Old Age and Seminal Retention

I read with interest the following item from the BBC News of 15th March (2007):


"A man thought to be the oldest living person in the world is celebrating his 116th birthday. Hryhoriy Nestor was born in what is now Ukraine....It was only at the age of 100 that he retired from working as a farm labourer. He is now looked after by a relative. Hryhoriy, who still has a full head of hair, says that being single has kept him feeling young. He recommends a diet of milk, cheese and potatoes as well as the occasional shot of vodka."

I don't wish to detract from Mr Nestor's incredible feat of longevity but, incredible as it might sound, if Hindu sources are correct he is but a mere infant compared to the likes of the Devraha Baba.

The Devraha Baba shortly before his 1989 demise at the age of 250.

Nobody knew the Devraha Baba's exact age - there was no birth certificate. However, his devotees claim that he died in 1989 at the grand old age of 250 (although it was rumoured that the Baba claimed to be over 700 years old!). The first president of India Dr.Rajendra Prashad explained at the age of 73 how as a child his father had taken him to see Baba, known as the "Ageless Yogi" who was already a very old man and that his father had known baba for many years before that. Thus the former president, a reliable witness I think, claims that from his own experience he can attest to the fact that Devraha Baba was more than 150 years of age. So I wonder what can account for the Devraha Baba's amazing longevity? Mr Nestor, of course, mentions among other things that lifelong bachelorhood is an important factor. As a Hindu ascetic, the Devraha Baba had also lived a life of sexual abstinence. This line of though brought to mind another case I came across a month ago, this time from China:

25th February 2007 - "HONG KONG (Reuters) - A 107-year-old Hong Kong villager, who still enjoys an occasional smoke, has attributed his longevity in part to decades of sexual abstinence, a newspaper said on Sunday. "I don't know why I have lived this long," Chan Chi -- one of Hong Kong's oldest people -- was quoted as saying in the South China Morning Post during an annual feast for the city's elders.
"Maybe it has to do with the fact that I have lived a sex-less life for many years -- since I was 30," said Chan, a widower whose youthful bride perished during the Japanese invasion in World War Two."

There does seem to be a link then, at least anecdotally, between longevity and celibacy or, put another way, between sex and death. This could mean that an existence free of the stresses and strains of family life contributes to ripe old age. Or perhaps, as the Tantric traditions in Hinduism teach, longevity has something to do with the physiology of celibacy itself. In this system the seed is viewed as somehow embodying the 'ojas' or life energy and so the retention of this vital fluid is said to be the key to a long and healthy life, whereas its loss would seem to entail the opposite. Food for thought.

Bone Idle

The Cremation of Baron De Palm

The first legal 'modern' cremation in the United States of America, occuring on 6th December 1876, was that of a rather colourful character called Baron de Palm. He had originally emigrated from Bavaria and, from what I can gather, was an enthusiastic member of the Theosophical Society. This movement espoused a number of 'exotic' ideas and practices, especially those which found their provenance in eastern religions, including cremation. At the time of the Baron's death the cremation movement was burgeoning in the USA, just as it was here in Britain. In "Purified By Fire: A History of Cremation in America" 2001, Stephen Prothero gives a detailed analysis of the many social, scientific and religious arguments which were put forward concerning the disposal of the dead. It seems that the cremation debate was high on the agenda for many Americans of the "gilded age" and that the cremationists sought a practical demonstration of cremation, in order for there to be an informed judgement concerning its merits. This was to arrive in the form of the dessicated corpse of Baron De Palm. Believing in the value of cremation in improving public health and hygiene, a certain philanthropist named Dr Francis Julius Lemoyne designed and built a crematorium on his own land in Washington Pennsylvania and had been looking for a suitable opportunity to test it. Baron De Palm's body had been mummified over a year before and it was agreed by the custodians of his corpse in the Theosophical Society that it should undergo a modern cremation in America at some future point. Prothero describes the eventual scene of its incineration, which he has reconstructed from historical records. It was, by all accounts, a major news event, covered in all the major American newspapers. Crowds of reporters and curious onlookers, vying to observe the macabre spectacle which was unfolding before them, created what can only be described as a carnival atmosphere on that bleak winter's morning.

Dr Lemoyne and his retort

Prothero vividly describes the ensuing scene in "Purified By Fire" ps33-34:

"After Mr. Wolfe, the fireman who had started feeding the furnace with coke at two o'clock in the morning, declared the machinery ready, the guests took one last look at the body. Someone pulled the sheet down a bit, exposing a face with a horribly pained countenance. After this final, grotesque viewing, Olcott, LeMoyne, and two other men appointed to usher the body into the furnace took off their hats, as if to signal that whatever reverence might be mustered should be expended forthwith. Members of the impromptu congregation dutifully removed their bowlers. Then the body was lifted and "solemnly borne" across the threshold of the two-room crematory into the furnace room, and cremation's rite of passage to America was underway. Olcott, in his capacity as high priest, soaked the white sheet covering the corpse with water saturated in alum in an effort to prevent both the body's immediate blazing and any further public display of the baron's nakedness. In a nod to the Asian origins of cremation and the Theosophist's love of Mother India, someone placed a simple clay urn--"the present of a friend in the East"--atop the furnace. Olcott then sprinkled the body with spices, including cassia, cinnamon, cloves, frankincense, and myrrh. According to one confused reporter, the Theosophist was "following the Egyptian ceremonials, with a touch of the Indian, Greek and Roman customs." But he was also bequeathing to the occasion a vaguely Christian air--playing the Wise Man bringing spices from the East. Finally, Olcott placed on the corpse a collection of roses, smilax, primroses, and palms, as well as evergreens as a symbol, he announced, of the immortality of the soul. Recalling perhaps the Christian tradition of burying lay people with their heads to the west so they could look to the east for the Second Coming, Olcott and LeMoyne debated whether it was more auspicious to place the body into the furnace head-first or feet-first. The fireman and the crematory's builder then joined the procession, forming a coterie of six pallbearers, as in a traditional burial. At approximately 8:30 A.M. they slid the baron's body into the retort head-first.
There was a momentary sizzle and a bit of smoke. But soon the door was cemented shut and the furnace made airtight. The evergreens and the hair around the head caught on fire, and "the flames formed," according to the Times reporter, "a crown of glory for the dead man." At first witnesses were repelled by the smell of burning flesh, but soon the sweeter aromas of flowers and spices banished foul odors from the room. Witnesses who peered through a peephole in the side of the furnace noted that the flowers were almost miraculously reduced to ash without losing their "individual forms." About an hour into the proceedings a rose-colored mist enveloped the body. Later the mist turned to gold. Meanwhile, the corpse became red-hot and then transparent and luminous. All these effects lent to the retort "the appearance of a radient [sic] solar disk of a very warm. . . color." After some time yet another intimation of immortality pressed itself on the witnesses: "the palm boughs. . . stood up as naturally as though they were living portions of a tree." Then the left hand of the baron rose up and three of his fingers pointed skyward. The scientists present later attributed this incident to involuntary muscular contractions, but others saw in it something of a spiritual phenomenon. The main event concluded officially at 11:12 A.M., when Dr. Folsom, secretary of the Massachusetts Board of Health, formally pronounced the incineration complete. All that remained of the body had fallen lifelessly to the bottom of the retort, but the ashes of a few sprigs of evergreen remained, seemingly suspended in air above the iron cradle. Cremationists interpreted this too as a propitious sign."

Now that is what I call a story. I did say in a recent posting that I'd try to steer away from thanatological matters but then Prothero's book is an excellent one and this is a tale which, in my view, is of some historical significance and interest.

Bone Idle

Meat-Loving Calf Eats Chickens

A curious little story - I particularly like the reincarnated tiger theory for the calf's misdeeds!

When dozens of chickens went missing from a remote West Bengal village, everyone blamed the neighbourhood dogs.

But Ajit Ghosh, the owner of the missing chickens, eventually solved the problem when he found his cow – a sacred animal for the Hindu family – gobbling up several of them at night.

“We were shocked to see our calf eating chickens alive,” Ghosh told Reuters by phone from Chandpur village.

The family decided to stand guard at night on Monday at the cow shed which also served as a hen coop, after 48 chickens went missing in a month.

“instead of the dogs, we watched in horror as the calf, whom we had fondly named Lal, sneak up to the coop and grab the little ones with the precision of a jungle cat.” Gour Ghosh, his brother, said.

Local television pictures showed the cow grabbing and eating a chicken in seconds and a vet confirmed the case.

“We think lack of vital minerals in the body is causing this behaviour. We have taken a look and have asked doctors to look into the case immediately,” Mihir Satpathy, a district veterinary officer, said by phone.

“This strange behaviour is possible in some exceptional cases.” Satpathy said.

Hundreds of villagers flocked to Chandpur on Wednesday to catch a glimpse of Lal, enjoying his bundle of green grass for a change.

“The local vets said Lal was probably suffering from a disease but others said Lal was probably a tiger in his previous birth.” Ajit added.

(Reuters - Kolkata, India 7th March)

Bone Idle

The True Cost Of Traditional Burial

There has been something of a hiatus of late as far as my posting on The Bone Idol is concerned. Time has certainly been a limiting factor recently. However, there has been no shortage of ideas and there are plenty of topics which warrant some expatiation. It is a cliche I know, nevertheless the spirit is willing but the flesh is week. I am also conscious that, to a casual observer, The Bone Idol might appear a little preoccupied with sepulchral matters. This was not necessarily how I saw it developing when I started out and I would like to try to steer it away from them somewhat, but I’ll make no promises. Indeed, since I was thinking about the environmental impact of the funeral industry a week or so ago and was considering greener alternatives to traditional burials and cremations, I came across the following statistics which were compiled by a certain Mary Woodsen who is, apparently, the vice president of the Pre-Posthumous Society of Ithaca, New York and a science writer at Cornell University.

According to Woodsen, every year American corpses are prepared for the grave using 827,060 gallons of embalming fluid, which includes formaldehyde. This is enough to fill nearly four Olympic-sized swimming pools! Some 180,544,000 pounds of steel and 5,400,000 pounds of cooper and bronze are incorporated in their coffins. As far as the wood is concerned, 30 million board feet of hardwoods, including tropical woods are either buried or cremated and a staggering 3,272,000,000 pounds of reinforced concrete and 28,000,000 pounds of steel go into their vaults.

These statistics are mind-boggling in their enormity – they refer to materials which are used by the funeral industry during just one year and in the USA alone! I cannot imagine what these statistics would be if they were for the whole world.

Bone Idle

Beauty Is In The Eye Of The Beholder

There is a Sufi tale concerning the Prophet Isa (Jesus) which I rather like. It runs something like this:

Jesus and his disciples were travelling through a town in Palestine when they came upon a dead and decaying dog lying by the roadside. The disciples all began to exclaim, `What an ugly site! What a stench!' and so on. But all Jesus said was, `Ah but pearls cannot equal the whiteness of its teeth.'

Bone Idle

Sky Burial - The Greenest Solution

After I had written yesterday's post, it occured to me that even promession must entail some environmental damage. The processes involved in achieving those incredibly low temperatures must generate a certain amount of carbon. So I started to cogitate - what would be the ideal method for us to adopt, from a green point of view? Then it occured to me - Sky Burials! Just like the ancient Zoroastrians of Persia and of course, the Tibetans.

