HANG THE BASTARD. Notes By Uncle Monty.

Notes By Uncle Monty
"When I Met Mr. Cooke"
By Uncle Monty
Part Two
Online News Report from Reuters
'Boss of Body Parts Ring Gets 18-54 years'
By Christine Kearney
NEW YORK (Reuters) - A New Jersey dentist behind a scheme
to steal body parts from corpses, including that of British journalist
Alistair Cooke, was sentenced on Friday to a minimum of 18 years
and a maximum of 54 years in prison.
Michael Mastromarino, 44, in March admitted to leading a
$4.6 million operation that stole body parts from funeral
homes in New York, New Jersey and Pennsylvania.
The ring dismembered more than 1,000 cadavers in
unsanitary conditions, and sold them to doctors who
transplanted them into patients.
"I am sorry for the emotional pain I have caused,"
Mastromarino told the court, repeating an apology he
made to victims and relatives of the dead earlier this month.
State Supreme Court Judge John Walsh made no comment
as he sentenced Mastromarino, who had pleaded guilty
to body stealing, reckless endangerment and enterprise
"His sick, disgusting and appalling actions all in the name
of greed have devastated my family," Dayna Ryan, 44,
told the court. Ryan contracted Hepatitis B when she
was a recipient of stolen body parts during a lower spine
As part of the scheme, a team of so-called cutters
removed bones, skin and tendons in an unsanitary
embalming room, prosecutors said.
"He fully recognized the gravity of what he has done,"
Mastromarino's lawyer Mario Gallucci said outside court.
"He cut some corners and that is why he is here today."
There are three co-defendants. One pleaded guilty, another
was convicted at trial and the third is awaiting trial.
Cooke, the former newspaper foreign correspondent and host
of the PBS television show "Masterpiece Theatre" and BBC's
"Letter from America," died in 2004 at age 95 in New York.
(Editing by Michelle Nichols and Xavier Briand)
© Thomson Reuters 2008 All rights reserved
Alistair Cooke as I remember meeting him
By Uncle Monty
Part Two
I bumped into Mr. Alistair Cooke at the height of his fame
in America at Colonial Williamsburg’s Scribner Bookshop in
1979. He and I were browsing book titles of our own particular
book taste and desire inside Scribner’s. I recognised him right
away, especially having watched his extraordinary and great
"Masterpiece Theatre" series on then PBS-TV for years.
"Upstairs, Downstairs" and "Disraeli," are among my fav-
ourites that Alistair superably hosted at the beginning
of each progran series.
I also regularly listened to his “Letter from
America” on the BBC World Service by shortwave radio.
We had a delightful chat and encounter and he told me that
his first love was always radio despite his then growing US
television fame. His marvellous and imbued photographic
essay of "Alistair Cooke's America ,” was an ongoing best
seller for sure. Almost professorial in his manner, Mr. Cooke
was a humble gentle person and gentleman who didn’t let his
fame go to his expatriate head. His soft speaking style was
exactly the same as I had heard of him on those many
radio programs of his. He knew more about America and
Americans than any living Englishman of his long broadcast-
ing day. He knew and interviewed every US President since
Franklin Delano Roosevelt to William Jefferson Clinton.
Alistair's success was not only due to him being so
urbane and erudite, but because he was also so strictly
apolitical -in his first class reports and presentations.
When I read of his death at age 95 some 4 years ago, I
thought to myself what a wonderful and long life he’d
had. I didn’t feel sad at his passing, only glad that I’d
at least met him so memorably at Virginia's Old
Williamsburg of so many years now past.
Then a few years after his death, I by chance read a news
story about his Episcopal Church clergy daughter – who I
never knew even existed -- and of her personal horror of
what the bastard Michael Mastromarino and his macabre
body-parts gang had done to her dead English father upon
his death in America. They'd cut his aged body into "sellable"
parts like he was some kind of animal instead of a respected
humanbeing. Talk of the Chinese doing that to their executed
prisoners -- running into as many as a 1,000 per year -- and
then selling their body parts for exprimentation and medical
transplants is something else. But for the New World to be
doing such by private business operators like Mastromarino
is equally as sickening as the Chinese in their vicious and
godless practice of selling body parts of their executed.
I was amazed that nobody at the funeral home seemed to
know or care of who Alistair Cooke was or of his fascinating
life as a noted and fine journalist on both sides of the Big
Atlantic pond for close to 60 years. To take a dead 95 year
old man and then hack his cancered dead body to pieces for
whatever organs or parts they could salvage and sell is to my
mind truly diabolical, sick and evil from beginning to end. It
makes me want to vomit even as I write this story about
the wicked and bizarre fate of Mr. Alistair Cooke. They
even altered his death certificate from age 95 to 85 so
they could sell his unfit and cancerous bones for profit.
Greed always drives the greedy from human decency.
My first instinct upon reading about Mastromarino-
The-Butcher was to say to myself: “Hang The Bastard.”
Along with his gang of bloody evil cutters. Saying
sorry before he was sentence doesn’t cut it one bit.
“Hang The Bastard," still keeps coming to my head even
though I strongly oppose capital punishment I just couldn’t
stop myself from reacting and saying such to myself.
How we mistreat the dead, tells us something about how
we mistreat the living in cultures that neither respect
the living nor the dead. The more death we have, the less
respect for human life is all around us. The hideous story
of what they did to Mr. Cooke for greed and dirty
money tells us of how we cannot even trust those with
the dead body of those we loved, or respected so much,
without fear of such evil bastards like Mastromarino
getting out their blood-dripping butcher knives ready to
desecrate yet another member of the the human dead.
The most deadly animals around us are always other
humans and not the animals of God's given grace.
I still keep saying: "HANG THE BASTARD."
The Life of Mr. Cooke
Peace everybody, Uncle Monty.
+7th Sunday after Trinity, 2oo8.
America’s Gun Culture:
Start Them Young,” so they do and say.


I'd Rather Not Have Campbell Soup. By Uncle Monty.

