church of Constantine. On the northern side of the Alps, Urban could breathe more freely. The sentence of excommunication was impending, it is true, over Philip the First, who called himself or was called King of France; but the great-grandson of Hugh Capet, powerful though he might be within his own dominion of Paris and Orleans, was little more than nominal lord of the vast throng of feudal chiefs who lay beyond its borders.
A.D. 1995 The Council of Clermont
From his old home in the great monastery of Clugny, Urban set off in the autumn for Clermont in the territories of the Count of Auvergne. Before he could reach the city, thousands of tents were pitched without the walls for those who could find no shelter within them; and the eight days during which the council held its sessions were spent in regulating the enterprise about which the pope had spoken with so much reserve at Piacenza, and in prescribing the measures to be taken for the safety of those who might remain at home during the absence of their natural protectors.
Pilgrimage of the hermit Peter to Jerusalem.
There was now no more need for hesitation. Popular feeling to the north of the Alps was far more deeply moved by the woes of the pilgrims and the conquests of the infidels than on the southern side of the great mountain barriers; and the wrath of the people had been fanned into an ungovernable flame by the preaching of the hermit Peter. This man, born at Amiens in Picardy, had forsaken his wife and laid aside the sword which he wielded in the service of the Counts of Boulogne, to follow the counsel of perfection in silence and solitude.
A.D. 1093
Like others, he felt himself drawn by an irresistible attraction to the Holy Land; but if his passionate yearnings were rewarded by the privilege of offering up his prayers before the tomb of the Redeemer, his very heart was stirred by the sight of things the mere recital of which had awakened his wrath at a distance. The Sanctuary was in the hands of the infidels; the patriarch was reduced practically to the state of a slave, and the pilgrim was happy who returned from the Holy City without undergoing humiliations and buffetings scarcely deserved by the worst of criminals.
The murder of many Christian men, the deadly wrongs done to many Christian women, called aloud for vengeance, and the hermit made his vow that, with the help of God, these things should cease. His conversations with the patriarch Simeon brought out only confessions of the incapacity of the Greek emperor and the weakness of his empire. The nations of the West shall take up arms in your cause,’ said the hermit; and with the patriarchal benediction Peter hastened to obtain for the mission which he now saw before him the sanction of the man who claimed to be at the head of Eastern and Western Christendom alike.
A.D. 1094 The mission and preaching of the hermit.
Before the Roman pontiff, Peter poured forth his story of the wrongs which called for immediate redress; but no eloquence was needed to stir the heart of Urban. The zeal of the pope was probably as sincere as that of any others who engaged in the enterprise; but it could not fail to derive strength from the consciousness that, whatever might be the result to the warriors of the cross, his own power would rest henceforth on more solid foundations. His blessing was therefore eagerly bestowed on the fervent enthusiast who undertook to go through the length and breadth of the land, stirring up the people to the great work for the love of God and of their own souls. His eloquence may have been as rude as it was ready; but its deficiencies were more than made up by the earnestness which gave even to the glance of his eye a force more powerful than speech.
Dwarfish in stature and mean in person, he was yet filled with a fire which would not stay, and the horrors which were burnt in upon his soul were those which would most surely stir the conscience and rouse the wrath of his hearers. His fiery appeals carried everything before them. Wherever he went, rich and poor, aged and young, the knight and the peasant, thronged round the emaciated stranger, who with his head and feet bare rode on his ass, carrying a huge crucifix.
That form, of which they beheld the bleeding sign, he had himself seen; nay, he had received from the Saviour a letter which had fallen down from heaven. He appealed to every feeling which may stir the heart of mankind generally, to every motive which should have especial power with all faithful Christians.
He called upon them for the deliverance of the land which was the cradle of their faith, for the punishment of the barbarian who had dared to defile it, for the rescue of the brethren who were the victims of his tyranny. The vehemence which choked his own utterance became contagious: his sobs and groans called forth the tears and cries of the vast crowds who hung upon his words, and who greedily devoured the harrowing accounts of the pilgrims whom Peter brought forward as witnesses to the truth of his picture.
Motives more earthly may have mingled with his austere call in the minds of some who heard him. Of these motives the hermit said nothing: but there is no doubt that he made his last and most constraining appeal to that notion of mechanical religion which the prophet Micah puts into the mouth of Balak the king of Moab. The consciences of some amongst his hearers might be weighed down by the burden of sins too grievous almost for forgiveness. He besought them to remember that such fears were altogether misplaced, if only they made up their minds to take part in the redemption of the Holy Land. If they chose to become the soldiers of the cross, their salvation was at once achieved.