A Sky Burial site in Tibet - note the hammer for pulverising the bones.

In the highlands of Tibet wood is a precious commodity, so much so that it could not be wasted on fuelling pyres. For much of the year the ground is frozen solid making gravedigging practically impossible, so the Tibetan solution is to take the corpse to a high and desolate place, eviscerate it, pulverise the bones and then wait for an hour or two until the vultures have completely devoured everything. This might sound a little gruesome but it has the advantage of being entirely carbon-neutral and, in line with Tibetan Buddhist principles of generosity and compassion, it provides sustenance to the birds. The question is whether it would work here or not. True, we don't have a native population of vultures here but there might well be other species who could do the needful almost as effectively. And as for the siting of these sky cemeteries, as long as they are sufficiently far from centres of population they should not cause too much offence. Well anyway, food for thought I suppose (if not for the pigeons).

Bone Idle

The Green Funeral

A few days ago I visited an area of a local cemetery which has been developed for `woodland' burials. Having read about these I wanted to see this facility for myself. The advantage of woodland burial is that, unlike the majority of traditional inhumations, no embalming fluids which can leech into the soil are used, the coffin is made of bio-degradable materials and so everything decomposes much more rapidly and cleanly. I must confess though that I was rather disappointed with what I saw. I was expecting a quiet corner of a wood, replete with wild flowers, sweet birdsong and so forth. In reality I found an exposed and rather muddy field with a handful of newly planted trees, adjacent to the main cemetery, with very little to distinguish it other than the floral tributes which had been scattered here and there by the wind. Woodland burials are a step in the right direction, I'll grant you that, but I can't really see them catching on and making that much of a difference to the ecological problems we all face. Burial has probably had its day, at least in the modern west, anyway. In the latter part of the nineteenth century, the pioneering cremationists saw cremation as a much more sanitary and ecologically viable alternative to earth burial and they were right to do so. Nevertheless, the process of cremation itself involves the emission of a multitude of noxious substances into our environment. It is a little known fact, for example, that 10% of the mercury in the atmosphere can be traced to the combustion of dental fillings during the process of cremation. Since environmental concerns should be high on everyone's agenda, I think it is time to reevaluate how we dispose of the dead, just as the cremationists did over a hundred years ago. We could start by reflecting on the sentiments expressed in the Cremation Society of England's founding declaration (1874). This acknowledges that cremation was the best available solution at the time but could certainly be improved upon in the future:

"We disapprove of the present custom of burying the dead, and desire to substitute some mode which shall rapidly resolve the body into its component elements by a process which cannot offend the living, and shall render the remains absolutely innocuous. Until some better method is devised, we desire to adopt that usually known as cremation."

So, has some better method been devised? Is it now time for a widescale reassessment of how we dispose of our dead? I believe that the answer to both of these questions is a definite yes. The Swedes have developed a method which is termed `Promession' and it seems to me to offer a brilliant solution to the environmental damage inherent in present methods of disposal. Basically promession involves freezing the corpse to -18 degrees celsius and then dipping it in a tank of liquid nitrogen at -196 degrees celsius.

The corpse then becomes very brittle, so much so that that if it is vibrated it collapses into a powder. At this point, mercury and other metals are separated using an induced magnetic field and what remains is approximately 27 kilograms of powder which can be buried and will become thoroughly composted, adding nutriments to the soil, in about six months time. This is clean, eco-friendly technology which, it seems to me, we really ought to adopt and the sooner we do so the better. It would certainly be of great benefit to the environment if the funeral industry put some energy into developing this method of disposal, advocating it and making it widely available. It is my hope that the prometorium will be to the twenty first century what the crematorium was to the twentieth.

Bone Idle

I find this reassuring

"In an age in which the media broadcast countless pieces of foolishness, the educated man is defined not by what he knows, but by what he doesn't know."

(Nicolas Gomez Davila)

Bone Idle

There doesn't seem to be much going on but...

Bone Idle

Another Nail in the Anglican Coffin?

Catholics set to pass Anglicans as leading UK church

`Roman Catholicism is set to become the dominant religion in Britain for the first time since the Reformation because of massive migration from Catholic countries across the world.
Catholic parishes will swell by hundreds of thousands over the next few years after managing years of decline, according to a new report, as both legal and illegal migrants enter the country..... The growth of Catholicism in Britain comes as the established Church of England and the Anglican provinces in Scotland, Wales and Ireland face continuing, if slow, decline.' Or so I read in today's Times newspaper.

Before I pass comment on this news, I should clarify that I am not and never have been a member of the Church of England. I have, on occasion, attended funerals in Anglican churches but this is about the limit of my involvement with it. I was raised a Roman Catholic, went regularly to mass and studied Theology in a University department which was run by Jesuits. I may not see eye to eye with all aspects of Catholic teaching now, nevertheless I cannot deny that I have strong emotional ties to the Catholic Church and many of my most deeply ingrained views are, without doubt, the product of my upbringing. It is my natural spiritual home. Having said that, I do find today's news somewhat unsettling. Although I owe no particular allegance to Anglicanism, its apparent and ongoing demise is a source of sadness to me. The good old CofE has always represented something quintessentially British (English?). To my mind, it epitomises qualities such as fair play, moderation (especially in not appearing to be too religious), gentlemanlike conduct, trying to be all things to all men and, dare I say, a delightful fogginess on matters of Theology. Anglicanism seems to be one of those timeless British institutions that we happily take for granted but don't realise quite how much it meant to us until it has gone. And if it does eventually implode, it will take with it an irreplacable aspect of British self-definition and that, in my opinion, would be a great tragedy.