I'd Rather Not Have Campbell Soup.
By Uncle Monty.
Nelson Mandela, the revered and living Icon of Africa,
has seemingly and rightly dropped her from the line-up
of stars at today’s big 90th Birthday Concert in honour
of him at London’s Hyde Park Corner.
She has also been uncomplimentarily called the
“black version” of the catty, nasty, clawing, white
“Lady” Heather Mills of the Paul McCartney
saga and divorce fame.
The dreadful female pair could easily be called
sisters-in-arms for all the wrong reasons for both of
them have tempestuous temperaments that would
“drive hornets from their nests.” And, they both seem
to wallow in bad press and being truly ugly and
offensive to all who should cross them for whatever
reason (s) come to their conceited heads.
Both are truly embittered women.
So, is she a supermodel or a superbitch? Well, the
answer is both. I like the supermodel, but I don’t like
the superbitch. That’s why I’d rather not have
Campbell soup, today.
I’m not talking here of terrible Heather, if you
haven’t already guessed who else I’m referring to. So
before I name the other name for those of you who don't
know who I am talking about, I think it’s best to then
quote her full foul and filthy mouth and mind by her out
and out anti-white rage. So here we goooooooo …
“You blonde bitch, I’m going to screw you
like a motherf**ker.”
“F**k you, f**k you, find my f**king bags.”
“You can’t f**king touch me, my cousin is
(with) Scotland Yard.”
She said she couldn’t be arrested by the police bec-
uase she was black and was being targeted due to
her being black.
However, in court, she pleaded guilty to assaulting,
kicking and spitting at the Brit cops, who she
obviously hates if they're white and in blue.
Naomi Campbell is a dreadful woman no matter if she’s
black, white, pink or blue. Born at London’s Borough of
Streatham and age 38, she needs help fast before she goes
into another rage based on her private and public pattern of
past confrontational behaviour from New York to London.
It is a disgusting and disturbing tale of uncontrollable rage,
head on assault, and language fit only for the gutter, is she.
She blows her top just like that once something or other
gets her screaming mad. She's done it to her New York
maid and to the BA pilot Mark Sutherland, who she cornered
in his cockpit as she went blitz at all of those all around her.
She even spat on innocent airline passenagers, too.
She clearly needs lessons in anger management. But if I
had my way, I’d first bang her up in solitary confinement
for a couple of months at the Holloway Prison for Women
so that she could truly vent her anti-white rage in full.
Then she could see what kind of supermodel and superbitch
she really is. After that, her anger management treatment
should begin in full earnest. Right now, she thinks she's above
the law and that her fame (or infamy) somehow grants her
the right not to be treated like anybody else who behaves
like her does. She believes, too, I suspect, that she can use
her blackness as a weapon against those who happen to be
white authority figures, who all too often cow out of fear
of being branded racists. To Naomi Campbell, all whites
are innately racist. She just then eggs them on ... The
fact of the matter is the supermodel and the superbitch
is a reverse racist all by herself it seems to me. She's
deeply anti-Caucasian and anti-British to boot despite
being a Black Briton by birth that she is. So are all
blacks innately anti-white? That's a good question
for Ms. Campbell to be asked of her to answer ...
The revered Nelson Mandela in London yesterday.
And so, nasty Naomi will not be at Nelson
Mandela's Birthday Concert in London today.
It seems he's had a falling out with her over her
latest rage that has propelled her now to greater
public infamy and dishonour more than ever.
But after all is said and done about her, I'd
rather not have Campbell soup. Would you?
So gooooooood riddance, then to you Naomi
along with that other terrible woman called
"Lady" Heather Mills. You deserve each other,
don't you? It's all black and white, too.
Bye, bye, from Uncle Monty.
+Rainbow's End, 2oo8.


Homeless Street Papers of the World. By Uncle Monty.

