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It Can't Happen Here, Sinclair Lewis

Chapter 29-30

CHAPTER XXIX

THE propaganda throughout the country was not all to the New Underground; not even most of it; and though the pamphleteers for the N.U., at home and exiled abroad, included hundreds of the most capable professional journalists of America, they were cramped by a certain respect for facts which never enfeebled the press agents for Corpoism. And the Corpos had a notable staff. It included college presidents, some of the most renowned among the radio announcers who aforetime had crooned their affection for mouth washes and noninsomniac coffee, famous ex-war-correspondents, ex- governors, former vice-presidents of the American Federation of Labor, and no less an artist than the public relations counsel of a princely corporation of electrical-goods manufacturers.

The newspapers everywhere might no longer be so wishily-washily liberal as to print the opinions of non-Corpos; they might give but little news from those old-fashioned and democratic countries, Great Britain, France, and the Scandinavian states; might indeed print almost no foreign news, except as regards the triumphs of Italy in giving Ethiopia good roads, trains on time, freedom from beggars and from men of honor, and all the other spiritual benefactions of Roman civilization. But, on the other hand, never had newspapers shown so many comic strips—the most popular was a very funny one about a preposterous New Underground crank, who wore mortuary black with a high hat decorated with crêpe and who was always being comically beaten up by M.M.'s. Never had there been, even in the days when Mr. Hearst was freeing Cuba, so many large red headlines. Never so many dramatic drawings of murders—the murderers were always notorious anti-Corpos. Never such a wealth of literature, worthy its twenty-four-hour immortality, as the articles proving, and proving by figures, that American wages were universally higher, commodities universally lower-priced, war budgets smaller but the army and its equipment much larger, than ever in history. Never such righteous polemics as the proofs that all non-Corpos were Communists.

Almost daily, Windrip, Sarason, Dr. Macgoblin, Secretary of War Luthorne, or Vice-President Perley Beecroft humbly addressed their Masters, the great General Public, on the radio, and congratulated them on making a new world by their example of American solidarity— marching shoulder to shoulder under the Grand Old Flag, comrades in the blessings of peace and comrades in the joys of war to come.

Much-heralded movies, subsidized by the government (and could there be any better proof of the attention paid by Dr. Macgoblin and the other Nazi leaders to the arts than the fact that movie actors who before the days of the Chief were receiving only fifteen hundred gold dollars a week were now getting five thousand?), showed the M.M.'s driving armored motors at eighty miles an hour, piloting a fleet of one thousand planes, and being very tender to a little girl with a kitten.

Everyone, including Doremus Jessup, had said in 1935, "If there ever is a Fascist dictatorship here, American humor and pioneer independence are so marked that it will be absolutely different from anything in Europe."

For almost a year after Windrip came in, this seemed true. The Chief was photographed playing poker, in shirtsleeves and with a derby on the back of his head, with a newspaperman, a chauffeur, and a pair of rugged steel-workers. Dr. Macgoblin in person led an Elks' brass band and dived in competition with the Atlantic City bathing-beauties. It was reputably reported that M.M.'s apologized to political prisoners for having to arrest them, and that the prisoners joked amiably with the guards... at first.

All that was gone, within a year after the inauguration, and surprised scientists discovered that whips and handcuffs hurt just as sorely in the clear American air as in the miasmic fogs of Prussia.

Doremus, reading the authors he had concealed in the horsehair sofa—the gallant Communist, Karl Billinger, the gallant anti- Communist, Tchernavin, and the gallant neutral, Lorant—began to see something like a biology of dictatorships, all dictatorships. The universal apprehension, the timorous denials of faith, the same methods of arrest—sudden pounding on the door late at night, the squad of police pushing in, the blows, the search, the obscene oaths at the frightened women, the third degree by young snipe of officials, the accompanying blows and then the formal beatings, when the prisoner is forced to count the strokes until he faints, the leprous beds and the sour stew, guards jokingly shooting round and round a prisoner who believes he is being executed, the waiting in solitude to know what will happen, till men go mad and hang themselves—

Thus had things gone in Germany, exactly thus in Soviet Russia, in Italy and Hungary and Poland, Spain and Cuba and Japan and China. Not very different had it been under the blessings of liberty and fraternity in the French Revolution. All dictators followed the same routine of torture, as if they had all read the same manual of sadistic etiquette. And now, in the humorous, friendly, happy-go-lucky land of Mark Twain, Doremus saw the homicidal maniacs having just as good a time as they had had in central Europe.

America followed, too, the same ingenious finances as Europe. Windrip had promised to make everybody richer, and had contrived to make everybody, except for a few hundred bankers and industrialists and soldiers, much poorer. He needed no higher mathematicians to produce his financial statements: any ordinary press agent could do them. To show a 100 per cent economy in military expenditures, while increasing the establishment 700 per cent, it had been necessary only to charge up all expenditures for the Minute Men to non-military departments, so that their training in the art of bayonet-sticking was debited to the Department of Education. To show an increase in average wages one did tricks with "categories of labor" and "required minimum wages," and forgot to state how many workers ever did become entitled to the "minimum," and how much was charged as wages, on the books, for food and shelter for the millions in the labor camps.

It all made dazzling reading. There had never been more elegant and romantic fiction.

Even loyal Corpos began to wonder why the armed forces, army and M.M.'s together, were being so increased. Was a frightened Windrip getting ready to defend himself against a rising of the whole nation? Did he plan to attack all of North and South America and make himself an emperor? Or both? In any case, the forces were so swollen that even with its despotic power of taxation, the Corpo government never had enough. They began to force exports, to practice the "dumping" of wheat, corn, timber, copper, oil, machinery. They increased production, forced it by fines and threats, then stripped the farmer of all he had, for export at depreciated prices. But at home the prices were not depreciated but increased, so that the more we exported, the less the industrial worker in America had to eat. And really zealous County Commissioners took from the farmer (after the patriotic manner of many Mid-Western counties in 1918) even his seed grain, so that he could grow no more, and on the very acres where once he had raised superfluous wheat he now starved for bread. And while he was starving, the Commissioners continued to try to make him pay for the Corpo bonds which he had been made to buy on the instalment plan.

But still, when he did finally starve to death, none of these things worried him.

There were bread lines now in Fort Beulah, once or twice a week.

The hardest phenomenon of dictatorship for a Doremus to understand, even when he saw it daily in his own street, was the steady diminution of gayety among the people.

America, like England and Scotland, had never really been a gay nation. Rather it had been heavily and noisily jocular, with a substratum of worry and insecurity, in the image of its patron saint, Lincoln of the rollicking stories and the tragic heart. But at least there had been hearty greetings, man to man; there had been clamorous jazz for dancing, and the lively, slangy catcalls of young people, and the nervous blatting of tremendous traffic.

All that false cheerfulness lessened now, day by day.

The Corpos found nothing more convenient to milk than public pleasures. After the bread had molded, the circuses were closed. There were taxes or increased taxes on motorcars, movies, theaters, dances, and ice-cream sodas. There was a tax on playing a phonograph or radio in any restaurant. Lee Sarason, himself a bachelor, conceived of super-taxing bachelors and spinsters, and contrariwise of taxing all weddings at which more than five persons were present.

Even the most reckless youngsters went less and less to public entertainments, because no one not ostentatiously in uniform cared to be noticed, these days. It was impossible to sit in a public place without wondering which spies were watching you. So all the world stayed home—and jumped anxiously at every passing footstep, every telephone ring, every tap of an ivy sprig on the window.

The score of people definitely pledged to the New Underground were the only persons to whom Doremus dared talk about anything more incriminating than whether it was likely to rain, though he had been the friendliest gossip in town. Always it had taken ten minutes longer than was humanly possible for him to walk to the Informer office, because he stopped on every corner to ask after someone's sick wife, politics, potato crop, opinions about Deism, or luck at fishing.

As he read of rebels against the régime who worked in Rome, in Berlin, he envied them. They had thousands of government agents, unknown by sight and thus the more dangerous, to watch them; but also they had thousands of comrades from whom to seek encouragement, exciting personal tattle, shop talk, and the assurance that they were not altogether idiotic to risk their lives for a mistress so ungrateful as Revolution. Those secret flats in great cities— perhaps some of them really were filled with the rosy glow they had in fiction. But the Fort Beulahs, anywhere in the world, were so isolated, the conspirators so uninspiringly familiar one to another, that only by inexplicable faith could one go on.

Now that Lorinda was gone, there certainly was nothing very diverting in sneaking round corners, trying to look like somebody else, merely to meet Buck and Dan Wilgus and that good woman, Sissy!

Buck and he and the rest—they were such amateurs. They needed the guidance of veteran agitators like Mr. Ailey and Mr. Bailey and Mr. Cailey.

Their feeble pamphlets, their smearily printed newspaper, seemed futile against the enormous blare of Corpo propaganda. It seemed worse than futile, it seemed insane, to risk martyrdom in a world where Fascists persecuted Communists, Communists persecuted Social-Democrats, Social-Democrats persecuted everybody who would stand for it; where "Aryans" who looked like Jews persecuted Jews who looked like Aryans and Jews persecuted their debtors; where every statesman and clergyman praised Peace and brightly asserted that the only way to get Peace was to get ready for War.

What conceivable reason could one have for seeking after righteousness in a world which so hated righteousness? Why do anything except eat and read and make love and provide for sleep that should be secure against disturbance by armed policemen?

He never did find any particularly good reason. He simply went on.

In June, when the Fort Beulah cell of the New Underground had been carrying on for some three months, Mr. Francis Tasbrough, the golden quarryman, called on his neighbor, Doremus.

"How are you, Frank?"

"Fine, Remus. How's the old carping critic?"

"Fine, Frank. Still carping. Fine carping weather, at that. Have a cigar?"

"Thanks. Got a match? Thanks. Saw Sissy yesterday. She looks fine."

"Yes, she's fine. I saw Malcolm driving by yesterday. How did he like it in the Provincial University, at New York?"

"Oh, fine—fine. He says the athletics are grand. They're getting Primo Carnera over to coach in tennis next year—I think it's Carnera—I think it's tennis—but anyway, the athletics are fine there, Malcolm says. Say, uh, Remus, there's something I been meaning to ask you. I, uh—The fact is—I want you to be sure and not repeat this to anybody. I know you can be trusted with a secret, even if you are a newspaperman—or used to be, I mean, but— The fact is (and this is inside stuff; official), there's going to be some governmental promotions all along the line—this is confidential, and it comes to me straight from the Provincial Commissioner, Colonel Haik. Luthorne is finished as Secretary of War—he's a nice fellow, but he hasn't got as much publicity for the Corpos out of his office as the Chief expected him to. Haik is to have his job, and also take over the position of High Marshal of the Minute Men from Lee Sarason—I suppose Sarason has too much to do. Well then, John Sullivan Reek is slated to be Provincial Commissioner; that leaves the office of District Commissioner for Vermont-New Hampshire empty, and I'm one of the people being seriously considered. I've done a lot of speaking for the Corpos, and I know Dewey Haik very well—I was able to advise him about erecting public buildings. Of course there's none of the County Commissioners around here that measure up to a district commissionership—not even Dr. Staubmeyer—certainly not Shad Ledue. Now if you could see your way clear to throw in with me, your influence would help—"

"Good heavens, Frank, the worst thing you could have happen, if you want the job, is to have me favor you! The Corpos don't like me. Oh, of course they know I'm loyal, not one of these dirty, sneaking anti-Corpos, but I never made enough noise in the paper to please 'em."

