Friday, November 25, 2011
Epistle From Oz - Fr. Peter Kennedy - SMX - St. Mary's In Exile Brisbane
THE ROMAN CATHOLIC CHURCH A POWER FOR GOOD IN THE WORLD?”
2011 Melbourne series Melbourne Town Hall - November 15, 2011
For more than two millennia, the Catholic Church has been the author and repository of some of the highest ideals of humanity. Yet, as humanity is flawed, so is the Church. Few would deny that the Catholic Church has dark chapters in its history. However, do these darker moments unfairly obscure the light – perhaps because so much is expected of an institution that claims to bridge the sacred and secular? Or is the Catholic Church simply the most ancient of wolves in sheep’s clothing?
Father Peter Kennedy
In 2009 the ABC Australian Story produced a feature film entitled “Holier Than Thou” which documented our forced removal from St Mary’s Church in South Brisbane into Exile.
At the end of the filming of our story at Natural Bridge in Qld I went down with the production team for a coffee at the roadside cafĂ© on the road between Nerang in Qld and Murwillumbah in NSW. As we sat down on the veranda a classic Aussie bloke dressed in stubbies and thongs shot a glance in my direction and pointed me out to his wife. Shortly after they got up to leave and he put his hands on his hips, looked down to me and said “Stick it up ‘em mate”. A little surprised, I half stood up and said “what’s your name mate” and he said “it doesn’t matter what my name is mate, just stick it up ‘em”.
Only later did I realise how pivotal that encounter was for me – a light bulb moment, a road to Damascus moment, except it was on the road to Murwillumbah.
The insight that arose was that the ordinary man and woman, the bulk of the church’s membership, the battlers, the mums and dads, who built the churches, hospitals, schools - who were loyal all their lives to the church to its bishops, priests religions and its rules and regulations, its doctrines and its dogmas - frankly - had had enough - they were voiceless in a church ruled by an elite, clerical caste who demanded and expected that the “laity” that derogative term, should just pray, pay and obey. They have had it up to here and they’ve left in their hundreds of thousands, never to come back -“stick it up ‘em mate”!
My argument is simple: – that the leadership of the Roman Catholic Church that arrogantly refuses to allow its membership, its most loyal supporters, a voice in its governance cannot be a force for good in today’s world where increasingly democracy and human rights is the primal cry of people who know the pain and suffering and disempowerment of dictatorships – especially women.
The Roman Catholic Church is such a totalitarian regime e.g. to become a bishop, male of course, a priest has to promise obedience of mind and will, to one man the bishop of Rome, the Pope, in whom all authority resides.
To argue that Jesus established the church in this way and that the church cannot be more democratic, involving the people in its governance, is based on a fiction, a lie – known as apostolic succession,
Stay with me… the bishops claim to be the successors of the twelve apostles with the bishop of Rome claiming to be the successor of the apostle Peter, who was no.1 in Team Jesus. They argue they have that same authority to rule over the church today. Please note it is an authority of power – it ought to be an authority of love.
The Pope as No.1, claims to be – wait for it – the Vicar of Christ- well, I don’t know about you, but from my reading of the gospels I think Jesus would be far more at home with the Vicar of Dibley!
The facts are very different. In the first 3 centuries of Christianity in the various communities of faith that dotted the Mediterranean there was no one form of liturgy, no one form of governance, no one theology. Instead you had communities of equals where both women and men exercised the various gifts given to them by the Spirit. e.g. The gift of leadership, the gift of healing, the gift of prophecy, the gift of preaching etc.
In the 4th Century of the C..E the Pagan Emperor Constantine used the fledging literalist community in Rome to unify his empire. In order to bolster their claims to authority, the church leaders invented the fiction of Apostolic Succession which is still the basis of governance in the Roman Catholic Church today.
As Harvey Cox, Emeritus Professor at Harvard writes in his book “The Future of Faith” – “as the empire became notionally Christian, the church that had been from its beginning fiercely anti – imperial became its fawning imitators blurring the essence of Christianity almost beyond recognition.
The paradox is that when the Roman Empire collapsed, up bobbed a pseudo-religious empire – the Roman Catholic Church. As the philosopher Thomas Hobbes in the 17th Century wrote – “the Church, the papacy became nothing other than the ghost of the deceased Roman Empire, sitting on the grave thereof
Let me now speak from my own experience and that of our community, now in exile in our struggle with such absolute, ruthless and callous authority.
On that fateful day when I saw the Archbishop in 2008 as I was leaving his office, I turned towards him and with some compassion said “You know John, you are going to cop a fair bit of flak from our community”.
He paused and said “This is the Roman Catholic Church. You put me in a corner and I’ll come out fighting”.
People began writing to him respectfully and as intelligent people of faith. He wrote to me saying “if you think that what they’re saying is going to change my mind, let me tell you, it will do the very opposite.” He added “I obey the Pope, you should obey me, and they should obey you”
I tell you this – not to denigrate the Archbishop but to indicate to you the mindset of total obedience of the bishops of the church to absolute Roman Papal authority.