Homeless Street Papers of the World.
Story and Photos By Uncle Monty.
Part Two of Two.
Listen up homeless street vendors of the world. Don’t think you’re
the only soul in the world flogging your street rag, ‘cause you ain’t.
Listen up then to some of the names or titles of street papers I
found from around the world at the 13th International Conference
of Network Street Papers (INSP).
Hold your breath now, here we go with some of the street
publications with all sorts of odd and interesting names that
you’ve never perhaps heard of before until now …
Megafon, Driewekelijks, La Calle, Megaphone, Boca De Rua,
Gazeta Uliczna, StreetWise, Kralji Ulice, Hecho, Trott War, Donau
Strudl, Terra Dimezzo, Hempels, OCAS, Asphalt, L’Itineraire,
Binbhi Bicti, and Z.
These 17 street periodicals thus named herein
are just a fraction of the more than 80 other street sheets published
around the world each month or weekly or whenever for homeless
street folkz to sell to try and make themselves some legitimate
bread or money or dough or greenbacks on the mean and
fraught streets of the world.
Argentina's Patricia Merkin of Hecho.
Globally, there’s about a quarter of million homeless street
vendors on six continents. Twenty countries within Europe
have over 40 street papers covering about 18 languages in all.
While America has the most street rags of any single country
in the world at some 20 right now. Asia has the least number
with only three countries claiming street paper status. And in
the whole of Africa, only four nations there can claim weekly
or monthly street sheets. Nigeria, Africa’s largest country,
is soon to start its own street publication within the next
couple of months so its representative Yomi Kuku (shown
below) told me at the street paper international conference
held at Scotland’s biggest city of Glasgow. It is here that the
world headquarters of the International Network of Street
Papers (INSP) is also based. In the same Scottish city at the
same time as the INSP Conference, there was also underway
The 2oo8 Civicus World Assemby, which I briefly popped in
to see, and Refugee Week Scotland ’08 under the banner
“Different Pasts, Shared Future.” Who needs anymore of such
bullshit like that? The UK is already swamped with too many
so-called “refugees” and useless Third Worlders without any
more of them invading us … I’m sick of such a bangwagon of
bloody bleeding hearts and Holy-Than-Thou Tear Jerkers
that insist we take more and more of the world’s unwanted
refugees and parasitic immigrants. Last year, the UK had
over 280.000 asylum seekers to feed, house and shelter
while their applications for asylum is under legal
consideration. They are a growing and constant
threat to the native homeless, whose rights are
being ignored and shafted to accommodate and appease
more iffy refugees and god forsaken foreigners. With all
intent and purpose, the British Government under New
Labour has made the United Kingdom the open dumping
ground for the swarming masses of immigrant locusts
from all of Black Africa. We cannot move for them.
Enough is by far enough.
Brasil's Maria Margareth Lins Rossal of Boca de Rua.
Homeless street papers vary widely in editorial content,
sterling page design, printing quality, artistic layout,
innovative graphics, outstanding photography, ongoing
circulation, public status, story focus, and street vendor
presence. In thumbing thru some of the world’s street
papers, I couldn’t help but notice that most of them were
a standard 30 pages in length, while a couple had only an
8-page publication and few with over 45 pages. The majority
were monthlies. Stylistically, some were high gloss magazines
and others more like local newsletters. Few if any of the street
papers were much older than 10 year old since they started to
first hit the streets. Most all of them carried a social message
of needing to rid the world of homelessness. Yet, ironically, the
rise of more street papers is circumstantial evidence of more
global homelessness rather the less at this first decade of the
21st century. And the more political the publication, the more
left leaning it seemed to be. The most expensive counties
to buy street papers was in England, Scotland, Wales and
Ireland. The cheapest countries was Russia, Burundi,
India, and Argentina. Advertisements and ad revenues
were the mainstay of the world street papers I informally
reviewed, although one or two were completely ad free.
One thing that was consistent, no matter what or
where the street sheet, was news features or profiles
about their own street vendors. But for heaven sake, that
should be how it is anyway. To ignore your vendors, is at
the peril of the publication’s life and limb and the liveli-
hood and well being of the vendors themselves. There is
a tendency to give lip service only to such vendors, es-
pecially when the street paper becomes more part of the
established status quo or it moves from its original roots
of subculture to that of a mainstream publishing organ.
The more successful the paper, the less it becomes a
street paper per se. Rather, it then veers, or even
joins, the ranks of the horse-blinking Bourgeoisie.
Nigeria's Yomi Kuku of Search and Groom
One of my concerns in attending the INSP Conference
was the question of profits for the vendors. Most only get
a slither of the profits from such street papers. I think it is
about time that vendors are included in profit sharing so
that the more profit the paper makes, the more income the
vendor gets. Some street sheets are more profitable than
others, obviously. Some operate on a shoe string, while a
few others are annually a multi-million dollar corporate
operation at where the vendors work tirelessly like under-
paid and under-appreciated bumble bees for the Big
Queen Bee. And the more profits she seems to make, the
less seems to be given to the street vendors. It should be
the other way around, shouldn’t it? The more profits the
corporate entity makes, the more should go into the
pockets of the vendors. But I think in the distant future,
homeless street vendors as we know of them today will
ultimately be dispensed with on the streets or reduced
in substantial numbers.
Some of the INSP conference delegates.
Let's look now at the situation for the hoped-for street
vendors and first street paper in murderous Zimbabwe
under the vile madman of Robert Mugabe, who should
have been arrested and detained when he and his vicious
cronies left the cruel country in their audacity to attend
the UN Food Conference in Rome just last month. Mugabe
should have then been charged under a prepared criminal
warrant from the International Court of Justice in The
Hague for national genocide of his own people and crimes
against humanity. Instead they let him "escape" back to
Zimbabwe to commit even further outrageous crimes
and to steal the election from MorganTsvangirai, who has
now fled to the Danish Embassy for his own safety from
Mugabe's murderous mob.
Such then in the present backdrop of the hopes of those
seeking to begin the first street sheet in the troubled
Southern African country that continues to move toward
a total Black Fascist Nation (BFN). In a prepared written
statement issued at the INSP Conference, the visa-barred
representatives from Zimbabwe stated a variety of
reasons why, for over a year now, they have striven "to
create a street paper that will assist the unemployed and
homeless members of the country's urban community"
without success due to the anti-media laws and internal
circumstances beyond their control. With hundreds of
thousands now homeless due the the violent actions and
so-called reforms of the Mugabe regime and its economic
and social destruction compounded each day, I cannot
imagine any kind of emerging street paper in Zimbabwe
until all that is presently endangering the stability of the
country is fixed for the better. Zimbabwe is an ongoing
nightmare that never seems to end as the world looks on
impotently at one of the world's tyrants that is Robert
Mugabe. Once the nightmare ends, then perhaps plans
to bring about a viable street paper will see the light of
day on the streets of Harare and elsewhere.
I now have a few closing thoughts on the 2oo8 INSP
Conference. First, it was well organised and profess-
ionally presented that was a credit to all those who
worked to bring the annual conference to the fore.
And secondly, of those who I met there, I was de-
lighted with meeting them. I would say they were a
credit to the world's street paper movement of which
they represented so well. For me as a street vendor, I
was glad to unofficially represent my fellow vendors,
from wherever and however they are, at the 13th
International Conference of homeless street papers
of the world. I hope, I represented them well.
Cheers everybody, Uncle Monty.
+St. John The Baptist, 2oo8.
I now leave you with a few other
images of mine of Scotland's Glasgow:
Scotland's Glasgow at Leigh Quay.
A Huge Community Ad for Glasgow2014

Street violinist at Glasgow's Sauchiehall St.


All, But The Street Vendors. By Uncle Monty.

