Davies Funny Little Games

1. Auflage 2023
ISBN: 978-1-915229-77-9
Verlag: Clink Street Publishing
Format: EPUB
Kopierschutz: 6 - ePub Watermark

E-Book, Englisch, 458 Seiten

A sensational and ground breaking expose revealing a wealth of new information confirming the identity and modus operandi of Jack the Ripper, a senior Freemason with Royal connections, and founder of a local Vigilance Association based in St Jude's Church in the heart of Whitechapel, providing the perfect cover for night time operations. Suffering from a lifetime obsessional hatred of prostitutes, he exorcised his trauma by composing secret anagrams of his own name from the names of his selected victims and the murder locations. Irrefutable evidence based on indisputable facts. ONE OF THE BEST RESEARCHED AND ILLUMINATING BOOKS ON THE INFAMOUS MURDERER. A COMPELLING READ. Robert Smith. Owner of The Diary of Jack the Ripper.

This is the first book in a two part series about the identity of Jack the Ripper by the writer Philip Davies.

Autoren/Hrsg.

Davies, Philip

Leseproben

The Museum Of Anatomy
In Church Alley in the 1850’s, the pub next door would have been little more than a nuisance to the Maybricks. The devoutly religious family had been dedicated musicians for at least three generations, with the boys’ grandfather and father serving as parish clerks to St. Peter’s Church. Young Michael was a highly intelligent and gifted musician, readily adept at composing sacred music and performing organ recitals, and, at the age of fifteen, the child genius was honoured by the appointment as organist to St. Peter’s Church, a prestigious but solitary position for one so young. The boys first attended Manesty’s Lane School, which was diametrically opposite the church in School Lane, and the short walk straight after school to the solace of the church organ would have been a daily routine for Michael. Even more time was spent there at weekends, when, at meal times, mother Susannah would send one of the other boys across the church yard to call him home. Michael’s capacity for composition and creativity singled him out from other children. Michael was different, enjoying the solitude of the church, where on Sundays the congregation would openly express their adulation, bolstering his self-belief in an otherwise lonely world, which, strangely enough, suited him. All his time was spent close to home and church, and even his sheet music came from just over the road at No. 63 Church Street, where Stephen Adams ran the local booksellers and stationery business. Stephen was ten years older than Michael, and evidently quite a rapport was built up between the two. Neither would have known at the time that the name of Stephen Adams would eventually achieve national renown and international acclaim. Not for Michael the confines of a small room at home, with ill-fitting sash window overlooking a noisy post office yard, but lofty stained glass windows, and hours of solitary single- minded dedication. The church organ was his private sanctuary, his seat of meditation, where he would privately share deep thoughts with guiding spirits, his divine inspiration. Michael was very special, and knew it. In 1860 there arrived in Liverpool a flamboyant American showman by the name of ‘Dr.’ Joseph Woodhead, master of chicanery and purveyor of snake oil remedies for all ills, bringing with him ‘The Museum of Anatomy’, which he located at 29 Paradise Street, less than one minute’s walk away from St. Peter’s Church. Amongst items of morbid interest displayed in the museum were realistic wax models of naked young women, with innards exposed to reveal the structure of the internal organs, which at set times would be taken apart and re-assembled by an assistant, accompanied by a medical dialogue. Ladies were admitted for a three hour period on Tuesdays and Fridays, and, needless to say, objections were raised by some as to the pornographic nature of the displays. Joseph Woodhead had clearly anticipated this hurdle, and complemented the ‘medical’ displays with puritanical religious references relating to the purification of the soul, allowing patrons to adhere to the narrow path of righteousness, whilst savouring the prurient delights on offer. ‘If any man defile the Temple of God, him will God destroy.’ Wax model with moveable viscera. Graphic displays were for the enlightenment of the soul, rather than titillation. In an age when the display of a bare ankle was regarded as risqué, the wax ladies of the museum proved a great success, and the spiritually enlightened male population of Liverpool, young and old, ensured a regular income for Joseph Woodhead. Further along the corridor from the anatomical displays were graphic sections relating to venereal disease and masturbation, referred to as ‘onanism’. The graphic dialogue reads as follows: Would there be no necessity of speaking on this delicate subject, but must we, for the sake of mere delicacy, or even from higher consideration of interest or self-applause, conceal from ourselves and others, the latent cause of misery and death to tens of thousands? The frightful consequences of self- pollution who can depict? Continued weariness, weakness, aversion to exercise and business, dimness and dizziness of sight, paleness, impotency, barrenness, palpitation of the heart, trembling, loss of memory, are they not fearful, and do they not proceed from this cause? Wax model with moveable viscera. Commencing in youth, continued at school, and persevered in maturity, this dreadful pernicious habit makes its inroads on the constitution just when the powers of life would otherwise have been fully and happily developed. How sedulously should parents – the guardians of youth – our teachers – and all concerned in the future welfare of society, keep their guard over this evil. In many respects it is several degrees worse than common whoredom. It excites the power of nature to undue action; hence the muscles become flaccid and feeble, the tone and natural action of the nerves are relaxed and impeded, the judgment perverted, the will indeterminate and wholly without energy; the eyes appear languishing and without expression, and the countenance vacant; appetite ceases, for the stomach is incapable of performing its proper office. Nutrition fails, tremors, fears and terrors are generated, and thus the wretched victim drags out existence, till even before his time to arrive at man’s estate, with a mind often debilitated, even to a state of idiotism, his worthless body tumbles into the grave, and his guilty soul is hurled into the awful presence of God. Could the above explain the high male mortality rate in Liverpool? A visit to the museum must have put the fear of God into the minds of young men living within the pious moral constraints of Victorian England. Many a sleepless night would have been spent by the more impressionable of the museum’s younger clientele, educated in the principals of religion, yet torn by the primaeval need to procreate …. or even to kiss a girl? ‘Worse than common whoredom’? Was this not tacit acknowledgement that common whoredom was more acceptable than the tempting alternative of ‘onanism’? Did Michael visit the museum in early adulthood, purely for educational purposes, of course, befriending the assistant and even being allowed the opportunity of intimately examining the internal parts, dissembling and reassembling, familiarising himself with the anatomy of the lifeless female forms? Had he taken seriously Woodhead’s nonsensical rhetoric on onanism? Did he venture forth late one night to taste the forbidden fruit of a Maggie May, strolling under the gas lights of Lime Street in the city centre, or loitering around the dark dockland honeypots of Brick Street and Jamaica Street. He would certainly not have been the first young man to give it a try, followed a few days later by another visit the Museum of Anatomy, only this time to study the terrifying consequences of venereal disease. 261. – Face of an old bachelor: a confirmed onanist. He became idiotic, and rapidly sank into second childhood. (What a fearful account he will have to give of himself at the judgement day). 262. – Face of a man shewing the evil effects of secondary symptoms of syphilis. 263. – Syphilis case. This model of the head represents the final and most severe form of secondary symptoms, with the palate lost, the bones of the nose destroyed, and the whole system a perfect mass of corruption. Inside the hyper-active mind of the young musical genius exploded the worst trauma imaginable. Curse the whore! The family doctor would invariably have been a member of the congregation, and certainly not one whose confidentiality could be trusted on this delicate subject. Various forms of sexually transmitted disease were on offer from the seductive street-corner sirens of late night Liverpool, resulting in severe discomfort and impotency, and whilst antibiotics and psychotherapy are readily available now, in the 1850’s neither was an option. Unbeknown to the victims of the day, syphilis would sometimes lie dormant within the body only to cause severe psychological trauma in later life. Symptoms of neurosyphilis can appear decades after infection, and can cause lasting issues including general paresis, leading to health problems including paranoia, mood swings, emotional troubles and personality changes. Teresa Burger. University of Illinois....