Such an undemocratic church cannot be a force for good in today’s world. Until the Church falls unto the hands of the people it cannot be a significant player in today’s world – a world that demands and expects that the voice of the people be heard. -- Peter Kennedy
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Labels:
Brisbane,
Epistle,
Fr.Peter Kennedy,
Oz,
SMX,
St.Mary's in Exile
Wednesday, November 23, 2011
Rep. Don Young – Alaska - Oil Company Whore - ”You Don’t Own Me”
It is time for some pushback on all the Idiots in Congress, emphasis on the word ALL. Who there can we not live without???
Get a real job Don!
Monday, November 21, 2011
Jacob Bronowski - Absolute knowledge/power vs. Humanity
Advice to the Modern Age: “We have to touch People!”
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Labels:
Absolute knowledge,
Ascent of Man,
humanity,
Jacob Bronowski,
people,
power
Sunday, November 20, 2011
Sunday, November 13, 2011
Joan of Arc – her many faces
(Joans of Arc: Jean Seberg, Ingrid Bergman, Maria Falconetti and, Milla Jovovich.)
Saint Joan – a Real Woman in Real Pants
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Friday, November 11, 2011
Wear a Blue Ribbon - Child Abuse Awareness
Wear a blue ribbon for child abuse awareness.
'Blue Out' Planned At Penn State Game To Focus Attention On Victims
Thursday, November 10, 2011
Men at Work - Vegemite
Ingredients:
Vegemite is made from substances left over from the brewing process. It contains yeast extract, salt, potassium chloride, malt extract, caramel color, nicotinamide, thiamine, hydrochloride, riboflavin, sulfur dioxide and natural flavor.
Monday, October 31, 2011
Sunday, October 16, 2011
Oscar Wilde - 1854/1900 - Esperanza
ESPERANZA
Besieged personalities.
Favored essences.
Light transparent not.
Witness to the light and splendor was she,
Before fame that she bore,
Became shame that she wore,
Mixed with Truth,
Bitter harmony.
Wise man make a vision,
Out of darkness's spite.
Wise man make provision,
Lest heaven pierce gloom's night,
And like some faded Greek tale,
Wear a mask that fits all too easily.
There comes a point when all the art
Is nothing more than anger.
To this less than all too mortal world
A final scene is written.
And Esperanza speaks.
No. Esperanza weeps.
For the sorrow that he brought.
For the morrow that he wrought.
False idols to did he pray?
Gone now. Shattered clay.
(It is said that on the night of his mother's death; Oscar Wilde had a vision of her in his jail cell. I take poetic license with her pen name Speranza and add an E. The Spanish word esperanza translates as expectancy and or hope.)
Article Source: New York 1978
Labels:
1854/1900,
Esperanza,
Oscar Wilde,
Paris grave,
poem,
Speranza
Wednesday, October 12, 2011
The Boundaries of Harrowgate, Philly – Kenzo vs. Gatee
This all got started over the unique Philly and or Kenzo rocket science about where Kensington ends and Harrowgate begins kinda bar talk. I grew up on that end of that northeast Philly turf. The other end of turf questions, rocket science, regarding the boundaries of Fishtown and Kensington – I am not going to touch here.
With the Act of Consolidation of 1854, all districts, townships and boroughs in Philadelphia County were brought under the one authority of Philadelphia city. This was done to improve infrastructure developments and also to establish some law and order outside the then downtown limits of Philadelphia city.
In other words if you killed somebody in center city in a bar fight or street knife fight, you hauled ass over the border into the bad lands, the Northern Liberties, where I think the traditional Fishtown and or Kensington begin on a map, to a place that literally had no police force, where you might be safe for some time depending on how important the victim was – you know how that goes etc.
The so called anti-Catholic riots in 1844 that burned down half of Kensington back then happened according to Wikipedia because the only cop in Kensington was the entire police force with the title of Sheriff. The neighboring Philly city militia was reluctant to respond to that Kensington Sheriff's pleas for help because the city militia got stiffed in the past and was not paid for services rendered previously. Who can ya trust?
As it turns out, Harrowgate was not one of those political entities that were absorbed into the greater Philadelphia in 1854. It is or was just a state of mind I guess. There was a health spa, healing well water in the 1780s and 1790s that was connected to a hotel lasting until the 1840s near the present Harrowgate Park at the Tioga El stop.
The hotel had a reputation of sorts from reading some historic research. Apparently actors and entertainers were not allowed to register at any respectable hotel in old Philly, so prim, proper and Quaker. The actors had to hike it or ride it up to Harrowgate if they wanted a hotel room.
Whatever. Must have been an interesting place at one time in terms of the local party scene.
Two things have inspired me to write this about Harrowgate and its possible boundaries.
One is that I see real estate maps of “Harrowgate” that don’t cut the mustard.