All, But The Street Vendors.
Story and Photos By Uncle Monty.
Part One of Two
Not one of the thousands of street vendors of The Big Issue,
except me, was present at the five-day 13th International
Conference of Network Street Papers (INSP) held at Scotland’s largest
City of Glasgow. Not even the conference keynote speaker that was
The Big Issue co-founder and editor-in-chief John Bird was ever a
homeless street vendor as far as I know. Out of all the attendees I
randomly picked at the conference to ask them if they had been or
were homeless, I only found 1 out the 12 to 15 I asked telling me
they’d been homeless at some stage in their life.
Of the 6 or 7 delegates I asked, not a single one told me they’d been
a street vendor selling their street publication on the streets of the
country to which they represented at the conference. While over the
course of 15 years, according to The Big Issue Scotland, street vendors
in Scotland alone have earned a staggering £9.6 million (or over $US
20 million) by selling the Scottish edition of the street paper. Yet, not
a single street vendor was present as an official delegate or represent-
ative at the 2oo8 INSP conference that venued at Glasgow’s
august Mitchell Library.
There was John Bird puffing and panting as usual with his view
that there’s “a consirpacy to keep the poor” poor and to keep them
poor by UK government hand outs and welfare benefits to them. Then
he goes on about how it took him 20 whole years to get his own life
together. To him, the only way the homeless can become emancipated
from the streets is by them working in the open marketplace or better
still by selling The Big Issue. Looking fatter and older than ever, John
Bird was in his element of showmanship among the very friendly
conference toward him. He’s a Big Name, perhaps even bigger than
The Big Issue, among those who profit or want to profit from the
homeless and marginalized of the world.
He seemed, too, to think I was of no importance to him or The Big
Issue despite being one of his street vendors for over three years.
In the past, he’s been very warm and most welcoming to me.
But at the INSP Conference he seemed to resent my presence
for some reasons unbeknown to me, but presumably best known
to him. He didn’t speak to me, he only spoke at me as if I was
an inanimate object or an irritant flea. John’s little brother Peter
Bird was also among the 18-member Big Issue delegation, the
largest of all, at the conference ranging from Lisa Woodman,
publisher of the Big Issue; to its editor Charles Howgego to Ian
MacArthur, its group managing director; and to John Bird’s ever
present side kick, the ex-street vendor John Duffy, 53. He, Duffy,
is now newly based at The Big Issue Scotland at where his Misses,
he told me, is to join him there in the next two weeks from their
former home at England’s Ramsgate. My past harsh criticism of
Duffy, I suspect is one reason now for Bird’s aloofness and disrepect
to me … So what’s all of this got to do with an international confer-
ence on street papers, you may rightly ask? Well, plenty.
John Bird with INSP Conference host.
It’s all to do with the personalities and attitudes of those involved
in the street paper industry or socially-conscious enterprise.
All street publications evolve and revolve around the personality
and character of the editors or employees in charge of a particular
street paper. If we look at John Bird’s street mag--it reflects his
exclusive view and priority of the world of homelessness. In many
ways he is rather out of the loop of street homelessness after years
now being off the streets and therefore he's looking down from The
Ivory Tower he’s now built for himself over the past 17 years,
instead of looking up like most homeless folkz do. And so, The
Big Issue would be an entirely different publication, of course,
if his morose side kick John Duffy or John Bird’s own little
brother Peter were to suddenly be put in charge of running
such. Or if you or I were running such a street sheet we would
again be different to them. When John Bird told me at the con-
ference that he didn’t read any blogs, that reflects his personality,
too. If he doesn’t look at what others are writing, then that molds
his view of himself and less of others who write via their own
blogs like me. He doesn't have a blog himself, I guess. In all,
the best street papers are the ones that put personalities
aside and presents the raw reality of whatever are the
local circumstances and ongoing ingredients that confront the
issues and problems of homelessness, alienation, marginalization
and social deprivation. And, behind such publications there must
always be an acute and constant awareness of those many
homeless street vendors that provide the blood, guts, endurance
and lifeline of such publications. With "No Vendors, No Street Rag"
– period. A street paper conference without street vendors repre-
sented or given imput at such a conference is derelict by default
of all that it essentially stands for. It flies in the face of its public
rhetoric and stance on the issues of the homeless and the ancilliary
problems stemming from such societal questions and conditions.
Ricardo Grassi of Italy.
Officially opened by Scotland’s First Minister Alex Salmond
and the Lord Provost of Glasgow Bob Winter, the international
conference held 5 days of workshops and roundtable discussions
ranging from (shown above) Italian Ricardo Grassi’s ‘Promoting
your street paper as unique source of news and information’ to
American Joanne Zuhl’s ‘Catastrophic street paper disasters and
how to survive them’ to Dutch Jeroen de Rooij’s “Working positively
and effectively with Roma vendors” to Kenyan Clement Njoroge’s
and Zambian Samba Yonga’s ‘The unique role of street papers in
the Global South.” At Richaro Grassi’s workshop, I made an im-
promptu presentatioin and skit on being a Big Issue vendor.
Everybody there seemed to really enjoy what I had to say.
The key to being a street vendor is to poke fun at yourself
and at those who want to take pity on you. Pity is pitiful to me.
I don’t want your pity, I only want your respect and even better
your money, thank you very much. All too many street vendors
and those who work with them have lost the art of making
and poking fun at themselves and at others. They’re all full of
grimness, damnation and judgement. Pity them, I say.

Above: Glasgow’s Street Vendors Natalie Clubb and
Raymond Nesbitt with their pet dog “Kiz.”
During my conference break, I hit the streets of Glasgow at where my
own dad was born and raised more than one hundred years ago. It was,
however, my first visit to Scotland’s leading commercial centre that sits
on the River Clyde at Stratheclyde. The Gorbals district, once infamous
as the city’s dirty hole, has long been transformed much like New
Glasgow itself. Here the patron saint of the city is St. Mungo and with
its impressive cathedral thus named after the saint of the same name.

I tarried here and there until I happened upon Natalie Clubb and
Raymond Nesbitt at the Royal Exchange, who are ummarried partners
and street vendors of Big Issue Scotland. They were there with some
of their street friends and of one who I caught with his hand half way
in my jacket pocket trying to steal from me. After taking their
picture, Natalie suddenly became suspicious along with Raymond,
who demanded I show them my identification as Natalie in-
explicably grabbed my polariod of them (shown above) and
refused to give it back to me until I could prove I was indeed a
Big Issue vendor. They were unaware of the street papers
conference and Raymond remarked "that Big Issue never tells
us anything of what’s going on." I’ve found exactly the same
myself as a vendor. Luckily, I had my Big Issue badge with
me and both Natalie and Raymond soon apologised profusely
to me and she hugged me, too. That was nice and all was
forgiven. But I think it also tells us something about the
negative mindset and open fears of many vendors on the
streets. Natalie Clubb feels especially vunerable to chauvinistic
and sex-driven males who feel they can come on her like she is
a free gutter prostitute to satisfy their kinky tastes and crude
desires. I myself have even had a pimp once offer me a paid
role in some hetro/porno movie at London’s West End.
I fast told the creepy scumbag to go to hell for I am
old enough to be his grandfather, god damn him …


While in Glasgow, I also attended Scotland’s 2oo8
Voluntary Sector Fair held at The Gathering of which my
caption picture above shows it at its best, architecturally. It
almost looks like a miniature Sydney Opera House, doesn't it?
Yeeep … And, if you’ve been to one voluntary sector fair, you're
basically been to them all. They’re so uniformly boring, frankly.
The same was what I found at the Glasgow fair do, too. As for the
INSP conference, "All, But The Street Vendors" were there.
In my upcoming Part Two, I’ll present some of the other
individuals at the INSP Conference that will include
Brazil’s Maria Margareth Lins Rossal; Nigeria’s
Yomi Kuku, and Argentina's Patricia Merkin.

So stay tuned, everybody ...
Best regards, Uncle Monty.
+Fifth Sunday after Trinity, 2oo8.

Inside The 2oo8 INSP Conference.