This article in the Times put me in mind of a book I read recently - a rather sobering book entitled "Last Rites: The End of the Church of England" (2006) by Michael Hampson, a somewhat jaded ex-clergyman. He makes the case quite convincingly that the Church of England, riven as it is by the seemingly intractible in-fighting between evangelicals and liberals, severely wounded by the fall-out over the ordination of women and deeply divided on the issue of homosexual clergy, has become increasingly marginalised and irrelevant to mainstream contemporary British society and is, because of these factors, in a state of irreversible and terminal decline. Overall, Hampson posits the view that the CofE has had its day and must reform itself and`downsize' quite considerably if it is to survive at all. It will certainly cease to be the Church of the Nation so perhaps today's news should come as no surprise. It is simply another nail in the Anglican coffin, confirming the inevitable.

The more I mull over this, the more its implications seem to multiply (with regard to our constitution, culture and so on). This is an important topic which I shall, no doubt, return to and expatiate upon in the future.

Bone Idle

The Chemistry of Death

One has to admire the sang-froid of the learned physician and anatomist Dr William Evans (1920-1964). I came across the following passage in his book "The Chemistry of Death" (1963) and was struck by how he gives this highly detailed description of a cremation he has witnessed in such a detached and matter of fact way. Be warned, this is not for the faint-hearted:

`The coffin is introduced into the furnace where it rapidly catches fire, bulges and warps, and the coffin sides may collapse and fall, exposing the remains to the direct effect of the flames. The skin and hair at once scorch, char and burn ... The muscles slowly contract, and there may be a steady spreading of the thighs with gradually developing flexion of the limbs ... Occasionally there is a swelling of the abdomen before the skin and abdominal muscles char and split; the swelling is due to the formation of steam and the expansion of gases in the abdominal contents. Destruction of the soft tissues gradually exposes parts of the skeleton. The skull is soon devoid of covering, then the bones of the limbs appear, commencing at the extremities of the limbs where they are relatively poorly covered by muscle or fat, and the ribs also become exposed. The small bones of the fingers, wrists and ankles remain united by their ligaments for a surprising length of time, maintaining their anatomical relationships even though the hands and feet may fall away from the adjacent long bones. The abdominal contents burn fairly slowly, and the lungs more slowly still ... The brain is specially resistant to complete combustion ... Eventually the spine becomes visible as the viscera disappear, the bones glow whitely in the flames and the skeleton falls apart.'

Bone Idle

The Earl of Chesterfield on Women

Philip Dormer Stanhope, 4th Earl of Chesterfield (1694-1773), British Statesman, man of letters. The following quote is taken from a letter to his son, 5th September 1748:

`Women are only children of a larger growth.... A man of sense only trifles with them, plays with them, humours and flatters them, as he does with a sprightly and forward child; but he neither consults them about, nor trusts them with, serious matters.'

Bone Idle

The Cremation of Iesu Grist

Dr William Price

Dr William Price (1800-1893) of Pontypridd, South Wales was a remarkable character. Price was a medical practitioner and an antiestablishment freethinker who, in his day, was considered at best eccentric and at worst a raving lunatic. With the benefit of hindsight, Price was probably a visionary and many of his `eccentricities' would not seem so out of place nowadays. He declared himself to be an Archdruid and dressed accordingly. Price championed such causes as vegetarianism and naturism. He denounced such things as the wearing of socks, marriage and the Christian religion and he outraged the good people of the South Wales valleys by naming his (illegitimate) child, fathered in his eighties, Iesu Grist, which is Welsh for Jesus Christ. Price also railed against the practice of earth burial and in 1884 he performed an act that caused him to be vilified locally and resulted in his arrest and trial. The five month old Iesu Grist died and Price cremated the body in what many saw as a provocative act of blasphemous paganism.
Price believed burial to be the antithesis of all that was aesthetic, hygienic, and scientific, resulting in "wastage of land, pollution and danger to the living" and so...

`Three days after death he took the tiny body of Iesu Grist...wrapped in white linen to the top of a nearby hill [Caerlan fields, Llantrisant]. He gently placed it in a barrel of paraffin oil [a case report states `ten gallons of petrolium'] and set it alight. People returning from chapel were astonished to see the fire and thick black smoke and rushed to the spot. The partially consumed body was snatched from the burning pile and the crowd threatened to mob Price. The arrival of the police prevented this, and Price was placed under arrest. Conducting his own defence at Cardiff Assizes, William Price was acquitted of the charges against him. Cremation was deemed lawful, provided that it did not constitute a public nuisance. The proceedings attracted international interest. Price's next scheme was to build a public crematorium locally, but he was unable to finance this. He demanded that he be given the body of his own child and, determined and fearless, he succeeded in carrying out his cremation unmolested three months later, when he burned the body in a half ton of coal.'

This rather macabre tale was of immense historical importance however. What Price did horrified devout non-conformist Wales but the cremation of Iesu Grist was something of a landmark in that it clarified the legality of cremation in Britain thus paving the way for the cremation act of 1902 and the popularisation of this practice thereafter.

When Price himself died (at the ripe old age of ninety-three), in accordance with his instructions, a makeshift crematorium was filled with two tons of good quality Welsh anthracite. His mortal remains were placed in a cast-iron coffin which baked in the intense heat for several hours. Apparently some 20,000 curious onlookers, most of whom were opposed to the practice of cremation, gathered to witness this odd spectacle.

Bone Idle

Ullr's Revenge

After all I said yesterday we had a (partial) snowday today. We were told to go home at 11.30am because of heavy snowfall. I spent the next three hours stuck in gridlocked traffic, becoming increasingly desperate to answer a call of nature - and this is a journey of about one mile! I eventually abandoned the drive and walked the next mile home, in a blizzard. So I publically and humbly apologise to Ullr for my ill-conceived remarks of yesterday.