Two, a famous Harrowgate landmark, the Cedar Gove mansion moved to Fairmount Park in the 1920s, is being listed by some writers as having been in Frankford. Frankford is not Harrowgate and vice versa.
While we are on the subject, let me put Cedar Grove on the Harrowgate map since all tour guides and written guides don’t have a clue where it once was located in either Harrowgate or Frankford.
It was on a map just off the western extension of E Sedgley Ave. past the intersection of E. Sedgley Ave. and “K” Street. In present day terms, its original location is now in the middle of a parking lot of what appears on Google satellite to be a warehouse off Eire Avenue.
That at least puts one object in the picture as being in Harrowgate besides Harrowgate Park.
I think the minimum boundaries or the heart of Harrowgate might be the parish boundaries of Saint Joan of Arc Parish at Atlantic St. and Frandford Ave. which has always listed itself as St. Joan of Arc Harrowgate since its founding around 1919.
In fact on old maps, Atlantic Street at Frankford Ave. was the start of a long gone road, “Harrowgate Lane”, that went straight to Cedar Grove on those old maps.
The Parish boundaries are Clockwise:
Aramingo to Venango to Tulip to Allegheny to Emerald to E.Westmoreland to Jasper to Ontario to “J” to Erie/Torresdale to Frankford Creek
Friday, October 7, 2011
Tuesday, July 19, 2011
Miss Diana (of the staircase)
Miss Diana (of the staircase)
Dear Liberty, Liberty, Liberty dear,
It has been many a year
Since last our paths were parted.
In case you forget, I was the spec
That topped a building forgotten.
Madison Garden on the Square,
I was the weathervane fair
Diana.
Do you remember?
-
If not I must object.
Because our acquaintance was set
by what was his name, Henry O. or
Was it O. Henry?
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He was a clever gent
To recognize the bond between
Two metal maidens
As we stood and adorned
Gotham of old.
-
I, by chance, the other day
Met a visitor,
Who had a post card
Of you guarding still
The gates to the Republic.
-
I am sorry I forgot you,
And apparently you me,
Over these many decades.
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It is true they tore down the Garden
And my fate was likely to follow
In similar manner.
The island Manhattan has
Different standards for structures
Than the island on which you dwell.
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My fate, the fate of fame
Was lost on a scrap heap
Till one day a friend did buy
For the value of scrap, me
For thirty and eight dollars.
Deflated was my ego, but still,
Twas better than being
Melted down to solder.
-
I dread to think
What value your copper sheath
Would bring on the scales of barter.
We lofty few must preserve
Our sight from mortal schemes
Not worthy of our station in life.
-
My journey from Gotham of old
Has landed me in a splendid temple
Atop Fairmount Hill
On the Champs Benjamin Franklin
In the city of brotherly love.
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It is a marvelous change
From the cold work of weathervane.
I serve no function
Except to grace a grand hall
And stone staircase.
I have joined your ranks Liberty.
I am art or so they say.
Isn't it great to retire so late.
And find a home so Greek
As this bejeweled museum?
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Every decade or so
There is a spat
Between some Gotham bureaucrat
And the keepers of my present home.
They say my home is Gotham.
Though in truth it is Olympus.
Home is truly where the heart is.
Here Corinthian and Ionic,
Not purely mixed,
Houses my metal frame.
-
Out the window
Across the way
I have found a new friend.
His name is William, William Penn.
He is made of bronze.
No sterner stuff
Are men made of these days.
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He is shorter than you in fact
But higher than you he dwells.
No stone tower here is taller than he
As he stares in disbelief
Toward dear Gotham Town,
On a building French
That you would adore.
He is refined but a little bit dull.
His upper lip is stiff.
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I miss your French ways
Seen through the haze
Of fine ocean mists past.
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We must get together soon,
We metal folk,
For a grand old bash so bold.
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Now I must finish.
The doors are about to admit
The lovers of art.
I know my part,
Same as you.
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Please write. See you
soon?
How is O. Henry?
Love,
Miss Diana. © 1978
There was a conversation started to or listened to by O.Henry in his short story The Lady Higher Up.
The conversation is between two famous statues in 1904 New York City. The two, the statues, of Liberty and Saint-Gaudens Diana converse on their own Olympic plane. This poem is an attempt to rekindle the conversation started by O.Henry and was written some thirty odd years ago.
.
Wednesday, July 13, 2011
North Catholic - Aerial Photo - Philly 1939
Northeast Catholic School for Boys - Phila. 1926-2010 (left center)
Old Harbison dairy - (center)
Great Old Aerial Pic of North Catholic - Frankford Gazette
Saturday, July 2, 2011
Google Patents - Frank's Beverages Philly
I recently ran into this photo looking for nostalgic images of the defunct Frank’s beverage company out of Philly from my youth, centuries ago.
The above was a very distinctive shaped bottle for the 10 or 12 ounce bottles.
Seeing the patent number I wanted to see if I could find it. And then I realized that there was now a Google Patents search page. Things have certainly improved a lot from when I was trying to search out a 1892 patent in a University library in Arizona over a decade ago.