Glasgow's Sunday Herald published my

comments prior to attending the INSP Conference:

Posted by: uncle monty, covent garden, central london.

on 5:51am Thu 19 Jun 08
i sell the big issue in london. i plan to attend the street papers conference for the first time. i am interested in helping vendors like me to make a greater profit from selling such street papers than those who publish and promote such for their own profit at the expense, all too often, of the street people. ironically, they talk of getting the homeless a "new life" off the streets, but the reality is they must still have the homeless to flog their papers and magazines on the streets of the world. as for the big issue founder john bird, he is in many ways a spokesman for those on "corporate welfare" more than for the homeless and/or vunerable street vendors like me. the problem is that such vendors can and are exploited, willingly or unwillingly, by the process and not the product. while i don't begrudge some of the aims or profit of most street paper publishers, i do begrudge their failure to provide safeguards for the health and work conditions on the streets, especially during the savage months of bitter winter and boiling summer heat at various locations around the world. the vendors are at the bottom of the totem pole and few, if any, are given a voice to challenge the way the "owners" of street papers do business with the vendors themselves. i sometimes only make a few quid a day, while the big whigs at the big issue continue to bathe in their fat bank accounts and charity status at the detriment of those exposed to the elements of street selling to the sometimes hostile or indifferent public that as a vendor i find is not that uncommon. if i am able, i shall raise some of the points i make here at the conference itself. my blog - http://thebiggerissue.org/ - covers a number of issue about those who are or have been homeless. truly, uncle monty. +before st. alban, 2oo8. ps. when i was asked by one of my customers if i worked for a charity, i said no! i then told her half-jokingly that i was, in fact, my own "walking, talking, two-legged charity." she then gave me ten quid for christmas after i said that!! bravo!!


Glasgow On My Mind. By Uncle Monty.

Glasgow On My Mind.
By Uncle Monty.
Glasgow is the place where my dad was born over
100 years ago. Yet, this is the first time I have visited the
Scottish city. I'm now here to attend the 13th International
Conference on Street Papers that will bring folkz from all
over the world to Glasgow. The aim of the conference is
to discuss issues surrounding street publications that are
flogged on the streets in around 43 countries by homeless
and vunerable people. I will have alot more to write about
once the conference comes to close this weekend.
So for now, cheers from Scotland, Uncle Monty.


Gone Now Are They Forevermore. By Uncle Monty.

Abney Park visitors count for many each day
He was a drug addict for years was the young married
29 year-old Dave Johnson who was having a quiet beer
with another visitor Ian Smith, 44, who is an Edinburgh-
born stonemason. We had quite a good chat we did. Dave,
now drug-free, is a fellow Anglican of mine with two little
daughters of his. While Ian is a member of the biblically-
ultraconservative Free Presbyterian Church. At Abney Park,
the unemployed and beer drinking Eastern Europeans
males walk there to shot the breeze and to lazy about all
day and every day it seems. So do some English on govern-
ment job seekers allowance who are hardly looking for a job,
obviously, if they dilly-dally all day long at Abney Park.
Geographically, many of the pathways have no directional
signs and so it is easy to go around and around in circles for
hours at a time if you get lost or wander off into the small
bypasses that make up the Victorian cemetery’s picture of
nature exploration and recognised conservation. Although
primarily an expansive Victorian cemetery, the park is
a public nature walk at where birds of every kind dwell
and thrive happily from tiny warblers to cheeky little red
robins and many other wonderful English bird species.
Now for the main story, please read on:
Gone Now Are They Forevermore.
Story and Photos By Uncle Monty.
How I landed up at London’s Victorian Garden Cemetery
at Abney Park was by simply getting off at the wrong bus
stop at Stoke Newington while alighting from bus No. 76.
I then more or less stumbled on the old burial place much
like we do so often in real life when we learn life’s tricks of
the trade by stumbling with many of our own silly and/or
serious mistakes. Landing up in a cemetery can be a fas-
cinating mistake, if you're still alive, or at least it was for
me on such a glorious early summer’s day like I found it
to be just only yesterday. Landing up dead in any kind
of cemetery is, of course, an entirely different story
of which only the living can tell and not the dead.
Pastoral Scene from Abney Park Cemetery.
The first thing I bumped into at Abney Park was the un-
mistakenable burial marker (shown in my caption photo)
of General William Booth and his wife Catherine, who died
22 years before did her husband who was the founder of
The Salvation Army. Last year, incidentally, The Salvation
Army itself raised over one billion, yes, over one billion,
in worldwide charity dollars.
The Sleeping Loin Memorial of the once famed
Menagerists Frank and Susannah Bostock. It is pro-
bably the most well-known feature at Abney Park.
To check the names of other eminent Victorians
and prominent Edwardians buried among the common
folk at Abney Park, simply visit the cemetery’s website:
A Murdered English Policeman of 1909.
Police Constable Wm. Frederick Tyler (his gravesite
Shown above) was only age 31 when he was “killed at
Tottenham while doing his duty” on July 23rd, 1909.
He belonged to London’s Metropolitan Police. Also, I
came across the gravesite of London Fire
Superintendent James Braidwood, who at age 29 was
killed “whilst courageously performing his duty at the
Great Fire in Tooley Street, June 22nd, 1861.” A
number of British soldiers from the First and Second
World Wars are buried at Abney Park, too, like Lt.
R. J. Daniels of The Scots Guards, 1919, and Private
James Ladds of The Yorkshire Regiment, 1939.
Thick underbrush and tall weeds hide many graves

I estimate that about 3,000 people are buried at

Abney Park Cemetery, which was originally the private

mansion property of, I believe, Sir Thomas Abney, Bart.

The first major statue to be erected at the park was

that of Dr. Isacc Watts, England’s greatest ever Hymn

Writer, who had been a life-long friend of Sir
Thomas. A very Christian cemetery in character I
think, it is full of classic English and Scottish surnames
so thus engraved like Harding, Read, Frost, Gould,
Hill, Webb, Spencer, Lock, Fuller, Kemp, Newton,
Rowe, Poole, Lacey, Harrison, Farrell, Browne,
Dickinson, Murray, Lynd, Steele, Ramsey,
and so on and so forth.

Abney Park isn’t, above all, a lonely garden cemetery, but
rather it is "lived in", if you will, just about every day with scores
of nature lovers, touring families, and curious or accidental visitors

like me. There is nothing scary, either, about the place. It is in

many way like the living are being hosted by the silent dead

while "gone now are they forevermore” from their

once earthly form and living life.


Abney Park statue of Dr. Isaac Watts was

England's greatest hymn writer of all times.

Aside from such fairly common homeland
surnames, I looked for the more unusual names on
the countless tombstones at Abney Park Cemetery.
Here are some I found: Charlotte Youle, age 20,
1858; James Cregey, age 31, 1883; son of Alfred
and Kelzia Cwilt, Aubrey, who died at Calcutta in
India, at his teenage age of 17 in 1854; Charles
Sweetinburch, 1917; Emily Rosina Ayton, 1972;
Henry Docwa, age 26, 1871; Edward Wessendorff
1931; Harriet Vooght, 1934; and Frederick Priddis,
1875. The large number of dead 19th and early 20th
century babies and young children buried at Abney
Park is evidence of poor health and medical care, I
suppose, for many of them at that time. Such examples
are Sarah Betteridge, age 4, when she died in 1842;
Lillian Maude Wimshurst, age 2, in 1865;
and Emily Lizette Yexley, age 14, in 1913.