"That's just it, Remus! I've got a really striking idea. Even if they don't like you, the Corpos respect you, and they know how long you've been important in the State. We'd all be greatly pleased if you came out and joined us. Now just suppose you did so and let people know that it was my influence that converted you to Corpoism. That might give me quite a leg-up. And between old friends like us, Remus, I can tell you that this job of District Commissioner would be useful to me in the quarry business, aside from the social advantages. And if I got the position, I can promise you that I'd either get the Informer taken away from Staubmeyer and that dirty little stinker, Itchitt, and given back to you to run absolutely as you pleased—providing, of course, you had the sense to keep from criticizing the Chief and the State. Or, if you'd rather, I think I could probably wangle a job for you as military judge (they don't necessarily have to be lawyers) or maybe President Peaseley's job as District Director of Education— you'd have a lot of fun out of that!—awfully amusing the way all the teachers kiss the Director's foot! Come on, old man! Think of all the fun we used to have in the old days! Come to your senses and face the inevitable and join us and fix up some good publicity for me. How about it—huh, huh?"

Doremus reflected that the worst trial of a revolutionary propagandist was not risking his life, but having to be civil to people like Future-Commissioner Tasbrough.

He supposed that his voice was polite as he muttered, "Afraid I'm too old to try it, Frank," but apparently Tasbrough was offended. He sprang up and tramped away grumbling, "Oh, very well then!"

"And I didn't give him a chance to say anything about being realistic or breaking eggs to make an omelet," regretted Doremus.

The next day Malcolm Tasbrough, meeting Sissy on the street, made his beefy most of cutting her. At the time the Jessups thought that was very amusing. They thought the occasion less amusing when Malcolm chased little David out of the Tasbrough apple orchard, which he had been wont to use as the Great Western Forest where at any time one was rather more than likely to meet Kit Carson, Robin Hood, and Colonel Lindbergh hunting together.

Having only Frank's word for it, Doremus could do no more than hint in Vermont Vigilance that Colonel Dewey Haik was to be made Secretary of War, and give Haik's actual military record, which included the facts that as a first lieutenant in France in 1918, he had been under fire for less than fifteen minutes, and that his one real triumph had been commanding state militia during a strike in Oregon, when eleven strikers had been shot down, five of them in the back.

Then Doremus forgot Tasbrough completely and happily.

CHAPTER XXX

BUT worse than having to be civil to the fatuous Mr. Tasbrough was keeping his mouth shut when, toward the end of June, a newspaperman at Battington, Vermont, was suddenly arrested as editor of Vermont Vigilance and author of all the pamphlets by Doremus and Lorinda. He went to concentration camp. Buck and Dan Wilgus and Sissy prevented Doremus from confessing, and from even going to call on the victim, and when, with Lorinda no longer there as confidante, Doremus tried to explain it all to Emma, she said, Wasn't it lucky that the government had blamed somebody else!

Emma had worked out the theory that the N.U. activity was some sort of a naughty game which kept her boy, Doremus, busy after his retirement. He was mildly nagging the Corpos. She wasn't sure that it was really nice to nag the legal authorities, but still, for a little fellow, her Doremus had always been surprisingly spunky—just like (she often confided to Sissy) a spunky little Scotch terrier she had owned when she was a girl—Mr. McNabbit its name had been, a little Scotch terrier, but my! so spunky he acted like he was a regular lion!

She was rather glad that Lorinda was gone, though she liked Lorinda and worried about how well she might do with a tea room in a new town, a town where she had never lived. But she just couldn't help feeling (she confided not only to Sissy but to Mary and Buck) that Lorinda, with all her wild crazy ideas about women's rights, and workmen being just as good as their employers, had a bad influence on Doremus's tendency to show off and shock people. (She mildly wondered why Buck and Sissy snorted so. She hadn't meant to say anything particularly funny!)

For too many years she had been used to Doremus's irregular routine to have her sleep disturbed by his returning from Buck's at the improper time to which she referred as "at all hours," but she did wish he would be "more on time for his meals," and she gave up the question of why, these days, he seemed to like to associate with Ordinary People like John Pollikop, Dan Wilgus, Daniel Babcock, and Pete Vutong—my! some people said Pete couldn't even read and write, and Doremus so educated and all! Why didn't he see more of lovely people like Frank Tasbrough and Professor Staubmeyer and Mr. R. C. Crowley and this new friend of his, the Hon. John Sullivan Reek?

Why couldn't he keep out of politics? She'd always SAID they were no occupation for a gentleman!

Like David, now ten years old (and like twenty or thirty million other Americans, from one to a hundred, but all of the same mental age), Emma thought the marching M.M.'s were a very fine show indeed, so much like movies of the Civil War, really quite educational; and while of course if Doremus didn't care for President Windrip, she was opposed to him also, yet didn't Mr. Windrip speak beautifully about pure language, church attendance, low taxation, and the American flag?

The realists, the makers of omelets, did climb, as Tasbrough had predicted. Colonel Dewey Haik, Commissioner of the Northeastern Province, became Secretary of War and High Marshal of M.M.'s, while the former secretary, Colonel Luthorne, retired to Kansas and the real-estate business and was well spoken of by all business men for being thus willing to give up the grandeur of Washington for duty toward practical affairs and his family, who were throughout the press depicted as having frequently missed him. It was rumored in N.U. cells that Haik might go higher even than Secretary of War; that Windrip was worried by the forced growth of a certain effeminacy in Lee Sarason under the arc light of glory.

Francis Tasbrough was elevated to District Commissionership at Hanover. But Mr. Sullivan Reek did not in series go on to be Provincial Commissioner. It was said that he had too many friends among just the old-line politicians whose jobs the Corpos were so enthusiastically taking. No, the new Provincial Commissioner, viceroy and general, was Military Judge Effingham Swan, the one man whom Mary Jessup Greenhill hated more than she did Shad Ledue.

Swan was a splendid commissioner. Within three days after taking office, he had John Sullivan Reek and seven assistant district commissioners arrested, tried, and imprisoned, all within twenty-four hours, and an eighty-year-old woman, mother of a New Underground agent but not otherwise accused of wickedness, penned in a concentration camp for the more desperate traitors. It was in a disused quarry which was always a foot deep in water. After he had sentenced her, Swan was said to have bowed to her most courteously.

The New Underground sent out warning, from headquarters in Montreal, for a general tightening up of precautions against being caught distributing propaganda. Agents were disappearing rather alarmingly.

Buck scoffed, but Doremus was nervous. He noticed that the same strange man, ostensibly a drummer, a large man with unpleasant eyes, had twice got into conversation with him in the Hotel Wessex lobby, and too obviously hinted that he was anti-Corpo and would love to have Doremus say something nasty about the Chief and the M.M.'s.

Doremus became cautious about going out to Buck's. He parked his car in half-a-dozen different wood-roads and crept afoot to the secret basement.

On the evening of the twenty-eighth of June, 1938, he had a notion that he was being followed, so closely did a car with red-tinted headlights, anxiously watched in his rear-view mirror, stick behind him as he took the Keezmet highway down to Buck's. He turned up a side road, down another. The spy car followed. He stopped, in a driveway on the left-hand side of the road, and angrily stepped out, in time to see the other car pass, with a man who looked like Shad Ledue driving. He swung round then and, without concealment, bolted for Buck's.

In the basement, Buck was contentedly tying up bundles of the Vigilance, while Father Perefixe, in his shirtsleeves, vest open and black dickey swinging beneath his reversed collar, sat at a plain pine table, writing a warning to New England Catholics that though the Corpos had, unlike the Nazis in Germany, been shrewd enough to flatter prelates, they had lowered the wages of French-Canadian Catholic mill hands and imprisoned their leaders just as severely as in the case of the avowedly wicked Protestants.

Perefixe smiled up at Doremus, stretched, lighted a pipe, and chuckled, "As a great ecclesiast, Doremus, is it your opinion that I shall be committing a venial or a mortal sin by publishing this little masterpiece—the work of my favorite author—without the Bishop's imprimatur?"

"Stephen! Buck! I think they're on to us! Maybe we've got to fold up already and get the press and type out of here!" He told of being shadowed. He telephoned to Julian, at M.M. headquarters, and (since there were too many French-Canadian inspectors about for him to dare to use his brand of French) he telephoned in the fine new German he had been learning by translation:

"Denks du ihr Freunds dere haben a Idee die letzt Tag von vot ve mach here?"

And the college-bred Julian had so much international culture as to be able to answer: "Ja, Ich mein ihr vos sachen morning free. Look owid!"

How could they move? Where?

Dan Wilgus arrived, in panic, an hour after.

"Say! They're watching us!" Doremus, Buck, and the priest gathered round the black viking of a man. "Just now when I came in I thought I heard something in the bushes, here in the yard, near the house, and before I thought, I flashed my torch on him, and by golly if it wasn't Aras Dilley, and not in uniform—and you know how Aras loves his God—excuse me, Father—how he loves his uniform. He was disguised! Sure! In overalls! Looked like a jackass that's gone under a clothes-line! Well, he'd been rubbering at the house. Course these curtains are drawn, but I don't know what he saw and—"

The three large men looked to Doremus for orders.

"We got to get all this stuff out of here! Quick! Take it and hide it in Truman Webb's attic. Stephen: get John Pollikop and Mungo Kitterick and Pete Vutong on the phone—get 'em here, quick— tell John to stop by and tell Julian to come as soon as he can. Dan: start dismantling the press. Buck: bundle up all the literature." As he spoke, Doremus was wrapping type in scraps of newspaper. And at three next morning, before light, Pollikop was driving toward Truman Webb's farmhouse the entire equipment of the New Underground printing establishment, in Buck's old farm truck, from which blatted, for the benefit of all ears that might be concerned, two frightened calves.

Next day Julian ventured to invite his superior officers, Shad Ledue and Emil Staubmeyer, to a poker session at Buck's. They came, with alacrity. They found Buck, Doremus, Mungo Kitterick, and Doc Itchitt—the last an entirely innocent participant in certain deceptions.

They played in Buck's parlor. But during the evening Buck announced that anyone wanting beer instead of whisky would find it in a tub of ice in the basement, and that anyone wishing to wash his hands would find two bathrooms upstairs.

Shad hastily went for beer. Doc Itchitt even more hastily went to wash his hands. Both of them were gone much longer than one would have expected.

When the party broke up and Buck and Doremus were alone, Buck shrieked with bucolic mirth: "I could scarcely keep a straight face when I heard good old Shad opening the cupboards and taking a fine long look-see for pamphlets down in the basement. Well, Cap'n Jessup, that about ends their suspicion of this place as a den of traitors, I guess! God, but isn't Shad dumb!"

This was at perhaps 3 A.M. on the morning of June thirtieth.

Doremus stayed home, writing sedition, all the afternoon and evening of the thirtieth, hiding the sheets under pages of newspaper in the Franklin stove in his study, so that he could touch them off with a match in case of a raid—a trick he had learned from Karl Billinger's anti-Nazi Fatherland.

This new opus was devoted to murders ordered by Commissioner Effingham Swan.

On the first and second of July, when he sauntered uptown, he was rather noticeably encountered by the same weighty drummer who had picked him up in the Hotel Wessex lobby before, and who now insisted on their having a drink together. Doremus escaped, and was conscious that he was being followed by an unknown young man, flamboyant in an apricot-colored polo shirt and gray bags, whom he recognized as having worn M.M. uniform at a parade in June. On July third, rather panicky, Doremus drove to Truman Webb's, taking an hour of zigzagging to do it, and warned Truman not to permit any more printing till he should have a release.

When Doremus went home, Sissy lightly informed him that Shad had insisted she go out to an M.M. picnic with him on the next afternoon, the Fourth, and that, information or no, she had refused. She was afraid of him, surrounded by his ready playmates.