And lo and behold the patent for the old Frank’s bottle.
Frank's - It's The Best
The world is indeed becoming smaller via the Internet.
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Labels:
Beverages,
Frank's,
It's the Best,
Manuel Frank,
orange soda,
Patents,
Phila.,
Philly
Sunday, May 15, 2011
Long live Diversity Jesu! Rasta Jesu – Bob Marley
In honor of the black messiah, Bob Marley 1945-1981, dead thirty years ago this week, of the Rasta movement, from the poorest of the poorest slums in Jamaica, and an assortment of Reggae, Hip Hop, Rap (clean) and underbelly HUMAN energy that will perhaps one day transform this planet to the global Jerusalem!
With no apologies to my White Bread cousins, brothers and sisters in Philly, NY, Chi-Town, LA, Tucson, etc. the world, planet Earth, the Universe etc.
Matisyahu – One Day ( Matisyahiu = Matthew of Maccabees’ revolt fame) – Hasidic Reggae
Honorary Reggae “god” Bob Marley in Hotel California
(click on above screen to enlarge image)
And Hip Art artist Lupe Fiasco - The Show Goes On
Labels:
Bob Marley,
Diversity,
Hasidic,
hip hop,
Jesu,
Lupe Fiasco,
Matisyahu,
rap,
Rasta Jesus,
reggae
Tuesday, April 5, 2011
Wednesday, March 30, 2011
Tuesday, January 5, 2010
Sunday, December 13, 2009
Sunday, November 29, 2009
Colgando En Tus Manos – Hanging in Your Hands

Lyrics to Colgando En Tus Manos :
Quizá no fue coincidencia encontrarme contigo...
Tal vez esto lo hizo el destino...
Quiero dormirme de nuevo en tu pecho...
y después me despierten tus besos.
Tu sexto sentido sueña conmigo,
se que pronto estaremos unidos.
Esa sonrisa traviesa que vive conmigo.
se que pronto estaré en tu camino.
Sabes que estoy colgando en tus manos,
asi que no me dejes caer.
Sabes que estoy colgando en tus manos.
Te envĂo poemas de mi puño y letra.
Te envĂo canciones de 4:40.
Te envĂo las fotos cenando
en Marbella y cuando estuvimos por Venezuela.
Y asĂ me recuerdes y tengas presente,
que mi corazón está colgando en tus manos.
Cuidado, cuidado, que mi corazon estĂ colgando en tus manos.
No perderé la esperanza de hablar contigo.
No me importa que dice el destino.
Quiero tener tu fragrancia conmigo.
Y beberme de ti todo lo prohibido.
Sabes que estoy colgando en tus manos,
asi que no me dejes caer.
Sabes que estoy colgando en tus manos.
Te envĂo poemas de mi puño y letra.
Te envĂo canciones de 4:40.
Te envĂo las fotos cenando
en Marbella y cuando estuvimos por Venezuela.
Y asà asì me recuerdes y tengas presente
que mi corazòn està colgando en tus manos.
Cuidado, cuidado, mucho cuidado, cuidado.
Marta yo te digo me tienes en tus manos.
Cuidado, mucho cuidado.
No importa que diga el destino quedate conmigo
cuidado, mucho cuidado,
Lo quiero todo de ti
Tus labios, tu cariño, lo prohibido.
Te envĂo poemas de mi puño y letra.
Te envĂo canciones de 4:40.
Te envĂo las fotos cenando
en Marbella y cuando estuvimos por Venezuela.
Y asì me recuerdes y tengas presente,
Que mi corazon estĂ colgando en tus manos
cuidado, cuidado...
Que mi corazon estĂ colgando en tus manos
que mi corazon estĂ colgando en tus manos
que mi corazon estò colgando en tus manos
Hanging On Your Hands
Maybe it was not for coincidence
that I met you
sometimes these things are made by destiny
I want to sleep again on your breast
and then I want your kisses to wake me up
your sixth sense dreams of me
I know that we'll be together soon
this sleeping smile that lives here with me
I know that I will be on your way soon
you know I'm hanging on your hands
so don't let me fall
you know I'm hanging on your hands
I send you poems in my own hand
I send you songs 4.40 minutes long
I send you pictures when we were
dining in Marabella and
when we were in Venezuela
so that you can remember me
so that you take account of the fact
that my heart is hanging on your hands
be careful, be careful
I won't lose the hope to be with you
All the forbidden, it's all I want of you
I want to wake up kissing all your tenderness
My baby, my life, I need you.
Monday, November 16, 2009
Boutique Journalism - WTF - Beware!

You have got to be careful about what you think you see on news lists on the Internet. You might see a story as being posted under a Wall Street Journal (WSJ) or the New York Times (NYT) and you might assume that the story will be of high quality. There was a time when the WSJ and the NYT were considered the Rolls Royces of Journalism. But looks can be deceptive these days. Look under the hood.