Bone Idle

No snowday here

Ullr - the Norse god of snow

The forecasters promised us a night of heavy snow last night - the heaviest snowfall for a decade they said. `Brilliant' I thought. This usually means a day off work and the chance to take my children out and throw snowballs at them. As a precaution, I petitioned Ullr the Norse snow god to send an abundance of the cool white stuff. We only tend to get a snowday about once a year (if we are lucky) in this neck of the woods. Imagine my disappointment when I woke up and looked out the window - nothing, just rain (incidentally, Swansea is officially the wettest place in Britain) while it seems that just about everywhere else in England and Wales is covered with a blanket of Ullr's discharge. This leads me to conclude that either:

a) Ullr does not exist or

b) Ullr exists but is indifferent to my supplications.

Ah well, maybe next winter!

Bone Idle

Auto Castration

I am aware that some of my recent postings have, perhaps, focussed a little too narrowly on certain strange and gruesome incidents in Indian religions. In the interests of balance and fairness however, I might opine that such tales of decapitation (which was always very much a minority pastime anyway) and the like are no more bizarre and awful than the phenomenon of self-castration in the Christian world. It is probably because of its identification of sex with sin that Christianity has thrown up its own fair share of those who were drawn to this most extreme of measures, in order to avoid any form of concupiscence whatsoever. Historically, perhaps the most highly organised and widespread example of this was the heretical Russian Orthodox sect known as the Skoptsy ("the self-castrated ones"). The Skoptsy movement began in the late 18th century and lasted well into the 1930s. This weird sect adopted a literalist reading of Christ's words: "...for there are eunuchs who have been so from birth, and there are eunuchs who have been made eunuchs by men and there are eunuchs who have made themselves eunuchs for the sake of the kingdom of heaven..." (Matthew 19:12). Just as the Gospels say that "if an eye offend you, pluck it out," so the Skoptsy avoided sexual temptation by removing all of the male genitalia and mutilating the female pudenda and lactatory glands. At its zenith in the 1800s, the sect reached 100,000 to 300,000 followers, with about half of the sect so castrated. Laura Engelstein has penned an eye-watering account of their history and practices in her 1999 book `Castration and the Heavenly Kingdom'. Although fundamentally an academic work, this book is quite accessible to the general reader and includes much anecdotal evidence from the Skoptsy themselves. Drawn almost entirely from the ranks of the Russian peasantry, once converted, Skoptsy males set about removing the testes and, usually six months later the membrum virile - procedures which were undertaken using the tools and techniques of animal husbandry. It was also customary for these new converts to perform this excrutiating procedure on their sons just prior to the onset of puberty - aargh! I must admit, though, that I did find some humour in Engelstein's book. The Skoptsy were outlawed in Tsarist Russia and when caught and brought to trial, often came up with some quite implausible explanations for their emasculation. One Skopets, for example, claimed that he had castrated himself to facilitate greater comfort in horse-riding! I could not help but to feel sorry though for the tragic plight of those unfortunate Skoptsy youths who would later, in all probability, reject their parents' belief systems. Engelstein traces the history of this sect until it died out with the Stalinist purges of the 1930s, but I can't help wondering if any of them went `underground' and survived into the present day. Are there any Skoptsy still out there? If anyone who chances upon this post can shed any light on this question, I'd be interested to hear.

Bone Idle

Auto Decapitation

A rather curious (if a little extreme) religious practice is that of self-beheading. Apparently head offerings were highly valued in ancient southern India. The ultimate offering which a Sakta (one concerned with the worship of the divine feminine) could make was that of his own head. This procedure was performed by lopping the head off with a sword, a sabre, or an ingenious instrument called a gandakattera - a tool which was designed specifically to facilitate auto-decapitation. The Venetian merchant Nicolo di Conti, who visited India around the year 1420 gives this vivid description of how the gandakattera was used:

“By virtue of the great effectiveness of their priests’ power of persuasion, many step resolutely forward to offer themselves, and they are immediately escorted to a platform where, after the performance of certain ceremonies, a large iron collar is placed around their necks; this is rounded on the outside, whereas the inside (which touches the skin) is fashioned like a razor. Hanging down from the front of the collar and over the chest is a chain into which, once they are seated and have lifted their legs, they place their feet. Then, as the priest intones certain words, they bravely extend their feet and, by lifting their head, detach it with a single stroke from the trunk: in this way, by offering up their life in sacrifice to their idols, they are deemed saints.”

Bone Idle

Thursday

Ever have days like this?

Bone Idle

Pathos

The Buddha once spent a night in a potter's shed. In the same shed there was a young recluse who had arrived there earlier. They did not know each other. The Buddha observed the recluse and thought to himself: `Pleasant are the ways of this young man. It would be good if I should ask about him.' So the Buddha asked him: `O recluse, in whose name have you left home? Or who is your master? Or whose doctrine do you like?'
`O friend,' answered the young man, `there is Gotama, who left his family to become a recluse. There is high repute abroad of him that he is a Fully Enlightened One. In the name of that Blessed One I have become a recluse. He is my Master and I like his doctrine.'
The Buddha realized that it was in his name that this unknown young man had left home and become a recluse. But without divulging his identity, the Buddha delivered a most remarkable discourse explaining Truth.
It was only at the end of the discourse that this young recluse, whose name was Pukkusati, realized that the person who spoke to him was the Buddha himself. So he got up, went before the Buddha, bowed down at the feet of the Master, and apologized to him for calling him 'friend' un- knowingly. He then begged the Buddha to ordain him and admit him into the Order of the Sangha. The Buddha asked him whether he had the alms-bowl and the robes ready. (A bhikkhu must have three robes and the alms-bowl for begging food.) When Pukkusati replied in the negative, the Buddha said that the Tathagatas would not ordain a person unless the alms-bowl and the robes were ready. So Pukkusati went out in seach of an alms-bowl and robes, but was unfortunately savaged by a cow and died.