That night of the third, Doremus slept only in sick spasms. He was reasonlessly convinced that he would be arrested before dawn. The night was overcast and electric and uneasy. The crickets sounded as though they were piping under compulsion, in a rhythm of terror. He lay throbbing to their sound. He wanted to flee—but how and where, and how could he leave his threatened family? For the first time in years he wished that he were sleeping beside the unperturbable Emma, beside her small earthy hillock of body. He laughed at himself. What could Emma do to protect him against Minute Men? Just scream! And what then? But he, who always slept with his door shut, to protect his sacred aloneness, popped out of bed to open the door, that he might have the comfort of hearing her breathe, and the fiercer Mary stir in slumber, and Sissy's occasional young whimper.

He was awakened before dawn by early firecrackers. He heard the tramping of feet. He lay taut. Then he awoke again, at seven-thirty, and was slightly angry that nothing happened.

The M.M.'s brought out their burnished helmets and all the rideable horses in the neighborhood—some of them known as most superior plow-horses—for the great celebration of the New Freedom on the morning of Fourth of July. There was no post of the American Legion in the jaunty parade. That organization had been completely suppressed, and a number of American Legion leaders had been shot. Others had tactfully taken posts in the M.M. itself.

The troops, in hollow square, with the ordinary citizenry humbly jammed in behind them and the Jessup family rather hoity-toity on the outskirts, were addressed by Ex-Governor Isham Hubbard, a fine ruddy old rooster who could say "Cock-a-doodle-do" with more profundity than any fowl since Æsop. He announced that the Chief had extraordinary resemblances to Washington, Jefferson, and William B. McKinley, and to Napoleon on his better days.

The trumpets blew, the M.M.'s gallantly marched off nowhere in particular, and Doremus went home, feeling much better after his laugh. Following noon dinner, since it was raining, he proposed a game of contract to Emma, Mary, and Sissy—with Mrs. Candy as volunteer umpire.

But the thunder of the hill country disquieted him. Whenever he was dummy, he ambled to a window. The rain ceased; the sun came out for a false, hesitating moment, and the wet grass looked unreal. Clouds with torn bottoms, like the hem of a ragged skirt, were driven down the valley, cutting off the bulk of Mount Faithful; the sun went out as in a mammoth catastrophe; and instantly the world was in unholy darkness, which poured into the room.

"Why, it's quite dark, isn't it! Sissy, turn on the lights," said Emma.

The rain attacked again, in a crash, and to Doremus, looking out, the whole knowable world seemed washed out. Through the deluge he saw a huge car flash, the great wheels throwing up fountains. "Wonder what make of car that is? Must be a sixteen-cylinder Cadillac, I guess," reflected Doremus. The car swerved into his own gateway, almost knocking down a gatepost, and stopped with a jar at his porch. From it leaped five Minute Men, black waterproof capes over their uniforms. Before he could quite get through the reflection that he recognized none of them, they were there in the room. The leader, an ensign (and most certainly Doremus did not recognize him) marched up to Doremus, looked at him casually, and struck him full in the face.

Except for the one light pink of the bayonet when he had been arrested before, except for an occasional toothache or headache, or a smart when he had banged a fingernail, Doremus Jessup had not for thirty years known authentic pain. It was as incredible as it was horrifying, this torture in his eyes and nose and crushed mouth. He stood bent, gasping, and the Ensign again smashed his face, and observed, "You are under arrest."

Mary had launched herself on the Ensign, was hitting at him with a china ash tray. Two M.M.'s dragged her off, threw her on the couch, and one of them pinned her there. The other two guards were bulking over the paralyzed Emma, the galvanized Sissy.

Doremus vomited suddenly and collapsed, as though he were dead drunk.

He was conscious that the five M.M.'s were yanking the books from the shelves and hurling them on the floor, so that the covers split, and with their pistol butts smashing vases and lamp shades and small occasional tables. One of them tattooed a rough M M on the white paneling above the fireplace with shots from his automatic.

The Ensign said only, "Careful, Jim," and kissed the hysterical Sissy.

Doremus struggled to get up. An M.M. kicked him in the elbow. It felt like death itself, and Doremus writhed on the floor. He heard them tramping upstairs. He remembered then that his manuscript about the murders by Provincial Commissioner Effingham Swan was hidden in the Franklin stove in his study.

The sound of their smashing of furniture in the bedrooms on the second floor was like that of a dozen wood-choppers gone mad.

In all his agony, Doremus struggled to get up—to set fire to the papers in the stove before they should be found. He tried to look at his women. He could make out Mary, tied to the couch. (When had that ever happened?) But his vision was too blurred, his mind too bruised, to see anything clearly. Staggering, sometimes creeping on his hands and knees, he did actually get past the men in the bedrooms and up the stairs to the third floor and his study.

He was in time to see the Ensign throwing his best-beloved books and his letter files, accumulated these twenty years, out of the study window, to see him search the papers in the Franklin stove, look up with cheerful triumph and cackle, "Nice piece you've written here, I guess, Jessup. Commissioner Swan will love to see it!"

"I demand—see—Commissioner Ledue—Dist' Commissioner Tasbrough— friends of mine," stammered Doremus.

"Don't know a thing about them. I'm running this show," the Ensign chuckled, and slapped Doremus, not very painfully, merely with a shamefulness as great as Doremus's when he realized that he had been so cowardly as to appeal to Shad and Francis. He did not open his mouth again, did not whimper nor even amuse the troopers by vainly appealing on behalf of the women, as he was hustled down two flights of stairs—they threw him down the lower flight and he landed on his raw shoulder—and out to the big car.

The M.M. driver, who had been waiting behind the wheel, already had the engine running. The car whined away, threatening every instant to skid. But the Doremus who had been queasy about skidding did not notice. What could he do about it, anyway? He was helpless between two troopers in the back seat, and his powerlessness to make the driver slow up seemed part of all his powerlessness before the dictator's power... he who had always so taken it for granted that in his dignity and social security he was just slightly superior to laws and judges and policemen, to all the risks and pain of ordinary workers.

He was unloaded, like a balky mule, at the jail entrance of the courthouse. He resolved that when he was led before Shad he would so rebuke the scoundrel that he would not forget it. But Doremus was not taken into the courthouse. He was kicked toward a large, black-painted, unlettered truck by the entrance—literally kicked, while even in his bewildered anguish he speculated, "I wonder which is worse?—the physical pain of being kicked, or the mental humiliation of being turned into a slave? Hell! Don't be sophistical! It's the pain in the behind that hurts most!"

He was hiked up a stepladder into the back of the truck.

From the unlighted interior a moan, "My God, not you too, Dormouse!" It was the voice of Buck Titus, and with him as prisoners were Truman Webb and Dan Wilgus. Dan was in handcuffs, because he had fought so.

The four men were too sore to talk much as they felt the truck lurch away and they were thrown against one another. Once Doremus spoke truthfully, "I don't know how to tell you how ghastly sorry I am to have got you into this!" and once he lied, when Buck groaned, "Did those ——- ——-hurt the girls?"

They must have ridden for three hours. Doremus was in such a coma of suffering that even though his back winced as it bounced against the rough floor and his face was all one neuralgia, he drowsed and woke to terror, drowsed and woke, drowsed and woke to his own helpless wailing.

The truck stopped. The doors were opened on lights thick among white brick buildings. He hazily saw that they were on the one-time Dartmouth campus—headquarters now of the Corpo District Commissioner.

That commissioner was his old acquaintance Francis Tasbrough! He would be released! They would be freed, all four!

The incredulity of his humiliation cleared away. He came out of his sick fear like a shipwrecked man sighting an approaching boat.

But he did not see Tasbrough. The M.M.'s, silent save for mechanical cursing, drove him into a hallway, into a cell which had once been part of a sedate classroom, left him with a final clout on the head. He dropped on a wooden pallet with a straw pillow and was instantly asleep. He was too dazed—he who usually looked recordingly at places—to note then or afterward what his cell was like, except that it appeared to be filled with sulphuric fumes from a locomotive engine.

When he came to, his face seemed frozen stiff. His coat was torn, and foul with the smell of vomit. He felt degraded, as though he had done something shameful.

His door was violently opened, a dirt-clotted bowl of feeble coffee, with a crust of bread faintly smeared with oleomargarine, was thrust at him, and after he had given them up, nauseated, he was marched out into the corridor, by two guards, just as he wanted to go to the toilet. Even that he could forget in the paralysis of fear. One guard seized him by the trim small beard and yanked it, laughing very much. "Always did want to see whether a billygoat whisker would pull out or not!" snickered the guard. While he was thus tormented, Doremus received a crack behind his ear from the other man, and a scolding command, "Come on, goat! Want us to milk you? You dirty little so-and-so! What you in for? You look like a little Kike tailor, you little ——-"

"Him?" the other scoffed. "Naw! He's some kind of a half-eared hick newspaper editor—they'll sure shoot him—sedition—but I hope they'll beat hell out of him first for being such a bum editor."

"Him? An editor? Say! Listen! I got a swell idea. Hey! Fellas!" Four or five other M.M.'s, half dressed, looked out from a room down the hall. "This-here is a writing-fellow! I'm going to make him show us how he writes! Lookit!"

The guard dashed down the corridor to a door with the sign "Gents" hung out in front of it, came back with paper, not clean, threw it in front of Doremus, and yammered, "Come on, boss. Show us how you write your pieces! Come on, write us a piece—with your nose!" He was iron-strong. He pressed Doremus's nose down against the filthy paper and held it there, while his mates giggled. They were interrupted by an officer, commanding, though leniently, "Come on, boys, cut out the monkeyshines and take this ——-to the bull pen. Trial this morning."

Doremus was led to a dirty room in which half-a-dozen prisoners were waiting. One of them was Buck Titus. Over one eye Buck had a slatternly bandage which had so loosened as to show that his forehead was cut to the bone. Buck managed to wink jovially. Doremus tried, vainly, to keep from sobbing.

He waited an hour, standing, arms tight at his side, at the demands of an ugly-faced guard, snapping a dog whip with which he twice slashed Doremus when his hands fell lax.

Buck was led into the trial room just before him. The door was closed. Doremus heard Buck cry out terribly, as though he had been wounded to death. The cry faded into a choked gasping. When Buck was led out of the inner room, his face was as dirty and as pale as his bandage, over which blood was now creeping. The man at the door of the inner room jerked his thumb sharply at Doremus, and snarled, "You're NEXT!"

Now he would face Tasbrough!

But in the small room into which he had been taken—and he was confused, because somehow he had expected a large courtroom—there was only the Ensign who had arrested him yesterday, sitting at a table, running through papers, while a stolid M.M. stood on either side of him, rigid, hand on pistol holster.

The Ensign kept him waiting, then snapped with disheartening suddenness, "Your name!"

"You know it!"

The two guards beside Doremus each hit him.

"Your name?"

"Doremus Jessup."

"You're a Communist!"

"No I'm not!"

"Twenty-five lashes—and the oil."

Not believing, not understanding, Doremus was rushed across the room, into a cellar beyond. A long wooden table there was dark with dry blood, stank with dry blood. The guards seized Doremus, sharply jerked his head back, pried open his jaws, and poured in a quart of castor oil. They tore off his garments above the belt, flung them on the sticky floor. They threw him face downward on the long table and began to lash him with a one-piece steel fishing rod. Each stroke cut into the flesh of his back, and they beat him slowly, relishing it, to keep him from fainting too quickly. But he was unconscious when, to the guards' great diversion, the castor oil took effect. Indeed he did not know it till he found himself limp on a messy piece of gunnysacking on the floor of his cell.