There was no sin, however fearful, which would not be cancelled by the mere taking of the vow; no sinful habits which would not be condoned in those who might fall in battle with the unbelievers. The excitement of the moment, the frenzy which, having first unsettled the mind of the hermit, was by him communicated to his hearers, threw, we cannot doubt, a specious colouring over a degrading morality and a hopelessly corrupting religion; but as little can we doubt that the whole temper which stirred up and kept alive the enterprise left behind it a poisoned atmosphere which could be cleared only by the storms and tempests of the Reformation.
Decrees of the Council of Clermont, prohibiting private wars, and confirming the Truce of God.
The preaching of the hermit predetermined the results of the Council of Clermont; but Urban and the throng of bishops and abbots who were gathered around him were well aware that something more was needed than the enlisting of an army of zealots for distant warfare. With our settled laws and orderly government it is almost impossible for us to realise the condition even of the most advanced states of Christian Europe in an age when the power of the king over his vassals meant simply that which the strength or the weakness of the vassals made it, and when the vassal, if he owed allegiance to his lord, was bound by no ties to his fellow vassals.
The system of feudalism could not fail to feed the worst passions of human nature; and the absence of an authority capable of constraining all alike involved for those who felt or fancied themselves aggrieved an irresistible temptation to take the law into their own hands. But the practice of private war thus set up would sooner or later assume the form of a trade, and in the words of William of Malmesbury things had now come to so wretched a pass that feudal chiefs would take each other captive on little or no pretence, and would set their prisoners free only on the payment of an enormous ransom. This military violence of the laity was accompanied by corruption on the part of the clergy, showing itself in a shameless traffic of benefices and dignities which, in brief phrase, fell to the lot of the highest bidder.
In such a condition of things to drain off to distant lands a large proportion of the men who at home might do something to check, if not to repress, the mischief, would be to leave those who remained behind defenceless. Decrees were therefore passed, condemning private wars, confirming the Truce of God which suspended all hostilities during four days of each week, and placing the women and the clergy under the protection of the Church, which in an especial manner was extended to merchants and husbandmen for three years.
Speech of Urban II. before the people.
When, the business of the council being ended, Urban ascended a lofty scaffold and began his address to the people, he spoke to hearers for whom arguments were no longer needed, but who were well pleased to hear from the chief of Christendom words which carried with them comfort and encouragement.
Three forms or versions of this speech have been preserved to us; one in the pages of William of Tyre, a second in those of William of Malmesbury, a third from a manuscript in the Vatican. It is possible that they may represent three different speeches: but the substance of all is the same, and we are left in no doubt of the general tenor of his words. With some inconsistency, he dwelt on the cowardice of the barbarians who had contrived to conquer Syria and whose tyranny called forth the appeal which he now made to them. The Turk, shrinking from close encounters, trusted to his bow and arrow; and the venom of his poisoned shaft, not the bra very of a valiant warrior, inflicted death on the man whom it struck.
Their fears, he added, were justified, for the blood which ran in the veins of men born in countries scorched with the heat of the sun was scanty in stream and poor in quality as compared with that which coursed through the bodies of men belonging to more temperate regions. In these temperate regions you were born,’ he pleaded, and you have therefore a title to victory which your enemies can never acquire. You have prudence, you have discipline, you have skill and valour, and you will go forth, through the gift of God and the privilege of St. Peter, absolved from all your sins.
The consciousness of this freedom shall soothe the toil of your journey, and death will bring to you the benefits of a blessed martyrdom. Sufferings and torments may perhaps await you. You may picture them to yourselves as the most exquisite tortures, and the picture may perhaps fall short of the agony which you may have to undergo; but your sufferings will redeem your souls at the expense of your bodies. Go then on your errand of love, of love for the Earthful who in the lands overcome by the infidel cannot defend themselves, of love which will put out of sight all the ties that bind you to the spots which you have called your homes. Your homes, in truth, they are not.
For the Christian all the world is exile, and all the world is at the same time his country. If you leave a rich patrimony bere, a better patrimony is promised to you in the Holy Land. They who die will enter the mansions of heaven, while the living shall behold the sepulchre of their Lord. Blessed are they who, taking this vow upon them, shall inherit such a recompense: happy they who are led to such a conflict, that they may share in such rewards.’