I may add more to this story of Abney

Park, but for now I wanted to be sure

you got a litle whiff or flavour of such an

English cemetery garden that for years

has attracted both the living and the dead.

Truly, Uncle Monty.

+The 4th Sunday after Trinity, 2oo8.


Anglican Priests Who Invoke Mary. By Uncle Monty.

Anglican Priests Who Invoke Mary.
Story and Photos By Uncle Monty.
Adherents of traditional Catholicity are not just to be
found within the Roman Church, but also within the
English Church. Such English adherents are called
Anglo-Catholics or Anglican-Catholics. While I am myself
steeped in Low Church Anglican Protestantism, I have a
growing respect for what is called “High Church English
Catholicism.” Incidentally, "High Church" doesn’t mean socially
high class per se, but rather it means the deployment of highly
religious Catholic ritual and symbolism as opposed to Low Church
deritualized and plain protestant ceremonies. And, "Low Church"
doesn’t mean socially low class, either. All too many outside the
church confuse High and Low Church with class strata and
economic status. Such is most misleading.
However, what is not misleading is to come face-to-face
with dozens upon dozens of devout Anglican-Catholics
like I recently did at the 2oo8 National Festival of the
Confraternity of the Blessed Sacrament (CBS).
It was a sight and experience to behold. In some ways
it seemed to me to be more Catholic than Catholic.
Those ordained Anglican priests who were present at CBS
were to me much like Roman Catholic priests in all but name.
Certainly their Roman vestments and their Roman religious
ritual hardly echoed plain old Anglicanism to me. Of course,
the beauty of Historic Anglicanism has always been to ac-
knowledge both its character of Protestantism and Catholicism
side by side and to let it stand at various degrees of affirmation
throughout the ecclesiastical history of the Church of England.
Without delving deeply here into the issues of Anglican
Catholicism, I thought it best instead to simply present a few
of my images of those so present at the 2oo8 National Festival
of CBS. Thus, I present just seven images here that show
some of the individuals and character of the Confraternity
gathering that was a significant moment in this year’s Church
events even with alot less prior publicity and media fanfare
than my earlier presence at such major events as 354th
Festival Service of the Sons of the Clergy at St. Paul's
Cathedral and before that at Archbishop Rowan Williams’
extraordinary Lecture on Sharia Law at The Royal Courts
of Justice.
I shall, moreover, attend the most important English
Church event of this year in July when I shall be at The
Lambeth Conference with my eyes, ears, and cameras to
encounter all that is religiously and fraternally distilled
there. But for now, I present just seven images of the
indviduals and character of the Confraternity that I
witnessed with due humble reverence and
contained quiet pleasure ...
The Superior-General of the Confraternity
is 41 year old Anglican cleric Rev’d Father
Christopher Pearson, SSC, who is shown above.
At age 63, The Venerable Howard Levett
is a popular Anglican priest among devout
Anglican-Catholics. He is the Vicar of the 1836-
founded Parish of S. Alban The Martyr.
Anglican Sister Anne Williams was the Homilist
at the National Festival of CBS. She and I thought
it rather funny that she was mistakenly described
as a Catholic nun by the national news media when
she was engaged in conversation with Archbishop
Rowan Williams at Westminster Abbey. Some news
reporter automatically assumed she was a nun
with her title of sister of the old protestant Church
Army and not of the Catholic Church. The Anglican
Church has a long history of religious sisterhood and
devotion under their specific church orders and rule.
For a moment, I almost thought the Rev’d Father
Paul Gibbons, J.P. was of Catholic Cardinality by
the manner of his traditional dress. He is, in fact,
The Anglican Vicar of Maidenhead at age 71.
“Bravo, bravo …,” I said to myself upon having
now met him and then photographing him.
To have captured this image in post-modern
Britain was for me a lovely and telling moment just
as the Procession of the Blessed Sacrament was about
to get under way on the cold, secular, and crime ridden
streets of the modern and anti-Christian British
capital of today.
Mr. John Dilkes represents the best of Church Vergers
and Sacristans within the Anglican-Catholic tradition.
I am privileged, too, to call him among one of my
many Anglican and spiritual friends.
As for attending the National Festival of CBS, it
was spiritually and socially quite uplifting for those
so present and for me. The Procession of the Blessed
Sacament was a religious event all by itself and in-
deed a very worthy one for all who believe on Him.
Yet, my lasting impression of the Confraternity was
of those marvellous and individualistic Anglican
priests that I met and photographed who first in-
voke Mary in their religious belief and utterance that
seems to me to be far above and beyond the realm of
their Church of England calling to which they are so
rightly ordained.
Religious sincerity and spiritual expression should,
after all, always transcend the doctrinal parameters
of denominational affiliation and formal membership
of the individual believer. And to come to think of it,
perhaps The Confraternity is a classic religious example
of just that. In any event, I saw Anglican priests who
invoke Mary day in and day out. And, they don’t shy
away from that in any way. So praised is Mary then
by them and by those of The Confraternity of the
Blessed Sacrament.
Faithfully, Uncle Monty.
+The Feast of Weeks, 2oo8.
To: thebiggerissue@k.st
Subject: Re: you're in the news!!
Date: Sun 06/15/08 11:46 AM
Hi again Monty
ignore my last email - I have woken up and
found your article. It has been a busy fortnight.
You're right I did find it interesting
Love and prayers Sister Anne


The Movie Sister. By Uncle Monty.

The Movie Sister.
By Uncle Monty.
The Movie Sister, as I call her, wasn’t hesitant when
some young teenage yob tried to rush in front of her
video camera as she was then recording the final street
scenes of The Procession of the Confraternity
of the Blessed Sacrament.
She grabbed him in an instant by the scruff of the neck
and pulled him back until she had completed the final
shots of those clergy and laity she was filming.
The yob looked perplexed and he sulked at her like
he wanted to kill her. She stood her ground and didn’t
wince nor blink an Anglican-Catholic eyelid. He then
scurried off from the scene like he was all hurt and
offended after the sister had completed her movie.
Poooooor thing, you punk.
Harrah … And again, I say hurrah, for the good movie
sister. If I’d have had my way, he’d have gotten caned
good with six-of-the-best across his smart rearend to
teach him a good needed lesson about good manners
and proper respect.
I shall shortly, by the way, be writing about the pressing
issue of re-instating corporal punishment in today’s appall-
ingly bad British state schools and acadamies at where daily
violence and undisciplined students rule and roost the day.
"Bring back the cane," is what I unapologetically say.
But for now, please read my full posted story entitled
"Anglican Priests Who Invoke Mary" that stems from my
uncommon encounter at the 2oo8 National Festival of
the Confraternity of the Blessed Sacrament.
, Uncle Monty.
+St. Pelegia, 2oo8.