They awakened him twice during the night to demand, "You're a Communist, heh? You better admit it! We're going to beat the living tar out of you till you do!"

Though he was sicker than he had ever been in his life, yet he was also angrier; too angry to admit anything whatever, even to save his wrecked life. He simply snarled "No." But on the third beating he savagely wondered if "No" was now a truthful answer. After each questioning he was pounded again with fists, but not lashed with the steel rod, because the headquarters doctor had forbidden it.

He was a sporty-looking young doctor in plus-fours. He yawned at the guards, in the blood-reeking cellar, "Better cut out the lashes or this ——-will pass out on you."

Doremus raised his head from the table to gasp, "You call yourself a doctor, and you associate with these murderers?"

"Oh, shut up, you little ——-! Dirty traitors like you deserve to be beaten to death—and maybe you will be, but I think the boys ought to save you for the trial!" The doctor showed his scientific mettle by twisting Doremus's ear till it felt as though it were torn off, chuckled, "Go to it, boys," and ambled away, ostentatiously humming.

For three nights he was questioned and lashed—once, late at night, by guards who complained of the inhuman callousness of their officers in making them work so late. They amused themselves by using an old harness strap, with a buckle on it, to beat him.

He almost broke down when the examining Ensign declared that Buck Titus had confessed their illegal propaganda, and narrated so many details of the work that Doremus could almost have believed in the confession. He did not listen. He told himself, "No! Buck would die before he'd confess anything. It's all Aras Dilley's spying."

The Ensign cooed, "Now if you'll just have the sense to copy your friend Titus and tell us who's in the conspiracy besides him and you and Wilgus and Webb, we'll let you go. We know, all right—oh, we know the whole plot!—but we just want to find out whether you've finally come to your senses and been converted, my little friend. Now who else was there? Just give us their names. We'll let you go. Or would you like the castor oil and the whip again?"

Doremus did not answer.

"Ten lashes," said the Ensign.

He was chased out for half an hour's walk on the campus every afternoon—probably because he would have preferred lying on his hard cot, trying to keep still enough so that his heart would stop its deathly hammering. Half a hundred prisoners marched there, round and round senselessly. He passed Buck Titus. To salute him would have meant a blow from the guards. They greeted each other with quick eyelids, and when he saw those untroubled spaniel eyes, Doremus knew that Buck had not squealed.

And in the exercise yard he saw Dan Wilgus, but Dan was not walking free; he was led out from the torture rooms by guards, and with his crushed nose, his flattened ear, he looked as though he had been pounded by a prizefighter. He seemed partly paralyzed. Doremus tried to get information about Dan from a guard in his cell corridor. The guard—a handsome, clear-cheeked young man, noted in a valley of the White Mountains as a local beau, and very kind to his mother—laughed, "Oh, your friend Wilgus? That chump thinks he can lick his weight in wildcats. I hear he always tries to soak the guards. They'll take that out of him, all right!"

Doremus thought, that night—he could not be sure, but he thought he heard Dan wailing, half the night. Next morning he was told that Dan, who had always been so disgusted when he had had to set up the news of a weakling's suicide, had hanged himself in his cell.

Then, unexpectedly, Doremus was taken into a room, this time reasonably large, a former English classroom turned into a court, for his trial.

But it was not District Commissioner Francis Tasbrough who was on the bench, nor any Military Judge, but no less a Protector of the People than the great new Provincial Commissioner, Effingham Swan.

Swan was looking at Doremus's article about him as Doremus was led up to stand before the bench. He spoke—and this harsh, tired-looking man was no longer the airy Rhodes Scholar who had sported with Doremus once like a boy pulling the wings off flies.

"Jessup, do you plead guilty to seditious activities?"

"Why—" Doremus looked helplessly about for something in the way of legal counsel.

"Commissioner Tasbrough!" called Swan.

So at last Doremus did see his boyhood playmate.

Tasbrough did nothing so commendable as to avoid Doremus's eyes. Indeed he looked at Doremus directly, and most affably, as he spoke his piece:

"Your Excellency, it gives me great pain to have to expose this man, Jessup, whom I have known all my life, and tried to help, but he always was a smart-aleck—he was a laughing-stock in Fort Beulah for the way he tried to show off as a great political leader!—and when the Chief was elected, he was angry because he didn't get any political office, and he went about everywhere trying to disaffect people—I have heard him do so myself."

"That's enough. Thanks. County Commissioner Ledue... Captain Ledue, is it or is it not true that the man Jessup tried to persuade you to join a violent plot against my person?"

But Shad did not look at Doremus as he mumbled, "It's true."

Swan crackled, "Gentlemen, I think that that, plus the evidence contained in the prisoner's own manuscript, which I hold here, is sufficient testimony. Prisoner, if it weren't for your age and your damn silly senile weakness, I'd sentence you to a hundred lashes, as I do all the other Communists like you that threaten the Corporate State. As it is, I sentence you to be held in concentration camp, at the will of the Court, but with a minimum sentence of seventeen years." Doremus calculated rapidly. He was sixty-two now. He would be seventy-nine then. He never would see freedom again. "And, in the power of issuing emergency decrees, conferred upon me as Provincial Commissioner, I also sentence you to death by shooting, but I suspend that sentence—though only until such time as you may be caught trying to escape! And I hope you'll have just lots and lots of time in prison, Jessup, to think about how clever you were in this entrancing article you wrote about me! And to remember that any nasty cold morning they may take you out in the rain and shoot you." He ended with a mild suggestion to the guards: "And twenty lashes!"

Two minutes later they had forced castor oil down him; he lay trying to bite at the stained wood of the whipping-table; and he could hear the whish of the steel fishing rod as a guard playfully tried it out in the air before bringing it down across the crisscross wounds of his raw back.

#hellsitesonlybookclub #bookblr #sinclair lewis

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whatisonthemoon · 1 year

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Reverend Moon Rises Above Ailing Businesses (1999)

By Don Kirk, International Herald Tribune Feb. 5, 1999

▲ Pictured: Reverend Sun Myung Moon addresses the Third International Ocean Challenge in Kodiak Alaska, September 9 through October 18, 1998. Peter Kim translates. (source: tparents.org)

The Reverend Sun Myung Moon, leader of the Unification Church, opened a "world culture and sports festival" Thursday night asking participants: "What happens to us when we die?" His temporal business empire in South Korea, meanwhile, was asking: How do we repay debts approaching $2 billion

Weakness emerged within the Tong Il group, a conglomerate whose name means "unification," as Mr. Moon toured South Korea over the past week drumming up support for his church and his companies.

"The Tong Il companies suffer from bad management," said Huh Man Jo, who is monitoring the restructuring efforts of Korea's chaebol, or conglomerates, for the government's newly formed financial supervisory service. "They relied too much on church donations. It was a kind of moral hazard."

Mr. Huh said the debts of the group's 16 companies exceed 2 trillion won ($1.7 billion).

Its four leading companies, which manufacture products ranging from ginseng tea to tank guns, were all bankrupt awaiting reorganization under court supervision, he said.

Mr. Moon appeared oblivious to his earthly problems Thursday night. Alexander Haig, a former secretary of state and White House chief of staff during Richard Nixon's presidency, introduced him as "a leading force for inter-religious dialogue and understanding between peoples of all backgrounds."

The closest Mr. Moon came to mentioning the companies that he founded in the 1960s as the basis for his worldwide ministry was when he told a rapt audience that "Earth is but a speck of dust."

The spirit world that people enter after death transcends time and space, Mr. Moon said, speaking in Korean after a six-course banquet. Interpreters translated into seven languages for an audience that included former Third World heads of state and ambassadors. "There are no factories there to produce food," Mr. Moon said. "There are no automobile factories. There is nothing like that."

In the real world, the Tong Il group's flagship Tong Il Heavy Industries Co., founded in 1962, has suffered the most of any of the companies in the group.

The factory, which produces motor vehicle transmissions, has had to lay off 40 percent of its or conglomerates, for the government.

2,000 workers as a result of sagging car sales in South Korea, said Seo Pyong Kyu, a manager in the group's financial planning department.

"There is a cash flow deficit," Mr. Seo said. "Production is very low."

Church donations, a traditional source of funding in hard times, "have helped but are very much limited," said Mr. Seo. "Maybe we can expect the Reverend Moon to help, but it is not certain."

Mr. Moon, who maintains a headquarters in New York but has been spending much of his time on a vast farm project in Brazil, focused throughout his speaking tour of South Korea on the theme of "family ethics and world peace," the topic of a three-day series of seminars sponsored by the church. The festival is scheduled to wind up Sunday with a mass wedding in which 40,000 couples will exchange vows in Seoul's Olympic Stadium in a ceremony broadcast worldwide by cable. As in previous mass weddings, Mr. Moon himself has personally selected many of the marriage partners flying in from throughout the world, from submitted photographs and brief biographies.

Periodically, however, the realities of South Korea's economic crisis intruded upon his national tour.

At stops on the way, workers who had lost their jobs staged demonstrations accusing Mr. Moon's lieutenants of illegally dismissing them without pay. During an appearance in Pusan, South Korea's largest port city, workers from Tong Il Oil Heavy Industries briefly threatened violence.

Mr. Moon did not talk directly to the workers, leaving negotiations to his lieutenants. The response from management was not sympathetic.

"They want to get money from the company," said Ahn Ho Yeol, vice president in charge of the Korean branch of its Youth Federation for World Peace. "We cannot make money. They did not work. We did not offer them money."

Mr. Moon opened his remarks Thursday night by calling for "the realization of a culture of love, a global culture of heart."

Pak Bo Hee, who co-founded The Washington Times with Mr. Moon, goes to North Korea on Monday to negotiate the rights to open a tourist service to the North and to join the celebration of the 57th birthday of the North Korean leader Kim Jong Il on Feb. 16.

Tong Il Heavy Industries, meanwhile, survives on military contracts that it first obtained during the rule of Park Chung Hee, a former general who ruled South Korea for 18 years until his assassination in 1979. "We make rifles and cannon for tanks," said a company official. "The contract is going on."

Source: NY Times

Related articles and notes

Two articles below shed light on the relationship between Moon and Alexander Haig, who in the article above called Moon “ a leading force for inter-religious dialogue and understanding between peoples of all backgrounds."

Excerpted from article: taken from a Facts and Details article n Sun Myung Moon

“After Moon’s release from a US prison after serving 13 months he was still welcomed by the great and good. At various times he met or received support from the British prime ministers Margaret Thatcher and Edward Heath, ex-presidents Gerald Ford and George Bush Sr, Canadian ex-premier Brian Mulroney, US senators Strom Thurmond, Jesse Helms, William Fulbright and Orrin Hatch, Reagan’s defence secretary Caspar Weinberger, the former Nato chief general Alexander Haig, former US education secretary William Bennett, Boston University president John Silber, Christian Coalition ex-chief Ralph Reed, and the rightwing Christian leader the Rev Jerry Falwell.