The Assent of the Multitude
It was no wonder that words thus striking chords of feeling already stretched to intensity should be interrupted with the passionate cry ‘It is the will of God! It is the will of God!’ which broke from the assembled multitude. “It is, in truth, his will, added the pontiff, and let these words be your war cry when you unsheath your swords against the Enemy. You are soldiers of the cross: wear, then, on your breasts or on your shoulders the blood-red sign of Him who died for the salvation of your souls. Wear it as a token that his help will never fail you: wear it as the pledge of a vow which can never be recalled.’
The Cross and the Vow of the Crusaders.
By these words, the war now proclaimed against the Turks received the name which has become a general title for all wars or hostile undertakings carried on in the name of religion. Thousands hastened at once to put on the badge and so to take their place among the ranks of the crusaders. The rival claims of the antipope withheld Urban himself from taking the pledge to which he was clamorously invited; and worldly prudence alone may have suggested the wisdom of standing aloof from a conflict in which disaster to a Roman pontiff would certainly be regarded as a visible sign of the divine displeasure.
Of the clergy, the first to assume the cross was Adhemar (Aymer), bishop of Puy, and as his reward he received the powers and dignity of papal legate. At the head of the laity Raymond, count of Toulouse, duke of Narbonne and marquis of Provence, promised through his ambassadors to be ready by the Feast of the Assumption, August 15, next following the council, the day fixed for the departure of the crusading hosts for Constantinople.
Motives of the Crusaders.
Thus was the die cast for a venture which in the eye of a keen-sighted general or a far-seeing statesman should have boded little good, but which held out irresistible attractions for the great mass of the people,-attractions which continued to draw hundreds and thousands still to the unknown and mysterious East, when a long series of disasters had proved that the journey to Jerusalem was in all likelihood a journey to the grave.
For the really sincere and devout, whose lives had been passed without reproach and who could await the future with a clear conscience, there was the deep sense of binding duty, the yearning to be brought nearer whether on earth or in heaven to the Master whom they loved. For the feudal chieftain there was the fierce pastime of war which formed the main occupation and perhaps the only delight of his life, with the wild excitement produced by the thought that the indulgence of his passions had now become a solemn act of religion.
A.D. 1058-9.
There was also the prospect of vast and permanent conquest; and the duke or count who left a fair domain behind him might look forward to the chance of winning a realm as splendid as that which Robert Guiscard and his Normans had won in Apulia and Sicily. For the common herd and those whom gross living had rendered moral cowards, there was the offer of a method by which they might wipe away their guilt without changing their character and disposition. Not a few might be caught by the philosophy of the abbot Guibert, who boldly drew a parallel between the crusades and holy orders or monachism.
That height of perfection which ecclesiastics might reach in their own sphere was now attainable by laymen through an enterprise in which their usual license and habits of life would win them the favour of God not less than the most unsparing austerity of the monk or the priest. It was, in short, a new mode of salvation, and they who were hurrying along the broad road to destruction now found that the taking of a vow converted it into the narrow and rugged path to heaven. Nor was the number few of those for whom this convenient arrangement was combined with some solid temporal advantages.
The cross on the breast or shoulder set free from the clutches of his lord the burgher or the peasant attached to the soil, opened the prison doors for malefactors of every kind, released the debtor from the obligation of paying interest on his debts while he wore the sacred badge, and placed him beyond the reach of his creditors. Lastly, the episode of a crusade might be for the priest a pleasant interruption to the dull routine of parochial work, to the monk an agreeable change from the wearisome monotony of his conventual life.
Financial Effect of the Crusade.
The usurer and the creditor might fancy themselves to be somewhat harshly treated. Yet they were amongst the few to whom the crazy enterprise (crazy not from the impracticability of its objects, but from the way in which these were followed), brought a solid benefit.
The unthinking throng might rush off to Palestine without making the least preparation for their journey or their maintenance, in the blind faith that they would be fed and clothed like the fowls of the air or the lilies of the field. But for those who could judge more soberly, and for those who were not willing to forego their luxuries or their pleasures, there was the need of providing a store of the precious metals by means of which alone their wishes could be gratified.