Drawn from Walpola Rahula's account in `What The Buddha Taught'. (1959) ps7-8.

Bone Idle

St Francis Borgia

This modern world is obsessed with youth and physical beauty. People are, more often than not, judged solely on their external appearance and perceived sex appeal, rather than by their inner human qualities. Nowadays fame and celebrity are merely skin deep. We celebrate what is superficial, ephemeral and transient losing sight of what is internal and of lasting worth. I suppose it has never really been any different though. With this in mind, a salutary lesson may be drawn from the experience of a little known Spanish Jesuit, St Francis Borgia. Francis was born in Valencia in 1510. He came from a powerful if somewhat infamous family ( a family that produced the likes of Lucrezia Borgia). Francis mixed in the highest eschelons of Spanish society and was a close friend of Charles V. Charles's wife Isabella, a woman of 36 years who was well known for her physical beauty, died. Francis accompanied the funeral procession from Toledo to Granada, a journey of many miles through the southern half of Spain. The weather was hot and the funeral procession was slow. Eventually they arrived at the tomb and the coffin was opened. The sight and stench of the putrefying corpse of the once fragrant and lovely Isabella had a profound effect on Francis. He threw off his cloak and declared that he could no longer serve that which decays. True to his word, he left the court and became a Jesuit, spending the rest of his days performing penance for his family's and his own wrongdoings.

Bone Idle

The Decapitation of Baba Deep Singh

This rather striking image depicts the last moments of Baba Deep Singh (1682-1757) who is revered as one of the greatest martyrs in Sikh history. The story of his death is curious, to say the least. In those days the Sikhs were at war with the Mughal rulers of Northern India, vying for control of The Sikh's most sacred place, the Harimandir Sahib (Temple) in Amritsar. Baba Deep Singh was engaged in mortal combat near to the Temple with the Mughal General Attal Khan. Attal Khan inflicted a blow on Baba Deep Singh whilst Baba Deep Singh inflicted a blow on him. Both of their heads got separated from their bodies. At this point, a fellow warrior reminded Baba Deep Singh that he had once promised to put his head at the feet of the Guru in the Temple. On hearing this, Baba Deep Singh picked up his head with his left hand and continued to fight with his double-edged sword in his right hand. Baba Deep Singh managed to reach the Temple, where he gave up his head and breathed his last.
This might seem like a very tall tale (aren't all the best ones?) and one which you might easily dismiss as the product of an excess of religious fervour, but it occurs to me that there may be a seed of truth in it. I have wondered how long a person remains conscious following decapitation. What would it feel like? What sort of thoughts would he be thinking? I remember reading somewhere that experiments were conducted on the heads of guillotined prisoners in France. Apparently, someone came up with the idea of sticking needles into their tongues on the premise that an anguished expression would indicate the presence of consciousness. I'm sure I remember reading that some beheaded prisoners showed some sort of response for up to two minutes after their heads were severed. Following a little further research into the question of post-decapitation consciousness and how long it lasts for, there doesn't seem to be a definitive answer out there. I have come across answers ranging from ten to fifteen seconds, forty seconds and, of course, two minutes. What does seem to be the case however, is that one is aware of being beheaded and that this awareness does continue for some (albeit short) time after the head has been detatched from the body.

Bone Idle

View From The Grave

Looking at the world from this angle should bring one's priorities into much sharper focus.

Now I come to think of it, this picture brings to mind an incident that happened in my university days (the early 80's). I was always strapped for cash back then and would, from time to time, take on casual jobs when funds were running particularly low. On one such occasion I assisted a sexton in the excavation of a grave. It was backbreaking work but I was young and fit and up for an adventure of sorts. The grave had already been occupied for some years by a deceased gentleman so our task was to open it up again in time for his wife's funeral. Anyway, after hours of digging, my shoulders were at ground level so I would say that the hole was about five and a half feet deep. I was beginning to sense my proximity to the grave's mouldering occupant - the ground beneath my shovel was sounding hollow and I could feel a certain give under my feet. All of a sudden, I could hear and feel the coffin lid beneath me starting to fall apart and collapse. I panicked. Much to the amusement of my fellow gravedigger, with one mighty vertical leap I was straight out of that grave. I did not even have the benefit of a run up (such as you see athletes who compete in the high jump doing). One thing I am certain of though is that there is absolutely no way I could ever repeat that medal worthy leap!

Bone Idle

Book Review - The Man Who Went Into The West

Ever since I discovered him in my youth, the late R.S. Thomas has been one of my favourite poets. Therefore, I eagerly awaited the publication of this biography which appeared in the latter part of 2006. I was not to be disappointed. I suppose the book could be quite a frustrating read if you come to it expecting that a biographical work should follow a neat linear chronology. The author Byron Rogers seems less concerned with presenting a clear historical timeline than with creating a sort of impressionistic portrait of the man who was once termed `The Ogre of Wales.' Rogers largely achieves this by piecing together a patchwork of anecdotes from people who knew him, ranging from his only son with whom he seems to have had a very difficult relationship (as if he were capable of any other) to the sometimes quite tangential offerings of village shopkeepers and the parishioners of this most gloomy and misanthropic of priests as he sought out increasingly bleak and isolated places to live. This book sheds much light on the inner contradictions and thought processes of R.S. (actually Ron - apparently he added the `S' for reasons of euphony) Thomas and his strained relationships with the rest of humanity. It succeeded in getting me to reread many of his poems in a new light. Rogers does have a very dry sense of humour and although he clearly feels a great deal of admiration ( and I daresay affection) for his subject and his art, he also seems to delight in poking fun at this most grumpy of grumpy old men and, I have to say, when Rogers does this he is at his best. In many places this book had me laughing at loud at Thomas's eccentricities and bizarre antics. I would also like to add that "The Man Who Went Into The West" is physically very well constructed - it looks and feels like a book ought to. The subject matter of this book might strike some as rather tedious but, believe me, I found it hard to put down and finished reading it all too quickly.