Lost Surely At Lost TV. By Uncle Monty.

Lost Surely At Lost TV.
Story By Uncle Monty.
There was something totally unreal about game show host
Nick Knowles, aside from being a stupid idiot who couldn’t
get his cues or his lines right. And, so they had to re-take
the shots of him on a number of times until he finally got it
right at the BBC-TV recording studios at where I sat up-
front for almost four hours watching such an overpaid
nickumpoop in his delirious action on Who Dares Wins
for Lost TV. If anybody was “lost,” it was surely
Nick The Nickumpoop.
Nick Knowles with Uncle Monty at BBC-TV
He, Nick Knowles, should have been shown to the back
door of the studio and put out on the street to beg for a
real living for he was surely that bad and that stupid. Oh,
and don’t get me going about how he spoke with that
put-on voice of his that was so unreal and artificial
I thought at first he was a broken, talking voice box
or something like that … if there’s such a thing.
TV studio fan with Nick Knowles himself
My BBC-TV studio photos here show the game show
host at his best and not his worst. I will leave you now
with other photos I've taken, too, as shown below.
Truly, Uncle Monty.
Pax Christi, 2oo8.
My flash camera made him blink
Sofia Came My Way
At The Freeman's Hall
Thankz alot for the ride, Maria ... You’ll also see
my face is reflected centre on the shining grill.
My photoview of England's
Maritme City of Southampton.
From: "john lenhart" at johnlenhart@email2me.net
thebiggerissue@k.st Subject: U write poison, don't u?
Date: Mon 06/09/08 10:18 AM
Uncle Monty, Can u ever write a story that does not attack the
person u write about? U have attacked Gordon Brown, Mr. Blair,
Ken Livingstone, Rev (Gene) Robinson, Adam Boulton, the govern-
ment and even the police. What is it that drives u to attack anybody
u don't like? U write a strong story. U don't mince your words. U go
right for the throat. U find fault in your victims like u did with your
latest one Nick Knowles. U savaged him. What for? Do u feel good
using your poison pen? Write something nice for a change, would
u Uncle Monty? Your blog is nevertheless great. U keep me
coming back for more just to read your latest attack stories.
From a soft critic, John Lenhart.
Uncle Monty replies: "i don't attack, i just present my stories
from a different prospective than most others. i don't use a
poison pen, i use the simple truth. i don't have victims, i have
only personalities, subjects, and events to write about. and
that's what i do without fear or favour. i welcome critics like
you for it makes me glad all over ... without critics i am a
failure in what i write, do and say. after all, i brand myself
first as a critical critic of all that i see around me from the ilk
of Anthony Blair to whoever or whatever comes my way.
Critics, like you and me, make life go around and around."


Pre-Anglican + Post-Reformation Church Treasures. Edited By Uncle Monty.

Pre-Anglican + Post-Reformation Church Treasures.
Edited By Uncles Monty
Historic and very rare English Church gold and silver objects
dating from the year 800 to the present day is the subject of a
major British exhibition at Goldsmiths’ Hall, close to London's
St. Paul's Cathedral, from now until July 12th, 2oo8.
Admission is free.
Held under the patronage of the 104th Archbishop of Canterbury
the exhibition “Treasures of the English Church: Sacred Gold and
Silver 800 to 2000” features over 330 spectacular objects from
some of the country’s grandest cathedrals and from humble parish
churches throughout England. This is the first exhibition of such
importance and scale ever to take place in the British Isles. It
will be displayed over two floors at Goldsmiths’ Hall, which will
assume an appropriately ecclesiastical atmosphere for the
occasion to complement the gravitas -of the subject matter.
Each piece vividly evokes the tradition, symbolism and un-
broken ritual of the Anglican Church of England through the ages.
Exhibition curator, Timothy Schroder, said: “The exhibition is
a visual record of the entire history of the English Church and it
is fascinating to see how the range and design of these precious
objects reflect the politics and theology of their times.”