Excerpted from a paper: The Unificationist Funerary Tradition by Lukas Pokorny describes the seunghwa’s role and evolution in UC/FFWPU history

“[“Honoring a Legacy of Peace”] was held on 18 March 2010 in the New York UN headquarters, 37 “involving” the spirits of Alexander Haig (1924–2010), a general and Secretary of State under Ronald Reagan (1911–2004; p. 1981–1989); 38 former South Korean president and Nobel Peace Prize Laureate Kim Tae-jung 김대중/金大中 (1924–2009; p. 1998–2003); Hédi Annabi (1943–2010), the head of the UN Stabilisation Mission in Haiti, and some one-hundred of his staff, who died when the Port-au-Prince UN Headquarters collapsed during the Haiti Earthquake; former Costa Rican president Rodrigo Carazo Odio (1926–2009; p. 1978–82) called by Mun a Peace President (p’yŏnghwa’ŭi taet’ongnyŏng 평화의 대통령) for his role in the establishment of the University for Peace; former Indonesian president Abdurrahman Wahid (1940–2009; p. 1999–2001); former Icelandic prime minister Steingrímur Hermannsson (1928–2010), who hosted the 1986 Reykjavík Summit between Reagan and Mikhail Gorbachev (b. 1931); the Senegalese head of the Tijaniyyah Sufi order Hassan Cissé 1945–2008); and the Indian politician and diplomat Laxmi Mall Singhvi (1931–2007), whom Mun called an Ambassador of Reconciliation and Peace (hwahae’wa p’yŏnghwa’ŭi taesa 화해와 평화의 대사). On 13 April 2010, the first of a corresponding series of events held in South Korea—the World Peace Leaders Memorial Unification Seunghwa Festival Commemoration Meeting (segye p’yŏnghwa chidoja ch’umo t’ongil sŭnghwa ch’ukche kinyŏm taehoe 세계평화지도자추모통일승화축제기념대회/世界平和指導者追慕統一昇華祝祭紀念大會)—was staged in Seoul. 39 There the Seunghwa Blessing was once again given to Haig, Kim, Annabi, Carazo Odio, and Wahid. Additional receivers were Douglas MacArthur (1880–1964); the former South Korean minister of labour Cho Ch’ŏl-gwŏn 조철권/趙澈權 (1929–2007); the former Nepalese prime minister Girija Prasad Koirala (1924–2010); the naval diver Han Chu-ho 한주호/韓主浩 (1958–2010), who died on a rescue mission for the Ch’ŏnan corvette which was scuppered by a North Korean torpedo in March 2010; 40 and, surprisingly, also the Unificationist elder Kim Wŏn-p’il 김원필/金元弼 (1928–2010), who had already obtained a World Seunghwa Ceremony a few days prior.

Excerpted from article: The below excerpt is from a Forbes article ‘Reaching for the Stars’ by Toni Fitzgerald that reveals that Paul Rogers, a professional Moonie, was able to make profit with Moon-associated businesses during the South Korean financial crisis. Rogers is known to have had strong business relationships with notable UC leaders, such as both Kwak and Pak.

In the late 1990s, the darkest days of South Korea’s financial crisis, operators such as Paul Rogers of Lehman Brothers were parachuting in to pick through the bargains. But amid all the moneylosing units being shed by the country’s conglomerates, what caught his eye was something that wasn’t for sale: a vacant 12-acre lot. It was in the heart of Yeouido, the island in the Han River that serves as Seoul’s financial and broadcasting district.

Owned by Reverend Moon Song-myung’s Unification Church Foundation, the giant lot had sat empty for three decades. Best known internationally for its cultish practices and its members, called Moonies, the church is also a business empire with interests ranging from media properties to North Korean industrial ventures. And like other Korean conglomerates, it needed money. “Investment banks were making a quick buck from acquiring and flipping distressed assets,” says Rogers, then Lehman’s head of structured finance for Asia. “I saw a much bigger opportunity: developing whole city blocks and making an impact on Asian cities which are sorely in need of iconic but commercially successful projects.”

Excerpt from article: Excerpted from Joongang Daily's 2010 article on Kook Jin Moon, 'Business Engine Of A Global Faith' by Kim Hyung-eun

Chairman [Kook Jin Moon] Moon, in a recent interview with Forbes, said he has high hopes for TIC, and that he is proud the company produces axles for armored vehicles. TIC was established by merging several subsidiaries of Tongil Heavy Industries, which previously supplied hardware for the Korean armed forces.

Other units include building management company Seilo, helicopter operator Tongil Air Systems and agricultural company Pyeongnong.

Through these entities, Tongil Group finances about 20 religious and educational institutions, including the Sun Moon University, Sunhwa Arts High School, music group the Little Angels and others.

But Tongil Group is not the only fiefdom in the Unification Church's business empire. It's not to be confused with Unification Church International, which is run by Kook-jin's older brother Hyun-jin and whose major businesses include the The Washington Times and True World Foods in the U.S. as well as Marriott hotels and the Central City complex in Korea.

Video: A 1 minute clip from the Japanese news of a Japanese UC service in 1998 where a church leader begged and guilted members to make a donation. This was a year after the South Korean financial crash and UC families in Japan were forced to make a $16,000 donation. This was during Japan’s decade(s) of economic stagnation.

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whdmotor · 2 years

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What Are The Spindle Motor and Its Head?

Spindle Motor

Since its foundation in 1998, Changzhou Troy Mechanical assembly and Electric Co., Ltd. has been an imaginative herald in the preparation, collecting, and Rapid Shaft Engines.

To ensure that our things are of the best quality, we are constantly placing assets into a new, top-tier contraption for creation and testing. Clients both at home and abroad have come to trust us because of our cutting-edge advancement and unsurprising quality. Our “WHD” picture is ending up being logically outstanding.

Things from our STZ, STF, STM, STL, and STX series are by and large found in CNC switches, scratching machines, exhausting machines, edge banding machines, and other equivalent contraptions. Additionally, we can make custom axle engines to meet our client’s specific necessities. We have conveyed our things all over the place, including to the US, Russia, Europe, India, Brazil, Iran, and various countries, for the sole purpose of staying aware of our association’s key conviction of putting the client first.

A CNC spindle is an unstable, changed bar with fixing shuts that is used close by going to curve and bend string from a mass of downy or flax carried on a distaff.

The Functioning Guideline of the Electric Shaft: The times of the windings of the incredible speed electric pivot motor are 120° not equivalent to each other. After the three-stage trading current is applied, the three-stage windings each construct a sinusoidal pivoting appealing field. The appealing field turns at a reliable speed in a particular bearing, the alluring field speed is the planned speed of the electric spindle motor. The synchronous speed n of the odd isn’t firmly established by the repeat f of the data motor stator winding current and the number of axles matches P of the motor stator (n=60f/p).

The CNC spindle motor is to procure various speeds by changing the repeat and excitation voltage of the stream commitment to the stator turning of the motor. During the time spent on speed increment and dialing back, speed increment and deceleration are performed by changing the repeat to avoid an outrageous temperature increase of the motor. Since the heading of the substituting alluring field of the engine depends upon the stage plan of the three-stage trading current commitment to the stator, changing the stage gathering of the data current of the motorized pivot can change the upheaval course of the automated shaft.

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diabolus1exmachina · 2 years

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Singer Chamois

Singer Motors Limited was a British motor vehicle manufacturing business, originally a bicycle manufacturer founded in 1874 in Coventry. From 1901 George Singer's Singer Motor Co made cars and commercial vehicles. The last car to carry the Singer name was an upmarket version of the rear engined Hillman Imp called the Chamois. The Singer Chamois was introduced in October 1964. Changes to the Singer iteration included a beautiful polished walnut veneer dash, larger and much more comfortable seats, better instrumentation which included additional temperature and oil pressure gauges, and the heater came as standard kit.

Improving on the Imp required more than a few cosmetic changes being made inside the cabin. The Imp was fitted with C41 crossplies that caused gradual understeer. Instead the engineers shod the Chamois with Dunlop SP41 radials fitted to wider (1/2") rim wheels - these bring far improved handling, proving to be neutral up to much higher speeds. Other differences included a heavier clutch and better sound damping.

With all the improvements made to the Chamois, the press were very kind to the newcomer, deeming it to be far better than the competition, which included some pretty good cars, such as the Riley Elf, Wolseley Hornet, Ford Anglia Super and Triumph Herald 12/50.

The Mark II arrived in September 1965, although there were only very minor changes. Then in April 1967 there were a limited edition of Chamois Spring specials, and in October 1968 the Mk II designation was discontinued.

Along with the rest of the range the Chamois was given a new dashboard layout with full width facia and round dials; new seats and upholstery and different external trim. Both the Chamois and Chamois Sport gained four headlights but lost their pretty veneer trim and had to make do with plastic 'wood' trimming instead.

#Singer Chamois #Hillman Imp

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azspot · 4 years

Link

Last year companies such as Uber, Lyft, DoorDash, and Instacart spent a record $200 million campaigning for an Election Day ballot measure that would exempt them from the California law, arguing in ads and in-app messages that keeping drivers contractors would protect their ability to work. They won: Proposition 22, as the ballot measure is known, now limits their drivers in California to a set of sub-employee alternative perks such as an “earnings guarantee” that doesn’t count the time or gas they burn waiting between trips. Prop 22 also insulates itself from future reform efforts by preempting local laws and requiring that any tweaks by the state legislature comport with its intent and pass with a seven-eighths supermajority. All this has left many drivers feeling stranded in the worst of both worlds—as beholden to bosses’ whims as employees, without the corresponding protections.

Employees in related fields are already feeling the knock-on effects. In December, Albertsons Cos., the supermarket chain, started informing delivery drivers they’d be replaced by contractors. In California hundreds of Albertsons employees are being swapped for DoorDash Inc. workers, according to the United Food & Commercial Workers union. Albertsons declined to comment on the layoff figures but says that the move is happening in multiple states to “help us create a more efficient operation” and that affected workers are being offered other jobs there. (Some workers dispute that last part.) Startups such as Jyve Corp., which sends contractors to grocery stores to stock shelves in lieu of employees, are seeking similar exemptions.

Companies in a range of industries could use the Prop 22 model to undermine or eliminate employment protections. A week after the election, Shawn Carolan, a partner at early Uber investor Menlo Ventures, wrote an op-ed heralding the potential to spread Prop 22’s vision of work “from agriculture to zookeeping,” including to “nursing, executive assistance, tutoring, programming, restaurant work and design.” The Coalition for Workforce Innovation, a lobbying group that seeks to enable wider use of contract labor, includes trade groups representing Amazon.com, Apple, AT&T, Comcast NBCUniversal, CVS Health, General Motors, Nike, Rite Aid, Starbucks, T-Mobile, Verizon Communications, and Walmart, as well as construction, finance, media, sales, and trucking interests.

Now gig companies are pressing their advantage. While pushing Prop 22 as a national model, they’re also aiming to secure deals with unions in states like New York and California that could codify some form of union representation as well as benefits without making workers employees. “We hope other states will listen to the voices of drivers and delivery people who strongly support new laws that make gig work better,” says Uber spokesperson Matt Wing. (Gig companies have also been in talks with Unifor, Canada’s largest private-sector union.) The companies have a lot more leverage now, Aloise says, because Prop 22 already declared drivers contractors: “Are we going to accept it, or are we going to still try to fight over it?”

#gigeconomy #uber

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speedracer2008isart · 4 years

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The Amazing Racer Family Tree

Rapid Ronnie Racer (1876 - 1951): Took part in the early days of racing as a rally racer. Raced in the 1st WRL Grand Prix in 1893 and in the 1st Casa Cristo Rally in 1902. Began the family passion for cars and racing. Died of a heart attack. Known as "Pappy" to his children and "Grandpappy" to his grandchildren.

Giulia Racer née Carpentier (1876 - 1953): Rapid Ronnie's wife. She was a mechanic. Died of cancer.

Herald Racer (1901 - 1963): The first son of Rapid Ronnie and Giulia. He drove in the demo derby circuit. Died in a car crash. Known as "Pa" to his children and "Grandpa" to his children.

Ruby Racer née Fuhrmann (1900 - ): Herald's wife. She was an auto instructor, but now works as a car detailer.