The duke, who had to maintain a vast and brilliant retinue, was compelled to mortgage his dominions; and thus for the sum of ten thousand marks, wrung from the lower orders in the English state, William Rufus obtained from his brother Robert the government of his dukedom for five years, and took care that the prize so won should not slip again from his grasp. Nobles and knights, setting off on the crusade, all wished to sell land, all wished to buy arms and horses. The arms and horses therefore became ruinously dear, the lands ridiculously cheap. It is easy to see that the prudent trader, the cautious merchant, the landowner whose eye was fixed on the main chance, would stand at an enormous advantage.
Effects of the crusades on the power of the pope and the clergy.
But if these were gainers, the gains of the pope and the sacerdotal army of which he was the chief were greater still. If the proclamation of the crusader rendered all private warfare a treason against Christendom, if it set free even the noble from the power of the overlord, and made the latter incapable of summoning his vassal to his standard, if the crusader, as the soldier of the Church, was released from every other obligation, these tremendous changes had been wrought wholly by the power of the pope and his hierarchy.
Dispensing Power of the Pope.
In placing the dominions of all crusading princes under the protection of the Church, the council of Clermont may have provided for those chiefs a most inadequate defence; but it placed the pope on a height above all earthly princes, and the power which withheld the arm of the creditor from falling upon his debtor became a vast dispensing authority, the possession of which would have delighted the heart and realised the highest longings of Hildebrand. Urban did not go to Palestine: but even there he was present in the person of his legate Adhemar, and thus claimed the guidance of a war sanctified by his blessing and undertaken in the cause of the Church.
The vows of the crusader were taken, again, by many who had no present intention of fulfilling them. Sickness, or misfortune, or qualms of conscience might lead them to assume the fatal sign; but from that moment until they set off on their journey they put themselves in the power of the pope, who sometimes used with cruel effect the hold thus obtained over emperors and kings.
Tendency of the Crusades to break up the Feudal System.
Kings, it is true, reaped no small benefit from the impulse which drove their vassals to the Holy Sepulchre; and the absorption of the smaller into larger fiefs, and of these again into royal domain, tended to that extension of the sovereign power which ultimately broke up the feudal system. But these results were far distant; the immediate harvest was gathered by the pope.
Increasing wealth of the pope and the clergy
Thus far he had appeared by his representatives in general or local councils; by these he had interfered in the settlement of disputes, through these he had negotiated with princes. But the preaching of the crusades furnished a reason or a pretext for sending his legates into every land. Their primary business was to stir up the hearts of the faithful or to keep them up to fever heat: but scarcely less important was the task of collecting money for the support of the crusading armies.
On the clergy, whether secular or regular, and on the monastic orders, the pope had a claim which they dared not to call into question, and the subsidies exacted or enjoined for this purpose were paid with a real or a feigned cheerfulness.
To the laity the prayer for voluntary alms assumed practically the form of a demand. Refusal would imply lukewarmness in the faith, if not positive heresy; and the imputation could not be incurred without peril of temporal and even of eternal ruin. Both for the clergy and the laity the charge for a special and temporary purpose became a permanent tax, the proceeds of which the pope might expend on any objects, and in the theory of the time he could spend them on none which were not good.
Alienation and pledging mortgagees of lands
But for the impost thus laid upon them the clergy had a compensation which by the nature of the case could not be enjoyed by the laity. If a bishop put on the cross he might lay a burden on his estates, but he could not alienate them, as his right over them ceased with his death; but in point of fact it was chiefly the prelates and the monastic houses that became guardians or mortgaging of lands belonging to men who had betaken themselves to the Holy Land.
The Jews, who amassed immense profits on their loans to needy crusaders, had nothing to do with the cultivation of the soil, and in most countries could not be owners of it. But the Church was everywhere ready with its protection and its money; nor were there wanting enthusiasts who, as they fixed the blood-red cross on their garment, gave up all their lands and worldly goods to the spiritual body whose prayers they regarded as a more than sufficient recompense.
Even they who left the Church merely the guardian of their estates in their absence might die in the East; and if they died without heirs the guardians became absolute owners. If they came back, toil and disappointment had often so worn them down that they took refuge in a cloister and handed over to the fraternity whatever of their property might still remain to them.
The vast gains thus accruing were all over and beyond the accumulations amassed from the bequests of ordinary or extraordinary penitents on their death-beds or the gifts of enthusiastic devotees during their lifetime; and all the land so gained to the Church was withdrawn from the jurisdiction of the sovereign who professed to rule the country, and thus formed a kingdom within a kingdom, the spiritual domain threatening constantly to absorb that of the secular monarch.