There are very well known ritzy department stores in New York that have a decades old name for quality and they bank on it for tourists to visit. I was surprised when somebody told that the floor space on the main floor of one of these famous named stores, a lot of the counter spaces and racks of clothes were auctioned off to individual companies to sell and supply perfume and fancy clothes.
The ritzy department store is like the old indoors farmers’ markets and renting stalls to individual retailers. The ritzy store gets upfront rent and or a percent of receipts as recorded off the online cash registers. This new Boutique Retailing is not like the original smallness and intimacy of the traditional Boutique retail outlet. Such is the modern world. - And you get to take your stuff home in a ritzy label shopping bag.
Borrowing from the new Boutique Retailing of some major department stores, so too once fancy ritzy reputation newspapers seem to be renting stalls or their columns to outside retailers or in this case “Journalists”.
One such example I believe is this put down of American workers and their wages.
American Wages Out of Balance
That compared to overseas deregulated labor:
The global wage gap has been narrowing, but recent labor market statistics in the United States suggest the adjustment has not gone far enough.Real comforting to see something like this on the business page of the New York Times.
One indicator is unemployment, which has risen unexpectedly rapidly. The 7.3 million jobs lost are more than triple the 2 million during the 1980-82 recession. Some of that huge increase reflects the sharp decline in gross domestic product, but there could be another factor: the recession shows that many workers are paid more than they’re worth.
And
The big trade deficit is another sign of excessive pay for Americans. One explanation for the attractive prices of imported goods is that American workers are paid too much relative to their foreign peers.
But if one looks closely you can see that the three “reporters” are not employed directly by the NYT but Breakingviews.com – is this a subsidiary of NYT or is the NYT merely renting a stall in its indoor farmer’s market of “Journalism”?
I have been caught in eye-catching headlines marked WSJ – Wall Street Journal on the Internet only to be disappointed by a blog or opinion page – not journalism but opinion on right wing conservative political topics. The punditocracy is everywhere. Facts do not count anymore. It is all paid for opinion.
To add insult to injury to the American Worker on the above mentioned Boutique Journalism article about how “American Wages (are) Out of Balance”, The Pundit Boutique Journalists go on to say that no crimes were committed on Wall Street with the collapse for the Wall Street Ponzi. Some mere mistakes were made by honest but gullible Hedge Fund Manager types.
The case against two former Bear Stearns hedge fund managers, Ralph Cioffi and Matthew Tannin, was the closest anything came to a trial over Wall Street’s role in the financial crisis. Their acquittal suggests that blame is not easily apportioned — and that mistakes, not conspiracies, offer the more likely explanation.Bullshit and propaganda I can understand in a rag like the Wall Street Journal (WSJ) now that is owned by Rupert Murdock. But the New York Times – The New York Times – ??? Geez!
These Boutique journalists – their webpage describe themselves as :
Breakingviews.com is the world's leading source of agenda-setting financial insight. Breakingviews.com has 22 correspondents and columnists based in London, New York, Hong Kong, Paris, Washington and Madrid. Our aim is to become the lingua franca for the global financial community.Journalism in America appears to have been outsourced like every other honest real job that used to be on this soil. Now we only have “opinion-formers” for the MBA types in this case.
"Our real-time subscription service currently reaches around 15,000 financial professionals such as investment bankers, senior corporate executives, hedge fund managers, lawyers and private equity professionals. We reach a broader audience of nearly 4.5m investors and opinion-formers via columns in the following influential newspapers and magazines: The New York Times (USA), The Telegraph (UK), The International Herald Tribune, Le Monde (France), El Pais and Cinco Dias (Spain), Handelsblatt (Germany), La Stampa (Italy), NRC Handelsblad (Netherlands), Nikkei Veritas (Japan). Caijing (China) The National (UAE), The Business Times (Singapore), The Business Standard (India) and L’Agefi (Switzerland)."
This piece about wages in America being too high comes just before Thanksgiving and the need for management to consider Christmas Bonuses and raises in the new year.
With a quotation from the New York Times telling management that wages are too high and Americans are paid too much - this will not justify even a 1% raise for the Bob Crachits of this world. These quotations above from a “NYT Article” in Boardrooms will no doubt ruin many a Tiny Tims’ Christmas.
Have a nice day. Humbug!
Sunday, November 8, 2009
Glory of Old Penn Station NYC

I never saw the late great Pennsylvania Railroad Station in New York City.
I have heard stories from people who used to travel through the old station. It was a memorable experience we are told. I have seen pictures in books. I have heard how the efforts to save the old station failed. This effort to save Penn Station was the stimulus for the creation of a New York City Landmarks Preservation Committee that was instrumental in the saving of Grand Central Terminal from the wrecking ball shortly after the old Penn Station’s demise in 1963.
Perhaps the old Pennsylvania Station is more in myth now than it ever was in reality. I think not. I will describe some aspects shortly.