Spitfire Racer (1904 - ): The second son of Rapid Ronnie and Giulia. A brilliant mechanic and engineer. Owned an autoshop. Retired.

Vitesse Racer (1904 - ): Twin sister of Spitfire. A mechanic and the first stunt racer in the Racer family. She set the first course record at Thunderhead when the track opened in 1945.

Henry Racer Sr. (1930 - ): Firstborn son of Herald and Ruby. Owns and runs an autoshop, Racer Auto, which was formerly owned by his uncle, Spitfire.

Daytona Racer née Masson (1930 - 1965): Henry's wife. She was an automotive lawyer. Died of heart disease.

Dragon Racer (1933 - ): Second son of Herald and Ruby. A genius engineer and innovator. Founded Racer Motors. Known as "Pops."

Aya Racer née Mifune (1933 - ): Dragon's wife. Her family owned a car dealership, Mifune Motors, that went bankrupt. She was a stunt racer in her youth and coached her eldest son when he started racing. She has since retired from racing and now co-owns Racer Motors with her husband.

Henry Racer Jr. "Hank" (1954 - ): Son of Henry Sr. and Daytona. Was a professional stunt racer, but was forced into early retirement after an injury. He became a racing coach and coached his younger cousin, Speed.

Rex Racer (1955 - 1974): Dragon's and Aya's oldest son. He drove for Racer Motors before leaving and signing on with Uniron. He died in a crash while racing in the 72nd annual Casa Cristo Classic. Race fixer Blackjack Benelli was believed to be behind the crash.

Sparky Racer (1956 - ): Formerly Sparky Sabu, he was adopted by Dragon and Aya in 1968 when he was 12 years old. Sparky is the electrical mechanic for Racer Motors. He was formerly Rex's racing spotter and currently spots for Speed.

Speed Racer (1965 - ): The second born son of Dragon and Aya, Speed is a natural behind the wheel. A professional stunt racer, he won the 91st annual Grand Prix and shattered the lap record in 1984.

Spritle Racer: (1974 - ): The youngest of Dragon's and Aya's sons, Spritle is enrolled in the 5th grade. At ten years old, he's already knows more about engines than most exports. Spritle's a future genius engineer in the making.

#speed racer movieverse #speed racer 2008 #speed racer #rex racer #spritle racer #sparky racer #sparky sabu #pops racer #dragon racer #mom racer #aya racer #racer family #multiple ocs #henry racer sr.#hank racer

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scotianostra · 5 years

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I have a number of posts already scheduled by Tumblr for the coming days, this is an add on as I just discovered it while Rummaging around, I think it's only right to post it and take a few moments to remember all those in the emergency services that work through the festive season, and indeed all year to keep us safe.

Disaster struck on Christmas Eve 1927 when four firemen were killed during a warehouse fire on Graham Street.

49-year-old James Conn , Morrison Dunbar, 23, 31-year-old Harry W. McKellar and David Jeffrey, 24 died in the Gallowgate blaze.

Heartbroken colleagues worked through Christmas and for the next three days to recover their bodies.

The following is taken from The Glasgow Herald Tuesday, December 27, 1927.

FOUR FIREMEN PERISH

Christmas Eve Tragedy in Glasgow

EAST END WAREHOUSES GUTTED

ESTIMATED LOSS, £50,000

Four members of Glasgow Fire Brigade lost their lives while on duty at a fire in the East end of the city on Saturday night.

The scene of the fire was a six storey warehouse in Graham Square, and owing to the threatening circumstances many tenants of adjoining dwellings were warned out.Some of the tenants were absent at the time of the outbreak, and on return – carrying with them, in numerous instances, their parcels got in the course of Christmas shopping – were surprised and alarmed when informed that it was unsafe to enter their houses.A touching feature of the fire tragedy is that the men of the Eastern Division were enjoying Christmas festivities with their families in the Fire Station when the call which was to mean death to some of their colleagues in the Central.

FROM JOY TO SORROW

In the long history of the Fire Brigade of Glasgow many deeds of heroism stand to the credit of the men. In the great majority of cases their bravery has gone unnoticed or been known to a limited few – the instances of calm courage and of grave risks taken to save property and frequently life have come in the ordinary course of duty when no eye was there to see or pen to chronicle. It is only when such a tragedy as that of Christmas Eve shocks the community that full light is thrown on the dangerous nature of the fireman’s calling and recognition is paid to the magnificent manner in which he carries out his trying and difficult work.

While the Fire Brigade in Glasgow has enjoyed a remarkable immunity from loss of life when a period of, say, half a century is scanned, nevertheless death with unwelcome frequency has exacted a grim toll.

Surely never was the toll made under more distressing circumstances than on Saturday evening. The Eastern Division men, with their children and friends, were in the midst of Christmas rejoicings when the call came. The men are used to such breaks in the social round, and cheerfully they responded to the summons to duty, which is taken as a matter of course. With the celerity characteristic of the Brigade, the men from this and other Divisions with their equipment quickly set out for the scene of the fire, and the civilians remained behind to continue the happy entertainment, not dreaming of the dreadful fate that was soon to overtake four members of the Brigade, who, in the face of obvious danger, carried on till death overtook them.

The missing firemen are:–

James Conn (49), married, and with three of a family, who had 23 years’ service with the brigade.

H. W. M’Kellar (31), married.

David Jeffery (24), single.

Morrison Dunbar (23), single.

SCENE OF THE FIRE

The fire was located in Graham Square, a cul-de-sac on the north side of Gallowgate, which leads to an entrance to the Corporation Cattle Market. The east side of the square consists, starting from the Gallowgate end, of a modern tenement and of a brick building of six storeys with a frontage of 135ft, and a depth of 30ft. This building, which was totally destroyed, along with corrugated iron sheds, and a warehouse at the rear, contained business premises, workshops, and an hotel. The tenants of these premises are Messrs P. and R. Fleming, engineers 8-16 Graham Square; David Arthur, auctioneer, 12 Graham Square; Alexander Jack and Son (Limited), implement makers 20 Graham Square; Wilson, Ronald and Co. (Limited), wholesale grocers, 26-30 Graham Square; A. M’Vean and Co., manufacturers, 30 Graham Square; Thomas Dunlop, implement maker, 38 Graham Square; Pringle, Logan and Gallocher, seed merchants, 38 Graham Square; and James Houston, cabinetmaker, 12 Graham Square.

THE ALARM

About 8pm two constables on duty in Graham Square observed that fire had broken out in the premises occupied by James Houston. Further examination revealed that the outbreak had originated in a hoist at 34 Graham Square, which was used by several of the firms in the block. The constables smashed the fire alarm and turned out several detachments of the Fire Brigade. By this time the fire was extending to other parts of the building. On the arrival of the first two detachments of the Fire Brigade from the Central Station great volumes of smoke pouring from the building indicated that the flames had taken a firm hold, and further reinforcements were summoned, along with four pumps and the fire escape, Firemaster Waddell took charge of the operations.

FIREMEN WITHDRAWN

Immediately, the fire was attacked both from the interior of the building and from the street. The intense heat, the density of the smoke, and the general threat to the structure, made it obvious at an early stage of the operations that it was highly perilous for the firemen to remain for long periods inside the building. Therefore, adopting what methods they could, the firemen continued the main attack from the roadway in Graham Square, from the roofs of buildings to the east and south of the endangered premises, and even from the top of the fire escape. It soon became apparent that the entire structure was doomed and that any measures adopted by the Fire Brigade would be futile except to restrict the area of devastation.

TRAM SERVICE STOPPED

The flames were being strongly fanned by a north easterly breeze, and showers of sparks and poisonous clouds of smoke were causing much alarm in Gallowgate towards which they were drifting, and in which large crowds of spectators had gathered. The pungent smoke hung in dense clouds over the streets and sparks floated thickly down. The tramcar service, interrupted owing to the lines of hose across the street, was diverted for a period, and then was ultimately resumed over rail bridges. The tenants of houses, who had been Christmas shopping when the fire occurred, mingled with the crowd, their arms full of parcels. Some of them were unable to reach their homes, and experienced grave anxiety as the flames darted ominously higher and seemed to endanger the tenement.

TENANTS WARNED OUT

This tenement building, which adjoins the ruined warehouses was considered at this time to be within the danger zone, and the tenants were advised to consult with their own ultimate safety and desert their homes. There are nine families in the tenement, and the alarm was raised when most of the children had hung up their stockings and retired early to bed in eager expectation of Christmas morning. Some of the tenants elected to leave, and these assembled in the street to watch the battle with the flames, but others stayed in their homes during the entire course of the fire.

COLLAPSE OF WALLS AND ROOF

A thrill ran through the watching crowd when the roof of the burning building collapsed amid an awesome pyrotechnic display of flame and sparks, to be followed a few minutes later by the thunderous crash of large portions of the walls into the interior of the structure. Dust and smoke arose in suffocating clouds. With this fresh development the career of the fire was checked, however, and half an hour later – that is, two hours after the raising of the first alarm – the outbreak was under control, and the occupiers of the tenement were informed that they might return to their homes. Lines of hose were in use all through the night, however, as a precaution against further outbreak.

FATE OF THE FIREMEN

About ten o’clock the fire was so far extinguished that several detachments of the Fire Brigade were ordered to prepare to return to their stations. The discovery was then made as the motors were about to depart that four firemen from the Central Division were missing. An exhaustive inquiry was at once begun, but it was early feared that the men had been trapped in the building when the walls and flooring had collapsed. So far as can be ascertained the four missing men, along with others, were on the third floor at the south end of the building when the flames were first attacked. At that time the fire was confined largely to the northern end of the building, and it is assumed that with great fortitude the men had pressed some distance through the building towards the seat of the fire so as to be of greater service.

INSTANTANEOUS DEATH

Suddenly, it appears, there was a loud crash and the north end of the structure, towards which the men had gone, tumbled inwards, carrying several floors in a downward rush of destruction. Several of the firemen who were inside managed to get clear, and at that time it was thought that all of the firemen had emerged safely. When the first collapse occurred one of the officers at once dashed into the building and up the stairways right to the top flat to warn out the men. He met one fireman who was under the impression that he was the last to leave. Jeffrey was last observed when he called for more hose, and it is one theory that, furnished with the extra length of hose, he and his colleagues had courageously penetrated towards the seat of the fire unknown to their comrades – numbering 60, and widely dispersed – who were all actively at work. There seems no doubt, at all events, that they were caught in the devastating fall of beams and brickwork and hurled down to be buried in the immense heap of debris. It is certain, whether due to injuries or fire, that their death must have been practically instantaneous.

THE SEARCH BEGINS

As portions of the remaining walls were in an extremely dangerous condition, it was recognised, reluctantly, that it would be unwise to risk the lives of other firemen in an immediate endeavour to extricate the missing men from among the still smoking wreckage during the darkness of the night. Several firemen were posted on duty, and immediately daylight broke on Christmas morning a well equipped rescue party of firemen were dispatched to take up the tragic task of attempting to recover the bodies of their unfortunate comrades. A preliminary search was conducted with the assistance of a ladder and the fire escape, but it was found impossible to interfere to any great extent with the debris until the dangerous tottering and smoke blackened walls which marked the site of the destroyed building had been taken down. Accordingly another unavoidable hitch occurred in the work of retrieving the bodies while a gang of workmen, under the supervision of Mr Thomas Somers, Master of Works, demolished the dangerous walls.

THE DAMAGE

The loss caused by the fire is provisionally estimated at between £40,000 and £50,000.

SOCIAL FUNCTIONS CANCELLED

All of the social functions which usually take place at this time of year at the various fire stations in the city have been cancelled owing to the tragedy at Graham Square.