A collision, followed by violent and iniquitous spoliation, became inevitable; and when the time was come the great fabric of ecclesiastical wealth was plundered and demolished.
The Crusades not National Enterprises.
In the enterprise to which Latin Christendom thus stood committed, the several nations or countries of Europe took very unequal parts; or, rather, no nation, as such, took any part in it at all; and in this fact we have the explanation of that want of coherent action, and even decent or average generalship, which is commonly seen in national undertakings.
For the crusade there was no attempt at a commissariat, no care for a base of supplies; and the crusading hosts were a collection of individual adventurers who either went without making any provision for their journey or provided for their own needs and those of their followers from their own resources.
The number of these adventurers was naturally determined by the political conditions of the country from which they came. In Italy the struggle between the pope and the antipope went far towards chilling enthusiasm; and the recruits for the crusading army came chiefly from the Normans who had followed Robert Guiscard to the sunny southern lands.
The Spaniards were busied with a crusade nearer home, and were already pushing back to the south the Mahomedan dominion which had once threatened to pass the barriers of the Pyrenees and carry the Crescent to the shores of the Baltic Sea.
A.D. 1085. Condition of Europe in the time of Urban II
About ten years before the council of Clermont the Moslem dynasty of Toledo had been expelled by Alfonso king of Gallicia: the Kingdom of Cordova had fallen twenty years earlier (1065), and while Peter the Hermit was hurrying hither and thither through the countries of northern Europe, the Christians of Spain were winning victories in Murcia, and the land was ringing with the exploits of the dauntless Cid, Ruy Diaz de Bivar.
By the Germans the summons to the rescue of the Holy Sepulchre was received with comparative coldness: the partisans of emperors, who had been humbled to the dust by the predecessors of Urban, if not by himself, were not vehemently eager to obey it. The bishops of Salzburg, Passau, and Strasburg, the aged duke Guelf of Bavaria, had undertaken the toilsome and perilous journey: not one of them saw their homes again, and their death in the distant East was not regarded by their countrymen as an encouragement to follow their example.
In England the English were too much weighed down by the miseries of the Conquest, the Normans too much occupied in strengthening their position, and the king, William the Red, more ready to take advantage of the needs of his brother Robert than to incur any risks of his own. The great movement came from the lands extending from the Scheldt to the Pyrenees. Franks and Normans alike made ready with impetuous haste for the great adventure; and tens of thousands, who could not wait for the formation of something like a regular army, hurried away, under leaders as frantic as themselves, to their inevitable doom.
The function room is modest in size, stark and somberly lit. A low hum from the air conditioner can be heard. Douglas sits at a small conference table with his arms crossed. He has a defiant expression on his face as he looks past the table at another man sitting across from him.
“I must have thought I put them there,” he answers.
Wedged in between paperwork and a laptop, Eric is seated opposite Douglas, fiercely staring at him. “I asked you to place the tongs on the food eleven minutes prior.”
Douglas raises his voice, “You told me to do something else at the time.”
“Regardless,” snaps Eric, “It would have taken two seconds to do it. How else are people gonna eat? With their hands?”
Douglas shrugs his shoulders with attitude.
Eric is taken aback. “What is that supposed to mean?” Eric mimics the shrugging of the shoulders with a deformed twisted angry face. “What is that?” He again reenacts the mockery of shrugging shoulders.
Eric’s face relaxes into calm. “So Douglas, you don’t want to work here is that it?”
Douglas straightens up from his insolent posture. “Yes, I do.”
Eric glares at him, then shouts, “No you don’t!” Once composed, he continues. “Do me a favour, can you check my forehead? Have I got fucking idiot written on it because I can’t tell? Check properly.”
Douglas stares back at Eric not moving an inch.
Eric insists, “Is it in invisible ink that only other people can see? Who the fuck do you think you are? All you seem to do is walk around the entire day with your head up your arse.”
He stops and lets the silence linger.
“How old are you?”
Douglas refrains from answering.
Eric perseveres, “How old are you, Douglas?”
Douglas is reluctant to respond, but offers, “Twenty-three.”
“How old do you think I am?”
Douglas shrugs and answers, “Thirty.”
“Forty-one. What do you reckon, pretty good for my age?”
No answer.
“Well, I think I do. Anyway, I digress. Every single day, Douglas, I have to deal with customers from all walks of life. Different cultures, and backgrounds. I have people complaining, arguing, fighting and stealing things.”