Old Penn Station was opened in 1910. It was designed by the legendary architectural firm of McKim, Mead and White. General design of the great building was Beaux Arts which was a specialty of these architects. This style evolved around a distinctive Parisian style, which was a mix of many classical forms, and was more popular in the United States than it was in the rest of Europe.
Two existing New York City examples of the Beaux Arts style, can be seen in Grand Central Terminal and the New York Public Library building.
Having arrived in New York City by train some thirty years ago, I arrived in the present Pennsylvania Station that is little more than a subterranean maze of corridors, shops and stairs leading to tracks. All in all the function of that train station is a good thing if you factor in the street level office tower above along with the sports arena Madison Square Garden.
Madison Square Garden (MSG), "The Garden", is the fourth incarnation of a sports arena, the first two of which were located just off Madison Square starting one hundred and thirty years ago from 1879 through 1924 and thus the reason for the name tag.
The east face of the original Penn Station was classical. Its tall Doric columns met Seventh Avenue with a dull thud from all the photos I see at street level. The long roll of columns in a straight line reminds me of many European cities of the nineteenth century with similar grand but dull exterior architecture. The street architecture may be grand but they did not understand classical architecture then from a desired perspective. The lack of steps leading up to Penn Station in front is I think the only negative I have to say here in this posthumous critique.
The front was divided into three portals of entrance. The central main entrance at 32nd Street was flanked on 31st Street and 33rd Street by grand carriage ways running the length of the building. These carriage ways were built as a first class entrance and waiting area for horse drawn Brougham carriages already obsolete in 1910. Servicing the aristocracy and their needs seems to have used a great deal of ground space potential of the building which began preliminary excavations and construction starting in 1902.
Photos I’ve seen of these carriage ways show 1920’s taxi cabs. There is a stone arched walkway above the individual carriage way and leads into the main waiting room from the side street entrances. On a grand scale and in term of today’s architecture, this whole tangent of architectural endeavor is both impressive and space wasteful.
Into the main entrance, the walking pedestrian trying to catch a train has to pass through a long Arcade Hallway. On scale it would look to be fifty feet in height and capable of handling thirty to forty people abreast rushing back and forth at rush hours in the morning and evening. The Arcade is lined on both sides by at least a dozen store fronts to serve the public’s needs the same then as now in terms of any transportation hub. This Arcade hallway is bathed in natural light by semicircular arched windows from above. I begin to think of this hallway as an early form of crowd control leading into the staging and production areas beyond.
At the end of the arcade hallway is the arched entrance leading into the Waiting Room. In all photos I see this as the ticket buying area. I see no benches in the traditional setting of a waiting area being used to sit in the waiting process.
Also as we enter this great, grand and spacious vaulted area of the waiting area we are descending steps going down and enlarging the grand space. This is the opposite of the classical definition of Beaux Arts with steps leading up into all dramatic architectural settings. From all photographs and hand painted postcards this Waiting Room was in its time the most grand and behemoth interior public space in America. Two huge Corinthian columns stand guard on either side of the grand arch and main entrance from Seventh Avenue. Above is a vaulted ceiling and semicircular arched windows bathing the space in natural light.
The scale of these Corinthian columns is I think matching those outside the 30th Street Station building in Philadelphia, the then headquarters of the Pennsylvania Railroad. Thirtieth Street Station is a still standing Art Deco marvel from the grand age of train travel. The austere exterior FDR era Fed Reserve (fascist) style architecture of the time is accented by classical behemoth Corinthian columns. No doubt the architects of 30th Street Station had the original columns of Penn Station’s interior in mind as models and something on the wish list from the board of directors in the building of this new, in 1933, Philly station.
Before further describing this space of the Old Penn Station, let us back up a little and say that elements of one of the Grandest Baths in ancient Rome, the Baths of Caracalla, are the inspiration for this Old Penn Station architectural model. To get a sense of an idealized visual in its day, of the Victorian Era's spin on the past, we can turn to an artistic rendering of the Baths of Caracalla. There is one 1845 watercolor I favor in the Royal Academy of Arts in London collection by C.R. Cockerell which says it all in terms of a visual standard.
This Cockerell Victorian watercolor would seem to be what was available and could be compared with a modern day equivalent of a computer composite rendering of those once Roman baths. The watercolor as the recreated interior of those ancient roman baths served as a probable direct inspiration to the McKim Mead White team in their Penn Stations design project. The 1845 watercolor Baths of Caracalla Rome, shows the interior of the Tepidarium. The Tepidarium was the central grand hall of the baths and hub of all other bathing facilities within that building complex.
Stepping down two grand sets of thirteen stone steps with a brief landing in the middle of the staircase, you find yourself at the bottom of those steps on the main grand floor or waiting room of Old Penn Station. Ahead of you is another grand archway leading into the glass covered vaulted Concourse area with stairs leading down to platforms next to tracks.