IN THE RUINS

SEARCHING FOR THE MISSING MEN

Throughout the day on Sunday gangs of firemen, working in relays, continued their tragic task of endeavouring to locate the bodies of their unfortunate comrades. They dug amongst the broken masonry with picks and shovels until darkness descended, but no trace of the bodies could then be found. Flare lamps were obtained in order that the work of the rescue might not be interrupted.

OXY-ACETYLENE BURNERS

Portions of shafting and heavy machinery had become so intertwined when the floors collapsed that it was extremely difficult to separate and remove the twisted metal from the debris. A number of skilled operators armed with oxy-acetylene burners were obtained from the Corporation Tramway Department. Many pieces of metal were cut through, and the task of removal was thus made less difficult. As the broken masonry, charred timber, and twisted machinery were taken from the building these were removed to the street by a large number of workmen. All night long the firemen laboured heroically, but their efforts to reach the entombed men were unsuccessful when daylight broke yesterday.

FRESH RELAYS OF WORKERS

Another batch of firemen took up the search, and were engaged all day in removing the tons of debris which separated them from their unfortunate comrades. By the afternoon they had succeeded in penetrating to a considerable depth in the centre of the ruined building, and they were hopeful of being able to reach the flooring at that point before darkness came on. The search is being continued.

Further articles tell us that the mens "badly ,mutilated" bodies were discovered on the Sunday and only identified by personal affects and remains of their uniforms, their funeral took place on December 30th The second pic is the grave in the city's Necropolis.

It's fair to say Glasgow has been blighted by fire much more than any other Scottish town or city, the Cheapside Street whisky bond fire in Glasgow on 28 March 1960 was Britain's worst peacetime fire services disaster. The fire at a whisky bond killed 14 fire service and 5 salvage corps personnel. The Kilbirnie Street fire, on Friday 25 August 1972, was a warehouse fire in the Port Eglinton area, on the south side of Glasgow cost seven firefighters their lives.

Thankfully the recent fires at most notably The Glasgow School of Art, even in the past week 40 firefighters were needed to extinguish a fire at Pitt Street in the city centre.

Nearby Paisley has not been immune either with the death toll at Glen Cinema disaster in 1929 being 71, I will post more on this very sad disaster on December 31st.

I sourced this story from this page which details The History of Scottish Fire Brigades http://www.graemekirkwood.co.uk/

I must add a shout out to Jennifer at Random Scottish History, a must read page for anyone interested in Scottish history https://randomscottishhistory.com/

#scotland #disaster #firefighters #loss of life #emergency services

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motocrunch · 11 months

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Herald Brat 125 and rider survey the Welsh Hills – Image: Herald Motor Co.

#moto love #motorcycle #motorbike #lifestyle #moto adventure #classic bike #moto life #motorcyclelove #Herald Brat 123 #vintage motorcycle #retro motorcycle #designer motorcycle #Herald motor Co.

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vintagepaintbynumbers-blog · 6 years

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Vintage Paint by Number

Be profitable! Endeavor not to spread out the hairs of the brush attempting to paint in an area significantly more quickly. This will quickly squash the brush and beat the fine tip. Apply fragile strain to wind the tips of the hairs to some degree and buoy the brush along the surface.vintage paint by numbers Think of it as the paper (or canvas) pulling the paint off the brush as opposed to using the brush to push the paint down.You'll see a few shapes have two numbers in them, not just one. This shows you need to join two tints. Square with degrees should give you a sensible shading, at any rate don't hop your brush from one paint compartment into the running with as you'll debase the tones.

Mix a slight bit of the two tints on a non-penetrable surface (like an old saucer), by then paint the region. If you endeavor to mix the two shades on the picture itself (as in the best photo), it's undeniably not hard to wrap up with a tremendous measure of paint and going over the edges of the shape. Plus, to wrap up with unevenly mixed paint.Be watchful about cleaning the brush before dunking it into another shading. You would lean toward not to defile a shading. A slight bit of a decrease shading very quickly makes a risky circumstance of a light shading! In case you do strikingly do this, don't mix it in yet use the side of an impeccable material or bit of paper towel to endeavor to cleanse it.Paint by number or painting by numbers portrays packs having a board on which light blue or dull lines show zones to paint, and each zone has a number and a relating numbered paint to use. The units were sorted out, made and appeared in 1950 by Max S. Klein, an originator and owner of the Palmer Paint Company of Detroit, Michigan, and Dan Robbins, a business artist.[1][2]

youtube

In children's development books, some prompt activities are as often as possible acquainted with children that are called shading by numbers. Right when Palmer Paint agreeable shaded pencils with clients, they what's more posted pictures online for a "Pastel by Number" assortment.

Paint by Numbers treatment has diverse central focuses. Moreover as extended power, it would all around have the ability to upgrade motor aptitudes, the ability to control hand and arm movements and the entire body and help people with slight tremors. It's in like path seemed to grow concentrationIn 2011, the Museum of Modern Art in New York saw four early structures of paint by number by Max Klein for its Department of Architecture and Design, given by Jacquelyn Schiffman.

In May 2011, Dan Robbins and Palmer Paint Products, Inc., together made and passed on to pitch another 60th-celebration paint by number set.[9] This gatherers' set was made in memory of the survivors and the overall public who had lost their lives on September 11, 2001, and depicts the Twin Towers staying in soul over the Manhattan skyline. A portion[clarification needed] of the advantages from this set is being given to the liberal affiliation Voices of SeptemberOrder a pack. Typical size for most painting units is 40X50 Cm or 16X20 In. You will get paints, brushes, canvas, screws, gets and direct card. It is recommended to create an edge with canvas.Stretch the canvas. Set up your contraptions. Have a bowl of water close by for washing brushes. Match the number from the canvas with the paint and start painting. Starting from the most lifted inspiration driving canvas is recommended.Step by step and number by number when you have completed it, you will be stupified by its hugeness. Edge it, hang it, see it and smile :) goodness better trust it, make a point to send us a photo review.In March 1951, clients of all ages slid on Macy's in New York City's Herald Square. Despite how the events were for quite a while completed, fortified customers stuffed in for a gander at the first in-store appearing to be another workmanship experience called paint-by-number. They swarmed the demonstrators and got diverse sets unequivocally. Anyone present could see that the unit had mass interest. As articulation of the free for all rehearsed the yearly New York City Toy Fair happening a couple of squares away, orders began pouring in from retailers around the country.In March 1951, clients of all ages dove on Macy's in New York City's Herald Square. Notwithstanding how the events were for quite a while completed, tense customers stuffed in for a glance at the first in-store show of another distinctive quality experience called paint-by-number. They swarmed the demonstrators and procured unmistakable sets convincingly. Anyone present could see that the unit had mass interest. As articulation of the free for all developed the yearly New York City Toy Fair happening a couple of squares away, orders began pouring in from retailers around the country.

There was just a singular issue: The customers were fake. Or then again usually fake. The creators of the wonder would never know obviously. The flood on Macy's was fairly a legend among the most great presentation stunts ever of or business. Regardless, the thing itself was invigorated by an other virtuoso—Leonardo da Vinci.

Right when Dan Robbins, the thirteenth laborer of Detroit-based Palmer Paint Co., read that da Vinci displayed his understudies the stray bits of painting by using numbered models on a canvas, he expected the idea may have persistently sweeping interest. So he endeavored to put out something different that would interest certain specialists everything considered.

Unfortunately, no one required his Craft Master paint-by-number packs. Most retailers feared customers wouldn't get the thought or wouldn't need such a helpful workmanship experience. Finally, S.S. Kresge (later Kmart) put everything on hold and put in a basic intrigue. Before long, due to a packaging disturbance, the paints for two units got swapped: Colors made diversion arrangements for "The Fishermen" ended up in boxes for "The Bullfighter." Hobbyists looked blue-caped matadors pulling in green bulls, considering where it had all turned out gravely. Hit with deals for purposes of constrainment, Kresge dropped each and every future intrigue. Painting by Numbers is the detect a picture is separated into shapes, each unique with a number that identifies with a particular shading. You paint in each shape and as time goes on the picture makes as a finished the course toward painting.

The paint by numbers approach is ordinarily derided as being mutilated, uncreative, and condition based. I trust in it's critical in getting over that a pearl is made through various conditions of shading. These shapes regularly don't look extraordinary self-rulingly, nor show up anything "veritable", yet accumulated as a get-together they make the image.

The running with stage in making as a painter is to fathom how to see such shading shapes for yourself, without the guide of a printed graph. Completing a paint by numbers experience supports you fathom how to inspect a subject and watch areas of shading. It strengthens you move a long way from focusing on what the finished subject will look like to looking zones and what shading these should be painted.

"'Painting by numbers' may not be as compromising an energy as one may imagine. Leonardo himself envisioned a kind of it, designating collaborators to paint zones on a work that he had starting late portrayed out and numbered."It's luring to paint with the objective that you complete a piece of the picture at some unpredictable minute, yet that will require a lot of brush washing and waste paint. Or on the other hand possibly paint one shading at some unpredictable minute, from the best regions of this shading to the most diminutive. Working from the most basic inspiration driving the craftsmanship down stays away from unexpectedly bothering wet paint.

By starting with the more unmistakable ones you'll be legitimately overseen using the brush and paint when you get to the humblest territories, which can be fiddly to paint. Painting by Numbers is an amazing activity in brush control. You know unequivocally where the paint should go in that capacity can focus absolutely on getting it down there, and just there.

Having the brush control to paint successfully up to an edge or unequivocal point is an essential cutoff that each beyond any doubt gifted worker needs to make. You'll use it, for example, when painting an establishment behind an article, uniting shading in an eye, or obscuring an embarrassment as a vase, and wherever you need a hard edge on an object.The brush gave is usually somewhat one, to associate with you to paint the humblest shapes in the imaginative creation. It can make painting increasingly noticeable shapes dull along these lines, if you have a continuously noteworthy brush use this too.

Start with either the darkest shading and end with the lightest or the an other way, districts that have a mixed shading (twofold number) till last. The reason I propose doing the shades in get-together from lessening to light (or the an other way) this draws in you locate a little about the tone and chroma of tones.

Keep a holder of clean water for washing your brush (persevering through it's an acrylic Paint by Numbers unit) to hand, in like manner as a surface for cleaning and drying the brush. Try not to dunk the brush into the paint past what many would consider possible up to the ferrule, essentially the tip. Maybe get paint significantly more customarily over have a glob of it tumble off onto made by workmanship.

Be gainful! Endeavor not to spread out the hairs of the brush attempting to paint in a locale considerably more quickly. This will quickly squash the brush and beat the fine tip. Apply fragile strain to wind the tips of the hairs fairly and drift the brush along the surface. Think of it as the paper (or canvas) pulling the paint off the brush as opposed to using the brush to push the paint down.You'll see a few shapes have two numbers in them, not just one. This shows you need to join two tints. Square with degrees should give you a sensible shading, at any rate don't hop your brush from one paint compartment into the running with as you'll sully the tones.

Mix a slight bit of the two tints on a non-penetrable surface (like an old saucer), by then paint the territory. In case you endeavor to mix the two shades on the picture itself (as in the best photo), it's obviously not hard to wrap up with a gigantic measure of paint and going over the edges of the shape. Plus, to wrap up with unevenly mixed paint.Be watchful about cleaning the brush before dunking it into another shading. You would lean toward not to taint a shading. A slight bit of a diminish shading very quickly makes a perilous circumstance of a light shading! In case you do curiously do this, don't mix it in yet use the side of a perfect material or bit of paper towel to endeavor to cleanse it.Paint by number or painting by numbers outlines packs having a board on which light blue or dull lines show zones to paint, and each territory has a number and a relating numbered paint to use. The units were sorted out, made and appeared in 1950 by Max S. Klein, an architect and owner of the Palmer Paint Company of Detroit, Michigan, and Dan Robbins, a business artist.[1][2]

In children's development books, some prompt activities are habitually acquainted with children that are called shading by numbers. Right when Palmer Paint agreeable shaded pencils with clients, they likewise posted pictures online for a "Pastel by Number" assortment.