Douglas looks away.
Eric is up in his chair and continues, “Every single day I have managers increasingly shedding their responsibilities over to me. colleagues who are colluding against me, who are constantly campaigning to get rid of me. I have hours and hours’ worth of meaningless paperwork to do. Every single day.”
Eric stands and rests his hands on the table. “And on top of all that I get…” He mimics derisively, “I must have thought I put them there.” He then yells, “Can you tell me what that is?” Eric reenacts the shrugging of the shoulders, exaggerating the facial expression. “Are you some kind of moron? I don’t get paid enough to cop this rebel without a cause crap from a twenty-three-year-old punk like you.”
Eric sits back in his chair. Douglas is still, hardly breathing.
“I’ve been watching you, Douglas, for weeks. It pains me to the depth of my stomach to watch you walk. It’s not humanly possible to walk as slow as you. You’d never catch a train on time because you would be too slow to get to it.” He gets up and simulates walking very slowly, again exaggerating every move. “It is excruciating, watching you walk from one end of the lounge to the other. I have to look away to avoid getting heartburn.” Eric stops for a moment and studies Douglas who appears dazed and stunned.
“I know that you’re going to think that I’m some fuck wit as soon as you walk out of this office. You know what?
Eric waits for an answer. He gets none.
“I couldn’t care less, because if you do not improve a hundred and fifty per cent from the moment you walk out of that door you won’t be here for much longer. When I see you next I want you to be walking as fast as in the end credits on the Benny Hill show.”
Douglas snaps out of his stupor. “What’s that?”
“Benny Hill?” Eric smiles pleasantly, “70’s British comedy show, quite funny and very popular at the time. At the end of every episode, there’s a sped-up chase scene. Get it out on DVD, the best of Benny Hill, you’ll see what I’m talking about. From now on that is how I want to see you walk and work. So I’ll be watching you. I’ll be looking when you least expect it. I’ll be around monitoring everything you do. Now get out of here and give it a hundred and fifty per cent.”
Douglas stands up and sullenly walks towards the door. Just as he’s shutting the door… Eric restates, “And remember … Benny Hill.”
The door shuts.
Eric exhales and sits for a long moment in his chair. After a minute spent being distant and meditative, he shifts behind the table, exhales once more and shakes his head. Eric reaches over to his laptop, pulls it closer and begins typing into it.
He types into the keyboard… I am forwarding my resignation…
Douglas enters the bathroom. He appears distressed as he fights back tears as he stands alone with his arms crossed and looking down at his feet.
He starts to cry.
At that point, Eric also enters the bathroom to find Douglas standing there brooding. Douglas wipes his eyes with his hand but avoids looking in Eric’s direction. Eric watches Douglas for a brief moment and then goes to leave. He stops and points to Douglas. “Don’t forget, Benny Hill.”
Josh and Timothy, both in their early twenties are sitting behind the table looking insolent and defiant.
Douglas, older and much more mature, hovers above them, his anger palpable. “You can at least look at me when I’m speaking to you.”
They both instantly look up to the responsible, overworked and intimidating young manager.
“You two guys don’t want to work here is that it?”
Josh and Timothy become alert.
“Yeah,” says Josh.
“We do,” says Timothy”
Douglas glares at them and shouts, “NO, YOU DON’T.” He then composes himself, “Do me a favour, can you check my forehead? Have I got fucking idiot written on it because I can’t tell? Check properly.”
All myths and legends are connected to reality in some way, rooted in truth primarily as a storytelling technique employed by ancient and modern societies in an attempt to understand the universe around them, and to explain and justify things like morality, virtues, suffering, death, love, and war.
From King Perseus of Argos to Achilles, the king of the Myrmidons, politics and religion played a prominent role in mythmaking, legitimizing a leader’s claim to the throne. Whether it be asserting divine birth heritage or having heroic deeds attributed to them, a powerful ruling family can use this type of demigod hero narrative to secure their authority.
Of all the tropes, the ‘Last of a Kind’ concept is one of that rare theme, plot and character devices that has evolved into a mythical existence with one perfect master stroke. Richard Matheson’s classic vampire novel towers over them all. ‘I Am Legend (1954)’ is an ingenious hybrid of two previous classics, such as Mary Shelley’s ‘The Last Man (1826)’ and Bram Stoker’s ‘Dracula (1897)’. Vampirism and plague, a combination that captures the definitive pretext for a last man alive narrative, grounding the myth of the supernatural with the reality of pathogens.