Staying here in the Waiting Room you do a 360 degree clockwise turn. The archway ahead is also flanked by giant Corinthian columns with full columns in all four corners of the room. Above is a vaulted ceiling. Three large semicircular sets of windows bath the room in light from that side of the room. Turning right a similar semicircular window is under the arch formed by the vauted ceiling above a doorway entrance and downward set of steps leading from 33rd street. The lower lever of the waiting room has ticket windows on all four sides of the room.
Turning back to the entrance archway from Seventh Avenue there are niches on the walls within the archway, added I think in later years, for the modern equivalent of demi-gods with statues of Railroad Presidents and the like.
Without any specific measurement to present to you I give you my impression of scale from photos alone and hope you have been in the presently standing Grand Central Terminal ten blocks north and three avenues over east on the New York City street grid. I would say that the Old Penn Station is about two thirds of the present floor space of Grand Central is you define floor space as immediately below the blue constellation covered vault above. Height of the Old Penn would appear to be one third higher than Grand Central’s main hall.
The final turn in the old “Tepidarium” Penn waiting room sees another side entrance on 31st street and round back to the entrance to the Concourse of legendary fame.
I believe there are snippets of the old Penn Station Concourse in movies. It was often imitated and reconstructed on movie lot sound stages with the Penn Concourse as the departing and reunion point of many loves during WWII. There is a short video on the Internet by filmmaker Stephen Kellam showing the Concourse in computer animation and as part of that previously mentioned Penn Station as the center of many loves and heart breaks. I invite you to search it out and no doubt there are countless other photos and reproductions out there.
From the main waiting room we exit through small scale glass doors into the Concourse which is where there is seating for people waiting for trains. I suspect that the ticket buying waiting area was heated in winter. Off camera from the main waiting room are two smaller designated waiting rooms, one specifically for Women and one for Men. These two rooms are entered through doorways opposite each other within the archway leading to the track platforms. Waiting there in the warmth was I suspect better than waiting in the what I suspect was an unheated area in winter and depending on body heat only to warm you in the Concourse beyond.
Through the glass doors and into the Concourse is like Alice slipping through the looking glass. In a sense and from the street on Seventh Avenue and the main entrance, we have come through the twentieth century Arcade or shopping mall into a magnificent interpretation of a third century Roman bath’s main hall. From here we are transported to a glory of modern man, an amalgam of the industrial age reaching its zenith into the age of mass produced steel and glass.
From the direct or muted tones of natural light in the Waiting Room we reach into the total light of a vaulted cast iron and steel framework with a roof totally sheathed in glass panels. Standing at the entrance way into the Concourse one sees the grand clock and its roman numerals and we get to see, imagine, the Crystal Palace of 1851 and Kew Gardens' conservatory combined in a magnificent space to accomodate and perfectly accent the power of the age of the steam train engine.
With my limited travel experience, I can only say that in terms of the nineteeth century’s grand tribute to the train travel, Victoria Station and Gard du Nord are good tries but the Old Penn Station got it right in many categories of magnificent effort and effect on the emotional and sensual level of the every day traveler, the commuter. Compared to Old Penn’s Concourse, Victoria and Gard Du Nord's train areas are merely train sheds with some glass panels in the train shed roof.
In, under, this lighted space of the Penn Concourse are people coming and going in all directions and through four entrances. There are people waiting on benches. There are newspaper stands and snack stands. There are the stair entrance ways to several tracks below. In an imitation of modern energy flows, the Concourse area is Grand Central, Broadway, and JFK airport all in one ball of architectural wax.
The Old Penn Station was truly the Versailles of Train Stations with its interior spaces. It’s loss made, makes, many of us keenly aware what was ultimately lost. The so called space demands of New York City was a poor excuse for tearing down this Wonder of the Modern World.
These days, a MSG could be built as a Sports Arena on the Hudson River next to the convention center. There is such a thing as too dense a population of people even by Manhattan standards. The calming effect of an oasis of grand public space in the middle of all the chaotic energy of everyday NYC would be greatly welcome these days.
I don’t know if the Waiting Room of the old Penn Station will ever be recreated. I can however see the grand Concourse area being resurrected in some great airport, spaceport or other transportation hub of the future. The Old Penn Station is a classical standard of the gilded age and worthy of a classic revival in the future.
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Philadelphia 30th Street Station - 1933/Present - Interior and Exterior
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Monday, October 26, 2009
Melbournian Candidate - Roger Ailes

Almost as an insider’s media industry joke, the idea made the rounds last week of Roger Ailes, head of Fox News of the Murdock Media Noise Empire, was considering a run for the presidency in 2012.
If he was younger, I would say that he or anybody the Fox Propaganda Machine would endorse could go the distance in the American Political Process. Ailes could carry or make a decent showing in the Primaries. Huckabee would have to be sabotaged (a minor task) if Ailes wanted Iowa.
This is all speculation, a joke, comic relief, after Ailes and Obama media right hand David Axelrod could not discuss gentlemanly rules of engagement over tea at the White House.