Many of the treasures on display have until now only been seen
by a restricted audience which makes the bringing together of this
outstanding group of church gold and silver for the benefit of a larger
public an event of huge importance. Never before has it been possible
to marvel at the minute detail of the magnificent jewel-encrusted
Primate’s processional cross, graciously loaned by the
Archbishop of Canterbury, Dr. Rowan Williams.
One of the highlights of the exhibition is the Bodley cross that
was designed and made in 1883 by George Frederick Bodley.
Richly bejewelled it incorporates later additions namely three
sapphires and three opals which were presented to England's
Archbishop Geoffrey Fisher when he visited Australia in 1958.
Illustrating the glories of post-Reformation church plate, outstanding
pieces from these grandiose, sculptural altar services on loan from
the Bishop of Durham, St George’s Chapel Windsor, Christ Church
Cathedral Oxford and Rochester Cathedral represent church gold
and silver at its most opulent and flamboyant. Three magnificent
alms dishes, together with a sumptuous pair of flagons chased with
feathers, all dating from circa 1660 and loaned by St George’s
Chapel Windsor are powerful examples and clearly demonstrate the
grandeur and confident skills of 17th century gold and silversmiths.
Among the earliest exhibits are Archbishop Hubert Walter’s
silver-gilt chalice and paten from Canterbury Cathedral, dating
from about 1160, which were discovered in his tomb, together
with various jewels and pins which attached his pallium to his
vestment. The paten is finely engraved with the image of the
Lamb of God and is one of several interesting medieval patens
included in the exhibition. A small collection of exquisite medieval
jewellery is also featured, for example the ring belonging to William
Wykeham, the founder of New College Oxford. Other jewels exhibit-
ed, including a group from Durham Cathedral, were discovered in
bishops’ graves excavated during the 18th and 19th centuries.
One of the important themes of the exhibition is the role of the
Church as preserver of objects that would otherwise almost certainly
have ended up in the melting pot during the English Civil War or at
any other time simply through changes in fashion. These included
a number of secular objects which were given to churches by
pious parishioners and used for the service of Holy Communion.
Among these is a drinking cup traditionally said to have been given
by Anne Boleyn to her daughter Elizabeth I, who in turn gave it to
her physician Richard Masters. Masters duly presented the cup,
a secular drinking cup bearing the falcon badge of Anne Boleyn on
the lid, to the church of St John the Baptist in Cirencester,
where it has remained ever since.
Another example of an object which would not have survived
is an extremely beautiful silver-gilt mounted crystal cup dat-
ing from 1577 which was presented to a church in Shropshire
and is now preserved in Lichfield Cathedral Treasury. The
communion cup or chalice has undergone many transformations
since the Middle Ages and a large group traces the development
of its traditional and familiar form through the ages. Following the
Reformation most of the existing church plate was melted down
and re-modelled to be in keeping with the reformed religion.
The chalice adopted a more secular look with a simple conical
bowl and stem. An impressive example from Eton College,
dating from 1569-70, is a good illustration, although it is
considerably larger in size than most, perhaps
denoting the wealth of the College.
The Compass Rose
A select group of Roman Catholic recusant plate reminds the
visitor of the religious persecution which was prevalent in Eng-
land following the Reformation. These pieces are identified from
their more medieval shapes; recusant chalices can often be
dismantled so that they could be more easily hidden. They were
also usually made for liturgical practices which were not con-
sidered acceptable to the Anglican Church, and were used
secretly in private Catholic chapels, such as that at Arundel
Castle. Further interest is likewise provided by a small
group of foreign silver objects which have made their way
into English church collections. Among them is a beautiful
and unusual chalice and cruet stand plundered in the late
17th century from Cuban Catholic Church in Havana,
Cuba, which now belongs to a local parish church
in England’s Gloucestershire.
A gold chalice from the Roman Catholic Metropolitan
Cathedral of Liverpool dating from 1959 by Dunstan
Pruden bears a wonderful figure of Christ in Majesty and
is made from 300 wedding rings donated by widows, mak-
ing it a good example of lay piety and giving . With very
few exceptions, all the exhibits belong to churches or religious
institutions. An extraordinary number of medieval and later
treasures remain in the possession of parish churches through-
out the country and several pre-Reformation chalices and
patens are still in regular use.
Everyone who is interested in the rich history of the Church of
England and its enduring traditions and rituals will find this a
fascinating and absorbing exhibition, while the sheer brilliance
of workmanship of the objects, together with their historical
and social context extends its interest and appeal far beyond
the confines of personal religion and affirmed faiths. Read
about the opening visit by His Grace to this outstanding
Church exhibition by the Goldsmiths Company :
Faithfully, Uncle Monty.
+Branch Dividian, 2oo8.
I am set to visit the Goldsmith's
Exhibition and I may decide to then write
further about it once I have seen with my
own Anglican eyes such historic and
important Church treasures.
From Goldsmiths To Confraternity.
By Uncle Monty
If you love the church, much like I do, then you’ll love
Goldsmiths Hall’s Presentation of Sacred and Religious
Objects covering thirteen centuries of The English Church.
Display after display was impeccably presented of, inter
alia, ciboriums, flagons, pectoral crosses, patens, altar sets,
sanctuary lamps, bishops’ episcopal seals, candelabrums, and
croziers. Some 330 of such priceless objects was a splendid
feast to the eye and the mind of the faithful and non-faithful
alike. I am sure the displays are one of a kind and that view-
ing such rare church treasures all together at Goldsmiths Hall
is a once in a lifetime experience of the like not easily seen
ever again.
When I arrived at mid-day, over 240 other folkz had
already viewed the extraordinary exhibition, which His
Grace, the Archbishop of Canterbury, had also personally
visited on the official opening day. He was greatly impressed,
I was told, and so was I. I only wish I could have photographed
some of the objects, but photographing was strictly forbidden
inside Goldsmiths Hall. Even the Hall itself was so splendid and
I also saw one of its luncheons being held under some ten huge
antique chandeliers in the finely-fitted Dinner Room that I
believe must have held at least 350 people as I looked on rather
jealously at the aristocratic and noble setting. I drooled, too, at
the befitting displays of the 1,300 year-period of the church's
astonishing objects that few clergy, laity, or the general public
could have ever hoped to see. I am so glad that I did.
Two days after my first encounter at Goldsmiths Hall,
I then attended The 2oo8 National Festival of the
Confraternity of the Blessed Sacrament (CBS), which
upholds the Catholic Tradition -and Latin Rite
within The Anglican Church Of England.
The confraternity stems from The Oxford Movement
(OM) of the late 19th century. It was after John Keble had
preached his astounding "Assize Sermon on National Apostasy"
that then Cardinal John Henry Newman of Edgbaston marked
the beginning day of the famed OM on July 14th, 1833. It
should be noted that this year of 2oo8 also marks the 175th
year of the Oxford Movement that raged for generations
within and without The Church of English.
I photographed extensively at the CBS national festival
of its leading clerical figures primarily and that included the
Superior-General of the Confraternity, Rev'd Father Christopher
Pearson, SSC, who is pretty young at only age 41 to head such
a significant Anglican-Catholic Order. And, I also photographed
the Confraternity Host, The Most Venerable Howard Levett, 63.
But not least was the Rev'd Father Paul Gibbons, 71, The Vicar
of Maidenhead, who is noted for his teaching at St. Petersburg,
Russia, and his close and long involvement with the Russian
and Ukrainian Orthodox Church. He is also a British Justice
of the Peace or JP.
I also want to thank so much Verger and Sacristan John
Dilkes, a kind friend of each other’s, for permitting me to
attend the national event without prior notice after taking
note of the confraternity’s short-timed announcement in
The Church Times. I kicked myself for missing lunch at
S. Alban’s Centre. But afternoon tea was a nice treat and
so was John’s very warm and Christian greeting to me.
I shall, once my film-based images are developed, write
further about CBS and post with my story a number of
images of those people who I photographed including the
Festival Homilist Sr. Anne Williams of the Church Army
(CA). Don’t confuse her rank with the equally-fine
Salvation Army, mind you. My dear Salvationist friend
Eve Freeman would never forgive me if I helped in
any way to add further confusion between the two.
And my last word for now is that I am also pleased to have
just received an open invitation to attend the July 1st, 2oo8,
London briefing and gathering of “Global Anglicanism and
English Orthodoxy” in which The Most Rev’d Henry Orombi,
Archbishop of Uganda; The Most Rev’d Peter Jensen,
Archbishop of Sydney; and The Most Rev’d Greg Venables,
Archbishop of the Southern Cone, will be among those to attend.
Along with the formidable and noted Anglican polemicist Jim
Packer of St. John’s Shaughnessy, Canada. I look forward to
personally meeting them all and to then record them
through my photographic eye.
Truly, Uncle Monty.
+Third Sunday after Trinity, 2oo8.