Matheson also deploys another trope in the finale of the story, one that is more devastating in its social commentary. The vampires, the pandemic, and the last man on Earth are just the setup for the novella’s central message, and it’s the one element shunned by all the film adaptations to date.
For many readers, the field of economics might seem like dry, analytical territory, a realm of graphs, supply curves, and impenetrable jargon. And let’s be honest: most literary enthusiasts, and even a fair number of science fiction fans, probably tune out at the mention of GDPs or fiscal policy. Yet, when wielded thoughtfully, economics can become one of the most fascinating and transformative tools in speculative storytelling. In fact, some of the best science fiction ever written stands out precisely because it dares to construct alternative financial systems and economic frameworks—frameworks that both challenge our current paradigm and make us question the very fabric of our lives.
Works of art are no longer produced to quench a bored populace, who thirst for the type of content that frees them from their mundane lives, enhancing their outlook on life with fascinating stories, old and new, inspiring them to understand their lives and the world they live in.
Post-2016, works of art have degenerated into force-fed garbage that nobody wants, needs or trusts anymore. Deranged by political agenda or succumbing to incompetence, producers still want your money but aren’t willing or capable of delivering what the consumer wants.
These two symptoms have become a kind of cultural disease that seems to have blossomed in the last decade. It has infected everything, killing lots of film franchises along the way and making the movie-going experience a sour, unappealing, cynical enterprise. Who wants to consume something they haven’t ordered? Who wants to be insulted? Or attacked? Who chooses to be ripped off?
Nobody.
The screen adaptation of Niel Gaiman’s ‘American Gods’ is one of those stories that’s come out at the wrong time and has suffered as a consequence. It had everything going for it. The source material had it all; an interesting premise, exploring the old gods, traditions and myths, wondering about the backwaters of America warring against the new, contemporary deities. The book celebrated the diverse cultural heritage of migrants and natives. It poked fun at the soulless modern world. It questioned faith and religion without demeaning them. Its characters were interesting, its backstories rich, and the plot meandering yet riveting, how can these elements not be transferred to the screen?
Having finished watching three seasons, I can say they did succeed. The casting can’t be faulted. The visuals and cinematography match the book as if the book was a novelisation of the series. The soundtrack faired even better. Even the title credits are still watchable after twenty episodes in.
What hamstrings this is the constant shoehorning of hamfisted and on-the-nose political and corporate propaganda, the type of garbage that the plot and consumers can do without.
The God of Propaganda
Media and entertainment have always been skewered by propaganda, especially in times of war. How many twentieth-century war movies were pumped out since World War 1 when politicians and generals learned how to weaponize the medium? From My Four Years in Germany (1918) to Battleship Potemkin (1926) to John Wayne’s The Green Berets (1968), propaganda films were geared to persuade an audience into supporting a war against a foreign ‘enemy’ nation. Even anti-war propaganda movies were made, such as Civilization (1916).
To go to war or not.
To fight a cause or not.
To be decent human beings or not to be.
To make a propaganda film or write a propaganda novel, or not to.
There is nothing bad or wrong with creating material that invokes a certain reaction from a consumer. Bad-intentioned players do it, and so do well-intentioned players. The consumer is left making the decision on how to interpret the emotional and fictionised factual information presented in the work. Audiences and readers want to be challenged morally and intellectually, but not always. Sometimes, they just want to be entertained. A skilled creative, or a skilled propagandist, would know how to strike this balance between propaganda and storytelling.
The keyword here is skilled.
The golden rule any skilled propagandist knows is not to attack or insult your audience because doing so divides and antagonises your audience against each other. Propaganda is a weapon first and foremost. It is effective in uniting a group of people against another group of people. Pointed in the wrong direction, it splits a group of people into factions. Vilification is the master tool, the mechanism that drives, points and fires this weapon. Amateurs and morons should not play with such things, and yet for the past decade, they insist that they do.
The God of Stereotypes, Bigotry and Intolerance.
Interpreting the novel to the screen wasn’t enough for the producers, instead, they endeavoured, with Niel Gaiman’s blessing mind you, to make sure that the viewer’s morality and prejudices were given a health check. So they decided to fight stereotypes, bigotry and intolerance with more stereotypes, bigotry and intolerance.