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Another Tale of Resurrection from Old Bengal.

Radharamana Carana Das Deva 1853-1905

I read this rather unusual tale in Chapter 9 of "The Saints of Bengal" (1995) by Dr O.B.L. Kapoor. This is a fascinating work of hagiography which deals with prominent figures in the Gaudiya Vaisnava Tradition (of which the Hare Krsna movement is a recent offshoot). This particular story concerns the activities of another sadhu who was immense, both in frame and spirituality - Sri Radharaman Charan Das Dev. It is the story of a lady, whom he brought back to life at the cremation ground of Nimtala Ghat on the banks of the Ganges in old Calcutta and, as Kapoor states, this was witnessed by a crowd of thousands of people. Sri Radharaman Charan was bathing in the river along with a number of disciples when he saw the lady's corpse being brought to the cremation ground. He said to himself, "Ah! The lady is going without hearing the Name of the Lord. Poor thing! She will have to suffer the unending cycle of birth and death." He then told his disciples to ask the funeral attendands not to burn the corpse. Sri Radharaman Charan requested that they bring it down from the pyre and when this was done he sat near its feet holding its big toes in both of his hands. He then began to chant "Bhaja Nitai Gaura Radhe Shyam, Japa Hare Krishna Hare Ram," a crowd gathered and joined him in this chanting for half an hour. Then suddenly Sri Radharaman Charan cried "Jai Nitai!" and pulled the lady's toes with a jerk. She opened her eyes and looked around in bewilderment. The lady gestured to her relatives and was given some milk to drink. The news spread around Calcutta like wildfire and crowds of people began to pour in from all directions. After about an hour and a half, Sri Radharaman Charan let go of the lady's toes. She then ceased to breathe, closed her eyes and died.

Bone Idle

The Resurrection of the Rajkumar of Bhawal

Totapuri Baba was a Hindu Sadhu who passed away in 1961. Some accounts state that he was born in the early eighteenth century, others say that he was actually well over 350 years old when he died. Whatever the truth may be, he was certainly a remarkable figure. Physically he must have been very imposing, as the picture above hints. He was by all accounts over seven foot tall (and almost as wide!). As a Digambara Sadhu he was entirely possessionless and went around completely naked. Spiritually, he was something of a giant too. The popular story in Puri, Orissa (where he spent much of his time in seclusion in dense woodland) was that he was the same Totapuri Baba who initiated the famous mystic Paramahansa Ramakrishna into the path of Advaita Vedanta - and this took place in 1863! There are many stories told of Totapuri Baba but perhaps the strangest one is all the more remarkable since there should be legal documents which could attest to its veracity. The story is of the dead Rajkumar of Bhawal - a king in the state of Bengal who was mysteriously killed in a legal fight over his property. Thirty years later Totapuri Baba "resurrected" him and the dead Rajkumar of Bhawal returned to his native place and won a court case restoring his property to him!

The resurrected Rajkumar of Bhawal

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The Disposal of the Dead

The history of the cremation movement along with the social and religious implications of the rapid and widescale rejection of inhumation in favour of this method is, I think, a fascinating and yet rather neglected aspect of our culture. It is one to which, I suspect, I will return from time to time as this blog progresses. In modern Britain, cremation is by far the most popular method of disposal of the dead. With over 70% of us opting for the fiery retort, it is worth remembering that `modern' cremation has only been with us for a little over a hundred years and that the early advocates of this method met with a great deal of opposition and even open hostility from practically all sectors of British society. For your edification, I will quote some verses penned by an anti-cremationist in a Surrey newspaper of 1879 in reference to the siting of Britain's first crematorium at Woking:

Have you heard of the new crematorium at Woking,
Where funeral fires, `tis proposed, will be smoking;
Where corpses, consigned from all parts of the nation,
Will be burnt by the new fashioned mode of cremation?

The people of Woking are all up in arms,
Protesting most loudly, and filled with alarms:
And now wonder. Oh! Horror, the thought is vexation,
Our deceased ones consumed by the fires of cremation!

The babe that we dandled so loving from birth,
And cherished so fond as the dearest on earth:
The sickening thought will not bear contemplation,
To burn his dear flesh in the fires of cremation.

Let funeral pyres blaze on Indian soil;
From its practice in England our feelings recoil;
And we should do best as a civilized nation,
To help our new subjects abolish cremation.

In our atmosphere rural we've no wish to spread
The stench that arises from burning our dead.
Earth closets, we're told, are the best sanitation;
No, thank you, we beg to decline your cremation.
Anon

Quoted in full in Brian Parsons: `Committed to the Cleansing Flame - The development of cremation in nineteenth century England' 2005 (pp74-75)

Bone Idle

On a lighter note...