Ailes cut his teeth or more accurately make his name and media reputation in selling a recycled bag of political shit aka Richard Nixon to the American People and making them like it in 1968. Of course it was the George Wallace campaign and the split in the Democratic party that year that gave the Republicans a squeaker victory in 1968.
One has to wonder at the ego of politicians and media moguls born in Melbourne and how games can be won and profits realized on the national and global stage.
The power of the media is immense. Like a Derivatives Compiler or Manager of a Hedge Fund, the novelty of the new Fox journalism has worn off in recent hard economic times. These are times for retooling the American Mission Statement for itself and to the world. Fox fades away or resets the definition of normal for decades to come.
Journalism in all its forms are in the marketplace. The more traditional hardcopy newspaper may be on the wane but it is not dead. There always is a market for a quality product. There also is a market for hucksters and their street wares.
The media as the background sound of the demos – the mob – has been there since before the Republic. The sounding board of ideas and egos, private and public are all welcome.
Roger Ailes will make an excellent stalking horse for Rupert’s real candidate, whoever he or SHE is in 2012.
(P.S. Just substitute the word Iraq or Afghanistan in every slot using the word “Vietnam” below and get a taste of the potential media tsunami coming our way in 2012, that could be recycled out of old political propaganda trash courtesy of classic Ailes and Associates archives.)
Labels:
2012,
Fox News,
Media,
Melburnian,
Murdock,
Propaganda,
Roger Ailes
Saturday, October 24, 2009
The New WSJ - Where are the Tits?

I used to remark some years ago that the only thing that keeps The New York Time from being a truly great newspaper was that it lacked a “funnies” comic strip page. Yes, rather droll humor.
I used to remark that I had no need for the New York Post anymore – my canary died.
Going back at least twenty five years ago I was walking from the Village, down Broadway on my way to the Ferry. I was a walker back then. It was a Sunday afternoon. I ran into a tourist. He was middle aged and as it turned out Korean. From his limited but well mannered English he was asking me “Where do I find the Wall Street Journal building?” I kind of scratched my head. This was before they had a whole building at the World Financial Center across from the old World Trade Center.
He may have had an address or I got the address out of the copy of the WSJ he was carrying with him. It was late and I wanted to get home. But the dignity of this Economics professor from South Korea made me want to be a perfect temporary surrogate American host to this tourist. We talked as we walked and as I guided him to the address in downtown Manhattan. This man was in awe of the “greatest newspaper in the world”. Wow. He had come to see and pay homage to something he had worshipped from afar.
I don’t know if we did find the right place. The WSJ had no iconic building in those days. What we landed at was an entrance to the building next to the New York Stock Exchange. Perhaps they rented some floors in the building. The professor seemed a bit disappointed and I was too in that I could not satisfy this tourist’s request to touch the “greatest newspaper in the world”.
“The greatest newspaper in the world” is still an elusive title for any newspaper these days. When I see articles these days in the Internet, I see WSJ or Wall Street Journal next to the article listed. If I click onto the article I am not likely to get any sound economic advice or spin on world economic business, I am more likely to get the Opinion Page - or a featured blog article - and having little or nothing to do with the traditional business of Wall Street.
I have had to restrain myself lately, train my eye to stop seeing WSJ as a mark of quality based on a century of Journalistic Excellance that permeated even to South Korea in its day.
I ran into a FOX defending article today on the Opinion Page at the "WSJ" internet site. It was interlinked with a blog attacking Obama’s strategy against Fox News. I don’t know who the blogger really is or how he gets paid. What does petty politics have to do with economics or the stock market in any pure old fashioned “classic WSJ” sense of things?
I knew that when Murdock bought the Wall Street Journal that it would lose its shine.
Rupert, the one thing these days missing in the Wall Street Journal – WSJ – that keeps it from being a truly great newspaper. It has no Page Three. There are no tits?
Rupert? Where are the tits?
Please raise the standards for "the Journal" back up - perhaps even up to those standards of your flagship newspaper - The Sun.
Labels:
"classic WSJ",
New WSJ,
Rupert Murdock,
The Sun,
Wall Street Journal,
WSJ
Tuesday, July 28, 2009
Unicorn - Unbound

It’s true!
The Unicorn is bound.
Magic and Mystic
Chained to a tree
Waiting.
Doubting for a moment
(or is it a thousand years?)
Before his heart is stirred again –
Awakened by a light
The sceptered spectrum
And flight.
1-17-80
Labels:
bound,
flight,
heart,
magic,
mystic,
sceptered spectrum,
Unicorn,
Unicorn tapestry
Saturday, June 27, 2009
Wednesday, June 24, 2009
The GOP - the Party of "family values"

Oh how the mighty have fallen!
When you put yourself on the pedestal of Holier Than Thou - the only place to go is down.
Labels:
Adultery,
Family Values,
GOP,
Holier Than Thou,
No Values,
Republicans
Monday, June 8, 2009
Tuesday, May 12, 2009
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