Season 1 plodded along fine, our protagonist set out on an adventure, just like in the novel. Its two characters, Shadow Moon and Mr Wedensday grow on you thanks to the sublime performances of Ricky Whittle and Ian McShane. Then, halfway through, the showrunners decide to attack conservative Christians, depicting them as mass murderers mowing down illegal immigrants at the Rio Grande, even gunning down Mexican Jesus in the process. There is a message in there somewhere, I suppose.
Guns are bad. Religious folk are bad.
The Texans are bad.
Then to tie in with the anti-gun theme, the episode concludes with Shadow and Wednesday taking a detour from the novel to go and see Vulcan, who runs a factory making guns, in a town populated by Nazis. In the novel, Gaiman refrained from using Greek and Roman mythology as characters, so watching the show culturally appropriating Vulcan/Hephaestus and turning him into a fascist god was cringe upon cringe.
The success of the novel and the film adaptation hinges on the fact that it depicts these gods living in the real world. Nazi midwestern towns and a murderous Texan posse are not reality. But the producers seem to not care, politics supersedes art, or they don’t know how to get the same message across without being so hamfisted about it.
The God of Racism
An interesting debacle that showcases the hypocrisy of identity politics is the firing of Orlando Jones, who played the mesmerising Mr Nancy/Anansi, an angry African god who lashes out against the enslavement of his worshippers. Based on West African folklore, this trickster spider deity gave blistering speeches condemning the fate of black slaves, but the vitriol and anger make sense in context to the character. This is one pissed-off deity and it made for interesting viewing. Yet, the producers of the show decided to sideline the character, going as far as firing Jones for not toning down the spider god. They didn’t even pay the man for the writing work he did on his character plus several other characters.
Get it, the producers go out of their way to virtue signal about inclusiveness, shoehorn black actors in minor roles, they even have extras talking about how their grandmother became the first district attorney, but it comes to exploiting black talent, they exploit them and then dump them. This hypocrisy bleeds into the series and hinders every aspect of the artistry.
The God of Cultural Appropriation
Yes, have a pre-Islamic deity in the show. Throw in a devout Muslim into the mix. Sure, make them gay. But focusing the entire story arc on the relationship between the Jinn and the gay cab driver shows that the producers don’t give the slightest fuck about insulting the world’s 1.9 billion mostly conservative Muslims.
What makes this even more indigestible, is the fact that this story arc goes absolutely nowhere. The Salim character does nothing in the series and contributes nothing to the story. Learns nothing. He simply hooks up with a Jinn, pines over him through three seasons, and then gets dumped by the Jinn.
The leprechaun, Mad Sweeney can get a strong and powerful backstory, so why can’t the Jinn get one? There’s enough lore around these supernatural beings to tell a thousand and one tales, so tell a story and get the whiny, dweeby cab driver involved in an interesting adventure somehow, give his life meaning, instead of giving a meaningless journey that ends in an orgy and him returning to pray to Allah.
The God of Sexual Diversity
Ta Yeh is a Chinese deity who manages love and sex between homosexual people, giving shelter to those persecuted. Known as The Rabbit God, this deity gets a mention towards the end of the series, for about 21 seconds. Instead, the writers delve into every clique their ignorance could muster. There’s no tale about family, kindness, or loyalty, it’s just glamourized sex and debauchery that seeks to rival parties thrown by Freddy Mercury, just to shoehorn in a plot device to provide Salim with his pointless orgy.
It is what it is.
When pushing agendas for the sake of pushing them, creatives tend to expose their incompetence and their own bigotries. Shows like this, which are based on good source material, are watchable and entertaining if you can ignore the tactless grandstanding. The elements of story, casting, cinematography and music are there.
There are timeless ways of pushing propaganda that work. The crux of the story must be the agenda, whatever it is. Weave the plot around it, bond the characters naturally to the issues or points of view the creatives want to take and get the message forward. What you don’t do is get an existing property that has nothing to do with the political objective and inject it with it. It’s obvious, super cringe and counterproductive to whatever cause is at stake.
The point of propaganda is to get everyone on the same page, not split them up into warring factions. So this is actually not propaganda at all. Wokeness is a strategically placed social cancer designed to tear culture apart, escalate the hate and loathing instead of easing it, and indulge the prejudices lingering in all humans to the point of mindless, irrational frenzy.
The good news is, the market will eventually correct this, as it always does.