Paint by Numbers treatment has distinctive central focuses. Also as extended power, it would all around have the ability to upgrade motor aptitudes, the ability to control hand and arm movements and the entire body and help people with slight tremors. It's in like path seemed to extend concentrationIn 2011, the Museum of Modern Art in New York saw four early structures of paint by number by Max Klein for its Department of Architecture and Design, given by Jacquelyn Schiffman.

In May 2011, Dan Robbins and Palmer Paint Products, Inc., together made and passed on to pitch another 60th-celebration paint by number set.[9] This gatherers' set was made in memory of the survivors and the overall public who had lost their lives on September 11, 2001, and depicts the Twin Towers staying in soul over the Manhattan skyline. A portion[clarification needed] of the advantages from this set is being given to the liberal affiliation Voices of SeptemberOrder a pack. Typical size for most painting units is 40X50 Cm or 16X20 In. You will get paints, brushes, canvas, screws, gets and direct card. It is endorsed to create an edge with canvas.Stretch the canvas. Set up your contraptions. Have a bowl of water close by for washing brushes. Match the number from the canvas with the paint and start painting. Starting from the most lifted inspiration driving canvas is recommended.Step by step and number by number when you have completed it, you will be stupified by its immensity. Edge it, hang it, see it and smile :) goodness better trust it, make a point to send us a photo review.In March 1951, clients of all ages slid on Macy's in New York City's Herald Square. Despite how the events were for quite a while completed, fortified customers stuffed in for a gander at the first in-store appearing to be another workmanship experience called paint-by-number. They swarmed the demonstrators and got distinctive sets unequivocally. Anyone present could see that the unit had mass interest. As articulation of the free for all rehearsed the yearly New York City Toy Fair happening a couple of squares away, orders began pouring in from retailers around the country.In March 1951, clients of all ages dove on Macy's in New York City's Herald Square. In spite of how the events were for quite a while completed, tense customers stuffed in for a gander at the first in-store show of another distinctive quality experience called paint-by-number. They swarmed the demonstrators and procured unmistakable sets convincingly. Anyone present could see that the unit had mass interest. As articulation of the free for all developed the yearly New York City Toy Fair happening a couple of squares away, orders began pouring in from retailers around the country.

There was just a lone issue: The customers were fake. Or then again regularly fake. The creators of the wonder would never know certainly. The flood on Macy's was to some degree a legend among the most brilliant presentation stunts ever of or business. Regardless, the thing itself was empowered by an other virtuoso—Leonardo da Vinci.

Right when Dan Robbins, the thirteenth specialist of Detroit-based Palmer Paint Co., read that da Vinci showed his understudies the stray bits of painting by using numbered models on a canvas, he expected the idea may have ceaselessly far reaching interest. So he endeavored to put out something different that would interest certain specialists everything considered.

Unfortunately, no one required his Craft Master paint-by-number packs. Most retailers feared customers wouldn't get the thought or wouldn't need such a helpful workmanship experience. Finally, S.S. Kresge (later Kmart) put everything on hold and put in a basic intrigue. Before long, in view of a packaging calamity, the paints for two units got swapped: Colors made amusement arrangements for "The Fishermen" ended up in boxes for "The Bullfighter." Hobbyists looked blue-caped matadors drawing in green bulls, considering where it had all turned out gravely. Hit with deals for purposes of repression, Kresge dropped each and every future intrigue.

Tense to recoup its thing on racks, Palmer Paint remembered it expected to act snappy. Max Klein, the connection's facilitator, had an idea. Klein and Robbins started by asking the Macy's toy buyer to empower them to show their packs in-store, promising that any unsold stock could be returned worthless out of pocket. Macy's had nothing to lose by watching out for. By then, Klein got two reps

Tense to recuperate its thing on racks, Palmer Paint remembered it expected to act speedy. Max Klein, the connection's facilitator, had an idea. Klein and Robbins started by asking the Macy's toy buyer to empower them to exhibit their packs in-store, promising that any unsold stock could be returned vain out of pocket. Macy's had nothing to lose by watching out for. By then, Klein got two reps

Wow what a find! Nowadays where temporary workers couldn't care less about clients or client service...Charlie exceeds expectations in these zones! We required our worn out, blurred outside of our 3 story home repainted and we needed to thoroughly patch up and switch it up. When I talked with Charlie when he turned out for the offer, it was obvious to me that he really took pride in his work and focused on detail. I didn't need a major organization to carry out the responsibility and be difficult to manage on the grounds that I was only a number to them, I needed the client administration and the pride of craftsmanship. Charlie was all that.

The prep work is an absolute necessity when managing an outside. Charlie and his group were so fastidious and twofold and triple checked zones to ensure it was done appropriately. In the event that Charlie didn't take every necessary step himself, he was brought over to review it before the group moved to an alternate region. His meticulousness in the prep was even seen by the neighbors...that says something!

The nature of the paint work is exceptional! It looks astonishing, we couldn't be more joyful. Along these lines, I needed to make an on the fly call and change the trim shading since it wasn't our vision. I know, an agony in the back, yet Charlie took care of it like an expert. I felt terrible about doing that, yet you just paint your home now and again, so I needed it done effectively. Him and his team were incredible about it and never made me feel regretful. Again...customer administration! Straight lines, even coats, no overspray on my deck or furniture or concrete...quality is in the subtleties! They even completed a couple of additional things around the house since it would make everything look only that vastly improved.

Lets talk crew...everyone was so conscious and well mannered. My property was treated with deference. Various days I needed to go out for appts and left my home open with no front entryway and the carport entryway wide open...these are reliable individuals! I have 3 Great Danes and obviously having restricted utilization of the lawn was a test, yet once more, the group dependably worked with me and helped ensure the doors were shut.

No task is impeccable and any contractual worker will have a couple of hiccups, yet for my better half and I, it is the means by which it is taken care of that has a significant effect. Keep in mind that I have a 3 story home with rockery dividers and a tight neighbor on one side. It's a testing house. Charlie and his group did astonishing. Beyond any doubt a couple of seemingly insignificant details all over, yet few being the catchphrase and Charlie ensured everything was settled or adjusted with me without hesitation....customer administration! I was certifiably not a number I was an individual!

One week from now, they will wrap up with cleaning the windows all around to give the house the last completing touch! Him a call, in the event that you are somebody who really takes pride in your home. Charlie will make a point to hear you and your solicitations for your very own home."

We are rehash clients of Charlie and TruQuality Painting. The organization dependably works admirably and takes incredible pride in their work. We had Charlie clean our rooftop and canals alongside a rooftop treatment. While working he found a wasp next and found a spot that a bat was making a home. EEK! In addition to the fact that he took consideration of these things without extra charge, he additionally called us to report what he had found. I exceedingly suggest the organization and will call upon TruQuality for different occupations around our home.

Our homes are one of our most noteworthy speculations and when we can discover an organization that can deal with it, rapidly, with reasonable rates, high hard working attitudes and incredible client administration then you have discovered gold. Much obliged TruQuality for having a name that portrays your service...TruQuality. The protected Paint Liner Kit is the simple to utilize paint framework that gives you proficient looking outcomes and spares you up to 70% off of your paint time. Accomplish dangerously sharp corners and edges with the Paint Liner Kit. The liner is independent, re-usable and movable to make proficient looking outcomes the width required so your corners are constantly exact and clean without utilizing veiling tape. The Paint Liner Kit roller highlighting a licensed edger enables you to flawlessly associate with the liner. Fill the roller with paint and make the ideal edgeSolvang Antiques Fine Art Gallery is arranged inside our wonderful showroom, displaying unique gems dating from the eighteenth century. The refined craftsmans of the past gave careful consideration to detail and their craftsmanship was remarkable. Solvang Antiques can help you in finding the best quality piece you will appreciate for a lifetime.

Notwithstanding the old fashioned choices, you will appreciate the staggering works by contemporary specialists. Openings turn during the time with exceptional highlights, for example, the Spring and Holiday Art Shows, alongside other themed displays, for example, the Western Art Exhibit.

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allpaintbynumbers-blog · 6 years

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Diy oil painting by numbers digital oil painting

Painting by Numbers is the detect a picture is separated into shapes, each unique with a number that identifies with a particular shading. You paint in each shape and as time goes on the picture makes as a finished the course toward painting.

"'Painting by numbers' may not be as compromising an energy as one may imagine. Leonardo himself envisioned a kind of it, designating collaborators to paint zones on a work that he had starting late portrayed out and numbered."It's luring to paint with the objective allpaintbynumbers that you complete a piece of the picture at some unpredictable minute, yet that will require a lot of brush washing and waste paint. Or on the other hand possibly paint one shading at some unpredictable minute, from the best regions of this shading to the most diminutive. Working from the most basic inspiration driving the craftsmanship down stays away from unexpectedly bothering wet paint.

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In May 2011, Dan Robbins and Palmer Paint Products, Inc., together made and passed on to pitch another 60th-celebration paint by number set.[9] This gatherers' set was made in memory of the survivors and the overall public who had lost their lives on September 11, 2001, and depicts the Twin Towers staying in soul over the Manhattan skyline. A portion[clarification needed] of the advantages from this set is being given to the liberal affiliation Voices of SeptemberOrder a pack. Typical size for most painting units is 40X50 Cm or 16X20 In. You will get paints, brushes, canvas, screws, gets and direct card. It is endorsed to create an edge with canvas.Stretch the canvas. Set up your contraptions. Have a bowl of water close by for washing brushes. Match the number from the canvas with the paint and start painting. Starting from the most lifted inspiration driving canvas is recommended.Step by step and number by number when you have completed it, you will be stupified by its immensity. Edge it, hang it, see it and smile :) goodness better trust it, make a point to send us a photo review.In March 1951, clients of all ages slid on Macy's in New York City's Herald Square. Despite how the events were for quite a while completed, fortified customers stuffed in for a gander at the first in-store appearing to be another workmanship experience called paint-by-number. They swarmed the demonstrators and got distinctive sets unequivocally. Anyone present could see that the unit had mass interest. As articulation of the free for all rehearsed the yearly New York City Toy Fair happening a couple of squares away, orders began pouring in from retailers around the country.In March 1951, clients of all ages dove on Macy's in New York City's Herald Square. In spite of how the events were for quite a while completed, tense customers stuffed in for a gander at the first in-store show of another distinctive quality experience called paint-by-number. They swarmed the demonstrators and procured unmistakable sets convincingly. Anyone present could see that the unit had mass interest. As articulation of the free for all developed the yearly New York City Toy Fair happening a couple of squares away, orders began pouring in from retailers around the country.

Unfortunately, no one required his Craft Master paint-by-number packs. Most retailers feared customers wouldn't get the thought or wouldn't need such a helpful workmanship experience. Finally, S.S. Kresge (later Kmart) put everything on hold and put in a basic intrigue. Before long, in view of a packaging calamity, the paints for two units got swapped: Colors made amusement arrangements for "The Fishermen" ended up in boxes for "The Bullfighter." Hobbyists looked blue-caped matadors drawing in green bulls, considering where it had all turned out gravely. Hit with deals for purposes of repression, Kresge dropped each and every future intrigue.

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