General John Nicholson

I am sometimes asked how many religions there are in the world. Frankly, that is an impossible question to answer. I am sure it would be quite feasible for anyone to come up with his own idiosyncratic set of beliefs and to devise his own set of ethics to live by and term it a `religion'. However, when considering known and documented religious groups which have very few adherents, one of the most obscure and bizarre has to be the Nikalsaini (Followers of General John Nicholson, the Deputy Commissioner of the District of Rawalpindi in the mid nineteenth century). This sect consisted of just three erstwhile Sikhs and seems to have arisen following the victory of the British over the Sikh army in the battle of Gujarat in 1849. At the time, a great panic was said to have prevailed among the Sikhs: very many cut off their long hair and were in great fear of being forcibly converted to Christianity. It was against this backdrop that three men were seen going about Rawalpindi, dressed up in the cast-off clothes and hats of Europeans, and with shaven heads and faces. The eldest gave himself out to be the mahant or chief of a sect, and the others to be his chelas or disciples. The mahant played upon a two-stringed instrument and he and his disciples sang hymns in praise of the English in general, and of John Nicholson (whom they seem to have conceived of as some sort of divine figure) in particular. Apparently, they came before Nicholson under the idea that the Deputy Commissioner would feel flattered at being associated with a new sect, whose Guru he was acknowledged to be. However, Nicholson was less than impressed and had them flogged and sent away. Quite understandably, their enthusiasm seems to have waned after this and they were neither seen nor heard of thereafter.

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In Memoriam

Fr James T. Leeson 1877-1917

I often think about Fr Leeson. I also wonder how many people have even heard of him. After all, why would they? As a celibate priest he left no offspring to cherish his memory and he has been dead for ninety years now. Fr Leeson was a distant relation of mine - my great-grandmother's cousin or so I gather. From what I know of him, when the First World War broke out in 1914 he lived a comfortable enough life as a parish priest in Liverpool. He seems to have been a respected figure in the Liverpudlian Catholic community, in addition to his parish duties he taught Theology to future priests in the local seminary. Already in his late thirties, there was no reason for him to have gone to war. He could have stayed put, with nothing more traumatic to do than hearing the nuns' confessions and offering what consolation he could to the war bereaved. Instead he chose to join the army. He was assigned the rank of Captain and was soon dispatched to the battlefields of Northern France to serve as a chaplain to the forces. Fr Leeson was not a combatant and from what I know neither did he carry arms. His mission was to minister to the spiritual needs of the men in these extreme circumstances. In the hell on earth that was the battle of Paschendale, Fr Leeson was administering the last rites to a dying soldier in the trenches when he himself was mortally wounded. A few years ago, I came across a military document which somewhat poignantly listed Fr Leeson's personal effects following his death, these consisted of his rosary, a breviary, a cigar cutter and a few cigars. He was subsequently buried in a military cemetery near to where he fell. I recently watched the documentary on 9/11 filmed by the Naudet brothers and it occured to me that there is an echo of Fr Leeson's sacrifice in the story of Fr Mykal Judge. Father Mykal Judge was a long-time chaplain in New York City's Fire Department. He had been with the firefighters in many dangerous and life threatening situations, but nothing like the one on September 11 2001. As with Fr Leeson, he too was administering the last rites, this time to a fallen fire fighter, when instantaneously his own life was snuffed out by crumbling and falling debris. The question I ask myself, given that I am about the same age as Fr Leeson was at the time, is whether I would have made the same choices if I were in his shoes. I very much doubt it, I would in all probability have taken the easy option. In my view, Fr Leeson possessed that rare spiritual and mental strength which makes him a true hero.

"Greater love hath no man than this, that a man lay down his life for his friends." John 15:13

(The picture, which is the only one of Fr Leeson in my possession, is an enhancement I made of a photocopied image from a newspaper obituary of 1917)

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Die Grosse Stille

My favourite film of the moment has got to be `Die Grosse Stille'. The English edition 'Into Great Silence' has not yet been released on DVD so I ordered the original German one and have watched it all the way through twice (it is nearly three hours long). The paucity of my German doesn't make a great deal of difference since much of the film is silent anyway. It is a really beautiful film, a sort of fly on the wall documentary about the lives of the 20 or so monks who live in the Carthusian order's motherhouse of La Grande Chartreuse in the French Alps. The director, Philip Groening was only given permission to make the film after waiting for 16 years to do so. He lived with the monks for several months on condition that he did all the filming himself. The Carthusians lead the most intensely contemplative life of any religious order, in fact they are really an order of hermits who come together three times a day (including the long Carthusian night office, which interrupts the monks' two three to three and a half hour sessions of sleep) to pray. Their only conversation takes place on the weekly spaciamentum (walk outside the monastery walls), otherwise their life consists of solitary prayer and work in their cell. Why anyone would choose to follow this seemingly harsh and unremitting lifestyle was answered by Philip Groening when he said: "I think they simply do it because they choose to... become close to God. It's a very simple concept, the concept is God himself, is pure happiness, the closer you move to that, the happier you are." There is very little action in this film. It is marked by the changing of the seasons and the timeless routine of the monastic day rather than any plot. Nevertheless, it provides an aesthetically pleasing and fascinating insight into an ascetic lifestyle which has remained practically unchanged since the eleventh century.

As an afterthought, there was no reference in the film to the liqueur which these monks manufacture - Green Chartreuse. My favourite tipple happens to be a shot of this on ice with tonic water. Very nice indeed.

Bone Idle

Things that have annoyed me recently:

Cold callers
Abbreviation
The female voice
The weeks leading up to Christmas
Christmas
People who use the "f" word loudly in public places
The use of highlighters in books
The weather
Cats

Watch this space

Bone Idle

Remains to be seen

Well, here it is at last - the birth of The Bone Idol. I have set up this blog in order to provide an outlet for my observations, ideas, preoccupations and possibly the occasional diatribe.`Who cares?' you might say. I suppose that if I have articulated something and it then `exists' out here in cyberspace, it is somehow reified and, therefore, may have the potential to interest others. However, whether anyone actually takes the time to read my ideas or not remains to be seen and this, in a sense, is immaterial anyway. This blog exists primarily so that I can add my voice to all the others that happen to be crying in the wilderness.

Idol (from the Greek eidolon) - An image or representation; a form; a phantom; an apparition.

(Webster's 1913 dictionary)

Bone Idle.